I caught her eye and waved. She lifted a hand.
The queue of people in front of her moved quickly, thanks to my efficient staff, and Claire quickly placed her order, then made her way down to the end of the counter.
“Hi.” I shot a quick grin over my shoulder as I squirted two pumps of toasted marshmallow flavoring into a cup.
“Hey. So, how did your sleuthing with Luke go last night? Find anything interesting?”
Her question was one-hundred-percent innocent, but that didn’t stop the blush from coloring my cheeks as I remembered what happened when Luke and I parted ways last night.
I turned my face away before she could see. “It was fine.” I picked up the two shots of espresso I’d just brewed and dumped them in the cup with the flavoring before reaching into the fridge beneath the counter for the milk. “We didn’t really discover anything. Just likely crossed some names off the list. But we only got through a handful before the library closed. We’re going back tonight.” I poured about eight ounces of milk into a small, stainless-steel pitcher, then set it on the espresso machine and stuck the steamer wand into the milk.
“That’s a bummer.” Claire’s mouth pulled down.
“Yeah.” Snagging a small coffee cup off the stack, I poured house brew into it for the next order while I waited on the milk to steam for the latte. This time, I managed not to burn myself.
After shutting off the steamer, I snapped a lid on the coffee, then called the name on the order. “Karen.”
An older woman materialized from behind Claire. This woman, I recognized. I didn’t really know her, but I’d seen her around town enough to know she was a local.
She took the coffee and was gone before I could wish her a good day.
“So, did Ozzie tell you anything?” I asked, forgetting about the woman.
Claire tipped her head side-to-side. “Sort of. He didn’t want to, but I badgered him to give me something. He confirmed it’s a woman. He also said the clothing on the body looked like it was from the eighties, and that they think she was stabbed. I guess there were slits in her clothes that looked like knife wounds.”
I grimaced. Hopefully, the woman hadn’t suffered much from those wounds. I could only pray it had been quick.
My mind went to the list of names we’d created as I wondered who it could be. “What about her clothing makes them think it was a woman from the eighties?”
“She had on a shirt with shoulder pads and stirrup pants.”
Interesting. “That could be the early-nineties too,” I said.
“That’s what I told him. He gave me a look like I’d lost my mind, so I pulled up an image of an actress from 1991 and showed it to him. She had on both.” A cheshire grin split her face. “Then I told him it was a good thing he confided in me.”
I laughed, glancing back as I made a cappuccino. “I bet he loved that.”
Claire chuckled. “I got an eye roll, then he changed the subject. I couldn’t get any more out of him about the woman after that.”
“Well, that’s something. It gives Luke and me a place to focus our search tonight.”
A sly look crossed my best friend’s face. “Is that the only reason you’re going back tonight?” Claire raised a hand and pointed a finger at me, swirling it. “I saw that blush.”
Like it had a mind of its own, the fire returned to my face. “We’re researching.” I ducked my head, but I doubted I was quick enough if her renewed laugh was anything to go by.
Who are you fooling? You know it’s more than that.
A soft huff passed my lips as my mind reminded me of the flaming pile of hormonal woman Luke reduced me to last night with that cockeyed smile.
“No one would fault you if you were doing more than just researching. He’s quite yummy. And he seems nice.”
“He is.” I glanced up as I reached for a lid. “And fine, you caught me. We’re having dinner before we research.” Resolving not to be a chicken, I met Claire’s suddenly wide-eyed stare.
A slow smile spread over my friend’s face. “I knew it.” She let out a little squeal and clapped her hands. “When you’re ready for a double date, you’ll have to let me know.”
Despite the turmoil in my brain over my feelings about the whole Luke situation, one corner of my mouth lifted at her enthusiasm. “We haven’t even had our first date yet, so it might be a while.” I set the cappuccino on the counter and called the name on the receipt, then picked up the next order. It was Claire’s.
Automatically, I reached for a paper cup, then paused as I read the order. With an eyebrow quirked, I looked at her. “Iced coffee?” She almost always ordered a hot latte.
