“Hey there,” they said as Amie and Ziya reached the front of the line. “Haven’t seen you in a bit; how’s it going?”
“I’m great, good to see you,” Ziya replied cheerfully. “Can I get a black coffee and cranberry muffin? And a blueberry bagel and mint tea.” She shot Amie a sideways look to confirm.
“What did I say?” Amie said sternly as Jess rang up the order.
Ziya’s eyes went wide with worry. “What?”
“You said you’d forget everything you know about me.”
A choked laugh escaped Ziya’s lips, relief washing over her face. “I said I’d try,” she corrected. “It’s a slow process. Plus, as I’ve gone on the record saying before: Blueberry bagels are weird. Have a more normal breakfast order and I’ll have an easier time forgetting that.”
Amie made a face as she dipped into her purse. Ziya stopped her.
“I’ve got it,” she said, flashing her own card. “You covered dinner.”
“Iruineddinner,” Amie reminded her. “And I have a free beverage reward.”
“Save it. That mac and cheese was better than anything I could’ve ordered at the restaurant. You rescued dinner.” She tapped her card on the reader.
Amie glanced behind them. No one else was in line, so she turned back to the counter and asked, “Hey, Jess?”
“What’s up?”
“Have you heard anything more about Savannah?”
The barista’s eyes lit up. They glanced past Amie and Ziya, then lowered their voice and said, “Savannah went to the bookstore two nights ago and never returned home. Her husband found her dead in the store early the next morning. Bludgeoned in the head.”
Amie’s stomach lurched. “So she was killed Monday night?”
“Seems like it.”
She hadn’t been sure, but now it was confirmed: Savannah had died during the time loop. Every night, when Amie was eating dinner in her apartment, or at the restaurant with Ziya, or … well, that was about all she did. But every night, Savannah was murdered, and Amie had never known.
Jess gave Amie a concerned look. “You all right?”
Amie nodded queasily, taking in a deep breath through her nose.
Ziya had also observed Amie’s distress. “Do the police have any suspects?” she asked, kindly taking over the conversational reins.
“That I don’t know,” Jess said. They looked around again, gesturing for Amie and Ziya to lean in. Once they did so, the barista whispered, “I wouldn’t be surprised if they suspected Madeline.”
There was a brief pause. The name rang a faint bell for Amie. She waited to see if Ziya had any reaction, assuming she was doing the same.
When neither of them said anything, Jess added, “Our owner?”
“Ohhh,” said Amie and Ziya in unison. Madeline was the owner of Eons Café, and would occasionally greet and check in on customers whenever she was in. Amie hadn’t seen the woman in a while, as she hadn’t been in the caféduring any of Amie’s trips to Eons on Monday.
“Why would she be a suspect?” Ziya asked.
Jess somehow managed to lower the volume of their voice even more than before. Amie pressed closer to catch their words.
“Madeline’s been wanting to buy the bookstore from Savannah for ages,” the barista said. “She wants to knock down the wall and make it one big business. But Savannah wasn’t gonna sell, no matter how much the store was suffering or how much Madeline offered her.”
“So you think Madeline might’ve …?” Ziya dragged a finger across her throat, clearly reveling in the drama.
Jess shrugged, stepping back. “All I’m saying is that I’d be surprised if she isn’t a suspect. But you didn’t hear it from me.”
“Of course,” Amie said. “Is Madeline here now?”
