Page 47 of Murder on Charity Lane

“Now you have to turn around! We’re not going to the Y, Ocean. We’re meeting CJ for coffee at Common Grounds so we can figure out who murdered Frank DeYoung.”

Ocean glared at Mrs. B. “We’re meeting CJ? And you didn’t mention this because?”

“You would’ve complained.”

“I’m still going to complain.”

“Yes, but now I only have to listen to it once. CJ isn’t coming to the Y right now. She’s so upset, poor thing.”

“I’m aware.”

“Well, awareness isn’t enough! She needs a friendly face, so I said we should meet for coffee. Since you were already driving me, I thought I’d bring along my friend with a gift for investigation.”

“So Lily-Ann’s going to meet us?”

“Ha! No, I meant you.”

Ocean tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “Is CJ expecting me?”

“Probably?”

“Let me rephrase that, you horrible old woman. Did you tell her I’m coming?”

“Not in so many words, no. But she knows me.”

Ocean didn’t bother responding, she just took a left at the drugstore, which also led to the coffee shop.

“Oh, this way works, too,” Mrs. B said. “We have to support her, Ocean. She’s innocent, but we still need a strategy for proving that.”

Ocean let out a breath. “So what’s the strategy?”

“How on earth would I know? We’ll start with a simple interrogation.”

At a break in the traffic, Ocean turned onto De La Vina Street. She drove in silence, pretty certain that “interrogation” wasn’t part of the new dating lingo. And if she’d known she was seeing CJ, she would’ve at least put on some lip gloss. Maybe another tank top. The only good thing about this surprise coffee date was that Mrs. B was scheming again. The old woman still had a lot of life left in her.

Mrs. B’s bracelets jangled as she waved toward the coffee shop. “This used to be a Taco Bell. I once backed my car over that ledge. So you shouldn’t worry so much about my driving.”

“Because you were always terrible at it?”

“Exactly. I haven’t gotten any worse.”

“I’m not sure that’s as comforting as you think.” Ocean parked near the entrance, then hustled around the car in case Mrs. B needed help. “Does CJ know you want to ask about Frank’s death?”

Mrs. B waved her away. “The police told her not to leave town, Ocean, she’s frightened.”

“I can’t believe she agreed to meet you before me.”

“There’s a good reason for that,” Mrs. B told her.

“Which is?”

“You didn’t bribe her,” Mrs. B said, then strode across the lot and pushed inside.

The door jingled overhead as Ocean followed her in, trying not to think about that “bribe.” Common Grounds was a fairly generic local café, with a line of flavored coffees in heated urns and nothing more sophisticated on the menu than a chai latte.

“Oh, look!” Mrs. B waved enthusiastically. “She’s already here. CJ!”

CJ rose from a table against the tinted window, wearing a gray top and a black skirt. Black beads hung around her neck instead of the usual crystal she wore. For mourning. Her eyes were swollen from crying, though her gorgeous auburn hair still struck Ocean as lush and abandoned.