Deadlocked (The Harry Russo Diaries Book 3) by Lisa Emme Page B

“Wow Harry, it looks pretty snazzy.”
    I eyed it skeptically. I had no clue how to use it. Luckily,
Isaac claimed to be an expert on all things coffee. We’d get him to show us
the ropes later after it was all hooked up.
    “So try the Deco, I think you’re going to like it, one
of the best commercial brewers around. If it doesn’t work for you, we can swap
it out.” Artie pulled a couple more sheets from his briefcase. “Here are
the coffees we stock. I told Isaac I’d leave a list. I’ve also left you a
couple of different samples of our own house sourced coffee. It’s very good,
totally Columbian.” He gestured to the counter beside the new coffee maker.
There were two large foil packages of coffee beans. The label read “Howling
Moon Coffee Company” and it had a picture of a howling wolf. Cute, but subtle
they weren’t. I looked back at Artie who chuckled. He made a little ‘what can
you do’ gesture with his hands.
    “Thanks, Artie. For everything,” I said, shaking his hand
again.
    “Not a problem, Harry. Always a pleasure helping out the
pack.” He snapped his briefcase closed and turned to leave. “Oh, and we
should have your crockery order out to you by mid-week.”
    “That’s great! Thanks again.” I walked Artie through the
back of the shop and out the delivery entrance to the alley behind the
building. Artie’s minivan was parked beside my pickup truck. I watched him
drive away and was about to head back inside when a movement down the lane drew
my attention. I stared down the alley trying to see into the waning daylight.
The sun was almost set and the lane was cast in shadows.
    “Harry?” Isaac stood in the doorway, his gaze following
mine.
    “Hey, Isaac.”
    “Everything okay, Harry?” Isaac asked, stepping out to stand
beside me.
    “Yeah sure, I just thought I saw someone in the lane.” I
shook my head and then shrugged. “I guess not.” I turned towards the building
and Isaac. “So, did you check out the new coffee maker?”
    Isaac’s smile almost burst right off his face. I’d take
that as a yes.
    A short while later, Tess disappeared upstairs to our
apartment while I remained behind and sat watching Isaac play with his new
coffee maker. Together with Morris, the two of them had managed to get it all
hooked up. A quick trip upstairs for milk and some mugs and we were a few
minutes shy of trying the shop’s first cappuccinos.
    My phone chirped. I stepped away from the impatient group
of men - the boys had finished in the kitchen and come out to join Morris and
Isaac - as they stood waiting for the water to reach optimum coffee brewing
temperature.
    
    I smiled at my phone. It was Nash.
     I sent back.
    hospital>
    Nash’s reply made me burst out laughing. Isaac threw me a
questioning glance but I waved him off, pointing at my phone.
     I snickered as I typed,
thinking of how Tess and I sat on the edge of his hospital bed eating subs.
        …Pick you up in 20?>
    
    

Chapter Eight

    Minetti’s was a Riverton institution. A mom-and-pop joint
that opened shortly after the turn of the last century, it had been run by a
member of the extended Minetti family ever since. It didn’t matter who was
running the place, there always seemed to be a Mama Minetti. My generation’s
incarnation was Clara. A stereotypical Italian nonna , standing five
foot nothing with snow white hair and a time-worn face, she was inevitably in a
flower print dress and white bib-front apron. Nonna Clara, as she liked to be
called, had a mind like a steel trap. If you were in her good books, you got a
pinch on the cheek. Find yourself in her bad books and she had no problem
giving you a slap upside the head, all while praying in Italian to the saints
above for your salvation. She added real character to the place, let