Lye in Wait by Cricket McRae Page B

I heard the other one
say, "Man, you're so dumb. We're gonna get our asses whipped."
    Blondie won the break, but all the balls stayed on the table.
Meghan walked around the table once before calling the three ball
in the corner pocket. It bumped in, smooth as butter, as did three
other solids before she miscalculated the angle on the five. She
joined me where I leaned against the wall working away on my
IPA.
    "I'm a little off tonight," she said.
    "We haven't played for a while," I told her.
    "True," she said.
    Looking grim, the curlyhaired one approached the table, chalking his cue until blue dust began drifting to the floor. He indicated
the ten in the side pocket and grinned at the satisfactory thock as it
dropped in. That left him with several impossibilities and a tricky
bank shot, which he managed with aplomb. I smiled and gave him
a thumbs-up when he looked over, and Meghan told me to stop
being condescending. But he missed the next, much easier, shot by
a hair. A little condescension can go a long way.
    I mopped up the rest of the game, pocketing the eight ball in
the corner with an easy bank off the side. Blondie walked away in
disgust, but his friend grinned and offered to buy Meghan and me
a round. We'd had enough, though, so we thanked him and left. It
had begun to rain again, little spits that were just enough for us to
raise the hoods on our jackets.
    We hurried down to the Beans R Us Coffee Shop and ducked
inside. The bell over the door jingled, and a woman with short spiky black hair and an eyebrow ring came out of the back, untying her apron. I recognized her from the few times I'd been in for a
double tall nonfat latte.
     
    "I was just getting ready to close up. I've got some decaf on the
burner if you want it for free."
    I looked at Meghan. She shrugged. "Sure," I said. The woman
reached for two paper cups with one hand and the pot of coffee
with the other."
    "Sorry I can't get you a latte or anything," the woman said. "I
already put everything away."
    "No problem. We're not here for coffee, actually," I said.
    She stopped pouring. "So what are you here for?"
    "Do you know Walter Hanover?"
    She nodded. "Sure. He comes in afternoons a lot. Hangs out
with Debby and Jacob. Plays backgammon. Sometimes cribbage."
She pointed to a cluster of tables in the corner with games sitting
on a shelf nearby.
    "Debby and Jacob?" I asked.
    She nodded again. "Why? What's this all about?"
    Meghan said, "We're trying to find people who knew Walter to
let them know he died yesterday. The owner of the Gold Leaf said
he'd seen him in here a lot."
    The woman's hand flew to her mouth. "Ohmygod"
    "Debby and Jacob a couple, then?" I asked.
    Meghan gave me a look that bordered on a glare. Apparently, I
wasn't being sympathetic enough.
    "Um, oh, I don't know. They just all come in here together," the
barista said.
    "What time? We'd like to pass on the information to his friends."
     
    "Oh, don't worry. I'll tell them." She said it with such relish I
could imagine her rubbing her hands together in anticipation. In
the blink of an eye, she'd recovered from the shock and was getting
ready for the gossip circuit.
    "Come on," Meghan said and opened the door.
    "Wait a minute! What happened to him?" the woman called
from behind us. "Hey, don't you want your decaf?"
    We walked the five blocks home at a fast clip, both happy to
reach our front door. But I wasn't sure whether we should be
happy or not when we heard the message Detective Ambrose had
left on the answering machine, asking me to call him at the station
the next day.

     
NINE

    ON SATURDAY MORNING, I got Ambrose's voicemail. I dutifully left
my name, number, and the time I called, hung up and dialed Caladia Acres. They transferred me to Tootie Hanover's room, and
she answered on the second ring.
    I asked how she was doing.
    "As well as can be expected, I suppose." Her voice was dull, the
delivery flat.
    "I have some information from