Chapter 83
LUCY
On Saturday, I walked into April’s Coffee Shop.
“Good morning. What can I get started for you?”
In that moment, everything changed. I’d planned on coming to April’s Coffee Shop, trying to make small talk with the barista, and, hopefully, eventually getting around to asking if they knew why someone might have called Hotel Pico.
I no longer wanted to talk to anyone. In fact, I wanted to get the hell out of there.
I was looking into the eyes of April Devers, the woman whose husband had been murdered and who had been all over the news several weeks back. There was zero doubt it was her. The only difference between the pictures that circulated on TV was that she was prettier in person. Far prettier.
This couldn’t be a coincidence. A woman whose husband had been murdered worked at a business that had called a hotel where my husband—who was also murdered—had been seen, and the front desk clerk of said hotel had recently died suspiciously as well.
This was too much, even for a hardened skeptic like me. Shoot, I still believed that Oswald was a lone shooter. It took a lot for me to believe in a conspiracy. But ignoring this would be crazy. There was too much smoke here.
“I’ll have a small coffee,” I said, fumbling over my first few words.
“Just regular old drip coffee?”
“Please.”
She didn’t seem to notice me fumbling over my words as she turned around and started pouring a coffee.
“So what brings you to my little coffee shop?” she asked, with her back still turned to me. And just like that, I knew April knew who I was. Call it a feeling, call it a hunch if you want, but by the way she phrased the question, I just knew.
Sure, it could have been because I’d been on TV lately myself, but it felt more personal than that.
“Oh, you own it?”
She turned around and extended her hand. “I sure do. April Devers.”
I shook it. “Nice to meet you. Lucy Sykes.”
“So you didn’t answer my question.”
What question was she talking about? My hands were getting clammy. I wanted to get out of there, but couldn’t risk bringing more attention to myself.
“Which question? Sorry, it’s been a long morning.”
“What brought you to my coffee shop?”
Her pleasant demeanor had changed. The smile remained, but the tone of her question was more intense.
“I just happened to be in the area.”
April Devers’s smile widened. I could tell she wanted to follow up on my bullshit answer, but she let it be.
“Well, we’re happy to have your business. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
She turned around, grabbed the coffee, swiveled back around, and handed it to me. It seemed very choreographed.
“There you go, Lucy,” she said, accentuating my first name.
I should have just said thanks, but I couldn’t resist.
“Thanks so much, April,” I replied, accentuating her name even more than she’d done to mine.
“Would you like anything more than that? Maybe a bear claw?”
I had no idea what she was talking about. Why would I want a bear claw?
And then it hit me! Eddie loved bear claws.
Could that be what April was alluding to? This was crazy.
My initial desire to get the hell out of there had given way to fascination. Fascination of the woman in front of me. Fascination with the situation I’d found myself in. Fascination with the back and forth of this conversation.
“I’ll pass on the bear claw. Maybe next time.”
“I’ll make sure to save one for you.”
This conversation had officially become bizarre.
“Well, it was nice to have met you,” I said.
“Same. See you down the road.”
I let her have the last word, smiled, and walked out.