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"Yes. You saw him on most mornings, on the days you were working, when he came in for his coffee."
I started to speak, but Daniel went on talking. "Now, think about how many people come into Roasted Love whom you only know by sight, or maybe through short conversations. Do you think you really know them?"
A red flush of anger and embarrassment spread from my neck to my forehead. I could feel it. "Okay. You're right about the casual customers. But that's not what John was. He actually talked about his life to me and to the other people. He told me about the tough times he and his brother had as kids. And about some crazy stuff he did in college. Things like that. The other customers don't talk to me like that."
Daniel fell silent. Arguments between us were rare, but it looked like tonight would be one of those exceptions. He had his opinion about what had happened to John and I had mine, and we were equally stubborn. Neither of us said anything for a moment.
Then he sighed, and reached for my hand. "Laila, the world of drug addicts is not one to be played around with. Let the police do their job, okay? You might think that you knew John well, but let me ask you – do you even know his last name?"
"A drug dealer told me his last name was Collins." Too late, I realized I'd just told Daniel something I hadn’t planned on saying.
"What?" I'd never seen him look so startled. "What are you talking about?" Before I could answer, he sat up very straight. "Don’t tell me you went down to the rough side of town trying to play amateur detective!"
When I said nothing, he set his jaw and then got to his feet. "Keep out of it, Laila, or you'll end up just like your friend John. I mean it. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."
He walked to the patio door and called the dogs inside. Daniel picked up Benji and then the two of them were gone. The last vision I had of Daniel was one of someone who was on the edge of exploding. I'd never seen him so angry.
After the door slammed shut, an awful silence hung in the air.
Thor walked over to me. He appeared baffled by the sudden disappearance of both of his friends.
I put my arms around Thor's neck and leaned against his shoulder for comfort, as a horrible thought raced through my mind. What if I lost Daniel over all of this?
My heart sank at the thought. He was my anchor most of the time. We had a history between us and our relationship was based on trust and respect. Tonight, I had let that crumble. It was my fault and I knew I'd have to give Daniel time to cool off.
Looking for the nearest distraction, I reached for the TV remote control. And wouldn't you know it – the first thing I saw on the screen was one of Calvin Carpenter’s campaign ads.
He'd chosen his favorite subject for the ad, and went on and on about the dangers of homelessness and drug abuse in West River. He sure seemed to have a one-track agenda. He made it sound as if the city of West River was overrun with people who lived on the streets and used drugs.
Before I'd met John, I didn’t know anyone who didn’t have a bed to sleep in at night. Carpenter’s approach sure did the trick of scaring the people of our town about the homeless.
It was true that I'd felt fear when I'd talked to that drug dealer downtown. It didn’t take Councilman Calvin Carpenter to put that feeling inside of me. But it wasn’t as if I had to live down there. I could choose to go back there for more information, or choose not to.
I turned the TV off. A decision had to be made. Either I could keep my relationship with Daniel intact, or risk losing him if I returned to Skid Row to get the truth about John’s life.
As the evening stretched on, I waited for Daniel to call me. I wanted things to be good between us again and I was sure he did, too.
But no call came.
I lay down in my bed and closed my eyes. Once I got more information, I'd be able to convince Daniel that I was right about John’s death. But I knew, even as a tear formed in the corner of my eye, that there would be no more discussion of John's murder with Daniel.
Chapter Eight
It was my day to come in early at Roasted Love, and I got there right when my boss, Jacob, got there. We greeted each other and got right to work prepping for the morning rush.
I was glad to keep busy, and it looked like we would be nice and busy today. It was chilly and damp and a light rain was beginning to fall from the grey skies. Perfect coffee weather.
"You look like you could use a little extra caffeine yourself," said Jacob, and handed me my favorite espresso.
I sure needed something strong today, and this would do the trick. "Thanks. I’m okay. I just stayed up a little late last night.." I smiled at Jacob, and he winked at me. Then I realized what he thought I'd said. "Oh, no, no! I didn't mean – "
"Don't worry about it, Laila," he said, chuckling. "Just get that French roast going, will you?"
Pretty soon, the first three customers of the day walked into the coffee house. As the bell on the door jangled, I glanced back to see Gary Inman, along with two men I didn’t know, taking their seats at a table for four.
I knew Gary worked in construction and presumed the other two did as well. All three of them appeared a lot more awake than I felt.
"Morning, Laila," said Gary.
