Page 12 of To Catch a Latte Thick as Thieves

“Can I get you anything else?” a surly voice asked. Fisher glanced at the woman standing across from him. She was tapping her pencil on her pad and looking as if she’d just bitten a lemon.

“A refill on the coffee, please,” he said.

“Is that all?” she asked, looking put out.

“For now,” he answered, wondering at her hostility.

“Fine,” she snapped and stomped away.

She marched away like a soldier charging the enemy. Her vibe was decidedly unfriendly, the complete opposite of Annie. She wasn’t the sort he would have thought Annie would hire, but then again, he supposed good help was hard to find.

Try as he might, Fisher couldn’t see Annie as part of a money laundering scheme. He’d met hundreds of felons during his time with the Bureau and while some had been the least likely suspects, none had ever seemed as genuine as Annie Talbot. She couldn’t be involved he told himself, hoping he was right.

“Here.” His waitress plunked down his mug with a splash.

“Thanks,” he said, wondering if he should check the coffee for rat poison.

Settling back in his chair, he resumed watching Annie flit around the shop, refilling mugs with a smile and a laugh. She was as light and airy as the breeze, hardly the hardened criminal he was used to observing. She’d wound her thick hair into a braid that hung down her back and was tied with a bright blue scarf. When she passed by, he had to curb the urge to tug the scarf free and watch her hair unravel in a sensuous spin. His fingers tightened around his mug and he forced his eyes away from his very tempting suspect.

Instead Fisher took a moment to study the clientele. Two students with backpacks were seated outside, chomping on muffins while they quizzed each other from their textbooks. A woman in a suit shared aWall Street Journalwith a man in similar attire. Two house painters in coveralls stood by the chalkboard trying to choose their morning coffee. Fisher couldn’t see the rest of the room, but he knew it was a varied mix of people. Situated on a busy corner in the historic district of downtown Phoenix, The Coffee Break was in a great location.

Annie had done a terrific job of making the shop feel like home. A rack by the door offered customers their choice of several local newspapers as well as theNew York TimesandLos Angeles Times.Board games filled a shelf along one wall; two older gentlemen had already started a game of chess. Handcrafted coffee and tea mugs were for sale in one bookcase and beside that was a wall full of coffee beans and teas to be sold by the pound. A photo album sat on the dessert counter and when Fisher thumbed through it, he discovered pictures of wedding cakes that Annie baked by special order.

Lifting his mug, he took a long sip of the hot brew. He could feel a pair of shrewd brown eyes examining him from behind the counter. His waitress. He’d heard one of the other waitresses call her Denise. Observing her from the corner of his eye, he feigned interest in his phone. He was going to have to find out more about her. She could very well have access to the books and he wouldn’t mind pinching her for laundering money.

He heard Annie’s laugh from across the room and he couldn’t help but glance up. She was lovely when her full lips parted in a smile. He forced his attention back to his coffee. Oh, yeah, given a choice between the two women, he would much rather arrest the surly Denise. But as for pinching, Annie was a definite temptation.

“So, who’s tall, dark and sullen?”

“What?” Annie asked, glancing up from her mixing bowl.

“Who’s tall, dark and sullen?” Denise repeated her question.

“Oh, he’s my new tenant,” Annie answered, not bothering to pretend she didn’t know who Denise was talking about.

“He looks dangerous,” she said, leaning on the counter beside Annie.

“He’s harmless,” she assured her.

“I don’t know.” Denise pilfered a raisin from Annie’s supply of ingredients and popped it into her mouth before continuing. “He was watching you all morning. I didn’t like the look in his eye.”

“What look in his eye?” Annie scoffed, feeling her body go still as she waited for the answer.

“He looked at you like you were a chicken and he was a chicken hawk,” Denise said.

Annie laughed. Denise hadn’t teased her in a long time. Even though it made her blush, it was good to see a glimmer of the old Denise.

“You can’t come up with a better analogy than that? I’m a chicken?”

“He was staring at you.”

“He’s probably just curious about his landlord,” Annie said, trying to sound reasonable.

“Yeah. Curious about seeing you in an apron and nothing else, I’ll bet.”

“Denise!”

“It’s true,” she said with a sigh. “Men are pigs.”