Little Red's Café

ONE

I think back to the headlines of the morning paper the day after they found her body. "Local Café Owner Found Dead", it read in bold print. I had just sat down in the breakfast area that sits off to the left of the living room. The oval stretch of windows extend outward separating the front porch from the back. After fetching the newspaper from the driveway I returned to the cushioned window seat. This was the second thing that was off about that morning. Mom usually brought in the paper after her morning jog and she always had a cup of coffee brewed for me. That morning I assumed she was running late, because neither of those things were done.

I had taken a cautious sip of the fresh coffee I had brewed as I picked up the newspaper choking on the hot liquid as I read the headlines. Panicked, I sat the coffee cup down and picked up my phone to call my mother. Some days she's at work before I wake up, especially during Summer.

The phone starts dialing out and I nervously toy with the hem of my tattered night shirt. Feeling the adrenaline rush through me I suddenly feel cold and regret wearing shorts. My eyes turn to the grandfather clock and I watch it tic. "10:30" I breath she should be prepping for the lunch rush. Her face flashes through my mind, the beginning signs of crows feet under her hazel eyes from where her eyes crinkled when she smiled. The dimples under her high cheekbones, and her oval face caressed by her strawberry blond hair that gently brush her freckled shoulders as she moved; her hair was starting to season with silver strands.
"Momm please pick up" I mumbled panicked as tears well up in my eyes. I wanted to scream, my throat burned like I had swallowed a spoonful of red hot embers. There is no way it is my mom. There are at least three other Cafés in Crows Bay. This is just a coincidence, it has to be.
"Hi!", her voice, energetic but soft, fills the other side of the phone. Hearing it brings me instant comfort.
"Oh thank God Momma!" I breathe.
"Sorry! You've reached my voicemail. I'm either baking cookies.." my blood runs ice cold and the small hairs stand up on my neck.
"Or spending time with your favorite daughter!" My voice piped in energetically on the other end of the phone.
"My only daughter, Little Red." I can remember her gently pressing the back of her flour covered hand on my cheek as we both giggle. "So leave a message after the beep and I'll ring you back!"
"BEEEEEP," Our voices sing together, our giggles drowned out with a monotone beep.

I open my mouth to beg her to call me back as soon as she gets this voicemail and just at that moment there is a soft knock on the door that makes me jump. My heart is pounding in my chest and the room starts spinning as I get closer to the door. I clutch the phone to my chest and dreadfully walk in that direction. When I opened it I saw two uniformed officers standing on the stoop. Nervously I smooth down my untamed hair and fold my arms across my chest. This town is very quaint, so I recognize the familiar faces as Officer Qinn and Officer Parker. They are frequent customers at the Café most mornings. Both of their faces are grim, as if death painted their faces for them. Officer Quinn had been the one to knock, her long almond brown hair wrapped up in a bun perfectly on her head. She was holding something in her hand. When my eyes move to her hand I instantly recognized the sunflower case to be my mothers phone. I press the end call button on my phone as if in a trance and reach down to brush my fingers along Trix's back, my golden retriever, her tail wagging excitedly at the familiar faces completely oblivious to the tension.

"Anny, may we come in?" Officer Quinn asks softly. I nod once opening the door wider for her and Officer Parker to come in. Shutting the door we walk down the hallway past the stairs and into the kitchen; straightening up a few things that mom didn't get to from my birthday party a few days before. I gesture to the table and offer them to sit. "Can I get you guys a coffee?" I nervously smiled at them as I fidget with my hands.

"No ma'am, we didn't come here for coffee ma'am." Officer Parker's southern twang was deep and very soothing. His brown eyes carried the burden of Officer Quinn's next words.
"Please Anny, sit. I'm afraid we have some bad news about Annette," I can feel the warmth of her palm as she places it on the middle of my back gently guiding me to the wooden round table off to the left of the kitchen.