François' Quest

5

"..........murdered!"

François' eyes widened to their fullest!
Then his mouth dropped open slightly. His brows involuntarily knitted together into a scowl of sorts. With his closed face fully scowled he started shaking his head to try to clear his thoughts, not believing what he just heard.
"What did you say?!" He needed to hear it repeated.
Lowdian was crying quietly, calmly into his handkerchief, not even looking at him. She said it like, 'My neighbor's cat died.' So calm. So matter of fact. He couldn't have heard right.
He waited!
She got her composure.
"I said, my husband was murdered!" Lots of emotion in that quiet voice of hers.
"Are you serious?" Then he caught himself. "You must be serious, that is no joking matter."
"Yes, I am quite serious."
"Well, did the murderer get caught?"
"Nooooo!" She whined like a little girl whose loving daddy just asked her if her knee was bleeding after she fell off her bike.
"Were the police involved?"
"Yes, they ruled it an accident. No foul play. Basically, they just dropped the case. I can't get help anywhere. I am sure that he was murdered. I can't rest until I find out the truth. I must see that the murderer or murderers are brought to justice. No one believes me."
François' brain was working overtime, again. The wheels were spinning, like the mechanisms in the Swiss-made watch on his wrist, perpetually with precision! His heart went out to her. How could she move on to a new life if she can't close the old one? He must help her. He decided right there that he was going to help her find the murderer.
His heart selfishly skipped a beat at the thought of Lowdian not being married. Nevertheless he knew that he must help her free her heart and her mind of the black cloud that hung over her.
"Not to worry. I am going to help you."
"What?!" She looked shocked. "How can you help me?"
"I have friends in the police department that can help." He had friends everywhere, no enemies. It wasn't just that. He knew that he could solve this crime. He was capable of solving it.
"I appreciate your wanting to help me but the truth is that the Jamaican police are not really interested in solving crimes. I have been down that path and it was useless. Their forensics is a joke. Please believe me when I say that I tried everything."
"Well, you didn't try hard enough. By that I mean, you could not possibly know the people that you are supposed to know, to ask or talk to. I do." Pointing his finger at himself with a smirk of his face.
"Who are you? Some kind of private investigator or something?" She said it in some what of a joking way.
"As a matter of fact, I am." He pulled out his wallet, handed her a business card.
She was stunned. "No! I can't believe this. How is this possible?"
"Maybe the universe brought us together. It knew that you needed me." He smiled that charming, endearing smile again. Hoping she would agree.
There was nothing intimidating about him. He looked like everyone's best friend, a true brother. He was not self-assuming or haughty. But for the eyes.......when you looked deep inside them you saw unmistakable intelligence.
"Is that what you do for a living?" Lowdian asked him with a smile on her face. Shaking her head still not believing what she was looking at.
"Partially. I am actually a Software Engineer."
She just stared at him with her eyes bugged out.

When Lowdian got home she Googled François Graham! The facial expressions she had were priceless when she looked at what Google said about him.
Reading out loud to her very fluffy, spoiled cat, "Mr. Fancy Cat listen to this! Thirty-five Academic Awards, including a National Award. A full scholarship to the University of the West Indies! Was part of the Grace Kennedy Annual Report two years in a row. Got a job before finishing university at CSW International. The leading designers of custom software in the country. And a Fortune 500 company! Wow! This guy is a genius. And a private investigator? On the side? That's amazing."
Mr. Fancy Cat was purring as Lowdian stroked him and talked to him, while shaking her head.
"......AND gorgeous AND interesting too! How did I end up meeting him?" She asked her cat, who didn't care. "This guy should be arrogant, don't you think?"
Mr. Fancy Cat looked at her through half closed eyes, bored.

Lowdian promised to meet François on Monday morning at a quaint coffee shop called 'Yellow Cup'. Yes, indeed, they served coffee in huge yellow cups. More like hug mugs. But they couldn't very well call the shop 'Yellow Mug', could they? The cups looked like big-fat-bumblebees without the black stripes.  The coffee shop was quaint. The interior walls were covered with reclaimed, old red bricks and all kinds of things hanging from the ceiling. Brass pitchers. Old milk jugs. Dried flowers. Many picture frames, gold, ornate, hanging on the walls that were empty, but had coffee and tea paraphernalia mounted in the middle of the frame on the wall. The windows were framed with small twinkle lights. In the night it looked like candle light.  The whole place was decorated 'shabby-chic'. It was cozy and comfortable. A place that you could spend hours in. Bookcases full of worn and used novels and interesting nonfiction books to be read as you drank your coffee. Many of the books had bookmarks in them, where the frequent patrons had stopped their last read. What a clever idea! Let our patrons read and sit somewhere comfortable and keep drinking and eating. There were shelves full of items for sale including different mugs with sayings on them like, "I'm not a morning person! Don't talk to me until this mug of coffee is empty" or "World's Greatest Java Queen."  Painted on the inside bottom of one mug it read, "You need a refill!" and another one that said, "Will You Marry Me?" All kinds of different cakes; chocolate, black forest cake, cheese cake, carrot cake, and homemade ice cream. The place smelled magnificent. By ten o'clock in the morning it was empty. The rush came before everyone had to be at work. The coffee shop was 'ohhhh so American'. An American woman married to a Jamaican man, the two of them were the owners. Jamaicans love all things American. Therefore the couple thought they would try this, 'All-American' coffee shop right in the middle of Kingston, Jamaica. It worked!
Lowdian walked into the place, looked around in all the nooks and crannies for François. There he was looking as handsome as ever. She smiled. He waved to her, got up out of his chair, pulling hers out as she approached.
"Good morning." He smiled at her.
"Good morning to you. Nice to see you again."
"And you! Can I get you a coffee?"
"Yes! Thank you. That would be lovely."
"Have you ever had almond flavored coffee before?"
"Can't say I have." She laughed.
"Want to have a go?"
"Sure. Why not? Let's live dangerously."
They both laughed in unison.
"Cream, sugar."
"Yes. Thanks."
Lowdian felt a bit nervous, not of François per se but of being out with a man, then the unnerving thought of trying to convince, yet another human, that she was telling the truth about her conviction that her husband had been murdered.
As François went to the counter to ask for two 'yellow' cups of coffee, Lowdian was just watching him. She had such pleasant thoughts about him. 'He would be such a great friend to people. So easy to be with. Easy to talk to. I wonder if he has always been this way or is it learned?' She found herself watching him in a hazy way. Eyes kind of glazed over. Not really focused. Just imagining his friends being so thrilled to know him and have him as a friend.
He startled her into the present, "Here we are." Handing her, her big 'yellow' cup.
"Thanks so much."
"Did you want something to eat?"
"No thank you, not right now. I never really eat much in the morning."
"Maybe you would grace me with your presence at lunch today then." He smiled one of those one million dollar smiles at her. How could she resist or refuse?
"Well.....okay." She smiled shyly at him.
"First, we have to get down to business." He said in a very serious tone, still gentle. "You must tell me everything about what happened, what you know or think you know. Also what you feel. Just any thoughts you have great or small. Don't hold anything back. Don't leave anything out."
"Okay." Then she waited thinking that he was going to take out a pad or a note book.
She waited, looking at him.
He sipped his coffee, looking at her.
She waited, looking at him.
He sipped his coffee, looking at her.
François was waiting for her to start talking. She looked around a bit confused, then leaned in and whispered, "Aren't you going to write this down?"
"No need." He simply said.
With raised eyebrows she said, 'genius'.....to herself.