Death Is A Redhead

Chapter Two: The Scene

There she was. Cindy. His favorite barista. She was silhouetted against the orange Arizona sunrise developing outside the window behind her. It gave her a halo effect. The light filtered softly through her curly strawberry blonde hair. Curly fries. That's what her hair reminded him of. He loved curly fries.

"Hi David," she said, as he approached the counter. "Let me guess. A white chocolate mocha and blueberry muffin?"

"Yes, please," he mouthed. No sound came out. He cleared his throat. "Actually I'll have two of each today."

"Hot breakfast date?"

"No, nothing like that," he giggled. He cleared his throat again, trying to suppress the blush he could feel spreading over his face. "It's a business breakfast with my partner. I mean, my colleague. My totally platonic business colleague." Too much?

"Too bad. Seems like a waste of a beautiful sunrise," she mused, gazing out the window. "Breathtaking."

"Yes," he whispered.

"That'll be thirteen, fifty," she said, rousing him from his reverie.

Clumsily, he inserted his card in the card reader. He checked his Apple watch during the awkward pause before his card was accepted. The digital screen flashed 8:04. He was expected at the office by 8:30.

He can't be late today. Felicity had done him a favor by covering that insurance investigation last night. A couple minutes later he was back in his car with breakfast in tow.

Felicity always got to the office first. She practically lived there. Today her car was conspicuously missing from her assigned spot behind the Saguaro business plaza. David glanced at the dashboard clock which read 8:35.

Well this is a first. Maybe last night's stakeout took longer than expected. Still, it's not like Felicity to sleep in.

He pulled into the spot beside hers. Their small detective agency was one the only business in the stucco strip mall without a back door. Meandering around the tan and boxy complex to the front door, David nodded a greeting to the ornery custodian. The fellow had worked for the mall long before he and Felicity had opened their business. And probably would long after.

Where had David put the key to the office? He set the coffees on one of the concrete planters by the front door and patted his pockets. He couldn't remember the last time he had it. Felicity would always open in the morning and close at night. He trotted back to the car and checked all of the obvious places. Nothing. He popped the trunk and rummaged through his bags.

David believed that the key to success in any endeavor is preparation. Therefore, in the trunk of his car, he kept simple disguises and surveillance equipment. In fact, David stayed up to date on the latest detective technology by taking monthly trips to the local "Spy Shop." Felicity said real detectives don't need "toys" to solve cases, but this state of the art equipment had been invaluable to him in the past. However, none of his disguises or devices could get him into the office without a key.

He turned back to see the custodian drive away in a Ford pickup truck. There went the only other person in the area with a key to the office. He'd have to call her. He didn't relish the idea of waking her. If anybody deserved to sleep in, it was Felicity. Inhaling deeply, he dialed her number.

"Hello?" she answered. She sounded happy. The case must have gone well.

"Hi sleepyhead. In the mood for some coffee?" he asked, sitting on the hood of his car.