Cleo Coyle - Through the Grinder (Coffeehouse Mysteries, No. 2)

Praise for Cleo Coyles Coffeehouse Mystery #1

On w hat g rou nds

#1 Paperback Bestseller

Independent Mystery Booksellers Association

A great beginning to a new series... Clare and Matteo make a great team... On What Grounds will convert even the most fervent tea drinker into a coffee lover in the time it takes to draw an espresso.

The Mystery Reader

The first book in Coyles new series is a definite winner!

The mystery is first rate, and the characters leap from the page and are compelling, vivid, and endearing. The aroma of this story made this noncoffee drinker want to visit the nearest coffee bar.

Romantic Times

A fun, light mystery. Recommended.

KLIATT

[A] clever, witty, and lighthearted cozy. Cleo Coyle is a bright new light in the mystery horizon. The Best Reviews

Coffee lovers will delight in Clares tips on roasting, grinding, storing, and preparing the perfect cup of coffee (and using the grounds to tell the future). And her luscious recipes and captivating anecdotes about the important role of coffee in the history of civilization are a perfect accent to the rich blend of characters and plot that make On WhatGrounds such a satisfying mystery. This new series is off to a piping-hot start, and we cant wait to see what new cases the author has percolating!

The Barnes & Noble Review

Berkley Prime Crime Books by Cleo Coyle on what grounds

through the grinder

latte trouble

murder most frothy

Through

the gri nde r

c

BERKLEY PRIME CRIME, NEW YORK

THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA Penguin Group (Canada), 10 Alcorn Avenue, Toronto, Ontario M4V 3B2, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephens Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), Cnr. Airborne and Rosedale Roads, Albany, Auckland 1310, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

A Berkley Prime Crime book / published by arrangement with the author Copyright 2004 by The Berkley Publishing Group. Cover art by Catherine Gendron.

Cover design by Rita Frangie.

Interior text design by Kristin del Rosario. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in vio lation of the authors rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

For information address: The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. ISBN: 1-4295-1330-6

BERKLEY

Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. The name BERKLEY PRIME CRIME and the BERKLEY PRIME CRIME design are trademarks belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

Once again to Martha Bushko and John Talbot

with whipped cream and caramel syrup on top!

When you are worried, have trouble of one sort or anotherto the coffee house!...

You could not find a mate to suit youcoffee house!

You feel like committing suicidecoffee house!

You hate and despise human beings, and at the same time you can not be happy without themcoffee house!

To the Coffee House!

Viennese poet Peter Altenberg

xyxyxyxyxyxyxyxyxyxyxyxy

S he had to die.

The Genius knew this and was absolutely fine with it.The problem, of course, was how.

In the Geniuss view, almost any problem could besolved through study. So it was no surprise when the studyof Valerie Lathems life yielded the solution to her death.The air on that pale November morning displayed an es-pecially cruel bite, stabbing at cheeks, chins, and all otherareas of exposed human flesh. Still, the Genius stood withthe usual patience at the usual bus stop, pretending to waitfor the usual bus. Reading the paper was usual enough,too, but the Times articles felt incomprehensible today, andthe wait became interminable.

When the twenty-seven-year-old woman finally emergedfrom her dingy brick apartment building, the Genius fol-lowed the pert face and slender figure, the shoulder-lengthretro flip hair the color of rancid butter, the black boots 2

C l e o C oy l e

with heels too high, green cargos a size too small, and thatcheap red leather jacket shed purchased at SoHo Jeans theday before.

With brisk steps, the woman followed Bleecker acrossSixth Avenue, the wide, high-traffic chasm dividing modernManhattan from the year 1811, when city fathers and theirEuclidean plans for perpendicular streets were defied byvillage residents who refused to have their districts twistedlanes made straight.

For two hundred years, this winding web of cobblestonestreets, narrow alleys, and secluded pathways has obeyedno logical pattern. The frosty air has been tinged with theacrid smell of logs burning on nineteenth century hearths.Gas lamps have been flickering near gated mews, hiddengardens, or sedate churchyards. And the sidewalks haveedged not skyscrapers arranged in uniform grids, but alow-lying landscape of three-and four-story row houses,many now lodging offbeat boutiques, pricey bistros, andthe occasional dark-paneled puball closed for businessat this early hour.

A corner on Hudson was the womans first stop, the siteof a four-story Federal-style townhouse occupied for thelast ten decades by the Village Blend coffeehouse. As shereached for the old brass handle, the beveled glass doorswung wide, vomiting out three pubescent NYU studentswith a gust of roasting coffee.

Ah, yes, whispered the genius, that heavenly smell...

The earthy aroma drifted across the cobblestones on thecrisp, fall aira sirens call of freshly frothed cappucci-nos, warm pastries, anise biscotti, and bracing espressos.But entering the Blend was not an option. Not for the Ge-nius. Not until the objective was achieved.

One push. Timed just right. One simple push.

Until then, there would be no cozy fireplace, no foamedmilk, no buttery croissant. Across the street, the Genius T h ro u g h t h e G ri n d e r

shifted from foot to foot on the cold sidewalk, eyes peering