The Phantom Killer

Chapter 5: Blood in the water

Sapphire Cafe
Entertainment District, Ridgetop
09:30 AM

April’s gaze flicked anxiously around the coffee shop. She was on her fourth shot of espresso, and her friend Samuel wasn’t anywhere in sight. He’d arranged to meet with her, but he was fifteen minutes late.

That either meant he was dying, or burying someone else’s body. Probably the latter.

She took another sip of her coffee, tapping her foot rapidly on the floor.

Samuel strode in minutes later, hair knotted at the base of his neck. His eyes glowed softly behind his glasses as he looked around the café. He spotted April, a large smile pulled his lips as he walked towards her.

People's heads turned as he passed, whispers rising. He sat beside April, glancing at her rapidly tapping foot, "ADHD level speed, as always." He teased with a smile.

April rolled her eyes, "Shut up. You're late."

Samuel pursed his lips, looking at his watch, "Am I? I'm sorry, got caught up at work."

"Oh? Who?"

"I'm sorry?" He looked up at her.

She gave him a look, "Come on Sam. We've been friends for 7 years at this point, I see through you."

Samuel sighed, "Crime boss. Couldn't just let the opportunity pass up now could I?"

She lightly slapped his shoulder, "When you're meeting me, yes."

She could tell he rolled his eyes, "Whatever. How many of those have you drank already?" He asked.

She looked at her cup, "Uh…four so far. But it’s early. I’ll probably drink at least three more."

"I swear you're gonna die at thirty-five at this rate…” Samuel said, shaking his head.

"Pfft, I wish." She muttered, hailing the barista, "Hey! Can I get another  espresso, and a croissant?”

The short, green-haired barista nodded. “Of course. I’ll have that out in a second.”

He glanced at Sam. “Anything for you, sir?” he asked with a light tease.

Sam steepled his fingers, chewing his cheek for a moment, "Uh sure, can I get a black coffee and four croissants please?"

“Black coffee and four croissants. You never change do you Sam?” the barista said.

He lightly drummed his fingers on the countertop, “Not really, no. I’m what you call a creature of habit.”

Emry nodded slowly, “Well, if that is’t the truth. Well, I’ll be back with your orders, and as always, enjoy your time here.

Samuel smiled at Emry, giving him a nod, "Of course, thank you Emry. I'll be sure to."

A few minutes later Emry gave Samuel his food and coffee, and as Sam paid and sat down the bell above the door chimed. A tall, slender man walked in with a friendly smile on his face. He had close-cropped blond hair and a tanned complexion. He wore a navy blue overcoat and black pants.

The man approached the counter, reaching into his coat. As he locked eyes with Emry, his smile vanished.

“You need to come with me, Mister Carlson,” the man said quietly, pulling out a pistol.

Samuel took a bite of his croissant and smiled softly, "I haven't had something this good in days."

Emry's eyes immediately flashed in discontent, "Put that away if you know what's good for you." He gritted softly. His eyes darted to the gun and back to the man's face.