Coffee and Killings by Simon Maltman

The hubbub of the cafe offered a pleasant background noise. It was Saturday and customers in the Starbucks seemed generally relaxed and to be enjoying their conversations. It was the beginning of spring and the morning sun allowed most to be in t-shirts and some to venture into shorts. Russell sat at the corner table in a sleeveless striped shirt and blue jeans. His second Frappucino sat as yet untouched while he leafed through his Classic Rock magazine. He glanced over at his Uncle Marty and then took a sip of his caramel frothy goodness.

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