I woke up before the sun rose, as was my normal routine, which would have made my mom laugh if she was around. I could still hear the faint sound of her voice as she mocked my hatred of mornings, but I thought I could have argued that since it was still dark it wasn't TRULY morning. Of course, she never understood how I could hate the taste of coffee, yet love the smell so much that I spent all my extra time in Uncle Davey's coffee shop. I remembered the phone in the café ringing and hearing the baristas he had working grinning as they confirmed I was there, and knowing that Mom was checking on me again, even though I was a street wise ten year old by then.

A quick shower, dressing in one of my casual, yet business appropriate outfits that my apron would cover perfectly while I mixed and baked up the day's sweet offerings, I had my hair up in the ever present and perfect for baking topknot and down the stairs I went. I was happy to see that the group that had rented the shop had turned off the lights like I'd asked, that they hadn't made even a hint of a mess was a welcome surprise, and then I was called to the kitchen by my need to create something tempting and edible.

Baking had always been something that calmed me, that centered me in a way that nothing else seemed to. I loved to read, but even taking up a book tended to make my heart race, disappearing into a story wasn't calming, it was inspiring. Baking? Baking was something I found both enjoyable, and easy. I mixed and baked, letting the scent of cinnamon, chocolate, and a hint of sugar and vanilla fill the air. I'd be finished long before the first employee arrived, which would be Keli again. She was my standard opener, and while she could be a snotty little shit, she was good at her job. Mostly.

"Morning, Keli," I offered when she walked in moments after the pastry cases were filled to the brim with fresh treats and the scent of coffee filled the air.

She muttered a greeting, which I could understand since I wasn't exactly a morning person myself, but she'd ASKED for the morning shift so she could have evenings off with her girlfriend and her girlfriend's son. I watched as she put on her smock, a requirement so their clothing wouldn't be ruined by the cleaner that kept the tables sanitary and I knew for a fact that enough icing on any fabric would kill it. She seemed even more quiet and off than usual and I was trying to decide if I should ask her about it or not when the bell on the door chimed, even though the open sign hadn't been flipped.

Looking up from where I'd been getting the register ready for the day, I was about to tell the eager early bird that we'd be open in a few minutes, when I realized it was two cops. Damn it, I managed to put the fire across the street completely out of my head.

"Hello, officers, how I can help you?" Why bother with the standard greeting? From the looks on their faces, and the fact that one was roaming around the café looking out the front windows that faced the ruins across the street, I thought I knew why they were here.

The policeman who had stayed in front of me while his partner stalked around the open room smiled at me. Good cop, I thought. "Miss-" he looked at his notebook and back up at me. "Ramble?" I nodded, and sighed at what was coming next. "Are you related to Councilman Ramble?" Yes, he's my dirtbag father, I wanted to say, but that wouldn't do in our quaint little town.

"That's my father," I gritted, hoping that my smile hadn't dropped. I waited for the next question.

"You manage this shop, correct?" I raised an eyebrow at the idiocy, but nodded again. "Were you home last night, Miss Ramble?"

"Charlotte, please, I insist." I offered, hoping it sounded sweet and accommodating. "I came home after dinner with a friend at Enzo's." His turn to raise an eyebrow. "We were getting to know one another better, so I guess it was more of an acquaintance to friendship dinner. I came along as the firemen were putting out the fire."

His partner had joined him and was studying me with an interest that I didn't want to consider. "While you were at this dinner, friendly or whatever, did you know you left the lights on in the shop?" I nodded. Of course, I did, I assured them. I had planned on doing paperwork, but then after I got home, I turned them off and went to bed. "That doesn't make much sense, Miss Ramble, since the lights were on right before the fire started, but off when we showed up." Shit. I shook my head, squinting like I was trying to remember the day before.

"You know what," I hoped I sounded like I fucking just remembered that I fucking forgot my day because of the routine of it. "I'm so used to finishing my paperwork during the day, deposits and all, that I think I came down BEFORE dinner and turned them off." I slapped my forehead like I realized I was a putz. "The days, gentlemen, they blend together like a fine Columbian coffee. Speaking of which, could I offer you a free cup? And a pastry?" Butter up the donut eaters, Char, hope for the best.

Good cop, suddenly coming to the realization that they hadn't introduced themselves and being tempted by GOOD coffee and FRESH pastries, offered that he was Detective Marks, while grumpy bad cop was Detective Johnson. I redirected their attention to the practically glowing case that held the fruits of my early morning baking, giving them both what the pointed to, and then filled large insulated carryout cups of their choice of coffee blend. Smiling I hoped like fuck that I'd ended the questioning, but Detective Johnson didn't get the bribe idea well.

"That's good coffee." He muttered into his cup, then his eyes locked back onto me and he opened his mouth. "Now, Miss Ramble, since you turned off the lights BEFORE your little friend thing, and you weren't home during the start of the fire, could you think of any strange people that have been loitering around lately?" My mind flashed to the five newcomers.

I shook my head. "No, we mostly see regulars. And we get NEW regulars all the time." I hoped like FUCK that Keli wasn't paying attention. I needed her input like I needed a hole in my fucking head. "No one stands out." Again a flash of the five rose up in my eyes. Don't think about them, asshole. "Sorry, I can always-" like he read my thoughts, which was a scary fucking idea, Detective Marks handed me his card. "I'll give you a call."

"Please do, Charlotte," he took a sip of his coffee and his eyes closed in appreciation. "And thanks for the coffee and treats." With a wink, which his partner looked ready to make permanent, they left.

The morning went along normally, although none of the five came in for their daily dose of free wifi and amazing refreshments, and I tried VERY hard not to let my mind wander to whether or not they had anything at all to do with the torching of my across the street neighbor. Fuck.