He did the coffee shop bathroom combo, pushing the buttons in with his index finger. Each number blinked red. He finished with the pound sign. The door lock flashed green. He pushed the door open.

He always moved cautiously going into the restroom. People forget to look the door. Or pressed the lock button twice, unwittingly unlocking it. He didn’t want to move in on people. No need for a naked sight today. God knows not many pretty people were at the coffee shop today. He chortled. Including him, if he was honest.

He stopped, holding the door open.

Two people were inside.

On the floor.

Young. Boy and girl.

Blood pooled around them.

His mind recorded it, loading memory.

He closed the door and rushed to the counter, cutting to the line’s front, saw the manager and shouted her name.

Bonnie turned. He jerked his head and waved once. Come on. Shifted toward the bathroom hall.

She looked puzzled but began to follow.

“Bring your phone,” he said.

Then thought. Two bodies. An unlocked door.

He didn’t remember seeing a weapon.

There had probably been a murderer in the coffee house.

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