A Zest for Murder (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 5)
Read A Zest for Murder (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 5) Online
Authors: Mary Maxwell
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Cozy, #Women Sleuths
A Zest for Murder
Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries / 5
Mary Maxwell
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and
incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and
any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments,
events or locales is entirely coincidental.
© 2016 Mary Maxwell
03062016
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means
electronic, mechanical, recorded or otherwise, without the prior permission of
the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
1
“She wants
what
? And she
wants it
when
?”
Julia’s face looked like a bright red
balloon: quivering crimson cheeks, simmering frown and eyes wide with
disbelief. It was late afternoon at Sky High Pies, the bakery café that I run
in Crescent Creek, Colorado. Our longtime chef was leaning against the counter
near the sink, coffee in one hand and a blueberry scone in the other. We’d been
rushing around the kitchen since before dawn, filling orders for breakfast and
lunch customers while also juggling special bakery requests and a half dozen
pies for a catering delivery.
When I’d returned to the kitchen
from my office a few minutes earlier, gingerly announcing that one of our
regular customers had suddenly changed her order again, Julia had been in the
middle of measuring ingredients for a double batch of Toffee Coffee Brownies.
We’d talked about it briefly, and I thought everything had been resolved. But
she was upset all over again, so I listened patiently as the rant resumed.
“Does Tipper Hedge think we’re
super human?” she fumed. “Or witches with spatulas instead of broomsticks?”
I wasn’t surprised by the reaction.
When Julia was tired and inundated with demands, there was a good chance she’d
overreact to unexpected news. But since we’re all capable of something similar,
I waited for a moment until she could catch her breath.
“Don’t worry, Jules,” I said. “I
can manage Tipper’s order by myself in the morning. Why don’t you finish what
you’re doing and then head home?”
“But Katie!” Julia stammered. “She
wants it for a party in
two
days!” Her lower lip shuddered briefly. “And
we’ve already got about, like, ten million things to do in the next twenty-four
hours.”
Her eyes left mine to gaze at the
whiteboard on the wall containing our prep lists and special orders. Julia was
right; there were quite a few things to prepare by the close of business the
following day. But her math was a little left of center; the orders included
nine pies, four tarts and six dozen cupcakes instead of ten million. I knew
that her flustered remark was in response to Tipper Hedge’s revised request for
three of our best-selling items: Lemon Love Cookies, Sunshine Citrus Pound Cake
and Orange Cinnamon Scones. The sweet treats were for an afternoon tea that she
was hosting for the Crescent Creek Civic Circle, a group of the town’s movers
and shakers who gathered once each month to gossip and exchange snarky
observations while planning their annual charitable event.
“It’s okay, Jules. Why don’t you
head home and I’ll take care of the last few things we need to do today.”
Julia shook her head. “No way,
José! I’m not going to leave you in the lurch.”
“What lurch? It’s a few easy-easy
things.”
She smirked. “But I left early last
Friday. I don’t want you to think—”
“You left to take your kids to the
dentist. I hardly consider that shirking your responsibilities.”
“Well…” Her eyelashes fluttered and
her frown flipped into a wide smile. “If you’re sure it’s okay.”
I gave her two thumbs up. “More
than okay. The only challenge will be if Tipper calls again to say she doesn’t
want a citrus theme.”
“Do you know why she changed her original
order?”
I smiled. “I can answer that
question with two words: Carmine Dwyer.”
Julia frowned. “What?”
“Carmine Dwyer had a few people
over for brunch a couple of weeks ago,” I explained. “She stopped by late one
afternoon when you were busy in the kitchen and Harper was cleaning the coffee
maker. Since I was up front, I helped Carmine select some goodies for her party
and she went with the same things Tipper originally ordered: Strawberry &
Cream Cake, Perfectly Peachy Blueberry Pie and Blackberry Thumbprint Cookies.”
“Oh, so when Tipper heard that…”
Julia shook her head and laughed. “…she couldn’t stand the idea of serving
something similar?”
“Bingo!”
“Isn’t it amazing how competitive
some people can be?”
“Amazing’s one word for it,” I
said. “But we shouldn’t judge; there will come a day when one of us changes our
mind about something at the last minute.”
Julia narrowed her eyes. “Hmmmm…”
She scrunched her mouth, deep in thought. “Maybe. But I’d never dream of
calling like that and completely changing the order.”
“Never say never, Jules. It’s
something my Nana Reed always told me when she ran Sky High. ‘Never say never!
We’re all quite capable of being picky and indecisive.’”
“I can’t argue with that,” Julia
said, gathering the mixing bowls she’d been using for the batch of brownies.
“Your grandmother was an extraordinary woman, Katie. She built this place from
scratch with chutzpah, hard work and some of the best recipes ever!”
“She was incredible,” I agreed,
glancing at the framed picture of Nana Reed on the far wall. “I miss her more
and more now that I’ve been running Sky High for a few months.”
Julia beamed another bright smile.
“Not as simple as it looks from the outside, right?”
“Not at all! I remember when I was a
kid, zooming through here with my friends or helping to make cookies. It was
all fun and games, like a giant doll house come to life.”
“And now?” Julia asked.
“Oh, it’s still fun,” I said. “But
the games are a lot more complicated.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like Tipper Hedge,” I said.
“Changing her order again two days before the party. Some businesses would
refuse to accommodate her request. And others would charge a fee to alter the
original plans. But in a town as small as Crescent Creek, we need to be a bit
more flexible.”
Julia snickered. “And the fact that
we hadn’t made anything yet helps with that flexibility, right?”
“Exactly!” I smiled. “And, as with
Carmine Dwyer, I actually know why Tipper is changing her mind again.”
“Do tell,” Julia said with a cheeky
grin. “Was it the result of your amateur detective work?”
I shook my head. “More like the
result of a stop at CVS. I ran into Naomi Osbourne last night. She told me to
expect a call from Tipper after word got out on the grapevine that Mona Holt
used a Chocolate & Cherries theme for a party she hosted a couple of days
ago.”
“Can’t they both use the same
idea?”
“Well, they
could
,” I
answered. “But those two have been locked in some kind of crazy competition
since they were fifteen. It’s a lot like Tipper and Carmine; a silly long ago
spat that festers into a lifelong resentment.”
Julia tapped one finger against her
chin. “Oh, that’s right. But this time it’s because Naomi and Tipper both liked
that cute boy from school.”
I nodded. “Yep. And even though neither
one of them ended up with Cody Linkletter, they’ve never outgrown the childhood
rivalry.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Julia
exclaimed.
“I agree completely. And that’s
another reason I’m not starting on Tipper’s order until the very last minute.
Who knows what kind of squabble she’ll get into between now and then!”
CHAPTER
2
I was finishing my makeup that
evening a few minutes after six when Zack called to say he was running late.
“How late?” I asked. “We’re
supposed to be at Blanche’s in an hour.”
He hummed into the phone; the
familiar melody that accompanied his contemplative decisions about menu
selections, movie choices and arrival times on the rare occasions when he was
behind schedule. “I’d guess maybe twenty minutes,” he said finally. “And I’m really
sorry, Katie. The photo shoot for the newspaper’s first DIY Diary turned into a
freak show this afternoon.”
“What happened?”
He groaned. “Remember that old
movie
Nightmare on Elm Street
?”
I giggled. “Uh-huh.”
“Well, that’s a romantic comedy
compared to my day. I was at Darrell and Melinda Griswell’s place to get shots
of the new kitchen floor they installed. Let’s just say that it did not go as
planned.”
“Want to tell me about it on the
way to Blanche’s?”
“Not especially. I’d rather just
spend some quality time with the woman of my dreams.”
I smiled at my reflection in the
bathroom mirror. “That can be arranged,” I teased. “If you have her number,
I’ll give her a call and ask her to—”
Ka-boom-boom
! Someone
knocked on my front door—loudly and with gusto.
“Hey, sweetie?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“I’ve got to go. Somebody’s at the
door.”
“Sure thing,” Zack said. “I’ll be
there in a flash. And if Freddy Krueger’s on your front porch, don’t let him
in.”
I assured my handsome photographer
that I’d refuse entry to any Hollywood monsters. Then I hurried down the hall
and pressed one eye against the peephole.
“Oh, brother,” I said quietly. “She
is working my very last nerve.”
When I unlocked and opened the
door, Tipper Hedge rushed inside with a burst of icy air and the faint aroma of
Chanel No. 5.
“Hi, Katie!” she blurted. “I’m so
sorry to ambush you like this, but I’ve got a
huge
favor to ask.”
I forced a smile. “What a
surprise!”
“I know.” She plopped into one of
the chairs in my living room. “I would’ve called, but…” Her gaze drifted around
the room. “You know how it goes?”
“Of course,” I said. “But Zack and
I are—”
“I know, I know. You’re going to
Blanche Speltzer’s for dinner. So am I. But I forgot all about bringing a
hostess gift. I was hoping you might have something downstairs in the display
case that I could grab real quick.”
The grin on my face softened.
“Well…”
Tipper leaned forward, both hands
pressed together as if in prayer. “Please, please,
pretty
please!”
“What about a nice bottle of wine?”
I suggested. “Dunkirk’s is right on the way.”
She considered the proposal. “I
don’t think Blanche likes wine.”
“Really?” I asked in disbelief.
“Since when?”
“Since…I don’t know,” Tipper
answered. “I was at Rosemary Dodge’s house for one of her Meditation &
Martini workshops, and she—”
“Whoa! Hold up there!”
“What is it?” She glanced nervously
at her watch. “We’re all supposed to be there in, like, less than an hour,
Katie!”
“I know, but you can’t just throw
out ‘meditation’ and ‘martini’ in the same breath and expect me to ignore it.”
Her forehead creased. “What? Didn’t
you get one of Rosemary’s flyers?”
“For a meditation workshop?”
Tipper nodded eagerly. “Yeah. After
her trip to Sedona, she’s all jazzed up about New Age this and that.”
“That mixes martinis with
meditation?”
“Yeah, yeah!” Her eyes flicked to
her wrist again. “I’ve got my doubts if she’s even serious about it or not, but
there’s no time to go into that now! Can I get something from downstairs?”
Despite the strong desire to tell
Tipper Hedge to take a hike, I didn’t want to create any ill will. She could be
indecisive. She could be forgetful. And she could be obnoxious if she had too
many cocktails. But we’d been friends since grade school, so I grabbed my keys,
hurried down the outside stairs and unlocked the door to the Sky High kitchen.
“You’re an angel,” Tipper gushed as
we headed for the display cases in the dining room.
“And a fool,” I whispered under my
breath.
When we arrived at our destination,
Tipper began raving about a few of her favorite sugary treats. While she
praised Nana Reed’s cookies and pies, I slipped a Cherry Chocolate Bundt Cake
into a white bakery box and sealed it with a gold embossed Sky High sticker.
“Here you go, Tipper. I’ll see you
at Blanche’s.”
She thanked me for the cake and
started to search for her wallet in the suitcase-sized Birkin bag dangling from
her willowy arm.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said,
pressing one hand against her back. “You’re a great customer and a true friend!
Let this be my treat!”
“Okay,” she said, wrapping me in a
loose hug and pressing a hurried kiss on my cheek. “But promise you won’t tell
anyone that I didn’t pay for it!”
“Never in a million years,” I
pledged. “Now, vamoose! We’ll see you soon!”