A Zest for Murder (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 5) (8 page)

CHAPTER
19

It was nearly seven when I walked
through the door at Zack’s place with a roast chicken from Yardbird’s in one hand
and a bottle of New Zealand Pinot Noir in the other.

“Hey, gorgeous!”

I put the chicken and wine on the
counter before surrounding him with a ravenous hug.

“It’s so good to be here,” I said
into his chest. “My feet hurt, my head’s pounding and—”

Zack chuckled. “How about something
stronger than that wine then?”

“Such as?”

“Tequila,” he said. “Or I’ve still
got that vodka in the freezer from the night we made White Russians.”

I considered the idea for a moment.
But then I decided not to risk waking up the next morning with a hangover.

“Let’s stick with the original
plan,” I said. “Some roast chicken, those crispy potatoes, a couple glasses of
wine.”

Zack opened the cabinet above the
dishwasher, came out with two plates and put them on the table. “And some
cuddling?”

I smiled. “That can be arranged.”

“Why don’t you ditch those heels
and change into my Broncos jersey?” he suggested. “You’ll be more comfortable
and I’ll get to admire the hottest pair of legs this side of the Continental
Divide.”

My heart quivered as it always did.
“You are so…” I let a kiss finish the thought. Then I dropped my purse on the
table, kicked off my shoes and let my coat slip from my shoulders.

“There’s time for a glass of wine,”
Zack said. “The chicken’s got another fifteen minutes or so.”

“I’m good with that.” I found a
wine opener in the silverware drawer. “I’ll just—”

He plucked the utensil from my
hand. “Heck no, gorgeous! You go get comfortable and I’ll meet you in the
living room in a sec.”

I gave him a peck and walked toward
the hallway.

“Hey, Katie,” he called. “Any news
about Tipper? I should’ve asked right when you got here, but…” I turned around
and his eyebrows did a little dance. “I tend to get distracted when a beautiful
woman walks in the door.”

“Nothing yet,” I said. “I talked to
Trent earlier. They’re working every angle.”

He smiled and nodded, but then his
eyes narrowed. “What is it?” he asked. “I can see you’re thinking about
something, sweetie.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about Tipper. I
can’t get her voice out of my head, babe. She was so…” I felt my pulse quicken.
“I’ve never heard anyone sound so terrified, Zack. It just keeps playing in my
mind, over and over. The way she sounded. The panic, you know? In her voice?”

He stopped opening the wine and
walked over to where I was standing. His hands were strong and resolute on my
shoulders, and his skin was warm as he pressed his forehead against mine.

“Katie?”

I blinked.

“They’ll find her.”

“Let’s hope so,” I whispered. “And
let’s pray for a miracle.”

CHAPTER
20

After we ravaged the roast chicken
and finished the bottle of wine, I drifted into the living room while Zack took
care of kitchen duty. It was obvious that he’d spruced up his apartment: the
sofa pillows were arranged in a neat row like plump soldiers, the carpet showed
zigzag wheel marks from the vacuum and the subtle citrus aroma in the air
suggested a can of Lemon Pledge had been in the vicinity within the last couple
of hours.

I turned on the TV, lowered the
volume and settled onto the sofa. Between the delicious food and the Pinot
Noir, I was more relaxed than I’d been in days. While Zack puttered around the
kitchen, whistling a Chris Stapleton tune and loading the dishwasher, I closed
my eyes and leaned back against the cushions. My mind wandered to Tipper. And
the woman on the kitchen floor. And the simmering fear that I may never see my
friend again. I was sifting through details from the crime scene when I heard
footsteps coming down the hallway.

“Busy day tomorrow?” Zack asked as
he plopped down beside me.

“The usual,” I said. “Plus three
birthday cake orders by the close of business. And I need to place orders for
dairy and paper goods.”

“Ah, the glamorous life of a
self-governing entrepreneur,” Zack said. “What I wouldn’t give for a few days
without a boss.”

I pivoted on the seat. “Oh, don’t
be fooled by all the glamour, sweetheart. I’ve got more bosses than you can
imagine.”

“Like who?”

“Well, there’s Nana Reed. And my
parents. And my sister just loves to share her words of wisdom on a regular basis.”

“They’re not your boss, Katie. I’m
talking about working for Gretchen at the newspaper.”

“But she’s not your boss if you’re
a freelance photographer.”

He rolled his eyes. “Tell that to
Gretchen.”

“What’re you talking about? Is she
turning into a little dictator?”

He smiled. “I shouldn’t have
brought it up. Everything’s cool.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

He nuzzled my neck. I felt his
stubble and it sent a chill along my spine.

“How about you?” I said. “What’s
tomorrow look like?”

“I’m going to the school board
meeting for some candid behind-the-scenes stuff,” he answered. “And then a
bunch of photography students from the high school are coming to the newspaper
for a tour. Gretchen asked me to help out with that.”

I pulled him closer and we enjoyed
a warm embrace for a few minutes. Life could be more than a little hectic, and
I relished the simple joy of our date nights.

“Should we start the movie I picked
up?” Zack asked eventually.

“Sounds good.”

“Or we could just sit here and
canoodle.”

“Sounds even better,” I said as he
kissed my forehead and then the tip of my nose.

A few more tender moments passed.
When Zack called my name, I nearly jumped.

“Oh! Sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to
startle you.”

“That’s okay. I’m just really,
really,
really
relaxed right now.”

“That makes two of us,” he
murmured. “Mind if I ask a question?”

I hummed a response.

“What’s the latest on Tipper?”

The question banished the tranquil
purr of peace from my mind.

“No news since we talked this afternoon,”
I said. “I know Trent and everyone is going full-speed, but it seems like
everything is moving slower than molasses.”

“Any clues at all?”

“A few,” I said. “There seems to be
a New Mexico connection. And they’re obviously searching every square inch of
her neighborhood and the surrounding areas. I was actually thinking about going
to Tipper’s street tomorrow afternoon to talk with the neighbors.”

I felt Zack’s body stiffen
slightly. “Don’t you think the police have already done that?”

“Sure, but I want to…” His furrowed
brow conveyed the tremors of concern rippling just beneath the surface. “It
won’t hurt anything if I go and ask a couple of my own questions,” I continued.
“And, before you say anything, I promise to be careful.”

“I don’t doubt it for a second,
Katie. But I think you should let Trent know what you’re up to.”

I shook my head. “He’s got enough
on his plate at the moment. If I give him a heads up, there’s always a chance
he’ll get bent out of shape.”

“Which is why you should give him a
little advance notice.” Zack laughed and leaned closer. “I mean, it’s not like
you and he haven’t been down this same road before.”

“You mean the time I helped Viveca
find out who was trying to kill her brother?”

He nodded. “Or when you were
helping Mrs. Scheck identify the person who kept coming into the store and
mixing up all of the shoes.”

“That’s an ongoing investigation,”
I said.

“Still haven’t caught the criminal
yet?”

“Nope. Three customers bought ski
boots within the last month, but when they got home they had two different
sizes in the box.”

“Isn’t that their fault?” asked
Zack. “I mean, who buys boots without trying them on first?”

“Yours truly!” I said with a wide
grin. “If it’s a brand I’ve worn before. I mean, I know my foot’s the same
size. And I’m already familiar with the way their shoes fit.”

He pressed his mouth to my ear.
“Caveat emptor,” he whispered. The heat from his breath revived my drowsy inner
core. “Let the buyer beware.”

“I know what it means,” I said.
“But I don’t know if I agree with the premise for every situation.”

As he started to deliver his next
words of wisdom, Zack yawned and stretched his arms overhead. When he finished,
the right arm floated down and pulled me back in against his muscular chest.

“I hate to be a party pooper,” he
said. “But I’ve got to get up extra early tomorrow.”

“Earlier than me?”

“I know, I know. You do four-thirty
or five every day, Katie. But it’s not my usual deal. I want to make sure I get
at least a few good hours of sleep before the alarm goes off.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“School board meeting,” he said.
“For some unfortunate reason, they’re getting together before the annual
pancake breakfast.”

I reached over and patted his
thigh. “You poor thing! Such inhumane working conditions.”

He winced. “I know. But I’ve never
been a morning person.”

“Never?” I asked, wiggling my
eyebrows.

“Well, there’s always the
occasional exception to the rule.”

“Like last Saturday morning,” I said,
lowering my voice to a husky rasp. “And the Saturday before that. And the
Saturday—”

He silenced my teasing with a
protracted kiss. Then he pushed up from the sofa, reached for my hand and
helped me get to my feet.

“You are one hot tamale, Katie Reed!”
he said, attempting to mimic my throaty tone. “I am so glad that you picked me
out of all the suitors who were standing in line outside your door.”

I laughed and tweaked his nose.
“Those weren’t suitors, silly. Those were just a bunch of hungry guys coming to
Sky High for the BOGO on cupcakes.”

CHAPTER
21

The next afternoon, while Julia and
Harper sat at the counter in the dining room enjoying their post-work
cappuccino, I bid them farewell, climbed into my car and drove across town to
Hanover Lane. I parked in front of Tipper’s house and stared at the yellow
crime scene tape looped around the perimeter. I noticed a pair of blue
disposable booties underneath one of the shrubs near the garage.

“Heathens,” I muttered under my
breath. “Can’t even clean up after themselves.”

I got out, collected the wayward
booties and slipped them into my pocket. As I turned to retrace my steps, I
noticed a woman across the street and down one house. She was waving at me from
her front porch, so I returned the gesture and went over to see what was on her
mind.

“You’re Audrey’s little girl,
right?”

I never squabbled when someone
referred to me as my mother’s daughter. Even when they made me feel like I was
back in middle school with the unfortunate haircut, gruesome braces and
intractable baby fat from head to toe. In this case, I recognized the woman as
Lila Belle Devereaux, a buxom blonde who did everything in her power to imitate
Marilyn Monroe’s appearance after someone once said she reminded them of the
Hollywood legend.

“Yes, Mrs. Devereaux.” I smiled and
tried to decide if the dark smear on her face was left from lunch or the
elderly woman’s attempt at a beauty mark. “It’s Kate Reed. How are you?”

She crumpled her mouth into a
snarl. “Been better. Walter found the polka CDs that I’d stashed in the back of
the guest bath vanity. If I hear ‘In Heaven There is No Beer’ one more time, I
may be forced to use the paring knife for something other than peeling an
apple.”

I nodded solemnly at the roundabout
threat. “A woman’s got to do what a woman’s got to do, right?”

She tugged on the front door
handle. “Come on inside. It’s colder than a witch’s knocker in a brass bra out
here!”

I stepped inside as she held the
door. When she came in behind me, I heard muffled polka music from somewhere
deep in the house.

“See what I mean?” One of her
slender arms lifted and she shook her fist. “I should’ve burned those silly
polka records. That man’s intentionally trying to push me over the edge with
that nonsense.”

She smiled and grumbled before
turning on her heel and zipping toward the kitchen.

“Cup of decaf?” she asked, raising
a bottle of red wine from the counter. “Or would you rather have a glass of
wine?”

“Neither,” I said. “But thanks for
the offer.”

“You’re most welcome, Katie.” She stepped
back, flattened one hand against her cheek and started humming along with the
polka song. “I actually adore this one. I just like to give my hubby a hard
time about it. You know—keep him on his toes and all?”

I nodded. “Absolutely.”

She poured some wine into a clear
plastic tumbler. Then she asked if I was hungry.

“No, but thanks,” I said as she
joined me at the table. “I’m glad you saw me at Tipper’s. I was going to come
over and ask you a couple of questions after I picked up the booties.” I paused
while she upended the glass and chugged the wine. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“Of course, Katie! Anything for
Audrey’s little girl.”

“Were you home the afternoon that
Tipper went missing?”

Lila Belle took a long, slow
breath. “Such a tragedy.”

I waited for more, but she closed
her eyes after the brief pronouncement and swayed in her chair.

“Did you see anyone suspicious in
the area that day?” I said finally.

Her eyes popped open. “I saw you.”

I smiled. “Did I look suspicious?”

“Oh, heavens no! Did you say
‘suspicious’ just then?”

I nodded.

“Sorry about that. Half of my brain
is listening to you while the other half is doing the polka with my hubby on
the dance floor at Vandyke’s Danceteria in Leadville back in…” She stopped and
refilled her plastic tumbler. “Shoot now! There I go, rambling all over the
world and forgetting what you asked me.”

I waited until she’d taken a small
sip. Then I repeated my question about suspicious individuals in the area the
day that Tipper vanished.

Lila Belle swirled the wine in her
glass. “You betcha! I saw the man you talked to when you got up to Tipper’s
door.”

“The one with the dog?”

Her face tightened. “The dog that
left a little present on the end of our driveway,” she griped. “And, by ‘a
little present,’ I mean—”

“I’m sorry to hear about that,” I
cut in. “The man told me that he’s a neighbor of yours.”

She scoffed, swirling the wine
again. “Hell if he is! That scalawag and some skinny woman with dark hair
showed up the night before with that pooping machine on a leash. I figured they
were Tipper’s friends or relatives. But then I saw him jockeying the vehicles
around just a half hour or so before you pulled up. He was acting all shifty
and everything, looking around, creeping in and out of the backyard, moving his
dented old truck into the garage, closing the door and then doing the same
thing with a dark SUV. He finally left Tipper’s fancy car in the driveway
before he pranced off with that little dog.”

“The SUV belongs to Tipper’s
boyfriend,” I said. “The police are still trying to identify the owner of the
old pickup.”

Lila Belle’s forehead creased with
uncertainty. “Which one’s her boyfriend?”

The question caught me off guard.
When I asked her to explain, she covered her mouth with a slender hand and said
something so quiet I didn’t catch a word.

“I’m sorry, but can you repeat
that?”

“I said that it’s hard to know
which one’s her boyfriend,” Lila Belle said in a slow, steady voice. “Because
I’ve seen her being sweet on two different boys in as many days.”

Once again, I was surprised by her
answer. I considered the most diplomatic way to ask her to elaborate, but
decided there was no need or time for subtlety.

“Do you mean you saw her kissing
two men?”

“Uh-huh,” she said. “At least, I
think so.”

“Did you meet either of them?”

She shook her head. “Didn’t want
to, Katie. I know scalawags when I see them. In some cases, I can spot ’em from
a million miles away.”

“Was one tall and rather handsome?”

She gestured at the thick lens in
her glasses. “I don’t get much detail with these puppies,” she said. “So I
can’t comment on whether or not either of them are good-looking. But I do know
that one was taller than the other. And the shorter one has the little yappy
white dog.”

I nodded and let the details sift
down into my brain. If Lila Belle was correct, she was throwing a huge curve
ball into the scenario. According to Blanche Speltzer, Tipper had introduced
Kyle Gallagher as her new beau. But now Lila Belle was confiding that she’d
seen Tipper being affectionate with two different men.

“You look perplexed, Katie. Did I
say something wrong?”

“Oh, gosh no! I’m just…well, I’m a
little stunned. I’d heard that Tipper was dating
one
man, not two.”

She chuckled. “Well, we can’t
believe everything we’re told. What do you know about the fellow?”

“Not much actually,” I answered. “I
guess it was a fairly new relationship. And Blanche Speltzer told me that she
met Kyle one day when he was out shopping with Tipper.”

Lila Belle drank more wine, swirled
the final few drops around the bottom of the glass and then swallowed the last
of it in one gulp.

“Sure you’re not hungry, Katie?”

“I’m sure, Lila Belle.”

“Why are you asking about Tipper’s
boyfriend and his dog?”

“Did you also see the taller man
with the dog?”

She scrunched her nose. “Oh, I have
no idea. Things tend to blur together after a certain point in the day.”

I glanced at the half-filled bottle
of wine. There were two others just like it on the counter by the toaster.

“Well, I’m asking because I have a
hunch that the shorter guy with the dog may be involved in the incident.”

“You mean the abduction? That’s
what everyone was calling it at The Wagon Wheel when the hubby and I went out
last night.”

“I can imagine. Something this
dramatic doesn’t happen all that often around here.”

“Every five years or so,” she said
confidently. “I remember five years ago, that Davidson woman was abducted by
her ex-husband. Do you remember that one, Katie?”

“My mother told me about it,” I
said. “I was living in Chicago at the time, so she—”

“Well, that’s right! You moved away
for…medical school or something.”

“Art school,” I said. “After that I
went to work for a private investigator.”

She nodded as I briefly explained
the past twelve years of my life. Then she asked if I thought Tipper was still
alive.

The question pierced the quiet with
a sliver of dread. “I certainly hope so. And that’s another reason I stopped by
today. Since I used to work as a PI, I know a couple of things about conducting
investigations. And if I talk to a few people on your street, maybe I can—”

“Well, don’t bother with Muriel
Gladwell! She just got back from Aruba last night. Went there with some young
gigolo who’s half her age.”

I smiled. “Thanks for the tip, Lila
Belle.”

“My money’s on the guy with the
pooping dog,” she announced. “I saw him lurking around after you went in the
back.”

“When I was delivering the
goodies?”

She shrugged. “Yum! I
love
the treats at your place.” A look of pure bliss crossed her face as she hummed
happily. “I obviously didn’t know what was in the boxes, but I figured that’s
what you were doing. I ran into Tipper three or four days ago. She told me that
you were whipping up something yummy for her party.”

“That’s sweet, thanks. Now…back to
the afternoon that I came by and Tipper went missing.”

Lila Belle picked up the wine
bottle, tipped it toward her glass and watched as the liquid splashed against
the plastic.

“Yes,” she said. “I was actually
watching for the mailman. He almost always comes around that time of the day, so
I was in the front room, just glancing up and down, trying to see his little
white van. And then I saw you. Wearing that cute jean jacket and those—what
were they? Maybe pale peach slacks?”

I nodded, marveling at her
attention to detail.

“Yes, okay. They were peach.” She
leaned forward and cupped one hand around her mouth. “I’m sorry to tell you
this, Katie. But they make your backside look as big as a barn.” She winked and
chuckled. “You may want to rethink that choice the next time you’re tempted to
wear those pants again. But maybe that’s what girls your age are going for; the
big caboose, jiggly rear, Jell-O shelf sort of—”

“Thank you, Lila Belle. But…the man
with the dog?”

“Oh, yes! Sorry about that. The man
with the pooping dog.” She sipped the wine. “Uh, let’s see. You went around
back. I’m guessing that’s because Tipper didn’t answer. And when you did that,
the man sort of hurried up, loaded the pooch in the backseat and hightailed it
out of Dodge.”

“So the guy with the dog drove Tipper’s
BMW away from her house?”

“Isn’t that what I just told you?”
Lila Belle asked, sounding a little pitiful.

“Sure thing. And that’s actually a
huge
help, so thank you! I don’t even know if the police are aware of that fact
yet.”

She furrowed her brow. “Well, of
course they are, Katie. I talked to that lovely Dina Kincaid last night when
she stopped by.”

I nodded. “That’s great, Lila
Belle. It’s important to tell them as much as you know. And I guess you’ve
already taken care of that.”

“Correct. I’m a good citizen,
Katie. I wanted to help in some way. It’s a terrible thing that’s happened. I
just hope they find that lunatic before he hurts Tipper.” She nipped from the
tumbler again. “And, before his dog can poop on anybody else’s driveway.”