Deadly Desserts (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 6) (15 page)

CHAPTER
34

Blanche Speltzer was in the shampoo
aisle at CVS when I came around the corner searching for the next item on my
list. After shopping at Food Town, I’d decided to make one more quick stop
before heading home to get dinner started.

“Isn’t this something?” Blanche
purred. “I was just thinking about you.”

I pointed at the tidy rows of
multicolored bottles. “Because I’m always as crisp and organized as these
shelves?”

Her mouth wriggled into a bemused
frown. “No, Katie. That’s not why. When was the last time anyone used ‘crisp
and organized’ to describe you?”

I thought for a second or two. “Sixth
grade? I have a fuzzy memory of Miss Warner praising my penmanship on an essay
I wrote about—”

“So, anyway,” Blanche interrupted,
rolling her eyes for emphasis. “You came to mind because I was thinking about
Lacy Orvane.”

The sudden shift in subject matter
triggered a rush of images in my mind: Lacy on the floor, struggling to
breathe; Dina questioning everyone in the conference room at Portia’s furniture
store; Thomas Green explaining that—

A hand tugged at my sleeve.

“Earth to Katie!” Blanche smiled.
“Where’d you go?”

“Sorry, Blanche. I was just
thinking about Lacy.”

She reached up to pat my shoulder.
“Oh, I know, I know. Such a sad, sad thing.”

We stood in the middle of the
aisle, sharing a solemn moment of silence. When a man in another part of the
store yelped loudly about his Powerball numbers, Blanche took her hand from my
shoulder and grumbled about people forgetting to use their indoor voices when
they were in a public place.

“It’s like all decorum and respect
have just flown the coop,” she muttered. “People shriek like mad hens no matter
where they are.”

“I know,” I said, lowering my
voice. “I’m probably guilty of doing that from time to time.”

She winked at me. “Well, since you
mentioned it, I’ll have to agree. I was in Tipton’s one day not too long ago,
buying a little hooch for my bridge club, and I heard you yapping about your
brother and his girlfriend.”

I blushed. “Oh, really? That was a
couple of weeks ago. Brody and…” I paused when I saw the sneaky grin on her
face. “Oh, no you don’t! You just want me to tell you what was going on because
you didn’t hear everything that I told Bev and Lorraine.”

Blanche winked again. “You’re too
smart for your own good, Katie. I remember what a hellcat your brother was when
he was my student. I haven’t heard you talk about him much lately, so…” She
tilted closer and glanced around. “…now that it’s just the two of us, why not
indulge an old woman and tell her what that little devil is up to these days?”

I smiled. “For starters, ‘that
little devil’ is a grown man. And for another, it wasn’t anything bad. His
girlfriend got a huge promotion at the television station in San Diego. She’s
now anchor for the prime time news.”

Blanche frowned. “That’s all?”

I nodded.

“No scandal?” she asked. “No shame
and disgrace?”

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Katie. I’m
actually glad for your brother.”

“Because his girlfriend got a big
promotion?”

She giggled. “No, because he
has
a girlfriend. I remember when he was a senior and Marti Nelson broke his heart.
He moped around school like a lost puppy for the longest time.”

“Yeah, that was pretty horrible.
But he’s bounced back nicely. He’s got a great job. He’s doing a lot of
volunteer work. And he’s in love with a wonderful woman.”

She smiled, but it quickly faded.
“Okay, so what’s going on with your investigation?”

“My what?”

She smirked. “Don’t play coy,
Katie. I’m talking about Lacy Orvane.”

“It’s not my investigation,” I
said. “I’m just doing a little snooping around to help Dina Kincaid.”

Blanche’s eyes twirled in a circle.
“Yeah, sure. That’s the party line. I get it, Katie. But I know you’re still
passionate about solving crimes. After all those years as a private
investigator, I think it would be next to impossible to just stop using that
part of your brain.”

“You’re right. And it is. But
Dina’s conducting the official inquiry. I’m just…well, you know. As you said,
I’m just using that part of my brain to try and look at things from a different
perspective.”

She laughed again. “And what do you
see from that different vantage point?”

“I’ve got a couple of hunches.”

She leaned in. “Go on, dear. I’m
listening.”

“I can’t say anything at this
point, Blanche. I wouldn’t want to falsely accuse someone or cast aspersions.”

She scoffed. “Oh, why not? Cast
away! Spill the beans! Go for broke!”

“I know you’re curious,” I said.
“But I really shouldn’t say anything. Out of respect for Lacy. And the process
of identifying the person responsible for her death.”

The bemused smirk on her face
softened. “Well, curiosity doesn’t mean I don’t respect Lacy. She was a
sweetheart, wasn’t she now? A really kind and gentle young woman who lost her
way.”

I asked Blanche to explain the
pointed remark.

“What’s to explain?” she asked.
“You lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas.”

I winced. “I’m actually surprised
to hear you say that, Blanche. One minute, you’re describing Lacy as a
sweetheart. And in the very next breath, you’re judging her for…for what?
Having an affair?”

Between my words and the slight
edge in my voice, I could tell that I’d struck a nerve. Blanche’s gaze flashed
with disapproval for a brief moment. Then she calmly announced that she wasn’t
being judgmental.

“Then what do you call it?” I
asked.

She raised one eyebrow. “Being
honest, Katie. Everyone in town knew that Lacy broke up with Ron because he
wasn’t ambitious enough for her. And because he’d never earn enough to satisfy
her expensive tastes.” She paused, lifting one hand to her chin. “And before
you accuse me again of being judgmental, none of what I’m saying would surprise
Lacy one little bit. She and I talked about this quite a few times.”

“You did?”

Blanche nodded. “Yes, we did. I may
be an eighty-year-old widowed relic, but Lacy and I got together for tea every
so often. We really connected when she was my student. I don’t know if you
remember or not, but she was deeply troubled when her parents divorced during
her sophomore year. I became an unofficial counselor for her, a sounding board
whenever she needed help unraveling her emotions. During the past few weeks, we
talked about her affair on more than one occasion, although I never asked for
the man’s name or anything that might identify him.”

“Sounds pretty tactful,” I
suggested. “And very, very kind of you to listen.”

“Oh, I listened alright. But I also
talked. I advised her to end the dalliance. A man like that is nothing but a
skunk in disguise, Katie.”

“Meaning?”

She shrugged. “Meaning any number
of things. If he thinks you might tell his wife? He makes a stink. If you show
up at his place of business without an invitation? He makes a stink. If you
threaten to tell anyone about the affair? He—”

“I get it,” I said. “He makes a
stink. Do you think that’s why he poisoned Lacy?”

Blanche smiled. “Who said it was
him?” she asked. “Unless you’re telling me that your investigation is pointing
at the man she was involved with.”

“No, no. That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, it’s essentially what you
said, dear. And, to be honest, Lacy never gave me any impression the man could be
violent. It sounded like things were hunky-dory. I mean, as hunky-dory as they
can be when you’re carrying on with a married man. At least, they were until
Lacy asked him to leave his wife.”

“You and she talked about that?”

Blanche nodded. “It’s like I told
you, Katie. We talked a lot about her troubles. She was really struggling with
the whole idea of having an affair. I think she got in way over her head
because she didn’t know what to do about Ron. The affair was more like a
diversion for her, you know? Something to take her mind off other things. Not
that I condone what she did; sin is sin, no matter how much lipstick you put on
it.”

“I never knew that you and Lacy
were so close, Blanche.” I felt my heart expand with the thought of the sassy
retired history teacher comforting Lacy during their conversations. “That’s so
sweet of you!”

She shrugged off the compliment.
“I’ve had the same conversation more than once in my life,” Blanche said.
“Plenty of single women get involved with married men. I don’t exactly
understand the phenomenon, but I know of quite a few right here in Crescent
Creek.”

“Quite a few?” I asked in
disbelief. “You mean, now? Or are you talking about back in the old days?”

She smiled. “Now
and
then,”
Blanche said with a sly wink. “Some you know, others you don’t.”

“And we’re talking about someone
besides Lacy?”

She nodded.

“How many?”

She grinned again. “I can’t divulge
all of their identities, but I will give you one name.”

“Why only one?”

“Because I’ve heard some things
around town,” Blanche said, moving closer and lowering her voice. “I’ve also
seen a few things, too. And I’m starting to suspect she might be involved with
what happened to our dear friend Lacy.”

CHAPTER
35

“I got your message,” Zack said,
coming through the front door of my apartment that night. “But I have a couple
of questions first.”

I put down the can of red beans
that I was getting ready to rinse. We’d decided on chili for a quick and easy
meal to accompany an old Humphrey Bogart movie.

“Yes,” I said. “And
absolutely
yes.”

He smiled, shifting the messenger
bag on his shoulder. “What’re you talking about?”

I gave him a kiss. “You said you
had questions. I was answering in advance.”

He put the bag on the counter
before pulling me close. We shared another warm, prolonged kiss before he
whispered in my ear.

“What did you think I was going to
ask?”

“If I loved you. And if I’m fixing
cornbread to go with the chili.”

His laugh went straight through me.
“You, Kate Reed, are an amazing woman. But you cannot read minds at all.”

After he’d pulled his laptop out of
the messenger bag and walked into the living room, I went back to work on the
chili. He joined me a few minutes later, smelling of soap and mouthwash.

“Okay, chef. Put me to work!”

“I’ve got this,” I said, nodding
across the room at an unopened bottle of wine. “But do you mind pouring us a
glass of merlot?”

“Can do.” He rummaged in the drawer
for a bottle opener. “And, may I say, that chili smells
incredible
!”

“I hope so. It’s my mother’s
recipe.”

While he took care of the wine, I
added the beans to the pot and lowered the flame. The kitchen was filled with a
spicy aroma that always reminded me of long ago family dinners. My sister,
brother and I always pitched in, chopping onions, opening cans and browning the
ground beef while my mother made cornbread from scratch. Sometimes it was
plain, on other occasions it would be enhanced with diced jalapeño peppers and
big chunks of cheddar cheese.

“Okay, Kate,” Zack said, filling
two glasses with the red wine. “Why’d you ask me to bring the laptop?”

“I need you to work your Photoshop
magic,” I answered. “It’s for the Lacy Orvane case.”

He handed one glass to me, we
touched rims and then took a first sip.

“That’s awesome, babe! Is it from
Tipton’s?”

I nodded. “Another Liquor Mart
bargain! It was marked down to six bucks.”

He raised the glass and drank more
wine. “Money well spent, gorgeous.”

“I’m glad you like it!” I checked
the flame under the chili, lowered it a bit more and then suggested we adjourn
to the living room while our dinner simmered.

“Adjourn?” Zack laughed.

I smirked at his silly grin and
grabbed his hand. Once we were situated on the sofa, I explained my idea about
using Photoshop to create a few composite images that I could show to Colin
Drake.

“Okay, hang on a sec,” Zack said
when I finished. “You think someone in a Halloween costume bought a sandwich at
the deli to try and frame Nathaniel Craig?”

I reached for my wine. “I didn’t
say anything about Halloween?”

He shrugged. “Might as well have.”

“It’s more like…” My mind filtered
through the options. “…like camouflage,” I said. “They dressed in a fake
mustache, sailing jacket, baseball cap and sunglasses to try and hoodwink
Colin.”

“Into what? Thinking they were
someone else buying lunch for the bank president?”

“Exactly!”

“So that they could make the police
believe that Nathaniel Craig poisoned Lacy?”

I leaned over and planted a big
kiss on his cheek. “Now you’re speaking my language, handsome!”

He sighed and shook his head. “I’ll
be happy to Photoshop a few pictures, Kate. But doesn’t the PD have computer
techs that could handle this?”

“Of course, but I want to explore
my hunch before I share it with Dina.”

“Is that code for get involved with
something dangerous?”

“No way,” I answered with a laugh.
“I’ve got all the danger I can handle right here with you.”

He put down his wine and moved
closer. “And now, Miss Kate Reed, you’re speaking
my
language!”

CHAPTER
36

The next afternoon, when the lunch
traffic had thinned to a trickle and the bookkeeping was sufficiently under
control, I asked Julia if she could manage the rest of the Sky High day without
me.

“On one condition,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“You explain how you burned the
chili last night?”

I frowned slightly. “How do you
know about that?”

She pointed her whisk at the sink
on the other side of the kitchen. “I saw the evidence,” she said. “That pot is
normally upstairs in your apartment. And the crusty gunk in the bottom
definitely looks like scorched chili.”

“How can you be so sure?”

She smiled. “Despite my sterling
reputation as the chef of this fine bakery café,” she said, “I’ve burned my
share of things before.”

“Including chili?”

“Yep, including chili. So? What’s
the story with the burned pan?”

I giggled and blushed. “I really
don’t think…” One hand covered my mouth as the silly snicker erupted into a
full laugh. “Maybe another day,” I said eventually. “Until then, I’m going to
run a couple of errands, okay?”

She winked, gave me a pat on the
rear and told me to drive safely.

“Don’t I always?” I asked going out
the backdoor and heading for my car.

I’d just climbed behind the wheel
when Dina called. I considered letting it go to voicemail, but then figured it
would be best to see what she needed before I left the Sky High parking lot.

“What are you up to?” she asked.

“Following a couple of hunches.”

She asked for details.

“I’m on my way to see Colin Drake,”
I explained. “And then Brewster McCoy.”

She snickered. “Getting a tattoo,
huh?”

“No, just following up on
something. If my hunch is right, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Think you can meet me in an hour
or so?” she asked. “Maybe at Java & Juice?”

“Sure, I can do that. Is everything
okay?”

“More or less. I’ll tell you when I
see you.”

I thought about Dina’s mysterious
request as I drove across town to Drake’s Deli. I suspected it was related to
Lacy’s death, but I couldn’t decide what she wanted to discuss. After parking
in front of the sandwich shop, I laughed again when I saw the neon sign in the
front window. It had changed slightly since my last visit:
OPEN TIL  ID
IGHT!

When I pushed through the door a
few seconds later, Colin was behind the counter finishing up with a man dressed
in running tights, a puffy jacket and sleek orange sneakers. I’d seen the guy
around town a few times, but didn’t know his name. I took a seat at one of the
tables near the register to wait.

“Twice in one week,” Colin said
after the runner left with his sandwich. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“To be honest, I wanted to ask you
about something. Although, it’s always nice to get away from Sky High and see
another local entrepreneur in action.”

He grinned. “You mean delivering
exemplary customer service? And amazing local residents and tourists with the
best sandwiches in the state?”

“Something like that. Your
reputation around town is pretty much flawless, Colin. We both know that can be
a tough thing to achieve in our line of work.”

“On account of the customer is
always right?” he said. “Even when they’re not?”

I chuckled again, got up from the
chair and walked to the counter.

“Can I show you a few pictures?”

“Long as they’re decent,” he joked.

I found my phone, scrolled through
the saved images and enlarged the three composites that Zack had created the
night before. When I showed Colin the first photo, he did a double take.

“Wow, Katie! How’d you get him to
pose for that?”

“Is this the guy that came in and
bought lunch for Nathaniel Craig the day Lacy was poisoned?”

Colin nodded. “Yes, that’s him! And
it’s weird, right? Crescent Creek is the size of a shoebox, give or take. And
most folks know everyone else. But I’d never seen that guy until he came in the
other day. And now, just like you, I’m seeing him twice in one week!”

“I guess you’re just a lucky man,”
I said, slipping the phone back into my jacket. “The stars must be aligned in
your favor.”

“You think so?” he said, rubbing
his chin with one hand. “Then maybe I should buy a Powerball ticket! Saturday’s
drawing is just above a hundred million.”

“Definitely,” I said, turning for
the door. “And don’t forgot the little people here in Crescent Creek when you
hit the jackpot!”

A gust of freezing wind swirled
around me as I stepped onto the sidewalk, turned the corner and headed for the
black awning flapping in the distance. As Crescent Creek’s only tattoo parlor,
Automatic Tat was popular with teenagers, hipsters and middle-aged adventurers
hoping that a discreet heart inked onto their backside would somehow forestall
the arrival of their AARP card.

“Kate Reed!”

I heard the voice before I saw the
source: a rumpled Jerry Garcia look-alike named Brewster McCoy. He was leaning
against the counter on the far side of the room wearing Birkenstocks, faded
jeans and a white Colorado Railroad Museum T-shirt that was speckled with drops
of black, blue and red ink.

“Hey, Brewster! How’s your day
going?”

An old Rolling Stones song buzzed
in the background and frail tendrils of smoke curled toward the tin ceiling
from a slender stick of incense burning near the cash register.

“Day’s going,” he said, pushing his
glasses back up his nose with one knuckle. “What’s happening in your world, Pie
Lady?”

The first time he used the silly
soubriquet, I asked him to stick with my given name. By the hundredth
reiteration, delivered during one of his regular visits to Sky High, I decided
to accept the fact that Brewster McCoy was as fond of bestowing silly nicknames
on people as he was the bright red Diablo tattoo machine in his shop.

“Same stuff,” I said. “Different
day.”

“I know how that goes,” Brewster
said, taking a sip from a red plastic cup. “I’m enjoying a little Wild Turkey
and Gatorade. You in the mood? I like to unwind after the last tat of the day.”

I shook my head. “I’m just here for
a quick question, but thanks.”

He raised his cup and drank more of
the heady potion. “What can Brewster help you with, Pie Lady?”

“Have you ever inked the word
‘love’ on the inside of someone’s wrist?”

He nodded. “Once, yeah. Although I
did a ton of those back when I was in Oakland.”

“I’m talking about here in Crescent
Creek.”

“Okay, yeah. That’s why I said I
did it once.”

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t quite follow
you.”

“Very few women do,” he said.
“Thus, the Brewster flies solo.”

He took another drink, wiped his
mouth on the back of one hand and put the cup on the counter.

“Can you tell me who asked for that
tattoo?”

“No can do,” he said with a slight
frown. “I don’t ink and tell, okay? And most people like their privacy.”

“Was it a man?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Care to
guess again?”

“That’s okay,” I said, smiling at
his wry expression. “Can we talk about the woman in general terms?”

“Maybe,” he said. “If she was in
the military.”

It took me a second to make the
connection, but I chuckled and asked if the customer had been fully satisfied
with the results.

“Can you say that again?” asked
Brewster.

When I repeated the question, he
walked behind the counter, came out with a half-filled bottle of Wild Turkey
and poured more of the Kentucky bourbon into his cup. After he took a long,
slow sip, he put the cup on the glass countertop and folded both arms across
his barrel chest.

“I needed another nip before
answering your question,” he said. “And, to be honest, I’m a wee bit offended
that you even asked.”

“Oh, my goodness! I didn’t mean to
offend you, Brewster.”

“No harm, no foul, Pie Lady. It’s
just I thought you knew my slogans.”

He pointed to the signs on the wall
just inside the front door: WHAT HAPPENS AT AUTOMATIC TAT, STAYS AT AUTOMATIC
TAT and 100% SATISFACTION GUARANTEED OR ELSE.

“I stand corrected,” I said. “And,
I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

He smiled, revealing uneven rows of
coffee-stained teeth. “It’s all good, Pie Lady.”

While he sipped more of his adult
beverage, I considered another approach. I had a hunch about that the owner of
the
love
tattoo was involved in Lacy Orvane’s death. And my list of
suspects was only two names long. I needed something to try and determine which
of the two women had played a role in poisoning my friend.

“One more question?” I said when
Brewster finished his drink.

He nodded. “If you’re going to ask
me out on a date,” he said, “the answer is ‘Oh, hell yes!’”

I laughed and told him about Zack.
Then I asked if he could give me one clue to the customer’s identity.

“What kind of hint?”

“Well, if you can’t tell me her
name, would you at least give me a clue about what she does for a living?”

He thought for a moment or two.
Then he smiled and said, “I don’t see any problem. I wouldn’t be violating my
store rules if I told you that her business helps people make their apartments,
homes and offices look better.”