Deadly Desserts (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 6) (7 page)

CHAPTER
15

Dina Kincaid stirred her coffee
with a ballpoint pen, dried the impromptu utensil with a napkin and plunked it
back into her desk drawer. Then she asked me to repeat the news that I’d just
delivered.

“His nickname is Danny Downer,” I
said. “But his real name is Thomas Green. He’s vice president at Crescent Creek
Bank.”

We were in her office about an hour
after I finished the conversation with Pinky Newton. I’d been waiting for
Portia to send me the picture of Lacy Orvane and Thomas Green. When it arrived
a few minutes after I talked to Portia, I decided to make a quick stop at
Dina’s office while I was in town taking care of some Sky High business.

“Really? I thought the VP was a guy
called…” She took a drink of the coffee, let it warm her throat and then put
down the cup. “Oh, what
is
his name? I think maybe I met him once at the
awful community service banquet that the mayor does every year.”

“The Golden Crescent Awards?”

She made a face. “Yes! The food is
exactly
like the frozen TV dinners my mother made us eat whenever she and my dad were going
out.”

I smiled at the memory. “And Tabby
Bishop was always your babysitter, right?”

“More like my tormentor! She was
so
mean. And she always smelled like eucalyptus.”

“Cough drops,” I said. “I suspect
she was addicted.”

“She was addicted alright—to being
cruel!”

We laughed for a few moments about
the childhood memories and then I pulled up the picture of Thomas Green and
Lacy on my phone.

“This is the guy,” I said, holding
it toward Dina. “The picture was taken when they were at Horsetooth Reservoir
for a bank picnic.”

She studied the image for a moment.
“Are you sure he works at the bank? I’ve never seen that guy before in my
life.”

I smiled. “I’m not making this up,
detective. Just reporting the facts.”

“Where’d you get the picture?”

“Portia Pearson had it. Lacy wanted
her to crop Danny…” I smirked at Dina. “…to crop Thomas Green out of the
picture and use it to accompany her bio in the festival’s promotional
materials.”

She studied the image again,
nodding and smiling. “So, what’s the deal? He’s white as a sheet. Does he have
some…I don’t know, aversion to the sun?”

“No clue. But you’re right; he’s
one pale bank VP alright.”

“Maybe we should bring him in for
questioning.” She took another sip of coffee and cringed. “Do you know what
this tastes like?”

“I’m afraid to guess.”

“Don’t be,” she said. “Whatever you
think would probably taste a whole lot better than this sludge.” She frowned
and leaned back in her chair. “Katie, Katie, Katie! I haven’t had a good
night’s sleep in forever! My feet are like two bruised nubs from racing around!
And my stomach feels like a high-speed washing machine on the spin cycle!”

“Well…” I didn’t know what to say
or which malady to address first. “I’m sorry to hear about all of that.”

“Thanks. I’m just—” She shook away
the complaint. “What was the guy’s name again?”

“Danny Downer?”

She groaned and shook her head. “The
real
one, please.”

“Thomas Green.”

“We should talk to him,” she said,
reaching for a pencil and notepad. “I’ll have Tyler do it tomorrow.”

“Probably a good idea,” I agreed.
“That’ll save you from scurrying around on your little stubs.”

“Nubs!” she squawked. “They’re nubs
and they’re throbbing like crazy!”

When she stopped, I didn’t say a
word.

“Sorry about that,” she said
eventually. “I’ll try to keep the outbursts to a minimum.”

“It’s okay. I get it.”

“Anyway, so…Nathaniel Craig?” She
furrowed her brow. “Your text earlier said that he told someone that all of the
food at Portia’s had been dosed with the cicutoxin. Is that correct?”

“That’s what he told Pinky’s sister,”
I answered. “Is it true?”

She nodded. “Unfortunately, it is.
The final report won’t be ready for a few days, but it seems that someone
injected cicutoxin into all of the competition entries at Portia’s yesterday.”

“So?” I said, leaning toward her
desk to take one of the caramels from a half-filled candy dish. “Why do you
think Nathaniel Craig would have that information?”

Dina sipped her coffee. I unwrapped
my caramel, popped it into my mouth and slipped the wrapper into my coat
pocket.

“I have no idea,” she said finally.
“Loose lips?”

“Meaning?”

“Somebody here may have shared the
information,” she said, sounding weary and defeated. “At this point, it seems
like anything really
is
possible, Katie. I’ve got a burglary case that’s
making my brain swell. Mamie Trugate’s sons are both accusing the other of
breaking in and stealing her jewelry while their mother was asleep.”

“Don’t they both have keys?”

She shook her head. “Mamie changed
the locks. I guess there are a few trust issues dangling from the Trugate
family tree.”

“Focus, detective,” I said gently. “Lacy
Orvane. Poison in the desserts and snacks. Nathaniel Craig.”

She took a deep breath and sat up
in her chair. “Right, yes. Lacy Orvane.” She pushed a few papers around on her
desk. “I’ve got notes here somewhere, but I suppose…” She looked up, fixing her
eyes on mine. “It’s possible, Katie. Somebody here might have accidentally let
slip that cicutoxin was found in all of the things you and the other judges
were getting ready to sample.”

“But that doesn’t sound like
anybody on the force,” I said. “Trent’s always telling me that everyone is
loyal and dedicated. He seems pretty convinced that nobody would divulge
evidence about an ongoing investigation to someone who wasn’t a member of the
inner circle.”

She smiled. “That’s just it,
though. Maybe someone thinks Nathaniel Craig
is
trustworthy. After all,
he’s a pillar of the community, right? A bank president, one of the most
successful civic leaders, the kind of guy you could trust with a secret.”

I nodded. “And there’s also the
fact that Lacy worked for him. Maybe he ran into Tyler Armstrong at the gun
range and that’s how Craig found out.”

Her mouth squirmed into a frown. “I
doubt that. Tyler isn’t much for the local range. He prefers the one up in Grand
Lake.”

She went back to rummaging through
the papers and folders on her desk. As she busied herself with the flotsam and
jetsam, I suddenly realized that Pinky Newton might be right; there was one
other way Nathaniel Craig would know all of the desserts and snacks had been
spiked with cicutoxin.

“Dina?”

She continued searching through the
things on her desk. “Yes?”

“If it wasn’t someone with the
department,” I said, waiting for her to look up, “or someone from the lab, I
don’t see how Nathaniel Craig would be privy to information about Lacy’s death.
Unless…”

When she finally glanced up, our
eyes met and I could tell she knew what I meant.

“Unless he did it,” I said.

CHAPTER
16

“After all,” I said as Dina
considered the possibility, “word on the street is that Lacy was having an
affair with Nathaniel Craig.”

“Did you really just say ‘word on
the street,’ Katie?”

“What? You’d prefer ‘the rumor
mill’ or ‘according to popular belief’ or—”

“Katie?”

“Detective?”

She laughed again; a bit lighter
and much more brisk. “It always makes me smile when you call me that.”

“Anyway, I know you’ve got a lot on
your plate,” I said. “I just wanted to share that with you.”

“Consider it shared.”

“And there’s one more thing.”

“Consider me listening.”

“Nathaniel Craig has been ordering
a dozen roses from Pinky Newton’s flower shop every week,” I said. “And guess
who they’re for?”

“Lacy Orvane?”

“Bingo!”

“Isn’t that pretty risky behavior?”

“I suppose,” I agreed. “But the
guy’s pretty full of himself. And you know how some people can be when they
achieve a certain level of success. They think they’re above the law, cut from
a different cloth, impervious to rules.”

She laughed again. “Impervious?”

“What can I say? I heard it on a
cooking show I was watching last night. They were making barbecue chicken and
discussing crossword puzzles.”

“Oh, doesn’t that sound good right
about now?”

“Barbecue?”

“To be honest,” she said, “anything
sounds good. I’m so tired of eating the junk in the vending machine.”

“I could run over to Smoky Joe’s and
get you some ribs or a pulled pork sandwich,” I offered.

“That’s okay, Katie. But thank you.
I’ll probably rummage around in the refrigerator in the break room. Maybe I can
pilfer somebody’s leftovers.”

“I’m shocked! An officer of the law
committing a crime inside the police station?”

She didn’t say anything. So I
apologized for the joke and waited.

“Dina?” I said after another few
moments of silence. “Are you still with me?”

“I’m, uh…”

I waited, watching her shuffle
papers on her desk.

“Sorry, Katie,” she said finally.
“I’m trying to find the summary report that I received earlier from Ted
Caldwell.”

I’d never heard the name, so I
asked about the guy.

“Oh, Ted? He’s great; just joined
us as a forensics tech.”

“And what do his notes say?”

“It’s a recap of all the evidence
we’ve collected so far,” Dina answered. “From inside Portia’s furniture store,
the alley out back and the security cameras in the vicinity.”

“Anything you can share?”

She cleared her throat. “Well, you
know this is all confidential, right?”

“As always,” I said. “And you know
I’ll be judicious.”

“I know that, Katie. I just feel
like we need to have that little exchange whenever we’re working a case
together.”

I smiled at the remark; Dina
respected my experience as a private investigator and I valued her expertise as
one of the best detectives that I’d ever met. After returning to Crescent Creek
from Chicago, I’d been involved on the periphery of a handful of local
investigations. Since the Lacy Orvane case was new and we hadn’t discussed it
all that much, I was flattered that Dina had used the reference—
working a
case together
—even though I hadn’t had much involvement.

“Okay, I agree. And now that we’ve
had that little chat, what does Ted Caldwell’s report say?”

“Well, there are a couple of
very
interesting things,” she said. “The search of the alley found a paper bag
stashed behind a steel barrel near the back entrance to Sherman’s Sporting
Goods. And, here’s the most intriguing part of Ted’s report—the paper bag
contained three used syringes, a glass vial partially filled with clear liquid,
a deposit slip from Crescent Creek Bank and a plastic carryout container from
Drake’s Deli.”

From the sly sound of her voice, I
could tell she was withholding one more spicy detail. “Okay, detective,” I said.
“There’s a card up your sleeve.”

She chuckled. “Me?”

“Yep. What gives?”

“The plastic deli container,” she
said. “It’s got yesterday’s date on it along with a set of fingerprints, the
initials
NC
and the remnants of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

“NC?”

Dina nodded. “With the bank slip
included, I was thinking it might be Nathaniel Craig,” she said. “Tyler
Armstrong checked with Colin Drake at the deli. Craig’s a real creature of
habit. He goes there almost every day to buy the same thing for lunch—a peanut
butter and jelly sandwich.”

“Do you think it’s a smoking gun?”
I asked. “All tied up with a pretty bow.”

She shrugged. “Either than or a
diversion. We ran the prints, but they’re not in the system.”

“Seems pretty tidy, doesn’t it?” I said.
“Craig’s initials, yesterday’s date, the carryout container from a place across
the street from the bank.”

“Like I said, a diversion,” Dina
repeated. “Or a really clumsy murderer.”

We locked eyes for a moment; we’d
both seen our share of inept criminals who think they’ve covered their tracks
while leaving a trail of breadcrumbs right back to their doorstep.

“What about the deposit slip?” I
said. “Was it blank or had it been used?”

“The front was blank,” Dina said.
“But Daphne Wright’s phone number was written on the back along with a note
that said: ‘Call her at noon; deliver the message.’”

“That’s interesting. Did you ask
her about it?”

Dina nodded. “She told me that her
desk phone rang yesterday morning just as the delivery van left. She hurried
back to answer it, but the caller hung up just as she said hello.”

“And that’s why she forgot to lock
the backdoor to the furniture store?”

“Possibly,” Dina said with a shrug.
“I didn’t get very far with her. She feels guilty that the person who poisoned
Lacy probably came in through the unlocked door. I had a few more questions,
but the poor thing started sobbing so hysterically that I told her we’d try
again tomorrow.”

“Sounds reasonable. Daphne’s not
Einstein or anything, but she’s a real sweetheart. I can’t see her being
involved in this.”

“I’d have to agree,” Dina said.
“But we need to cover all the angles.”

“Sure, of course. What about the
security cameras in the alley? Anything helpful?”

“There’s a good chance we have
footage of a possible suspect,” she answered. “He’s carrying a paper bag when
he slips into the store through the delivery door a couple of hours before Lacy
was poisoned. It coincides with the period of time that the entrance was left
unlocked.”

“What’s the description?” I asked.

She answered with a succinct
report: baseball cap, jacket with a sailboat emblem on the front, handlebar
mustache, gold pinky ring and sunglasses.

“Sounds fairly distinctive,” I
suggested.

“I suppose…well, maybe. We’ve got a
BOLO out with that description. Nothing so far.”

“The day is young,” I said
optimistically.

“Wish I was,” she grumbled.

“Oh, c’mon, detective. You’re only
as old as you feel.”

She groaned and sighed. “Well, at
this moment, I feel two-hundred and five,” she said. “Give or take a decade or
two.”