Red Velvet, Dead Velvet (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 3)

by Mary Maxwell

I was surprised to hear the name, but simply smiled and nodded. There was no need to tell Viva that I’d met him earlier in the day at Sky High.

  “No, I’m sorry, miss,” she continued. “He’s gone out for the rest of the day. Told me he had business in town. I think it’s got something to do with his sister.”

  “His sister?”

  “Yes,” Viva said. “I call her ‘the girl with the gloomy face’ because she paints herself with so much dark makeup.”

  “And she’s Mr. Summerfield’s sister?”

  Viva flashed another lustrous smile. “Yes, Miss Kate. Brother and sister. They’re so very different from one another, but you can tell there’s a strong bond between them. And that’s even with the shouting and stomping of feet.”

  “Did you witness the argument in the parking lot?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you know what they were fighting about?”

  “What most people do,” Viva said. “Money.”

  “Money as in…paying for their motel rooms?” I asked. “Or money as in—”

  “As in millions of dollars from their father’s last will and testament,” she said. “And I’m sorry to be rude, but we’re completely full and I have six more rooms to clean before four o’clock.”

  “Of course, sure,” I said. “I’m sorry to keep you.”

  She reached out and pinched my cheek. “No worries,” she said. “And no tears. It was so nice to see you. Maybe one weekend soon I’ll bring the family in for a special breakfast.”

  “I hope so,” I said as she grabbed a spray bottle on the cleaning cart. “In the meantime, take good care of yourself, Viva!”

  CHAPTER 12

  When I got back to Sky High Pies from the Moonlight Motel, Julia and Harper had left for the day. I had an hour to myself before I needed to shower and dress for dinner with Zack. I went into the office, dropped into my desk chair and gazed at my reflection in Nana Reed’s much-loved sterling silver letter opener. She’d splurged on it when she first opened the bakery café, and left it behind when she retired. Besides her hand-written recipe cards and frayed blue aprons, the Tiffany & Co. desk accessory was one of my most treasured possessions.

  “Power nap?” I asked my slightly blurred mirror image. “Or a bit of sleuthing?”

  A nap sounded good, but I was afraid that I might sleep through the alarm. There was no way I’d risk being late for dinner with the most handsome photographer in Crescent Creek. I decided to go upstairs to my apartment and spend a few minutes organizing my thoughts about the Walter Shipp situation. I quickly grabbed the envelope that Ivy found at the library, zipped up the back stairs and settled onto the sofa in my living room.

  Alright then, I thought. What do we know so far? Ivy found a collection of curious items at the library.

  I opened the envelope and arranged everything on the coffee table. I read the threatening letter again and studied the homemade map of Crescent Creek.

  Okay, we know that someone was apparently targeting Walter Shipp for events that happened in the past. I pulled out the newspaper clipping with the headline Banker Dies During Upstate Hiking Trip. As I started to read the first paragraph of the article, a name leapt out from the page: Charles Summerfield.

  “Another dot to connect,” I whispered.

  I quickly skimmed the story until I found two more familiar names: Mr. Summerfield is survived by his children, Nigel and Annabeth, both of New York City. When reached for comment at his Manhattan office, Nigel Summerfield said, “My father was an avid hiker with—

  The phone trilled in my purse. I’d left it in the kitchen as I came through the door.

  “I’m not home right now,” I moaned.

  But then I suddenly wondered if it was Zack calling about dinner, so I jumped up, dashed across the room and saw my mother’s name on the screen.

  “Now I’m definitely not home,” I joked, tapping the phone to accept the call.

  “Hi, sweetie!” My mother sounded as fizzy and dynamic as always. “How’s my girl?”

  “I’m good,” I said, returning to the sofa. “How’s everything in Florida?”

  I plopped down and pressed into the pillows.

  “Oh, it’s totally beachy!” My mother had started using the slightly annoying phrase on a regular basis. “Your father’s down at the pool talking to one of our neighbors about football.”

  “Sounds like he’s a happy camper then, right?”

  “Very happy. I figured I’d come up to the condo and check in with you. Is everything ready for tomorrow?”

  I’d been expecting the call about the book fair, so I gave my mother a quick summary of preparations and plans.

  “And your sister’s coming from Denver to help?”

  “Yes, mom. Liv said she’ll be here by seven so we can get all of the samples and flyers and decorations ready.”

  “Don’t use helium balloons, sweetie. Your father and I did that a couple of years ago, but one of the Wheeler kids popped a few with a thumbtack and Candace Fulbright almost had a heart attack.”

  “Well, we’re not using any balloons,” I said. “We’ve got a big banner and a few strings of these really cute novelty lights shaped like slices of pie.”

  The line was silent.

  “Mom?”

  “I’m here.”

  “You didn’t say anything.”

  “Well, I just…” She sighed and made the hmmmmm sound I knew so well from my childhood. “It sounds a little kitschy for my taste, dear. But you’re in charge now; you can make whatever choices you want.”

  I gritted my teeth as she shared a few more maternal tidbits of wisdom. When she finished, I told her that I had to get off the phone.

  “Time for your big date?” she asked.

  “How’d you know about that?”

  She snickered. “I may not live in Crescent Creek any more, sweetie. But I’ve got my finger on the pulse.”

  “Did Blanche call you?”

  “No, Kate.”

  “Was it Honey Keck?”

  “It doesn’t matter who told me, sweetie. I just think it’s wonderful that you’re finally getting out to have some fun for a change.”

  “Mom! I get out. Zack and I have had coffee a few times. I went to Boulder one night with my neighbor for a concert. And Liv invited me to Denver for—”

  “Sweetie?”

  “Yes, mom?”

  “I just want you to be sure and keep a little balance in your life. Don’t let Sky High become your entire world. There’s always time for fun.”

  I took a breath. Then I thanked my mother for the sage advice.

  “Oh, you’re welcome, sweetie. That’s what mothers are for!”

  Before I could think of something to say, I heard the call waiting tone and checked the screen. It was my sister, calling from her office.

  “Hey, mom? Olivia’s on the other line. I should probably talk to her in case it’s about tomorrow.”

  “Tell your sister hello from me,” my mother said. “And tell her that new picture on her Facebook page shows a little too much cleavage.”

  “Great idea! I love you, mom!” I clicked over to my sister. “Are you there, Liv?”

  “Hey! How’s it going?”

  “Mom said she loves the new picture you posted on Facebook,” I said with a mischievous grin.

  “She does?” My sister sounded skeptical. “I thought she’d think it showed too much—”

  “You’re right,” I said. “She did. I was just being bad.”

  “Ah, Kate!” Olivia groaned. “That’s not funny! I think it’s a great picture. So does my husband. I guess mom can just get over it.” She paused. “What do you think?”

  “I haven’t seen it yet. I’ve been kind of swamped.”

  “Is everything ready for tomorrow?”

  “Fingers crossed. Julia’s dropping off the Sky High samples at the Civic Center on her way to work in the morning.”

  “Jeez,” Liv gushed. “Does that wom
an ever sleep?”

  “Nope. She’s a modern miracle, just totally incredible and dedicated. I’m so unbelievably lucky to have her.”

  “No kidding,” Liv said. “Thank goodness she decided to stay on when mom and dad bailed.”

  “They didn’t bail. They retired.”

  “Six of one,” my sister said. “Are you still going to dinner with Zack tonight?”

  “Does a chicken lay eggs?”

  She ignored my lame joke and asked what I planned to wear.

  I laughed. “Probably the dress I bought last week or a new sweater and slacks that I found this afternoon.”

  “Just remember our dear mother’s words of wisdom.”

  “Which ones?”

  Olivia chuckled. “I believe it went something like this,” she said. “‘Relationships come and go, but your family is forever.’”

  “I doubt if I’ll be thinking about you guys when I’m sitting across from Zack tonight.”

  “Just have fun,” my sister said. “I can’t wait to hear all about it tomorrow!”

  CHAPTER 13

  The dining room at Luigi’s Ristorante in downtown Crescent Creek buzzed with conversation and laughter as Zack and I enjoyed our entrées. He’d ordered the Chicken Saltimbocca; I decided to try the Shrimp Fra Diablo, regretting the choice almost immediately when I realized how much garlic it contained. When Zack asked me to dinner, he said I could pick the restaurant. Since Luigi’s had opened recently to rave reviews, he’d readily agreed.

  “Did you know that Blanche is telling everyone she’s responsible for us meeting one another?” Zack asked as he poured more cabernet sauvignon into my glass.

  I frowned slightly. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope,” he said, gently resting the bottle on the table. “I ran into her at CVS the other day. I told her that we probably didn’t need her matchmaking service after all. She gave me one of her sly smiles before claiming credit for the fact that we met.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Exactly?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, I don’t think I can quote her word-for-word,” Zack said. “But it was basically how we should count our blessings that such a gifted and visionary matchmaker had selected the two of us to be her first clients.”

  I giggled as Zack’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “And she told me that if our first child is a girl,” he continued, “we should consider naming her Blanche.”

  I didn’t have a snappy comeback for the surprising remark, so I took a quick sip of wine and held his gaze. When we first met, Zack was simply the photographer assigned to take my picture for the Crescent Creek Gazette. We’d both flirted that day since the attraction was mutual and instant, but it had taken an eternity to actually have our first dinner date. Between his travel schedule as an in-demand freelance photographer and my responsibilities at Sky High, we’d scheduled and canceled plans more often than I could remember. I was thinking about the moment we met when I realized Zack was still talking about Blanche Speltzer.

  “So?” he said. “What do you think?”

  “Sorry,” I said clumsily. “I was sort of daydreaming.”

  “About our first child?”

  I blinked. “Our first what?”

  Zack’s energetic laugh filled the air. “Relax, Katie. I didn’t say that I agreed with her.”

  “And she was really discussing you and I having children?”

  He nodded. “Yep. Talk about no pressure, right?”

  “Well, that sounds like Blanche. She can be pretty full of herself sometimes.”

  “Sometimes?” Zack joked. “She’s the most confident person that I’ve ever met. And for her age…” He grinned. “I mean, what is she—a hundred and fifty?”

  “She’s eighty,” I said. “Going on six. She can throw a tantrum better than most children.”

  “Ah, she’s actually pretty harmless.”

  “I know,” I agreed. “She’s a genuine sweetheart; thoughtful and considerate and full of wisdom.”

  “And she’s fun to tease, too.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I just gave her some grief about such a hot single woman running a matchmaking service.”

  “Who said she’s single?”

  His eyes went wide with surprise. “Oh! I didn’t know she’s seeing anyone.”

  “Blanche is always seeing someone,” I replied. “She just keeps her romantic life off the grid for the most part these days.”

  I could see that another question was on the tip of Zack’s tongue, but Luigi Benedetto, the restaurant’s namesake and award-winning chef, chose that moment to stop by our table.

  “Good evening!” he said in a rich, booming tenor. “How is everything tonight?”

  “It’s delicious!” I exclaimed. “Congratulations on your successful opening!”

  “You’re too kind,” he said bashfully. “I’m just grateful for the support from everyone here in this lovely community. When my wife suggested we come to Crescent Creek to open our new restaurant, I was a little hesitant. But it’s all working out like a dream!”

  “Where were you before?” Zack asked.

  “Phoenix,” Luigi said, his eyes clouding slightly. “Thirty-two years my family’s restaurant was in the same location.”

  Zack nodded. “How’d you end up in Colorado?”

  “Because my wife had never seen snow!” Luigi said. “The landlord in Arizona increased our lease to such an astronomical sum that we couldn’t afford to carry on. We thought about finding a new location there, but then my Gia said she—”

  My phone suddenly whirred in my purse.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  Luigi chuckled. “No apologies necessary! I’ll finish my story the next time you lovebirds are in for a meal!”

  As the animated restaurateur moved to the next table, I glanced at Zack. “I hate to do this,” I said, retrieving the buzzing phone. “But it could be something about the book fair tomorrow.”

  Zack smiled and reached for his wine. “Go for it,” he said. “I’ll be right here when you finish.”

  When I saw Crescent Creek PD, I tapped the screen and answered the call.

  “Katie?” I instantly recognized Trent’s voice. “I’m so glad you picked up. I’m using someone else’s phone, so I wasn’t sure you would.”

  “Deputy Chief Walsh!” I said cheerfully. “How lovely to hear from—”

  “It’s work, Kate,” he announced abruptly. “I’m not calling to chitchat.”

  There was something in his tone, a faint nuance of alarm, that instantly confirmed it wasn’t a social call.

  “Are you okay, Trent?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “And I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, but…” Although the pause was brief, my mind crashed quickly from one terrible scenario to the next: Oh, no! I thought. Julia! Harper! Sky High! My sister in Denver! Or is— “It’s Walter Shipp,” Trent said finally. “He’s gone missing. And we found your business card here at his house.”

  “My business card?” I murmured. “I don’t understand…”

  I listened carefully as Trent described a few more details about the scene: upturned furniture, no sign of forcible entry, a half-filled bottle of wine and three glasses.

  “And your Sky High card,” he said finally. “It was on the floor covered in drops of blood.”

  I shuddered at the news. When I glanced over, Zack was leaning forward in his chair, both hands flat on the table and a look of deep concern on his face.

  “Could you come by Walter’s?” Trent asked. “I’d really like you to take a look at some of the things we found.”

  “Right now?”

  Zack’s jaw clenched and he sat back in the chair.

  “Yeah,” Trent said. “I really am sorry to interrupt your evening, but I want to get your input about a couple of things as soon as possible. No matter what else we may joke about, you know that I respect your
expertise as a PI. Right, Katie?”

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” I said, ignoring the flattering remark.

  When I dropped the phone into my purse and pushed away from the table, Zack got up and came over to hold my chair.

  “What’s up?” he asked, helping me slip into my coat. “Everything okay?”

  “Do you know Walter Shipp?”

  Zack shook his head.

  “Well, he’s a retired…” I cut off the explanation; that could wait until another time. “It looks like something may have happened to him,” I continued. “Trent just wants me to come by and take a look at something they found.”

  “I heard,” Zack said. “Your business card.”

  “I’m sorry about this, Zack.”

  He frowned. “And you didn’t try the tiramisu yet. Wasn’t that one of the reasons you picked this restaurant?”

  I smiled. “That’ll have to wait.”

  He walked me to the door, one hand pressed gently against my back. “Until our next date?”

  The warm, endearing expression on his face sent waves of desire through my heart. I reached out and squeezed his hand. “That’s a deal. We’ll have tiramisu on our next date.”

  “Sounds perfect!” he said. “Can I walk you to the car?”

  “That’s not necessary, but thank you.” I gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll call you when I get home.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” he said. “Just be careful, Kate.”

  CHAPTER 14

  As I turned onto Evergreen Road a short time later and approached Walter Shipp’s house, I saw the telltale signs that something bad had happened: flashing red and blue lights, stretched lengths of crime scene tape and uniformed personnel with taut, grim faces. I parked a few doors down and walked quickly to the end of the driveway. Amanda Crane, the lone female officer with the Crescent Creek Police Department, stood guard on the opposite side of the fluttering yellow tape.

  “Evening, Kate,” she said. “How can I help you?”

  “I had a call from Deputy Chief Walsh,” I answered. “He asked me to stop by.”

  The slender brunette nodded. “Let me check, okay?”