by Mary Maxwell
“Well, that’s not what I wanted to hear,” Trent muttered as he plunked the phone back onto the dashboard.
“What is it?” I asked.
He turned and shrugged. “The woman you found in there,” he said in a flat, weary tone. “She didn’t make it.”
CHAPTER 9
The tea in my cup had cooled and the pair of chocolate chip cookies that I’d grabbed a half hour earlier were untouched on a plate beside my laptop. It was around seven that evening. I was in the office at Sky High, trying to focus on bookkeeping and invoices while jagged imagery from the crime scene flashed repeatedly in my mind.
After talking to Trent earlier, I’d climbed into my car and sat behind the wheel for another twenty minutes, sifting through my most recent conversations with Tipper. But no matter how many times I replayed them, I couldn’t find anything suspicious or out of the ordinary. It was as if my friend had suddenly plunged from her normal daily life into a terrifying nightmare with an unknown ending.
“It’s no use,” I finally muttered, closing the computer and pushing away from the desk. “All of you pests can wait until tomorrow.”
I walked the tea and cookies into the Sky High kitchen. The whiteboard on the wall forecast that the following day would be busy with special orders and initial prep work on a catering job for Gretchen Goode. She was the editor of The Crescent Creek Gazette, one of the few small town newspapers still publishing a daily print edition. She was also Zack’s boss, so I wanted everything to be especially perfect for the luncheon she was hosting for several of the area’s leading entrepreneurs.
After washing the cup and slipping the cookies into a plastic bag, I headed outside and climbed the exterior stairs to my apartment. The Victorian that housed Sky High Pies was my self-contained universe: bakery café on the main level and a snug, comfortable apartment directly above. My sister often asked if I was going to look for a separate place to call home, but I liked the simplicity and ease of the arrangement. I also liked the fact that I could hit the snooze button on my alarm more than once in the morning and still get to work on time.
The living room sofa looked more than a little inviting when I came through the door, but I drifted past it into the hallway. Although it was still early, a hot bubble bath sounded ideal. The shock of finding the woman on Tipper’s kitchen floor had left knots of tension coiled around my neck and shoulders.
I went into the bathroom and peeled off my clothes. As I poured my new eucalyptus and spearmint soap into the tub, I heard the sleigh bells hanging on the front door chime as someone unlocked the deadbolt and stepped into my apartment.
“Yoo-hoo!”
I grabbed my robe as my heart crashed against my ribs.
“Katie?”
Even though it was my sister, the unexpected disruption had already sent my pulse into the stratosphere. I scurried into the hallway just as Olivia and her rolling suitcase came around the corner.
“There you are!” she exclaimed cheerfully. “I was afraid you’d forgotten I was staying here tonight before driving to Salt Lake in the morning!”
I gulped. “Nope.”
“Thank goodness! I sent you a text about an hour ago, but you didn’t respond so…” She stopped and tilted her head. “Why do you have that look on your face?”
“What look? ”
She moved closer, squinting and craning her heck. “You know, Katie. It’s that, uh…”
I folded my arms across my stomach. “How was the drive?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.
“Fine,” Liv said. “But why…it’s the look you always get when something’s wrong. Like when dad fell and broke his ankle and you didn’t want mom to know so—”
“I’m okay!” I quickly swept both arms into the air. “I’m absolutely fine!”
She smirked. “You’re absolutely lying.”
I waited while she abandoned the suitcase, dropped her purse on the floor and shrugged off her down jacket.
“So?” Her eyes were narrowed again. “What’s going on? Did Zack break up with you?”
I laughed in response to the question. Then I told her that Zack and I were still very much in love. And then I asked how she and Cooper were doing.
“No way,” she said. “This isn’t about me. Whatever’s going on here is about you.”
“I’m okay, Liv. It was a really crappy afternoon, so maybe—”
“And it’s got nothing to do with Zack?”
I shook my head. “We’re fine. He’s fine. I was just getting ready to take a bubble bath.”
The mistrustful sneer on her face was replaced by a toothy grin. “I knew it! You forgot I was coming to spend the night!”
While she surrounded me in a tight hug, I tried to recall the plan. When I kept coming up blank, I decided that honesty really was the best policy.
“I’m sorry, Liv,” I confessed once she’d unlocked her arms and stepped back. “I’m lucky that I can remember your name after what I saw this afternoon.”
She frowned. “What did you see?”
“Let’s get something to drink,” I said, taking her arm and guiding her down the hall to the kitchen. “Maybe a bottle of vodka and two straws.”
She laughed softly at the silly joke. “You almost never drink vodka, Katie. Whatever it is must’ve been just awful!”
“It was,” I said. “And you’re right; I’m not big on vodka. Let’s have a glass of wine instead and I’ll tell you all about it.”
I pulled the half-filled bottle of soave from the refrigerator, removed the cork and retrieved two glasses from the overhead cabinet.
“It’s about Tipper,” I began, filling one of the wine glasses and sliding it across the counter. “I went by her house earlier to—”
“Is this about the pageboy?” Liv asked. “And the argument you guys had when she cut her hair to look more like you? And her dreamy brother helped smooth things over?”
I smiled at the goofy expression on her face. “That’s right! You so had the hots for Mitchell, didn’t you?”
“Who didn’t?” my sister gushed. “He was sex on a stick back then!”
I nodded. “Yeah, and he’s not half bad now either. But he’s married and Theresa just had their third bambino.”
I sipped my wine while Liv settled onto a barstool.
“Are you pulling my leg? Mitchell Hedge has three kids? He always used to say that he’d never get married because there were too many cute girls in the world.”
I plucked a box of Wheat Thins from the cupboard, put them on the counter and opened the refrigerator again.
“I don’t know about that,” I said, searching for the olive tapenade and wedge of cheddar that I’d been munching on the night before. “But something terrible happened at his sister’s place this afternoon, and—” I suddenly realized that I hadn’t asked Trent when he was going to contact Tipper’s family. “I’m sorry about this, Liv. Will you just hang on for a sec? I need to call Trent before I do anything else.”
“Yeah, sure,” she said. “But don’t you dare dial that thing until you tell me if Tipper’s going to be okay.”
My hand was hovering above the phone on the counter. “That’s the scary part,” I told my sister. “Nobody even knows where she is at the moment.”
CHAPTER 10
Trent sounded short of breath when he answered my call a few seconds later.
“What’s up?” he wheezed. “I’m still at Tipper’s, going through the evidence we’ve gathered so far.”
I apologized for interrupting the investigation before quickly asking about Tipper’s mother and younger brother.
“Dina’s taking care of that,” Trent said. “She was working a stolen tractor call, but I asked her to track down Mrs. Hedge. Turns out she’s not in even in town at the moment.”
“Okay, thanks. My sister’s here and I was getting ready to tell her what happened this afternoon.”
“Liv’s up from Denver?”
I glanced over at
Olivia. “She is indeed. Unfortunately, I forgot all about her visit, so she caught me getting ready for a—”
“Tell her I said hello,” Trent cut in. “But I can’t really talk right now. I’m waiting for the Las Cruces PD to come back on the other line.”
“Las Cruces?”
“New Mexico,” he said. “The jewelry that was in the woman’s pocket that got shot was taken during a robbery in Las Cruces about six days ago.”
“How’d you make that connection so quickly?” I asked.
“Credit card receipt in the pickup we found in Tipper’s garage,” Trent answered. “It was from a Chevron station down there. Turns out the MasterCard they used was strong armed from a guy and his wife outside the Las Cruces art museum one night last week.”
“Do the local PD have any suspects?”
“Couple of drifters were seen in the museum parking lot,” Trent said. “But the robbery actually—” When he stopped abruptly, I figured he was being told that the other call was ready. I motioned to my sister that I’d be off in a second. She raised her wine glass and smiled. I was getting ready to do the same thing when I heard Trent clearing his throat. “Katie? I’ve gotta go.”
“You bet,” I said. “I was just curious about Tipper’s family.”
“I was going to suggest that you drop by tomorrow and check on her mom,” he said. “But, like I already told you, she’s in Houston visiting relatives. Maybe you can call or wait until she’s back up here.” He paused, sighed and said, “Now, I’ve really gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
When the line went dead, I put down the phone and reached for my wine.
“How’s he doing?” Olivia asked. “You guys still getting along okay?”
I gave her a stern glare before sipping the soave. “Our high school romance ended in high school,” I said. “And that was a million years ago.”
“More like thirteen,” Liv said smugly. “And some embers linger on.”
I ignored the quip. “Okay, so…” I put down the wine and grabbed a few crackers. “Should we go out for dinner or do you want to nibble on whatever I’ve got here?”
Liv finished her wine. “We’re not going anywhere,” she declared, “until you tell me about Tipper.”
I’d been so wrapped up in her unexpected arrival and then the quick call to Trent that my jittery mind had wandered off the track. After refilling her glass and pouring crackers into a bowl, I told her I wanted to get dressed before launching into the story.
“That’s fine by me,” my sister said, gesturing at my chest with a handful of Wheat Thins. “Your girls have been playing peek-a-boo for the past five minutes. I’ll meet you in the living room when you’re decent.”
CHAPTER 11
One hour, two glasses of wine and dozens of Wheat Thins later, my sister was asleep on the living room sofa. Between long days as an attorney, keeping up with her husband’s travel schedule and herding 12-year-old twin sons, Olivia’s exhaustion wasn’t surprising. She originally proposed the stopover in Crescent Creek to shorten the drive to Salt Lake City, but I also think it was a rare opportunity for her to get away from the daily grind in Denver.
“Sweet dreams, Sleeping Beauty,” I whispered, covering her with a quilt and turning off the lights.
I was halfway down the hall to my room when I heard a muffled robotic drone from the kitchen. It was my phone. I’d tucked it into a drawer after Olivia dared me to go without it while we chatted. I’d agreed to the challenge as long as she joined me. After talking and drinking and reminiscing for the past hour, I’d forgotten that our phones were stashed away.
“Oh, drat my luck,” I murmured, rushing as quietly as possible to retrieve the noisemaker before it woke my sister. “I hope I can—”
And I did, plucking my phone from the drawer and swiping at the screen.
“Hello,” I said quietly.
“Katie? I need help!”
I didn’t recognize the feathery voice, so I checked the display on the phone: TANIA STURGES 575-555-6987. I didn’t know the name or number, but the woman sounded distressed so I figured hanging up wouldn’t be the best choice.
“This is Kate Reed,” I said, tiptoeing down the hall. “How can I help?”
“It’s Tipper,” the hushed voice said. “I didn’t know who else to—”
“Oh, my gosh! Tipper? Where are you?”
“I don’t know, Katie. I tried my brother, but it went—”
“Wait a second! You don’t know where you are? What’s going on, Tipper? I came over earlier and…” It sounded like she was crying, so I paused briefly. “Were you home when the woman was shot?”
“He put me in the trunk before they started arguing,” she said. “It’s a black car, okay? Almost like the one I drive, but an older model. And I found this phone in a briefcase that he tossed in here with me.”
It felt like everything had begun to spin slowly, as if my world was starting to pivot away from level and ordinary toward a type of alternative universe. I was in my bedroom. My sister was sleeping soundly in the living room. And my friend was on the other end of the line telling me that she’d been abducted and placed in the trunk of a car.
“Are you hurt?” I asked.
“Nothing bad. Some scratches where that girl grabbed my arm when they first came in the house.”
“The one that I found?” I asked. “In your kitchen?”
“Uh-huh. I wasn’t there when she got shot, Katie. I was in the garage. All three of them were crazy! Just plain crazy! I was at home around three. I knew you were coming by with the delivery, and Kirsten had called to say she was running late. When the doorbell rang, I figured…” She gasped softly. “Oh, no! The car’s stopping! We’re stopping, Katie!”
I held my breath, waiting for her to continue.
“Tipper?”
“I heard some kind of door open,” she said finally, her voice even softer than before. “Like a garage door maybe.”
“How long have you been in there?”
“I have no idea. It feels like we’ve been just wandering around town, stopping and going, stopping and going. At one point, I heard the bells at St. Mary’s and then a bunch of kids laughing and talking.”
“St. Mary’s on Euclid?”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“Okay, that’s really good, sweetie. If he’s just been driving you around town, maybe—”
“I don’t want to die, Katie.”
The statement was simultaneously heartbreaking and distressing, the last thing anyone would ever want to hear a friend say.
“I know, Tipper. But try not to think of that, okay? Trent’s got everyone searching for you.”
“They have guns,” she whispered. “And there’s a dog.”
“A dog?”
“They had a dog when they came to my door,” she said. “And they looked really normal, so I—” She stopped, but I could still hear her breathing. “We just drove inside somewhere,” she murmured. “I don’t want him to hear me, Katie. I don’t want him to—”
The line went dead, but I kept the phone pressed to my ear.
Hoping.
Waiting.
And feeling the sense of dread as it blossomed somewhere deep inside.
CHAPTER 12
My fingers trembled as I punched Trent’s number into my phone. When the call connected and I heard the scratchy recording he’d made years earlier, I hung up and dialed 911.
“Police Dispatch,” a woman said. “What’s the exact location of your emergency?”
“This is Kate Reed,” I told her. “I need to reach Deputy Chief Walsh right away! It’s about Tipper Hedge.”
“Yes, Miss Reed. This is Sergeant Oliver.”
“Can you please get Trent on his walkie-talkie?” The words flew from my mouth even as my throat tightened with fear. “Tipper’s been kidnapped. She just called me from…” The voice in my head uttered the obvious question: Where? “Uh, she just called and I need to talk w
ith Trent as soon as possible!”
“This is about the incident on Hanover, right?”
“Please! Will you get Trent to call me? One woman’s already dead. I don’t want—”
“Stay calm, ma’am. I’m going to place you on hold while I try to reach Deputy Chief Walsh.”
Each second felt like infinity as I clutched the phone and sat on the edge of my bed. I was concentrating so intently on the call that I didn’t hear my sister until she was standing in front of me.
“Katie?” She had the quilt wrapped around her shoulders. “Is everything okay?”
I shook my head. “That was Tipper,” I answered. “She just called me!”
Her mouth dropped open as she sat beside me. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. But she didn’t know where they were.”
“They?”
“She’s been kidnapped, Liv! She was talking about the man that took her, so—”
My sister turned slightly and put one hand on my arm. “Calm down, Katie. I didn’t…I wasn’t exactly following. I was sound asleep and…I heard you talking. It sounded bad, so I…”
She took a deep breath, squeezing my arm like she did when we were kids and I was upset. Back then, it was about a boy. Or something in school. Now, it was my friend being plunged into a horrifying nightmare.
“Sorry,” I said after we sat quietly for a moment or two. “It was her voice, you know? Tipper’s voice? She sounded so—”
The emergency operator came back on the line. “Miss Reed?”
“Did you find him?”
“Yes, he’ll be calling you any second.”
“Okay, thank you so much, sergeant.”
“You’re welcome,” the woman said. “And I’m sorry to hear about your friend, ma’am.”
Before I could reply, the line beeped with the incoming call signal. I quickly thanked the operator again before toggling over to Trent.
“She called you?” he asked gruffly.
“Yes. I didn’t recognize the name or number, but Tipper said she found a phone in the trunk.”