by Mary Maxwell
“It was actually the night before,” I answered. “She wasn’t officially reported missing until the next afternoon when I came by with a delivery and found the woman on the floor in the kitchen.”
“So…what’s the deal then? You and Gallagher are teaming up to see if you can find Tipper before we do?”
I nodded. “From what I understand, he discussed it with Trent. Considering our compatible backgrounds, I guess Deputy Chief Walsh agreed that it might be worthwhile.”
She smiled. “Trent is competitive like that, isn’t he?”
“That’s not what I mean. It’s just that time is of the essence, so I guess Trent figured—”
“Relax, Katie! It’s all good; I know you’ll do the right thing. It’s Gallagher that I’m worried about.”
“Conflict of interest?”
She tilted her head slightly to the left. “I just wish that Trent had run it by me first,” she said, ignoring my question. “Gallagher may have a background with the DEA, but he’s too close to the situation.”
“I don’t disagree, but how are you going to stop him from doing what he’s already started?”
“And what you’ve already started,” she said in a hushed voice. “Some of the officers around here are asking if you’re a consulting detective now.”
“Because I was asked to help on a couple of things that happened in town?”
“More like because they watch that Elementary show,” she said. “The one with Lucy Liu and Angelina Jolie’s first husband.”
I didn’t follow Hollywood gossip all that closely, so I wasn’t aware that the actor who portrayed Sherlock Holmes on the popular TV show had been married to Brad Pitt’s bride.
“What’s the guy’s name?”
“I have no idea, but he’s kind of cute and he’s got a nice body.”
“Oh, I see. Your standards haven’t changed much since high school. I remember you saying the same thing when you stole Trent out from under me.”
She smiled. “Do you want to rephrase that, Katie?”
“Uh…” My face was turning red. “Yes, I would. I meant, when you stole Trent away from me.”
Her frothy giggle erupted into a throaty laugh. “Yeah, but who got the better end of that deal? I ended up married to the guy for way too many unhappy years, while you gallivanted off to Chicago.”
“I doubt if all of your time with Trent was unhappy,” I said, feeling a twinge of compassion at the sad look on her face.
She nibbled on her lower lip, smoothed a wrinkle from her sleeve and then the gloomy expression vanished. “To be honest, our marriage was really good…until it suddenly wasn’t. We grew apart, you know? It’s the classic scenario—married too young, not enough in common, differences of opinion.”
“And look at you now!” I said, hoping to shift the conversation. “Working together every day to keep Crescent Creek safe.”
Dina wrinkled her nose. “Don’t blow smoke, Katie.”
“I’m serious!”
The crinkly nose relaxed. “I know,” she said. “But you were also blowing smoke.”
I held up my hand, the thumb and index finger nearly touching. “Maybe just a smidge.”
“But I know how you operate, so it’s to be expected. Just like both Trent and I know that you can’t keep from getting involved in some of the more nefarious things that happen around here.”
“I just want to be of service to my community,” I offered. “If I can uncover something that’ll help, it makes me feel—”
“I get it, Katie,” Dina cut in. “And I wouldn’t expect anything less. Besides, I know you’ve already talked to Lila Belle Devereaux and Hannah Flanagan.”
My cheeks went red again. “Dang the luck! I was trying to be surreptitious. And I planned to tell you about all of that. I guess somebody saw me and beat me to the punch.”
She smiled. “Of course, Katie! Are you surprised? This is Crescent Creek. Everyone knows just about everything about everyone else!”
CHAPTER 26
The next morning arrived as another restless night fizzled to a close. I’d dozed off around eleven reading Murder in Mesopotamia, but my eyes flashed open when the furnace thumped on around two. After trying countless combinations of the usual suspects—all three of my body pillows, two extra quilts, my sleep mask, the CD of soothing ocean waves that my sister gave me and a few sips of warm milk, I threw in the towel around four o’clock.
“What’s the point?” I’d complained to the darkness. “The alarm will go off pretty soon anyway.”
A little over an hour later, I was in the Sky High kitchen sipping the first coffee of the day when Julia arrived shortly after five.
“Look at you!” she gushed. “I love that sweater! Is it new?”
I glanced down at the Fair Isle pullover that I’d plucked from my closet after showering. It was roomy, colorful and clean, the ideal accomplice for the tan slacks I was wearing along with my bright orange kitchen clogs.
“My parents brought it back from Scotland,” I said. “They thought all three of us kids would look cute in matching outfits.”
“How’d Brody feel about that?”
I rolled my eyes. “How do you think? He hated it. The only surviving picture my father took that day shows him squirming between Olivia and me with his tongue out.”
“How old was he at the time?”
I smiled. “Old enough to know better. Probably fourteen or fifteen.”
Julia snickered as she shrugged off her coat and grabbed an apron from the linen drawer.
“Looks like a fairly easy day,” I said, glancing at the whiteboard on the wall. “Two pies for Bernice Layton, a bundt cake for Mrs. Pendrake and three dozen scones for Java & Juice.”
“How are the new owners getting along over there?” asked Julia. “Was it Brenda and Stu?”
“Close,” I said. “Brenda and Steve. And they seem to be doing really well. Luckily, Pepper actually ran a pretty smooth operation, so the books were in good order when they bought the shop.”
Java & Juice was a popular Crescent Creek destination for anyone looking for coffee drinks, fresh fruit smoothies and a selection of sweet and savory baked goods. The original owner, a 60-year-old livewire named Pepper McIntosh, had become entangled in a bit of criminal mischief a few months earlier that ended with convictions on a slew of charges including kidnapping, armed assault and conspiracy.
“Did she have to sell it?” Julia asked as she poured coffee into a mug. “I thought maybe she’d let the manager run it while she was locked up.”
“That wasn’t really an option,” I said. “The Federal Bureau of Prisons forbids anyone from being involved in running a business while they’re behind bars. I guess she figured it’d be easier to unload the shop and bank the profit.”
“Has anybody heard from Pepper?”
I shook my head. “I certainly haven’t, but then I didn’t expect—”
The backdoor opened suddenly, allowing Kyle Gallagher and a gust of icy air into the kitchen.
“Morning, Katie,” he said. “I thought you’d be up, so I decided to stop by instead of calling.”
I frowned. “We’re always up at this hour,” I said. “We open at seven, so…” I didn’t finish the thought because I could tell he wanted to say something.
“I’m really sorry to ambush you like this.” The look on his face blended remorse and anticipation. “And I’m sorry for leaving in such a rush last night. But I’ve got to talk to somebody to make sure that I don’t go off the deep end.”
“Should I leave you guys alone?” Julia asked.
I glanced at her. “Have you two met?”
She shook her head, but kept her eyes on Kyle.
“Julia, this is Kyle Gallagher,” I said. “He and Tipper have been—”
The smile on her face collapsed. “Oh, my goodness! You’re the boyfriend. I’m so sorry to hear about everything that’s going on.”
Kyle swallowed hard. “Thank yo
u, ma’am. I appreciate the kind words.”
One corner of Julia’s mouth twitched. “Ma’am?” She crossed her arms with a theatrical flourish and stuck out her lower lip. “Do I look super old this morning or something?”
“No, I just…” Kyle didn’t know if she was kidding or not, so he hesitated and turned to me for direction.
“She’s joking,” I assured him. “But I agree with her; we’re both sorry that you’re going through this.”
“Thanks, Kate. And…” He smiled at Julia. “I’m sorry. What was it again?”
“Julia,” she said. “I hope they find Tipper soon.”
His forehead creased with worry. “So do we all.” He glanced at me. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
Julia went back to her coffee. “Why don’t you all use the office? Harper will be here shortly, so the dining room wouldn’t be very private.”
“Good point, Jules. I’ll be back to help set up as soon as I can.”
“Oh, wait a sec,” Kyle sputtered. “I shouldn’t be disrupting your routine like this. I can come back later.”
“Don’t even think about it.” I grabbed his elbow and tugged him toward the hallway. “I can multi-task like nobody’s business.”
Once we were in my office with the door closed, Kyle sat in a guest chair and I perched on the edge of the desk. I started to ask him a question when he raised one hand.
“Hang on, Kate. I want to tell you the real reason that I’m here.”
“Okay.”
“I think my brother’s behind the kidnapping,” he said.
My mouth fell open. I suspected that he had a bombshell to drop, but I didn’t think it would involve his sibling.
“Uh, I’d say that’s…” I heard myself mutter, even though my brain was whirring in overdrive. “…well, that’s fairly incendiary, Kyle. And the next obvious question is: Why do you think he’s responsible for Tipper’s abduction?”
He got up from the chair and began pacing. Since the office wasn’t especially large and his stride was considerable, it took less than a second or two for him to reach either end of the room.
“Clark’s been living beyond his means for quite a long while now,” Kyle explained in a dry, flat tone. “He borrowed a few thousand from our parents. I gave him a loan, something around eight grand. And he’s maxed out every credit card that he could get his hands on.”
I’d worked plenty of cases in Chicago that began with someone in need of a quick cash infusion. But I hadn’t been involved in any situations that involved a man’s girlfriend being abducted by his brother. I was considering the strange twist of fate when Kyle asked me a question that mirrored the thoughts in my mind.
“The look on your face says a lot, Kate,” he murmured in a low rasp. “I guess you see where I’m going with this, right?”
I nodded, got up from the edge of the desk and went behind it to sit down. “Yes, but why do you think Clark’s involved?”
“Ransom note on the air fresheners,” he said. “In the actual case, it was written on the back of a carryout menu from a Chinese restaurant. The kidnapper hung that on the rearview mirror in the victim’s car with one of her hair ribbons. Whenever I tell the story, I always change that detail to something else that most people would have in their homes—playing cards, credit card statements, utility bills. I do that because I’m not comfortable revealing some of the key details from the actual crime.”
“Not even to your own brother?”
He shrugged. “I’m a creature of habit. I don’t talk about the past all that often any more. But when I do, the stories are always the same; I replace certain important items, like the carryout menu, and I never use real names or locations.”
“To keep it discreet?”
“And out of respect for the victims and the work I used to do,” he said. “DEA agents are dedicated to integrity, truth and justice.” He stopped pacing and returned to the chair. “I know that may sound like empty rhetoric, but it was how I used to conduct myself.”
“I don’t think anyone would argue against that approach, Kyle. But I still don’t understand why you’re convinced that Clark had something to do with Tipper’s abduction.”
He took a long, slow breath. “Because I told my brother about my last case a few weeks ago. And it’s the only time that I’ve replaced the Chinese menu with a ransom note written on a bunch of air fresheners.”
CHAPTER 27
An hour later, after Kyle headed for the Crescent Creek PD station to share the news with Dina and Trent, I was in the kitchen with Julia.
“Your voice sounds perky,” she said after we talked about one of the special orders. “But your face says something completely different. What’s going on?”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, keeping my eyes on the ball of dough I was kneading.
“That’s not what I asked, Katie. Is it about Tipper?”
I nodded.
“Something Kyle Gallagher told you?”
“Yep.”
“Anything you can share?”
“Nope.”
“Are all of your answers going to be single words now?”
“Maybe.”
She heaved a sigh and poured the cup of sugar in her hand into the mixer for the batch of scones she was making.
“When you came back to Sky High from Chicago,” she said after a long silence, “I thought we agreed that secrets weren’t welcome here.”
I began to work the pie dough with Nana Reed’s beloved marble rolling pin. “They aren’t. What Kyle Gallagher told me isn’t about Sky High.”
“Oh, I get it. Secrets are okay if they’re not about pies and cookies. Isn’t that kind of a double standard?”
I knew she was right. And I also knew that the reason I didn’t want to divulge Gallagher’s confession was because it related to an active investigation by the local police. But since Julia was one of the most trustworthy people I’d ever met, I knew it was safe to share the information.
“Okay, you’re right,” I said. “But you have to promise me—”
She quickly moved one hand over her chest, leaving a powdery trail of flour on her dark blue Sky High T-shirt. “Cross my heart, Katie.”
I gingerly rolled the crust onto the marble cylinder and then draped it over the pie tin.
“Kyle thinks his brother kidnapped Tipper,” I said when I finished. “It’s a long story, but he’s pretty convinced that Clark—that’s his brother—is holding Tipper for ransom to try and pay off his debt or get ahead financially.”
“Six of one,” Julia said. “Paying off debt is getting ahead.”
I smirked at her. “Thank you for the clarification, Jules.”
“Has he already told Trent?”
“That’s where he was going after he left here,” I said.
“Is his brother local?”
I thought for a moment. “You know, I don’t think Kyle specifically mentioned where his brother lives. It sounded like they’ve got family all over the state; father’s in Pueblo, a sister lives in Leadville.”
“And how soon are you and he going to start working together behind the scenes?”
I answered with a laugh first and then my cheeks turned pink. “You know me too well, Jules.”
“Yep.”
“Do you think I should reconsider helping Kyle?”
She giggled. “Nope.”
“Could you finish up the last two orders after we close so I can do some sleuthing?”
The cheery giggle cascaded into a roaring laugh. “Maybe.”
I left the pie crust I was working on, darted over to where she stood and gave her a hug. “You’re amazing, Jules! You make me smile. You make me laugh. And you make me grateful every second of every day that you’re here at Sky High.”
Once I lowered my arms and stepped back, Julia furrowed her brow. “Is that the sound of a salary bump coming my way?”
She delivered the question with such a comical expression that I felt
myself nodding in agreement. “It does indeed,” I said. “You and Harper have both earned another increase. Not only do you do an amazing job, but you put up with my lunacy now and then.”
She frowned. “What lunacy?”
“You know—leaving early to do my amateur detective work,” I said. “Like I plan to do this afternoon after I make a couple of deliveries and check in with Trent.”
“Oh, shoot! That’s not lunacy by a long stretch, Katie! That’s you providing a community service to folks in need.”
CHAPTER 28
Trent looked up from the bowl of chili on his desk and smirked crossly. When I’d arrived a few minutes earlier, he was sitting with one arm looped around the spicy stew, as if he was afraid someone would swoop in and steal it from him. A box of saltines waited nearby, although I could tell from the crumbs on his shirt that he’d already nibbled a few of the crunchy crackers before I walked into his office.
“Community service?” he grumbled. “Did Julia really say that?”
I nodded. “She did. Wasn’t that sweet?”
He scooped more chili from the bowl, deposited it in his mouth and chewed contentedly.
“What else is she gonna say?” he asked when the chomping subsided. “She’s your employee, Katie.”
I could tell he was in full curmudgeon mode; grouchy and irritable and uninterested in lighthearted conversation.
“Should I leave?” I asked.
He reached for the crackers. “Before you tell me why you’re here?”
“I wanted to know how it went with Kyle Gallagher.”
The spoon hovered above the chili; trembling slightly as Trent decided which was more important—another scoop of his meal or telling me about their meeting.
“How do you think it went?” he asked, putting down the spoon. “He’s got a theory about his brother. We’re following all the leads we can. And I can’t really say much more than that about an active investigation.”
“Seriously?”