by Mary Maxwell
He winced. “What? You know the deal, Katie.”
“Of course, I know the deal. We’re both well aware that I know. So I don’t understand why you’re playing coy.”
His eyes drifted down to the cooling chili before climbing back up to meet my gaze. “This isn’t coy,” he said. “This is me discharging my duties as Deputy Chief of the Crescent Creek PD.”
I got up from the chair and slipped my purse under one arm. “I’ll see you later, Trent.”
“Whoa! What’s the rush? You just got here!”
I stopped by the door. “True, but I can tell you’re in a foul mood.”
“It’s called hunger, Katie. I haven’t had anything since a stale bear claw that I found in the conference room this morning.”
I glanced at his trash can. “Then who ate the KFC?”
He gulped in an anxious breath. “Uh…” His face turned bright red. “C’mon, Katie! Gimme a break, okay? I’m doing overtime here, trying to find your friend Tipper. The last thing I deserve is you busting my chops.”
I turned and walked back to the chair. “Do I have your attention now?” I asked, sitting on the edge of the seat. “I’m not trying to waste anybody’s time, yours or mine. I just wanted to see if you could tell me something about what Kyle Gallagher shared with you when he stopped by earlier.”
Trent heaved a squelchy sigh. “You drive a hard bargain, Katie.”
I shook my head. “No, I drive my dad’s old Ford Taurus. You’re just playing games because you’re in one of your—” I lifted both hands to make air quotes. “—‘by the book’ snits. I bet you confided in someone and they betrayed the confidence.”
He grunted and sat back from the desk. “Bert Dolenz. He asked me what I thought of his new business partner. I told him the guy seemed shady. And the next thing I know, I’m in line at Kentucky Fried Chicken this afternoon and the joker’s coming at me like I’m a bullfighter waving a red cape.”
“Bert told the guy what you said?”
Trent nodded. “Everything. They were drinking whiskey at The Wagon Wheel the other night, somehow I came up in conversation. Next thing I know, I’m trying to buy some chicken and—”
I stopped him with one raised hand. “Yeah, yeah. You’re the bullfighter. And he’s the bull. I got the image, okay? But I don’t see what that’s got to do with Kyle Gallagher and whatever he told you about his brother.”
He grabbed the box of saltines and held it toward me. “Want one?”
“I’m good.”
“Okay, alright,” he muttered, pulling a few of the pale square crackers from the waxed sleeve. “I suppose it’s not that big of a deal. I also know that I can trust you.”
I shook my head. “Didn’t feel that way about ten seconds ago.”
I watched and listened as he crunched through the saltines and tiny crumbs rained down on his shirt.
“Here’s the deal, Katie. Gallagher’s brother isn’t a Boy Scout. He’s been in and out of jail since he was a teenager. At some point, he spent five years in the hoosegow for grand theft auto.”
“Here in Colorado?”
Trent shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“I was just wondering if he was local or if—”
“New Mexico,” he interrupted. “Although he was in juvie in Denver for some burglary nonsense when he was sixteen or seventeen.”
“Is the truck his?” I asked. “The one you found in Tipper’s garage?”
Trent shook his head. “No, it was stolen. Same thing with the tags. The truck’s owner reported the theft to the Las Cruces PD, and the guy who lost the license plates from his sedan didn’t even know it until a detective knocked on his door.”
“Had Kyle’s brother met Tipper before?”
Trent frowned. “Great question, Katie. I didn’t think to ask when Gallagher was here.”
“Did he say where he was going next?”
“Who—Kyle?”
I smiled, but didn’t say anything. The grouchy haze had cleared from Trent’s face, so I knew he was trying to get my goat.
“I think he was going to the Moonlight,” Trent said. “He told me that he’s staying at the motel to keep from driving back and forth to Denver while all of this Tipper stuff is happening.”
“Makes sense.”
Trent scoffed. “That’s about the only thing in this cockamamie case that does.”
“What’re you talking about?” I reached across the desk for a saltine. “On the surface, it seems pretty obvious. Tipper’s mother received a small fortune not long ago in her divorce settlement. Then Tipper met Gallagher. Then he told his brother about the new girlfriend’s rich mother. The brother’s in debt up to his frontal lobes, not to mention that his frontal lobes aren’t exactly firing on all cylinders. He cooks up a scheme to kidnap Tipper and hold her for ransom, gets the dead woman to come along for the ride and something goes south before they can get Tipper out of her house. I don’t see how Dermot Flanagan fits into all of that yet, but I’m pretty sure he’s involved, too. Could be he’s a friend of Kyle’s brother.”
Trent watched as I nibbled on the cracker. Then he asked if I wanted some chili.
“No, I’m good,” I said. “But thanks for the offer.”
He smiled. “Mi casa is your casa,” he mumbled. “And mi chili is—”
Luckily, Dina Kincaid popped her head in the door before he had a chance to mangle any more attempts at Spanish.
“Hey, Katie! How’s it going?”
“Fine, detective. How are you?”
The twinkle in her eyes dimmed. “Crap on a cracker,” she said. “It’s been that kind of week so far.”
I grabbed my purse. “I’ll get out of the way then,” I said. “Thanks for the info, Trent.”
“Mi zapato is casado,” he said.
I got up and stood by the desk. “I think you just told me that your shoe is married, Trent. Is that what you meant to say?”
He blushed. “Oh, gimme a break, Katie! I’m trying to learn a few phrases before me and Caleb Brown go to a conference in Puerto Vallarta.”
Dina snickered. “When is it?”
“Next month,” Trent beamed. “You guys will be freezing in the snow while we dip our toes in the ocean and drink tequila shots with a bunch of beautiful señoritas!”
I moved closer and brushed the crumbs from his shirt. “There. Now you’ll look more presentable should a beautiful señorita come to see you tonight.”
CHAPTER 29
The parking lot at the Moonlight Motel was nearly empty when I arrived later that afternoon. One dark sedan was parked near the office, a maroon SUV was in front of a guest room and Earl Dodd’s weathered Saab occupied its usual spot at the far edge of the asphalt. Earl and I were high school classmates. When I left Crescent Creek for Chicago, he stayed behind to help his father run the motel.
“Well, look at you!” he warbled as I came through the door. “A friendly face for a change!”
I smiled and walked to the counter where he was swiping at an iPad. “Bad day, Earl?”
“There was a situation,” he answered. “Involved a middle-aged couple from Boise. I guess they’re taking a road trip to rekindle their marriage.”
“But things aren’t going so well?”
“Not this morning. We’ve got a couple thousand dollars worth of damage now in the last room before the vending machines. They got into a tussle that went on for about an hour. She threw a chair. He punched the wall. And they both hurled beer bottles at one another. When the dust settled, we’d lost a television, part of the bathroom vanity and the desk chair. When you add in replacing the drywall, painting and carpet, you’re easily looking at a couple grand in repairs.”
I’d seen Earl under trying circumstances before, but he seemed unusually calm in the wake of the damage to the motel room. When I told him how well he was handling the incident, he explained that his new girlfriend was a yoga instructor who’d taught him a few relaxation techniques.
“Wow! A new girlfriend? I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”
He shifted on the stool behind the counter and fidgeted with the iPad. “It’s still pretty new, so…” His voice cracked. “I mean, you were always so popular and everything, Katie. You had boyfriends and stuff when we were in school. And that guy in Chicago; the tool who broke your heart. But I haven’t been so lucky in the love department.”
I nodded. “What’s her name?”
“Penelope. We met on a dating site.”
“That’s great, Earl! I’m so happy for you.”
He made a face and looked down at the counter. Then he said, “Want to see her picture?”
“Sure, of course.”
After he swiped and tapped for a minute or two, he held up the tablet. The screen was filled with the photograph of a beautiful woman. She had raven hair, piercing blue eyes and prominent cheekbones.
“She’s stunning,” I said. “I’d love to meet her sometime. Why don’t you guys come into Sky High for breakfast or lunch?”
He shrugged. “Penelope doesn’t eat sugar,” he said sheepishly. “Or carbs.”
I laughed and said we could always fix her up with a glass of water and a sprig of parsley. Earl’s face brightened as his brawny laugh filled the room.
“That’s funny, Katie! I’ll have to tell her tonight when I go for hot yoga.”
From the impish grin on his face, I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or if that was a euphemism for something else. I decided to move on to the reason for my visit and ask about Kyle Gallagher.
Earl’s goofy smile dropped into a frown. “Who’s that?”
The question momentarily derailed my train of thought. I watched as Earl guzzled from a can of Mountain Dew. When he finished I gave him a few details about Kyle Gallagher’s appearance—short brown hair, pale green eyes and scruff along his jawline—before asking if anyone fitting the description was registered at the motel.
“Not even close,” Earl said. “It’s been a really slow week, Katie. So far, besides the couple that trashed their room, we’ve had a mom and dad with their infant twins, a pair of elderly women who are in town visiting their brother and a young couple covered in tattoos.”
I considered the information, trying to comprehend why Kyle Gallagher had apparently misinformed Trent about where he was staying. Before I could reach a logical conclusion, Earl was asking me a question.
“…be staying over at Connie’s?” he was saying. “Lots of people go there if they want a fancy-schmancy place to sleep while they’re in town.”
“Sorry?” I mumbled, still thinking about Gallagher’s possible fib.
“Crescent Creek Lodge,” Earl said. “You know—Connie Larson’s place? She gets some of the business we used to, especially now that she’s got that splashy new website and a bunch of videos on YouTube.”
“Oh, right. I just thought…well, someone told me that Kyle Gallagher was staying here.”
Earl shook his head again. “Nobody by that name,” he said. “And nobody matching that description.”
I thanked him for the help and asked about his father.
“He’s doing really well!” Earl beamed. “He met someone, too.”
From the cheerful grin and lift in his voice, I could tell my old friend was in better spirits than the last time we spoke. After his mother passed away, Earl’s father had drifted deeper and deeper into depression. The last time I saw Mr. Dodd, at the annual book fair sponsored by the local library, he barely uttered a word.
“That is such great news! How’d they meet?”
Earl rolled his eyes. “Blanche Speltzer’s matchmaking service,” he answered. “I didn’t tell my dad that I’d asked her to fix him up, so it was a little tricky to arrange at first. But we finally figured out a way to introduce them and they went to Bier Haus for karaoke night. The rest, as they say, is history!”
“Do you mind if I ask her name?”
He glanced around to make sure the door to his father’s office was closed. “Gwen Healy,” he whispered. “She’s new in town; moved from Portland to be closer to her daughter and son-in-law. Her husband passed away a few years ago, so that’s another thing she and my father have in common.”
“Well, I think that’s so exciting for your dad! I hope maybe you’ll bring them both to Sky High sometime for lunch.”
Earl groaned. “Hollis quit last week. I’m eating breakfast, lunch and dinner right here, Katie!” He knocked the countertop with his knuckles. “The only time I get away is for yoga with my sweetheart. But once I hire a new night manager, I’ll bring dad and his girlfriend in for some of your grandmother’s Bananas Foster Bread Pudding. That’s his favorite, so I’m guessing Gwen will like it, too.”
“Sounds like they’re very compatible.”
He laughed. “Two peas,” he said. “One pod. I haven’t seen my dad this happy since he and mom went to Las Vegas and came home with two grand from the nickel slots.”
“Who wouldn’t be happy about that?”
Earl nodded. “Yeah, it was their last trip together, so it’s an extra special memory.”
We stood together for a moment or two; I imagined Earl was thinking about his mother while I pictured my late nana’s crinkly eyes and buoyant smile during our final afternoon together. She’d passed away years earlier, but I could easily conjure vivid images from that day whenever she was mentioned or anytime she crossed my mind.
“Yeah, so…” Earl said finally. “I should probably go back and check on my dad.”
“Sure, of course. Thanks for letting me ambush you about Kyle Gallagher.”
“You’re always welcome, Katie. I’m sorry that I couldn’t help you out.”
“Actually, you did. I’ll give Connie a call and see if maybe he’s staying at the Lodge. There’s always a chance that he got confused; like, maybe he originally planned to stay here or actually did at some point in the past.”
“That makes sense,” Earl said, sliding off the stool where he’d been sitting. “I’ll catch you at Sky High as soon as I get a new manager to help out around here.”
“Sure thing,” I said, turning for the door. “And if I hear of anyone—”
My voice stalled when I saw the fleck of bright green in the wastebasket beside the front door. It was the second time in as many days that I’d been stopped in my tracks by a discarded toothpick wrapped in frilly cellophane.
“Hey, Earl?” I asked, turning back to the front desk.
“Yeah?”
“Do you know who left the toothpick in the trash?”
The happy-go-lucky grin on his face softened. “The jerk from Albuquerque,” he grumbled. “He and his tattoo-covered girlfriend are in Room 24. I wanted to kick them out, but dad says he wants the revenue.”
I felt a flutter of intuition somewhere deep inside. “Do you know what they’re driving?”
He bit the inside of his cheek. “Um, it was a truck,” he said finally. “But I couldn’t tell you if it was a Dodge or a Chevy or what.”
“Like a new one or—”
“It was new,” he said. “About a million years ago. They were driving an old pickup. It’s seen some hard miles and taken some heavy hits.”
“Is there a big dent on one side?”
His eyebrows lifted. “You got it! Do you know those clowns?”
“Not yet,” I said. “But I hope to make their acquaintance sooner rather than later.”
CHAPTER 30
I climbed back into my car in the motel parking lot, checked in with Julia at Sky High and listened carefully as she fretted about delivering a special order to the mayor’s office the next afternoon.
“I could do it,” she said. “But Emma’s in a play at school and I promised to be there for the first rehearsal. So…if I left a little early, went home for a quick shower and stopped at City Hall on the way, it would save you the trip.”
When she’d finished, I told her that I would take the pies and cookies to the
mayor.
“Sure you don’t mind?” Julia asked with a cheerful lilt.
“Jules?”
“Yes, Katie.”
“Do you know how many times you’ve saved my sanity?”
She giggled.
“Or,” I continued, “how many extra deliveries you’ve made over the years when my parents were managing the place?”
“I guess that means you’ll be okay delivering the mayor’s goodies?”
“More than okay,” I said. “I’m just grateful that both you and Harper are on my team. It makes life so much easier.”
Another soft giggle came through the phone. “It also gives you time to be Nancy Drew.”
“That’s true,” I said.
“Speaking of which,” Julia began, “there was a message earlier for you…” I could hear her footsteps padding across the kitchen floor at Sky High. “Harper put it on your desk and…” The office door creaked open. “…I was up to my eyeballs in cream cheese frosting, but I think she said…” She shuffled papers and told me to hang on. “Aha!” she exclaimed victoriously. “Here it is! Oh, how sweet! It’s from your mother.”
The bubbling anticipation that had been building suddenly fell flat. If she didn’t call my phone directly, the messages my mother left were usually about unflattering critiques she’d heard from someone in Crescent Creek. My parents had left Colorado months earlier, but they maintained close ties with most of their friends. In my mother’s case, that also included many of the gossipmongers and curmudgeons who were peeved if their favorite table was already occupied when they visited Sky High for breakfast or lunch.
“Katie?” Julia said. “Should I read this to you?”
“Okay, sure.”
“Let’s see…your mom called a few minutes after three to tell you that…” She paused. “Well, this is weird. She called to tell you that Dell Flanagan used to own a white water rafting company, but you shouldn’t mention it if you go see his wife.” There was another brief pause as Julia walked back to the kitchen. “Does that make sense to you?”
“Yep.”
“Anything you can share?”