Chocolate Most Deadly (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 2)

by Mary Maxwell

  “We can talk about both,” he suggested.

  “Let’s not,” I said. “I’d rather talk about the Zimmer twins and Lois Jordan.”

  “Because you think they’re the jealous type?”

  “Everyone’s capable of jealousy,” I said. “Including those three. But I also think one of them is capable of murder.”

  CHAPTER 35

  When the alarm went off the next morning, I nearly heaved it against the wall. After getting home from Denver around eleven the night before, I soaked in a bubble bath, sent my parents a long email about my first few weeks at Sky High and fell into bed with the latest issue of Food & Wine. I’d barely read one page before drifting into a deep sleep that lasted until the metallic chirp, chirp, chirp announced that morning had arrived. I hit the snooze button twice, but as I extended my arm for a third time my brain suddenly switched into overdrive. Get up! it screamed. There are ten million things to do!

  Thirty minutes later, I breezed out my apartment door, down the exterior stairs and into the kitchen just as Julia scurried out of the pantry carrying a stack of muffin tins.

  “Morning, sunshine!” she said in a perky, bright voice. “How’re you doing?”

  I scowled at her. “It’s too early for such a complicated question.”

  “Then let’s take it slow,” she said. “What’s your first name?”

  My scowl darkened. “Don’t tempt fate, Jules. I’m running on fumes this morning.”

  She laughed. “You’ve been doing that a lot recently, Katie. What’s the latest on your neighbor’s brother?”

  “Still missing,” I said. “And the circumstances got a bit more complicated.”

  She arranged the tins on the counter and began smearing the individual cups with sweet butter.

  “What’re you working on?” I asked.

  “Orange-cranberry muffins. I’ve already knocked off the raspberry-white chocolate scones and the coconut shortbread cookies.”

  I glanced at the prep list. Neat, slender lines were drawn through the first two entries and tiny checks had been added beside the next three.

  “What’s with the checkmarks?”

  She smiled, still concentrating on the tins. “Those can wait until tomorrow if we want. I did a quick inventory when I got here earlier. Based on the sales forecast sheet, weather report and throbbing knots in my calves, I think we have enough bacon-maple scones, peppermint swirl cookies and German chocolate cake pops for today.”

  It was barely five-fifteen. The sky in the east was shimmering with pale bands of blue and pink. And Julia was bright-eyed and perky.

  “What time did you come in?” I asked.

  “Three-thirty.” She gave me a quick smile. “I fell asleep on the sofa last night at eight watching a movie. My hubby covered me with a quilt and left me be. I woke up around two feeling really pumped and ready to go.”

  I plucked an apron from the linen drawer. “If I had half your energy, I’d be much happier.”

  “Did you go out last night?”

  “More or less,” I muttered, looping the apron around my waist. “But it wasn’t a romantic dinner with a handsome man. I drove down to Denver again for a couple of hours.”

  She stopped greasing the muffin tins. “Something to do with Viveca’s brother?”

  I nodded. “There were a couple of things I wanted to check on,” I explained. “Just in case they might help Viv find Tim.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to be found.”

  “I’ve considered that,” I said. “It’s kind of hard not to. I mean, the guy may act like a petulant child, but he is an adult. At this point, it’s impossible to know what he did or didn’t do. But if he’s involved with sketchy characters, there’s a chance he’s off the grid waiting for the heat to die down.”

  Julia snickered. “You sound like Olivia Benson on Law & Order.”

  “Or Miss Marple in one of Agatha Christie’s stories.”

  “No way,” Julia scoffed. “Miss Marple never used phrases like ‘truly sketchy characters’ or ‘off the grid.’”

  “Well, she would if she was still sleuthing.”

  We shared a laugh and then went on with the morning prep. We had less than two hours to get everything ready for another Sky High day. Since Julia arrived earlier than usual, it wouldn’t take us as long to tackle the baking chores, set up the kitchen for breakfast and make sure Harper had everything she needed in the dining room

  As I skittered around the room, measuring and mixing ingredients for a batch of Nana Reed’s Sunflower Seed Sandies, I thought about how lucky I was to have such a great team. When I inherited the bakery café from my parents, I wanted to stick as close as possible to the way they ran the business: one chef in the kitchen handling most of the baking and cooking; one server in the dining room juggling customer orders; and one or two others—in this case it was just myself—lending a hand whenever and wherever necessary during the morning and afternoon.

  After I stowed the cookie dough in the cooler so it could harden before being sliced, I walked over and twined one arm around Julia’s shoulders.

  “You know something, Jules?”

  “I know a lot of somethings,” she said with a wink. “Which one are you referring to?”

  “I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you,” I said.

  Her lips formed a silly grin. “Ah, that’s sweet, Katie. Is this the part where you tell me that I’m getting a raise?”

  I quickly withdrew the arm and slapped both hands on my hips. “You can’t put a price on appreciation and gratitude!”

  She blew a curtain of feathery bangs out of her eyes. “No, but you can put a price on trips to the orthodontist,” she said, starting to slice apples for a pie. “We found out yesterday afternoon that our oldest needs braces.”

  “But isn’t he nine?”

  She shrugged. “Nine going on twenty-two.”

  “That’s Will, right?”

  “Yes, Will’s nine. Shepherd is seven. And Emma’s five. If they all need braces, that’s going to be a cool twenty to forty thousand.”

  “Ouch,” I said, wincing. “Kids are expensive.”

  Julia laughed. “Life’s expensive, Katie. Did you see that the cost of a dozen eggs went up thirty or forty cents in the last month?”

  “I know,” I groaned. “I sat down to pay the bills the other day and just about fell out of my chair. Eggs are up. Milk is up. Coffee’s up.”

  “I bet your grandmother would roll over in her grave if she saw how much things cost these days.”

  I nodded. “When she started this place, a dozen eggs cost around seventy cents,” I said. “A gallon of gas was sixty cents. And a McDonald’s hamburger was thirty.”

  Julia stopped slicing apples. “Do you have all of that memorized or what?”

  “I found Nana Reed’s old ledgers when I was moving in upstairs,” I explained. “She was methodical about all of the paperwork, especially during the first few years that she ran Sky High. There were even a bunch of boxes in one of the closets stuffed with receipts from the first decade.”

  Julia giggled. “I never would’ve thought of her as a packrat. She was always so persnickety about the way she did her hair and how she dressed.”

  “Which is why both she and my mother were persnickety about how I did my hair,” I added. “And how I dressed.” I smiled at the memory. “At least until I was around eleven or twelve. Then they decided I was old enough to do my own thing.”

  “Or maybe it was because they realized how stubborn you are!”

  I shook my head, but didn’t take the bait. It was early. I was tired. And we had more work to do. I poured a cup of coffee and decided to start with banana-butterscotch-pecan muffins. They were a new addition to our roster. My sister had suggested the combination when she was in Crescent Creek to help during my first week at Sky High. I was skeptical, but it turned out Olivia was right. They had been a hot commodity and an early sell-out since we introduced them
the previous week.

  “Maybe we can talk about the pay increase,” I said as Julia hummed softly to herself.

  She dropped the apple she’d been peeling and spun around. “Oh, my gosh, Katie! I was joking!”

  “Well, I’m not. You’re my secret weapon, Jules. I literally could not do this without you.”

  “But you like to bake,” she said. “And you can make an omelet with your eyes closed.”

  “True, but then the eggs usually end up on the floor,” I said. “And this isn’t up for discussion. I happen to know that you’re earning the same salary that my parents offered when you first came to Sky High.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “I know, but it’s okay…” She looked away as her voice broke. “We’ll figure things out. I shouldn’t have made that joke about money.”

  “Yes, you should,” I said. “You should feel comfortable joking about anything around here.” I paused and thought about what I’d just offered. “Except, of course, my cellulite, the way my hair frizzes in the rain and how much weight I’ve gained since I came back to Crescent Creek.”

  CHAPTER 36

  Around three-thirty that afternoon, when Julia had gone home and the kitchen was spotless, I wandered into the dining room with my clipboard for a quick inventory of supplies. The last two customers sat talking over cappuccinos and slices of Toffee Tiramisu Tart as Harper gazed at her reflection on the back of a large stainless-steel pie server.

  I eased up beside her. “Recognize that face?”

  She moaned. “I look positively ancient, Kate.”

  “You look adorable,” I countered. “The new haircut is perfect. Those earrings are to die for. And the khakis flatter your figure nicely.”

  She gave me a mushy smile. “But what about these?” She pointed at the corner of one eye. “I swear that I did not have any wrinkles yesterday. And then, this morning—poof! My face looks like a Chinese Shar-Pei.”

  I gingerly took the pie server from her hand. “Okay, first of all, if you’re going to examine your appearance, try a real mirror.” She nodded, gently tugging the skin away from her eyes with both hands. “And, second, don’t freak out when you find a wrinkle. You should celebrate! Throw a party for the little bugger! It’s a sign of wisdom gained, memories made and laughs shared with friends and family.”

  “But I’m getting so old, Kate.”

  “Don’t you turn thirty this year?”

  She shook her head. “Last birthday I was thirty-one.” An impish smile blossomed on her face. “Although I feel like I’m closer to my Aunt Ida’s age.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Let’s just say it involves triple digits,” Harper mumbled. “And she could probably leave me in the dust if I challenged her to run around the block.”

  I laughed at the remark and dropped the serving utensil into a bus tub under the counter. Then I glanced at my clipboard to get back on track.

  “Okay, enough about me feeling pitiful,” Harper said. “I doubt if you came out here to talk about my wrinkly skin. Were you looking for something?”

  “Do you think we have enough placemats for the rest of the week?”

  She nodded.

  “How about order pads?”

  The nodding continued.

  “And the last thing is straws,” I said. “Do we need more?”

  “Nope,” Harper answered. “I found three extra boxes tucked inside a carton of paper towels in the back. We should be good until next week.”

  I felt a flicker of relief. The operating budget that had seemed reasonable when I took over from my parents was beginning to worry me. I hadn’t asked my mother or father yet, but I suspected that maybe their approach to accounting was more laissez-faire than mine. As the third generation of the Reed family to run Sky High Pies, I felt pressure to keep costs as low as possible without sacrificing quality. Between fretting about the cost of milk and eggs and worrying about Viveca’s brother, I felt the noose of anxiety slowly tightening around my neck.

  “Kate?” Harper asked, lightly touching my arm. “Did I lose you?”

  I swallowed the ripple of nerves and told her I was just thinking about all of the paperwork stacked on my desk.

  “I can finish up out here,” she suggested. “I’ll come and let you know when I’m leaving for the day.”

  “Thanks, gorgeous!” I gave her a little wink. “I’ll see you in a few.”

  After fixing a cup of herbal tea and grabbing one oatmeal raisin cookie, I headed for the office determined to either file or shred my way through at least one stack of invoices, order forms and spreadsheets. A half hour later, I was making good progress when an unexpected roadblock arose: my stomach growled loudly. I glanced at the empty plate, decided that a second cookie would be advisable and got up from my desk.

  “Oh, thank goodness!” Harper said, suddenly rushing through the door. “I was afraid you might be on the phone.”

  I held up the plate. “I’m just going for reinforcements,” I said. “Are you getting ready to leave?”

  She nodded. “I was, but then this guy started banging on the door.”

  The look on her face was more than a little familiar. It was the same flushed cheeks, unsteady grin and telltale twitch in her right eye that told the world Harper was anxious about something.

  “Who is it?”

  She shook her head and kneaded the hem of her apron with trembling fingers. “I don’t know, but he scared the stuffing out of me the way he banged on the door.”

  A million thoughts flashed through my mind as I hurried out of the office. When I came around the corner into the dining room, I saw Adam Caldwell reading the Sky High Pies menu. He glanced up at the sound of my footsteps and put the list of options back on the counter.

  “Afternoon, detective,” I said. “You finally made it to Crescent Creek!”

  He nodded and explained that he was having dinner with Trent and Dina to discuss a workshop they were presenting at an upcoming conference. Since Caldwell had never visited Crescent Creek and Dina had a late afternoon court appearance, they’d agreed to meet in our pastoral village instead of Denver.

  “What’s the topic for your presentation?” I asked.

  “Suspect interrogations,” he answered. “And we still need someone to play the perp in our demo, Kate. What do you think?” He paused to smile. “I bet you’d make a great test subject.”

  I shook my head. “I’ve got my hands full around here, but thanks for the compliment.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “If your hands really are full with the bakery, how do you find time to drive back and forth to Denver so often?”

  I squinted at him. “You keeping tabs on me, detective?”

  “Nope. But I know you’ve been there at least twice in the last few days.”

  I sighed. “Three times actually.”

  “See?” he exclaimed triumphantly. “I thought you were spending an awful lot of time away from home.”

  I didn’t feel like discussing my schedule with him, so I watched quietly as he pointed at the display case. “What’s that little guy right there?”

  “That’s a Cocoa Loco Cupcake,” I said. “It’s made with a hint of chili powder to spice things up a bit. Want one?”

  He patted his stomach. “My girlfriend told me to cut back on sugar.”

  “How about something to drink then?” I suggested. “I could make you a cappuccino.”

  “She told me to cut back on caffeine, too.”

  “Sounds like she’s looking out for your health, detective.”

  He scowled. “We’re going to her brother’s wedding next month. She wants me to be skinny and calm.”

  “And how’s that working out for you?”

  Caldwell laughed. “It’s the worst,” he complained. “I’m hungry all the time. And I’m learning to really loathe unleaded coffee.”

  I walked over to the cappuccino maker on the back counter. “We’ve got decaf espresso,” I told him. “I could hav
e one ready for you in a flash. You might like it better than what you’ve had so far.”

  “That’s okay, Kate. I appreciate the offer, but I just stopped by for a minute. I saw your place when I was driving past and thought I’d see if you were around.”

  We stood for a moment in silence until Harper suddenly appeared from the back. She was trying to balance a tray of Tequila Sunrise Mini Cheesecakes in one hand and adjust her purse with the other. I hurried over to lend a hand.

  “Don’t drop the precious cargo,” I said, adjusting the strap. “Bobby would not be happy if you show up with a bunch of crumbs and remnants.”

  She giggled. “I know, I know. I’m going to treat them like a newborn baby until I get home.”

  Caldwell nodded at Harper. “Thanks again for unlocking the door,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you by knocking so loudly.”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” Harper said, crossing the dining room. “I imagine my heartbeat will go back to normal at some point.” She giggled again. “You all have a good night. I’ll see you in the morning, Katie.”

  CHAPTER 37

  After Harper headed for home, I offered Detective Caldwell a decaf cappuccino again.

  “I’m okay,” he said. “But if you’ve got the time, could we sit down and talk for a few minutes?”

  I gestured at one of the nearby tables. “Is this okay?”

  Caldwell nodded, walked over and pulled out two chairs. I sat in one and waited while he got comfortable.

  “You’re being kind of mysterious all of a sudden,” I said as he glanced around the room. “What’s going on?”

  “I thought about calling you earlier,” he answered in a hushed tone. “But since I was coming up to meet with Trent and Dina, I decided to wait and talk to you face-to-face.”

  His mood had cooled from lighthearted to somber.

  “Talk about what?”

  “Viveca England’s brother,” he said. “I know you both think he’s innocent of any wrongdoing in the Delmar Singer case.”

  “That’s right,” I agreed. “I’ve never met him, but I trust Viveca implicitly.”