Fatal Fête in Cherry Hills

by Paige Sleuth

Frieda leaped to her feet and linked elbows with Marigold. Both sisters wore identical expressions of disapproval. Even with tears staining Frieda’s cheeks and a combined weight that was still no match for their brother’s, the pair looked like a force to be reckoned with. And, judging by the line of sweat popping out on his forehead, Chief Kenny thought so too.

  A well-built Hispanic man rushed over to the police chief. “What can I do, Chief?”

  Chief Kenny clapped the man on the shoulder, relief washing over his face. He positioned himself to better face the crowd, using the man as a sort of shield as he maneuvered around his sisters and turned his back on their twin glares. “All righty, folks, listen up. This here is Officer Raoul Leon. He’s gonna be taking your statements in the kitchen. Individually. Nobody’s allowed to leave the premises until Officer Leon gives you the go-ahead. Got it?”

  Raoul straightened, his chest puffing out so much he nearly doubled in size.

  “What about Andrew?” Kat asked Chief Kenny. “Why isn’t he interviewing us?”

  “Detective Milhone will be in charge of supervising the crime scene technicians,” Chief Kenny said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Normally that would be my role, but I’m gonna step aside on this one.”

  Frieda whipped toward him, causing Marigold, who still had her arm hooked through Frieda’s, to almost lose her balance.

  “Step aside?” Frieda said, lurching toward the police chief. “Why?”

  He squeezed her arm. “I’m too close to this one, babe. With Landon being my brother-in-law, it would be a conflict of interest for me to lead this investigation.”

  “But you’re the most experienced cop here!” Frieda’s gaze skirted toward Raoul. She didn’t look impressed. “Is anyone else on the Cherry Hills force even qualified to handle a murder?”

  Kat stepped forward, prepared to snap out a retort in Andrew’s defense, but Chief Kenny spoke before she could.

  “Detective Milhone is top notch,” he said. “And Officer Leon here is one of the smartest guys on my force. They’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  Frieda’s face turned red as she swiveled her gaze between Chief Kenny and Raoul Leon. If looks could kill, the Cherry Hills Police Department would have just lost two of their finest.

  Raoul beckoned Frieda over with a wave of his arm. “Ma’am, if you’ll follow me, I’ll get this process started.”

  Frieda scowled at Chief Kenny before trudging after Raoul. The police chief averted his eyes, almost as if he were afraid of his sister.

  Kat jolted, that thought leading to another. Was it possible the police chief had removed himself from this case not because of his relationship to the deceased, but because of his relationship to Frieda?

  Did Chief Kenny believe his sister had been the one to take her husband’s life?

  CHAPTER THREE

  Raoul seemed to be taking forever to get through the witness interviews. Anxious for her turn, Kat had started timing them. His questioning of one of the caterers was going on twenty minutes now.

  “Hey, Kat.”

  Kat turned to see Sam Easton, the owner of Easton’s Eats standing next to her. “Hi, Sam.”

  He jutted his chin toward the kitchen. “Deirdre still in there?” Although there wasn’t a door to the kitchen, Raoul had roped off enough of a buffer zone to prevent curious onlookers from seeing or hearing anything that went on inside.

  “Your server? Yes,” Kat replied.

  He sighed. “Poor girl. I hope he’s not giving her the third degree. She wasn’t even going to work this event, but Rich fell ill at the last minute.”

  Kat figured Rich must be one of Sam’s employees. “Have you been interviewed yet?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I’m just waiting for Deirdre before I take off. I’m her ride.” Sam looked around. “Have you seen Imogene anywhere?”

  “She went upstairs to lie down.” Imogene hadn’t looked well after Raoul had finished questioning her. Kat had been itching to ask how things had gone, but her friend had shaken her head before saying she didn’t have the strength to talk about it now.

  “Huh.” Sam dropped his gaze to the piece of paper in his hands, then brought it up for Kat to see. “I was going to give her my invoice, but she probably doesn’t want to be bothered.”

  Kat took the page from him, her eyes hovering over the colorful logo in the top left corner. Under different circumstances, the jaunty fruit basket sporting two grape eyes, a banana smile, and a pineapple hairdo while brandishing a knife and fork in its two stubby raspberry-hands would have made her smile, but the somber atmosphere of the house doused any amusement she might ordinarily find in a silly cartoon.

  “Do you need the money now?” she asked.

  “Nah. Imogene was going to write me a check after the party ended, but with everything that went down this evening . . .”

  “Right.” Kat’s stomach clenched at the reminder. “I can give this to her later, if you’d like.”

  “Thanks. I didn’t want to leave it lying around.”

  Deirdre stumbled out of the kitchen then. Her red eyes and puffy face made it clear she’d been crying.

  “Deirdre.” Sam took a step toward her.

  She let out a sob as she collapsed into his arms. “This is so awful.”

  Sam patted her on the back. “I know. But don’t fret over it. The police will catch whoever did this.”

  “Were you able to help them at all?” Kat asked Deirdre, eager to hear whether the police had unearthed any leads yet.

  But Deirdre only shook her head. She tried to smooth out the crumpled tissue in her hand before using it to swipe at her tears. Kat could see her fingers trembling.

  Deirdre tilted her head back and gazed up at Sam. “Can we go now?”

  “Yes, of course.” Sam turned toward Kat. “I still have some stuff in the kitchen. Could you tell Imogene I’ll come back for it later this week?”

  Kat nodded. “Sure.”

  “Thanks, Kat.” He offered her a lopsided smile before wrapping an arm around Deirdre’s shoulders and guiding her through the crowd that had been slowly dwindling as Raoul concluded his interviews. He looked relieved to finally be out of there.

  Kat knew exactly how he felt. She checked the time on her cell phone and sighed. How long was it going to be before Raoul called her in, anyway? Andrew’s interviews never took this long.

  Of course, Andrew was a more experienced detective, Kat reminded herself. Perhaps Raoul was still getting a feel for the process. She would just have to be patient.

  Raoul poked his head out of the kitchen. His eyes homed in on her, and he summoned her with a crooked forefinger. “Come with me, please.”

  Kat exhaled, nearly tripping over her feet in her haste. “Finally.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “I mean, yes, Officer Leon, I’m on my way,” Kat amended, forcing herself not to look too keen to get this over with.

  It didn’t take long for Kat to see why the interviews were taking so long. Raoul seemed to think being a good detective meant asking so many questions that eventually a person couldn’t help but trip up over something. After instructing her to walk through every little thing she’d done since stepping through Imogene’s front door, he posed a series of questions that merely rehashed what she’d already told him. The whole process left her itching to tear her own hair out.

  “Let me get this straight,” Raoul said thirty, excruciating minutes into their session. “You had never met Landon Tabernathy before this evening?”

  “No,” Kat replied curtly, silently adding, For the fifth time, no.

  “Hmm.” Raoul paced from the refrigerator to the sink and back again, pausing to shoot her a sidelong glance every third step.

  Kat squelched an eye roll. “What about you?” she asked. “Did you know him?”

  He came to an abrupt halt and squared his shoulders. “I’m the one doing the questioning here.”

  Kat’s patience snapped. “You’ve
made that quite clear by rephrasing the same five questions a million different ways. But that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have any answers.”

  Raoul regarded her for a moment that stretched into one minute, then two. She met his assessing gaze with one of her own. She’d had enough, and she wasn’t going to let him intimidate her into feeling less worthy for not having any useful information to share. She couldn’t help what she’d seen—or not seen—and she refused to feel guilty about it.

  Finally, he gave a slight nod and tucked his notebook in his breast pocket. “All right then,” he said. “In that case, we’re done here. But I want to be the first person you call if you remember anything later.” He yanked a business card out of his breast pocket and snapped it between his fingers before holding it out to her.

  She took it. “Of course.” With great restraint, she managed not to break into a run as she hurried across the kitchen.

  “Wait!”

  Raoul’s shout halted her in her tracks.

  “One final word before I let you go,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Stay out of this.”

  She frowned. “What?”

  Raoul leaned against the counter, but he didn’t look the least bit relaxed. “I know you have a reputation around town for attracting crime. Wherever you go, trouble seems to follow.”

  Kat bristled. “That’s hardly my fault.”

  “Either way, you need to leave the investigating to the police.”

  “I plan to.” Then, simply because she couldn’t resist the barb, she added, “I have complete faith in Detective Milhone’s ability to get to the bottom of this.”

  Raoul’s eyes darkened.

  “He’s the most competent policeman I’ve ever met,” she went on. She wasn’t sure why she was so intent on needling Raoul. Evidently she was more sensitive than she’d thought to insinuations that she might have had something to do with the previous crimes she’d found herself involved in.

  “That he is,” Raoul said, his voice clipped. “But just because the two of you are swapping spit, don’t think that gives you a pass to butt into police business.”

  Kat’s face reddened. “You’re way—”

  “My original point remains,” Raoul barked, cutting her off. “You should trust me—the police—to handle this investigation. In that spirit, I expect this will be our last time chatting about Mr. Tabernathy’s passing.” He regarded her down the length of his nose. “Unless, of course, you’re guilty.”

  Kat gritted her teeth, but she didn’t say anything, telling herself that he was merely doing his job.

  After all, she might not be guilty, but someone at this party sure was.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Thank you for inviting me over,” Imogene said, bursting through Kat’s front door.

  “No problem.” Although, Kat hadn’t extended an invitation so much as Imogene had wheedled one out of her. Imogene had phoned her not three minutes after she’d left the party, lamenting over how her home was now a crime scene and how the taint of a murder had rendered her incapable of drawing air into her lungs, leaving her in danger of suffocating if she didn’t get out of there soon. After that, how could Kat not offer up her home as a temporary refuge?

  Imogene slumped onto one sofa. Matty, Kat’s tortoiseshell, crooked one eye at their visitor, a silent reprimand for Imogene’s failure to seat herself delicately upon the couch that Matty thought of as her own. But Matty wasn’t one to hold a grudge. Before long, the yellow-and-brown feline allowed her eyelids to droop closed once again.

  “I asked Raoul when he expects to leave, and he said he intended to stay for as long as it takes.” Imogene huffed. “As long as it takes! What does he plan to do, move into my guest room?”

  “I’m sure he’s anxious to nab Landon’s killer,” Kat said, doing her best to see things from Raoul Leon’s angle, even if he had rubbed her the wrong way during her interview.

  Imogene crossed her legs. “Yes, well, I just can’t bear the thought of slipping into my pj’s when he’s mucking around downstairs looking for detritus a murderer might have left behind.”

  “What does he think he might find?”

  Imogene threw her hands up, the sudden gesture causing Matty to startle. “Who knows?”

  Matty’s nose twitched in disapproval before she stretched her front legs out and settled back down.

  Imogene scooted closer to Matty and rested her hand on the cat’s back. “I just can’t abide the notion of a murderer leaving things in my house. Can you imagine the nerve?”

  “Raoul might have been referring to DNA or something microscopic,” Kat pointed out, sitting down on the opposite sofa.

  Imogene traced her finger along the pattern in Matty’s fur. “I suppose that’s true.” She straightened. “But still! How am I ever going to relax in my own home again?”

  The faint sounds of a cat scratching in litter became evident in the silence that fell then. Since Matty was out here, Kat knew the culprit had to be Tom.

  No sooner had that thought entered her mind when the black-and-brown cat in question came tearing down the hallway as swiftly as if he’d unearthed a mouse while rearranging the contents of the litter pan. He zoomed straight toward the cat tree by the window, a few stray pieces of litter landing on Kat’s feet as he kicked up his paws. Upon reaching his destination, he clawed at one of the sisal posts before spinning around with a crazed look in his eyes and bounding off into the kitchen.

  Kat grinned. It wasn’t unusual for Tom to act out after a trip to the bathroom. Apparently covering up one’s business had some invigorating properties not found when flushing an ordinary toilet.

  Imogene watched the cat without so much as a smile, clearly preoccupied by other matters. “I’ll tell you,” she said, “if Kenny were the one investigating Landon’s murder, he would have been out of my house by now.”

  “You can’t expect Raoul to work as fast as Chief Kenny or Andrew. He’s used to writing traffic tickets, not hunting down murderers.”

  “Hrrmph.” Imogene looked at Matty as if the feline might offer her the support she had expected to receive from Kat. “I don’t like that Kenny isn’t taking the lead on this.”

  “He doesn’t want there to be any sense of impropriety, given his conflict of interest.”

  Imogene flicked her wrist. “Disliking Landon wouldn’t stop Kenny from throwing his heart and soul into that investigation.”

  Kat perked up. “Chief Kenny didn’t like Landon?” This was the first time she’d heard of any friction between the two.

  Imogene flushed, but she was spared from responding immediately when Tom came running back into the room. Upon spotting Imogene, his green eyes lit up and he meowed his way over to her. Imogene reached down to pet him, but she moved with a stiffness that betrayed her discomfort.

  “What was Chief Kenny’s beef with Landon?” Kat pressed, unwilling to let Imogene off the hook so easily.

  “Oh, nothing unusual.” Imogene kept her eyes trained on Tom. “He simply never warmed to him.”

  “Huh.” Kat had to wonder just how much the police chief had disliked his brother-in-law. Enough to commit murder?

  Imogene brought her gaze up to meet Kat’s. “You’re not thinking Kenny had anything to do with Landon’s death, are you?”

  Imogene’s tone made it clear the question was one of Kat’s loyalties more than anything else. “I sure hope not,” Kat replied carefully.

  Imogene scowled. “If you ask me, Raoul has more to gain from killing Landon than Kenny.”

  Kat blinked, unsure if she’d heard right. “Raoul Leon knew Landon Tabernathy?” If that were true, she had to wonder if Chief Kenny knew about their connection. She didn’t figure the police chief would have put the officer on the case if he did.

  “No,” Imogene said, doing her best to stroke Tom while he twined between her ankles, “but did you see how excited he was when Kenny put him in charge of questioning everyb
ody? He looked like he’d hit the lotto.”

  “He was probably happy to be tasked with something more intellectually stimulating than monitoring speed traps.”

  “Exactly.” Imogene looked triumphant as she gave Tom one last vigorous scratch between the ears before settling back against the couch. “Landon’s murder gives Raoul a chance to prove himself. He had to have known Kenny would remove himself from any investigation involving one of his own kin, even if they were only related by marriage. That means he’d either have to bring Raoul in to help or let Andrew flounder on his own.”

  Kat’s jaw clenched. “I doubt Andrew would have floundered.”

  Imogene either didn’t catch the bite in Kat’s tone or chose to ignore it. “It’s no secret Raoul wants to move up the ranks. And what better way to prove he’s worthy of a promotion than to solve a murder?”

  With Imogene no longer paying him any attention, Tom ambled over to Kat and jumped into her lap. She petted him as she considered Imogene’s words. Could there be some truth to what she was saying? Raoul had been awfully heavy-handed during her witness interview. And everyone at the Cherry Hills Police Department knew he was ambitious. Andrew had told her in the past that Raoul’s lack of a promotion so far had been more the result of a shortage of positions rather than because he wasn’t qualified. Maybe he figured if he could do a good job with the investigation into Landon’s death, Chief Kenny would have no choice but to make him a detective.

  “Of course,” Imogene said, “if Raoul wants to use this whole thing to showcase his detective skills, he has to actually find Landon’s killer.”

  A chill worked its way down Kat’s spine. Imogene was right. Raoul wouldn’t impress anyone if Landon’s murder went unsolved or he concluded things with his own guilty confession. That meant if he had orchestrated Landon’s death to give his career a boost, he fully intended to frame someone—someone innocent.

  And, given his comments in the kitchen, Kat feared the someone he had in his sights might very well be her.

  CHAPTER FIVE