by Mary Maxwell
“Of course, we carry that line exclusively here in Crescent Creek,” Caroline said. “Since we only had two pairs in fuchsia, there’s not much of a chance that you’ll end up with the same present for the birthday girl.”
“True, but I was going to be in Denver this weekend,” I said. “I’m sure several stores down there would carry the wonderful under pants.”
“Wunder Under Pants!” she said, sounding perky and accommodating. “And you know what? I’m pretty sure that we still have them available in three colors—Peach Echo, Golden Honey and Berry Blaze.”
“Hmmm,” I cooed. “Those all sound delicious! Are they also edible?”
“Well…” Caroline hesitated. “I don’t think so, but they are super comfy!”
“Sorry about the lame joke,” I said. “I’ve been up since before dawn and fatigue is starting to take its toll.”
“That’s okay,” she replied. “Do you want me to double check on the other colors?”
“No, that’s not necessary. I’ll stop by again and take a look.”
“Sounds good,” Caroline said. “I’ll see you then!”
CHAPTER 12
The last table from lunch was lingering over slices of lemon meringue pie and steaming cups of coffee when Harper popped into the kitchen to tell me that Dina Kincaid was on the phone. After delivering the message, she went back out to start resetting the dining room for the next day.
“You’re pretty popular today,” Julia quipped. “Or are you in trouble with the law again?”
“Maybe she’s calling for my professional input,” I said. “She might want a second opinion about a case they’re working on.”
Julia rolled her eyes. “Or maybe Trent asked her to place another order for Ooey Gooey Butter Cake.”
“What do you mean another order? What happened to the one he picked up yesterday?”
She laughed. “From what I heard this morning, Deputy Chief Walsh got the munchies late last night when they were waiting for some important results to come back from the crime lab.”
“And what?” I smiled. “They all ate a couple of slices apiece?”
Julia shook her head. “Trent took care of the whole thing.”
“Who told you that?” I asked. “Tyler Armstrong?”
“Nope.”
“Amanda Crane?”
She smiled. “I’d like to plead the Fifth, Katie. I shouldn’t have said anything in the first place.”
“Don’t sweat it,” I said. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“It’s kind of a compliment to your grandmother’s recipe,” Julia said. “I mean, have you ever heard of anyone eating an entire Ooey Gooey Butter Cake in one sitting?”
“I have actually.”
“Oh,” she said. “Who was it?”
“Who do you think?”
“Deputy Chief Walsh?”
I laughed. “Yep! When we were in high school, Trent came by to see if I was helping Nana Reed in the kitchen. I was still at soccer practice, so he sat down to wait. She offered him a slice of Ooey Gooey Butter Cake and went into the dining room to help my mother move tables around. By the time she got back to the kitchen, he’d polished off the entire thing by himself!”
We were laughing about Trent’s insatiable appetite when Harper called to me through the pass window again.
“Are you going to talk to Dina?” she asked. “Or should I—”
“Oh, I’m sorry! Jules and I got to talking.”
“You don’t say?” Harper made a face. “That’s something that’s never, ever happened before.”
“Is she still on hold?” I asked.
“Line two,” Harper said before returning to the dining room.
“Be right back, Jules,” I shouted over my shoulder as I raced for the phone in my office. “This won’t take but a second or two!”
By the time I picked up the receiver and punched the blinking button, Dina had put the call on hold from her end. I listened to a recording about traffic safety. Then another about seat belt safety. And then a third one covering recent changes to the speed limit on three major roadways in the area. By the time the traffic safety message started again, I was wondering how much longer I could stay on hold when I heard a soft click and then Dina’s voice.
“Sorry, Katie! I had another call about a pressing matter.”
“That’s okay, detective. How’s your day going?”
“It’s fine,” she said. “How about yours?”
“Pretty typical, so far. Julia’s cooking, I’m making progress on special orders and Harper’s keeping things under control in the dining room.”
“That’s great,” she said. “I’m calling because Trent wanted me to pass along some info on that license plate you gave him the other day.”
“Thank you,” I said. “And please give my thanks to Trent as well. What did he find out?”
“Well, the plate you asked about—the one from Pennsylvania?”
“Yes?”
“That car was reported stolen from an apartment complex in Denver about three days ago,” Dina said. “Trent got a hit when he checked the database. I guess he also called the PD down there to confirm the report and see if they had anything more on the situation.”
“Did they?”
“Not much to it,” Dina answered. “The owner is a man named Raymond Block. He moved from Philly to Denver about eight months ago.”
“Sounds like he missed the ninety-day rule, huh?”
Dina laughed. “It wasn’t the first time,” she said. “And I bet that it won’t be the last. He claimed that he hadn’t registered and tagged the car yet due to some financial issues.”
“Okay, so I guess learning that he’d have to pay a late registration fee was like adding insult to injury after the car was stolen.”
“More or less,” she agreed. “According to Trent’s contact at the Denver PD, Mr. Block also told the responding officers that he knew who took the car.”
“Well, that’s helpful. Who was it?”
“Rex Greer,” said Dina. “Isn’t that the guy you told Trent about?”
“One and the same. What’s the latest on the car?”
“Stephen Castle was driving past Java & Juice,” Dina said. “He’d heard the BOLO and recognized the tags.”
I nodded. “And did you guys tow it?”
“We did indeed,” she answered. “Which means more bad news for Raymond Block. Not only does he have to pay the late registration fee and the cost of buying tags for his car, but he now also owes the Crescent Creek Police Department two-hundred and fifty dollars to get it out of the impound lot.”
“Poor guy.”
Dina scoffed. “I don’t know about poor,” she said, “but he’s not very smart.”
“Because he didn’t register it within the first three months?”
“No,” she answered. “Because he loaned it to someone with a conviction for car theft.”
“Rex Greer?”
“One and the same,” she said again with a faint laugh. “Based on the information that Mr. Block provided to the Denver PD, his buddy has been in and out of hot water since he was fifteen. The responding officers also confirmed Rex’s history with the authorities in Philadelphia.”
“Did you see his arrest record?” I asked.
“I haven’t actually seen it, but I heard a few of the highlights,” Dina said. “Beginning with the fact that Greer recently spent time behind bars for grand theft auto in Pennsylvania.”
“How long has he been out?” I asked.
“Maybe a few weeks.”
“And now he’s gone right back to his old ways.”
“It sure looks like it,” she agreed. “But we won’t know for certain until we find the little goofball and get his side of the story.”
CHAPTER 13
Zack and I were curled up on his sofa beneath a down comforter by nine o’clock that night. After the mouthwatering meal he’d prepared and two glasses of merlot, my e
yes were starting to droop when I heard the unmistakable bray of my phone in the kitchen.
“Want me to go?” Zack mumbled.
“No, handsome,” I said, shimmying out from the warm cocoon. “I’ll be right back.”
I went into the next room and checked the display on the screen.
“Hmmm,” I said, reading Trent’s name and mobile number. “Maybe I should let this go to—”
The phone vibrated as Dina Kincaid called on the second line. If they were both trying to reach me at the same time, it was obviously important. I decided to talk to Trent first, and check in with Dina later.
“What took you so long?” he barked as soon as I answered.
“Well, good evening to you, too,” I said with as much cheerfulness as I could manage. “To what do I owe the honor of your call?”
“We found a friend of yours downtown earlier tonight,” he said quickly. “He had a pretty nasty gash on the back of his head and a deep laceration to his torso. Looks like he sustained both injuries when he fell into the decorative wrought iron fence in front of the post office.”
The unexpected announcement left me flabbergasted. Trent took the opportunity to answer a few of the more obvious questions.
“On second thought,” he said, “‘friend’ is probably the wrong word. I should’ve said that we found someone bleeding and semi-conscious on the sidewalk with your phone number written on the palm of his hand.”
“Who is it?” I asked, feeling almost certain that I already knew the answer.
“That Rex guy,” answered Trent. “Besides the loss of blood, he seemed pretty confused. Amanda Crane was first on the scene. She said Greer claimed someone tried to electrocute him with a plastic gun before he started asking for you.”
“Electrocute him?”
Trent laughed. “Taser, Katie. The guy got zapped pretty good.”
“Where is he now?”
“Regional Med Center,” Trent said. “He’s doing okay, but Dr. Lansing wants him to stay for a couple of days just to make sure there are no complications from the surgery.”
“He had surgery?”
Trent grunted. “Your ears working okay, Katie? The injury to his midsection was pretty deep. They had to go in and do a little housekeeping.”
“Okay, thanks. I was just trying to—”
“What?” he rumbled. “Give me grief?”
“No,” I said, ignoring his self-indulgent snit. “I wanted to make sure that I was getting it right.”
“Okay, sure,” Trent said. “And I’m sorry for my grouchiness. I was doing some work on the bathroom remodel at home this afternoon and mistook my thumb for a nail.”
“How bad is it?”
“Nothing I can’t handle, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
“It’s okay, big guy. I accept the apology.”
He laughed. “Well, that’s a relief.”
“Okay, so…Rex Greer? Do you know what happened?”
“Not yet,” Trent said. “They pumped him full of silly sauce for the pain. I’ve got Stephen Castle parked outside Greer’s hospital room for the night. Just to make sure that we cover all the bases.”
“You think someone’s out to get him?”
“I’m not taking any chances,” Trent answered. “Some of what the guy was mumbling in the ambulance sounded pretty wacko, but he’s in protective custody just to be on the safe side. He was talking about a diamond heist and blackmail scheme along with a bunch of random nonsense about his brother.”
“I’ve heard a few things about Theo,” I said. “But all the rest is new.”
Trent grunted. “New? Old? It’s all a jumble until he’s able to speak in complete sentences.”
“The same can be said for me some days,” I teased.
“Yeah, I know,” Trent said. “But, anyway, he asked us to call you.”
“Rex did?”
“He wants to see you,” Trent said. “But it’s getting late and I’m sure you had a long day. Don’t feel bad if you want to skip it.”
“That’s okay. I can go by for a few minutes on the way home.”
“You still at Zack’s?” Trent asked.
“I am.”
“How was dinner?” he said.
I hesitated for a moment. “How’d you know that I was coming over for dinner?”
“Julia told me,” Trent said. “I was at the drug store buying hydrogen peroxide and bandages for my thumb.”
“Gotcha. It’s good to know that you’re taking care of that injury instead of leaving it to fate.”
“Oh, I didn’t take care of it,” he said. “When she saw the damage, Julia offered to fix me up right there in the parking lot.”
“How lovely,” I said. “I’m glad that her membership in the Florence Nightingale League is still valid.”
He chuckled. “Is that a real thing?”
“It is in my mind,” I said.
He grunted like a caveman again, but didn’t follow it up with anything intelligible.
“Okay, then,” I said after a few moments of silence. “I’ll swing by in a little while and see if Rex is awake.”
“Sounds good. Let me know if he gives you anything that we can use.”
“What do you have so far?” I asked.
“I’ve pretty much told you already,” Trent said. “We got a 911 call a few minutes after seven about an injured man on the sidewalk in front of the post office. Amanda Crane was a couple of blocks away, so she drove over and found Greer propped against the side of the building with blood everywhere and your number written on his hand.”
“Did he have his backpack?”
Trent mumbled something.
“What was that?” I asked.
“How well do you know this guy, Katie?”
“He came by Sky High yesterday and again this morning,” I explained. “There was a blue backpack over his shoulder both times.”
“Do you know where he’s from?” Trent asked.
“I’m thinking Philadelphia,” I answered. “He’s here in Colorado trying to find his missing brother.”
“Does Rex think he was in Crescent Creek?”
“He doesn’t think it,” I said. “He knows it. Rex’s brother took a selfie last week on the front porch at Sky High.”
“I hate that word,” Trent grumbled.
“Which one—selfie?”
“Yeah. It makes me think of all those self-obsessed Hollywood types.”
“Or my sister,” I said. “And Blanche Speltzer. And Homer Figg. And about ten gazillion other people in town.”
“Are you telling me that they go around taking pictures of themselves?”
“Yes, but so do a lot of people all around the world. It’s not just a celebrity thing.”
“Well, I still hate the word,” he said.
“Duly noted,” I offered. “Now, can we get back to Rex Greer? You said that Amanda found him with a couple of lacerations, but his backpack was gone?”
“I don’t know about the bag,” Trent said. “And he didn’t tell her much because the paramedics got there about five seconds later and started treating his injuries.”
“Is that it?”
“That’s all I know so far, Katie. If you do go by the hospital, make sure—”
“I know, I know! Make sure I pass along anything relevant that Rex says.”
Trent laughed. “Yeah, that’d be nice,” he said. “But I was going to say that you should definitely check out the butterscotch squares in the cafeteria. I grabbed a couple earlier and they’re delicious!”
“Thanks for the tip,” I said. “And take care—”
The phone squealed as Trent hung up.
“—of that thumb,” I said, finishing the thought.
CHAPTER 14
Rex Greer was propped up in bed against a mountain of pillows when I peeked into his hospital room around ten o’clock. He was sipping from a white cup and staring blankly at the television mounted on the wall. I knocked
gingerly on the door and waited.
“Hey, it’s you,” he said with a drowsy twang. “What are you doing here?”
I took a few tentative steps closer. Stephen Castle from the Crescent Creek PD was just outside the door, but I still wanted to approach Rex carefully. He’d been agitated when we talked at Sky High earlier in the day, and I had no idea what the medication and post-surgery haze might do to the raging thoughts about his brother.
“I heard that you wanted me to stop by,” I said.
“Oh, yeah.” Rex’s voice was garbled and soggy. “That’s right.”
I motioned at the plastic chair beside his bed. “Do you mind if I sit?”
“Sure,” he said. “Make yourself at home. I’m going to be here for a couple of days, so I’m pretending it’s my new apartment.”
I smiled and nodded at the flat screen on the wall. “Looks like the guy was already by to install your cable.”
The limp joke was lost on Rex. His mouth squirmed left and then right as he tried to understand the meaning. When he finally asked me to explain, I apologized for the weak attempt at humor.
“Oh, that was supposed to be funny?” he said.
I shrugged, moved the chair so I would have an unobstructed view of his face and sat down.
“It was, but let’s not worry about it.”
“Then I don’t understand,” he said. “The TV was here when I woke up.”
“I know, Rex. It’s my fault; the joke related to your comment about pretending this is your new apartment.”
His eyes slowly expanded and a smile appeared. “Oh, now I get it!” He laughed for a few seconds, but then winced and reached for his left side. “But don’t tell me anything else funny. It hurts too much.”
“Then maybe I should go,” I suggested. “I can come back tomorrow afternoon.”
“That’s okay,” Rex said. “I really just wanted to see a friendly face.”
“I hope you mean me,” I said with a light smile.
He rolled his eyes. “Who else?”
“Well, I can see that you’re hurting quite a lot. I won’t stay but a minute.”
He nodded slowly. “It just feels like someone’s pushing and pulling on my side all at once. The doctor and nurses said it’s only a matter of time before I’m back to normal.”