Deadly Desserts (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 6)
Page 16
“What if you don’t know how toxic it is?” I said. “Or how much will be fatal?”
She shrugged, but didn’t say anything.
“If they weren’t familiar with cicutoxin, then maybe they were trying to scare Lacy.”
“To do what? Help them embezzle money from the bank? She was a mortgage loan officer, Katie. I don’t know if that would give her the keys to the kingdom.”
I shook my head. “What if they didn’t want her to start doing something?” I asked. “Instead, they wanted her to stop?”
“Oh, right,” Dina said. “Maybe they wanted to frighten Lacy so she’d stop seeing the married guy.”
CHAPTER 38
I’d been sitting in Nathaniel Craig’s office at Crescent Creek Bank for twenty minutes, listening to him talk on the phone with someone about the fine print on a business contract.
“Sorry about this, Miss Reed,” he whispered at one point. “It’ll only take another two shakes or so.”
When I’d called earlier in the day and the bank president accepted my request for a last-minute meeting, I’d hoped it would be a speedy conversation. Instead, as soon as I arrived and got comfortable in his office, the phone rang and he scooped it up without warning. I considered tiptoeing out into the lobby to give him privacy, but he saw me reach for my coat and motioned for me to stay seated.
“Well, now that couldn’t be avoided,” Craig said when he finished the call. “I do apologize, Miss Reed. Rudy Drexel handles legal matters for the bank, and we’ve been trying to finalize an important contract dispute.”
I smiled at the explanation. Rudy Drexel was a Friday morning regular at Sky High Pies, a short, round attorney with pudgy hands and a fondness for waffles smothered in butter, maple syrup and pecans.
“It’s no problem,” I said warmly. “I just appreciate that you could fit me in this afternoon.”
“Are you kidding me?” He pushed away from the desk, leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “How could I ever deny Audrey and Darren’s little girl?”
The smile on my face softened. “Oh, that’s too kind, Mr. Craig. I know you and my parents are good friends, but I—”
He interrupted with a hoarse laugh. “Your old dad probably never told you this, but he and I were going to be fraternity brothers at one point.”
I’d heard the story so many times that I could recite it verbatim. My father and Nathaniel Craig were high school classmates. They both enrolled at the same university in Texas, pledged the same fraternity and intended to study business and agriculture together. But then a freak skiing accident sent Craig to the hospital with two broken legs and no hope of sticking to his plans for college.
“Actually, I’ve heard the story,” I said, once again beaming at him like a studious pupil. “But I don’t want to take up too much of your time, so I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”
He sat forward in the chair. “Fire away! Are you here about a loan for Sky High? Maybe a line of credit to put an addition on the place?”
I felt my stomach quiver; I’d been vague on the phone earlier. The Sky High business accounts had been with Crescent Creek Bank since Nana Reed first opened the doors, so his questions were understandable. But I didn’t want to talk about a line of credit. And I didn’t want to discuss expanding the old Victorian.
“Can I ask you about the day that Lacy Orvane was poisoned?” I said, trying to sound as casual and carefree as possible.
“The day Lacy was…” The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. “I must say, Miss Reed. I don’t understand why you…I mean, I thought you wanted to talk about business matters. As in, Sky High business, not something the police are handling. Didn’t you leave all of that behind when you came back to Colorado?”
I wasn’t surprised by the remark. I’d heard it before since returning to my hometown after more than a decade in Chicago. Most people in Crescent Creek were aware of my previous experience as a private investigator. They also knew that I was good friends with everyone on the local police force, and had actually helped solve a couple of cases in an unofficial consulting capacity.
“You’re right, Mr. Craig,” I said as the crease in his forehead began to relax. “The police are handling the investigation. But I was there that afternoon. I held Lacy’s hand as we waited for the ambulance to arrive. So I feel sort of…invested in the situation. Deputy Chief Walsh and Detective Kincaid are both aware that I’m talking to a couple of people in town.”
“A couple of people?” he said. “Who else besides me?”
“I’d rather not say. I’m very discreet about these things, as I’m sure you can appreciate.”
He shook his head, frowning deeply. “I don’t know, Miss Reed. What would your parents say about this? How would they feel if they knew you were skulking around like some kind of amateur sleuth?”
“Actually,” I said with a smile, “my parents know that I’m intrigued by solving crimes and unraveling mysteries. They’re proud of the work I did in Chicago. And, although they may not completely understand, they support me in whatever I do.”
Craig sighed and shifted again in his chair. “Well, I don’t know…” He raised his hands, planted both elbows on the desk and formed a steeple with his long, slender fingers. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt, but I don’t have much time. We’re still working to resolve the contract issue, so my attorney will be calling again after he talks to the other party.”
“Thank you, Mr. Craig. I promise it won’t take more than a few minutes.”
He chuckled and dropped his chin onto the upturned fingers. “And I promise you that’s all I can spare, Miss Reed.”
“Okay,” I said, quickly retrieving my phone and tapping the screen. “I understand that you and Mr. Green both attended an off-site meeting the day that Lacy died. You were both at the Civic Center from…” I paused to check the notes I’d made earlier. “…uh, from ten-fifteen that morning until shortly after five that evening when Officer Amanda Crane from the Crescent Creek—”
“Yes, yes!” Craig said with a dark scowl. “Although I can’t understand what you find intriguing about something so routine. It was an annual meeting for the Chamber of Commerce.” He gave me a weary smile. “I’ve been involved for the past twenty years, and I invited Mr. Green to attend because there’s a very good chance he’ll succeed me as president of the bank some day down the road.”
“Wow! That’s a big endorsement, isn’t it?”
He raised both bushy gray eyebrows. “Well, I know talent and dedication when I see it, Miss Reed. Thomas Green is a go-getter; he’s loyal and committed and doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“Sounds like an exemplary employee,” I said.
Craig laughed again. “The consummate employee,” he said proudly. “Thomas Green is willing to take care of anything and everything—without question and without fail. Over the years, he’s run errands for me, picked up my dry cleaning, taken my car to the dealership for an oil change. Heavens, he even offered to call Pinky Newton’s shop this week and place my standing order for flowers when I was running late for a meeting. I’ve trained him well. In fact, that the other day when we were at the meeting, Green took it upon himself to hand deliver the revised contracts.”
“What do you mean?”
He grunted softly. “What do I mean? It’s quite simple; we were finalizing the latest round of revisions on the contract. The Chamber meeting was on a short recess, so Green and I had a conference call with our attorney. When we finished, I asked Thomas to call Speedy Messenger to deliver the documents to the client, but he insisted on doing it himself.”
I considered the reply. Then I said, “If I’m hearing you correctly, that means Mr. Green left the Civic Center to make a delivery on the afternoon that Lacy Orvane was poisoned.”
Craig smirked. “Aren’t you mixing metaphors, Miss Reed? Those two things took place on the same day, but they’re hardly related.”
“I’m just tryin
g to get an idea of what happened.”
He looked at his watch and the expression on his face suddenly changed. “Why are you bothering me with all of this? I’ve already given my statement to that detective…what’s her name? Kincaid? And I told her all about our utterly fascinating schedule; we went to the meeting, people got up and made presentations, I laughed at all of the same bad jokes Bill Schulte tells every year. And after the early afternoon recess, I sent Thomas Green to Prescott Insurance with the revised loan contract.”
When the gruff banker stopped to wipe his forehead, the last statement seemed to echo through the office. That’s very interesting. I thought. It seems that Mr. Green may have been less than forthcoming about his whereabouts the day that—
“Are we finished, Miss Reed?” Nathaniel Craig snapped. “Because I’ve got a business to run here. And I believe that you do as well.”
I gathered my coat and purse, getting out of the chair at the same time that the banker stood behind his desk.
“I’m sorry to be short with you,” he said, coming around to shake my hand. “But I really don’t see how repeating the same dreary facts over and over can possibly bring Miss Orvane back from the grave.”
I nodded and thanked him again for the meeting. Then I left his office, hurried across the bank lobby and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
“It can’t bring her back from the grave,” I whispered to myself. “But it may help explain who put her there.”
CHAPTER 39
Trent Walsh was at the desk in his office, scowling at a stack of case files, when I arrived a half hour after leaving Nathaniel Craig’s office. An open bag of potato chips and can of Diet Coke sat beside the stack of documents he was studying. I stood in the hallway for a few seconds before knocking on the door.
“Deputy Chief Walsh?”
His eyes flicked from the desk to me and then back again. “You coming in, Katie? Or are you going to loiter out there all day?”
I walked through the door, cleared a pile of folders from one of the guest chairs and sat across from him.
“What’s up?” he asked, glancing down at his paperwork.
“Oh, you know how it goes,” I said casually. “Time on my hands. In the neighborhood. Nothing better to do.”
He looked up again, both eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a rigid frown. “I’m working here, Katie. I’ve been gone for a few days, so I’m trying to catch up.”
I smiled, but didn’t say anything. I could tell he wasn’t finished.
“Did you have something to discuss with me?” he asked eventually. “Or are you here to impede our justice system with some kind of—”
“I’ve got a theory,” I interrupted. “About Lacy Orvane’s death.”
His face relaxed. “Is that right?”
“I think I know who put the poison in the chocolate-dipped strawberries and all of the other desserts and snacks,” I announced. “And I’m pretty sure that I know why.”
“Are you telling me that you know who’s responsible for Lacy’s death?”
“Well, I have a theory.”
He smiled. “Do you want to share it with the class?”
I looked around the empty office. “There’s nobody here but me and the mean boy who isn’t being very nice.”
“Not funny,” Trent grumbled. “But I guess it’s deserved. I need to learn to be more accommodating when I’m on the job.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Deputy Chief Walsh. Couldn’t we all do better?”
“Suppose so,” he said, guzzling the rest of his Diet Coke. “And I should also try to do a better job with my nutrition. I’ve got to stop eating and drinking so much junk.”
He crumpled the can, drew back his arm and sent it sailing across the office. It landed on the edge of the blue plastic recycle container, teetering briefly before tumbling to the floor. I got up from my chair, grabbed the can and dropped it into the bin.
“Thanks,” he said, sitting back in the chair. “And I’m all ears, Katie. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
I got comfortable in the guest chair again and launched into a streamlined review of my theory. I reminded him of everyone who had attended the Food & Wine Festival meeting on the afternoon that Lacy was poisoned. I reviewed all of the people that I’d talked with during the past few days. I shared the results of Tyler Armstrong’s visit to Horsetooth Reservoir. And then I delivered the conclusion of my theory by revealing the identity of the two conspirators I felt were responsible for the death of our friend.
“Holy cow,” Trent said a moment or two later. “That sounds like a pretty solid theory, Katie.”
“And it actually dovetails nicely with Dina’s investigation,” I said. “She and I have been comparing notes while you were away from the office. Between the results of the toxicology tests, interviews with a couple of key witnesses, the information Tyler gleaned from the manager at Inlet Bay Marina and the things that I’ve uncovered in the last twenty-four hours, I’d say we’ve got a slam dunk.”
With a playful wink, Trent grabbed a paper napkin from the stack on his desk. He crumpled it into a tight ball, got up from his chair and sent it flying. If the wadded paper had been a basketball and he was on a hardwood court, the resulting sound would’ve been a victorious swoosh.
“Nicely done, Deputy Chief!”
He shrugged. “What can I tell you, Katie? Kobe and I are pretty evenly matched from the free-throw line.”
“Kobe Bryant?” I smiled.
Trent lifted his chin. “Twin sons,” he said. “Different mothers.”
I pushed up from the chair. “Okay, sure. Your skills on the court are so similar to Kobe Bryant’s, it’s a wonder you weren’t in Los Angeles all those years playing right by his side instead of working for the Crescent Creek PD.”
“I don’t disagree,” he boasted. “But my place is here, Katie.”
There was nothing left to say, so I simply smiled and nodded. Then I asked Trent if he was available to meet Dina and I later that evening at The Wagon Wheel.
“What’s this?” he asked with a smile. “You’re buying me a beer?”
“Not exactly,” I said. “We need your help in catching the two people who are responsible for Lacy’s death.”
“At a bar?”
“Yes,” I said. “And I talked to Dina earlier this afternoon; we’re all set to meet at seven o’clock tonight.”
Trent smirked. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because if what you’ve just told me is true, both of those people are loose cannons. What’s to stop one of them from slipping some of that water hemlock stuff into your drink?”
“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “Will you help Dina and I do this or not?”
I watched his nose twitch and his fingers tap nervously on the desktop. Since we’d been friends for years, I knew the twitching and tapping were habitual tics that accompanied his decision-making process. I smiled faintly and checked email on my phone while he contemplated the request.
“Tell you what,” he said finally. “I’ll have a couple of uniformed officers go pick them both up right now. It sounds like we should at least interview them again about what happened.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. If they see a patrol car pull up outside, there’s a very good chance they’ll do something drastic.”
“Such as?”
“Don’t make me say it, Trent. You know what I’m talking about.”
“I’ve got no problem saying it, Katie. You think they’ll try to…” He stopped when he saw the look on my face. “That they’ll try to hurt themselves,” he continued, “or someone else?”
“Yes,” I agreed. “Right now, they probably think they got away with it. But I’m pretty sure that they’re both also in a very fragile state. On the outside, they’re upbeat and confident, but there’s a powder keg just below the surface and it’s got a very short fuse.”
“Thank you!” I said. “I’m really glad you’re in agreement on this, Trent.”
He held up one hand. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I trust you and I trust Dina. Just tell me what you’re planning so I know what to expect.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “But first, I need to ask you the most important question of all.”
He smiled. “Go ahead, Katie.”
“Would you feel more comfortable wearing a dress, wig and high heels?” I asked. “Or a clown costume with big floppy shoes?”
CHAPTER 40
Red Hancock listened carefully as I explained that I wanted to reserve two booths at The Wagon Wheel for seven o’clock that night. After finishing with Trent at the Crescent Creek PD, I’d quickly called the handful of special guests, secured commitments from all five and then rushed over to the popular watering hole to reserve the back-to-back booths.
“I just woke up from a little power nap in the office,” said the brawny bartender, scratching his head. “What was that again?”
“We want to reserve the last booths over there.” I pointed across the room. “The two between the kitchen door and the jukebox. Dina, myself and three CCPD officers will be here a few minutes before seven; the others will arrive shortly after that.”
“But that’s two hours from now,” Red said groggily.
“I know. This is all coming together pretty quickly.”
When I finished, he scribbled something on the palm of one hand with the Sharpie he usually kept tucked behind his ear. Then he returned the pen to its resting place before holding up the notation for inspection.
“That’s not the response I was hoping for,” I said, staring at the smiley face emoji he’d inked onto his skin. “I’m completely serious, Red.”