Read Deadly Desserts (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 6) Online
Authors: Mary Maxwell
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.”
He shuffled the papers on his desk,
pushed them to one side and pulled a fresh legal pad from the top drawer. “Let
me make some notes for the file,” he said, grabbing one of the ballpoints in
the Broncos coffee mug near the desk phone. “Tell me what you have in mind and
how this will go down.”
“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.”
He smiled. “Okay, sure Katie,” he
said. “But you know this isn’t the Ritz, right? We don’t generally take
reservations. It’s more of a casual kind of joint.”
“I know that. And I wouldn’t
normally ask you to do something like this, but it’s really important.”
“What’s up?” His eyebrows lifted
with curiosity. “Are Zack’s parents in town to meet his fair-haired lady love?”
I groaned. “Please don’t ever call
me that again, okay?”
“But it’s what you are, Katie.
You’re Zack Hutton’s lady love, and he’s your—”
“My boyfriend,” I said quickly.
“And I’m his girlfriend. But this isn’t Medieval England. We don’t say things
like ‘fair-haired lady love.’”
He looked disappointed, like a
moping tyke who’s been scolded for pulling his sister’s hair. “Well, Becca’s
reading this book,” Red muttered. “It’s all about a knight who rescues a
princess from a castle and…” He saw the grin on my face and the explanation
withered into silence. “Ah, shucks, Katie! She’s been telling me about the
story, and it sounded kind of romantic and whatnot.”
I reached over and patted his arm.
“It’s all good, Red. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m just trying to
stay focused on the task at hand.”
“Which is?” he asked.
“Can you reserve the last two
booths for us?” I said. “I’m not sure if Dina will get here first or if I will.
Either way, we’ll be expecting five people to join us.”
“And who’s sitting in the other
booth?”
I smiled. “Three clowns.”
Red shook his head in disbelief.
“I’m not even going to ask,” he said. “But I’ll take care of it for you. I’ve
got green paper streamers left from St. Patrick’s Day. I can use those to tape
off the booths so nobody will sit there before you and your friends arrive.”
“That’s perfect! Dina or I will
take them down before our guests of honor get here.”
Red’s face brightened. “Is this,
like, a birthday party or something?”
“Nothing quite that festive,” I
confessed. “But it is a secret, so please don’t say anything to anyone, okay?”
He leaned closer. “Oh, now I see!”
His voice was a hoarse whisper. “A surprise
something
for
someone
!”
I gave him a thumbs up. “There you
go,” I said. “It’s going to be a great, big surprise for at least a few of our
guests.”
“I got it,” Red said. “How about I
surprise you right now with a free beer?”
I shook my head. “That’s really
sweet, but I’ve got to pickup and deliver three clown costumes in the next hour
and make a quick stop at home to change my clothes.”
Red checked his watch. “Then you
better shake a leg, Katie. I’ll see you back here later for your big whizbang
surprise!”
CHAPTER
41
The walkie-talkie on the passenger
seat beside me buzzed and crackled with static before I heard Trent calling my
name.
“Deputy Chief Walsh to Katie,” he
blared. “You there, Katie?”
I grabbed the radio, clicked the
button and answered the question.
“I need to tell you something,” he
said. “Over.”
“What’s that, Deputy Chief Walsh? Over.”
“I hate clowns,” he grumbled. “Over.”
I’d been in constant motion for the
past two hours: racing to get the costumes, driving back to the police station
to leave them with Trent and then hurrying home to change into a new outfit. I
didn’t think he’d actually use the walkie-talkie when he gave it to me earlier,
but it was now obvious that he was in a chatty mood.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” I
said. “Over.”
“There was no way I was dressing up
like a woman,” Trent complained. “But I’m not that crazy about being a clown
either.”
I resisted the temptation to tease
him any further about his appearance. Instead, I thanked him for agreeing to
help with the plan Dina and I had devised before promising to never again ask
him to dress like a clown.
“And why clowns anyway?” he
grumbled. “Over.”
“There’s a traveling circus at the Crescent
Creek Civic Center this weekend,” I explained. “Some of the entertainers have
already arrived in town, so I figured it would make a good cover for you and
whichever officers join you tonight. Over”
“It’s going to be Denny and Hank,”
he announced. “They both owe me a favor, so I’m collecting the debt to help you
out. Over.”
I smiled at the thought of the two
macho cops dressed in colorful clown outfits when the walkie-talkie squawked
again.
“Walsh to Katie,” he said. “Over.”
I held the radio in one hand while
steering with the other. “Go for Katie,” I said. “Over.”
“This costume is starting to itch,”
Trent griped. “Do you have any talcum powder in your purse?”
I answered first with a laugh and
then an apology. “I don’t have any, but I think there’s time for a quick dash
down the block to CVS. Over.”
“That’s okay,” Trent said. “I won’t
be wearing this getup very long because—” A new burst of static overpowered his
voice. “—in time to see the Avalanche play Arizona, right?”
I knew he was talking about hockey,
but I wasn’t sure what he’d asked. To keep things moving along without
potentially annoying Bongo the Clown, I asked him to repeat the last few
sentences. When he finished, he told me to explain how I came up with the plan
we were about to enact.
“It’s actually something that Dina
and I devised together. She used a similar ruse a couple of months ago on a
case involving a burglary, and I did the same one time in Chicago when—”
“Walsh to Katie,” she said. “Over.”
“Go for Katie,” I said, holding my
tongue. “Over.”
“I just wanted the highlights,
Katie. Not your whole life story.”
I clicked the button on the
walkie-talkie a few times. Then I turned it off. We’d already discussed the
plan an hour before during a brief conference call with Dina. I suspected he
was just feeling ornery and had time to kill while he drove across town to meet
me at The Wagon Wheel.
I also guessed that turning off the
radio might make Trent hot—as well as itchy—under his clown collar, but I
wanted a few minutes of peace and quiet before our encounter with the guests
we’d invited to join us for the evening.