Deadly Desserts (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 6) (18 page)

CHAPTER
42

A large multicolored banner
fluttered above the stage in one corner of Red Hancock’s bar:
Karaoke
Kostume Kontest
. The Wagon Wheel hosted lively amateur singing nights twice
each week, but one evening a month featured cash prizes for the best three costumed
singers. When I initially proposed the idea to invite a few key individuals to
discuss Lacy Orvane’s death—and, I hoped, confirm my theory about the persons
responsible—Dina suggested we stage the meeting in one of the Crescent Creek PD
conference rooms.

I’d vetoed the idea. I had a hunch who
was behind Lacy’s murder, and I was afraid they’d go underground if they
suspected that we were on to them.

“Tell me again,” Dina said, sipping
from her bottle of root beer. “Why’d you pick this place to get everyone
together?”

I smiled. “It was one of Lacy’s
favorites. She came to sing karaoke here at least once or twice a month. Since
everyone thinks this is a spur-of-the-moment celebration of her life, it makes
perfect sense.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about
perfect
sense, but we’ll see.”

“It can’t hurt,” I said.

Dina frowned. “It better not. I
told the chief we were coming here and he…” She glanced around the crowded
room. “Sorry. I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t here.”

“The night is young. Isn’t he a big
karaoke fan?”

Before she could answer, Trent
sauntered up to the booth accompanied by Denny Santiago and Hank Russell, two
officers from the Crescent Creek Police Department. They were all wearing the
clown costumes that I’d rented from Pete’s Party Palace.

“You guys look amazing!” I said,
pulling out my phone to take a picture. “Let me just—”

“Don’t even
think
about it,”
Trent growled. “The fewer people see us like this, the happier I’ll be.”

“And clowns should be happy, huh?”
I offered, sliding the phone back into my purse.

He grunted again and checked his
watch. “We should get in position,” he told Denny and Hank. “You two got this,
right?”

Dina flashed a wide grin. I simply
nodded. No sense in poking the bear. Or the clown.

As they settled into the next booth,
Dina and I reviewed our plan for the umpteenth time. Once our guests arrived,
we’d make a little small talk: the weather, the upcoming Rockies’ game against
the Diamondbacks, the half-price sale on overstocked wine at Tipton’s Liquor
Mart. As soon as Dina raved about one of the chardonnays she’d purchased, I
would mention that Lacy loved it, too. Then Dina would announce that her
investigation appeared to be drawing to a close.

“Sound good?” I asked.

Dina nodded. “It should work,” she
said. “And that’s when you’ll start to—”

“Hello, ladies!”

We’d been so focused on going over
our strategy that we hadn’t noticed Portia Pearson approach the booth.

“Hi!” I jumped up, gave her a big
hug and motioned for her to join us.

“I apologize for being a few
minutes late,” she said, sliding across the bench to the seat by the wall. “My
cousin called from Tulsa. I swear that girl’s motor mouth
never
stops!
She gabbed and gossiped until I finally just hung up.”

“Did you?” I asked, genuinely
surprised. “Seriously?”

Portia nodded. “I do it all the
time. Then I call her the next day and explain that the call dropped because my
battery was so low.”

“And she believes you?” asked Dina.

“Why wouldn’t she?” Portia’s
plucked eyebrows lifted. “I’m not the kind of girl to tell fibs.” She laughed;
a sharp, shrill sound that cut through the loud barroom chatter.

“No doubt,” I said. “And that
explanation is totally believable.”

She snickered again. “At least the
first sixty times, right?”

Dina smiled. I waved at a couple
that came to Sky High a few times a month. And Portia silenced the volume on
her phone before dropping it into her clutch.

“I’m not going to let that dang
thing interrupt our party time,” she said. “I mean, poor, poor Lacy. I’m so
glad you thought of this, Katie. And what a perfect place to get together and
celebrate her life!”

As she surveyed the room, I watched
her face with a sideways glance. I wanted to see her reaction when our other
guests arrived. Luckily, they arrived together, so I didn’t have to wait long.

“What is
she
doing here?”
Portia demanded.

I innocently asked what she was
talking about.

“My assistant,” Portia hissed.
“Don’t I see her enough at work?”

Her eyes began to widen as she
realized that three other people were following Daphne and they were all walking
directly toward our booth.

“Oh, my Lord!” she muttered,
flashing a quick look at me. “It’s a parade of fools!”

I got up to greet the new arrivals.
Once everyone realized they’d been invited to the same celebration of Lacy’s
life, they grudgingly slid into the roomy booth. Nathaniel Craig sat across
from Portia. Thomas Green followed, sitting beside his boss. Pinky Newton
plopped down next to the pale bank vice president. And Daphne Wright stood
nervously beside the table for a moment before I moved closer to Portia and
patted the seat beside me.

“Come on in,” I said. “The water’s
fine and the sharks won’t bite.”

The attempt at levity landed with a
resounding thud. I apologized with a shrug and waited while Dina took her
position beside Thomas Green.

“Isn’t this…a little awkward?”
Nathaniel Craig said, nervously rubbing his hands together. “I mean, we all
want to honor our coworker and friend, but I didn’t—”

“Neither did I!” Portia fixed her
irate gaze on the bank president’s face. “And I don’t believe I would’ve so
readily agreed to be here if I’d known
he
was coming!”

Daphne stared at her employer,
probably trying to comprehend how she’d landed in a booth at The Wagon Wheel on
karaoke costume night with such a motley crew. I smiled at her quickly and gave
a little nod. She instantly averted her eyes, staring instead at the napkin
dispenser in the middle of the table.

“Well, before we get carried away,”
Dina began, “let me just say that I appreciate—”

“And what are
you
doing here
anyway?” Portia glared angrily at Dina. “Were you even Lacy’s friend,
detective? I never once heard her—”

“Portia?”

The stern clarity of Dina’s voice
stopped the rant.

“Why don’t we order some drinks?” I
suggested.

“Let’s hold off on that for a sec,”
Dina said calmly. “We may not even be here that long.”

Portia huffed and asked me to let
her out of the booth.

“I think there are some things we
need to discuss first,” I said, studying her twitching, narrowed eyes.

“Like
what
?” she demanded.

Dina shifted forward, putting one
hand on the table. “Let’s start with this,” she said evenly. “We’re here to
talk about Lacy Orvane. And, while there may have been a little artifice
involved in actually getting everyone together, I believe—”

“
Artifice
?” Thomas Green
hissed. “That’s putting it mildly! Kate out-and-out lied to me.”

“I called and asked you to join a
small group here for karaoke night,” I said, trying not to sound defensive. “I
told you it was to honor Lacy Orvane and—”

“You said it was to celebrate her,”
said the suddenly grumpy bank vice president. “Not to force me to spend time
with
that
witch!” His gaze was focused on Portia. “She was
never
kind to Lacy during rehearsals or after a production or when—”

“Because Miss Orvane didn’t have
one talented bone in her body!” Portia said through gritted teeth.

Green’s expression switched
instantly; the defiant, aggressive glower vanished and he was left looking
shell-shocked and confused.

“Okay, I’d say that’s enough of the
playground chatter,” Dina announced, reaching into her pocket for a small
notebook. “From this point forward, I’d like everyone to please be courteous
and respectful when someone else is talking.” She paused, glancing around the
booth at the dissimilar expressions and stances. “As you know, during the past
few days, the Crescent Creek Police Department has been investigating the death
of Lacy Orvane. Although, on its surface, the incident appeared at first to be
some type of medical emergency, we now know that Lacy died after ingesting a
sizeable quantity of cicutoxin.”

Everyone contemplated the
announcement for a few seconds. Daphne winced slightly, anxiously chewing one
fingernail. Nathaniel Craig smirked and shook his head. Thomas Green’s eyes
were locked on Pinky, but she was staring at the diamond tennis bracelet on her
wrist.

As I considered the dazzling
bauble, I suddenly remembered what Green had said during my visit to his
office. “…there was one bracelet that went to someone outside of the bank’s
inner circle,” he’d told me. “Let’s just say it was presented to one of Mr.
Craig’s close and personal friends as a sort of consolation prize.”

And then, as her fingers began to
slide the expensive piece of jewelry around her slender arm, I noticed
something on the inside of her wrist.

It was small and ornate and dark.

At first, I thought it was a small
bruise or a birthmark, but then I realized it was something else entirely.

It was a relatively discreet tattoo
of one word:
Love
.

CHAPTER
43

My eyes lingered on the tattoo and diamond
bracelet as Dina continued talking about the investigation. When I finally
glanced away from Pinky’s wrist, the CCPD detective was describing the three
classes of fingerprints.

“There are loops, arches and
whorls,” Dina explained. “Approximately sixty to sixty-five percent of the
population has loops, thirty to thirty-five has whorls and—”

“Pardon me, detective,” Nathaniel
Craig cut in. “But what does any of that have to do with why you asked us to
come here tonight?”

“I was getting to that,” Dina said.

“Well, can you speed things up?”
Despite the jagged edge in his voice, the banker’s expression was blank. “I
don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve got better things to do than listen to a
lecture about fingerprints.”

Dina smiled. “Alright then,” she said.
“The reason I’m telling you this is because we found a plastic carryout
container from Drake’s Deli that had a very interesting set of fingerprints on
it.”

Nathaniel Craig didn’t say
anything.

“Were they his?” Daphne asked.

“No, but I believe the killer
wanted us to think Mr. Craig was responsible for Lacy’s death,” Dina answered.

“How?” Nathaniel Craig demanded. “I
had nothing to do with it!”

“Because the plastic carryout box
had your initials on it,” Dina said.

The revelation changed the banker’s
demeanor. He began to clench his teeth and his breathing quickened. I saw him
cast a quick glance at Pinky before he turned to Dina.

“That’s utterly fascinating,
detective. But quite a few people in town know that I buy my lunch from Colin
Drake almost every weekday.”

“Well, what about the day that Lacy
was poisoned?” I asked.

Nathaniel Craig moved his gaze to
me. “What was that?”

“Colin and his employees write the
date of every order on the outside of the plastic container,” I explained. “The
one that Detective Kincaid just referred to was marked with the date that Lacy
Orvane died.”

Craig scoffed. “Coincidence,” he
said. “Or fluke.” He stopped to think, casually rubbing one hand along the side
of his face. “Or, to be quite practical about the matter, anyone could write
anything on the container if they had a black marker. Isn’t that right,
detective? Not to mention that I didn’t go to the deli that day; I attended an
all-day Chamber of Commerce meeting at the Civic Center and they provided lunch
for everyone.”

Dina nodded. “That’s correct,” she
said. “We confirmed your alibi with multiple witnesses from that event, Mr.
Craig.” She turned and smiled at Thomas Green. “Although we also know that
you
left the meeting for a little over an hour to run an errand for Mr. Craig.”

Green’s eyes narrowed. “So? It’s a
free country.”

Dina smiled.

“Besides,” he added, “what’s that
got to do with someone’s lunch habits or fingerprints?”

“Well, the prints on the container
didn’t belong to Mr. Craig,” Dina said. “But I believe you left the meeting
that day to somehow assist the person responsible for Lacy’s murder.”

Thomas Green muttered under his
breath. When Dina asked him to speak up, he glared at her and said, “Is this
even legal? Having us come here under…” He looked at me, scowled angrily and
then turned away. “Kate Reed
lied
, detective. She plain
lied
about why we were invited this evening. When she called earlier, she said a few
people were getting together tonight to honor Lacy’s memory. I thought it was
the right thing to do, since I worked with her for so long. But now…” His face
had turned bright red and a vein in his neck was pulsing violently. “…now,
besides wasting our time, you’re not talking about Lacy at all. You’re going on
about fingerprints and plastic boxes and…”

Everyone waited for him to finish,
but he simply shook his head and looked down at the table.

“Thank you, Mr. Green,” Dina said.
“I can appreciate your frustration, but I can also assure you that we are
absolutely
talking about Lacy Orvane.” She paused for emphasis. “Although, 
unfortunately, my primary concern right now is talking about her death… as well
as the identity of the persons responsible for her murder.”

Daphne’s head jerked toward Dina.
“Did you say persons? Like more than one?”

Dina nodded. “Yes, Miss Wright. We
suspect that more than one person was responsible for what happened.”

“Well, I didn’t do anything wrong!”
Daphne blurted. “It wasn’t my fault! The guy that called and offered me
money…well, he
tricked
me into leaving the delivery door unlocked! I
swear he made me think it had something to do with Portia’s birthday!”

“What did you say?” Nathaniel Craig
asked in a low voice. “If you left the door open, then you gave the killer a
way to sneak in and—”

“Thank you, Mr. Craig,” Dina
interrupted. “But I’d rather not get into that just yet. Instead, I’d like to
ask how many of you were aware that Lacy planned to leave Crescent Creek?”

I glanced around the table.
Nathaniel Craig stared at me defiantly. Thomas Green shook his head. Daphne
frowned, glancing away as soon as our eyes met.

“To go where?” Pinky said as I
turned to gauge her reaction to the news.

“She’d accepted a new job in Omaha,”
I said. “It would’ve been a very nice move for her, too. More money, more
responsibility and, I suspect, a whole let less disloyalty from people who
pretended to be her friends.”

Daphne began to sniffle. Thomas
Green reached over and moved the napkin dispenser closer so she could take a
few and dab at her eyes.

“She never told me,” Nathaniel Craig
said in his most authoritative tone. “And I am her…well, I
was
her
employer.”

“More like her manager,” I said.
“If I’m not mistaken, her actual
employer
was Crescent Creek Bank, Mr.
Craig.”

He swallowed hard, tightening the
icy stare. “You’re splitting hairs, Miss Reed.”

“I don’t believe that I am.
But…that’s a discussion for another day.”

“Good!” Pinky said sharply.
“Because I’m ready to leave this dump and—”

I lifted my arm to keep her from
jabbing me in the side. “And my source also told me,” I continued, “that Lacy
had discovered the man she was having an affair with also had an on-again,
off-again dalliance with another woman in town. A
much
older woman. A
woman with, and I quote, ‘bags under her eyes as big as steamer trunks and a
rear end that could give a bowl of Jell-O a run for its money.’”

Daphne’s frown quivered briefly
before a frail smile appeared. “Who said that?” she asked. “Lacy?”

“Lacy told someone else,” I said.
“And that person told me.”

Pinky’s eyes blazed with disdain. “Hearsay!
Nonsense! Malarkey!”

Nathaniel Craig shifted uneasily on
the seat across from her. He gave Pinky a quick glance before turning to me.
“Who told you that?”

“I’d rather not say,” I answered.

He glared at Dina. “Was it you,
Detective Kincaid?”

“No, it wasn’t. But it is important
to note that Lacy’s married gentleman friend described the other woman, the
older
woman, as, and I quote, ‘petty, small-minded and prone to bouts of rage that—’”

Pinky’s hand slammed onto the table
with such force that the salt and pepper shakers went flying. “How dare you!”
she seethed at Nathaniel Craig. “How
dare
you tell that sleazy tramp
that I was small-minded!”

The outburst left everyone in the
booth silent, but it seemed to fuel Pinky’s rage.

“And what’s
wrong
with my
badonkadonk, Nathaniel?” Her voice had started to tremble from the emotion.
“It’s
not
like Jell-O! It’s nothing like Jell-O! You didn’t seem to
complain about it when we were sleeping together!”

Daphne gasped. “Oh, that’s—”

“Not one word, missy!” Pinky
snapped. “You’ve been nothing more than a thorn in my side since the day we met
at the theater! But your gullibility and innocence proved essential when Thomas
called and offered you money to leave the door open!”

“That’s a lie!” Green said. “She’s
lying, Detective Kincaid!”

Dina started to say something, but
Nathaniel Craig got there first.

“How could you conspire with Pinky
to hurt Lacy?” the banker said, his eyes fixed on his underling. “Why on earth
would you do something so…”

“So
impulsive
?” Pinky said.

Nathaniel Craig stared at her
silently.

“Because he wanted your
job
,
you little twit! And it was all my idea. I was beyond livid when you broke
things off with me the last time and took up with Lacy Orvane! I mean, my word,
Nathaniel! Talk about Jell-O! That woman’s thighs were half cellulite and half
lard! No wonder she was so jittery all the time. And, tell you the truth, she
was just using you to get back at her boyfriend. Didn’t you know that?”

Craig shook his head, still mute,
still stunned.

“Yes, yes,” Pinky went on. “Poor,
pitiful Ron. Less ambition than a wet noodle. And Lacy thought maybe by
carrying on with you that he’d get with the program. But the doofus just kept
dragging around like a zombie. It took him months to even suspect that you and
she were shacking up at that notorious no-tell motel down in Frisco.”

When she finally stopped to
breathe, I asked Dina if she wanted to continue sharing a few more details with
our guests. But before she could even answer, Pinky was locked and loaded with
another barrage.

“Our plan would’ve been perfect if
some scrawny twerp…” She jeered at Thomas Green again. “…if he hadn’t left the
bag with the syringes in the alley! I mean, how stupid can one person be? And
you asked someone at the Horsetooth Reservoir where to find water hemlock! What
on earth were you thinking, Thomas?”

“I didn’t know what else to do,”
Green mumbled. “You told me to go get it. And I forgot where you said to look.”

“Because I had a baby shower to
attend!” Pinky said. “If Sandy’s mother-in-law could’ve picked another day, I
would’ve driven up there myself! I swear, Thomas. Between you and Daphne over
there, my life has been a living hell. Surrounded by bumbling idiots! Having to
explain simple things four or five times! I mean, seriously!”

Thomas Green gulped and swallowed.
“I d-d-didn’t know what you planned to do with the poison, Pinky. I thought you
were just going to scare Lacy so she’d stop seeing Mr. Craig. You told me that
the plan was to break them up so you and he could start carrying on again
behind his wife’s back.”

Nathaniel Craig opened his mouth,
but Pinky stopped him with another volley. “Don’t even think about denying it,”
she shrieked. “And then…” Her gaze jumped from Nathaniel Craig to Thomas Green.
“…what about
you
?” She leveled one finger at him like a dagger; the
glossy crimson polish glistened in the lights above the booth. “Why didn’t you
tell me she was leaving town? If I’d known that, the poor girl would still be
alive.”

Green squared his shoulders. “I
didn’t know,” he said anxiously. “But she’s dead because of you, Pinky. I told
you to go easy with that stuff. Just a drop or two, that’s what I said.”

“Don’t even think about telling me
this is
my
fault!” she seethed. “When I first discussed the idea, you
were thrilled with the opportunity to frame your boss and get his job as bank
president.”

Thomas Green’s face, normally white
as bleached bone, was now bright red and dappled with beads of perspiration.

“That’s a lie!” he screamed.
“You’ve all got to believe me! Pinky’s responsible for this. I mean, c’mon! Detective
Kincaid!” He glared at Dina through crazed eyes. “Those are Pinky’s
fingerprints on the plastic container from the deli! Aren’t they? Aren’t they?”

Dina held his gaze, but didn’t
respond.

“Did this all start because you saw
her picture on my desk, Kate?” Green sneered at me angrily. “Is that how you
figured it out?”

I shook my head. “That was curious
to see,” I told him calmly. “But there were other factors that—”

“I know what you’re talking about!”
Green continued, sounding even more irrational. “The fingerprints, right? Well,
I told Pinky to wear plastic gloves! But she refused! She said they might mess
up her manicure and nobody would ever find the evidence!”

Pinky pounded the table again. “And
they
wouldn’t
have found it,” she screeched, “if you’d been smart enough
to throw it in the incinerator at your buddy’s auto body shop like I told you
to!”

I felt Dina’s hand on my arm. “This
isn’t what I expected,” she whispered.

I answered with a silent nod.

“Okay, that’s enough, Pinky,” Dina
said gravely. “Before we take you and Mr. Green to the station, there a couple
of questions that I hope you can clear up for us.”

Pinky sneered. “Mr. Green and I?
What about Daphne? She played a part in the whole thing, too?”

Dina glanced across at Portia’s
assistant. “Miss Wright? I heard about the phone call you received.”

Daphne’s eyes filled with tears. “I
didn’t know what they were planning to do, detective.”

“She’s still an accomplice,” Pinky
said. “She made it possible for the killer to sneak into the furniture store,
go downstairs and put poison in—”

“
You
did all of that!”
Thomas Green yelled. “
You’re
the killer, Pinky! And if you think that
I’m going to—”

He stopped in midstream as three
clowns appeared beside the booth.

“What’s all the racket?” asked the
joker in the frizzy red wig.

Thomas Green’s mouth gaped open and
his eyes vaulted from the costumed posse to Dina and then back to the clowns.

“I’m Deputy Chief Walsh,” the
red-headed clown said, sweeping the disheveled tangle of crimson hair away to
reveal Trent’s ruffled dark hair. “And these clowns—” He nodded at Denny
Santiago and Hank Russell as they removed the fright wigs they’d been wearing
for the last hour. “—they’re going to escort the five of you down to the station
so we can have a little chitchat about things.”