Deadly Desserts (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 6) (19 page)

Pinky pounded on the table again.
“You can’t prove a thing!” she shrieked, managing to sound simultaneously
confident and bewildered. “Whatever evidence you think you have is
circumnavigational!”

Dina looked at me. I nodded,
signaling that I’d take it.

“Do you mean circum
stantial
?”
I asked.

Pinky sneered. “See? You’re trying
to intimidate me so I incriminate myself.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’ll be
necessary,” I said as Denny and Hank motioned for everyone to get out of the
booth. “Detective Kincaid and her team have quite a large amount of
circumnavigational evidence. There’ll be no need for intimidation of any kind.”

CHAPTER
44

“Well, that was more drama than I
expected,” Dina said. “I particularly like the way Pinky threw everybody under
the bus.”

It was an hour after Pinky and
Thomas Green had been driven away in the back of separate patrol cars while
Portia Pearson, Daphne Wright and Nathaniel Craig rode to the police station in
a third cruiser. As Denny Santiago helped Pinky into the back of his car, she’d
scowled at me and hissed a scorching commentary about my weight, my hair and
the shoes on my feet. “But you’re not a total horror show,” she’d hissed in
conclusion. “At least you can make a decent cherry pie!”

Trent came out of The Wagon Wheel
with his clown wig in one hand and a corn dog in the other.

“Police work makes me hungry,” he
said when both Dina and I stared at the cornmeal-encased sausage on a stick.
“Is that so wrong?”

I rolled my eyes. “Everything makes
you hungry, Deputy Chief Walsh. It’s a good thing you’re working with that new
personal trainer.”

He smirked in disbelief. “How’d you
know about me and Tank? I told him to keep things quiet.”

Dina snickered and headed for her
car. “I’ll let you two hash that one out. I’m going back to the station and
continue my conversation with Tweedledum and Tweedledumber.”

Trent promised to join her soon.
“I’ll handle Daphne, Portia and Nathaniel Craig,” he offered. “While you grill
the mastermind and her goon.”

“Just don’t come back with any
fried food,” said the intrepid detective. “The exhaust fans are down for
maintenance tonight, so the aroma could be potentially lethal.”

After we watched her drive away,
Hank muttered something that sounded like a compliment.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “What was
that?”

He finished chewing the last bite
of his treat. Then he said, “I wanted to thank you for lending a hand again,
Katie.”

“My pleasure, Deputy Corn Dog. I’m
glad to be of service.”

He sneered. “I was being serious.”

“Me, too,” I said. “I know you guys
are more than capable, but I enjoy dipping back into the PI business every now
and then.”

“Just don’t let it become a habit.
People around town have already started talking.”

“About me?”

“Yeah,” Trent said. “And about
whether the city’s paying you to consult on official police business.”

I shook my head and waited. I could
tell from the way his mouth was quivering that there was more to come.

“But don’t worry, Katie. I always
tell them that you’re paying me for the pleasure of my company.”

I didn’t react to the quip.
Instead, I raised one hand, gave him a wave and turned toward my car.

“Hey, hold on there a second!” he
said, sounding simultaneously shocked and hurt. “Aren’t you going to say
anything?”

“About what?”

“That was funny, Katie.”

My blank expression didn’t waver.
“Well, you’re the clown here, so I guess you’d know.”

Trent lifted the bright red wig. “I
still don’t think the costumes were necessary.”

“Sure they were. If Pinky or Thomas
Green saw you in the next booth, there’s a chance they would’ve scooted right
back out the door.”

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “I
suppose. After all, you never can tell what guilty people will do.”

“True enough. Now it’s just a
matter of making their confessions official.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, but…I mean,
c’mon. We read ‘em their rights, they knew everything they said could be used
in court.”

“And still, on they went.” I
smiled. “Singing like a couple of songbirds.”

“You know something, Katie? The
longer I stay in this business, the less surprised I am when guilty people
explain themselves. I mean, shoot! Pinky actually believed that she could
frighten Lacy into ending the affair with Mr. Moneybags!”

“There’s no logic or reason
involved,” I offered. “Just pure greed and arrogance.”

“And that Green guy? What a tool.”

“Is that an official verdict?”

Trent scoffed. “Might as well be.
The little guy thought he’d implicate his boss for giving Lacy poison based on
a plastic box from Drake’s Deli. But he forgot to wipe off Pinky’s prints
before he left it in the alley.”

I nodded. “Again, no logic or
reason.”

“Just pure toolness.”

“Toolness?”

His forehead creased. “What? Isn’t
that a word or something?”

“Or something,” I said. “But I know
what you meant. I also know why some people in town use the Danny Downer
nickname for Thomas Green.”

The wrinkles above Trent’s eyes
tightened. “What?”

“Danny Downer,” I said again.
“Somebody gave Green that nickname because he’s so pessimistic.”

“Well, let’s hope his cellmate
doesn’t find out. It could make the schmuck’s sentence seem that much longer
after he’s convicted and thrown behind bars.”

CHAPTER
45

I was leaning back in my chair,
feet up on the desk and eyes closed, when Harper came through the door of the
Sky High office the following afternoon.

“Don’t you look comfortable?”

“I just finished paying the bills.”
I smiled and patted the tower of invoices beside the checkbook. “I think I’ve
earned a five-minute breather.”

“Are you near the end of the
siesta?”

I glanced at the clock. “I’ve got
another ninety seconds. Why?”

“That Hollywood kid is in the
dining room,” she said. “Wearing a pair of two-thousand dollar boots and a faux
fur bomber jacket that I saw in
Vogue
last month.”

“Abigail Ascot?”

Harper smirked. “Do you know more
than one Hollywood kid?”

I dropped my legs and got up from
the chair. “Do I look okay?”

She smiled. “What’re you talking
about?”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“You’re an eleven in my book,
Katie. Even when your hair is mussed…” Her gaze hovered briefly above my
forehead. “…you’re wearing mismatched socks with your orange clogs…” I looked
down; the proof was irrefutable. “…and there’s a dubious stain on your
pullover…” She pointed at my left sleeve. “…even
with
all of those
flaws, you look absolutely stunning!”

“It’s beet juice!” I explained,
picking at the reddish splotch on my shirt. “Julia and I had a little calamity
in the walk-in this morning.”

Harper laughed, whirled around and
vanished into the hallway. I gave myself a quick once-over in the mirror and
followed her to the dining room. Abigail Ascot was at a table near the counter,
her fingers furiously crisscrossing the screen of an iPad.

“Abby?”

She looked up and grinned. “Hi!
Sorry that I didn’t call first, but I’ve got…great news!” She quickly stashed
the computer in a Louis Vuitton backpack that harmonized perfectly with her
two-thousand dollar boots. “The anniversary party is on again!”

“That’s fantastic!”

“I know,
totally
!” Her smile
was radiant and her eyes flickered with joy. “But that means I need to get the
eighteen pies that we’d discussed.”

I sat down across from her. I
noticed Harper in the distance, keeping watch from behind the counter.

“That’s great news! When do you
need them?”

Her eyes went wide. “Tomorrow! And
I’m
so
excited! My parents are flying in from London on the studio’s
G650.”

“Is that a spaceship?”

She giggled. “No, silly! It’s a
Gulfstream jet. My father’s is on the fritz.”

Of course
, I thought.
And
such
an inconvenience!

“Well, that sounds pretty swanky.”

Her nose crinkled. “What does
‘swanky’ mean?”

“Just that it sounds nice. I’m glad
your parents are coming home to Aspen. And I’m even more excited to hear that
your big bash is back on.”

“It’s going to be
so
much
fun!”

I smiled as my mind started to spin
with the ramifications of making so many pies in such a short period of time.

“So?” Abigail said. “Can you do
it?”

“Yes, we’ll take care of everything
for you.”

Her mouth puckered. “You don’t
sound very convincing.”

“Well, it is short notice. And I
don’t know how easy it will be to find the mamey sapote. But I’ll get started
right away and call if there are any wrinkles.”

“Would it be easier if we went back
to the original plan?”

“Six apple, six cherry and six
blueberry?”

She nodded. “And one coconut cream.
My father’s bringing a friend along and he
really
likes coconut cream
pie.”

“Is it someone famous?” I felt
instantly embarrassed for prying. “Um, actually, forget I even asked that,
okay?”

She smiled. Then she leaned forward
in her chair and whispered a name.

“You’re kidding!”

“Nope! He might be in my dad’s next
movie, so they’re going to talk business stuff after the party.”

“Wow! He’s
really
famous.
And his wife is so…”

She laughed. “I know! She’s one of
the most beautiful women, like,
ever
!”

“And all of their kids, right? Have
you met any of them?”

“Oh, for sure. They’re all cool. I
especially like—”

“Excuse me,” a tiny voice said.

Abigail and I both turned to see a
young girl standing a few feet from the table. She looked to be seven or eight.

“Aren’t you Brendan Ascot’s
daughter?” the girl asked.

“I am,” Abigail said. “Do you want
my autograph?”

The girl giggled. “No, thank you.
But will you tell your father that I found several flaws in his last film?”

Abigail reached into her backpack.
She pulled out a small business card case. It was brushed aluminum with three
initials engraved on the top.

“Here,” she said, giving the girl
one of the cards. “This is my dad’s personal email. Just let him know that I
gave it to you. Then you can tell him yourself.”

The young critic accepted the card,
gazing at it intently for a few seconds. Then she held up a phone and said,
“Can I take a selfie with you?”

“Sure,” Abigail said, leaving her
chair. “Inside or on the front porch?”

The little girl shrugged.

“The lighting’s better out there,”
Abigail said, reaching for the girl’s hand. “I’ll be right back, Miss Reed.
This won’t take but a moment.”

As I watched the pair stroll toward
the door, I felt a smile bloom on my face. It had been a chaotic few days;
between juggling my Sky High duties and running around to help unravel Lacy
Orvane’s murder, I was completely exhausted.

But there was something uplifting
and calming about watching the girls as they walked together across the dining
room. It was a moment of kindness and generosity, a fleeting glimpse of two
strangers who would probably never meet again coming together to create a new
memory.

“That’s really sweet,” someone said
over my shoulder.

When I turned, I saw Harper, the
decaf pot in one hand and the regular in the other.

“Isn’t it?” My smile deepened as I
watched the pair walk out the door and onto the porch. “Abigail Ascot is really
something! She’s smart and thoughtful and stubborn and compassionate and kind.”

Harper grinned. “You’ve got that
right!” she agreed. “And I know somebody just like her.”

“Do you really?”

“Yes, really,” she said. “And I’m
talking to her at this very instant!”

Nana Reed’s Sky High
Recipes

Swedish Dreams

Ingredients

1 cup butter

3/4 cup sugar

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1/2 teaspoon almond extract

1 teaspoon cardamom

2 cups all-purpose flour

24 whole almonds

Directions

1.
     
Preheat oven to
350 degrees F (175 degrees C).

2.
     
Prepare two
baking sheet with parchment paper or silicone mats.

3.
     
Cook butter over
medium-low heat until it becomes a light brown color; approximately 12 to 15
minutes.

4.
     
Remove butter
from heat, allowing it to cool and harden.

5.
     
Chop the hardened
butter into small pieces with a spoon, spatula or knife.

6.
     
In a separate
bowl, thoroughly combine sugar, flour, baking powder and cardamom.

7.
     
Use pastry
blender to incorporate butter into dry ingredients before adding vanilla extract
and almond extract.

8.
     
When thoroughly
blended, form small 1-inch balls of dough by hand.

9.
     
Place dough balls
on baking sheets, approximately 1 inch apart.

10.
 
Press one almond into the top of each
ball.

11.
 
Bake for 12 to 15 minutes or until golden
brown.

12.
 
Leave cookies on parchment paper or
silicone mats and remove from baking sheets.

13.
 
Allow to cool thoroughly before moving to
wire racks.