One Hot Murder (23 page)

“Sure.” Katie had done it a number of times when Andy was shorthanded. She could take phone orders and make pizzas as well as any of his employees. And besides, it was slightly cooler and a whole lot less humid in the pizzeria than it was in her apartment. He was actually doing her a favor by inviting her to stay there for several hours.

Andy scooted around the counter, gave Katie a quick kiss, and bounded out the door.

Katie and Keith watched him get into his car and pull out of the lot. She met the boy’s gaze. “Looks like it’s just us,” she said as the phone rang again.

Keith grabbed it. “Angelo’s Pizzeria.” He listened and didn’t take notes. “Yeah, she’s here.”

He handed Katie the phone. Would it be Davenport?
Was he going to berate her about the mix-up in the party spaces for Saturday night. “Hello?”

“Katie, it’s Nick Farrell.”

“Oh.” She laughed. “You’re the last person I expected to hear from. And I’m sorry, but I really can’t tie up the pizzeria’s line. Can we talk tomorrow?”

“That’s why I’m calling now. We heard you have a storage unit full of antiques you might like to unload, and we’ve got a house that needs filling.”

Katie found herself gritting her teeth. Had Seth let it slip? She did
not
want to part with her treasures. “I do have some items, but I’m not interested in selling them.”

“Are you sure? I understand Artisans Alley is in need of cash to fix the HVAC system.”

And who told him that? Seth again?

“I really need to get off the phone,” Katie said, stalling.

“Right. I can come over to the Alley tomorrow morning and we can chat. Is that okay?”

“Sure,” she said, trying not to sound at all angry.

“Great. I’ll be there about nine. See you then.”

Katie hung up the phone, which immediately started to ring again. She grabbed the receiver. “Angelo’s Pizzeria.”

“Yeah, I’d like to order a medium with cheese, pepperoni, and onions. How long will it take?”

Katie hesitated, still angry that someone had told Nick about her antiques. “Uh…twenty minutes pickup. An hour if you want it delivered.”

“Wow, that’s a long time. I’ll pick it up.” Katie took down the order, then the name and phone number of the customer. She hung up and donned fresh gloves to make the pizza. Seth wouldn’t tell her who’d bought Wood U, but would he have told his high school buddy that she had all those antiques that were perfect for Sassy Sally’s?

The phone kept ringing and the pizza orders kept coming. There was no way Katie could call Seth to ask.

She’d just have to seethe in silence until the next morning.

Andy finally called just as Keith left and Katie locked up the pizzeria for the night. “I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier. It’s been a nightmare kind of evening,” he admitted.

“How did things go with Blake?”

“Not good. It looks like he was caught red-handed. They’ve got video of the crime. And it’s only a matter of time before the Sheriff’s Office arrests him on the Wood U fire. He admitted to me that he did that, too.”

“But why?” Katie asked. “Blake graduated from school. Dennis retired. Blake never would’ve had to interact with Dennis again.”

“Revenge, plain and simple. And setting fire to something gives the kid a thrill,” he said bitterly. “Why couldn’t he just play Xbox and be a kid for just a little while longer?”

“Andy, you said yourself this wasn’t the first time he’s torched something. The boy needs help.”

“Unfortunately, they’re going to toss him in jail and let him rot there for a very long, long time.”

“I’m so sorry,” Katie said, not knowing what else to say. She turned to practical matters. “Do you want me to leave the receipts in the register, or should I just take them up to my apartment?”

“Lock them in the register and put the key in the usual place. I’ll stop by on my way home and pick them up. I’ve still got to make the dough for tomorrow’s cinnamon buns. Damn Danny for taking this week off.”

“Do you want to come up for a nightcap?” Katie offered.

“I would, but you’ve had two late nights in a row. You’ve got to be at the Alley in less than seven hours. You need your sleep.”

Thank you
, she silently agreed.

“Thanks for pitching in again tonight,” Andy said.

“Hey, you’d do the same for me.”

“I wouldn’t, and you know it. Making a pizza and taking orders isn’t like managing a business as complicated as Artisans Alley. And you must’ve been bushed after the day you put in, not to mention dealing with the Merchants Association.”

“Stop! You’re making me feel even more tired,” she joked. “However, I will allow you to repay me with breakfast tomorrow morning. How about two cinnamon rolls?”

“You got it! Thanks again. See you in the morning.”

“Good night.”

Katie hung up the phone. She switched off the lights and locked up, then trudged up the outside set of stairs to her apartment. For safety’s sake, after she’d rented it, Andy had blocked off the stairs inside the pizzeria that led to the apartment. She was glad one of the Square’s big parking lot lamps illuminated the staircase. After what she’d been through the evening before, she was almost as nervous as Francine Barnett.

Katie entered her apartment and was welcomed by two sleepy cats, who informed her that they could sure use a snack. She filled their bowls with treats and then switched off the kitchen light. The same light that lit her staircase made a useful night light. She moved to take one last look at Victoria Square.

Just as she was about to turn away she heard the sound of a car engine, and headlights cut through the darkness at the far end of the parking lot, near Wood U. Who would be on the Square at this time of night? She was the only one who actually lived there. Could it be Dennis Wheeler? Did the killer always return to the scene of the crime? Odd as it seemed, Abby hadn’t come to fetch her husband’s car and the last Katie had looked, it was still sitting in the back lot. Could he have claimed it? She couldn’t see from her current vantage point, and wasn’t about to go poking around outside
alone at that time of night. But the thought of Dennis Wheeler hanging around Victoria Square—a man she’d never feared in the past—truly did frighten her.

And she didn’t like feeling that way.

Not one damn bit.

The sound of a roaring engine pulling into Victoria Square caused Katie to stop sipping her English breakfast tea and glance out the window in time to see the back end of Vance’s pickup truck zoom buy. She glanced at her clock. She wasn’t due to open Artisans Alley for another fifteen minutes. Seconds later, another familiar car pulled into the lot. It belonged to Ida Mitchell. Would she never tire of her protest?

Katie poured the rest of her tea down the sink, grabbed her keys, and locked the apartment.

Vance was assembling the EZ-UP while an impatient Ida stood nearby, tapping her foot.

“What’s going on?” Katie inquired politely, squelching the urge to make a more vehement demand. “When you took down your canopy yesterday, I figured that would be the end of this ridiculous campaign of terror.”

The corners of Vance’s mouth quirked upward, but he didn’t pause. “We can’t let Ida fry out here, now can we?” he said reasonably.

“And we don’t have to encourage her either,” Katie said under her breath.

“She’ll get tired of it in a few days. And when I take it down tonight, I’ll tell her I can’t bring it back tomorrow. I only brought it today because she cornered me yesterday when I was hot and vulnerable,” he muttered.

“Are you two talking about me?” Ida demanded. “Because if you are, I want you to stop it right now!”

Katie’s fists clenched. “I would love to stop talking about you—forever.” She wagged a finger in Vance’s face. “This is the last day I’m going to put up with this.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ida whined, sounding like a spoiled child. “Arrest me?”

“That’s an option,” Katie said. “Technically you are trespassing. If they don’t throw you in jail, they could make you pay a big fine.”

Ida blinked in surprise. She didn’t have any money at her disposal, and the threat to her pocketbook actually seemed to take some of the steam out of her.

Katie wasn’t about to debate the subject any longer. She turned and stomped toward the vendors’ entrance and opened the door, letting it slam shut behind her.

True to his word, Nick Farrell showed up at Artisans Alley at precisely nine o’clock holding two tall cups, both of them bearing domed plastic lids. “Are you busy?” he asked.

“Always. But not too busy to chat with a member of the Merchants Association—and a new friend. Come on in,” Katie said and gestured to her guest chair. Thank goodness she’d had an hour to cool down after her latest altercation with Ida, the term cool being relative. “Sorry it’s so hot in here.” She turned the fan to its lowest setting, which was still almost as loud as a lawnmower.

“This ought to cool you off,” Nick said, handing Katie one of the cups.

“Thanks.” She inspected the offering. A mocha frappe with a drizzle of caramel on the whipped cream. He handed her a straw.

“Is this a bribe?” Katie asked, and removed the paper wrapper from her straw, inserting it into the drink.

“Maybe,” Nick admitted and smiled. He had dazzling white teeth. He must have bleached them on a regular basis.

“Let’s not get into the subject of my treasures just yet. I want to enjoy at least some of this,” Katie said and took a sip.
Mmm…nice.
“What did you think about the meeting last night?”

“It was great.”

“I hope you didn’t feel intimidated, what with being the new guys in town. You really can make any suggestions you want. That’s what the Association is all about.”

“Don’t worry, we talked about it last night and we have a lot of ideas. We’re going to have a brochure stand in our reception area, and we want to include everyone on the Square. And we want to talk about partnering with other merchants for special offers for our guests.”

“Some of the merchants are already doing that. You’ll find an enthusiastic audience. Give me a call before the next meeting so I can put your ideas on the agenda.”

“I’ll do that,” Nick said, and took a sip of his own drink. “I was surprised to find out the former owner of Wood U was none other than Mr. Wheeler from my high school shop class.”

“You knew him?”

“Oh yeah,” Nick said, and the set of his mouth told her it hadn’t been a pleasant experience.

“It seems like he had a reputation for picking on some of his students,” Katie ventured.

“Tell me about it. I was one of them. I guess I just looked gay, and in those days, it didn’t take much to bring out the bully not only in Old Man Wheeler, but in the other
testosterone-soaked jocks that were my classmates. I was lucky Seth jumped in to save me.”

“No one suspected he was gay?” Katie asked. Dumb question. She hadn’t suspected it. Andy had had to clue her in.

Nick shook his head. “Not a chance. He was the quarterback on the football team. Luckily for me, the guys respected him enough to listen when he told them not to pick on me. Funny—the kids laid off, but not Wheeler,” he said bitterly.

Good grief. How many of Dennis’s former students on Victoria Square held a grudge?