Death Before Diamonds (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 10) (10 page)

CHAPTER
20

When I turned the corner at Sawyer
and Crestwood, the first thing that I noticed was the green neon sign in the
window at Drake’s Deli. I’d lost track of how many months it had been on the
fritz, but I smiled when I saw it blink
OPEN TIL
MIDNIGHT
!
for the first time in months.

Colin Drake’s sandwich shop was a
popular spot in downtown Crescent Creek. It attracted business professionals in
suits, teenagers at the end of the school day and a loyal crowd of regulars who
appreciated the late-night hours and delicious fare. Since Rory Thurber was a
creature of habit, I knew that he ate breakfast at Sky High nearly every
morning and lunch at Drake’s Deli most afternoons. I figured it was worth a
quick stop to see if he could tell me anything about Rex Greer’s trip to Edgewood
Road the previous day.

“Hey, Colin,” I said, stepping
through the door. “Your sign’s fixed!”

“At last!” replied the slim man
behind the counter. “Dewey took his sweet time, but it looks even better and
brighter than before!”

“Patience is a virtue, huh?”

He laughed. “I don’t know about
that, Katie. I think Dewey got tired of me calling two or three times every week
to ask how soon he planned to finish the job.”

The seating area was empty, but I
spotted a paper cup and carryout bag on the counter.

“Has Rory been in yet?” I asked.

“He’s here now,” Colin said, nodding
toward the narrow hallway that led to the restrooms. “Went to see a man about a
dog.”

I smiled and took a seat at the
counter. “How’s business? Zack told me that he stopped by last week and there
was a line out the door.”

Colin smiled proudly. “Pulled
pork,” he said. “The restaurant critic from the
Gazette
raved about it.
Since then, lunch has been sheer bedlam. But I’m loving every minute of it!”

“Congratulations! I’ll have to dig
through the pile of papers on my desk to find the review.”

He pointed at a framed clipping on
the wall above a nearby booth. “It’s right there if you want to read it now.”

“Oh, that’s perfect,” I said,
getting up from the seat. “I’ll take a quick—”

“There’s no soap in the dispenser!”
a voice yelled down the hallway. “Just thought you’d want to—”

Rory Thurber stopped in
mid-sentence when he saw me standing beside the counter.

“Oh, g-g-golly,” he blubbered.
“Sorry about that, Katie. When I went back there, the place was empty.”

I smiled. “That’s okay, Rory. I’ve
heard worse.”

Colin chuckled and asked if I
wanted to order a sandwich.

“Actually,” I told him, “I came by
to talk with Rory about something.”

“Sounds good,” Colin said. “I’m
going in the back to slice ham if you two are all set.”

After he disappeared into the
kitchen, I invited Rory to join me in the booth below the framed
Gazette
review.

I pointed at the newspaper article.
“Colin told me that it’s a rave.”

Rory nodded. “The pulled pork is
one of the best things I’ve ever had in my whole life,” he said. “I mean,
besides the pies and cakes that you all serve at Sky High.”

“Thanks, Rory! That’s sweet of you
to say.”

“It’s the truth,” he added. “And I
believe that honesty is the best policy.”

“That’s what Nana Reed always told
me.”

“Ah, what a gem she was,” Rory said
wistfully. “I miss seeing her in the kitchen, you know. Zipping around, baking
pies, telling her grandkids to keep their grubby little paws off the cookie
jar.” His eyes twinkled at the memory. “How are your folks getting along down
in Florida?”

“They’re good,” I answered. “Ornery
and impatient and opinionated.”

“Some things never change,” he said
with a warm smile. “My parents were the same; inflexible and cranky up until
their last breath.”

We sat quietly for a few moments,
reflecting on the warmhearted memories and inevitable passage of time. Then
Rory heaved a sigh and pressed back against the seat.

“So, then,” he said. “You wanted to
ask me something?”

“I did, yes. It’s about a passenger
you had yesterday afternoon. Do you remember taking a guy from Java & Juice
to Edgewood Road?”

Rory frowned. “That wackadoodle
from back east?”

“His name is Rex Greer,” I said.

“Could be Mickey Mouse for all I
care,” Rory griped. “The guy was a wackadoodle. Kept insisting that he was on a
covert mission to find a criminal who’d escaped justice. Seemed convinced that
they were holding his brother for ransom and only one person could save him.”

“And who might that be?” I asked.
“Mickey Mouse?”

Rory chuckled. “Sounds about right.
I just drove the guy to Edgewood Road and dropped him off.”

“Did he say anything else that you
can remember?” I asked.

“I try to forget the wackadoodles,
Katie.”

“Sure, of course.”

“But I did see where he went.”

My pulse jumped. “That would be
helpful. Which house?”

Rory nodded. “I don’t recall the
actual address, but it had blue shutters. To be honest, I wasn’t paying that much
attention. My mission was driving the guy to where he wanted to go. After that,
he was a free agent.”

“But you’re sure that he went to a
house with blue shutters?”

Both of Rory’s gnarled thumbs shot
up. “That’s affirmative,” he said. “Edgewood Road. House with blue shutters.”
He smiled proudly. “Come to think of it,” he said. “The place also had a
Kokopelli statue in the front yard.”

“Kokopelli?”

“Yeah, it’s that humpbacked
character with the flute and feather headdress that Marilyn LaGuardia sells at
her knickknack shop. Some people say Kokopelli is a fertility deity, but I
think it just looks like a weird pixie with bad posture and a flute.”

CHAPTER
21

I’d been sitting in my car near the
intersection of Edgewood Road and Sterling for twenty minutes responding to a
few Sky High emails on my phone. The area was neat and tidy, with nearly
identical bungalows in all directions. After my conversation with Rory Thurber,
I’d hoped it would be a cinch to find the house with blue shutters and a
Kokopelli statue in the front yard. Unfortunately, when I arrived and inspected
the surrounding stretch of Edgewood Road, my expectation was thwarted; two
houses directly across from one another featured blue shutters and figures of
the legendary deity in the front yard.

“Copycats,” I muttered, glancing
back and forth between the houses. “I wonder which one is the original, and
which is the duplicate.”

As I considered flipping a coin to
decide which door to knock on first, a car swerved around the corner, raced
past me and slid into the driveway at one of the two Kokopelli bungalows. As I got
out from behind the wheel and walked toward the house, a slim redhead emerged
from a burgundy four-door with a Broncos pennant fixed to the antenna. She was
wearing a black tank top, floral print calf-length tights and sapphire running
shoes.

“Hi, there!” I smiled and waved. “How
are you?”

She tucked a rolled yoga mat under
one arm, slipped off her sunglasses and considered me cautiously.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“My name is Kate Reed.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said,
shaking my hand. “I’m Bitsy Curlew.” Her nose crinkled. “Well, it’s Bethany.
But everybody calls me Bitsy.”

I guessed she was a few years
younger than me, probably mid-twenties or so. From the faultless makeup, trim
physique and coordinated workout gear, it looked like Bitsy Curlew spent plenty
of time and money on her appearance.

“Good to meet you, too,” I said. “I
know that you’re just getting home, so I’ll be brief. I wanted to ask if you had
a visit yesterday from someone named Rex Greer.”

Her gaze narrowed. “No, sorry.”

“He took a taxi to your street around
three-thirty or so,” I added.

She leaned into her car and came
out with a black leather satchel. When she repeated the move, she had a bright
green reusable grocery bag loaded with fresh fruits and vegetables.

“I wasn’t home until after that,”
she said, slipping the two bags over one arm. “I taught a couple of classes and
then stopped at the store.”

“Okay, so you didn’t talk with
him?”

She frowned and held up one hand to
shield her eyes from the sun.

“Are you with the police?”

“No, I’m from Sky High Pies,” I
said. “The bakery café over on Pine.”

She lifted her chin, gazing at me with
mild disdain. “I’m gluten free,” she announced in a sulky tone. “I steer clear
of bakeries and such.”

I smiled fearlessly. “Well, we
serve a full menu for breakfast and lunch,” I said. “You could always skip the
breads, biscuits and sweet rolls.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. But I
generally eat a pretty low-fat diet.” She patted her tight, flat stomach. “I need
to stay in shape to motivate my students.”

“Do you teach yoga?” I asked.

“At the Community Center,” she
said. “And also a couple of other places in the area. I’ve converted quite a few
local folks since I moved to town.” She smiled and looked next door. “My
neighbor’s a huge fan, but she travels for work and only comes to class a few
times each month.”

“I know how that goes,” I said. “If
I didn’t work around the clock, I’d be able to get more exercise.”

She gave me a quick once over. “You
look like you’re in great shape.”

I shrugged. “I look okay when I’m
dressed,” I said. “But when I’m naked and peep in the mirror, it’s pretty
scary.”

“Oh, go on!” She lowered the hand
from her eyes as the clouds shifted above. “You just need to love who are; no
matter whether you’re tall, short, slim or wide. It’s all good as long as
you’re healthy and happy.”

I smiled again. “Well, I’ve got
about two extra inches of healthy and happy around my waist right now, so some
cardio is definitely in my very near future.”

She grinned faintly before checking
the time on her phone.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” she
said. “But I’ve got another class later. I need to switch the laundry and do a
few other things for tomorrow before I leave again.”

“Of course,” I said. “I don’t mean
to keep you. I was just trying to see if I could find anyone who’d talked to
Rex Greer.”

“Is he the guy looking for his brother?”
she asked.

I felt my pulse surge. “Yes,” I
said. “Did he come to your door?”

She shook her head. “Like I told
you, I wasn’t home, but I ran into my neighbor later. I bet she talked to the
guy. She’s out there all the time planting flowers and watering the lawn.”

“Which neighbor?”

The woman’s willowy arm floated up
effortlessly and she pointed at the next house to the north. The place had
undeniable curb appeal, from the carefully manicured shrubs across the front
and baskets of salmon geraniums lining the porch railing to the pair of
majestic fir trees that towered over the property from the center of the
sloping lawn. A sleek silver BMW convertible with LUVYOGA vanity plates was
parked in the driveway.

“Who lives there?” I asked.

“Polly Ladd,” Bitsy answered. “Do
you know her?”

Although we’d never met, I knew
from the grapevine that Polly worked as a tour guide for wealthy travelers. I
also knew that she’d recently purchased fuchsia Wunder Under Pants from Simply
Chic as a gift for the woman that was now gazing at me with feigned interest.

“Maybe I should check with her,” I
said, glancing across the lawn at Polly’s house.

“I’m also pretty sure that my…um,
my other neighbor also saw Polly talking to the guy you’re asking about,” Bitsy
said.

“Which neighbor might that be?”

“Mildred Nelson,” she said. “She
and her brother live just over there.” She pointed at a house on the opposite
side of the street. “The one with the Kokopelli in the front yard.”

“I’ll pay them a visit next,” I
said. “Maybe they’ll be able to help me.”

“Oh, they drove up to Longs Peak
today.” She flashed a smile. “I know because Mildred asked me to walk their dog
while they were away.”

“How sweet,” I said. “It’s nice to
know that everyone on your block does such a good job looking out for one
another.”

Her gaze tapered. “What is it
you’re trying to find out?” she asked, nearly whispering.

“It is a little complicated,” I answered.
“The man that I mentioned believes that his brother has gone missing.”

“Oh…” The woman’s expression
switched from effervescent and cheerful to melancholy. “I’m sorry to hear about
that.”

“Yes, it’s pretty distressing.”

“The missing guy is his brother?”
she said. “And you’re trying to help bring them together?”

“Something like that,” I said. “I
used to work as a private investigator, so it’s still kind of hard to turn away
from these types of circumstances.”

She nodded. “I get it,” she said.
“I hope everything works out.”

“Thanks, Bitsy. I really appreciate
you taking a moment to talk.”

“No problem at all.” She smiled and
reached into the car again, coming out with a brochure that she handed to me.
“Here’s a schedule. Maybe you can check out one of my sessions sometime.”

“Okay, thanks! I’ll definitely give
it a shot when things calm down a little.”

“Are you into yoga?”

I shrugged. “I tried it a few times
when I lived in Chicago,” I said. “I really liked a couple of the poses.”

“Oh, yeah? Which ones?”

“Well, corpse pose is pretty
great.”

She laughed. “That’s the one where
you’re flat on your back!”

“I know,” I said. “That’s
definitely
my favorite.”

“Which other ones do you like?”

“Is there one called Sipping a
Glass of Merlot?” I joked. “Because if there is, I could do that pose for the
whole class!”