Death Before Diamonds (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 10) (5 page)

CHAPTER
8

When I arrived back at Sky High
Pies, I went into the office, checked messages and decided they could wait for
a few minutes. I wanted to call the Silver Dollar Motel in Frisco and investigate
the tip from Homer Figg. After finding the phone number online, I dialed the
digits and sat back in my chair.

“Motel,” bellowed the man that
answered. “If you’re looking for the Long Horn’s two-for-one steak dinner
special next weekend, we’re completely booked and apologize for any
inconvenience.”

“Thank you,” I said. “May I please
speak to the manager?”

“This is Marv. How can I help you,
ma’am?”

While he listened patiently, I gave
him my name and explained that I was calling from Crescent Creek about a
possible missing person.

“From where?”

“Crescent Creek,” I said again.

“Do you know somebody named Vivian
England?”

“Well, my neighbor is
Viveca
England,” I said. “Could that—”

“Oh, dang!” he exclaimed. “I can
never get that woman’s first name right.”

“Do you know Viv?”

“I do,” he said. “But not well. My
wife hired Vivian to…see? Even two seconds later, I fumble it. Anyway, Miss England
is helping my wife with some interior decorating for her office.”

“Really? That’s fantastic! Viv’s
been pouring her heart and soul into her new business, but I didn’t realize that
she had clients as far away as Frisco.”

“We’re just down the road a spell,”
he said with a chuckle. “Not on the other side of the planet.”

“I know, but…well, it’s a small
world,” I said. “I hope Viv does an amazing job for your wife.”

“They’re off to a great start,” he
said. “My Nancy comes home with updates just about every night, discussing
fabric swatches and paint colors like they’re some kind of miracle
breakthrough.” He laughed again. “But enough about that. What can I help you
with?”

“As I mentioned, I’m calling about
a missing person,” I said. “Someone told me that the individual in question was
staying at the Silver Dollar. His name is Theo Greer and he’s been in the area
since at least last week.”

“And who are you?” he asked. “I didn’t
quite catch your name.”

“I’m Kate Reed,” I answered.

“Are you with the police up there
in Crescent Creek?”

“No, sir. Although I have close
ties with them. I run my family’s bakery café, but I previously worked as a
private investigator.”

“Are you sure the fellow’s gone
missing?” Marv asked.

“Not really,” I said. “I’m just
going on what his brother told me.”

“What’s that name again?”

“Theo Greer,” I said. “He told someone
that he had a room at the Silver Dollar.”

“He did,” Marv said. “Until some
moron came and kicked in the dang door a couple of nights ago. He’d been with
us for three days or so at that point, but he checked out the next morning even
though I’d moved him to a new room with a door that worked.”

I was surprised by the man’s
comment, and quickly asked for details.

“About which?” he said. “The damage
to my door or the jerk that put his boot through it?”

“I’d like to hear as much as you
can share,” I said. “And, before you get started, I’m sorry to hear about the damage
to the motel.”

He scoffed. “Not as sorry as I was.
We just had a new paint job done this summer that pretty much drained our
building maintenance fund.”

“Well, I know how that goes. I’m
the third generation to run our family business. I’ve got one eye on the bottom
line and one on the bank balance at all times.”

He chuckled. “Then you can
appreciate my fury when the idiot kicked in the door. I called the police, but
he was gone by the time they arrived. Theo Greer said he’d never seen the guy
before, but I didn’t believe him.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Well, I can’t exactly put it into
words,” Marv answered. “It was mainly a gut thing. Like, there was something
about how carefully he talked to the police and how many times he apologized to
me for all the inconvenience.”

“Did you get a look at the
troublemaker?”

“Just the back as he ran away,”
said Marv. “I told all of that to the police, but I doubt if it was much help.
I mean, it was a guy wearing jeans, a dark jacket and a baseball cap. He was
driving a blue car that had out-of-state plates and a pretty hefty scrape along
one side.” He laughed again. “Doesn’t exactly narrow down the pool of suspects
much, does it? Tell you the truth, it’s all water under the bridge at this
point. The door’s been repaired. The police have a bulletin out. And Theo
Greer’s taken his bag of lies somewhere else.”

“Wow,” I said. “You sound pretty
ticked.”

“Wouldn’t you be?” Marv said
sharply. “The Silver Dollar’s been here for sixty years. We’re a family
business. Do you know what I mean? We don’t cater to criminal types and we
don’t tolerate hanky-panky. If cheating husbands and wives are looking for a
place to do their monkey business, they know that this isn’t an option.”

I smiled at the man’s summary of his
motel. Then I asked if he happened to know where Theo was headed after he left
Frisco.

“West,” Marv said. “I know that’s
not very specific, but that’s all he said.”

“It’s a start.”

“True enough,” he agreed. “But, if
I was in your shoes, I wouldn’t try too hard to find him. There was just
something shady about that whole deal.”

“You mean when the other man kicked
in the door?” I asked.

“Yes, indeed,” Marv replied.
“People don’t do things like that if they’re dropping by to visit friends.”

“I don’t disagree,” I said. “But,
like I told you, I’m just trying to help his brother. He seems pretty convinced
that something bad happened to Theo.”

“I hope he’s wrong. I’m no fan of
the guy after the door incident, but I’d hate to think that he ran into truly
nasty trouble out there somewhere.”

“No doubt,” I said. “Was there
anything else you remember about him?”

“About Theo Greer?”

“Yes. Anything he said. Something
you noticed.”

“Not really,” Marv answered. “Until
that jerk showed up and busted the door, Theo seemed like a normal type of guy.
He looked like just any run-of-the-mill traveler going cross-country to visit a
friend.”

“That’s what he told you?” I said.
“He was out here to visit a friend?

“Yes,” Marv said. “When he checked
in, Theo said he was on an extended vacation and was driving from coast to
coast.”

“Do you know what kind of car he
had?”

“It was a Ford pickup,” the motel
manager said. “Brown with plenty of rust.”

“Thanks, Marv. You’ve been a
big…oh, say. One more thing. Is there any chance you have Theo’s phone number?”

He laughed. “The police asked the
same thing,” he told me. “Normally, I wouldn’t get in the middle of something
like this, but I can pass your number along to him if you’d like. I mean, after
all, you sound legit. And you’re friends with my wife’s interior decorator, so
what other credentials might you possibly need?” He paused and chuckled again. “Not
to mention that I Googled your café while we’ve been on the phone and I can see
that you look like a really level-headed sort.”

I smiled at the unexpected praise.

“Thanks,” I said. “I like to think
of myself that way.”

“Don’t we all,” Marv said. “Don’t we
all.”

CHAPTER
9

Zack and I were having dinner that
evening at Café Fleur. The restaurant was noisy and crowded, but our table felt
like a hushed and serene oasis.

“You look amazing in that dress,” he
said, taking my hand. “Blue is a good color for you.”

I smiled. “Thanks, handsome. This
one’s black, but I appreciate the compliment.”

He leaned closer, studying my
sleeve. “Looks blue to me, Katie. Maybe it’s the lighting in here.”

“It doesn’t really matter,” I said.
“It was sweet of you to say something.”

He raised my hand to his lips,
kissed it gently and then squeezed. “I think you look fantastic wearing any
color, babe. Or, for that matter, not wearing any color at all besides your
birthday—”

“Look who’s here!” someone squealed.
“It’s the cutest couple in town!”

We both glanced up to find Marion
McGill standing beside the table. The slender fiftysomething brunette was
wearing a tailored blue blazer over a white cashmere turtleneck and black leather
pants. She and her husband owned Crescent Creek Animal Clinic, where they
tended to a wide array of pets and their human companions. Marion and Herb met and
fell in love when they were both enrolled in the Doctor of Veterinary Medicine
Program at Colorado State. Although they briefly flirted with the idea of
relocating to Arizona or New Mexico after graduation, they decided to stick
closer to home when the Animal Clinic’s previous owner announced that he was
hanging up his stethoscope for good. The fact that the retiring vet was also Herb’s
father helped the couple decide to stay in Colorado.

“How are you, Marion?” I asked.

“Can’t complain,” she said, sitting
in one of the empty chairs at our table. “How are you kids doing?”

“We’re both good,” I answered.
“Where’s Herb?”

She nodded at the front door. “He
and Pete are parking the car.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” I said. “I ran
into Pete at Tipton’s not too long ago, but I haven’t seen Sheila for ages.”

Marion’s expression darkened. “I
guess that you didn’t hear the news,” she said glumly. “Blanche Speltzer found
out yesterday, so I figured everyone within a thousand-mile radius would’ve
heard by now.”

“What news?” I asked as Zack
covered his mouth to keep from laughing. “I saw Blanche earlier, but she didn’t
say anything.”

“Well, it seems that my dear,
darling brother-in-law is having a massive midlife crisis,” Marion said,
lowering her voice. “He and Sheila are taking some time to figure out…” The
front door opened and she paused briefly to see the new arrivals. “I don’t want
Pete to think that I’m talking about it behind his back,” she continued when a
family of four stepped in from the sidewalk. “Even though that’s absurd because
everyone in here is going to see him in that ridiculous—”

She stopped when the door opened
again, watching silently as her husband and brother-in-law walked into the
café. Herb McGill was dressed in his usual attire: dark business suit, crisp
white shirt and colorful patterned bowtie. His brother Pete, walking a few
steps behind, looked like the polar opposite of his shipshape sibling.

“Is that a caftan?” Zack whispered,
staring at Pete’s long belted tunic. “Or a circus tent?”

“
Neither
!” Marion snapped.
“It’s his
stage
costume
for the stupid band that he started! They
have a gig later tonight at a private event.”

“Pete’s in a band?” I said in
disbelief. “What about the plumbing business?”

Marion scowled, watching the McGill
brothers as they moved across the crowded room. A few diners stared silently at
Pete’s peculiar attire, but most continued eating and talking without noticing
the duo.

“They both inherited a boatload of
money from a distant relative a couple of months ago,” she quickly explained.
“Herb and I are using our share to start a scholarship for veterinary students
at CSU. Pete decided the windfall was a sign from somewhere up above that it
was time to fulfill his childhood fantasy of being a rock star. He put an ad in
Boulder Buzz
for musicians, bought a dozen of those silly tunics and
converted the garage at his office into a recording studio.”

“What kind of music do they play?” I
asked.

“The crappy kind,” Marion hissed.
“Now, please don’t ask him questions about it, okay? Just pretend he’s wearing
a Broncos jersey and ratty jeans like he usually did before he went completely bananas.”

When Herb and Pete arrived at our
table, they greeted us warmly before asking Marion if she was ready to be
seated.

“Looks like I beat you to it,” she
joked.

“Come on, honey,” Herb said, taking
her hand and waiting while she stood. “Let these two lovebirds enjoy their
romantic dinner.”

After the trio had moved on to
their reserved booth in the back, Zack asked if I’d heard anything around town
about Pete’s fledgling musical endeavor.

I shook my head. “That’s the first
time I’ve heard the news. How about you?”

He laughed. “Pete actually called
the entertainment reporter at the newspaper to ask about photographers he could
hire to document the band’s inaugural stages,” Zack said. “He asked me to take
candid shots during their first jam sessions in the old dance hall above Smoky
Joe’s.”

“Is that why you smelled like barbecue
last Thursday night?” I asked.

Zack nodded. “Pete asked me not to
say anything about the band until the divorce was filed.”

“Divorce? I thought Marion said it
was a trial separation.”

Zack winced. “I don’t know, babe.
I’m just telling you what Pete told me.”

“Well, I sure hope somebody tells
Sheila,” I said. “The end of a marriage is tough enough without being left in
the dark.”

“I agree,” Zack said. “But that’s
pretty much their business, isn’t it?”

I shrugged, but didn’t say
anything.

“There’s another rehearsal tomorrow
night,” Zack said a moment later. “Want to join me?”

“Maybe,” I said. “What kind of stuff
do they play?”

He chuckled. “It’s…uh,
very
original.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, imagine if you’re at home listening
to one of the early hits by the Beatles,” he answered. “And pretend that Paul
McCartney and John Lennon are singing
after
they’ve inhaled a bunch of
helium. And then someone in the next room starts yodeling and sawing away on a
fiddle. And then, just when you think it couldn’t get any more confusing, a car
drives by with hip-hop blaring from the speakers.”

“Wow!” I said. “That does sound
original!”

“It’s some of the most bizarre
music I’ve ever heard,” Zack said. “Do you want to go tomorrow?”

I made a face. “Not if my life
depended on it, sweetheart.”