Murder for Millions (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 7) (13 page)

CHAPTER
29

Less than ten minutes later, as I
stood beside my car listening to a message from a customer placing a special
order for Red Velvet Cake Pops, I saw Dina Kincaid’s sleek black sedan glide
into a parking spot near the front door of the Lodge. I quickly finished with
the phone, dropped it into my purse and headed in her direction.

“Well, that was fast,” I said as
she stepped from the car.

Her eyes crinkled with a sly grin. “Faster
than a speeding bullet!” She shifted into a power stance with both hands on her
hips. “More powerful than a locomotive!”

I let the quip echo for a moment.
Then I said, “What about leaping over tall buildings?”

“If there’s a sale at Bliss
Boutique,” she answered, “I can leap over anything and anyone.” Her hands fell
away from her waist and she reached into the backseat for her briefcase.
“What’s going on, Katie? Delivering some yummy Sky High goodies?”

“More like consulting on yummy
diamond earrings,” I said.

“I thought Connie might ask your
opinion about the package the housekeeper found.” The twinkle in her eye slowly
faded. “Although, I also hope that your advice was to call me.”

Before I could assure her that’s
what I always did when someone asked for guidance about similar matters, the
front door opened and Connie stepped outside. “Well, it really
is
a
small world, isn’t it?”

Dina’s laugh was bright. “Why don’t
we all go inside?” she suggested. “I was actually on my way here to talk to
Carter Devane when you called, Connie. Maybe we can all chat together and cover
everything with one conversation?”

“That makes sense,” I said.
“There’s a very good chance that all of it’s related anyway.”

Dina shrugged before making her way
up the steps and through the door. I followed along, smiling at the cagey clerk
behind the front desk. He acknowledged my return with a pleasant grin,
recovering some of the Brownie points he’d lost during our earlier exchange.

When we walked into the lobby, a
young woman in chef’s coat was waiting for Connie. They conferred for a moment
in hushed voices before Connie said she would join us for the meeting in a few
minutes.

“Sounds good,” Dina said. “I’m sure
Kate and I can handle things in the meantime.”

I expected Dina to walk toward
Connie’s office, but she headed for the cocktail lounge located just off the
lobby.

“I spoke to Mr. Devane a few
minutes ago,” she said over one shoulder. “I’m meeting them in the bar.”

Before I could ask who else she was
expecting, I saw the answer through the open door of the lounge: Velma
Lancaster was nestled beside Carter Devane on one of the bar stools. Her hair
was tied back with a colorful silk scarf and a pair of diamond studs glinted on
her ears. When he noticed us walking toward them, Devane got up and extended
one arm.

“Detective Kincaid,” he said as
they shook hands. “We only have about five minutes. I need to jump on a
conference call with the Minty Dog manufacturer to discuss some quality control
issues. I sold the company, but I’m still involved as a consultant.”

Dina smiled. “You may want to push your
call back a bit,” she suggested, moving to a nearby table. “I’m not sure we can
cover everything in such a small amount of time.”

“Maybe you can talk fast,” Velma
suggested with a chilly smile. “Or skip over the questions that we’ve already
answered a thousand times.”

Carter was getting ready to say
something when Connie Larson called to Dina from the entrance of the lounge.

“Sorry, detective!” she trilled.
“We had a little emergency in the kitchen!”

Dina waved her over to the table. “That’s
no problem at all. Do you have the items that we discussed?”

The hotelier offered the package in
her hand to Dina. When the transfer was complete, Dina asked Carter and Velma
to join us at the table.

“I’m perfectly comfortable right
here,” Velma said, sipping the glass of wine in her hand.

The vein in Dina’s neck pulsed.
“I’m sure you are, but I’d like everyone to sit over here so we can talk
face-to-face.”

It took a few moments for Velma and
Carter to settle in at the table. Connie stood nearby, anxiously kneading her
hands as she listened.

“First of all,” Dina began, smiling
at the couple, “thank you for taking a moment to discuss the latest development
in our investigation.” She paused briefly, but neither Carter nor Velma reacted
to the comment. “Connie? Can you tell us about the items in this envelope?”

Connie stepped closer. “Well,
uh…housekeeping found them in Mrs. Lancaster’s original room. She’d asked to
change because there—”

“There was a draft,” Velma said.
“And an odor from the kitchen. Not to mention all of the noise in the hallway.”

“Thank you for that, Mrs.
Lancaster,” said Dina. “I can understand wanting to be as comfortable as
possible.”

Velma glared at the self-assured
detective before flashing a cold look in my direction.

“Now then,” Dina continued, smiling
at Connie again. “The items in that package were found in her room?”

“Yes, the housekeeper was making
the bed,” Connie explained. “When she went to tuck in the sheet, she discovered
the things hidden beneath the mattress.”

“Diamond earrings and a copy of the
same rhyming threats,” Dina said, glancing at me. “Is it the same poem that
Boris Hertel delivered to Sky High, Katie?”

“Identical,” I said. “And Trent had
mentioned that a pair of diamond-and-pearl earrings were stolen from Mr.
Devane’s residence in Aspen.”

Carter nodded. “Thirty-thousand
dollars worth of diamond-and-pearl earrings, to be exact.”

Connie whistled and smiled. “Really?
My guess was way off then. I was thinking they were more like ten or fifteen
grand.”

Dina’s phone rang, but she didn’t check
the display. Instead, she opened the envelope, removed the contents and unwrapped
the earrings.

“They really are stunning,” she
said.

Velma heaved a sigh. “Are we going
to drool over the jewelry or is there a point to this meeting?”

The vein in Dina’s neck pulsed
faster. “Of course, there’s a point,” she said. “I hope to accomplish two
things here today, Mrs. Lancaster. I’d like you both to listen to a 911 call from
the night of the fire and Jacob Lowry’s murder. And I’d also like to ask who
might’ve visited your room here at the Lodge?”

Velma’s lips formed a flirtatious
smile. “Are you asking about my love life, detective?”

Dina swiveled slowly in her chair.
“I don’t know,” she said in an icy tone. “Am I?”

The dark-haired beauty swept the
bangs from her eyes. “Well, if you are,” she sighed with a melodramatic
whimper, “that’s absolutely
nothing
I’ll discuss with a bunch of
strangers who don’t—”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lancaster,” Dina said.
“I’m not interested in your love life. I asked about visitors to the room that
you just vacated.”

Velma wrinkled her nose. “I had to
move,” she groused. “The first one smelled like mold and dirty gym socks.”

I checked Connie’s expression, but
she didn’t react to the taunt. Her ever-present serene smile remained
unchanged, although she gave me a quick wink when she noticed that I was
looking her way.

“And so…?” Dina’s voice was steady
and strong. “Let’s try this again, Mrs. Lancaster. Did anyone visit your original
room before the hotel staff moved you to a new suite?”

Velma pursed her lips and fanned
her fingers out on the table. She studied her nails carefully for a few seconds.
Then she slowly answered Dina’s question; five visitors had been to her first room—Carter
Devane, Kevin Hertel and Jacob Lowry as well as her father and his girlfriend.

“Marla Soble?” Dina said.

Velma sneered. “I can’t stand the
woman,” she said. “So I prefer not to speak her name.”

When I noticed Dina’s jaw tighten,
I decided to intervene and hopefully avoid any additional tension.

“Mr. Devane?” I said. “Do you
suspect Kevin or Jacob might be capable of breaking into your home?”

He frowned. “Capable?” The word was
edged with disdain and impatience. “Anybody could’ve opened an unlocked garage
door. Heck, even a child could’ve done it.”

Dina’s chin lifted slightly. “I
doubt if a child burglarized your home, Mr. Lancaster. But, if they did, then
I’d find it highly unlikely that they would steal your wife’s earrings and
bring them to Mrs. Lancaster’s room here at the Crescent Creek Lodge.”

Devane laughed. “Good point. I
guess that’s why you’re the detective and I’m just the dude that’s known for
dog breath chews.”

Dina glanced at her notes. Then she
asked Devane to explain his relationship with Kevin Hertel and Jacob Lowry.

“Ah, c’mon,” he griped. “We did
that already. I told you everything. I also told that other detective. And I
told your commander-in-chief, the chubby guy with the big head.”

I smiled. “You think Deputy Chief
Walsh has a big head?”

Devane smirked. “Whatever. I just
don’t see the value in going over the same things time and time and time
again.”

“That’s often the way a case like
this is solved,” I said. “Don’t you agree, Detective Kincaid?”

Dina considered the question. “I
do,” she said finally. “And that’s why, Mr. Devane, I would like you to take us
through everything that you know about the day that your residence on
Willoughby Way in Aspen was burglarized.”

Despite his obstinate attitude and
the crabby tone in his voice, Carter Devane slowly recounted the events related
to the burglary. When he finished, Dina thanked him for being so descriptive.

“I’ve never heard a pair of
earrings worth thirty-thousand dollars described as ‘glittery junk’ before,”
she said. “But I guess we learn something new every day, right?”

The wealthy business man smiled. “No
doubt. I keep learning what a wonderful community of kindhearted souls you’ve
got here in Crescent Creek.” He shot a harsh look at Velma. “When I first met
Mrs. Lancaster here, she made it sound like a cesspool of bloodthirsty gossips.
But I guess that’s because she was a fallen angel hell-bent on ruining her
mommy and daddy’s lives.”

Velma sighed so vigorously the
cocktail napkin in front of her skittered into the middle of the table. “Nobody
wants to hear your opinions, Carter. This isn’t about me anyway. It’s about you
and somebody who wants some of your money from the sale of Minty Dog.”

“To be clear,” Dina said, “we don’t
actually know the full scope of this case. We have a burglary at the Devane
residence. We have a suspicious fire. And we have the apparent murder of your
friend, Jacob Lowry. Based on the cryptic note left at the scene of each
incident, along with the jewelry hidden in your room, Mrs. Lancaster, I’d say—”

“Have you talked to my father’s
girlfriend?” Velma suddenly blurted. “Maybe she killed Jacob and stole the
things from Carter’s house.”

Dina pushed against the arms of her
chair, straightening her back slightly. “And why would she do that?”

“Well, golly,” Velma said in a low
hiss. “You’re the sleuth here, Miss Kincaid. Shouldn’t you ask where she was
the day of the break-in?”

CHAPTER
30

Waiting for Dina to respond to the
taunt from Velma Lancaster seemed to take forever. Even the couple enjoying a
bottle of wine and charcuterie plate at the bar seemed aware that the tension
at our table was escalating with each passing minute.

“Mind if I make a suggestion?” I
said finally.

Dina looked over. “That would be
very welcome, Katie. What is it?”

“Why don’t you play the 911 tape?
Maybe Mr. Devane or Mrs. Lancaster will recognize the caller’s voice.”

“Is that really necessary?” Carter
asked. “Neither Velma nor I had anything to do with the fire or the death of
our friend. You’ve already confirmed our alibis for the hours leading up to the
incidents as well as the rest of that night.”

Dina concentrated on her phone.
When she’d located the recording of the 911 call, she glanced up and asked if
Carter and Velma were ready.

“Let’s get it over with,” said
Velma. “You’ve wasted enough of our time.”

“I’m just doing my job,” Dina said,
tapping the phone with one finger.

After a brief flurry of static, the
emergency dispatcher greeted the caller before a woman announced that she’d
spotted a fire at Pemberton’s auto body shop.

“It’s a raging inferno,” she said.
“And the guy that owns the place is on the ground in front of the shop with—”

“That could be anyone,” Carter
Devane said dismissively. “Betty Boop, Betty Rubble, Betty—”

Velma touched his arm to stop the
tirade as the emergency dispatcher confirmed the location of the fire.

“Is that correct, ma’am?” the man
asked. “You’re calling about Pemberton’s body shop on Dunkirk?”

“That’s what I said,” the woman
replied. “It’s a
huge
fire. And the owner’s been beat up pretty bad. I’d
say it looks like he was in the wrong place at not the right time.”

I was still watching Velma
Lancaster when the anonymous caller invoked Ira Pemberton’s familiar phrase.
Her fingers tightened around Carter Devane’s wrist and her face registered an
unexpected surprise: wide eyes, lips parted slightly and shallow wrinkles
across her forehead.

“Mrs. Lancaster?” I said when the
tape ended. “Do you recognize the voice?”

“Not exactly,” Velma said. “It
wasn’t the best recording in the world. But I did hear something…well,
something fairly unusual toward the end.”

“And what was that?” Dina asked.

“There’s this thing that my dad has
said ever since I was a little girl: ‘in the wrong place at not the right time.’”
She glanced from Dina to me and then back again. “Did you hear it, detective?”

“Yes, of course.” Dina put her
phone on the table. “The woman on the recording is, we believe, somehow
involved with what happened that night.”

Carter Devane grunted. “Based on
what? A 911 call?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Dina said. “As
well as other evidence and witness interviews. Besides, Crescent Creek is a
very small town, Mr. Devane. Several people with the Police Department are
pretty sure they recognized the voice.”

“Well, who is it?” Velma demanded.
“Why did you have us listen to it if you already know who she is?”

“I wanted to see if you’d recognize
her voice or the phrase that your dad uses,” Dina answered.

Velma glared furiously. “So? That
doesn’t explain why you’re pestering Carter and me.”

Dina smiled, keeping calm and
staying relaxed. “I didn’t realize that I was pestering you, Mrs. Lancaster. In
my view, I’m talking with you about the investigation into the murder of your
friend, Jacob Lowry.”

The rebuke, subtle and delivered
with a genial smile, did the trick. Velma Lancaster’s demeanor instantly
softened. She straightened her shoulders, leaned forward in her chair and sighed.

“I’m sorry, detective,” she said.
“It’s been a rough few days. I’m obviously not handling the stress very well.”

Dina’s friendly smile deepened.
“That’s understandable. You’re both going through a challenging situation here.
Between the burglary at Mr. Devane’s house, the death of your friend and the
fire at your father’s business, it’s no wonder you’re feeling the pressure and
emotion.”

“Yes, we are,” Carter agreed,
putting one hand on his companion’s arm. “But Velma’s doing great with it all.”

She managed a feeble smile before
directing her gaze at a spot on the floor. The expression on her face had transformed
from irritated and angry to resigned, worn-out and eager to be anywhere but the
cocktail lounge at the Crescent Creek Lodge discussing the fire and murder. I
watched her eyes as they drifted back and forth in a restless loop. Then I
asked her again if she recognized the woman on the 911 call.

“No, I don’t.” She slowly glanced
up at me. “Nothing’s changed in the last, like, thirty seconds.”

“Do you know the woman your
father’s been dating off and on?” asked Dina.

Velma frowned. “What about her?”

“We’re pretty certain that’s her on
the tape.” Dina paused, waiting for a reaction. When there was no change on
Velma’s face, she went on. “We believe it’s Marla Soble. But you know that
already, don’t you?”

Velma raised one eyebrow, although
she made no effort to speak.

“And you know,” Dina continued, “that
she and your father have a rather tempestuous relationship.”

“Everybody knows that,” said Velma.
“It’s the same type of thing he had with my mother; the man is dysfunctional
and juvenile, so he has no idea how to treat a woman properly.”

“Is that why you tried to intervene
with the blackmail scheme all those years ago?” asked Dina.

Velma laughed. “Intervene?”

“I’m aware of what happened when
you were eighteen,” Dina said. “There’s no need to resurrect the past, but—”

“My father was abusive to my
mother!” Velma blurted. “Nobody knows the real story except the three of us.”

“Well, as I said,” Dina replied,
“there’s no reason to breathe new life into ancient history. I simply wanted to
acknowledge that you do have experience fabricating narratives and manipulating
the truth.”

“Hey!” Carter snapped. “That’s not
necessary!”

“It’s the truth,” Dina said.

“And it’s relevant in situations
like these,” I added.

One corner of Velma’s mouth
quivered. “I may not have a clean record,” she said. “And my life may not
mirror yours, Miss Reed. But I’m
not
a murderer. I could
never
do
something like that.”

For a brief moment, I thought she
might continue the rant. But her fervor cooled as quickly as it ignited,
leaving a hushed chill in its place. I thought about saying something to defuse
the tension, but then I realized Dina was readying her next question.

“Very well then,” she said, turning
to Carter Devane. “What can you tell us about the significance of the earrings and
book that were taken from your home?”

Devane’s face registered intense
irritation before he answered. “Why do you want to know about those things?” he
said. “Shouldn’t you be looking for Jacob’s killer? The burglary at my house
seems inconsequential by comparison.”

Dina nodded. “We believe the
incidents are connected,” she said.

Carter’s attempt at surprise was
obviously feigned. When he asked for proof, Dina reached into her pocket and
pulled out a copy of the rhyming threats.

“For starters,” Dina said, holding
up the poem, “we have this; it was found at both your home and the scene of Mr.
Lowry’s murder.”

“Okay,” Devane said. “Maybe the two
things are connected. I still don’t understand why you’re talking to us again?
Shouldn’t you be out looking for the person that murdered Jacob?”

Dina’s smile was friendly, but I
caught the flash of annoyance in her eyes. “I’m not working alone, Mr. Devane.
The Aspen PD is investigating the burglary. And there are several people from
our department doing everything they can to identify Mr. Lowry’s killer. In the
meantime, we need to get as much information and as many details as possible to
figure out how and why the incident at your home is connected to the fire and
murder at Pemberton’s body shop the other night.”

“Then what?” Velma said. “What do
you want to know?”

Dina folded the sheet of paper and
slipped it back into her pocket. Then she repeated her question about the
significance of the items stolen from Devane’s home in Aspen.

“The significance?” Devane smirked.

Dina smiled and nodded, but didn’t
say anything.

“For starters,” he said, mimicking
her tone a moment earlier, “they belonged to me. And they were stolen. Isn’t
that significant enough?”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit out of
the ordinary for someone to break in and take just those two items? Your home
is a stunning showplace, Mr. Devane. I saw the
Architectural Digest
cover story from a year ago, page after page highlighting your expensive art,
vintage antiques and priceless collectibles.”

Velma Lancaster leaned over and
whispered in Devane’s ear. He pushed her away with one hand and turned back to
Dina.

“The book and earrings were special
to me,” he said. “For personal reasons.”

Dina waited for him to continue.
When he didn’t elaborate on the cryptic reply, she pressed him to explain.

“The earrings originally belonged
to Velma’s mother,” he said. “She inherited them when Mrs. Pemberton died. But
they were associated with so many bad memories that she gave them to my wife a
couple of years ago. That may not make sense to you, but it wasn’t a big deal
to us. And the book was the first gift Velma bought for me back when…” He
glanced at Velma, but she looked away. “…well, it was when my wife and I were
considering a divorce and Velma had separated from her husband. We were both
going through a very difficult time, and we dated briefly. But that’s all a
long time ago. And we both eventually patched up our marriages, so…” He glanced
at Velma again, but her gaze was still fixed on Dina. “I don’t see how this
will help you find Jacob’s killer, detective. Shouldn’t you be focused on that
instead of trying to dig up dirt and gossip from the past?”

Dina lifted her chin slightly, her
lips forming a thin smile. “I’m not looking for dirt, Mr. Devane. I’m trying to
get the full picture here, and the items taken from your home may actually help
us find the person or persons responsible for your friend’s death.”

Velma slowly turned to face Carter.
They shared a silent moment, the tacit perception that Dina was neither enemy
nor persecutor; she was on their side and things would be less precarious if
they dropped the defensive posturing.

“Thank you,” Devane said after a
moment. “And I’m sorry if my temper keeps getting in the way. I’ve never lost a
friend to violence before. And I’ve never been part of a police investigation. These
things might be ordinary events for you, but they aren’t for us.”

Dina shook her head. “There’s
nothing ordinary about any of this,” she said. “We approach each incident as
significant, notable and worthy of the utmost consideration and effort.”

I shifted a bit to catch her eye.
When she looked up from her notes, I asked if we could talk about the button
that was found by Devane’s housekeeper after the break-in.

“I don’t believe that Mr. Devane or
Mrs. Lancaster have seen that yet,” I said. “Maybe it’ll spur something
helpful.”

“Good suggestion,” Dina said,
picking up her phone again and scrolling through a series of emails. When she
located the image, she looked first at Devane and then at Velma Lancaster. “I’d
like to show you a photograph provided to us by the Aspen Police Department.”

When she held up the phone, the
screen was filled with the button that the police recovered from Devane’s home
after the burglary.

“What is it?” Carter said, studying
the photograph.

Dina pointed at the phone. “It’s a
button that your housekeeper found on the floor just inside the kitchen door,”
she explained. “We’ve confirmed that it doesn’t belong to anything in your
closet or your wife’s wardrobe.”

When Dina swiveled the phone back
toward Velma, her jaw tightened.

“I’ve seen that before,” she said.

Dina raised one eyebrow. “The
button?”

Velma nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I
saw someone wearing a jacket with those buttons very recently.”

“And who might that be?” asked
Dina.

When Velma answered the question, I
saw Carter’s head jerk slightly in her direction.

“Are you
sure
?” Devane said.

Velma gulped in a breath. “Yes, I’m
sure. But there’s got to be an explanation. I don’t think he’d ever be capable
of something like...” She swallowed hard and slumped back in her chair. “Like
breaking into your home.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “…or taking another
person’s life.”