Murder for Millions (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 7) (9 page)

CHAPTER
20

Trent was in Dina’s office, sitting
in the dark by himself, when I came through the door and flipped on the light.
He was slouched behind the desk with a bag of pretzels balanced on his stomach
and a can of Diet Coke in one hand. When I’d called a half hour earlier to
report that I was on my way with the chocolate lava cake, he asked me to meet
him in Detective Kincaid’s office. She had gone out to interview witnesses for
another case, so he was camped out at her desk to make sure they talked as soon
as she returned.

“
Bon appétit
!” I cheered,
putting the Sky High carryout box on the desk. “Your cake has arrived!”

“Thanks, Katie.”

“My pleasure,” I said, sliding into
one of the chairs in front of Dina’s desk. “Your salty snacks sound more
appetizing than what I was just offered for dinner,”

“What was that?”

“Salmon Surprise. It’s a casserole
that Blanche—”

Trent stopped me with one hand.
“And you turned it down?”

I nodded.

“Big mistake, Katie. I know you
probably thought it smelled weird, but that’s one of the most amazing things
I’ve
ever
had in my life.” He stopped to glare and wag one finger. “Do
yourself a favor. The next time Blanche offers it, experience the power and glory
of Salmon Surprise.”

“In the meantime,” I said, gesturing
for one of his pretzels, “can
you
do
me
a favor?”

He nodded and held out the crinkly
cellophane bag. “What’s on your mind?”

“Can you explain why you’re sitting
at Dina’s desk alone with the lights off?”

“It smells nicer in here than my
office,” he said. “Besides, she doesn’t mind if I meditate in here while I wait.”

“Meditate?”

He smiled. “Yeah, you know—think
about things, mull over cases, contemplate the meaning of life.”

“How’s that going for you?”

He held up the Diet Coke. “So far,
so good. You want anything to drink?”

“I won’t be here that long,” I
said. “I have a couple more stops after this and there are still a few things
at Sky High that I need to finish.”

“Well, we should get to it then,”
he said, moving into a more upright position. “What was it you wanted to tell
me?” He smiled and sipped from the can. “I mean, besides the fact that you
totally cheated yourself out of an incredible meal at Blanche’s house.”

I skimmed over the attempt at humor
and went right to the Boris Hertel situation. I explained that Blanche and
Boris had been spending lots of time together. Then I recounted what she’d told
me about her new paramour being essentially sober lately so he could help his
son with a top secret project. And then I asked if they had any new leads about
the murder of Jacob Lowry.

“Slow down there, Speed Racer. What
was that about Boris being sober?”

“According to Blanche, he’s been almost
completely off the sauce for a few weeks.”

“Then why did you tell me that he
reeked of liquor?”

“Because he did.”

Trent crunched a pretzel,
contemplating the exchange. Then he asked me to repeat everything that Blanche
had told me during our conversation. He listened carefully, drinking the Diet
Coke and nibbling on pretzels. When I finished, he wiped his mouth with a
napkin and leaned forward in the chair.

“Okay, I’ve got all of that,” he
said. “But there’s one thing I don’t know.”

“What’s that?”

“Where is Boris Hertel?” Trent
said. “We’d like to talk with him about a few things, but it seems like he’s
suddenly MIA.”

I shrugged. “Blanche hasn’t seen
him for a couple of days. Haven’t you guys brought him in for questioning?”

Trent smiled, guzzled some more from
the can and went back to slouching. “Not yet. His neighbor told Denny Santiago
and Amanda Crane that Boris hasn’t been home in days. And there’s a pile of
mail in the box that confirms their statement.”

“You know, now that we’re talking
about him in detail,” I said, “there’s something I was curious about
yesterday.”

Trent smiled and plunged one hand
into the bag of pretzels again. He came out with a few, held them in my
direction and asked if I wanted another.

“No, I’m good, thanks. Didn’t you
tell me that Denny and Amanda picked up Boris at Tipton’s after he stole a
bottle of Glenfiddich?”

Trent chomped down on a pretzel. “Yep.
Shoplifting charge. But then George Tipton decided not to press charges. Said
he felt sorry for the old guy.”

“And then…what? Boris strolled out
of here and disappeared into thin air?”

Trent shrugged. “I don’t know about
the last part,” he said. “But I can confirm that Boris is no longer in lockup.”

“Don’t you think we should find
him?”

The bag of pretzels was empty. Trent
stared at it for a moment before he got up, crossed the room and dropped it
into the trash.

“What I wouldn’t give for some of
that Salmon Surprise,” he mumbled.

“Hey! Didn’t you hear me?”

He turned and blinked repeatedly.
“Sorry…” He plopped down on the desk chair again. “What was that, Katie?”

“I was talking about Boris Hertel,”
I said. “Shouldn’t we find him and see if he knows anything about Jacob Lowry?”

“I agree with that last part,” Trent
said with a lopsided grin. “But I don’t know why you’re saying ‘we,’ Katie.”

“Let me help,” I said. “In an
unofficial capacity, of course.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Like
you’ve done before a time or two?”

I held his gaze, but didn’t say
anything.

“Alright,” he said after a long
pause. “If you find Boris before we do, why don’t you let me know.”

“And vice versa?”

Trent chuckled. “We’ll see about
that,” he said. “I can’t make such momentous decisions on a nearly empty
stomach.” He put one hand on his belly. “You up for some barbecue? Smoky Joe’s
has half priced burnt end sandwiches today.”

I plucked my purse from where I’d
left it on the desk and stood up. “No can do,” I said. “I need to hit the bank
before they close and then pickup a few things at Food Town.”

He grumbled and reached for his
phone. “Party pooper. I’ll give Tyler Armstrong a buzz. He’s upstairs making
calls on the Lowry case. Maybe he’d like to take a break and get some grub.”

“I hope he’s up for it,” I said,
walking toward the hallway. “If he passes, why don’t you call your mom and
dad?”

Trent groaned. “That’s a sore
subject, Katie!”

“What happened?”

“I forgot my mother’s birthday,” he
answered. “For the second year in a row. They’re both kind of peeved at me, so
I’ll start with Tyler. If he passes, I’ll see if Red Hancock wants to go.”

“Well, I’m sure someone will have
pity on you,” I said as Dina swept into the office looking as gorgeous as ever.
She was wearing a dark jacket, white blouse and tan slacks with a pair of
gleaming black boots.

“Hey, kids!” she said, clearly in a
good mood. “Mommy’s home!”

Trent muttered something rude and I
gave him a disapproving look. “Hey! Don’t be disrespectful, big guy.”

“Well, what about her?” he
sputtered. “‘Mommy’s home’ is infantilizing you and me.”

“Where’d you hear that word?” I
asked.

He beamed a smile. “I was watching
Ellen the other day,” he said proudly. “It was on at my mom and dad’s when I
stopped by to try and make peace over the birthday thing.”

Dina flopped into the chair beside
me. “Okay, so…I’m sorry to infantilize you, Deputy Chief Walsh. My apology and
it’ll never happen again.”

He scowled. “Until it does, you
mean.”

“So?” Dina ignored his comment.
“What’s going on, Katie? How’re things at Sky High?”

“Oh, everything there is great! I
called Trent earlier after I talked to Blanche Speltzer about Boris and—”

“I heard they’re dating,” she
interrupted. “Is that true?”

I smiled. “Yes, I believe so.”

“Wow! She’s, like, eighty and
he’s…” She glanced down at notes on her desk. “He’s twenty years younger!”

“Who cares about that?” Trent
asked. “We’re working on the Jacob Lowry homicide and the arson at Pemberton’s
body shop.”

Dina’s face went from sunshine to
stormy in a split second. “Yes, that’s true. So…what did Blanche say about
Boris?”

I answered with the same
information that I’d already shared with Trent. Then I asked if Dina had any
thoughts about the whereabouts of Boris Hertel.

“Did you try his son?” she asked.

“Kevin?”

“Yep. A couple of our officers were
at Burger & Brew for lunch. They saw Kevin and his dad huddled in a booth.
Maybe Boris is staying with his son for the time being. I mean, in light of
what’s going on with Carter Devane and Jacob Lowry.”

I nodded, waiting for more.

“You know Jacob’s a part owner of
the place,” Dina said.

“The burger joint?”

“He and another guy from college
opened it a couple of years ago,” she explained.

“Did your officers happen to
overhear any of what was being discussed?” I asked.

“Between Kevin and Boris?”

“Right. When they saw them having
lunch together.”

Dina smiled. “No, they didn’t. But
I found out from another source and it was not what I expected.”

Trent sighed. “Well, what was it?”
he said in a snippy tone. “All of this talk about burgers is making me hungry.”

Dina glared at him silently for a
few seconds. Then she said, “Poetry.”

“Poetry?” I said in disbelief. “Boris
and Kevin Hertel?”

“I know,” Dina said. “It’s weird,
right? But get this—it’s also what Jacob Lowry and Kevin were discussing the
day that Jacob was murdered. They were in Burger & Brew sometime that
afternoon for a bite to eat.”

“Hold on there, detective!” Trent
said, suddenly more interested in the conversation than his next meal. “How’d
you hear about Jacob and Kevin discussing poetry?”

“Same source that told me about
Kevin and his dad: Rita Benedict. She called us after she heard that Jacob was
found at Ira Pemberton’s.”

“And how’d she know about that?” I
asked.

“This is Crescent Creek, Katie.
News travels fast.”

“I know that,” I said. “But don’t
you think it’s strange that she’d overhear both conversations?”

Dina smiled. “Not really. Rita quit
her job at Herman Bright’s agency. She said the insurance business no longer
made her happy. So she’s slinging hash at the burger place while she figures
out her next career choice.”

CHAPTER
21

Since Zack was in California and I
wasn’t in the mood to go back to an empty apartment, I decided to treat myself
to a cheeseburger, curly fries and a cold beer when I finished my errands.
After what Dina had told me about Rita Benedict overhearing Jacob and Kevin, I
decided a stop at Burger & Brew would allow me to satisfy both my curiosity
and the rumble in my stomach.

The popular dining spot was located
in a refurbished gas station. The place boasted a casual charm that was perfect
for a quick bite to eat. The interior had been painted bright white and the
stench of motor oil and automotive fluids was long gone.

As I walked through the front door,
I saw Rita delivering a pitcher of beer and frosty mugs to a couple of guys in a
booth. She smiled and waved before I sat at a small table near the bar.

“Hi, Katie!” she said a second
later as she headed my way. “How’ve you been?”

“Really great, thanks!” She put
down a glass of ice water and cutlery wrapped in a white paper napkin.
“Business at Sky High is clicking along.”

She reached into her apron for an
order pad. “And how’s Zack?”

“He’s perfect,” I answered. “He’s
in California this week for work.”

“And so you’re wining and dining
yourself at our fine establishment?”

“I’m in the mood for a burger,” I
said. “I don’t normally go out by myself, but the thought of even boiling water
tonight was too much.”

“Rough day?”

“Just in the mood not to cook,” I
said. “Do you ever feel that way?”

Rita laughed. “Monday through
Sunday! Since I started working here, I haven’t done much in my kitchen at home
besides open the mail and make coffee.”

“How do you like the change in
jobs?”

Her eyes expanded with delight.
“Oh, are you kidding me? I love Herman Bright to death, but sitting behind a
desk got to be too dull. I like to be on my feet, moving around, talking to all
the different people that come and go through a place like this. I’ll be thirty-two
next month, so I figured I should take a little break from office work to
figure out what I want to be when I grow up. My husband thinks I’m nuts, but he
wants me to be happy.”

“I hear you. Staying active and
meeting people are two of my favorite things about Sky High.”

“No doubt. Except I think you guys
have more fun things to eat than we do.” Her energetic smile weakened. “Not
that I get over your way much anymore.”

“How about I drop off something
special for you one day soon?” I suggested. “Pick your poison, and I’ll…” I
flinched at the choice of words. “Just name it, okay? Cookies? Maybe a pie?”

She laughed again. “That’s not
necessary, Katie. I’ll come by sometime if they ever hire another server here.”

“What happened to Libby?”

Rita rolled her eyes. “I believe
his name was Scooter,” she said.

I didn’t know what she was talking
about, so I asked her to fill me in.

“Libby met Scooter at a club in Denver
one Friday night,” Rita explained. “By the following Saturday, she’d quit her
job, moved out of her apartment and shipped everything to his place in Aurora.”

I smiled. Libby was nearly fifty,
so the impulsive changes seemed like either a midlife crisis or the very late
arrival of teen anguish.

“I’m happy for her,” Rita added.
“She called me the other night and said they’d rescued a puppy from a shelter.
Poor little critter only has three legs, but she’s happy as a pig in mud.”

“Who? Libby or the new dog?”

Rita’s melodic laugh filled the
small room again. “Probably both,” she said. “Now, tell me, girl. What can I
get for you?”

After I ordered my usual Burger
& Brew meal, Rita walked the ticket to the kitchen and came back a moment
later with my beer.

“Mind if I ask a quick question?” I
said as she put down the mug.

“What’s that?”

“Do you remember the other day when
Kevin Hertel and Jacob Lowry were in?”

She nodded.

“Dina Kincaid told me that you
heard them talking about poetry,” I said. “Is that right?”

“Uh-huh,” she said with another
nod. “But they weren’t exactly talking. It was more like a shouting match.”

“Dina didn’t tell me that part.”

Rita pulled out the opposite chair
and sat down. Then she leaned over the table and lowered her voice. “I need to
be discreet,” she whispered with a quick nod toward the two guys enjoying their
beer. “I don’t want customers to think I’m listening to every little thing they
say.”

“It’s okay. I know how it goes. We
hear all kinds of crazy things working at Sky High, either in the dining room
or sometimes when I’m back in the kitchen.”

“Why are you interested in what Jacob
and Kevin were talking about?”

“Just between you and me?” I asked.

She smiled. “As always, Katie.”

While she listened with keen
interest, I quickly explained the situation. I told her about Boris Hertel
delivering the strange note to me at Sky High. Then I explained that the fire
at Ira Pemberton’s was foretold by the anonymous missive. And then I gave her a
quick recap on the apparent connection between Kevin, Jacob, Carter Devane and
Velma Lancaster.

Rita frowned. “Velma who?”

“Lancaster,” I said. “She’s a
private investigator. It’s a long story, but there was a burglary in Aspen that
may be linked to other crimes in the area. Velma Lancaster works for a guy
named Carter Devane. He recently sold his company and made a cool ninety
million.”

“Dollars?” Rita said, raising one
eyebrow.

I nodded. “Super lucky guy!”

“And super rich! Maybe I should ditch
my hubby and get his number.”

I made a face. “Don’t bother,” I
said. “He’s already married. Not to mention that he doesn’t seem like a very
nice guy.”

“I’ll take your word on that one.”

“Trust me,” I said. “Now…back to
Velma Lancaster?”

Rita grinned. “Oh, right. Is she
the tall girl with dark hair?”

“I don’t know if I’d use the word
‘girl’ myself,” I said with the hint of a smile. “But she’s a leggy brunette who
has curves in all the right places.”

Rita grumbled something too faint to
hear. Then she said, “I think she was in here with Kevin and his dad a couple
days before the blowout between Jacob and the younger Hertel.”

“No kidding?”

She smiled. “Cross my heart, Katie.
I mean, I’m guessing it’s probably the same woman. The three of them seemed
pretty tense, but nobody raised their voice or threw any furniture.” She
laughed. “Which was something I worried about when Kevin and Jacob got into it.”

“Pretty wild argument?”

“Yes! And it was over a stupid
poem.”

“Did you hear any of it?”

“The argument?” She sneered and
shook her head. “I was just glad nobody else was here because their language
got pretty nasty.”

“I can imagine. But I was actually
wondering if you heard any of the poem. Did you catch anything specific?”

“Um…” The corners of her mouth
drooped as she considered the question. “Well, I didn’t really hear too much.
But it was short. And things rhymed. You know? Like a ‘moon,’ ‘June,’ ‘swoon’
sort of thing.”

I leaned closer. “Like maybe
‘desire’ and ‘fire’?”

Her eyes went wide. “Yes! Now that
you said it, they definitely kept talking about those two and a couple of
others.”

“Was it ‘blue’ and ‘you’ by any
chance?”

She squinted again. “Well…I can’t
say for sure, but—”

The front door opened and a woman
came in trailed by two kids: a boy of about ten and a slightly older girl. The
mother waved at Rita and crossed the restaurant to a table with four chairs.

“Sorry,” Rita continued. “Like I
said, I can’t recall exact sentences or anything, but I know for sure they were
talking about ‘desire’ something or other and ‘fire’ something or other.”

I smiled. “That’s really helpful.
Thank you so much!”

“Oh, sure. No problem.” She looked
at the new arrivals. “I should go and greet that table.”

“Of course,” I agreed. “I’ve got another
couple of questions after that if you don’t mind.”

She smiled and went over to the
newcomers. The two kids scowled as their mother ordered small milkshakes
instead of the large ones they requested.

“When I was your age,” the woman
said, “I was lucky if my mom took me for a milkshake even once a month.”

The young boy stuck out his tongue.
“You were never my age!”

“Actually,” the mom said, “I was
your age once, but it’s a long time ago.”

While the trio debated the
differences between present day and, as the girl described it, “like, fifty
million years ago,” I pulled out my phone and checked my calendar. The week
ahead was stacked with special orders, a follow-up meeting for a potential corporate
catering job and a presentation that I’d agreed to give to a group of high
school students interested in the challenges of running a small business.

“Sorry about that,” Rita said,
rushing back to my table. “Jody’s kids are usually sweet as punch, but not
today.”

I stole a quick glance at the
mother and children: three red faces, two sets of arms clamped across heaving
chests and one adult attempting to explain why life wasn’t fair one-hundred
percent of the time. A quick flashback to my own childhood shot through my
mind: my brother, sister and me in the backseat of my dad’s car as we headed
south to visit relatives in Oklahoma. A disagreement about the radio station
had smoldered for an hour before the entire sedan became engulfed in three
adolescents screeching at the top of their lungs until my mother switched off
the music altogether. “There!” she’d said in a crisp, definitive tone. “See how
you like listening to nothing for a few hundred miles!”

“Did I interrupt your work?” Rita
was saying when I swept away the memory.

I shook my head.

“Oh, okay,” she continued. “It just
looked like you were distracted or thinking about something.”

“Ancient memories,” I confessed,
smiling at the mother and her children. “Their bickering reminded me of my
family.”

Rita laughed. “Oh, heck! It’s like
every
family, don’t you think?”

“I suppose. But…well, two or three
more quick questions?”

“Go for it!”

“Okay, so…back to the other day
when Jacob and Kevin were here,” I said. “What did you hear them say before
they argued about the poem?”

She put one elbow on the table and
rested her chin in her hand. “Well, they were talking about college,” she said.
“I remember that much for sure—college and an apartment they shared with
somebody else, another guy I think.”

“Carter Devane?”

She frowned. “Sorry?”

“Did you hear them say that name in
relation to their college roommate?”

Rita’s forehead creased as she
strained to recall the details of the overheard conversation. “Well, you know,”
she began, “I don’t think they said that name. But there were times when they
were whispering, so I missed some of what they discussed.”

“Okay, what else?”

She pursed her lips. “Well, Kevin
Hertel had a sheet of paper that they kept passing back and forth. Like they
would read it, then talk about it, and then read it some more. I don’t think I know
the other guy—what was his name again?”

“Jacob Lowry,” I said.

She paused briefly before her eyes
narrowed. “Is that the one that was…” She looked at the two kids at the other
table as they began to squabble. “I didn’t think about it at first, Katie. But
now that you said it again it’s ringing a bell.” Her voice had softened even
more. “Didn’t he get killed at the body shop?”

I nodded. “He was found by the fire
department when they arrived to put out the blaze.”

“I just think that’s awful,” Rita
said. “Poor Ira Pemberton. So many years building up a business and then…” She
stopped, lifted her hand and snapped her fingers. “Like,
poof
! It’s gone
in a flash! Especially after all of the money trouble he’s been dealing with
lately in the…” She cringed and shook her head. “See? There I go divulging
things I overheard in here. I need to learn to do a better job of not listening
to private conversations.”

I smiled. “Sometimes it’s hard not
to.”

“Well, the main thing is that it
seemed like Ira was dealing with enough stuff before the body shop burned. Is
it true that he was also attacked before the fire?”

“Yeah, somebody hit him on the head
before it started.”

“Like they were trying to kill him,
too?”

I shrugged. “That’s a possibility.
Luckily, he wasn’t hurt too badly. And he’s got great insurance, so he’ll be
able to rebuild.”

“Amen to that.”

The bell in the kitchen chimed.
Rita pushed her chair back from the table and stood.

“They’re playing my song,” she
said. “I’ll be back with your food in a second, okay?”

“I’ll be right here!”

As she turned and walked toward the
kitchen, Rita stopped, did a quick pivot and hurried back to my table.

“I just thought of something else,”
she said, slipping into the chair again. “Kevin and Jacob kept talking about
Ira’s daughter.”

“I didn’t know he had one,” I said.

Rita sighed. “I know, right? They
had a falling out a really long time ago. I don’t know what it was over.” She
stopped, concentrating on the past. “And I can’t remember her name, but Janet
Plunkett told me—she and Janet were friends in high school—and Janet said Ira’s
daughter pledged to never again speak to her dad because she would never
forgive whatever it was he did.”

“Wow! It always amazes me when I
hear something like that. Between my mother, sister and Blanche Speltzer, it
seems like I’ve heard almost every scrap of dirt and gossip in town.”

Rita smiled. “I know. But it’s still
possible to keep a few things secret in a place this small. And that
really
takes some effort!”