When Magic Is Murder (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 4) (6 page)

CHAPTER
11

For a brief moment, I imagined she’d
said something else; between the late hour and long day—not to mention two
glasses of wine and a full meal, I was feeling pretty drowsy. It was entirely
possible that I’d misunderstood what she’d told me.

So I asked her to repeat it,
listening intently to every word. Then I rolled the information around in my
mind for a few seconds. And then I asked her if she had any other bombshells to
drop.

“No,” she said, sounding defensive.
“And I don’t appreciate the insinuation, Katie. I wasn’t trying to be deceptive
or anything. I’m kind of going crazy with worry about all of this.”

I winced at the hurt in her voice.
“I wasn’t trying to imply anything, Connie. And I’m sorry if…well, if my direct
approach gave you that impression. But if you call me and ask for help with
something this sensitive, the first thing you need to be is candid.”

She muttered under her breath.
“It’s my fault,” she said. “I’ve always tried to protect Jasper, even when we
were little kids. He was overweight and shy. Everyone picked on him. That’s how
he got into trouble in the first place.”

“Hold on,” I said. “Your cousin
ended up in prison because he was shy?”

“I mean that he felt like there was
something to prove,” she explained. “That’s why he went drinking with the other
boys the night he got arrested. He’s not a bad person, Katie. He just made one
really
bad mistake when he was younger.”

I glanced at the clock in the
kitchen. It was almost midnight; less than five hours until my alarm would
scream the arrival of another Sky High day. I felt guilty even thinking about
postponing more of my conversation with Connie, but I also had responsibilities
of my own to manage. I knew that the whiteboard in the kitchen downstairs was
filled with prep lists, an overflow of special orders and notes for an upcoming
catering job.

“I hate to cut this short,” I said,
“but I need to get some sleep. Could you possibly stop by tomorrow for a few
minutes?”

“For what?” she asked.

“To tell me everything you know.”

“There isn’t much more really. I
mean, there was the fight between Jasper and the dead guy, but—”

“Connie!” I interrupted. “That’s
exactly
the kind of thing I need to know. And something you’ll have to tell Dina.”

“I guess so,” she murmured. “I’m
going to explain everything to her first thing in the morning.”

“I think you should do it now,” I
said. “If you call the station and tell them it’s urgent, they’ll relay the
message to her tonight.”

“I already did,” she told me. “I
called them. They called Dina. And I just got off the phone with her. She’s coming
to the Lodge tomorrow morning at eight.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling a wave of
relief. “That’s definitely the right thing to do.”

“But I
still
want your help,
Katie!” Her voice was coiled and tight, the result of an astonishing amount of
stress and worry and fear. “I
need
it, okay?”

“I’m here for you, Connie. And for
your cousin. But I don’t know how much I can do, especially if Jasper has been
arrested.”

She scoffed. “Well, it wasn’t for
murder,” she said. “The stupid lughead was so worried about withholding
information from Dina that he went out, got drunk as a skunk and ended up
behind bars for public intoxication.”

“Lughead is putting it mildly,” I
said. “Two wrongs do not make anything but two wrongs.”

“I know.” Connie sighed again, a
defeated groan that rumbled through the line. “But he’s family. And I’m going
to stand by his side.”

“That’s admirable,” I said. “But he
is an adult.”

“Most days. There are definitely
times, like this stupid stunt tonight, when I wonder how far he’ll backslide.”

“Meaning?”

“Jasper’s been in AA for the past
few years,” she said quietly. “He got sober when he went to prison. And he did
his time, fair and square. But this situation today…” She paused and cleared
her throat. “No, let me start again,” she continued. “This
lie
today…when
he wasn’t forthcoming with Dina…is the last thing he needs.”

“I don’t disagree,” I said. “It
doesn’t look very good.”

“Well, Jasper knows that he
completely messed up by not telling Dina that he’d met the man before. But he
was scared and worried.”

“You can start setting that right
in the morning,” I said. “Tell Dina what you know. Then Jasper can tell her the
rest.”

“And you’ll…help prove his
innocence?” she asked in a halting voice.

“I’ll do what I can,” I promised.
“But you need to tell Dina before I can get involved.”

“Definitely,” Connie said. “I’ll
share everything I know when she stops by in the morning. And then I’ll tell
you a bit later in the day.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I’ll also want to discuss hiring
you to do a little checking around. I didn’t know who else to turn to about
Jasper’s situation. And I certainly don’t expect you to do it for free.”

“Well, I appreciate the offer,
Connie. But I’ll be happy to help Jasper at no charge. After all, that’s what
friends do, right?”

She made one final attempt to
change my mind, but dropped the subject when it was obvious I wasn’t going to
budge. In the end, we agreed to meet in the morning at Sky High.

“Maybe I’ll even break my diet,”
Connie joked, “and have a slice of your grandmother’s Pecan Caramel Crumble
Cake.” She giggled. “That’s one of the best goodies I’ve ever tasted, Katie. I
actually think your Nana Reed was a culinary wizard!”

I thanked her for the kind words.
Then I promised to make a fresh Crumble Cake first thing in the morning. “In
the meantime,” I added, “try to get some sleep, okay? Maybe a glass of warm
milk and some of those deep breathing exercises you told me about last week.”

She actually managed a faint laugh.
“I don’t think I can even close my eyes,” she said softly. “But I’ll do my
best, Katie.”

“See you tomorrow, okay?”

But she hung up without another
word, leaving me to juggle dozens of perplexing questions as I got ready for
bed and turned out the light.

CHAPTER
12

The next morning at nine-thirty, as
I measured flour for a batch of Mini Chocolate Pecan Pies, Harper tiptoed into
the kitchen with a wary look on her face.

“Miss Reed?”

I put down the measuring cup.
“What’s with the formality, Miss Anderson?” I asked. “Are we on a hidden camera
show that I don’t know about?”

She rolled her shoulders. “I’m
sorry to interrupt, but…” She looked down at the order pad in her hands.
“There’s a fairly grumpy police detective in the dining room.”

“Male or female?” I asked.

She giggled.

“Uh-oh,” I hesitated. “Is it more
like animal, vegetable or—”

“It’s Dina Kincaid,” Harper said in
a no-nonsense tone. “What did you do to get on her bad side?”

“How do you know she’s upset with
me?” I asked innocently. “Maybe she woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Harper’s mouth wriggled into a
frown. “Hmmm, she hasn’t even been to bed yet. She told me the crime scene at
the Lodge kept her up all night.”

I thanked Harper for letting me
know Dina was in the dining room. Then I took off my apron, smoothed my hair
and walked into the front of the café. I saw Dina, scowling at her phone as she
angrily swiped the screen. I also saw Reverend Tuttle sitting alone in the
corner, quietly enjoying a stack of Cinnamon Mocha Chocolate Chip Pancakes. I
made a mental note to stop and ask him after my chat with Dina about the
redhead at Uncommon Grounds.

“You can drop the act,” the tired
detective smirked when I sat across from her at a small table near the front
windows. “It’s not working.”

“What’re you talking about?” I
tried to sound innocent and carefree even though I knew the answer to my own
question. “What’d I do now?”

“It’s the cheery grin,” she said
with a slight nod. “Along with the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed pretense. I
know you had a call from Connie Larson last night about her cousin. I’m here
this morning so we can have a little chat.”

I did my best to look even more
bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Then I said, “Fire away, Detective Kincaid!”

She groaned. “This
isn’t
a
joke, Katie.”

“Do you hear me laughing?” I
stopped smiling and leaned forward in my chair. “I’m just surprised to see you
in person. I figured you’d call to read me the riot act.”

“You know what?” Dina said,
sounding dog-tired. “Can you just tell me what you know?”

“About Jasper?”

She nodded; glowering through
drowsy eyes while her lips formed an impatient pout.

“I don’t know much,” I said.
“Connie called late last night to ask me for help proving that he didn’t have
anything to do with John Doe’s death.”

“That part I know,” Dina said. “I
went by the Lodge earlier. Connie and I had a nice heart-to-heart about what it
means to be honest.”

“Did she lie to you?”

Dina made a face. “I’m asking the
questions here, Katie. When did she tell you about Jasper’s felony conviction
and time in prison?”

“Last night.”

Her forehead creased with
suspicion. “Seriously?”

I smiled again, making sure it was
neither bright-eyed nor bushy-tailed. Then I told Dina about the conversation
I’d had with Connie the previous evening.

“And that’s it?” she said doubtfully
when I finished. “She’d never mentioned it before?”

“I didn’t even know they were
related until yesterday,” I said.

She narrowed her gaze. “But I
thought you and Connie were pretty good friends.”

“We are,” I said. “But we haven’t
discussed every branch of our family trees. When I go to the Lodge, it’s
usually to deliver a special order for a party. Sometimes I see Connie, other
times someone from the catering staff. But when it’s just Connie and me, we
don’t talk about things like cousins and families and whatever.”

Dina’s icy sneer began to soften.
“Until last night, huh?”

I nodded. “That’s right. Because
last night it was germane to our conversation.”

She snickered. “Oh, I love it when
you use big words, Katie.”

I smiled. “Conversation isn’t such
a big word.”

“Oh, jeez,” she said, actually
laughing. “I wasn’t talking…you know something? Let’s just cut to the chase,
okay?”

I nodded.

“Are you planning some type of
investigation into the death at the Lodge?”

“I don’t know if I’d call it an
investigation, but Connie asked me to make sure her cousin isn’t somehow
involved.”

Dina considered my response. Then
she sighed loudly, put her elbows on the table and cupped her chin with both
hands. “Oh, Katie! What would I do without you being unpredictable and
meddlesome? You’ve got a way of keeping things especially interesting for me.”

I blurted a laugh that caused heads
to turn at a nearby table. After apologizing to the guests for the outburst, I
looked at Dina. “Me? Unpredictable and meddlesome? I don’t exactly follow you
there, Detective Kincaid.”

“That probably sounded different
than I intended,” she said. “And you’ll have to forgive me; I was up all night
trying to identify the victim.”

“Any luck?”

She shook her head. “I know what he
weighs. I know he had a pretty bizarre collection of stuff in his pockets. And
I know he likes to wear too much cologne.”

“That’s all good preliminary
information,” I said. “Would you be interested to learn where he got into a
fight the night before last?”

Dina’s mouth quivered slightly.
“What was that?”

“The guy was at Bier Haus two
nights ago,” I said.

Her eyes brightened with interest.
“Did you see him there?”

“No, but I have it on good
authority that he was in the bar with a woman,” I explained. “And, apparently,
she started flirting with Jasper and his coworker, and…well, that’s when all
hell broke lose.”

Dina flipped to a blank page in her
notepad. “Who told you about this?”

I filled her in on what Zack had
mentioned during dinner at Luigi’s. Then I explained that Connie had confirmed
the story; Jasper and a Lodge employee named Shane Scott had been in an
altercation with a guy at Bier Haus.

“Ah, so
that’s
what she was
talking about,” Dina said, absentmindedly tapping the pen against her chin.

“Who?” I asked.

“Connie Larson. When I spoke with
her this morning, she told me that Jasper recognized the vic because they’d
been in an argument of some kind.”

“And it sounds like it started with
a woman,” I added.

A mischievous smile materialized on
Dina’s face. “Innocent until proven guilty,” she said firmly. “Until I talk to
all of the involved parties, I’ll reserve judgment about who started what with
whom.”

CHAPTER
13

I watched Dina go out the front
door, considering her remark for a few seconds. Then I looked to see if
Reverend Tuttle was still at his usual table.

A robust 72-year-old lifelong
Crescent Creek resident with a fondness for long walks in the mountains, gospel
music and Bible study classes, Reverend Tuttle was one of my favorite Sky High
regulars. He always greeted me with a kind word, a friendly smile and an
amusing anecdote. As I crossed the dining room, Harper was refilling his coffee
cup. She reminded him about our special pricing on cupcake gift packages, gave
me a little wink and then headed for a party of three burly men wearing ski
pants and fleece hoodies.

“Reverend Tuttle?” I said quietly.
“How is everything?”

The easygoing elderly man looked at
me over the top of his gold-rimmed glasses. They were smudged with fingerprints
and a bit of maple syrup. He was dressed in his customary dark sweater, black
slacks and starched white shirt.

“Well, good morning, Katie!” he
answered. “I may sound like a broken record, but you’ve outdone yourself again!
These pancakes are out of this world!”

“It’s actually Julia. She’s our
pancake mastermind.”

He chuckled before using his knife
and fork to carefully carve a small chunk of the flapjacks. Then he popped the
bite in his mouth and hummed with delight as he chewed and swallowed.

“Do you mind if I ask a question?”

His eyes twinkled. “I believe you
just did, young lady!”

“Yeah, I guess so. How about one or
two more?”

“Certainly, Katie,” he said. “Is
this about my social media experiment last week?”

I’d heard a few people discussing
the sermon he delivered the previous Sunday. In an attempt to reach younger
members of the congregation, Reverend Tuttle had tweeted a few homilies from
the pulpit during the sermon. Although it was highly unusual and slightly left
of center, I thought his idea was certainly fitting for the audience.

“Actually, it’s about something
else,” I explained.

He gestured at the empty chair
across the table. “Then take a load off, Katie. You’re on your feet about a
gazillion hours a day. Let this be a brief respite from all the running
around.”

I thanked him for the invitation,
pulled out the chair and asked if he remembered the redheaded woman at Uncommon
Grounds the previous day. “She was dressed casually,” I added. “Like she’d just
come from a yoga class.”

Before answering, he sipped his
orange juice and dabbed his lips with a napkin. “I believe that you’re
referring to Annabelle Dunkin’s sister,” he said. “For some reason, I think her
name is Bethany. But I’m not one-hundred percent certain, Katie. I could always
call Annie and ask.”

“Oh, no! That’s not necessary. I
was talking to…” I didn’t want to mention the coffee shop owner by name, so I
quickly changed gears. “…uh, to a friend, and they thought Bitsy Sanger was in
the coffee shop at that time yesterday morning. I was wondering if it was her.”

Reverend Tuttle pursed his lips,
deep in thought. “Our Bible group met for at least two hours yesterday
morning,” he said a moment later. “And I certainly didn’t see Miss Sanger
during that time.”

“And the redhead was Annie Dunkin’s
sister?”

“Absolutely!” He nodded
confidently. “She stopped by our table for a quick hello.”

“Do you know who she was with?”

He squinted. “Wasn’t she alone?”

“The friend that I mentioned told
me that the redhead was talking outside the coffee shop with a man in a
tuxedo.”

The reverend smiled. “Oh, you’re
entirely correct, Katie! She told us that she had to run because she saw
someone that she knew pass by on the street.”

“Do you know if he is—”

“A magician!” he said, rubbing his hands
together. “With a funny name. You know, like The Great Thingamajig or The
Amazing Whatnot.”

“The Amazing Whatnot?” I laughed.
“I don’t think I’ve heard of that one.”

“Well, of course not,” Reverend
Tuttle said. “Because I just made it up, Katie. My memory’s not as sharp these
days.” He pressed his hands together and put his chin on the fingertips. “I’m
older than dirt, you know.” His furrowed brow was replaced by a mischievous
grin. “Older, but I smell a whole lot better.” He held out one arm. “It’s my
new cologne, don’t you know!”

I leaned forward and sampled the
fragrance on his wrist. “That’s very nice. What’s it called?”

“Intenso,” he said. “It’s from
Italy. Very popular with the younger set, from what I’m told. My sister sent it
to me for my birthday. She told me to…let’s see if I can recall her exact
words. I believe she told me to ‘stop being an old fart and start living it
up.’” He frowned. “I’m sorry about the language, Katie. I hope that didn’t
offend you.”

“Absolutely not! I’ve heard far
worse in the kitchen when we get slammed by a busload of tourists.”

“Not that sweet Julia!”

I shook my head. “Nope. I’m usually
the one cussing up a storm.”

“Well, I suppose that’s one way to
let off a little steam,” he said as I pushed back from the table and got up.

“I’m going to let you finish those
pancakes in peace,” I said. “I need to get back in my office and take care of a
few things. But thanks so much for taking a moment to chat.”

His smile was warm and infinite.
“Oh, anytime, young lady. Are you sure you don’t want me to call Annie and have
her sister get in touch with you?”

“That’s sweet, but not necessary,”
I said, leaning down to give him a quick hug. “Have a wonderful day!”

As I walked away from Reverend
Tuttle, I thought about what he’d just told me and what I’d learned the day
before from Dean at the coffee shop. Annie Dunkin’s sister had purchased a
skinny soy latte and then talked with a man fitting the description of the
victim found in the gazebo. It didn’t explain the cause of his death, but it
possibly shed some light on how a coffee cup marked with the name Bitsy ended
up at the scene.

When I got to my office and settled
in at the desk, I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Dina with the
information about Bethany Dunkin.

“She’s going to love this,” I
muttered as I composed the note. “One less person to identify and two fewer
dots to connect.”