Chocolate Most Deadly (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 2) (14 page)

I shook my head. “I run Sky High
Pies up in Crescent Creek.”

“That’s cool,” she said. “Is that a
bakery?”

“Exactly. We serve breakfast and
lunch plus a wide selection of pies, cakes and the like.”

The sound of applause spilled into
the hallway from the meeting room.

“Oh, shoot,” she said. “I should
go.”

“Okay, thanks again.”

She spun around, took a couple of
steps and then stopped. “Wait a sec,” she said quickly. “If you run the pie
place, why are you down in Denver trying to find Delilah?”

“I’m just helping a friend track
down her brother,” I answered. “I used to work as a private investigator, so
she asked me to see if I could find him.”

She nodded. “Are you talking about Anton?
The bald guy with the mustache that dragged Delilah out of the meeting?”

I stared at her silently as an
image of the man from Tim’s apartment building popped into my head. “Does he
have two gold hoop earrings?”

“Yep. I sometimes call him
Blackbeard the Pirate.”

“But his first name is really
Anton?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s not who I’m looking for,” I
explained. “My neighbor’s brother is Tim, Delilah’s boyfriend.”

Another wave of clapping sounded in
the meeting room, followed by loud joyful voices and whistling.

Hannah inched closer. “You want to
know the truth?”

I nodded.

“My sister’s got a massive crush on
Tim,” she whispered. “I tried to tell her that he and Delilah are really tight
and everything. Like, in love, right? But once my sister gets something in her
head, there’s no stopping her.”

One of the knit cap guys came into
the hall and called Hannah.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But I’ve
gotta go.”

“Of course, I totally understand,”
I said. “Thank you so much for coming out to talk with me.”

She shrugged. “Okay, cool. See ya!”

With one final grin, Hannah
scurried down the hallway and through the open door. I stood and listened for a
few seconds as someone called her name and the room exploded into a riot of
joyful praise. As I turned and headed for the stairs, I smiled. There was
something genuinely gracious about Hannah. I didn’t know her story. And I
didn’t know why she struggled with addiction. But it was gratifying to hear her
friends and fellow AA members honoring her achievement.

CHAPTER
30

On the way back to my car, I pulled
out my phone and dialed Detective Caldwell. He answered on the first ring. Then
he asked how I was before telling me that he’d just received an update from the
lead forensics tech that processed the crime scene at Delilah’s apartment.

“They found ten thousand in cash
hidden in the freezer,” he said. “A loaf of sourdough bread had been hollowed
out with a torx screwdriver and wrapped in foil.”

“With a
what
?”

He laughed. “Sorry, Kate,” he said.
“Probably more detail than you need. They used a torx screwdriver. It’s the
kind with a six-point star-shaped head instead of flat or Phillips.”

After listening to Angus Martin for
the past few weeks, I was becoming somewhat familiar with the contents of a
toolbox. Angus was the handyman at Sky High Pies. Whenever he stopped by to
repair anything, the visit included a few nuggets of wisdom about tools,
fasteners and DIY shortcuts. After thinking about Angus for a moment, I asked Caldwell
how they could be certain that a torx screwdriver had been used.

“Because they found motor oil on
the bread,” Caldwell explained. “Along with the distinguishing impression of a
torx head on the bottom of the loaf.” He paused, probably to see if I wanted to
challenge his assertion. When I stayed quiet, he came in with the most
conclusive evidence of all. “And they found the torx screwdriver, although it
had been wiped clean,” he said, sounding boldly authoritative. “Do you want to
know what else they found?”

“Was it an XZN?” I asked.

The line went quiet.

“Detective Caldwell?”

There was a ripple of static and
the sound of a weighty sigh.

“I’m here,” he said brusquely.

I smiled to myself. “Okay, good. I
thought maybe the call had dropped.”

“Nope,” he said. “I was thinking
about what an XAN might be.”

The self-satisfied grin widened on
my face. “Actually, it’s a X
Z
N. And it’s a type of screw driver with a
dozen tips that are spaced equally. Each of the twelve tips is—”

“Did you call me to discuss tools?”
Caldwell asked. “Because I’m at dinner with my girlfriend and the waiter is
hovering in the hopes that we’ll order sometime this century.”

“I’m so sorry that I interrupted
your dinner. Why didn’t you say something?”

“I believe that I just did, Kate.”

“Okay, I’ll make this quick,” I
said. “What else did they find in Delilah’s apartment?”

“You want the whole list?” he said
sarcastically. “I mean, the place wasn’t exactly shipshape. Delilah Benson is
never going to take home the Housekeeper of the Year Award.”

“How about the highlights?” I
suggested.

“I have it here in my pocket, ” he
grumbled. “I wish I could just give you a copy. But that’s on the ‘no can do’
list, which means—”

“Maybe just read off the first few
things on the inventory.”

He cleared his throat and inhaled
deeply. “Okay, so we also found ticket stubs to a Van Halen concert at Red
Rocks, an empty package of something called Down…” He stopped for a moment to
clarify the information. “No, sorry. That’s not right. It says
Rown
tree’s
Jelly Tots, whatever the heck that might be. And, uh, a copy of that weekly
newspaper
Westword
with a bunch of phone numbers on it.” He paused
again. “Is that enough for now, Kate?”

“Did you say Rowntree’s Jelly
Tots?”

“Yep. And I don’t know what that
is—maybe small children made from grape jam or something.”

I ignored his attempt at humor.
“Those are British candies,” I explained. “Like the soft, chewy kind, you know?
When I lived in Chicago, one of my friends was from London. She ate those
things like we breathe air.”

“How nice,” Caldwell said. “A
little stroll down Memory Lane for you?”

“Definitely,” I answered. “But it
could also be a clue about who killed Toby Wurlitzer.”

Caldwell laughed. “Your friend from
Chicago?”

I groaned. “Hey, detective?”

“Yes, Kate?”

“Don’t quit your day job,” I said.
“Standup comedy isn’t your strong suit.”

He overlooked the remark. “Are you
having any luck tracking down Tim England?”

“I’m still working on that,” I told
him. “I just talked to someone from AA to see if they knew anything helpful.”

“So much for anonymity.”

“I know, but Viveca is about to go
completely bonkers. I wanted to do some digging to see if I can find out where
Tim and Delilah might be staying.”

“Hiding,” he corrected me. “They’re
hiding
somewhere, not
staying
.”

“Six of one, half dozen of the
other,” I said. “Do you know anyone named Anton?”

“With the Denver PD?”

“Not likely,” I said. “Until after
they chase him down a dark alley. And then he’d be on the other side of the
bars from anybody with the police department.”

He clicked his tongue, thinking about
the name. Then he told me about a guy called Anton Hall who was rumored to be
involved in some nefarious activities with powdery white substances and stolen
artwork. “He also hangs with a punk named Jake Breen and a few of the city’s
other illustrious characters,” Caldwell explained. “If you want to have a
little chat, they’re both regulars at Tick-Tock Donuts on Tremont. It’s open
all night, which makes it very popular with hoodlums and insomniacs.”

“How about the donuts?” I asked.
“Are they any good?”

He snickered. “I’m sure they don’t
hold a candle to the things at your place, Kate. But don’t ask Anton.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s diabetic,” Caldwell said. “I
remember when he was picked up once on a suspicion of burglary charge. The
little jerk screamed bloody murder until someone checked with his doctor. They
brought in an EMT to make sure his blood sugar levels were okay.”

“I actually don’t blame the guy,” I
said. “I know someone with diabetes. It isn’t anything to fool around with.”

“Then he should’ve thought about
that before he went into crime as a full-time career,” Caldwell groused. “Why
are you interested in Anton Hall anyway?”

“Viveca and I ran into him the
other day,” I explained. “In the lobby of the building on Franklin where her
brother lives.”

“Before or after you found the dead
guy?”

“Not that day. The
other
other day. When we met Delilah after Bad Dog got out of Tim’s apartment.”

“I don’t even want to know who or
what Bad Dog is,” Caldwell said. “And I still don’t get the connection. Did
Anton do something to attract attention? Or did he somehow make you suspect he
might be involved with your friend’s brother?”

“No,” I answered. “He just seemed
shady. And that was before I knew he was associated with Delilah.”

“How is he associated with Delilah?”
asked Caldwell.

“I haven’t worked that out just
yet. But I stopped by the AA meeting that she and Tim attend, at that place on York
Street. Someone there told me that Anton Hall came into a meeting and
basically dragged Delilah out of the room.”

“Hang on a sec, okay?” I heard
scratching as he covered the phone. Then he came back on the line and told me
that his girlfriend and the waiter were both threatening to leave. “I’m sorry,
but we’re at dinner and I…” There was a brief pause. “I really need to go,
Kate.”

“Yes, of course,” I said, feeling
like a louse. “Thanks for telling me about the money in the freezer and Anton
Hall.”

“You bet,” he said. “And thanks for
telling me about the XZN screwdriver.”

“You’re welcome, detective,” I said
with a quiet laugh. “Please tell your girlfriend and the waiter that I’m sorry
for disrupting things.”

“I’ll be interested to hear what
else you find out about Delilah and Anton,” he added. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

CHAPTER
31

Every window in my sister’s house
blazed against the dark night when I pulled into the driveway. With two twelve-year-old boys and a forgetful husband, Olivia was forever pestering her family
to turn off the lights when they left a room. As I made my way up the sidewalk
to the front steps, I smiled at the glowing bungalow and reflected again on the
guilt I’d been feeling about visiting Denver in the past few days without
stopping to see her. I hoped that the bouquet of wild flowers in my hand and
the chilled bottle of pinot grigio in the crook of my arm would restore me to
good standing.

“Aunt Kate!” my nephew Caleb
screamed when he answered the door. “Perfect timing!”

He held out one hand for
inspection. I leaned in and saw the familiar racecar, thimble, Scottie dog and
top hat from Monopoly.

“We’re just getting started,” he
said. “What do you want to be?”

I reached over and tousled his
hair. “I can’t stay, champ. I just stopped by for a sec to say hello and give
these to your mother.”

He frowned. “She’s in the kitchen.”
He waited until I’d stepped into the entryway before closing the door. “And dad
already got her flowers yesterday.”

I followed my nephew down the hall
toward the chorus of voices competing for attention. When I came around the
corner, I saw my sister, her husband Cooper and Caleb’s twin brother Connor
grouped around the table.

“Kate!” Olivia cried. “You’re just
in time for Monopoly!”

I held out the flowers and wine
bottle. “I can’t stay, Liv. I’m just here for a quick minute to deliver these
and say hello.”

She got out of her chair, walked
over and gave me a hug before taking the bouquet and pinot grigio.

“What’s the occasion?”

I smiled at her. “Nothing special.
I had to come down again, so figured I’d pop in and see what sanity looked
like.”

My brother-in-law released a gruff
chuckle. “Things up in Crescent Creek making you crazy, Kate?”

“Crazier,” I said, walking to the
table. “After watching Nana Reed and mom and dad do this for so many years, I
kind of thought it’d be a breeze. But it’s hard work; physically, emotionally,
psychologically.”

Olivia came over, pulled out a
chair and pointed. “Sit,” she commanded. “I’ll pour you a glass of wine and you
can tell us all about it.”

“I wish I could, Liv. I’ve got
someplace else to be.”

She glared at me and put one hand
on her hip. “What now?” she said, eyes bulging. “Another AA meeting?”

I shook my head. “Donut shop,” I
answered, putting the chair back under the table. “And before you say a word,
I’m being careful and I won’t do anything stupid.”

Cooper glanced up from the stacks
of Monopoly money he was organizing. “What’re you working on, Kate?”

I quickly explained the situation
with Viveca’s brother, carefully omitting any mention of poisoned cupcakes,
murder victims and bundles of stolen cash hidden inside a frozen loaf of
sourdough bread. While I debriefed the attentive crowd, my sister opened the
bottle of wine and poured a splash into a juice glass.

“Did he run away from home?” Caleb
asked.

I glanced at my nephew. “I don’t
know, buddy. But that’s never a good idea for anyone. It’s better to stay right
where you are and work out your differences.”

He instantly scoffed at the
morality lesson. “Tell that to these two,” he said, nodding at his parents.
“They won’t let me go to Susan Barstow’s next Friday night.”

I shot a quick smile at my sister.
“What’s up with that?”

Olivia’s mouth puckered. “Well,
it’s, um...” She glared at my nephew. “Caleb? Why don’t you get up and fix a
glass of iced tea for Kate?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Just here for
a sec, remember?”

My sister put the cork back in the
wine bottle and deposited it in the refrigerator without comment.

“So?” I asked when she finished.
“Why won’t you let Caleb go to Susan Barlow’s on—”

 “
Barstow
,” my nephew
blurted. “Susan
Barstow
! And she’s only the coolest girl in school!”

Olivia shook her head. “Not now,
Caleb. We’ve been through this about a million times. Susan Barstow is
fourteen. And I’m sure her party will be tons of fun for all the other kids her
age, but your father and I don’t—”

“Just forget it then!” Caleb
howled, stomping out of the kitchen. “Forget I ever asked. Forget I live here.
And forget that I was ever—”

The rest of his complaint
disappeared behind his bedroom door as he slammed it on the other side of the
house.

“Sorry about that,” my sister said
remorsefully. “Somebody’s getting too big for their britches.”

Cooper laughed. “No, somebody’s
interested in going to Susan Barstow’s party. That’s all; it’s normal, Liv.
It’s what boys do when they get to be Caleb’s age.” He glanced across the table
at my other nephew. “Right, big man?”

“Whatever,” Connor mumbled. “Are we
gonna play or what?”

“Yeah, we’re playing,” my
brother-in-law answered. “As soon as Kate and your mother finish their
conversation, we’ll get going and you can beat everyone as usual.”

Connor flashed a toothy grin. “I
always win,” he boasted. “Especially when it’s just me and mom and dad!”

“How great is that?” I walked over
and gave him a quick peck on the top of his head. “I hope your winning streak
continues.”

He puffed out his scrawny chest.
“It’s all in the strategy,” he explained. “Get to three houses as soon as
possible, bankrupt your opponents and buy railroads instead of utilities. Did
you know there’s only a one in thirty-eight chance of profiting from utilities
when you buy them?”

“I wasn’t aware of that, Connor.
But thanks for the inside scoop.” I laughed, gave him another kiss on his
noggin and turned to my sister. “You guys have a great night, okay?” I made a
fist, punched my brother-in-law lightly on the shoulder and went over to
Olivia. “I’m glad you were home, sis. And I’m sorry that I didn’t come by
sooner.”

“Don’t worry about it, Katie.” She
clamped one arm around my waist and we headed for the front door. “After such a
long time in Chicago, you’re used to being completely independent from your
family.”

I nodded. “True, but I don’t want
you to think that I’m avoiding you.”

“I didn’t. I just miss seeing you
is all.”

I kissed her cheek and promised to
call soon. “We should schedule something fun,” I suggested. “How about mani-pedis
and lunch and some mindless retail therapy?”

“Is now too soon?” she asked as I
opened the door and stepped outside.

“I’ll call you,” I promised. “And
you better get back in there so Connor can bankrupt you before bedtime!”