The Cherry Chip Murders Read online

“Well, let’s hope that isn’t necessary,” she said. “I’m sure that you’re busy enough as it is with Sky High and Zack and whatnot.”

  “I’m good,” I said. “But I suspect that Carrie might know what Darren Rigby’s up to, so I’ll keep after the bartender until I can talk to him.”

  “Any clue what she knows?”

  “Not really,” I said. “But he and Carrie dated for a hot minute, so I’d guess he’ll have something we can use.”

  “Like the recipe for the Commonwealth?”

  I laughed. “Is that a type of cake?”

  “Cocktail,” she said. “One of the guys at the station was talking about it this morning. His girlfriend is a bartender at Café Fleur, so I guess it came up in conversation with her.”

  “Pillow talk?”

  “Possibly,” she said. “But the thing has seventy ingredients or something like that. It was created by a Scottish bartender in honor of a soccer tournament.”

  “As is often the case,” I teased. “Do you remember any of the ingredients?”

  “Phil didn’t get into the details,” she said. “And thank goodness. The guy talks slower than anyone you’ll ever meet. It took him a good ten minutes to tell me that he was dating someone new.”

  “What’s the woman’s name?” I asked. “The one at Café Fleur?”

  “Daisy,” she said. “Have you met her?”

  “No, but Zack and I talked about going there for brunch after church on Sunday.”

  “Doesn’t that sound nice,” she said.

  “Can you join us?” I asked.

  “I’d love to,” Dina replied. “It’s been quite a while since I went to either place, so it’ll be good to get back in touch with both.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Zack was asleep on the sofa when I finally made it home at ten-thirty that night. There was a crumb-covered plate on the coffee table beside a glass with an inch of milk in the bottom. Every light in the apartment blazed brightly while Sleepless in Seattle unspooled on the television.

  “What time is it?” he mumbled after I shook his shoulder.

  “Bedtime,” I said quietly. “Should I carry you?”

  He replied with a drowsy laugh before rolling up from the cushions. I stood beside him with one hand on his shoulder. After a few seconds, he got to his feet, staggered forward and swept me into his arms.

  “I tried to wait up,” he said.

  “And I appreciate the effort,” I replied. “But I told you earlier that you didn’t need to.”

  His next few words were distorted by a gaping yawn.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Your mother called. She tried your phone, but it went straight to voicemail. So she called me.”

  “What did she want?” I asked.

  “You,” he said.

  I snickered. “Did she tell you why?”

  He shrugged as another yawn came and went.

  “Should we go to bed now?” I asked.

  “Good idea,” Zack said. “I think it had something to do with your brother.”

  We started shuffling across the room toward the hallway.

  “Brody?”

  Zack stopped. “Do you have another one that I don’t know about?”

  “Aren’t you hilarious?” I said. “Let’s get you in bed before the standup routine really kicks in.”

  He started moving again. I followed with one hand on his back and the other on his elbow.

  “He’s getting married,” Zack said. “No, wait. Brody got married.” He paused. “To somebody named…Helena?” Another quick pause. “Or maybe it was Ellen.”

  As we stepped into the bedroom, my mind shuddered in every direction at once. My baby brother, the Romeo who left a trail of broken hearts from Crescent Creek to San Diego and back again, had tied the knot without telling anyone in the family. Of course, the fact that he’d never been in a relationship longer than six months also made me suspicious.

  “Did she give you any details?” I asked Zack as he sat on the edge of the bed.

  He looked up and studied my face.

  “Any what?”

  “Details,” I said again. “About Brody’s wedding. Or his wife.”

  He blinked at me a few times.

  “Antelope.”

  I plopped down beside him.

  “Do you mean they eloped?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Zack said. “They eloped. I think maybe she said something about Mexico.” He heaved a rocky sigh. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I was asleep when she called, and it all sort of—”

  I pressed one hand to his mouth.

  “Hey, it’s fine,” I told him. “I’ll call her in the morning. What’s important now is that you and I both get some sleep, okay?”

  His head fell onto my shoulder.

  “Okay,” Zack mumbled. “Sleep is good.”

  CHAPTER 28

  I was in the Sky High kitchen the next morning talking to Julia when Harper’s face appeared in the pass window.

  “There’s a really cute guy here to see you,” she said.

  “Zack?”

  She shook her head. “Not that cute. But close.”

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “Someone named Scott,” she said. “He’s a handsome blond with a trimmed beard and blue eyes. I think he mentioned it was related to something you guys were talking about last night at the Fenwick Hotel.”

  “And he’s here?” I asked. “Not on the phone.”

  Harper smirked. “I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I know the difference between the two. I told him to wait in the office.”

  “You’re the best, Harps,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting him, so it took me by surprise.”

  “No problem,” she replied. “You heading in there now or should I tell him to cool his heels for a while?”

  “I’ll go now,” I said. “And for the record?”

  She smiled.

  “You’re sharper than the other knives,” I said.

  As Harper and Julia started discussing one of the new orders, I made my way to the office. When I stepped through the door, Scott was on his phone, murmuring sweet nothings to someone named Eliza.

  “Oh, hey,” he said when I stepped behind the desk. “Gotta go, honey. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “How are you?” I said.

  “Morning, Katie!” he said, leaning across the desk to shake my hand. “I was going to call, but I had the day off. And ever since I saw you last night, I’ve been thinking about this place. I figured, like, it’s a nice day, I don’t have to work and I haven’t had any of your grandmother’s pecan pie for a really long time.”

  “Well, this is a surprise,” I said.

  “I thought it would be,” he replied with a toothy grin. “But you seem like a solid person. And I want to help Carrie out of whatever jam she’s in at the moment.”

  “Tell me more about that,” I said.

  “The thing is,” Scott replied, “Carrie’s been really on edge the past few weeks. Something’s definitely going on with her, her ex-boyfriend and a guy named Darnell. He’s been dating Carrie’s roommate’s sister for the last year or so.”

  “Could it be Darren?” I asked.

  He grinned again. “That’s the guy.”

  “What about Carrie’s ex-boyfriend?” I said. “Can you tell me his name?”

  “Leo Leachman,” Scott answered. “He’s a tool, but he’s rich. He bankrolled Carrie’s lingerie store so she could quit waiting tables.”

  “That’s new info,” I said. “So what kind of something is going on with those three?” I asked.

  He frowned. “Nothing good. I heard from one of my buddies that Darren borrowed a big chunk of change from Leachman to try and keep Wicked Cherry going. He’s been way undercapitalized since the day it started.”

  “Wicked Cherry?”

  “It’s Darren’s craft brewery in the city,” Scott explained. “They make a few different things, but the place is
known for Wicked Cherry Rum.

  “Wicked Cherry?”

  He smiled. “It’s amazing. My girlfriend cooks with it. In fact, you and she have something in common.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yep,” Scott said. “She bakes with Wicked Cherry. For my birthday last month, she made some killer cupcakes.”

  “I’d love to hear about those sometime,” I said. “For now, let’s focus on Carrie’s roommate and her sister’s boyfriend.”

  “You bet,” Scott said. “Do you want to ask me questions or should I…”

  I nodded. “You should just tell me as much as you know.”

  “Okay, you bet,” he said. “Like I already mentioned, I was talking to a buddy, guy named Rooster, and he told me that one of his pals hired him for a gig up in Crescent Creek.”

  “What kind of gig?” I said.

  Scott shrugged. “Nothing you need a suit and tie for,” he said. “Rooster’s a longtime gym rat. He works as a personal trainer at a place that caters to young, wealthy women.”

  I smiled. “I know the type. When I lived in Chicago, I even went out with a couple of men like that.”

  “He’s not a bad guy,” Scott said. “Might not always make the healthiest choices when it comes to how he earns a living, but that’s his business.”

  “Has he been in trouble with the police?” I asked.

  “Not this week,” Scott answered with a smile.

  “Good for him,” I said. “Did he give you any details about the job in Crescent Creek?”

  “A couple,” he answered.

  I waited for more, but his gaze had dropped to the floor.

  “Are you trying to remember?” I said. “Or is this how you ignore uncomfortable questions?”

  Scott looked up. “They made him wear a mask.”

  “Spider-Man?” I asked.

  His eyes flashed with disbelief. “How did you know that?”

  “Lucky guess,” I said. “What else did Rooster have to tell you?”

  “Just one thing,” Scott replied. “He got paid by a woman that I’ve seen in here with your friend before.”

  “My friend?”

  His head bobbed. “The guy that was with Carrie,” he said.

  “Darren Rigby?” I felt a cold chill slither around my shoulders. “Rooster was paid to kidnap Tony Hett by a woman that knows Darren?”

  Scott nodded as he considered the information. Then he said, “I don’t know if this will help or not, but Rooster didn’t actually kidnap anybody. His job was to wait at the farmhouse where they took the guys after they grabbed them.”

  “So he was an accomplice?”

  “I guess it doesn’t matter to the cops,” he said. “And that’s never good.

  “You think?” I smiled. “That’s what started this whole thing.”

  “When did that happen?” he asked.

  As I answered his question, the color drained from Scott’s face.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “C’mon,” I said. “Your reaction says something, not nothing.”

  “Well, yeah,” he said. “Rooster told me that Violet’s sister and her boyfriend got caught up in something shady that night. But he didn’t know what and he didn’t know where.”

  “Did he know who?” I asked.

  Scott nodded. “He mentioned a couple of names.”

  “Was Tony Hett one of them?”

  “That’s right,” he answered.

  “And the other?” I said.

  I waited. He chewed on a thumbnail as he scanned the restaurant before sliding his gaze back in my direction. I waited some more. When we were approaching five minutes, I asked Scott if he could tell me the other name.

  “I suppose,” he said. “But I’m starting to get the creeps about this whole thing, especially since Tony’s dead and Darren whatshisname is missing.”

  “I’d say getting the creeps is a natural reaction to either of those developments,” I said. “Not to mention the fact that Leo Leachman and his goon squad seem to be involved somehow.”

  “So the other name?” I said. “Who else was at Tony Hett’s the night that Violet’s sister and her boyfriend got mixed up in trouble?”

  “Some chick named Junebug,” Scott said. “At least, that’s the name that Rooster heard from his pal.”

  CHAPTER 29

  The woman that answered the door at Darren and Sheila Rigby’s house an hour later was short and trim, with pink tipped blonde hair and a smile fueled by either too much sugar or not enough sleep. She was wearing a short-sleeved purple T-shirt with black tights and pristine white running shoes.

  “Afternoon,” she said. “Can I help you?”

  I’d never seen her before, but there was something extremely regimented and formal about her demeanor. Her mouth was set in a flat line, her posture was rigid and her jaw was like granite.

  “Is Sheila here?” I asked. “My name is Kate. I’m from next door, and I just wanted to see if she needs anything.”

  I felt my heart skip a beat when I noticed the slogan on the front of her shirt: Personal power through Ultra Violet.

  “That’s so kind,” the woman said with a mournful twinge in her voice. “But she’s not home.”

  “Do you know when she might be back?”

  She shook her head. Then she explained that she was Darren’s cousin. She’d been on her way from Dallas to a business meeting in Cleveland when she got the news about her relative’s disappearance.

  “I didn’t catch your name,” I said.

  “Deb.” Her blue eyes tightened. “I’m Deb Rigby.”

  “Well, nice to meet you, Deb. I’m sorry about what’s going on with Darren.”

  She offered a nod as her jaw tightened even more.

  “I’d give an arm and a leg to have him back again,” she said.

  I glanced at her left bicep. It was as muscular and tan as the right one.

  “I think there are plenty of folks in town who would do the same,” I said. “When did you last see Darren?”

  Her mouth squirmed slightly. “A few days ago,” she said. “I’m in the process of moving to Ohio, so I came up to see a few friends and family members.”

  I smiled. “So you used to live in Crescent Creek?”

  “Near here,” she said. “But it’s been years.”

  “Well, the town certainly hasn’t changed much,” I said. “I went to college in Chicago. Then I stayed for a while to work. When I came back, I had definitely changed…” I touched the wrinkles beside one eye and then patted my stomach. “…but Crescent Creek was almost exactly the same.”

  She offered a watery smile. “I’m sorry to be so short,” she said, “but I need to take care of a few things for Sheila. I’ll let her know that you stopped by.”

  “Thank you,” I said as she started to close the door. “Before you go, can I ask one last thing?”

  She stared at me through the narrow opening.

  “Do you know when Sheila will be back?” I asked.

  “I’m not really sure,” she said. “She missed her connecting flight from Atlanta to O’Hare, so I have no idea when she’ll arrive.”

  “Atlanta?” I said. “I thought she was in Las Vegas.”

  The woman’s eyes flickered with panic for a moment, but then brightened again as she took a deep breath.

  “I’m sorry about that,” she said. “It was Las Vegas. I have another friend who went to Atlanta for business, so I got them confused for a second.”

  “Story of my life,” I said, smiling. “My mother says Confusion is my middle name.”

  Deb smiled. “And that’s the story of my life,” she said. “Very, very, very confused.”

  There was nothing about the woman that suggested she’d ever been bewildered a day in her life, but I knew better than to question her wisecrack.

  “What’s Ultra Violet?” I pointed at the front of her shirt. “Is it a supplement for athletes?”
/>   She glanced down at the slogan. “Oh! No, no. Ultra Violet is a self-defense academy in the city.” She blushed and it seemed to soften her hard exterior. “What can I say? It’s their gimmick. You know, for publicity.”

  “It’s not a gimmick if it works,” I said. “Do people find personal power there?”

  “The owner would like to think so.” She smiled again; a luminous burst of bright white teeth, glossy pink lips and confidence. “You should ask Sheila sometime. That’s how I met her; she came to a class with my sister. Liz actually works for Darren and Sheila at their company here in town.”

  “Oh?” I said. “I knew that she worked as Darren’s assistant, but I didn’t realize she was his cousin.”

  “I think they try to keep that quiet,” Deb said. “You know, to separate professional things from family matters.”

  “Sure,” I said. “That sounds reasonable.”

  “Okay, I should get going,” she said. “I’ll be sure and let Sheila know that you came by.”

  When the door closed with a solid click, I stood on the front porch and tried to imagine why the woman had seemingly lied to me about where Sheila had been while she was away.

  As if we need one more curve ball in this case, I thought, or one more person twisting the truth until it shatters into a million little pieces.

  CHAPTER 30

  The smile on Dina’s face when she walked into the Sky High office later that day told me two things. She had a spinach salad for lunch. And she was going to tell me something confidential.

  “There’s something in your teeth,” I said, pulling a small compact from the top desk drawer. “See for yourself.”

  She took the compact, confirmed my report with a long look in the mirror and then removed the offending speck with a tissue from the box on the desk.

  “That’s better,” I said.

  “Thanks for letting me know,” she said. “I grabbed a quick bite to eat at Drake’s on the way over.”

  “You could’ve had lunch here,” I said. “We have a wide array of things that can get stuck in your pearly whites.”

  She glowered at me. “That’s not why I’m here,” she said. “How do you feel about taking another drive to Denver?”