Murder for Millions (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 7) Read online

  “A leopard doesn’t change its spots, Katie.”

  “Velma isn’t a leopard,” I said.

  “True enough. She’s a wicked witch, a corrupt and wanton floozy who—”

  The doorbell chimed, sending my heart into my throat.

  “Is that someone at your door?” asked Blanche.

  “I guess so.” I jumped out of the chair and hurried across the room. “Do you mind holding for a sec?”

  “I’ll wait,” she said. “Although if you’re expecting a gentleman caller, then maybe I should let you go.”

  “My only gentleman caller is in California this week,” I said. “And I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

  I lowered the phone, pressed my eye to the peephole and squinted. It was Boris Hertel, peering at the door from beneath the hood of a rain slicker.

  “Can I get back to you later?” I asked Blanche.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, it’s Boris Hertel. I’m not sure what he wants, but he looks pretty distressed.”

  The doorbell clanged once more.

  “And he sounds pretty impatient,” Blanche said. “I’ll talk to you later, Katie. Tell Boris that I said hello.”

  “Okay, I will. And please give my regards to Marla. I’m probably going to be talking to her soon about this whole mess, but don’t mention that part.”

  As I dropped the call and slid the phone into my pocket, Boris rang the bell again.

  “Please open the door, Miss Reed,” he rasped. “Someone wants to kill my son, and we think you can help stop them.”

  CHAPTER 25

  “Mr. Hertel?” I asked after opening the door. “What’s going on?”

  He glanced anxiously at the parking lot below. “Can I come in? I don’t think anyone followed me, but you can’t be too sure.”

  I stepped aside and waited until he was over the threshold. Then I closed and locked the door.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry to barge in unannounced,” Boris said. “But I’ve been waiting for a chance to slip away and tell you at least what I know so far.”

  I walked into the living room and he followed. I asked if he wanted something to drink, but he declined the offer.

  “I can’t stay long,” he said. “My son thinks I’m at Drake’s Deli buying a sandwich.”

  I sat on the sofa as Boris settled into a chair. I waited for him to reveal more about the mysterious visit, but he seemed lost in thought. When I said his name a few seconds later, he jerked in surprise.

  “Oh, heavens! I’m sorry, Katie. I’m just…” He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “This whole thing is really doing a number on me. I slipped up and…well, I guess you know what I’m going to say next. I fell off the wagon again. But it’s not as bad as it was after Edith died. I’m just trying to calm my nerves enough to get through this thing.”

  “What thing?” I asked. “What has you so rattled?”

  He heaved a sigh and sat forward, elbows on his knees and forehead in his hands. I watched his shoulders rise and fall as he muttered to himself.

  “Here’s the deal,” he said, sitting up again. “I think someone’s going to kill my son. And Kevin agrees. That’s why we’ve been spending time with Carter Devane and that private investigator woman.”

  “Velma Lancaster?”

  He smirked. “Yeah, she’s a piece of work. Looks like a million bucks on the outside, but she’s rotten to the core.”

  “Let’s back up,” I suggested. “Before we dice and slice Velma’s personality, tell me why you think someone wants to kill your son.”

  Boris lifted his chin. “Because he knows the truth.”

  “About what?”

  “Carter Devane’s company,” he said. “Someone is saying the whole place is built on a lie, Katie. They seem to think they can blackmail Devane by falsely claiming that he came up with the idea for those breath chews for dogs. And the fact of the matter is, it wasn’t just him. And he’s never pretended that he invented the things all by himself. If you read the company literature, the references are kept vague due to a private agreement about development of the prototype and formula for Minty Dog Chews.”

  “Okay, I’ll buy that. But what’s the truth? Who cooked up the idea?”

  “Jacob Lowry got the ball rolling,” Boris said. “He had the idea first, the basic concept, the formula and the unique shape for the chews. Jacob thought it all up. When they were in college, the three of them—Jacob, Carter Devane and my son—shared an apartment with a fourth guy. And Toby Reiter had a dog who had really stinky breath and—”

  “Pardon me for interrupting,” I said quickly.

  Boris blinked and smiled. “What’s that?”

  “Did you or Kevin tell the police any of this?” It seemed like I’d been posing the same question far too often lately. “That seems like the logical thing to do in a case like this.”

  He shook his head. “Not yet, but we will. I wanted to get all of the ducks in a row first.”

  “But if your son’s life has been threatened, you really should—”

  “That’s just it,” Boris said. “Nobody’s directly threatened Kevin. It’s all been implied in the anonymous poem. At least, until Carter’s house was burglarized, the body shop was burned and Jacob Lowry was killed. Now, it’s gone to the next level.”

  “What about the fourth guy you mentioned? Any chance he’s responsible?”

  He squinted. “Which fourth guy?”

  “The one with the dog,” I said. “From your son’s days at college?”

  The squint was replaced with a watery smile. “Oh, Toby? Yeah, he was a good kid, always polite and respectful of parents and teachers.”

  “Was a good kid?”

  Boris sighed gently. “Yeah, Toby drowned when his boat capsized off the Oregon coast a few years after the boys finished school.”

  “Oh, I’m…” I paused while his phone rang and he fumbled with it briefly. “I’m sorry to hear about that,” I continued. “When you mentioned that his dog was the inspiration for Carter Devane’s company, I thought maybe…”

  The rest of the idea wasn’t worth going into. If Toby Reiter had passed away, he couldn’t be playing a role in the anonymous threats against the four people on the rhyming hit list.

  I was thinking about Toby, his dog and the other three men during their college days when Boris cleared his throat loudly to get my attention.

  “I need to confess something,” he said.

  “Okay.” I wasn’t sure where he was going, but I could tell from the look on his face that he was determined. “What’s that?”

  “It’s something that…” He hesitated, covering his mouth while he coughed. “I want to apologize in advance for what I’m about to tell you, Katie. The idea made sense when we thought of it, but now…”

  After a few minutes of taut silence, I said, “But now you’re not so sure?”

  “Exactly,” Boris said with a weary tone.

  “Is this about the other day?” I asked. “When you came into Sky High right after we opened?”

  He nodded. “My son brought me over that morning. I’d had a bit to drink and he didn’t want me driving. We’d been up all night with Carter, Velma and Jacob, trying to figure out how to identify the person behind the threats.”

  “Why didn’t you go to the police?”

  He grunted softly. “We wanted to do it on our own. Well, to be honest, Carter wanted us to do it without going to the authorities. He figured it was someone that knew the truth about things, maybe someone from the past. And we thought that if you were aware of the situation then maybe you’d start looking into the matter and help identify the guilty party.”

  “That doesn’t explain why Mr. Devane called the Aspen police after the burglary.”

  He nodded. “At that moment, nobody knew it was anything bigger than a simple break-in. Carter didn’t find the blackmail letter until after he’d told the police that his home had been
burglarized.”

  “But why did you bring a copy of it to me in such strange way?” I asked. “Why didn’t you simply tell me what was going on?”

  He thought about the questions briefly, pressing his hands against the chair as if it would somehow steady his deliberation.

  “It’s like this,” he said. “Getting you involved was my doing, Kate. I remembered hearing your parents talk about how well you did as a detective in Chicago. I thought maybe you could help. I proposed the idea to my son. He resisted at first, but eventually agreed that we would slip a copy of the letter to you with that silly drunk old fool act. I know it seems ridiculous now, but we were nervous to approach you directly since we didn’t know who we could trust.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Actually, we still don’t know who to trust because the responsible party has yet to be identified.”

  “Were the others aware that you were giving me a copy of the rhyming list?”

  He shook his head. “Carter and Velma didn’t know that I came to see you that morning. My son told them later. They were pretty livid about it, but eventually Kevin convinced them that you might be able to do something that we hadn’t yet.”

  “Such as?”

  “Find out who was behind the anonymous threats,” Boris answered. “Because you know so many people in town. And because of your background and the work you did in Chicago. Your dad was always really proud of how you helped people. And I know that you’ve worked with the local police on a couple of things since you moved back, so…” He lifted his hands and held them out. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to Kevin. That boy’s all the family that I’ve got left.”

  We sat quietly for a few minutes. Boris stared into space, biting the nail of his left thumb and taking one deep breath after another. I contemplated everything that he’d just shared with me. Then I asked if he would consider bringing his son in the next day so we could all talk about the situation.

  “What more is there to say?” asked Boris.

  “It might be helpful if I hear some of this directly from your son. Then I can do some checking around town and share the relevant points with Trent Walsh and the rest of his team at the CCPD.”

  Boris nodded silently as he thought about things. Then he agreed to the idea and promised to come by Sky High the following day.

  “What time is good for you?” he asked.

  I smiled. “Let’s aim for eleven,” I suggested. “There’s generally a lull in the action between breakfast and lunch, so that should give us a half hour or so.”

  He stood and offered his hand. “Thank you, Katie,” he said as we shook. “We’ll be grateful for whatever assistance and advice you might be able to share with us.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Harper was frowning and muttering to herself when she swept through the swinging door from the dining room into the Sky High kitchen the next morning at eleven. I’d just started a new batch of pie dough in the mixer and Julia was carefully arranging crisp strips of bacon on a piece of toasted wheat bread for one of our most persnickety BLT aficionados.

  “This is like getting the blocks set up for Jenga,” she murmured. “One wrong move and the whole thing could come tumbling down.”

  Harper moaned. “Please make sure that’s extra, extra, extra crispy. Mrs. Chadwick’s in rare form today.”

  “It’s basically charred shoe leather at this point,” Julia said, keeping her eyes on the brittle brown strips. “Doesn’t that sound just positively yummy?”

  I laughed. “To each their own, Jules! Knowing what you like is the first step toward happiness!”

  “You are so right,” Harper said. “And speaking of knowing what they want, your fans are starting to stack up in the dining room, Katie.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Three men want to see you.” She dropped a hand on each hip. “One’s with the local PD and the other two are a father-and-son duo looking none too happy.”

  I switched off the mixer, wiped my hands on a towel and followed Harper into the dining room. Tyler Armstrong was perched on a stool at the end of the counter. Boris and Kevin Hertel stood just inside the front door, looking awkward and jumpy. I gave them a wave and headed for the far side of the room.

  “Detective Armstrong,” I said. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

  He shook his head. “Harper’s got my order, Katie. But thank you anyway.”

  “What’s going on?”

  He reached into his jacket, came out with a folded sheet of paper and held it toward me.

  “Thanks,” I said. “What’s this?”

  “It’s transcripts of the 911 calls from the night Pemberton’s body shop burned,” he explained. “I was headed this way and Deputy Chief Walsh asked me to drop them off for you.”

  I nodded and glanced at the record of the second call. As my eyes scanned the lines of text, one phrase in particular jumped off the page.

  “Sweet sassy molassy!” I gushed. “Is this really the anonymous call from that night?”

  Tyler Armstrong nodded. “Yeah, but what’s wrong? Is there an F-bomb in there somewhere?”

  “No, nothing like that. Just a fairly distinctive expression that I heard recently.”

  He smiled. “That’s a relief. I was pretty sure the Pemberton calls didn’t have any cursing, so I was afraid that Deputy Chief Walsh had given me the wrong transcripts.”

  I chuckled at the possibility that Trent would make such an unforced error. Then I thanked Tyler again for coming by.

  “No problem,” he said. “Running this errand for Trent means I can get a caffé mocha and slice of Black Forest cake to go.”

  I glanced over his shoulder and noticed that Kevin Hertel was drifting toward the front door. Before he had a chance to slip away, I shook Tyler’s hand and scrambled across the dining room.

  “Thanks for your patience,” I said to Boris and his son. “And thank you so much for coming to see me.”

  “Is this a convenient time?” the father asked.

  “Yes, it’s perfect. Julia and Harper should be able to handle things for a few minutes alone.”

  Kevin glowered at me. “I’ve got an appointment in an hour across town,” he said. “Can we do this?”

  I nodded my head toward the hallway. “The office is this way,” I said. “Would you like anything to drink before we begin?”

  They both quickly declined, so I made my way down the corridor to the office.

  “Please make yourself comfortable,” I said, pointing toward the empty guest chairs. “If you change your mind about something to drink, just let me know, okay?”

  Boris smiled. His son slumped in a chair, picking furiously at the ripped knee of his jeans. When they were both seated, I closed the door and slipped behind my desk.

  “Kevin?”

  He nodded.

  “After talking to your dad last night,” I began, “I thought it might be helpful to get your input on things.”

  He smirked. “Such as?”

  “Well, most importantly, I was curious about the origins of Minty Dog Chews. Your father said that you, Jay Lowry and Carter Devane were sharing a house in Berkeley when the idea was first discussed for a dog chew breath freshener.”

  “That’s all true,” Kevin said in a flat tone. “What else?”

  “Well, if that’s the case, why didn’t Carter included you and Jay when he started the company?”

  Kevin snorted a laugh. “Who said that he didn’t?”

  The retort was delivered so casually that I wasn’t sure I’d heard it correctly. When I asked him to repeat the statement, he fulfilled the request with another coarse chuckle.

  “That’s the thing about discretion,” he said. “Sometimes it actually works and people respect your privacy.”

  “I don’t understand that last bit,” I said.

  Boris sighed. “See? The boy talks in riddles!”

  “Ah, c’mon, dad!” Kevin groaned. “You’re just mad that I’ve
never told you about our deal with Carter. But Jacob and I signed a legal contract; in exchange for lifetime profit participation in Minty Dog Chews, we promised to never tell anyone about the agreement. Carter’s got this weird obsession to protect the mystique that he came up with the concept by himself. All of the media coverage over the years made it seem like Minty Dog was a stroke of genius that he cooked up on his own. I didn’t tell you back then, pops, because I’d signed the papers.”

  “Well, that’s understandable,” Boris said. “But you can certainly tell us about it now.”

  Kevin grumbled, pushed up from the chair and started pacing. One hand brushed through his hair as he walked, while the other arced through the air.

  “This whole thing was a fluke,” he said, shuffling away from where his father and I sat. “It was a bunch of guys and a dog, sharing a house during college. The dog had the worst breath you can imagine. We started joking around about a canine version of Altoids and—”

  “Of what?” Boris interrupted.

  “Altoids,” Kevin repeated. “The really strong breath mints in the red tin box?”

  His father shrugged. “I gargle with Listerine if I need to,” Boris said, chuckling softly. “Or, maybe I should say, when I need to.”

  Kevin swiveled near the door and began a return trip toward the desk. “Anyway, Jacob’s a genius with…” His feet stopped and his voice dwindled away. He held the position, staring down at the floor while his hand continued running through his short brown hair. “I guess I should say that he was a genius with stuff like science and chemistry. He was born to be a problem solver, too. Carter and I made fun of the dog, but Jacob saw it as a challenge. He started working in the lab at Berkeley, after class and on weekends, trying to come up with a breath mint for dogs. Carter and I joined in eventually and the three of us came up with a formula that was effective and easy to make. We knew we had a good thing when Bruiser kept begging for more.”

  “Is that the dog?” Boris asked.

  Kevin nodded. “We used to go and drink beers and talk about how we’d start this huge company selling a bunch of pet products based on things that people use.”