When Magic Is Murder (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 4) Page 13

CHAPTER 31

  I was rolling out what felt like the one millionth pie crust of the day when Harper came into the kitchen around ten o’clock.

  “Dina Kincaid,” she said before doing a quick reverse spin and heading for the dining room. “Table by the front door.”

  Before I could say a word, she was gone. It had been an especially busy morning for breakfast orders and carryout bakery items, so I knew she was operating on high adrenalin and stolen sips of coffee.

  “I’ll be right back,” I told Julia. “This shouldn’t take long.”

  When I reached Dina’s table a few seconds later, she was on her phone, scribbling madly into her notepad and talking in a hushed tone. I waited until she’d finished the call before sitting across from her.

  “Morning, Katie,” she said in a rush. “I’ve got about five minutes.”

  “Why didn’t you just call?”

  She smiled as Harper approached the table with a white paperboard box.

  “Here you go, Dina,” she said. “Three Cheesy Cherry Danish, six Chocolate Turtle Cupcakes and six Peppermint Mocha Bars.”

  “You’re a lifesaver, Harper.” Dina quickly signed the credit card slip. “Thanks for getting those ready so fast.”

  Harper smiled. “Oh, you’re welcome. I know how grumpy some people can be if they don’t get their way.”

  After she left the table, I asked Dina who Harper was talking about.

  “Deputy Chief Walsh,” she answered. “When I told Trent I was about three blocks away, he begged me to make a quick stop and get him a pastry.”

  “Or three,” I said.

  Dina laughed. “They’re actually for a meeting he’s got with a couple of people coming up from the U.S. Marshals office in Denver. And I didn’t mind the detour. It gives me a chance to ask you what Jasper called about last night.”

  While she put away her credit card and notepad, I gave a quick recap of my conversation with Connie’s cousin. I began with the disclaimer that he sounded intoxicated before recounting his comments about Eloise’s relationship with Alec Halstead.

  “Okay, let me see if I’m following,” Dina said when I finished. “Jasper called you in the middle of the night because he wanted you to know that Eloise had been…dating the vic?”

  I nodded. “Yes, but he was pretty smashed, so who knows how much of it is true.”

  “Never a dull moment,” Dina said sharply. “It was bad enough that Jasper lied about knowing the guy. And now there’s a chance that Eloise withheld the fact that she not only knew the dead man, but they’d been romantically involved?”

  “Not the most uncomplicated scenario,” I said. “But I’m sure you can unravel it.”

  She heaved a sigh, got up from the chair and grabbed the box of pastries. “I’m due in court this afternoon, so…” She dropped her purse strap over one shoulder. “Did I even text you with the latest, Katie?”

  I shook my head. “What is it?”

  “Amanda Crane was on patrol this morning,” Dina answered. “She found Alec Halstead’s SUV in the alley behind Porter’s Paints. There was another EpiPen on the passenger seat, so that may explain why he didn’t have one with him in the gazebo.”

  “Probably right,” I said. “Anything else?”

  “We’ve got the techs going through it at the scene,” Dina answered. “They’re checking to see if we can find anything that might help identify his killer.”

  “Or confirm where he was working that night? I asked Connie about that yesterday. Since his online calendar showed that he was scheduled to perform in Crescent Creek, I thought maybe—”

  “We know about that already,” Dina announced. “Sorry that I didn’t tell you.”

  “It’s fine. You’ve got more than enough on your plate.”

  “One of the birthday parties had hired Mr. Halstead to do a magic show at the Lodge that night. When Connie called to move their group to Café Fleur, I guess she overlooked the note in the event order about entertainment.”

  “She was pretty upset,” I said.

  “Oh, I’m not blaming Connie for not remembering,” Dina said. “Shannon Lindstrom made the arrangements with the host of the birthday party. Do you know her?”

  I nodded. “We’ve met,” I said. “She handles event sales for the Lodge.”

  “That’s right,” Dina agreed. “I guess Connie wasn’t up to speed on all of the birthday party details because she was so focused on the bachelorette thing. Anyway, she left a voicemail for me last night and said that you’d asked her about it. Apparently, she found Shannon’s notes for the birthday party and they included Alec Halstead’s name and—” Her phone rang and she glanced at the screen. “I’m sorry, Katie. It’s the DA’s admin, so I need to take it.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I know you’re juggling a couple of big cases.”

  I got up from my chair and Dina turned for the door.

  “Thanks, Katie!” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll talk to you later!”

  CHAPTER 32

  Two hours later, after finishing a few more items on the prep list, I asked Julia if she could handle the rest of our special orders for the day.

  “Is water wet?” she asked. “Is snow white?”

  I gave her a goofy frown. “Are some questions silly?”

  “Go on then,” she said with a bubbly laugh. “I’ll call you if I get in the weeds.”

  Once I’d fixed a fresh cup of tea and settled in at my desk, I returned a few phone calls and answered my sister’s email about whether or not Zack and I could come to Denver in a few weeks for dinner. There were also a couple of invoices to pay, but I decided to take a moment and organize my thoughts about the Alec Halstead case.

  “What do we know?” I asked myself, leaning back in the desk chair. “It would seem that the deceased apparently had quite the reputation as a ladies’ man.”

  I thought about Whitney Morgenson and Eloise Turner for a moment. Then I considered my conversation with Jenna Burton.

  “If she said it wasn’t what she paid for,” I murmured, letting the steam from the tea warm my hands, “does that mean—”

  “Katie?”

  I turned and saw Harper in the hallway. “There’s a guy out here asking for you,” she said. “His name is…” She checked the business card in her hand. “Christopher Edgerly.”

  “Tell him that I’ve been abducted by aliens,” I mumbled.

  “Quick like a bunny,” she said, snapping her fingers. “I’ve got two new tables that are about ready to order. Should I tell him you’re too busy right now?”

  I shook my head. “No, that’s fine. I’ll be right out.”

  “Perfect,” she replied. “He’s sitting on the bench near the front door.”

  After quickly checking email to see if there was anything new from Dina, I left my office and headed for the front entrance hall. Christopher Edgerly looked up from his phone when he heard my footsteps.

  “I hope you’ll forgive the interruption,” he said, giving me a big smile. “But I had something very important to tell you.”

  I nodded. “Why don’t we go into my office and talk?”

  “I won’t need more than a minute or two,” he said, patting the empty space to his right. “Let’s just sit here.”

  Despite the fact that we were in full view of anyone coming or going, I reluctantly agreed. If he was telling me the truth, Edgerly would be out the door before the seat was even warm.

  “Okay,” I said, joining him on the bench. “What’s so important that you needed to tell me in person?”

  He cleared his throat and raised one eyebrow. “I’m no longer interested in buying Sky High Pies,” he announced.

  The declaration left me overjoyed—and speechless. I stared at him skeptically as he explained that my comments during our conversation at the Lodge had caused him to question his own motivation regarding the acquisition of property in Crescent Creek. He told me that he needed to overhaul his plans, revamp his attitude an
d take a second run at the project.

  “You really opened my eyes, Kate,” he said. “I owe you a huge debt of gratitude.”

  I brushed aside the compliment with a shrug. “So, you’re not buying property in Crescent Creek at all?”

  Edgerly laughed. “Oh, that’s not what I meant. I’m still negotiating with a few of your neighbors. If they accept my terms, you and I will be seeing a lot more of one another.”

  “How does that overhaul and revamp your plans?”

  “I just meant in terms of Sky High,” he explained. “I never realized what family pride actually means until I heard you talk about Nana Reed and your parents and all the rest.”

  I smiled. “But you already knew our story. Why did talking to me change your mind?”

  “Because you brought it all to life, Kate. It was no longer a spreadsheet and a legal offer and a bunch of blueprints spread out on a conference room table. It was flesh and blood and hopes and dreams. It was a real family with an authentic tale of success.”

  I looked around. “Is this the part where the producer and cameraman pop out and announce that I’m being punked on a reality show?”

  Edgerly laughed; a warm, sweet tone that was surprisingly genuine. “No,” he said. “This is the part where I shake your hand and wish you well.” He got up from the bench. “I’m serious, Kate; you made me reconsider why I wanted to buy Sky High in the first place.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Why?”

  The skimpy grin on his face burst into an wide smile. “I’m not even sure how to answer that yet,” he confessed. “I think it was just because I wanted to buy as much of Crescent Creek as I could.”

  “The whole town?”

  He shook his head. “Mostly your part,” he said. “There’s something incredibly beautiful about the landscape, the trees and that little stream that winds through your property.” His face brightened even more as he pictured the area in his mind. “In the end,” he continued, “it was just my massive ego, trying to have my way and push people around.”

  I fought the urge to laugh; Edgerly’s sincerity seemed almost scripted, but I wanted to get him out the door so I could return to thinking about the Alec Halstead case. I stood up and offered my hand.

  “It’s nice talking to you again,” I said as we shook. “I’ll look forward to seeing you around Crescent Creek once you gobble up whatever properties you’ve still got your eye on.”

  He squeezed my hand a little too tightly before loosening his grip. Then he wished me a good day and disappeared through the door.

  “There goes trouble,” Harper said from the dining room entrance.

  I smiled. “There it goes, but I suspect it will return again.”

  CHAPTER 33

  The conversation with Christopher Edgerly left me feeling a mix of triumph and melancholy. I hadn’t talked to my next door neighbor in a few days, but I hoped she wasn’t one of the people on the land-hungry titan’s list. I was getting ready to go over and see if Viveca was home when Harper’s cheery face appeared in the doorway again.

  “Call for you on line two,” she said. “It’s Connie Larson.”

  I thanked her, hurried back to my office and picked up the desk phone.

  “How’s it going over there, Connie?”

  She laughed. “About as well as you might expect. I feel like a broken record, telling people that it’s safe to stay here and the incident in the gazebo was a fluke.”

  “Yeah, that’s a tough one. Once the news gets out, it’s hard to keep people from twisting it all around.”

  Connie’s sigh was like a faint buzz. “I suppose,” she said. “I’m calling to tell you that I found Shannon’s notes from the other night; not the actual event orders, but something I hope will be helpful. I would’ve called sooner, but it’s been totally nuts!”

  “Oh, there’s no need to apologize.”

  “Thanks, Katie.”

  “You bet,” I said. “Now, what do you see in the notes?”

  She exhaled loudly. “Well, I don’t know if this will be much at all,” she said. “But it looks like there was a last-minute switch from chocolate mousse to individual pear and peach cobblers.”

  “For which of the three events?”

  “The bachelorette party,” Connie answered. “Although it didn’t even really matter because the desserts got left behind in the confusion. The guests for that party enjoyed some of Luigi’s delicious Semifreddo instead.”

  “Did the client request the change?”

  Connie hummed to herself for a few seconds. “I can’t be sure,” she said. “There’s just a line through the entry for chocolate mousse and Shannon’s hand-written note about the cobblers.”

  “Okay, if the client didn’t ask for something different, who would’ve substituted one dessert for another?”

  “I don’t mean to sound thickheaded,” she said, “but why does it matter? The bachelorette party was moved to Luigi’s.”

  “I’m just trying to get as much information as possible,” I explained. “You never know what might be important in these types of situations.”

  “It may have been Eloise,” Connie answered. “Since she was handling desserts for the events that night.”

  “Has she done that before?”

  “No,” Connie said firmly. “And she won’t be doing it again if she wants to keep working here.”

  “Did you ask her about it?”

  “Unfortunately, no. Eloise is still home sick. I plan to address the matter first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay, that’s helpful.”

  “Why’d you want to know?”

  “Alec Halstead was terribly allergic to birch pollen,” I answered. “There’s a chance that his death was the result of an allergic reaction.”

  “Birch pollen?” Connie said in disbelief. “At this time of year?”

  “Let me explain,” I said. “Based on what Dina’s associate learned from Alec Halstead’s doctor, it seems that he suffered from oral allergy syndrome. Basically, his immune system reacted to birch tree pollen the same way as compounds found in quite a few fruits and vegetables, including apples, pears and peaches.”

  She was quiet, contemplating what I’d just shared. Then she asked me who I thought was responsible for the victim’s death.

  “At this point, there’s no way to be certain,” I said. “But I will tell you this—I suspect the person was aware that Alec had severe allergies. And they also may have known that if he ate one of those fruits, the reaction would be devastating and potentially lethal if he didn’t have access to an EpiPen or immediate medical treatment.”

  CHAPTER 34

  After Connie Larson promised to keep looking for the event orders from the Crescent Creek Lodge, I picked up the phone and called Dina.

  “Sorry about being a whirling dervish this morning,” she apologized. “I need about twenty-four more hours in the day to juggle all of these cases.”

  “When it rains, it pours, right?”

  She laughed. “Well, it’s felt more like a nonstop deluge lately. What’s the latest on your end, Katie?”

  I quickly told her that Connie had confirmed that someone had changed the desserts for one of the special events to include peach and pear cobblers.

  “On one hand, that sounds pretty trivial,” I explained. “But, on the other, it could also be the cause of Alec Halstead’s death.”

  “Fruit as a murder weapon,” Dina said. “You don’t hear that too often.”

  “Like never,” I agreed.

  “But how could someone change plans for a private party?” she asked. “Especially after the customer already approved the menu?”

  “Maybe there’s another explanation,” I suggested. “Maybe the person responsible for making the change also somehow convinced the client that it would be better. Or maybe they were double dipping.”

  Dina exhaled loudly. “Double dipping?”

  “Yes,” I said. “If the point of making somethi
ng with pears and peaches was to cause Alec Halstead to suffer an allergy attack that worsened into anaphylaxis, then perhaps the responsible party didn’t actually change the items prepared for the event.”

  “Meaning what?” Dina said after a yawn. “They followed the original plan, but also had someone make the peach and pear desserts?”

  “Exactly. I did a little more research earlier about oral allergy syndrome and anaphylaxis. If you ingest a substance that causes an allergic reaction, there’s a narrow window of time to offset the inevitable symptoms.”

  “Okay, but…” Dina paused, humming quietly on the other end. “Do we know how many people were aware that Alec Halstead’s allergies were that severe?”

  “According to his sister and ex-wife, not too many. He kept it pretty quiet.”

  “Family members were probably aware,” Dina speculated. “And I would imagine a few close friends.”

  “Quite possibly. And there’s also a chance that one or more of his conquests knew.”

  She groaned. “I’m sorry to say this, but Alec Halstead sounds like he was kind of a creep.”

  “Because he was a ladies’ man?”

  “That’s a nice way of putting it,” Dina said. “Ladies’ man, player, womanizer…no matter how you describe it, the guy wasn’t exactly Mr. Prudent. Have you seen his Facebook page?”

  I laughed. “It hasn’t been high on my list quite yet. What’s on it?”

  “Mostly pictures of Alec Halstead with a regular cornucopia of scantily clad women,” Dina answered. “Along with a few kitten videos.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “And a pretty rage-fueled rant about his ex-wife,” Dina added. “From what he wrote, I think it’s a safe bet their divorce was anything but amicable.”

  “A very safe bet,” I agreed. “When I talked to Jenna Burton, she made it pretty clear that she didn’t want to discuss Alec or anything related to him.”

  “Remember her stooge?” asked Dina. “The good-for-nothing named Dallas that she called after you talked to her?”