Chocolate Most Deadly (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 2) (3 page)

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Authors: Mary Maxwell

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Cozy, #Women Sleuths

BOOK: Chocolate Most Deadly (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 2)
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CHAPTER
4

 

 

When I walked into the kitchen
after Viveca left, Julia was scowling as she mashed sweet potatoes in a large
stainless steel bowl.

“Everything okay, Jules?” I asked.

She nodded. “It is now. I was
trying to decipher one of your grandmother’s notes about the Sweet Potato Pie
with Marshmallow Meringue.”

I crossed the room and gazed at the
recipe. Like all of Nana Reed’s culinary records, the ingredients and
directions for the popular Sky High selection were written on an index card that
had become stained and creased during the past four decades. My grandmother’s
distinctive handwriting, originally recorded in a vibrant blue ink, had faded
over the years to a faint shade of violet. Although the original copies of her
creations were locked away in a safe deposit box at Crescent Creek Savings
& Loan, I still hadn’t gotten around to transposing the contents of the
recipe collection into more legible versions.

“What was the question?” I asked.

Julia pointed at a squiggly
notation at the bottom of the card. “At first, I thought it said ‘lime
pinecones whisk porch mint pager,’ but then I realized it was ‘line piecrust
with parchment paper’ before you put in the dried beans or pie weights.”

“Aha!” I exclaimed, grabbing a
placemat from the cupboard. “I should write that down this instant. I was
looking at that the other day, trying to figure out what the heck she meant. I
didn’t even get as close as lime pinecones, so I salute your sleuthing skills,
Jules!”

She grinned from ear to ear. “Thank
you! I’m a triple threat, Katie! I can bake. I can negotiate Travis Schooner
down on the cost of repairing the convection oven. And I can decipher your
grandmother’s handwriting.”

I gave her a quick hug. “You got
Travis to do better on the price?”

“Yes, I did! We’re saving
eighty-three dollars and fifteen cents!”

“I’ll take it! Anywhere we can save
is a good thing in my book!”

The expression on Julia’s face told
me there was more to the story with Travis Schooner. When I asked her to share
the rest of the tale, she mumbled something about dance lessons.

“Okay, hold on,” I said. “Can you
please go over that one more time?”

She shrugged and looked away. “I
promised Travis that I’d teach him the line dance from
Footloose
.”

My mouth fell open and I was
momentarily speechless.

“What?” Julia said, her cheeks
flushing pink. “Didn’t you know that I was a first-class dance instructor on
the side?”

I shook my head. “I did not, but
now I do.”

“Dancing relaxes me,” she
explained. “When I was young, I’d spend hours in my parents’ bedroom in front
of the full-length mirror on their closet door.”

“And then what?” I asked. “You
started teaching at Arthur Murray?”

She smirked. “Don’t be snooty,
Kate. I’ve actually won a few dance competitions in my day.”

“Well, then I guess it’s true! You
learn something new every day.”

Julia nodded, turning her attention
back to the sweet potatoes in the bowl.

“Want me to zest the lemons?” I
asked.

“I can do it,” she said. “Do you
feel like making the batter for the Cocoa Loco Cupcakes?”

“Your wish is my command,” I joked.
“It looks like Harper’s got the dining room under control, so I can probably
finish out the afternoon in the kitchen with you.”

Julia shifted over and stole a
quick peek through the pass window. “Unless Blanche Speltzer goes rogue,” she
said.

Besides being the reigning queen of
gossip in Crescent Creek, Blanche was a daily regular at Sky High Pies. After
she retired from teaching history at the local high school on her seventy-fifth
birthday, Blanche had spent the last five years building a tight-knit network
of contacts in the area to keep her abreast of all the latest developments.
With her blue-rinsed hair, ever-present pearl necklace and sensible shoes,
Blanche was regaled as the oldest resident in town as well as one of the most
capricious. Depending on her mood and the results of the most recent bingo
night at Wagon Wheel Saloon, she could be either an absolute delight or a
thorny disaster.

I joined Julia at the pass window
and watched as Blanche greeted Harper with a delicate kiss to her cheek.

“Looks like a good day,” I said.
“She must’ve had a winning night at bingo.”

Julia returned to the mixer. “Thank
heavens for small miracles,” she said. “I remember a few months ago when she
and Constance Flagg battled it out for the top prize. After Mrs. Flagg hoisted
her cane and screamed that she had a winning card, Blanche threw her dauber
into the air and left a nasty orange streak down the back of Midge Gruber’s
white cashmere cardigan.”

I hadn’t heard the story, so I
launched into a laugh that elicited a rebuke from Harper.

“Hey!” she called through the pass
window. “Keep it down back there! Blanche is going to think you’re snickering
at her.”

“We are,” I whispered. “But I
promise to cool it.”

Harper gave me a thumbs up before
swinging back to work. The dining room was filled with regular customers and a
couple of new faces. As I surveyed the crowd, my eyes suddenly came to a halt
when I saw Trent walking through the front door.

“Uh-oh,” I said. “It’s the deputy
chief of police. Do you think somebody already filed a noise complaint?”

Julia looked up from the sweet
potatoes. “No doubt. They probably called in advance, knowing that you were
going to lose it this morning.”

“I think you’re right,” I said as Trent
motioned for me to come out of the kitchen. “He’s walking this way.”

After Julia told me that she’d bail
me out if necessary, I headed for the swinging door.

Trent flashed his dazzling smile as
I strolled into the dining room. “Hey, Katie!” he said in his deep baritone.
“What’s shakin’?”

I held out my hand and he gave it a
quick squeeze before surrounding me in a hug.

“Deputy Chief Walsh,” I said,
wiggling out of his arms. “How can I help you this morning?”

He tilted his head. “You can start
by calling me Trent.”

Since I’d returned to Crescent
Creek a few weeks earlier, Trent and I had developed a cordial working
relationship. Although our tumultuous high school romance was ancient history,
I still felt a pang in my heart when I heard his voice or saw his face. Even
more, I was constantly reminded that we can never truly escape our past; Trent’s
ex-wife and my teenage nemesis, Dina Kincaid, worked with him as a detective at
the Crescent Creek Police Department.

“Okay, Trent,” I said after a
moment or two. “What’s on your mind?”

“You,” he said.

The familiar flutter of melancholy
swept through me, but I kept the affable grin on my face and asked if he could
elaborate.

He flashed another smile. “Sure
thing, tiger.” His eyes widened slightly while the long ago nickname lingered
briefly in the air. “I hate delivering bad news over the phone,” he continued.
“Figured I’d come by and tell you in person.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, feeling a
sudden jolt of alarm. “Did something happen at—”

“Simmer down, Katie. It’s nothing
major. And there’s been no emergency in town. But I have to reschedule our
dinner. I’m heading over to Grand Junction today to give a deposition in a case
that involves someone I arrested last year.”

For a brief moment, I held his
gaze, feeling a mix of disappointment and relief. I’d been looking forward to
having dinner with Trent, but I also knew there were a million things to do for
Sky High Pies. Instead of enjoying a leisurely meal with an old friend, I could
use the time to pay bills, calculate food costs on a new pie recipe and file
the mountains of paperwork teetering on the edge of my desk.

“You’re frowning,” he said,
splintering my daydream. “Does that mean you’re going to miss me while I’m
gone?”

He’d been teasing me with similar
questions since I returned to Crescent Creek. My sister said it was because he
hoped to revive our romance. I figured it was because Trent joked with
everyone. His lighthearted, good-humored personality seemed like the exact
opposite of what many people would expect from the deputy chief of police. But Trent
had the ability to shift seamlessly between genial and solemn, depending on the
situation and circumstances. I was thinking about that ability when he asked if
I was okay.

I shrugged a silent response.

“No, I mean that sincerely,” he
said. “You seem a little…” He squinted and studied my face. “Kind of frazzled,”
he continued. “And maybe a bit pale.” He pressed the back of one hand against
my forehead. “Do you have a fever or something?”

His hand felt warm and calming, but
I quickly pushed it away and told him that I wasn’t sick.

“Frazzled?” I said. “You bet!
Exhausted and burning the candle at both ends? Absolutely! But I don’t have a
fever and my stomach isn’t upset. Everything would be just great if I could
find another twelve hours in the day and the guys that deliver from the dairy
could arrive at some point besides our breakfast rush because that always seems
to—”

“Whoa!” he chuckled. “Slow down
there, tiger. I was just concerned because you look kind of shaky on your
feet.” He shrugged. “That’s all, Kate. Just one friend worried about another.”

I felt my hands trembling, so I
stuck them in my apron pocket. “Well, thanks. That’s really…” He stepped back
and waited. “Well, that’s really sweet, Trent. Thank you for being concerned.”

“Maybe you should consider hiring
at least one more person to help out around here.”

“Wouldn’t that be amazing?” I
asked. “One more person would be nice, but I’m determined to stick to the same
business plan that my parents and grandparents used. They all ran Sky High with
just three full-time staffers and a part-time handyman.”

“Suit yourself, Katie,” Trent said.
“Traditions can be good things. But they can also hold you back if you’re too
stubborn.”

I narrowed my eyes and pressed my
finger against his chest. “I am
not
stubborn, Deputy Chief Walsh. I’m
just a woman with a strong will, a clear vision and—”

“The need to always be right,” he
interrupted. “But that’s why I love you so…” He stopped and blushed. “That’s
why I
like
you so much, Katie! Because you’re strong and passionate and
dedicated to pursuing your dream.”

I glanced around the dining room.
“Even when it can sometimes be a nightmare.”

Trent smiled. “Tomorrow will be a
better day.”

“I hope you’re right,” I said.

“I’m always right, too!” he said
with a mischievous wink. “Or haven’t you noticed yet?”

As he continued smiling, his
declaration sent me tumbling back in time to the night he dumped me for Dina.
It had rocked my teenaged world and left a scar on my heart. But it hadn’t
completely changed how I felt about Trent. He was human. He was capable of
mistakes. And he was also willing to admit when he was wrong. A few days after
I’d moved back to Colorado, he’d apologized for the callous, selfish way he’d
ended our high school romance. I’d graciously accepted the admission of guilt.
And I’d offered forgiveness. But I also knew that I’d never forget the pain and
humiliation I felt on that horrible night.

“Anyway,” Trent said as I surfaced
from the memory. “I should let you get back to work.”

I blinked and forced a smile. “Yes,
there are ten thousand things to do before noon.”

He leaned in, gave me a light kiss
on the cheek and promised to call when he got back to town.

“I still want to take you to
dinner,” he said, turning for the door. “Wherever you’d like to go.”

I watched him leave and then
checked with Harper to see if she needed anything before I got back to work.

“I’m fine,” she said. “And he’s
still one of the hottest men in town.” She raised an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t
let him get away, Kate.”

“And you shouldn’t worry about such
things,” I said, swatting her rear. “I’ve got my hands more than full with Sky
High Pies.”

“It’s not your hands I’m talking
about,” Harper said. “It’s your heart.”

I waved away the remark, mumbled
something about appreciating her concern and then made my way to the kitchen.
Julia was carefully studying another index card when I came through the
swinging door.

“What’s this word?” she asked, pointing
at a scribbled entry that had faded over the years. “I know your mother told me
once a while ago, but my brain is pretty much fried at this point.”

I studied the memo that Nana Reed
had added to her recipe for Harvest Moon Muffins, but the tangle of faint
letters didn’t resemble anything I could dredge up in my mind. “Well, it might
be golden raisins,” I suggested. “What do you think about that?”

Julia muttered under her breath.
“Nope,” she said. “Those are the third thing on the list and she wrote that
plain as day.”

I checked the list of ingredients.
Julia was right. I had no clue what the two smudged words were in the margin
beside the recipe.

“How about we skip whatever it is?”
I suggested. “If they taste bad when they come out of the oven, we can scrap
them for now until I can figure out what that says.”

A playful smile appeared on Julia’s
face. “You are
so
reading my mind right now. I didn’t know if you’d be
okay with that or not.”

“I’m more than okay with it on a
day like this,” I said. “And I promise that I will sit my butt down soon and
rewrite all of Nana Reed’s recipes. I’m so sorry that I haven’t tackled that
yet.”

Julia chuckled. “Your parents ran
this place for twenty-five years without doing that,” she said. “As long as
you’re here to interpret the chicken scratch that I can’t make out, we’ll be
just fine.”

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