Read When Magic Is Murder (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 4) Online

Authors: Mary Maxwell

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

When Magic Is Murder (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 4) (10 page)

BOOK: When Magic Is Murder (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 4)
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CHAPTER
21

 

 

The Dynamic Dimitri’s mailing
address turned out to be a small business on Baseline Road in Boulder. As the
bright blue neon sign above the door promised, Print, Pack & More offered
printing, packaging, shipping and thousands of office products in every shade
of the rainbow. When I approached the counter and explained to the woman that I
was trying to get in touch with the local magician, her bright smile collapsed
into a sour sneer.

“That’s against our policy,” she
said curtly.

“But I’m not trying to get
into
his mailbox,” I explained. “I’m just trying to see if you know how I can
contact him.”

The woman nodded. “Write him a
letter,” she said. “Then I’ll put it in his mailbox.”

I accepted the defeat stoically,
making my way out of the shop and onto the sidewalk with my head high and a
relaxed expression on my face. There was a coffee shop at the end of the block,
so I decided another jolt of java would be a good idea. It would also give me a
few minutes to relax before driving back to Crescent Creek. The man behind the
cash register was short and pale with a long, narrow face and rimless glasses.
The name tag clipped to the collar of his faded blue polo shirt identified him
as Bix. An old Bonnie Raitt song was playing on the overhead speakers, one of
her bluesy numbers about love and loss.

“Welcome to Maude’s,” Bix said.
“What would you like?”

I ordered a double espresso and
chocolate chip cookie. While he worked on my drink, I picked up a copy of
Boulder
Buzz
from a wire rack against the wall. Flipping through the classifieds in
the back, I noticed a small display ad:
MAGIC AT THE SPEED OF FRIGHT
.
The photograph showed the John Doe from the gazebo at Crescent Creek Lodge. He
was dressed in a tuxedo and top hat, with a limp stuffed rabbit in one hand and
a chainsaw covered with theatrical blood in the other. I put the newspaper on
the counter and took a picture of the ad with my phone. Then I whisked the
publication under my arm when the barista returned with my espresso. I swiped
my MasterCard to cover the eight dollars and waited while he used a pair of
dented stainless tongs to pluck a cookie from the large glass jar on the
counter.

“Do you know Dynamic Dimitri?” I
asked, showing him the ad.

“You a magic fan?”

I shrugged. “I can take it or leave
it,” I answered. “But I definitely want to know more about Dimitri.”

“Uh, that’s his stage name,” the
man said. “You were aware of that, right?”

“I had my suspicions. Someone gave
me his business card, but the calls go right to voicemail. I thought maybe if I
drove up, I could actually find out more about him.”

“Drove up?”

“I’m from Crescent Creek,” I
explained.

The guy nodded. “I’ve heard of that
place. Kind of quiet and sleepy?”

“Especially late at night.”

There was a flash of snark in his
eyes before he said, “Dimitri’s sister owns Paolo’s Pizza. Maybe she can help
you out.”

“His sister?”

“Geneva.”

“Do you have a last name?”

“Do I? Sure, my last name’s
Stinson.”

“I was talking about Geneva.”

He smiled. “Yeah, I knew what you
meant, but I don’t have her last name. I just know she’s his sister. And she owns
Paolo’s with this Italian dude she met as a foreign exchange student when they
were in high school. Whenever you have a pizza delivered, they tape one of
Dimitri’s post cards to the lid.”

“Oh, I get it,” I said. “A little
sibling cross-promotional thing, huh?”

“I suppose. Although I doubt if
anybody’s ever hired the guy that way. Once you open the box and eat the pizza,
the post card probably just goes out with the trash.”

I thanked Mr. Stinson for his time
and carried the espresso and cookie to a table near the front window. While I
sipped and nibbled, I returned a couple of emails that had come in requesting
more information about Sky High’s catering services. Then I surfed online for a
new pair of hiking boots. And then I put the phone back in my purse, enjoyed
the espresso and took a few minutes to stare blankly through the window at the
pedestrians strolling along the sidewalk.

A little slice of heaven
, I
thought.
A little respite from the world
.

CHAPTER
22

 

 

There wasn’t a soul in Paolo’s
Pizza when I opened the heavy wooden door about a half hour later. A woman
stood alone behind the tiny bar along one wall. She was a thirtysomething
blonde with short, spiky hair, a ballpoint clenched between her front teeth and
large gold bangles in both ears. She was beautiful in an effortless and casual
way; light blush on her cheeks, faint traces of mascara on her lashes and a
full mouth highlighted with candy apple red gloss. As I walked down the narrow
aisle between the tables, she tucked the pen behind one ear and beamed a warm
smile.

“Is your order for here or to go?”

“Are you Geneva?” I asked.

Her grin widened. “Yes,” she said.
“I’m Geneva.”

She kept her eyes on me,
undoubtedly searching for a faint memory that we’d met somewhere in the past. I
put my purse on the bar and dropped down onto one of the stools. It was a
four-footed cast iron monster with a tractor seat and plenty of nicks on the
footrest.

“How can I help you?”

I took a quick moment, smiling and
shifting on the stool while she put away the paperwork she’d been studying.

“Actually,” I said, “I was hoping
to talk to you about your brother.”

Her smile vanished and her eyes
narrowed. “What about him?”

“Bix at the coffee shop on Baseline
told me that you’re Dimitri’s sister.” I paused to see if there was a flicker
of recognition in her steely gaze. When her reticent expression held steady, I
decided to move on. “My name is Kate Reed,” I continued. “I’m from down in
Crescent Creek, and I used to work as a private investigator.”

Her lower lip trembled briefly
before she smiled again. “Oh, holy cow! Did some angry husband hire you to find
Alec and tell him to stay away from his wife?”

I shook my head. “No, that’s not
why—”

“Because I keep telling him to stop
messing around with the married ones. But he’s just like, I don’t know, catnip
to some women who are bored at home. He meets them mostly at their kids’
birthday parties, which is such a sad, sorry thing. I mean, like, they have my
brother entertain the little ones and end up trying to seduce him when they’re
writing the check.” A full-throttle laugh rolled out of her mouth. “And you
know what? Sometimes it works; he’s got quite the reputation among some of the
bored rich women in—”

“I’m not working for anyone’s
husband,” I interrupted. “I’m trying to help solve a different sort of
situation.”

Geneva was staring at me, one hand
on the bar and the other pressed against her cheek.

“Your brother’s name is Alec?”

Her jaw tightened. “Who are you
again?”

“My name’s Kate Reed. I used to be
a private—”

“What do you want with my brother?”

Since I’d received a text from Dina
a few minutes earlier—
Thanks for biz card. Sending Tyler Armstrong to
Boulder
—I knew it wasn’t my place to tell Geneva that her brother was dead.
I hesitated for a moment before deciding on an approach that I hoped would
work.

“Here’s the thing,” I said. “My
friend Becca owns a vintage clothing store. She met Alec when he came in and
bought a tuxedo. Apparently, when he was in the changing room, his EpiPen fell
out of his pocket or something. Becca left a few messages for your brother, but
he hasn’t called back. So I figured—”

“I’m sure he’s got another one,”
Geneva said. “He’s
really
allergic to birch tree pollen and a bunch of
other things, so he always takes one wherever he goes.”

I nodded. “Well, that’s what I told
Becca. But don’t you think he’d like the other one back?”

“Probably. I can give you his
mailing address if you’d like.”

“The P.O. box at the place on
Baseline?”

She smiled. “Yeah. That’s the best
address to use. Since the divorce, he’s been sofa surfing with friends.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear about that.
Is his ex-wife in Boulder?”

The woman’s face went blank,
although I could see fury in her eyes. “I told him to move,” she said. “Like,
maybe, go to California.” The anger softened and she smiled faintly. “Or
Timbuktu. Jenna was fine when they got married, but something happened along
the way.”

“Jenna was your brother’s wife?”

Geneva laughed again, another
throaty roar that echoed in the empty room. “More like his personal demon,” she
said. “It was around their third anniversary last year. Jenna accused Alec of
sleeping with her best friend. Which he didn’t do. But there was no way to
convince her. She kept hounding him and following him and confronting her
friend. It was so bad that the other girl took out a restraining order and Alec
filed for divorce.”

“Did Jenna keep your brother’s last
name after they split?”

“She never changed it. She’s still
Jenna Burton.”

“And what’s your last name?” I
said. “If you don’t mind.”

“Halstead,” Geneva said. “Same as
my brother.”

“How long were they married again?”

She sneered. “
Way
too long.”

I nodded, but didn’t want to
comment. The look on her face made it clear that the subject of her brother’s
marriage to Jenna Burton wasn’t one she’d like to pursue.

“Do you know if your brother was
involved with someone currently?”

The question earned another laugh.
“My brother’s
always
involved with at least one someone,” she answered.
“He’s a handsome guy, you know? Funny and smart and impossibly romantic.
Despite how it might sound, I really did want Alec and Jenna to work through
their troubles. But that deal crashed and burned almost from the beginning.”

“And so?”

“Oh, has he been seeing anyone
lately?”

I smiled.

“Well, he doesn’t talk to me all
that much about specifics,” Geneva said. “But I know he’s got on-again,
off-again situations with a couple of women. One’s married and wealthy; the
other is younger and he refers to her as his songbird because she’s always
singing.”

“His songbird?”

A melancholy grin appeared beneath
her pale green eyes. “Yeah, it’s like I said; my brother’s a huge romantic.
He’s always giving different nicknames to the women he dates. One was Peaches
and another was Love Nugget and…” She blushed and rolled her eyes. “I think that’s
probably more than you want to know.”

I thanked her and asked if she knew
whether Alec had been scheduled to perform in Crescent Creek two nights
earlier.

She answered with a shrug. “I have
no idea,” she said. “But he’s got a website. And he actually does a really good
job of keeping the calendar updated so people who want to hire him can see when
he’s available.”

“Okay, thanks.” I pulled out my
phone, swiped the screen and made a quick note. “I’ll check that out later.”

“Alec’s really talented,” Geneva volunteered.
“I mean, I don’t get the whole magic mixed with fake gore thing, but that’s for
his adult audiences. When he performs for kids, it’s all very sweet and
innocent. You know what I mean? Card tricks and silk scarves up his sleeve and
whatnot.”

I smiled. “The old-fashioned
stuff?”

“Yeah, exactly. More like the
things he did when we were younger. He didn’t start doing his ‘Magic at the
Speed of Fright’ act until about two or three years ago.”

“How often do you get to see him
perform?” I asked.

“Almost never,” she answered. “If
I’m not here working, I’m with my boyfriend mostly. And I’ve got a really tiny
apartment, so Alec only stays with me when he’s desperate. Luckily, that
doesn’t happen much because he’s got a million friends or former flames who let
him crash.”

“Sounds like he’s pretty social,
huh?”

“Totally the life of the party,”
she said. “That’s kind of why he got into magic in the first place. He was a
shy kid. Somebody gave him a beginner’s kit when he was, like, eight or nine.
You know—as a way to meet people? And it really worked. He actually got his
first paying job when he was still in middle school.”

“Is that when he became Dynamic
Dimitri?”

She smiled. “Yeah. He was obsessed
with Russia back then. I guess he fell in love with the name because of that.”

“And it’s how he makes a living?”

Another throaty laugh filled the
restaurant. “If you want to call it a living! He spent a small fortune on a
really fancy tux a few months ago. It was tailored for him by an old guy in
Denver. And it fit like a glove. But then Jenna the Freak broke into his SUV a
few weeks ago and shredded it.”

Two dots connected in my mind; Alec
bought the second-hand tuxedo from Becca’s shop because his ex-wife had
destroyed the custom-made one.

“Do you know where I might find
Jenna?”

Geneva’s eyes flashed open with
surprise. “Now, why would you want to do something like that? She’s a witch on
a broomstick, okay? Just the essence of evil. The most
awful
kind of…”
When she stopped, a tiny gasp came from her mouth. “Are you a
friend
of
hers?” she demanded. “Is this some kind of
trap
?”

“Oh, gosh no! I was just curious.”

She pressed her lips together. “
Curious
?”

I smiled. “But don’t worry about
it,” I said. “I was just trying to find your brother because of…” I caught
myself. “Because of the EpiPen that he left behind. And now I can—”

A skinny man with a red bandana
around his head suddenly stormed into the dining room from the kitchen. He was
wearing an apron splattered with something red and the look on his face
screamed rage. He ignored me entirely and approached Geneva with both hands on
his hips.

“When did you buy those tomatoes?”
he demanded.

She spun around and glared at the
man. “Ed? I’m kind of—”

“One of those cans just
exploded
on me,” he said. “And now I have a huge mess to clean up.”

The tension between them was
palpable; it was also a good reason for me to leave. I didn’t want to extend
the conversation and be forced to lie about the woman’s brother. As the man in
the bandana stomped back into the kitchen, I slipped off the tractor-seat
stool.

“You know what?” I said. “I’m going
to head out. I really appreciate you taking a moment to talk.”

She leaned across the bar. “You
sure Jenna didn’t send you?”

I nodded. “I’ve never met her.”

“Good,” Geneva hissed. “Keep it
that way. I thought maybe this was about the screaming match they got into last
week.”

“Screaming match?”

“She’s crazy,” Geneva said. “I
mean, certifiable, loony bin
crazy
! She accused my brother of sleeping
with some woman she used to be friends with. As if…I mean, as if she has any
say about what he does, okay? They’re divorced. It’s over. Move on, crazy
lady!”

“Sounds like she’s got some
leftover baggage,” I suggested.

Geneva sputtered a few garbled words.
Then she said, “I drive by her salon over there on Tremont every frickin’ day
and it makes my stomach turn. It’s called From Hair to There! Have you ever
heard such a
stupid
name for a salon?”

“I bet it made sense to somebody,”
I said.

She shrugged and grumbled again.
“You know, I don’t wanna be rude or anything, but I don’t really want to talk
about my brother’s ex-wife anymore, okay?”

I nodded.

“If you have other questions,” she
added. “Maybe you can talk to my brother about it.”

“Sure,” I said, swallowing the pang
of guilt that flickered in my throat. “I’m sorry if I got you upset.”

She frowned. “I’m fine. I just
don’t wanna think about Jenna Burton. She’s ancient history. And nobody I’d
ever want to talk to again.”

“Got it,” I said, smiling. “Thanks
again for your time.”

BOOK: When Magic Is Murder (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 4)
7.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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