by Mary Maxwell
I snickered softly. “Walter Shipp does. He told me once that it reminds him of his grandmother because she always served butterscotch sauce with cakes and pies.”
Harper chuckled. “He hasn’t been in for a couple of weeks, you know. I figured he’s probably laying low until the dust settles.”
“What dust?” Julia asked.
“The kind that gets stirred up by shady business deals,” Harper continued. “Bernice Wainwright told me that she heard he was involved in a pretty awkward situation with several people in town. They invested in one of his ideas, but it looks like he spent their money paying his old debts or something.”
“Ouch!” I said with an exaggerated wince. “That’s not a very good way to make friends.”
Julia shook her head while Harper laughed.
“And what’s that?” Julia pointed at the Sky High box in my hand. “A bribe or a peace offering?”
“Neither,” I replied. “I thought that I’d take him a couple slices of Red Hot Red Velvet as a little treat.”
“That’s nice,” Julia said. “When do you think you’ll be back?”
I slipped my purse over my shoulder. “By three or four. But call if you need me or anything wacky happens.”
She waved a spatula as I headed for the door. “Anything wacky?” Her musical giggle followed the question. “That describes every day around here, Katie!”
CHAPTER 7
Java & Juice was surprisingly quiet when I walked through the door to buy a Berry Blue Mist smoothie to sip while I ran errands. Located on bustling Edgevale Avenue near the Crescent Creek town square, the popular shop was usually packed with patrons buying coffee drinks, fresh fruit smoothies and a selection of sweet and savory baked goods. My mother had been longtime friends with the owner, a 60-year-old livewire named Pepper McIntosh, so the Java & Juice menu also featured Sky High’s pies, scones and cupcakes.
“Did y’all close early, Katie?” Pepper asked in the drawl that had accompanied her when she and her husband moved from Georgia to Colorado years earlier. “It’s not even half past one.”
Pepper loved teasing people almost as much as she enjoyed serving delicious drinks and snacks. I gave her a lighthearted smirk as I walked up to the counter.
“Julia and Harper have everything under control,” I told her. “They’re the backbone of the operation anyway. I sometimes think they could get along better without me gumming up the works.”
Pepper frowned. “If ‘gumming up the works’ means the same thing as ‘keeping the quality sky high,’ then I truly doubt it. You’re doing a great job running the place since your parents retired to Florida, Katie. It’s pretty evident that you inherited the culinary and hospitality genes from both your mother and grandmother!”
I pinched the extra padding around my waist. “That’s not all I inherited,” I said. “I swear that my hips are getting wider every day.”
“Want to know my little secret?” she asked, lowering her voice.
I nodded.
“Don’t eat too much of the merchandise.” Pepper tapped one finger on the glass-fronted display case between us. It was filled with sugary treats in every color of the rainbow. “When I first opened this place, I packed on ten pounds in the first five minutes. Of course, I was gobbling up the day-old cookies and scones that your mother made for us. As soon as I put the kibosh on that habit, I went right back to my girlish figure.”
I started to say something sassy to Pepper about her svelte shape when the front door opened.
“Uh-oh,” Pepper whispered. “Here comes trouble.”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Sonya Lipton breezing into the shop. Her slender body was encased in a skintight animal print dress, enormous pitch-black sunglasses covered her eyes and her feet were squeezed into a pair of backless bright red stilettos. Although she told most people that she was on the sunny side of forty, Blanche Speltzer had confided to me once over a dirty martini at The Wagon Wheel that Sonya’s age was closer to fifty.
I smiled at the new arrival and then asked Pepper for a small Berry Blue Mist.
“You do love blueberries, don’t you?” she said with a wink.
“Always have,” I answered. “And I’ll take them in any form—smoothies, pies, scones, chewing gum, lollipops and cakes.”
The overpowering aroma of Sonya’s perfume engulfed me as Pepper walked to the back counter and began mixing my drink.
“Sweetheart!” Sonya called. “Can you make that two Berry Blues? I’m kind of lethargic this afternoon. A yummy smoothie sounds great!” After Pepper acknowledged the request with a faint smile, Sonya heaved a theatrical sigh, moved her sunglasses to the sculpted tip of her slender nose and peered at me through bloodshot eyes. “And how are you today, Kate? I can see that you haven’t taken my advice about paying a visit to Dr. Brubaker.” She ran one finger over her unnaturally smooth forehead. “The injections don’t hurt a bit and the results are…” Her glossy lips curved into a vain smile. “…well, the results are absolutely stunning!”
Since we first met a few weeks after I returned to Crescent Creek, Sonya had been dispensing beauty tips nearly every time we spoke. Her pointers included Botox treatments from a popular cosmetic surgeon in Boulder, a new line of shapewear to shrink my midsection and special almond-infused products to give my hair body and sheen. I always smiled politely and thanked her for the recommendations, even though I wasn’t tempted to make an appointment with Dr. Brubaker, squeeze into vice-like elastic girdles or pay eighty dollars for a tiny bottle of fancy shampoo.
“You really should give it a try, Kate.” She fixed her red-rimmed eyes on my forehead. “It can do wonders for those unsightly and unpleasant spots we all struggle with.”
I smiled graciously and ignored the sarcastic remark. “You look beautiful as always, Sonya. How have you been?”
She answered with another melodramatic moan. “I’m absolutely up to my eyeballs in staying busy, busy, busy!” she announced. “I’m redecorating the place in Palm Springs. Lydia Treadwell and I are planning a Mediterranean cruise for next June. And my new beau is keeping me up into the wee hours nearly every night!” She paused and winked with one drowsy eye. “I’m not getting enough sleep,” she added. “But all of my other needs are being satisfied.” Her lustrous, jet-black lashes flapped excitedly. “If, that is, you know what I mean!”
I cringed slightly at the ill-mannered comment. “Well, doesn’t that all sound just wonderful?” I asked, hoping to strike the right balance between sincerity and indifference. I never understood why some people felt life was a competition measured in money, status and romance, but I’d been around the block enough times to know that the best response to such blatant showiness was a pleasant smile. After we stood in silence for a few moments, I asked Sonya what she had planned for the afternoon.
“I was on my way to visit my new gentleman friend over on Evergreen Road earlier,” she said. “But I heard traffic was backed up due to a bad accident, so I decided to cool my heels for a while. First, I got a facial. Then I had a lovely hot stone massage. And now I’m here getting a smoothie! The latest news update on the radio said the roads should be back to normal in the next few minutes. Thank goodness! If there’s one thing I hate more than an unfaithful spouse, it’s getting stuck in traffic!”
Pepper approached with two blueberry smoothies and paper-wrapped straws. She placed them on the counter and announced that they were on the house.
“You don’t have to do that,” I said, reaching into my purse.
She leaned across the counter and lightly swatted my hand. “I know that I don’t have to,” she said. “But I want to. You’re two of my favorite customers. I think it’s a nice thing to treat someone every now and then.”
Sonya thanked Pepper for the smoothie. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat with you ladies,” she added. “But I’m off to see my new paramour!”
Pepper managed a smile. “How lovely for you, hon!”
“Good
to see you, Sonya!” I called as she swayed toward the door.
Pepper and I watched speechlessly as she left the shop and tottered down the sidewalk.
“I tried walking in heels that high once,” Pepper said sadly.
I nodded. “How’d it go?”
She chuckled. “Two bruised ribs, a broken wrist and a lifetime commitment to ballet flats.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Sonya’s really something, isn’t she?”
“She’s definitely something alright,” Pepper replied. “Something that most men can’t seem to resist even when they see the dollar signs in her eyes and the little horns poking up from that bouffant she teases to high heaven.”
I shrugged. “Lots of men would give an arm and a leg to go out with her.”
Pepper rolled her eyes. “An arm and a leg,” she agreed. “Even though it might cost also them five million dollars when the marriage ends!”
My mouth dropped open. “Seriously? Is that what she got in the divorce settlement?”
“Don’t quote me. But that’s what I heard from someone very reliable.”
I leaned closer. “Her attorney?”
Pepper scowled. “You know that I never divulge my sources.”
“I just wanted to see if I could catch you off guard.”
“Not today, whippersnapper! I ate my Wheaties, took my vitamins and got eight hours of sleep last night!”
“You’re doing better than me,” I said. “It’s already been a long day and there are many miles to go before I can collapse into a heap. I have to run around town and get some last-minute supplies for our book fair booth before I drive out and see Walter Shipp.”
Pepper wrinkled her nose and made a sour face. “He stopped in a few days ago,” she said. “And I’ll tell you what! Talk about somebody being in a foul mood!”
“Really? What was he upset about?”
“Well, you didn’t hear this from me,” Pepper answered. “But one of Walter’s get-rich-quick Ponzi schemes went up in a puff of smoke last month. A bunch of folks in town lost a bunch of money. There’s talk that old Walter should be tarred and feathered and run out of Crescent Creek.”
“Didn’t that practice die out a couple of hundred years ago?”
Pepper shrugged. “Not according to our good friend Sonya. I ran into her, Ivy Minkler and Liza Moore at Taco Time last week. The four of ’em were steamed, Kate. I mean, really mad about Walter.”
“Mad enough to tar and feather the poor guy?”
She nodded. “That and plenty worse. Liza kept repeating the old Alfred Hitchcock quote about revenge.”
I smiled. “I don’t think I’ve heard that one.”
“‘Revenge is sweet,’” Pepper said, “‘but not fattening.’”
The adage made me giggle. “I’ll have to remember that, especially when the conversation turns to our friend and his Ponzi scheme. I mean, the guy is suddenly like Rome; all conversations lead to Walter Shipp.”
“You lost me, Katie. What’re you going on about?”
I quickly explained that I’d had a chat involving the ubiquitous Mr. Shipp the previous day with someone else in town.
“Ubiquitous?” Pepper grimaced. “Can we skip the fancy words? I’m just a simple country girl from Hogswamp, Georgia.”
“Uh-huh, sure,” I replied. “A simple country girl who got a PhD in microbiology and worked for the CDC before running away to open a successful coffee shop and juice bar in the mountains.”
Pepper squinted at me as a jubilant chuckle twirled out of her mouth. “We aren’t talking about me, sunshine. You were getting ready to tell me why Walter Shipp’s been the conversational topic du jour lately.”
“I can’t really go into it,” I said. “It’s a delicate matter.”
“Oh, I get it! Somebody asked you to do some undercover snooping.”
I shook my head. “No comment.”
Pepper chuckled again. “Fine by me,” she said. “But whatever you do…” She leaned closer and started to whisper. “…don’t mention Sonya’s name when you’re talking to Walter.”
The needle on my curiosity meter went crazy. “Why?” I asked. “Did something happen between the two of them?”
More laughter slipped from Pepper’s mouth. “That’s just the problem,” she said. “Nothing happened. Before she met her new boyfriend, Sonya approached Walter one night at The Wagon Wheel. He rejected the proposition even though she basically draped her entire body across his lap.”
“Walter turned her down?” I couldn’t believe the news. “I thought he was the biggest womanizer this side of the Mississippi.”
Pepper nodded. “Basically,” she said. “But I guess he declined Sonya’s offer. And she nearly ripped the poor man’s head right off.”
“In the bar?”
Pepper smiled. “Yes, ma’am. With more than a dozen witnesses. Blanche has a video of it on her phone.”
“That must be a first for both of them,” I said. “He’s known as a womanizer and she’s notorious for being a flirt.”
“You’re right,” Pepper agreed. “A womanizer and a flirt. But word on the street is Walter knew she was only looking for another wealthy guy to bilk. In the end, Sonya took up with Walter’s neighbor to rub his nose in it. Now, whenever she goes over there, she toots the horn on her little sports car so Walter knows she’s making whoopee with Abe Waterhouse instead of him.”
“That’s a pretty juvenile thing to do,” I said. “But fairly harmless.”
Pepper frowned. “To be honest with you, I’m actually worried about what Sonya might do.” The warm twinkle in her eyes dulled to a cold, lifeless glare. “If she doesn’t punch his clock, I imagine one of the people he just scammed will be happy to do the job.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m genuinely concerned about Walter,” Pepper answered. “I know it sounds silly, but Sonya’s got more than one loose screw under all that plastic surgery. She’s built her entire reputation on being an irresistible icon of beauty and feminine wiles. And I really think Walter Shipp is the first man to turn down her advances. When he rebuffed her that night, she started shrieking that he’d better watch his back.” Pepper lowered her voice even more. “Betty Walton actually heard Sonya say that she knew people who could put Walter out of his misery for good.” She paused to let me consider the meaning of the hushed remark. “And if that isn’t a death threat,” she added, “I don’t know what is.”
For a brief moment, I felt the urge to tell her about the letter that Ivy found at the library. Instead, I took a long sip of my smoothie and listened to Pepper speculate a bit further about Sonya’s intentions.
“Oh, come on!” I said in disbelief when she finished. “I could see her saying something like that if she’d had too much to drink, but—”
“She was stone cold sober,” Pepper interrupted. “Betty said the look in Sonya’s eyes was so vicious it made her shudder.”
I drank more of my smoothie and listened as Pepper continued sharing her friend’s description of the incident at The Wagon Wheel.
“Well, I don’t know,” I said finally. “I’m no saint. And I try not to gossip much. But I still catch myself every now and then.”
“Like this very minute!” Pepper exclaimed with another burst of giddy laughter. “But don’t sweat it, Kate. I’m human. You’re human. And we all sometimes get a little curious about what other people do behind closed doors.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” I said. “When I’m behind closed doors, I usually try to catch up on sleep or take a bubble bath.”
She smiled. “Well, from the scuttlebutt I’ve heard around town, that’s all subject to change in the very near future.”
I frowned. “I don’t follow you,” I said. “What do you mean?”
A mischievous gleam filled her eyes. “A very knowledgeable source told me that you met a handsome photographer.”
I felt my cheeks go pink. “Possibly,” I said, as Pepper hurried
around the counter and gave me a warm hug. “But that’ll have to wait for another time. I need to get going. I have to pickup some flyers for the book fair and find something new to wear tonight before I go see Walter.”
“Okay, hon!” the bubbly shopkeeper said. “Drive carefully! I’ll see you tomorrow at the book fair!”
CHAPTER 8
I was sitting at a red light on the way to Walter Shipp’s place when the phone buzzed in my purse. I’d been absentmindedly considering the mini cupcakes and bite-sized pies we were making for the fair. After several discussions with Julia and Harper during the past month, we’d settled on a total of six hundred per day, divided evenly between diminutive versions of our most popular goodies. I was beginning to worry that we’d run out if the crowds were especially large, but then Julia suggested we could always prepare a few dozen extra in a hurry, if necessary. “I can mix batter, fill the tins and frost cupcakes in my sleep,” she’d joked. “We’ll be fine, Katie. And if I need to stay late to make it happen, I’ll be more than happy to do so.”
I was smiling at her boundless enthusiasm and confident spirit as I checked the name on the phone.
“Well, if it isn’t Deputy Chief Walsh,” I said to my long ago high school boyfriend. “Did you get my message last night?”
Trent sneezed loudly. “Yeah, sorry about that, Katie,” he said. “I actually got it this morning. I have a really bad cold so I crashed extra early...” The foghorn yowl of a squelchy cough filled my ear. “…last night,” he added after catching his breath. “And I’m a little confused about what you were talking about.”
“Some things never change,” I teased. “You’re a big brute, Deputy Chief Walsh. But your ability to—”
“I don’t have time for chitchat,” he suddenly blurted. “There was a really bad accident over on Tremont Drive earlier. A couple of high school tough guys skipped school to play chicken with their trucks. We’ve got two kids in the hospital and a bunch of angry parents to deal with. Can you just cut to the chase?”
