Red Velvet, Dead Velvet (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 3)

by Mary Maxwell

  Abe glanced at me and frowned. “I knew this would happen,” he murmured. “And whatever comes next, it’s not going to end well.”

  CHAPTER 33

  For a split-second, the world stopped completely. There was no sound, no movement, nothing to suggest that the unfolding scene was part of real life. And then Pepper wedged two fingers in her mouth and unleashed a deafening whistle.

  “Amanda!” she cried. “Would you please stop shrieking like that? I’m trying to think in here!”

  Sonya wandered slowly into the living room, nervously twisting a few strands of hair with one finger. “This is not how it was supposed to go, Pepper. You told Ivy that Walter would give up if we threatened to go public with his story.”

  The megaphone howled again, a deafening, high-pitched noise. “Okay, so what’ll it be?” Amanda asked from outside.

  “Tell her to stop making that noise!” Sonya yelped. “I can’t stand the sound of her voice!”

  “How do you think I feel?” Pepper hissed, shooting a prickly glance at Sonya. “These past few days listening to your voice have been sheer torture.”

  Abe looked over at me again. “Like I said, this isn’t going to end well.”

  “Shut up, Abe!” Pepper jeered. “Go back in there and make sure Walter and Princess Cry-Baby aren’t getting into any trouble.”

  I laughed. “Really, Pepper? You’re worried about them getting into trouble?”

  She spun around, fixing me with a scorching glare. “Kate, I really think you should keep your mouth zipped! None of this would be happening if you didn’t snoop into our personal affairs.”

  “No, it’s more like, none of this would be happening if you all didn’t…” I glanced quickly from Pepper to Sonya and Abe. “Didn’t what? What is it you thought you were doing anyway?”

  “Seriously?” Sonya sneered at me; her eyes filled with a blend of contempt and puzzlement. “We were getting our money back from that old geezer.”

  “From Walter?” I asked.

  Abe scoffed. “Who else, genius?”

  I smiled at Pepper. “Can I ask a simple question?”

  She grunted. “What?”

  “If you didn’t want me looking into the letter that Ivy claimed she found at the library, why did she call me in the first place?”

  “That was supposed to be subterfuge,” Pepper said. “We thought that if you started snooping around and learned about the Summerfields, you would focus everyone’s attention on them as the suspects in Walter’s disappearance.”

  “But we underestimated you,” Abe said.

  Walter thudded against the wall again.

  “Abe?” Sonya said, her voice reeling with disdain.

  “What?”

  “Pepper’s right,” Sonya said. “Get back in there and keep an eye on those two. At this point, they’re all the bargaining chips we have.”

  “There’s no bargaining left here, Sonya,” I said calmly. “You three should surrender now and go peacefully. Whatever you’ve done will be easier to deal with if you stop digging the hole right this second.”

  Abe cleared his throat. “I think she’s got a point, Pepper.”

  “Abe!” Sonya slowly raised one hand and pointed to the hallway. “Get. Back. In. There!” She paused, inching toward him. “That was your job, Abe! Now, go!”

  With a quick grunt and a muttered string of playground insults, Abe retreated to the next room. When he opened the door and stepped inside, Walter Shipp began thudding against the wall again.

  “He’s your biggest mistake,” Pepper said, glowering at Sonya. “Him and listening to Ivy in the first place. When you told me about Cry-Baby’s brother having too much to drink and confiding in you about their plan to strong-arm Walter, I didn’t think…” She paused, clucking with contempt. “But, you know what? That wasn’t your biggest mistake. It was mine; I never should’ve let you tell me about those two Summerfield punks in the—”

  The siren on the patrol car wailed briefly. Then Amanda repeated her demands through the megaphone. I waited for a moment before I asked Pepper what she was going to do next. She was leaning against the doorframe, idly tapping the barrel of the revolver on one leg.

  “Pepper?”

  She slowly turned and our eyes locked. “Kate?”

  “This isn’t how you thought it would go, right?”

  Her eyes drifted away, landing on a patch of sunlight that sliced across the faded rug.

  “Look,” I said. “We all make mistakes. Some bigger than others. And this is a pretty sizeable one, but it can be resolved without anybody getting hurt.”

  Sonya drifted across the room to the easy chairs. “Why don’t you go out there?” she said, smiling in my direction. “Tell them we messed up and we’re sorry.”

  “Don’t be a fool, Sonya,” Pepper said, slowly closing the door. “This is reality. We screwed up. Now it’s time to pay the piper.”

  “But we need to get our money back,” Sonya whispered. “It’s the whole reason any of us agreed to go along with your plan.”

  “Don’t pin this on me,” Pepper said. “I maybe suggested the original idea, but all three of you got onboard of your own volition.”

  Sonya frowned. “Our own what?”

  “She means you got involved willingly,” I said. “And what I told you a moment ago is true; if you put down the gun and go outside peacefully, whatever happens next will be a lot better for everyone.”

  “That’s easy for you to say, Kate.” Pepper flashed a cold smile. “You’ll come out of this and go back to—what? Baking pies and cookies? Being the hero? Looking like some kind of—”

  “Pepper?” Amanda Crane’s megaphone split the air. “We don’t have all day, okay? You about ready to come on out?”

  When she finished, the room was still again. I glanced at Sonya, anxiously twisting the lock of hair and staring at Pepper.

  “What do you want to do, Sonya?” I asked.

  She flinched. “What?”

  I repeated the question, but she shook her head and turned to Pepper.

  “Okay,” I said. “Looks like it’s up to you, Pepper.”

  The icy grin reappeared on her face. “I’m well aware of that, thanks. But I can’t really think if you keep talking.”

  I nodded, deciding it would be best to keep quiet for a few minutes. As I swiveled my gaze from Pepper, standing with her back against the door and her chin on her chest, to Sonya, nervously curling the strands of hair on her finger, I heard a muted click from the kitchen.

  “Pepper?” Amanda called from outside. “What’s it gonna be?”

  I held my breath, straining to detect another sound from the back of the cabin. But Pepper launched into a fresh rant that made it impossible to hear anything beyond the four walls of the living room.

  “Why don’t you at least talk to her?” I suggested when she finished.

  Pepper shook her head. “I need to figure this out,” she said, sounding defeated. “Then I’ll decide who I talk to and—” Her voice broke and sputtered briefly before she took a step forward. “What are you…”

  I glanced over my shoulder. Denny Santiago was standing in the open kitchen door with his service revolver aimed at Pepper.

  “How did you…” Sonya popped out of the chair like a jack-in-the-box lurching from a child’s toy. “How’d you get in here?”

  “Ma’am,” Denny said, motioning with one hand. “Why don’t you sit back down?”

  Pepper took another step, the pistol still tapping against her leg. “This is all a big misunderstanding,” she said. “We can expla—”

  “Ma’am?” Denny’s voice was crisp and unhurried. “I need you to put down that gun, okay?”

  I nodded at Pepper. “It’ll be okay,” I said. “Just kneel down and—”

  “I don’t need you to explain it to me, Kate.” She began to comply with the request, going to one knee and staring at the faded rug, before suddenly standing again. She kept her eyes on Denny th
e entire time as if it would convey something more than submission.

  When he repeated the command to put down the gun, Pepper smiled. “And then what?” she asked him. “You going to read me my rights?”

  CHAPTER 34

  It took Denny another ten minutes to convince Pepper that she should surrender and face the consequences. When he heard another man’s voice, Abe inched slowly back into the room with both hands trembling overhead. He and Sonya were as docile and compliant as lambs; their doleful eyes glued to Officer Santiago as his calm voice slowly diffused the pressure in the room.

  When Pepper finally comprehended what would happen next, crocodile tears began trickling down her cheeks. As soon as the revolver was safely on the Navajo rug and both hands were on the back of her head, I hurried into the next room to check on Walter Shipp and Annabeth Summerfield.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded angrily.

  “Trying to help,” I said.

  Annabeth was balanced on the edge of a twin bed, her left hand swaddled in cotton pads and duct tape. Walter was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall and his left wrist handcuffed to the leg of an armoire. I walked to Nigel’s sister, ignoring Walter’s muttered curses and threats.

  “Are you okay?”

  She held up the hand. “Yeah, I was cutting a lemon when those lunatics burst through the back door at his house.” She gestured at Walter. “We’d been talking about my father and—“”

  “I told you already!” Walter blurted. “That was an accident, you stupid little snot-nosed…” He didn’t finished the insult, choosing instead to slump back against the wall and stare at me silently.

  Annabeth’s eyes were still wide with fright. “Are you with the police?”

  I clarified why I’d come to the cabin. I told her about the initial call from Ivy Minkler. I explained that I was merely satisfying my own curiosity and trying to unravel the mystery of the anonymous death threat when she and Walter went missing. Then I described my background as a PI and how it occasionally came in handy when strange events unfolded in Crescent Creek.

  “But I still don’t exactly understand,” she said when I finished. “You run a café, and…you also work as a detective?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not a job. But after ten years in the business, I still sometimes—”

  “She’s a busybody!” Walter groused. “A meddlesome moron who can’t stop poking around in things that are none of her concern.”

  Annabeth sighed. “You know what, Mr. Shipp?”

  He glared at her crossly, his mouth a jagged frown and his eyes bright with fury.

  “I think all of this has been worth it,” she continued. “Being kidnapped by that woman, spending the night in this room while you snored and not knowing if I was going to make it out of here alive or whatever. I’d go through all of it again just to see you pay for everything you’ve done to hurt other people.”

  The wrath in Walter’s gaze intensified. “I’m not going to pay one red cent!” he seethed. “I’m a victim here, young lady. Just the same as you.”

  “We’re not the same,” Annabeth said confidently. “You’re a murderer, a liar and a thief. You killed our father and then you took his money, the money that he wanted my brother and I to have.”

  “That’s a load of crap!” Walter’s voice was thick with contempt. “And it’s all ancient history. Even if any of it was true, the statute of limitations ran out long ago.”

  “I believe you’re wrong on that,” I said as Walter fidgeted with the handcuffs. “It may be what you describe as ‘ancient history,’ but you can still be charged with—”

  “Nonsense!” he blurted. “After three years, the police can’t touch me. And that’s if I had anything to do with the death of Charles Summerfield.” He lifted his chin and laughed. “Which, of course, I most certainly did not!”

  “You stupid old man!” Annabeth hissed. “Misinformed and arrogant as always!”

  Walter grinned. “I have never been misinformed in my life,” he said. “I know that the statute of limitations on a felony in the state of New York is three years.” He sighed and ran one hand over his face. “It’s now been nearly six years since your father died. There’s nothing anyone can do to charge me.”

  “Actually,” I said, “you’re wrong about the statute of limitations on Mr. Summerfield’s murder.”

  Walter didn’t say anything.

  “I was curious about that myself,” I said. “So I did a little research. And, according to the New York penal code, the prosecution can charge someone with a crime at any point if it’s deemed especially heinous.”

  “Like what?” asked Annabeth.

  “Well, like stealing public funds,” I told her. “Or—”

  “I didn’t take any public anything,” Walter spat.

  “Or a crime that can be punishable by life in prison,” I added. “Like murder.”

  “There was no murder,” Walter rasped. “And that means that you are the misinformed one here, not me!”

  I was trying to decide what to say next when Amanda Crane came into the room.

  “Kate?” she said. “Can you do me a favor and head outside? Trent just got here and he’d like a word.”

  Walter scoffed. “There you go, Miss Reed. Time to get your wrist slapped for meddling.”

  Amanda put one finger against her lips. “Hush, Mr. Shipp! I think we’ve all heard just about enough out of you for the time being.”

  While he continued muttering and cursing, I headed for the front of the cabin. As I crossed the living room, a pair of EMTs came through the door. I stepped to the side and waited as they hurried past with their equipment before going outside into the swirl of uniformed officers and patrol cars. I saw Trent straightaway, leaning against an ambulance and talking on his phone. I walked slowly toward him, knowing that the first thing out of his mouth would be a familiar refrain.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I smiled. “Just trying to help,” I said.

  He shook his head. “Is that what you call it? I’d say you were being obstinate and reckless.”

  I held out my arms. “I’m fine, Deputy Chief Walsh. Not a scratch!”

  “What am I going to do with you, Katie? I ask you to be careful and you end up being held at gunpoint.”

  “It wasn’t even loaded,” I said. “I heard Santiago talking to someone while I was in with Walter and Annabeth. There were no bullets in Pepper’s gun.”

  Trent smirked. “Doesn’t matter. You didn’t know that when you bulldozed your way into the situation.”

  “Bulldozed?”

  His forehead crinkled. “How would you describe what you did?”

  “Sashayed with caution?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t play games, Katie.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll admit that I wasn’t as careful as I might’ve been back in Chicago.”

  “Might have been?”

  I took a deep breath. “It’s like I said, I was trying to help. When Ivy called me the other day, scared out of her wits about the letter she found, I thought—”

  “We picked her up at the book fair,” Trent said. “She couldn’t spill the beans fast enough once she got to the station.”

  “She confessed?”

  “To the whole thing,” Trent answered. “She claimed that the idea started when she and Pepper learned that Sonya and Abe had both lost a bunch of money on Walter’s scheme. Then Sonya apparently met that Nigel guy at some book fair cocktail party. He got plastered, told her all about the death threat letter and the rest is history.”

  “Well, who was the ringleader?” I asked. “Was it Pepper?”

  He smiled. “I suppose it was her, but all four of them were involved. Ivy stole the envelope of stuff from Nigel’s sister at the library. Pepper, Abe and Sonya ambushed Walter at his place, but they hadn’t planned on…” He squinted at me. “What’s the sister’s name?”

  “Annabeth,” I sai
d.

  “Right,” Trent continued. “They didn’t know she’d be at Walter’s that afternoon trying to get him to confess that he killed her father.” He put one hand on his cheek. “You know, these people all deserve one another, like a bunch of babbling idiots trying to rob Fort Knox with a Nerf gun or something.”

  “They’re not quite geniuses, are they?”

  “Not even close.”

  “And what about Ivy?”

  “She’s being booked on a nice laundry list of charges,” he answered. “They range from accessory to kidnapping and extortion to facilitating a felony. Same thing as the other three will get once they’re at the station.”

  I felt my stomach tighten. “Same charges for all four?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, but we’ll have to see how the dust settles first. I talked to the D.A. on my drive up here. She wasn’t surprised that someone crossed the line, but she didn’t think it’d be Pepper McIntosh and those other three clowns.”

  “Crossed the line?”

  “With Walter Shipp,” Trent answered. “Plenty of people were aware of his failed Ponzi scheme, even if only a handful of locals invested.”

  “Don’t you just love the way gossip spreads around here?”

  “This wasn’t gossip,” said Trent. “From what we’ve learned so far, Walter Shipp knowingly constructed the scam. I guess he pulled it more than once when he lived back east. Although, to be honest, that’s the least of his problems.”

  “Think he’ll be extradited on murder charges?”

  Trent chuckled. “That’s a sure bet, Katie. I’ve already talked to the PI in Albany that the Summerfields hired as well as a contact at the NYPD. And you know what I say?”

  “Have a nice flight?”

  “Good riddance!” He brushed his hands together and held the palms out. “I don’t think there’s a way to completely clean house around here, but it’s good to know that at least one reprobate will be somebody else’s problem.”

  Amanda Crane called to Trent from the front porch.

  “What was that?” he yelled, cupping one hand to his ear.