Death Before Diamonds (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 10)

by Mary Maxwell

  Death Before Diamonds

  Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries / 10

  Mary Maxwell

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  © 2016 Mary Maxwell 09302016

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, recorded or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  NANA REED’S SKY HIGH RECIPES

  CHAPTER 1

  I had just finished organizing the files and envelopes on my desk when someone knocked loudly on the front door of Sky High Pies, the bakery café that my grandmother first opened more than four decades earlier in Crescent Creek, Colorado. I’d returned to my hometown after a dozen years as a private investigator in Chicago to take the helm when my parents retired and flew south to Florida.

  It was five o’clock on a mid-September afternoon, two hours after closing time and mere seconds before I’d planned to make my exit. Julia, our talented chef, and Harper, my childhood friend and overseer of the dining room, had left around four-thirty.

  For a brief moment, I hoped the visitor would simply vanish. Then I could go upstairs to my cozy apartment and pour the glass of merlot that would uncoil some of the strain from the hectic day.

  Instead, they knocked again.

  And again.

  I pushed myself up from the desk chair, instinctively grabbed my phone and headed for the front entrance of the old Victorian. When I stepped into the foyer, I saw a tall, slim man on the porch preparing to hammer on the door for a fourth time. He looked maybe twenty-five or thirty, with short dark hair, a scruffy beard and mirrored sunglasses perched atop his head. His jeans and down jacket looked new, but the brown leather brogues he was wearing were badly scuffed and nicked.

  “Hang on!” I called, sliding the phone into my back pocket. “We had that glass replaced last month.”

  As I unlocked the door, he stepped forward and held up a flyer. My gaze fixed on two words at the top printed in vivid white ink against a bright red banner: MISSING PERSON.

  “Have you seen this man?” he asked.

  My eyes skipped from the stranger’s face to the photograph on the wrinkled sheet of paper. It showed a man in his early thirties wearing a security guard’s uniform: starched blue shirt, dark necktie and black pants. A gleaming gold badge was pinned to the left side of his chest. His jet-black hair was slicked back with pomade and a neatly-trimmed beard covered his square, muscular jaw. There was a name beneath the picture—THEODORE GREER—along with a physical description and something that sent a twinge of panic through my core: Last seen at Sky High Pies, Crescent Creek, Colorado on September 6.

  “He’s my older brother,” said the stranger on the porch. “I think something bad may have happened to him.”

  I blinked a few times, trying to recall if I’d seen the man in the photograph during the past few days. When I shook my head and began to apologize, the visitor put one hand on the door and pushed gently.

  “I need to come in and ask you some questions,” he said. “My brother was last seen here at your café, so maybe one of your customers knows something.”

  Since I was alone and the stranger seemed fairly agitated, I suggested that we sit in the rocking chairs on the front porch.

  “That’s fine with me.” His voice was raspy and uneven, like someone in need of sleep and a cup of hot tea with honey. “I’ve been walking around town all day, so sitting for a bit will be good.”

  After we settled into side-by-side chairs, I watched as the man clicked through a series of icons on his phone before slipping it back into his pocket.

  “It’s new,” he explained. “I’m not used to…you know, all the tricks and shortcuts.”

  I smiled. “I’ve been there,” I said. “More than once.”

  “But I need to show you something important,” he said. “I’ve got a picture that my brother took here last week before he went missing. It proves that I’m telling the truth.”

  The sudden mention of truth seemed odd, but I attributed it to the stress and weariness that would accompany the disappearance of a family member.

  “I don’t know your name,” I said.

  He frowned slightly. “I didn’t tell you?”

  “Not yet.” I extended my arm. “My name is Kate.”

  Unlike the faltering cadence of his speech, the man’s grip was firm and confident.

  “I’m Rex,” he said as we quickly shook hands. “Rex Greer.”

  I waited for more, but he simply held my gaze and smiled silently.

  “Why do you think that your brother came to Sky High?” I asked.

  He patted his pocket. “Because the picture was taken right here on your porch.” He gestured at the empty rocking chairs along with the potted geraniums, asparagus ferns and jade plants. “I checked the geotag details on the picture and—”

  “Sorry,” I interrupted. “What kind of details?”

  “Geotag,” Rex said again. “Whenever you take a picture with your smartphone, it imbeds a bunch of EFIX data that—”

  “Hang on,” I cut in. “I hate to keep stopping you, but can you translate all of that for me?”

  One corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Sure thing,” he said. “Basically, my brother took a selfie right here and the phone captured the GPS coordinates and put them in the EFIX data.” He paused and the faint grin expanded into a full smile. “I won’t go into what those initials mean, but the data told me exactly where and when Theo took the picture.”

  “Can that information be manipulated?” I asked. “Like by a hacker or something?”

  “Well, yeah. But who’s even looking at the pictures on my brother’s Facebook page?” He raised his eyebrows. “Besides me, of course. That’s how I got the geotag details.”

  “And that single photograph is proof that your brother was here in Crescent Creek?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “And I’d show it to you if I could figure out how to make my new phone work.”

  “Do you want me to see if I can help?”

  “N
o, I’ll figure it out later.” His cheeks flushed red and he diverted his gaze to a spot in the distance. “I’m really good with technology, but not when I’m nervous,” he added, shifting his eyes to the muscular hands pressing against his legs. “The manual is out in the car.”

  I glanced at the nearby parking area. A dark blue two-door sedan with Pennsylvania plates sat at the end of the stone walkway that led from the asphalt to the front steps.

  “Are you nervous now?” I asked.

  He nodded. “A little.”

  “There’s no need,” I said. “I’m just sorry that you’re dealing with…” What? I thought. A missing sibling? A family tragedy? An inexplicable mystery? “…well, that you’re dealing with a difficult situation.”

  He took a deep breath, sat up in the chair and squared his shoulders.

  “That’s okay,” he said. “Mr. Headley believes that real men can conquer any adversity.”

  Since it was the first reference, I asked about Mr. Headley.

  “What do you want to know?” Rex said, knitting his fingers into a rigid knot in his lap.

  “Who is he?” I asked.

  “Someone who’s supposed to help me straighten things out,” Rex replied. “He’s back in Philly.”

  “You came to Colorado from Philadelphia?”

  “Three days ago,” he said. “I have a friend in Denver. I’m staying at his place while I look for my brother.”

  A series of questions rushed forward in my mind. Questions about the stranger beside me. About his uneasy manner. And about the possibility that Sky High somehow played a role in his brother’s disappearance.

  “When was Theodore here?” I asked, deciding that the answer could provide a starting point for the rest of our conversation.

  “He goes by Theo,” Rex answered. “And it was on the sixth at exactly eleven-eighteen in the morning.” A hurried smile appeared briefly. “I remember that from the time stamp on the picture.”

  “The one that he took on our porch?”

  Rex nodded. “Down there,” he said, pointing at the far end of the spotless wooden expanse. “He was sitting in the last chair. And she was walking up behind him.”

  My eyebrows lifted. “She?”

  “Uh-huh. The woman he was meeting here.”

  “Is it someone that lives in Crescent Creek?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.” He scowled and shifted on the seat. “Theo’s note just said that he was meeting someone.”

  “How do you know it was a woman?”

  Rex uncoiled his fingers and sat back in the chair. “Because,” he said. “My brother also mentioned something about ‘she’s late as usual’ in his—”

  A furious electronic squeal suddenly erupted from inside his jacket.

  “I hate this thing!” he yelled as one hand plunged into a side pocket. “I accidentally set the alarm, but I can’t figure out how to turn it off!”

  He pulled out with the bleating phone, holding it aloft as if to prove a point.

  “Do you want—”

  “No!” Rex said firmly. “Mr. Headley believes we should be self-sufficient as much as possible.”

  Without warning, he got to his feet. I quickly followed behind as he headed toward the steps.

  “It’s too loud!” he said, fumbling with a set of car keys. “I need to figure out how to make it stop.”

  While he rushed down the staircase and headed toward the blue sedan, I stayed on the porch.

  “Are you coming back?” I called.

  He abruptly stopped and spun around.

  “Not today,” he said. “But can I send you the picture of my brother?”

  I reached into my pocket for a business card, but realized that I’d given my last one to a customer earlier in the day.

  “Do you want to write down my email address?” I asked.

  Rex smiled. “I already have it,” he said. “I called here yesterday and talked to someone else.”

  “Was it Harper?”

  His smile intensified. “Yes, she’s real nice. She gave me your email because I was originally just going to write you a note. But then my friend said that I could borrow his car and drive up from Denver.”

  “I’m sorry that I can’t be more helpful,” I said.

  “It’s okay.” His shoulders lifted with a timid shrug. “I’ll send you the picture after I figure out how to work the phone. Maybe somebody will remember seeing my brother.”

  “Hopefully,” I said. “But I’ll let you know either way, okay?”

  The grin faded as the alarm on his phone began to ring again.

  “See?” he groaned and hurried toward the parking lot. “It keeps blaring like that for a really long time!”

  I paused on the top step, glancing at the car again and making a mental note of the license plate number.

  “Maybe you could put the phone in your car,” I suggested, starting down the stairs. “Then you can come back and tell me more about your brother.”

  But by the time I’d reached the bottom step, the blue sedan’s engine was roaring to life and the curious encounter ended with screeching tires and a half-hearted wave from the fretful visitor.

  CHAPTER 2

  Julia leaned closer, narrowing her gaze as she yawned.

  “What am I looking at?” she asked.

  I glanced at the photograph, realized that the phone was upside down and quickly corrected the error. It was six-thirty the next morning and we were standing in the middle of the Sky High kitchen. The email from Rex Greer had arrived sometime during the night, and I wanted to check with Julia and Harper to see if they recognized the man in the slightly blurry selfie.

  “His name is Theo Greer,” I explained as Julia studied the picture. “Apparently, he was here last week. His brother seems convinced that Theo’s gone missing, and he wanted to know if anyone remembered seeing him.”

  Julia’s nose crinkled. “Here at Sky High?” she said skeptically. “Or here in Crescent Creek?”

  “All of the above,” I answered. “His brother came by late yesterday afternoon. He told me that Theo took this picture on our front porch. I guess he hasn’t been seen or heard from since that day.”

  Julia reached out, took my wrist and moved the phone closer.

  “He’s kind of handsome,” she said, carefully studying Theo’s self-portrait. “Although he doesn’t look like a happy camper.” Her eyes widened with a smile. “But whoever that is behind him looks amazing in those tights! I tried a similar pair last week at Pearl White’s shop, but they made my thighs look weird.”

  I angled the phone for another look. Theo Greer stared into the camera with a faint frown. His brow was furrowed and there was a hint of malice in his eyes. A woman behind him, visible only from the shoulders down, was dressed in fuchsia leggings, a boxy gray sweatshirt and sapphire running shoes.

  “Pearl sells them at her boutique?” I asked.

  Julia nodded. “She got a bunch of new colors in earlier this month. They’re called Wunder Under Pants.”

  “Come again?”

  She smiled. “Wunder Under Pants. My sister thinks they sound like Depends for Oompa Loompas, but I brought her up to speed. They’re really great for running and yoga.”

  “Okay, now that we’ve got that covered,” I said. “What about the man?”

  She glanced at the picture again and shrugged. “I’ve never seen him before, but I’m sorry to hear that he’s missing.”

  I put the phone in the front pocket of my apron.

  “I don’t know if that’s actually true or not,” I said. “The only thing that I know for certain is that his younger brother is looking for him.”

  “Okay,” she said, stifling another yawn. “And the only thing that I know for sure is that I’m never, ever giving our kids coffee toffee cake again. All three of them were up half the night.”

  “That explains the drowsy expression,” I said. “And the grumpy undercurrent in your voice.”

  “I’m not g
rumpy,” she protested. “I’m exhausted. There’s a big difference, Katie.”

  I reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “If it’s any consolation,” I said, “you look more beautiful today than usual.”

  A warm smile flickered on her face. “That’s sweet. I needed to hear something like that.”

  “Always makes my day better,” I agreed.

  Julia took a step back, skewing her head to the side. “Come to think of it,” she said, “you’re looking pretty glamorous today, too.”

  “I think it’s the new gloss.” I pursed my lips. “It’s called Orchid Yum Yum. What do you think?”

  She carefully analyzed the gloss. “Love the way it looks,” she said. “But I’m not crazy about the name.”

  “I know, but it really is a great shade,” I said. “Not to mention that it was on sale!”

  She smiled, repeated the compliment and then switched back to Theo Greer.

  “Did Harper recognize him?”

  I shook my head. “I haven’t checked yet, but I will.”

  “You should because she’s better at faces,” Julia added. “Plus, her memory still works.”

  “Your memory’s just fine,” I said, giving the Sky High dessert guru a big smile. “Let me go ask Harper, and I’ll be right back to review the prep list.”

  While Julia continued getting ready for the breakfast rush, I went through the swinging door into the dining room.

  “Harper?” I called. “Can I ask you a quick question?”

  She looked up from the napkin dispenser that she was refilling. “You just did,” she teased with a mischievous laugh.

  “You, too?” I grumbled.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Julia seems a little fuzzy this morning,” I answered. “And I didn’t sleep very well either. I was hoping at least one of us would be on our game.”

  She walked over and slumped against the counter. “I made the mistake of turning on the television last night when I couldn’t sleep. One channel had a Friends marathon and the other was running Pretty Woman and Footloose back-to-back.”

  “The original or the remake?” I asked.