by Mary Maxwell
“Maybe he’s not local,” I suggested.
“True. But I did hear something from one of my sources.” She winked and grinned. “They told me that Lacy was involved with a fellow who took her boating a time or two.”
“That’s something I hadn’t heard,” I said. “But I’m not sure—”
“Hold your taters, Katie. I wasn’t finished. They told me that she was seen with a man at Inlet Bay Marina.”
“I don’t know the name,” I said. “Where is it?”
“Horsetooth Reservoir,” Blanche answered. “It’s not a huge operation, but they’ve got reasonable rates. One of my grandsons loves to go there in the summer and rent those jet ski thingies. Although I prefer the party cats whenever the girls and I get away for a weekend.”
“What’s a party cat, Blanche?”
She got up from her chair, grabbed a package of Oreos on the counter and came back to the table.
“A party cat?” she sighed rhetorically. “Well, it’s only the Shangri-La where my second husband and I celebrated our wedding night. After the reception, we drove up to Horsetooth, rented a party cat and sailed out into the middle of the reservoir. He had a buddy who worked at the marina, so we got a little discount. But the best part was, my hubby’s friend let us stay out on the water until morning and I overcame my fear of going down a slide in my birthday suit!”
She blushed. I giggled. And then we shared a warm smile.
“Well, Blanche,” I said. “That sounds romantic. But, I still have a question. A party cat is one of—”
“Yes, yes,” she interrupted. “It’s a double-decker boat with a slide and its own restroom. There’s plenty of room for up to six, or you can simply sail away with the man of your dreams.” She stopped, closed her eyes and hummed softly. “Gosh, but I miss that man! He was such a charmer; witty and smart and always ready with a kind word.”
I’d never met Blanche’s second groom, but I’d heard enough stories from my mother to know that he treated his wife with honor, respect and appreciation.
“You know something, Blanche?”
She hummed a wordless reply and smiled.
“You’re a very lucky woman,” I said. “Finding love is hard enough as it is, but you hit the jackpot more than once!”
“Yes, I did!” She rolled her shoulders and giggled again. “Speaking of which, how’s that mantastic Zack Hutton? You and he still as sweet on each other as when you met?”
I answered the question with a radiant smile and a nod. Then I asked if we could get back to the Lacy Orvane case.
“How can I help, Katie?”
“Well, you know just about everybody in town, so I wanted to pick your brain for another second or two. I mean, if Lacy was involved with a married man who lives in Crescent Creek, it just seems that you might’ve heard something to help identify him.”
She shook her head. “It’s like I told you, Katie. I don’t know much more than he took her boating at Horsetooth Reservoir a few times. And, obviously, he’s got no problem being a weasel behind his wife’s back. Other than that, I don’t think I can help identify either Lacy’s married boyfriend or her killer.”
CHAPTER 27
I was in the Sky High kitchen the next morning concentrating intently on one of Nana Reed’s recipes when someone began ringing the bell in the pass window. The chime was used throughout the day to signal new customer tickets coming in or prepared orders ready to go out. Normally, Harper and Julia tapped lightly on the bell once or twice. But as I peered at my grandmother’s nearly indecipherable squiggles and curlicues down the side of an ancient recipe card, the bell rang. And rang. And rang again.
When I finally lifted my gaze, I saw Dina Kincaid standing on the other side of the pass window.
“Order up!” she called.
“Oh, yeah?” I put down the recipe and walked in her direction.
“Yeah,” she said, grinning brightly. “I want thirty-two Swiss and bacon omelets to go!”
“Over my dead body,” I griped.
“That can be arranged,” she said. “But I think you’re a little too young for the final curtain, Katie.”
I put one hand on my aching lower back. “Is that right? I may be chronologically thirty, but my lumbar region feels like it dates back to the days of covered wagons and stampeding buffalo.”
She laughed and motioned for me to come out into the dining room. When I complied with the request, she was sitting at the counter relaying a carryout order to Harper.
“Make sure you get cash,” I joked to our dining room major domo. “Detective Kincaid’s got a habit of dining and dashing.”
“It’s on Trent’s account,” Harper said. “Muffins and scones for a meeting at the PD.”
“Some folks from Boulder are coming in for a debrief session later in the day,” Dina explained. “I figured they might be more forthcoming if we offered French Roast and some goodies from Sky High.”
“Works around here,” I joked. “Now, what’s up?”
She smiled. “I just wanted to see your gorgeous face, Katie.”
“Oh, really?”
“And to tackle two birds with one stone.”
“Tackle?”
“I hate to say ‘kill two birds,’” she said. “We’re dealing with enough of that as it is these days.”
I nodded. “What’s going on?”
“You tell me,” she said. “You left a message yesterday asking me to call or stop by because you had something for me.”
“Oh, gosh! I’m so sorry. It was a short night, Dina. Can you give me a sec? There’s something in my office that I think will brighten your day.”
“The keys to a new Porsche?” she quipped.
I smiled. “Two sets. Plus the tank’s full and I paid the sales tax.”
While she waited at the counter, I dashed out of the dining room, down the hall and into my office. Three plastic bags sat beside the stack of unpaid invoices. One contained the coffee mug that I’d handed to Daphne Wright during my visit to Home Suite Home the previous day. The second held the Russian nesting dolls from Portia Pearson’s desk. And the third enclosed an empty Twizzler package that I’d found in my car. I grabbed the bags and returned to the dining room, arriving back at Dina’s side as she was signing the credit card slip.
“Thank you, detective!” Harper said before hurrying toward a table of famished retirees.
I put the plastic bags on the counter beside Dina’s purse.
“What’s this?” she asked.
I smiled. “Possibly a key piece of evidence.”
“For the Lacy Orvane case?”
I nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“Are we playing charades, Katie?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m just basking in the potential glow of victory.”
Her eyes looped around. “Oh, please!”
“I’m serious. I was following a hunch. I think these might help crack the case.”
“Really? It looks like a Sky High coffee mug and some of those—”
“Nesting dolls,” I said. “But it’s not the dolls, the mug or the Twizzler package. It’s what’s on them, specifically the fingerprints that you’ll find when you dust them in the lab.”
She looked at the items encased in plastic. Then she looked at me. And then she said, “Is this related to the carryout container we found with the used syringes and vial of cicutoxin?”
“I hope so.”
“Do you want to tell me more?”
“I’d rather not,” I said. “I don’t want to contaminate the evidence.”
She threw back her head and laughed. “I’m afraid it’s a little late for that, Inspector Clouseau.”
“Ah, I loved those movies when I was little. Peter Sellers was so brilliant!”
“We won’t be able to use this, Katie,” she said. “Even if we get a match to the prints on the plastic container found with the cicutoxin.”
“I know. But maybe if you check these thr
ee things and get a match on one, you can bring the person in for questioning. Then you could get another set of their prints while they’re in the police station.”
She considered the suggestion before asking if my approach had involved anything unlawful.
“Well, the undergarments I was wearing at the time didn’t match,” I said. “The bra was MONDAY and the panties were—”
“Stop!” She grabbed the Sky High baked goods and three plastic bags. “It’s way too early in the morning!” She made a face: scrunched lips, creased forehead, horrified eyes. Then she said, “I’ll talk to you after the lab processes these things.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” I said. “If my hunch is right, those fingerprints could help narrow the list of suspects.”
Dina stopped and spun around. “Suspects? As in more than one?”
I shrugged. “Sometimes it takes one bad seed,” I said. “And sometimes it takes a village.”
CHAPTER 28
Julia and I were cleaning the Sky High kitchen that afternoon around three-thirty when someone knocked on the backdoor.
“I thought all of the deliveries had arrived,” Julia muttered, barely glancing up from the sink.
“I’m pretty sure that they did,” I said, leaving my sponge and rubber gloves on the counter near the waffle irons. “Unless that’s Bruce. He said he might come by again if there was time.”
But it wasn’t Bruce Cavanaugh with the extra box of plastic wrap we’d discussed. Instead, it was Ron Blinder, the guy that Lacy Orvane had dated for a couple of years before suddenly dumping him for a wealthy married man. He looked pale and dog-tired, with dark circles under his eyes and a halo of scruffy hair jutting from beneath a paint-spattered ball cap. Ron was a year older, but we were both in debate during high school. I remembered him as a confident, brassy firebrand, not the timid, stooped phantom at the door.
After he stepped inside, I gave him a big hug. “Hey, stranger. How are you?”
His answer was a barely visible nod. “I could’ve called, Kate. But I…” He smiled at Julia when she turned around to greet him. “Hey, Julia. How’s it going?”
“Okay, Ronnie. How are you getting along?”
“You know how it goes.”
Neither of us did, but we both grinned and nodded anyway. Although their relationship had ended, it was common knowledge around Crescent Creek that Ron was still deeply in love with Lacy. She’d shattered his heart and self-esteem by leaving him for the mysterious Mr. X. In a town so small, it was miraculous that Lacy and her married beau had been able to avoid detection for so long. Of course, the fact that she had decided not to reveal his identity to any of her close friends also demonstrated the level of secrecy that Lacy could maintain.
“What can we help you with?” I asked after the brief silence threatened to expand into something awkward.
“I need to…” He reached into his pocket, came out with a scrap of paper and briefly studied a list written in dark ink. “I’d like to send something to Lacy’s parents. Maybe a coffee cake they can serve to all of the people coming for the funeral. Do you think that would be okay?”
When he looked up, I answered with a silent nod. The question demonstrated that he’d decided on a thoughtful gesture, but wasn’t exactly sure how to fulfill it.
“I mean,” Ron continued, “my sister said people usually take casseroles or some other kind of one-dish meal, but…” His shoulders sagged. “Well, I don’t really cook, so I thought about coming by here to get something they might appreciate.”
“A coffee cake would be very nice,” I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Do you want to take one from up front?”
He shook his head. “I don’t really want to go by the house, Katie,” he said as a solitary tear rolled down his right cheek. “It’s just been really hard, you know? Losing Lacy in such a…such a horrible way.”
Julia came over and surrounded him with her slender arms. “I’m so sorry, Ronnie. I know how much…” She didn’t finish the remark; there was no need to. Instead, she stood with him for a moment while I grabbed an order pad from the pass window.
“Okay, so one coffee cake.” I watched as Julia stepped back and brushed his cheek. “Maybe cinnamon streusel?”
He nodded. “Sure, whatever you think.”
“That’s one of our most popular,” I said. “We can deliver it to Lacy’s mom and dad later this afternoon.”
“That would be awesome,” he said, reaching for his wallet.
“No need for that.” I touched his shoulder again. “We know how much she meant to you, Ron. Let us do this for you, okay?”
He blinked and the tears began to flow freely. “She was the love of my life, Katie. I’ve never felt like that…” He wiped at his eyes with the cuff of one sleeve. “Jeez, I’m sorry. I promised myself that I wouldn’t cry.”
“You’re okay,” Julia said quietly. “It’s best to let the grief out.”
He sighed and swallowed hard. “I guess so.”
“I know so,” Julia said. “Just let it happen. And don’t ever apologize to anybody about showing your true emotions.”
“Well, that’s a lot easier said than done.”
“Because you’re a guy?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I guess so. And because we weren’t together anymore. I’m afraid people will think it’s…I don’t know, strange for me to grieve after what Lacy did. But my heart is broken, just plain broken in two.”
I looked at Julia. She was on the verge of tears, biting her lower lip and taking deep, slow breaths.
“Love is love,” I said. “You guys may not be together, but you’ll always feel a special affection for her.”
He smiled, nodded and swept away a few more tears. “I will,” he said. “Always.”
“Do you want to go sit in my office for a bit?” I asked. “I can bring you a cup of coffee or—”
“No, Katie. But thank you. I need to get back to work. I told them I was just running over to do this and it wouldn’t take more than a half hour.”
“Sure thing, Ron. And don’t worry about the coffee cake for Lacy’s folks. We’ll get that over before five this afternoon. Do you want to write a card to go with it?”
He shook his head. “Just tell them it’s from one of her friends. I don’t know how they’d react if they knew it was from me.”
The answer surprised me, but I didn’t want to pursue it with him. He was grieving; there was no need to deepen the pain by satisfying my own curiosity.
“You know the crazy thing about all of this?” Ron said.
Julia smiled, but didn’t speak. She was still nibbling on her lip to keep from crying.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Lacy called me the night before last,” he told us. “She’d accepted a new job with a bank in Omaha. I guess the manager there is someone she knows from college. She said it was going to be a brand-new start, a way to get out from under all the gossip and mistakes she’d made lately. It was a totally spontaneous decision, but she thought it was the best thing for her.”
“She didn’t say a word when I saw her the other day at the bank,” I said.
“She was keeping it secret,” he explained. “She wanted to try one last thing with her…” He gulped and took a moment to steady himself. “…with the guy she’d been seeing,” he continued. “But I don’t really know much more than that. I mean, she said that she’d called me because something bad was going on and she always liked the way I helped calm her down so she could figure things out.”
Julia made a little sound. When I looked over, she’d gone back to the sink. Her shoulders were hunched and she shuddered slightly as she fought to keep from crying. She and Lacy had been close friends for years. The unexpected visit from Lacy’s ex-boyfriend was an emotional curve ball she hadn’t anticipated.
“You know what, Ron?” I said, feeling my eyes dampen.
He smiled.
“Lacy was lucky to have you in her l
ife.”
“I hope so,” he said quietly. “I’m glad we had a chance to talk one last time. It was nice; she actually made me laugh a bunch.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Yeah, we had fun when times were good,” he said. “I’m going to miss her a lot.”
“We all will,” Julia said, still focused on scrubbing the same sauté pan she’d been washing for the past few minutes. “At least, there’ll be one more star shining above at night.”
“Yeah, I’d agree with that,” Ron said. “I just wish the last few weeks of her life had been less difficult.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, falling into PI mode again. “Was something going on?”
He frowned. “Yeah, too much. The fellow she’d been seeing was giving her a real hard time because Lacy wanted him to leave his wife.”
“After a few weeks?” Julia asked, dropping the sponge and spinning around.
Ron heaved a sigh. “It had been going on a lot longer than that, Jules. And for the first month or so, the jerk was actually cheating on his wife with Lacy and another woman here in town. He eventually stopped seeing the other gal, but wouldn’t get a divorce to be with Lacy. The guy’s a real piece of work.”
“Oh, Ronnie,” Julia said. “I had no idea.”
“It’s okay. I’ve made peace with it all. Lacy was a great gal, but she was complicated. She made mistakes. And she told lies. But, no matter what she did or didn’t do, nobody deserves to be treated the way he treated her or…” More tears tumbled down his face. “Or…to be poisoned like that.”
I waited before asking him one final question. He thought for a few seconds and then repeated it rhetorically.
“What else was going on in her life?” he said. “Well, there was the married guy. And somebody at the bank was giving her a hard time about nearly everything she did. And there were problems at the community theater.”
