Sixty Minutes for Murder

by Mary Maxwell

  “Wait,” I said. “Before you continue, if you think that it might be connected to the case, you’re right about telling someone from the CCPD directly.”

  “Yeah, I will,” he said. “As soon as you and I finish, I’ll give them a call. But it’s not like the rumors aren’t already bouncing around town.”

  “Rumors?”

  “I’m talking about a guy named Kanter,” Tony went on. “Frank Kanter. Wendy’s company has its office in one of the buildings the guy owns.”

  I nodded. “The Sagebrush Lofts,” I said. “Over on Kellogg and Weston.”

  “That’s the one. Anyway, when I was talking to Wendy about the guy a couple of weeks ago, she got all serious and sort of…well, sort of mysterious. She never spelled it out in our conversation, but the email hinted at it.”

  “At what, Mr. Pappalardo?”

  “Blackmail,” he said. “It was almost like Wendy wanted to confess. Between our conversation and the email, she made it pretty obvious that she’d learned Frank Kanter was doing something shady related to structural engineering reports and his real estate development business. I have no idea what that might’ve been. But Wendy definitely knew. And a couple of the cryptic remarks that she made in the note pointed toward some kind of arrangement that she’d made with Kanter. She wouldn’t tell anyone about his shady deals, and he’d give her a cut of the profits.”

  “Did Wendy say that specifically in her email?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Like I said, she was pretty cryptic. And it wasn’t so much what Wendy said when we had the chat about Kanter. It was how she said it. We were talking about our industry and running a small company in this type of market. Wendy said that she’d initially been very concerned about Gordon Janitorial coming to Crescent Creek, but she’d recently enjoyed some type of financial windfall that made her less anxious about maybe losing one or two accounts to us.”

  “A windfall?”

  He nodded. “Strange thing to tell me, don’t you think?”

  I shrugged. “Actually, maybe it was a sort of defense mechanism,” I said. “Her way of telling you that she wasn’t as worried about the big fish coming into the pond.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Tony said. “It struck me as part bragging, part bluster. I would never in a million years claim to really know Wendy Barr, but we talked enough times for me to get a sense that she wasn’t referring to suddenly inheriting a million bucks from a long lost relative.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite,” I said. “What do you think she meant?”

  Tony smiled. “I wouldn’t even hazard a guess,” he said. “But Wendy’s demeanor and tone of voice that day suggested that she was feeling pretty confident that her recent windfall wasn’t a one-time deal.”

  “Is this related to blackmail?”

  “Here’s the thing,” Tony said, skipping past my question. “Wendy never told me what, when, who or why. But she did sort of suggest how she came into such good fortune. I think that it involved something called Gallagher Holdings. The last time that we met for coffee, she stepped away from the table to take a call. When she came back a few minutes later, I saw a text that came in on her phone. It referenced Gallagher Holdings and thanked her for returning the person’s call.”

  “Did you see who the text was from?” I asked.

  He shook his head.

  “Then why do you believe it had something to do with blackmail and Wendy’s hints about a windfall?”

  “Because she said as much,” he answered. “When she sat down at the table after talking on the phone she said something like, ‘That guy is going to solve all of my cash flow problems for the next hundred years.’ It seemed like such a strange thing to say, but she moved right back to our conversation about working together in the future so I let it go.”

  “Hold on,” I said. “You and Wendy were going to work together?”

  “A sort of joint venture,” he said. “Part of Gordon’s success is collaborating with existing competitors who are open to the idea of partnerships. It’s not franchising, but it’s a way we combine forces with smaller companies so it doesn’t look like we have a black heart.”

  He chuckled. “You know, so we don’t seem like money hungry vultures with deeper pockets and bigger buying power.”

  “Sure, that sounds like it might work for some folks,” I said. “Did Wendy seem open to the idea?”

  “Hard to say,” Tony replied. “She never really answered my questions about it. And now I’ll never get a chance to find out.”

  CHAPTER 24

  As soon as I got back in the car after leaving Tony Pappalardo’s office, I dialed Detective Kincaid. She answered on the first ring, but announced that she was walking out the door and didn’t have much time.

  “Neither do I,” I told her. “I’m finally on my way back to Sky High. There are many things to bake before I sleep.”

  “Well, I’d rather be making cookies than talking to Wendy Barr’s parents,” Dina said. “They’re coming to the station for an update on our investigation.”

  “Has anything developed since our last conversation?”

  She sighed. “Unfortunately, not one dang thing. Although Tyler’s going over Wendy’s cell phone records, so they may yield something helpful.”

  “I just talked to Tony Pappalardo,” I said. “Did you read Tyler’s notes from their chat?”

  “He’s the guy with Gordon Janitorial?” she asked.

  “That’s the one,” I replied. “He told me a couple of interesting things just now.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well, he and Wendy met for coffee late last week,” I explained. “Based on her cryptic remarks as well as a mysterious phone call and text that she received while they were together that day, Pappalardo suspects Wendy was blackmailing someone.”

  “Blackmail?” Dina’s voice squeaked with surprise. “Wendy Barr?”

  “That’s what Tony thinks,” I said. “He also mentioned something called Gallagher Holdings. Have you heard that name before?”

  “Never,” Dina replied. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know yet,” I said. “I’ll Google it later. I’d love to do it as soon as I get back, but I need to finish the Sky High checklist first.”

  “Of course, Katie,” she said. “I know that. When you do get a chance to check into it, please let me know what you find. I’ll also make a note to do the same after I get back to my office.”

  CHAPTER 25

  When Zack walked into my apartment that night at seven, he was carrying a bottle of wine, the familiar blue plastic bags used by our favorite barbecue place and a box of Godiva truffles wrapped with a bright pink ribbon.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” I said, looking up from the laptop. “What’s with all the loot?”

  He carried the goodies into the kitchen and arranged them on the counter. Then he came back to the living room and sat beside me on the sofa.

  “The barbecue is for dinner,” he said. “I picked up the wine on the way over. And Nadia regifted the truffles because she isn’t into chocolate.”

  My mouth fell open. “Can you repeat that last part, please?”

  He laughed, leaned in and kissed me. “I know it seems completely foreign, but not everybody has a sweet tooth.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” I said. “But the large box of Godiva runs around fifty or sixty bucks.”

  Zack flopped back into the cushions. “What can I say? She’s a kind and generous person.”

  “Looks like it,” I said. “Should we have a truffle or two before we eat the barbecue?”

  “Whatever you’re in the mood for,” he replied. “I’m so tired that I’ll be grateful for a glass of wine, some type of nourishment and—”

  I put my hand over his mouth. “And the love of a good woman?”

  He nodded. “But not necessarily in that order,” he added when I lowered my arm. “Do you want to put the computer away and eat?”

  “After I
finish one last search,” I said. “I’ve been burning through a list of questions that I made earlier, but there’s one more thing that I want to check on.”

  “You’re amazing, Katie. Not only did you put in a full day at Sky High, but you’re doing double duty to help Dina with the case.”

  “It’s nothing,” I said. “I wanted to do some online research about Wendy’s company along with Frank Kanter’s business and Gallagher Holdings.”

  “What was the last one?” he asked.

  “Something called Gallagher Holdings.”

  “Okay,” Zack said, getting up from the sofa. “I’ll unpack the barbecue and sample the wine while you do that.”

  “Deal,” I said, going back to the computer. “I’ll type fast and hope for fruitful returns on my first attempt.”

  While Zack went to work in the kitchen, I Googled Gallagher Holdings, Crescent Creek and Wendy Barr. The initial results were a mishmash of articles about Silver Spur Cleaning, a local high school athlete named Teddy Gallagher and public notices for real estate transactions all across the country.

  “How’s it going?” Zack called as I squinted at the screen. “Ready for a salted almond or strawberry crème truffle?”

  I shifted my gaze from the Google search results to the tall hunk standing in the kitchen doorway. He was holding one Godiva treat in each hand.

  “I’m good for now,” I said. “But help yourself.”

  He raised his eyebrows and popped one of the sweet treats into his mouth. While he murmured with delight, I returned to the laptop. After scrolling through a half dozen of the real estate records, I was nearly ready to call it a night when two names jumped off the screen. They were listed as owners of record for a parcel of land in Fullerton, California.

  “Holy smokes!” I said excitedly. “Gallagher Holdings, meet Frank Kanter. And Frank Kanter, meet Gallagher Holdings.”

  “What was that?” Zack called from the kitchen.

  “I found something,” I said.

  He walked into the living room, came over to the sofa and sat down again. I detected a pleasant combination of chocolate and red wine on his breath when he leaned in to kiss my cheek.

  “I hope it’s a good something,” he said, glancing at the public notice for the land in California. “Can you tell if it’s related to Wendy’s murder?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet,” I said. “But I have a hunch that it’s definitely connected in some way.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Around nine the next morning, as I carried a rack of clean water glasses into the dining room, I spotted Lindy Showalter sitting alone at a table near the front windows. She was sipping a cup of coffee as she swiped idly at her phone. Harper had mentioned that Lindy was waiting for someone, so I walked over as soon as I’d stowed the fresh glassware to greet her before the other guest arrived.

  “Good morning!” I said as soon as she looked up. “How are you?”

  She grinned before sighing gleefully. “Couldn’t be better, Katie! I have the day off. Dave is at a work conference. And the kids are spending the weekend with their grandparents.”

  “Va-va-va-voom!” I held up my hand for a high five. “Nobody deserves it more than you, sister!”

  Her pale lavender eyes rolled back in her head. “Thank you for saying that. I keep having bouts of guilt, like I should be home mopping the floor and doing another load of laundry and trying to figure out where the kids hid my clean panties.”

  I smiled. “Your panties?”

  “They think it’s hilarious to hide mommy’s underwear after she’s folded the laundry,” Lindy explained. “We go through this at least once a week.”

  “Well, I hope it turns up soon.”

  She laughed. “I’ll look tonight when I get home. After breakfast here with Abby Dalton, we’re going to the Spa at Crescent Creek Lodge for massages, facials and manicures. Then we’re driving into Denver to see a movie and have dinner. Her husband’s in Portland for work, so we’re enjoying a girls’ weekend.”

  “I’m so jealous,” I said. “But it’s good to see you relaxed and happy.”

  She snickered again. “I feel totally calm for the first time in forever. Work’s been super stressful. But now that I’ve finished a huge project that took six months, I’m going to make the most of the next two days.”

  “Well, like I said, nobody deserves it more.”

  “Thanks, Katie. How’ve you been lately?”

  “Busy here, busy everywhere,” I said. “I’m actually working on something with Dina Kincaid from the Crescent Creek PD. It’s keeping me running after we close for the day, but I love to help out.”

  Lindy’s face suddenly darkened. “It’s about Wendy, right?”

  I nodded. “Yes,” I said. “Word gets around, I guess.”

  “I heard about it from my neighbor,” she said. “And I think it’s just great! You can use all of that experience from when you worked as a private detective to help find the lowlife that killed Wendy.”

  “I hope so,” I replied.

  “Are there any suspects yet?” she asked. “Like, maybe the fellow that works part-time for Sharon Ruiz?”

  “You’re talking about Barry Thornhill?”

  She looked around to see if anyone was nearby. Then she said, “I heard that he was in the office that afternoon.”

  “Who told you?”

  “A friend who works in the Sagebrush Lofts,” Lindy answered. “I guess she went to work on Sunday after church to return Frank Kanter’s truck. When she was leaving about four o’clock, Barry Thornhill was in the parking lot near the candle company vans.”

  “Hold on a sec,” I said. “Your friend told you that she was returning Frank’s truck?”

  Lindy smiled. “Miss Moneypenny just closed on a new house. She borrowed the pickup to move a few final boxes and things from her old apartment while Frank was out of town.”

  “Miss Moneypenny?” I laughed. “That’s a new one. I didn’t know you were a James Bond fan.”

  “I’m not really,” Lindy said. “But Dave loves that type of movie, so I’ve seen most of them. When I found out where my friend was moving, I thought Miss Moneypenny was the perfect nickname for her.”

  “Where’s the new house?”

  “Do you know that gated community on Chatham Street?” she asked. “The one with the windmill by the entrance?”

  “Wow! Those are nice! We did a catering job for one of the homeowners there.”

  “Oh, so you’ve seen Shangri-La?” Lindy giggled. “That’s what I call it. There are houses out there that cost, like, two- and three-million dollars.”

  “They’re fancy alright,” I agreed. “I didn’t realize that my friend had moved out there.”

  Lindy nodded. “She hasn’t told that many people. It’s such a huge step up from her little one-bedroom apartment that I think she’s kind of embarrassed. I told her to get over it. If you hit it big in Vegas and win a jackpot, why act like you’re ashamed?”

  “What was that about a jackpot?”

  “That’s how my friend told me that she was able to afford the house,” Lindy explained. “I guess that she went to Las Vegas with some girlfriends earlier in the year. The very last thing that she did before leaving the hotel was stop in the casino and play the slots. And can you believe it! She hit some huge bonanza! Why can’t you or I have that kind of luck?”

  “That’s amazing!”

  Lindy shrugged. “It’s actually nice to see good things happening for her. She’s been such a mousy little thing all her life that it probably feels weird to have money and move to a fancy house.”

  As I started to ask another follow-up question, Lindy let out a whoop and jumped from her chair.

  “Hey!” she called toward the entryway. “You look hot, pretty mama!”

  I turned around and saw Abby Dalton walking toward us. She was wearing a bright pink sweater, skinny jeans and white sneakers. When she reached the table, she gave Lindy a big hug.
r />   “Have you all met?” asked Lindy.

  I shook my head. “Hi, Abby,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’m Kate Reed. Welcome to Sky High Pies.”

  “Thank you!” she said. “Lindy’s told me all about this place! I cannot wait to try the chocolate chip scones.”

  “Well, you’re in luck!” I said. “Julia made a fresh batch this morning.”

  “That’s awesome!” Abby said. “A few of those, a cappuccino and I’ll be happy as a clam!”

  CHAPTER 27

  Frank Kanter was waiting for me in Java & Juice when I arrived around four that afternoon. He was dressed in faded jeans, cowboy boots and a fleece turtleneck. He cradled a steaming coffee with both hands, idly tapping one index finger against the white paper cup every few seconds.

  “Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” I said, sliding into the chair across from him. “It’s easier to talk about some subjects in person rather than over the phone.”

  “Is it really?” His voice was coiled and taunting, the unambiguous sound of irritation and impatience. “I’m doing this as a courtesy, Miss Reed. When I got your message last night, I almost deleted it without a second thought. But my daughter’s been leaning on me to lighten up. When I turned fifty last year, she made a big deal about the second half of my life being less stressful than the first.”

  I smiled. “That sounds like good advice for any age.”

  He pointed at his coffee. “You want one?”

  “I’m good for the moment,” I replied. “I may get a smoothie in a second.”