Free Deadly Desserts (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 6) by Mary Maxwell Page A

day to buy the same thing for lunch—a peanut
butter and jelly sandwich.”
    “Do you think it’s a smoking gun?”
I asked. “All tied up with a pretty bow.”
    She shrugged. “Either than or a
diversion. We ran the prints, but they’re not in the system.”
    “Seems pretty tidy, doesn’t it?” I said.
“Craig’s initials, yesterday’s date, the carryout container from a place across
the street from the bank.”
    “Like I said, a diversion,” Dina
repeated. “Or a really clumsy murderer.”
    We locked eyes for a moment; we’d
both seen our share of inept criminals who think they’ve covered their tracks
while leaving a trail of breadcrumbs right back to their doorstep.
    “What about the deposit slip?” I
said. “Was it blank or had it been used?”
    “The front was blank,” Dina said.
“But Daphne Wright’s phone number was written on the back along with a note
that said: ‘Call her at noon; deliver the message.’”
    “That’s interesting. Did you ask
her about it?”
    Dina nodded. “She told me that her
desk phone rang yesterday morning just as the delivery van left. She hurried
back to answer it, but the caller hung up just as she said hello.”
    “And that’s why she forgot to lock
the backdoor to the furniture store?”
    “Possibly,” Dina said with a shrug.
“I didn’t get very far with her. She feels guilty that the person who poisoned
Lacy probably came in through the unlocked door. I had a few more questions,
but the poor thing started sobbing so hysterically that I told her we’d try
again tomorrow.”
    “Sounds reasonable. Daphne’s not
Einstein or anything, but she’s a real sweetheart. I can’t see her being
involved in this.”
    “I’d have to agree,” Dina said.
“But we need to cover all the angles.”
    “Sure, of course. What about the
security cameras in the alley? Anything helpful?”
    “There’s a good chance we have
footage of a possible suspect,” she answered. “He’s carrying a paper bag when
he slips into the store through the delivery door a couple of hours before Lacy
was poisoned. It coincides with the period of time that the entrance was left
unlocked.”
    “What’s the description?” I asked.
    She answered with a succinct
report: baseball cap, jacket with a sailboat emblem on the front, handlebar
mustache, gold pinky ring and sunglasses.
    “Sounds fairly distinctive,” I
suggested.
    “I suppose…well, maybe. We’ve got a
BOLO out with that description. Nothing so far.”
    “The day is young,” I said
optimistically.
    “Wish I was,” she grumbled.
    “Oh, c’mon, detective. You’re only
as old as you feel.”
    She groaned and sighed. “Well, at
this moment, I feel two-hundred and five,” she said. “Give or take a decade or
two.”

CHAPTER
17
     
     
    The green neon sign in the window
at Drake’s Deli blinked OPEN TIL MID IGHT! as I turned the corner at
Sawyer and Crestwood. The sandwich shop was a Crescent Creek institution.
Anyone with late night munchies knew that Colin Drake’s outpost would still be
a bright beacon in the darkness long after the other restaurants and fast food
places had closed.
    “Hey, Colin,” I called, pushing
through the front door. “Your sign’s missing a letter there, buddy.”
    The tall, middle-aged beanpole
behind the counter chuckled deeply. “Thanks, Katie! That’s the ten millionth time
I’ve heard that this week alone. I called Acme Signs to fix it, but you know
how Dewey is.”
    I smiled; Dewey Wabash was an
amazing guy, but his work speed ran the gamut from dawdling to sluggish.
Luckily, he was a charmer with a ready grin, an honest face and the ability to
make you laugh so hard that you forgot it had taken him three weeks to finish a
two-day job. Since his father had made the very first Sky High Pies sign for
Nana Reed, I felt a deep loyalty to Dewey and trusted him to make our banners
and posters. He was also one of the few tradesmen in town who could work with
Angus Martin, the