Free A Zest for Murder (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 5) by Mary Maxwell

times in the past for me to know it was a lose-lose situation.
    “Okay, then,” I said. “Have a
good—oh, shoot! Mom? I wanted to ask you if Dell and Hannah were still in the
area.”
    “What?”
    I repeated the question. “Well, of
course,” she said. “They sold the house on Hanover and bought a cute little
townhouse on University Place. It’s right over there by the tennis courts that
the mayor wanted to turn into a parking lot.”
    “Okay, thanks!” I said. “I could’ve
found out by asking Blanche Speltzer, but I thought it would be more fun to
call you.”
    “That’s sweet,” my mother said.
“Why’d you want to know if the Flanagans were still in Crescent Creek?”
    “It’s a long story. Probably best
to tell you another time. I don’t want to keep you and dad from the unlimited
breadsticks.”
    She giggled. “Good point,
sweetheart. I’m so glad we had a chance to talk, even if it was only for a
moment.”
    “Me, too. I love you, mom.”
    “I love you more,” she said. “Now,
forever and always!”

CHAPTER
17
     
     
    The tennis courts on University
Place were blanketed with snow from the storm that had moved through the area
during the night. A woman and two toddlers were making angels in the blanket of
downy white flakes as I drove by on my way to see Dell and Hannah Flanagan. It
was a hunch. And maybe a long shot. But I wanted to ask if they’d heard from
their son Dermot lately.
    I parked in front of the two-story
townhouse, walked up the curving brick pathway and knocked on the door. Two
brightly-colored garden gnomes stood beside the entrance, glaring at me with
creepy yellow-orange eyes. One had a small hand-lettered sign around its neck: Go
away if you don’t like happiness! I was smiling at the tiny statues when I
noticed a small dot of blue on the ground next to the pair. As I leaned down
for a closer look, the door suddenly opened. A short woman with curly gray hair
stood in the entry vestibule. She was dressed in a plaid flannel shirt, faded
jeans and heavy wool socks.
    “Yes?” Her voice was soft and her
eyes twinkled above the reading glasses at the tip of her nose. “Can I help
you?”
    “Are you Mrs. Flanagan?”
    “That’s what they tell me,” she quipped
with a slight roll of her shoulders. “Are you with the neighborhood watch
group?”
    I shook my head. “No, ma’am. My
name is Kate Reed. You and my mother were friends when—”
    Before I could finish, she clapped
her hands and motioned for me to come inside. “Oh, my word! Is it really you,
Muffin? Audrey and Darren’s little girl all grown up?”
    I winced at the childhood
nickname—something my brother had started when he was a toddler—and stepped
into the entryway.
    “Oh, Katie! You are so pretty now!” She squeezed my chin between one thumb and forefinger, turning my
head from side to side. “I mean, c’mon! I’d kill for that complexion!”
    “Thank you, Mrs. Flanagan.”
    “You know,” she said, lowering her
hand and taking one step back, “I think the last time I saw you was the
farewell party that your parents had at Sky High before you moved to Chicago.
Do you remember that? All of the tables in the dining room pushed to one side
so everybody could dance and kick up their heels?”
    I nodded. “I do remember that
night. It’s one of my favorite memories from back then.”
    “And your brother!” She snickered
and removed the reading glasses. “That little Brody was a firecracker! He got a
couple of beers from some of the older kids, got himself drunk and proceeded to
vomit all over the—”
    “Yes, I remember that, too!” I
interrupted, hoping not to rekindle any more unsettling mental images of my
younger brother’s handiwork on the desk in the Sky High office. It had taken my
father a good four hours to clean up the mess and freshen the air enough to
make the room habitable again.
    “Well, how are you, Muffin? And
how’s everyone else in the Reed family these