A Zest for Murder (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 5) Read Online Free PDF

neighbor, I remembered Blanche Speltzer’s comments from the night
before.
    “I think he was with the DEA,” I
said.
    “Right,” Trent agreed. “He was a
field agent out of Denver until about a year ago.”
    “Do you think he had something to
do with…” I glanced at the front of Tipper’s house. “I mean, why are you asking
me about him?”
    “Following a lead, Katie.”
    “Involving Kyle Gallagher?”
    “We found his wallet in the hallway
a few feet from the shooting victim,” Trent answered. “And we’re waiting to see
if he’s a match for the prints on the backdoor.”
    A series of scattershot images
flashed through my mind: blood on the brass handle, smudged fingerprints,
bleached jeans, a widening crimson pool on the white kitchen floor.
    “Maybe he and Tipper were
abducted,” I suggested.
    Trent pursed his lips. “Maybe.”
    “What else?” I asked.
    “Do you know what Tipper drove?”
    “A black BMW,” I answered, suddenly
realizing that the car was no longer parked near the garage. “And I’m guessing
that Kyle drives the old pickup that Zack and I saw last night in the
driveway.”
    Trent shook his head. “Not
according to the DMV. They’ve got Gallagher as the owner of a Jeep Grand
Cherokee.” He tapped his ballpoint against the steering wheel. “The very same
one that’s in Tipper’s garage right now along with a Ford F-150 bearing New
Mexico plates.”

CHAPTER
8
     
     
    The air hummed with tension as my
imagination skittered in every direction at once. Tipper had been kidnapped.
Her car was missing. A woman had been shot in her kitchen and —
    “Katie?” Trent sounded faraway and
hazy. “You still with me?”
    I nodded, but the questions and
fractured images kept coming. Who was the woman in the kitchen? Blood on the
doorknob. Was Tipper already dead? More blood on the white tile floor. Where
was Kyle Gallagher? Did he do this? Tipper’s face last night as she was leaving
Sky High: happy, flighty, beautiful, animated.
    “…whether or not he did,” Trent was
saying as I pushed aside the frantic questions. “I left a message for my buddy
Pete Swann at the DEA. Did you ever meet him?”
    I shook my head.
    “Well, you’ll like him if you do,”
Trent continued. “Funny as hell. He’s got a really sweet wife, too. Becky.
Bonnie. Something like that. Cute blonde with—”
    “Tipper’s BMW?” I asked.
    Trent nodded. “Gone. I’ve got a
BOLO out, of course. Freddy Morrow’s checking security cameras around town. And
a couple of houses down the block have them, too. We’re talking to those
neighbors as we speak to see if they captured anything useful.”
    I swiveled in the seat to get a
clear view of the driveway. The spot where I’d seen Tipper’s car earlier was
now occupied by a Crescent Creek PD patrol car.
    “The BMW was right over there,” I
said.
    “When?”
    “When I arrived. Last night, it was
parked behind the F-150. And this afternoon, like, literally when I got
here, it was right there.” I glanced back at the driveway again. “So, between
the time that I went around back and when the first responders arrived, someone
drove away in Tipper’s car.”
    Trent pursed his lips. “Maybe it
was her.”
    The suggestion seemed absurd, so I
told him as much.
    “Is that right?” His voice bristled
slightly. “You think it’s ridiculous?”
    I nodded. “Yes, I do. Why on earth
would Tipper drive away when my car...” I stopped, reconsidering the scenario.
“That’s not even the point, Trent. Why would Tipper leave if someone had been
shot in her kitchen?”
    He shrugged.
    “And how’d that happen anyway?” My
pulse began to spiral again as I thought about the woman that I’d discovered
earlier. “Tipper doesn’t own a gun. She and I had that conversation a few weeks
ago after there was another school shooting.”
    Trent held my gaze before reaching
over and taking my hand. “Katie? Do you want me to have someone drive you
home?”
    I shook my