Death Before Diamonds (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 10) by Mary Maxwell Page A

much more that I can
do at this point.”
    Julia snickered. “At this point?”
    “What?” I said. “I told him that Harper
remembered seeing his brother. And I promised to give him a call if anyone else
remarks about the poster that he left on the bulletin board in the entryway.”
    She crossed her arms and eyed me
warily. “Come on , Katie!” Her glib tone was shaded with doubt and
cynicism. “I can practically hear the gears grinding in your brain. You
love that stuff—mysteries, cold cases, unsolved crimes and all the rest.”
    “Lots of people do.”
    “But how many of them actually get
involved in consulting with the local police to help crack cases?”
    I scowled at her playfully. “Plenty,”
I said. “Do you think that I’m the only former PI in the world who still enjoys
solving crimes or working out the details of an intricate case?”
    “You’re the only one that I know,”
she said as Harper rang the bell in the pass window.
    “Hey!” she called. “Anybody working
back there or do I have to cook Mrs. Avery’s short stack myself?”
    Julia put down her coffee and started
around the island.
    “Hold your horses,” she called to
Harper. “I saw her come in the door just now. I’ll have those pancakes up before
you’ve even poured her tomato juice!”
    They both went back to work as I
continued combining ingredients for the chewy brown sugar cookies that Dina
Kincaid had ordered. Besides being a friend from childhood, Dina was the lead
detective for the Crescent Creek Police Department. She, Trent and I had ended
up in a high school love triangle, something that was horribly wrenching back
then because Trent dumped me for Dina. But when they later married and
divorced, I felt vindicated. And the truly ironic aspect of the equation was
the fact that Trent also worked for the CCPD as Deputy Chief.
    As I scooped cornstarch for the
cookies from a small plastic container, I smiled and thought about the long ago
broken heart and how it had mended nicely over time. Of course, my current
romance with Zack Hutton, a photographer for the local newspaper, had surpassed
even the wildest dreams that I’d harbored all those years ago in school.
    “What are you sneering about?”
Julia asked as I blended the wet and dry ingredients in the big stoneware bowl.
    “Am I sneering?”
    She made a face. “Oh, for sure! And
I’ve seen that look before, Katie.”
    “Yeah? What does it mean?”
    Julia answered my question with a skittering
laugh. Then she said, “It’s the silly grin you usually get about a minute
before Zack walks in the door.”
    I knew that she was right, but I
was in a mischievous mood. I’d slept well the night before. It was too early in
the day for my lower back to be screaming in agony from hours on my feet. And
I’d ingested just the right amount of caffeine to invigorate all of my bits and
pieces from head to toe.
    “Well, I don’t know about that,” I
joked, giving Julia an exaggerated wink. “But I’ll take a look in the mirror
this evening around seven.”
    She giggled again. “Are you guys
going out tonight?”
    “No, he’s cooking at his place,” I
answered. “Lamb chops with a port wine-cherry glaze and hasselback potatoes.”
    Julia frowned. “Hasselhoff what?”
    “Hassel back ,” I said,
remembering her deep affection for the old Baywatch series. “David
Hasselhoff has nothing to do with this. Zack makes them all the time, and
they’re delicious! He takes Yukon Gold spuds, cuts them almost all the way
through in slender slices like an accordion and then drenches them in butter.
Then he bakes them until they’re crispy on the outer edges and creamy smooth
inside.”
    “Oh, those do sound good,” she
said, flipping Mrs. Avery’s pancakes on the grill. “But you know how I feel
about The Hoff. I thought I heard his name.”
    “Uh-huh,” I said. “And if Zack ever
fixes something for me that was inspired by your beloved Hoff, you’ll be the
first to