Chapter 33

After leaving K9 Kutz, Jaye drove straight to Cravings! to update her friend in person. The phone wouldn’t do for news this momentous. She wanted to see Sierra’s face when she told her there was a good chance she’d found the killer. When Jaye arrived, Sierra was getting ready to close up for the night.

“We did it! I can’t believe we actually did it!” Sierra screamed when Jaye told her. “Out of all our suspects, I thought Quinn was the least likely to have killed Peggy,” she said once she’d calmed down enough to think about it.

“He was at the bottom of my list too,” Jaye said. Her initial enthusiasm had faded on the drive back to Sedona. After leaving K9 Kutz, she’d been euphoric, riding a fabulous high of success and relief, but the more she thought about Quinn being the killer, the more doubts had started to creep in. And yet he was the only one they’d found so far who’d been in a perfect position to gather a crop of white dog fur from a number of different breeds with no one being the wiser. For that matter it was entirely possible he’d planned the fall in order to pick up the fur.

“I know he wanted to expand his restaurant,” she said, struggling to fit the last pieces into the puzzle, “but that alone is hardly a reason to kill someone.”

“What about the gambling?” Sierra asked. “Maybe he owes someone who’s threatening to hurt him or Luisa. If he doubles the restaurant’s seating capacity, he’d probably double his revenues.”

“We’re not even sure he’s a gambler. What Daniel overheard might have just been Quinn trying to sound like a big shot.”

“I guess this means we’re back to canvassing the rest of the places on our lists,” Sierra said glumly.

“Not so fast,” Jaye said, a plan starting to coalesce in her mind. “We really can’t afford to let a lead like this go. We just need to find out the whole story about Quinn.”

“I assume you have an idea how to go about it?”

“By going straight to the one person who knows if Quinn’s a murderer or not.”

Sierra’s eyebrows bunched together. “You mean drop in for a chat with him and during the course of conversation inquire politely if he murdered Peggy? I’m pretty sure a killer wouldn’t have any qualms about adding ‘liar’ to his résumé.”

“We wouldn’t ask him,” Jaye replied. “We’d accuse him. If we put his feet to the fire, we might catch him off guard. Without time to think, he might inadvertently give himself away.”

***

They met at Sierra’s house the next evening to finalize their plan. Jaye hadn’t been there recently, and Frosty was thrilled to see her. He did a little jig around her and jumped into her lap the moment she made it available by sitting on one of the kitchen chairs. Although the chair was narrow, Frosty didn’t seem to mind the challenge. He curled himself into as tight a ball as he could, looking like a furry serpent eating its own tail. Every few seconds a front or rear paw would slip off her lap and dangle beside the chair, but Jaye managed to help keep the majority of his limbs together.

“Is Daniel on board with us?” Sierra asked, setting a plate of her new oatmeal, raisin, coconut, walnut, chocolate chip cookies on the table. “These are Ruth’s new favorite, but even she can’t eat more than two a day.”

Jaye reached for one and almost lost Frosty in the process. After she’d restored their equilibrium, she broke off a chocolate-free piece of cookie and offered it to him by way of apology.

“You did speak to Daniel?” Sierra rephrased the question, since Jaye hadn’t answered her the first time.

“Yes, of course,” she mumbled around a mouthful of cookie. “He’s getting a police-grade wire for me to wear.”

“So much better than trying to use my old tape recorder from high school,” Sierra said. “If Quinn confesses or incriminates himself in any way, we’ll have it for the police.” She laughed. “I guess it sometimes pays to have friends in low places.”

“Plus, this way Daniel can be parked outside and still monitor what’s happening inside. It was actually the only way I could convince him to let us go in alone. And I had to agree to use a safe phrase in case things go bad and we need help.”

Sierra shrugged. “I can live with that if it means we go in unescorted. You’re right about Quinn being more likely to let down his guard when he’s just talking to a couple of young women.”

“I wish I could think of a way to keep Luisa out of the equation though,” Jaye murmured.

“That’s a tough one. She and Quinn almost always drive to the restaurant together.”

“I know. If we have to work around her, it’s sure going to put a crimp in our style.”

“It might be harder,” Sierra said with the trademark twinkle back in her eyes, “but nothing could ever put a crimp in our style.”

***

Jaye arrived at the bakery at nine the next morning. She’d stopped first at Starbucks to buy coffee for Sierra and herself and a chai for Ruth. She was disappointed, but not in the least surprised, to hear that Luisa had already been in to buy her daily treats. So much for talking to Quinn alone.

While Sierra wrapped up her baking, she and Jaye spent an hour exchanging ideas on how they should direct the conversation with Quinn. They’d both been awake most of the night obsessing about the confrontation. Should they be immediate and harsh with their accusation or lull him into letting down his guard with a display of camaraderie? The more genteel method won out.

“Any ideas about how we get in the door?” Jaye asked. “There’s no way he’s going to let us in if he has the slightest inkling about our real mission.”

Sierra popped the last tray of blondies into the oven. “I could say I stopped by to discuss having them cater a party. Or I could ask if they’d like to carry a line of my baked goods to supplement their other desserts, which, by the way, have never been inspired. Of course, I’d leave out that last part.”

“You choose—either one would definitely get us through the door,” Jaye said, raising her coffee cup. “Here’s to us!”

Sierra picked up her cup and tapped it gently against Jaye’s so none of the coffee would slosh out. “And to our success!”

Before last-minute doubts could undermine their enthusiasm, Sierra asked Ruth to take the blondies out when the timer rang, and then she and Jaye marched out of the bakery and across the street. Daniel’s Jeep was already parked outside the restaurant, but when Jaye gave it a cursory glance, she didn’t see his silhouette behind the wheel. Probably just the combination of the sun’s glare and the tinted windows. She didn’t want to draw attention to the SUV, so she kept on walking. The only other vehicles in the area were the Finnegans’ blue Honda sedan and a white panel van with the name “Lightning Electrical” in bold lettering on its sides. The van was parked a block down from the Jeep, so the odds were the electrician wasn’t working at Finnegan’s. Having Luisa there would be difficult enough. The addition of a workman would have forced them to postpone the confrontation.

When they reached the back of the restaurant, they could hear Luisa singing away in Spanish inside. Jaye knocked on the door, sorry she was about to ruin Luisa’s day.

Quinn opened the door. “Ladies,” he said, looking more pleased than puzzled to see them there. Apparently, Jaye’s previous visit had paved the road for friendly backdoor encounters. “What can I do for you?”

Sierra didn’t hesitate for a second. “I want to talk to you about possibly catering a party I’m planning.” To Jaye, she didn’t sound the least bit nervous or deceitful.

“Of course, of course,” he said, “come on in so we can talk.” If Quinn detected anything amiss in her little speech, he was hiding it well. He stood to one side so that she and Sierra could enter the kitchen. Once inside they were embraced by the rich aroma of the Mexico City soup Luisa was stirring in a big pot on the commercial-sized stove. She stopped singing long enough to welcome them, causing Jaye another pang of remorse for the misery they were about to inflict on her. Sierra caught her eye for a moment, and Jaye knew she was thinking the same thing. They didn’t have the luxury of sparing Luisa’s feelings unless they didn’t mind going to prison. That put things back in perspective pretty darn fast.

“We can sit in my office,” Quinn said, leading the way into a small, cluttered room just off the kitchen. Once they were seated, he offered the women a cold drink, which they declined. The last thing Jaye wanted was to prolong her discomfort. In anticipation of the coming confrontation, her insides were busy dancing the shimmy.

Quinn shuffled through the blizzard of papers that covered his desk until he found a pad of paper and a pen. “I’ve got to clean up this mess,” he grumbled. “It takes me forever to find anything.”

“Too few hours in the day,” Sierra commiserated.

“Ain’t that the truth? So, why don’t you give me an idea about how many people you’ll be having?”

“Fourteen,” she said. “I thought we could have a build your own taco or burrito bar with all the fixings.” She sounded so earnest that Jaye almost forgot there wasn’t actually going to be a party.

Quinn suggested other menu items that would also lend themselves to guest participation. “Mexican food is perfect for that kind of thing,” he said. “I’ll work up a menu today and give you a total. If it doesn’t suit you, we can always make changes to modify the price. Don’t worry, we’ll do it up in style.”

Sierra thanked him, and almost as an afterthought said, “Oh, I wanted to ask you about the place you take your dog to be groomed. K9 Kutz, right?”

Quinn, who’d been starting to rise from his seat, sat back down again. “Yeah, that’s where I take Duncan. Why?”

“I’ve been looking for somewhere cheaper to take Frosty, and when I called there and asked for a customer referral they gave me a couple of names, including yours.”

A frown had lowered over Quinn’s pale blue eyes. “I didn’t know they did that,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Gave out customer names, I mean.”

“I figured they had your permission,” Sierra said.

“I’ll talk to them about it,” he said, clearly disgruntled. “To be honest, though, they always do a decent job on the dog. It’s a bit farther to drive, but much more reasonable than the places around here.”

“Then you’ll still go back there in spite of the accident?” Jaye asked, joining the conversation now that they were done discussing the imaginary party.

“Accident? Oh, you mean when I slipped and fell there?” He gave a little snort of laughter. “That was just me being clumsy.”

“And resourceful,” Jaye added.

His smile faded. “What do you mean?”

“The police are looking for the person who planted the white fur on Peggy’s body,” Sierra replied in a helpful, heads-up tone of voice.

“Wait a minute—are you saying I planted it?” His jaw tightened and a ropy vein in his temple stood out. Jaye swore she could see it throbbing.

“Of course not,” Sierra replied mildly. “All she’s saying is that you had access to fur like that.”

“Sounded more like an accusation to me,” he muttered, looking from Sierra to Jaye and back again as if trying to decide whom to trust.

“I’m sure Brock and Anastos have cleared you as a suspect by now,” Jaye said, feeling like she was engaged in a weird sort of slow-motion battle.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Well, they called the other day to let us know we were in the clear.” Oh, how she wished that were true. “Haven’t you heard from them yet?”

“Did you go to the police with this fur theory of yours?” Quinn demanded, ignoring her question.

“It’s actually their theory,” Sierra said. “I guess we might have inadvertently mentioned your fall at K9 Kutz when Brock called us. I don’t remember for sure.” She turned to Jaye. “Do you?”

Jaye shook her head, watching Quinn’s face turn an interesting shade of reddish purple as if he were about to pop an aneurysm.

“You told them about my fall in order to save your own necks, didn’t you?” he thundered.

“We like you Quinn,” Sierra replied calmly, “but not enough to take the rap for you.”

Quinn launched himself out of his chair, effectively throwing the switch to real-time action. He came around his desk in a couple of long strides to stand over them.

Sierra and Jaye shrank back in their chairs as if they’d been blown back by the force of the big man’s anger. Jaye had a sudden memory flash of the Big Bad Wolf trying to blow down the homes of the Three Little Pigs. Terrific—couldn’t she draw on something more helpful?

“You come into my restaurant on the pretext of business and accuse me of murder?” Quinn raged at them.

Every neuron in Jaye’s brain was screaming at her to get up so she could escape before Quinn’s anger drove him to kill again, but he was barely two feet away and blocking the only route to the door. She should have thought of that when they’d followed him into the office. Then she could have at least angled her chair back and away from the desk to give herself more room to maneuver. What had made her think she could investigate a murder case without even the most rudimentary training in self-defense? Without even reading Amateur Sleuthing for Morons, if such a book existed. No matter. There was simply no way she was going to let Quinn harm her or Sierra today.

Gripping the arms of her chair, she leapt to her feet, intending to swing the chair around and shove it at Quinn like a lion tamer under the big top. But the chair was heavier than she’d anticipated, and for a frantic moment she wasn’t sure she could even get it off the ground. Then a burst of adrenalin kicked in, and the chair sailed through the air, the legs finding their mark in Quinn’s lower abdomen. He grunted and stumbled backward. Following her lead, Sierra used her chair to deliver a powerful shot to his shins, knocking him off his feet. As he went down, Jaye turned for the door with Sierra on her heels only to run full tilt into Luisa, who was standing in the doorway. She was no longer singing. In fact, she was brandishing a large, shiny knife with bits of corn and carrots still stuck to the blade.