Never Say Chai by Kirsten Weiss

Author:Kirsten Weiss [weiss, kirsten]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cozy mystery, tearoom mystery, whodunit, murder, killing, crime, amateur detective, amateur sleuth, woman detective, female sleuth
Publisher: misterio press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Tony rested his hand on Hyperion’s shoulder. The two men said nothing to each other for a long moment, as if in silent communication. Then Tony sighed and released my partner.

Tony didn’t look bad for someone who’d spent the week in jail. His navy blazer was unwrinkled, his jeans and denim shirt fresh.

I shivered again, glad I’d worn my sweater duster, and glanced at Hyperion, jacketless in his white, collarless shirt. The guy was impervious to cold.

“You’re out,” Hyperion said briskly. “Good. What happened?”

“I finally scared up the bail money.” He rested his hands on his belt, which, I noticed, was weapon-free, aside from the massive buckle. You could put an eye out with that thing.

“I’ve got an aunt in Amarillo with a soft spot for me,” he continued.

“Nice aunt,” I said. Even if she’d only had to put up ten percent for the bail, it had still been pretty steep.

“She’s in oil.”

A thuggish looking man with greasy hair and bare, muscular arms trotted down the steps. He gave Tony a hard stare.

Tony began to draw aside his jacket, where his badge and gun would be. Then, he seemed to realize they weren’t there anymore. He gave the man a granite stare back.

The man looked away and hurried on.

“You two didn’t kill anyone to suggest my innocence, did you?” the detective drawled.

“I don’t like you that much,” I said. “You obviously heard what happened. It’s awful, but at least they’ve got to drop the charges now.”

“Why?” the detective asked.

“Because someone killed Johnson,” Hyperion said. “The two murders are linked.”

Tony shoved back his cowboy hat. “Are they?”

“It does seem likely,” I said slowly. “We don’t have so many murders in this town. When two business partners die, there’s got to be a connection.”

“When did they kick you loose?” Hyperion asked.

“This afternoon.”

Hyperion’s face cleared. “Then they can’t blame you for this. You couldn’t have done it. We found his body in the morning.”

“Someone who cared about me could have killed Mr. Warszowski to make me look innocent.”

Hyperion’s face tightened.

“Baranko tried to get you to confess,” Tony continued. “Didn’t he?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Hyperion said.

The detective nodded. “All right. In spite of everything I told you, you two are in it up to your necks. We may as well have a sit down somewhere private.”

“Abigail’s house,” Hyperion said, and I looked at him in surprise.

We piled into Tony’s Jeep Commander and drove to my bungalow. Tony parked on the street in front of Brik’s house.

My neighbor’s windows were dark. His pickup wasn’t in the driveway.

Not that I cared or anything.

Tony stopped in front of the coffin racer and studied its black-painted sides. “I’m not sure what to think about this.”

“It’s Beanblossom’s entry in the coffin race,” Hyperion said.

Tony’s eyes widened. “You’re going to coffin race? What about the curse?”

“Abigail’s driving.”

“Is she now?” He shot me a doubtful look. “You’re going to let her drive that great big coffin all by herself?”

“I’m right here,” I said, annoyed. Is it because I’m short I get talked over? It’s gotta be because I’m short.

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