Pie Hard by Kirsten Weiss

Author:Kirsten Weiss
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-12-13T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

“Motive?” I glanced anxiously around the packed restaurant. The cameraman focused on Nigel, who chatted with Marla at her central two-top. Smiling benignly, Frank sat at the counter. He watched Ilsa sign autographs for a sunburnt family of five. Drying beach towels hung over the backs of their chairs. I didn’t think the crew members could hear Ray and Henrietta, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

“Let’s talk in my office,” I said and motioned to Charlene, who sidled into Marla’s shot.

The four of us trooped into my office, still decorated with the easel and Nigel’s drawings, and I shut the door.

“This had better be good.” Charlene leaned against my metal desk and crossed her arms over her green knit tunic. “You’re ruining my TV moment.”

“Ray and Henrietta say they’ve found something. And half the show’s been about you.”

“And yet Marla’s managed to shove in.” She growled.

Ray dug a computer tablet from his backpack and opened it to reveal a complicated-looking diagram. “Okay, so I did online searches for everyone on the crew and created dossiers from what I found.”

Charlene snatched the tablet from him and frowned. “Where are they?”

He came to her side and touched the screen. “There’s Ilsa’s.”

Charlene whistled. “Her last kitchen burned down?” She shot me a significant look.

“In Vegas,” he said. “But that’s not the most interesting part of the story. Before the fire, Ilsa had filed a sexual harassment complaint against the owner. Then after the place burned, she left.”

“What if she set the fire?” Henrietta gestured in a wide motion and knocked a box of straws from the metal bookcase. Paper-wrapped straws rolled across the linoleum, and I sighed. I’d just put those back.

“Whoops.” She knelt to retrieve them. “Maybe she set the fire at the hotel too.”

I helped her stuff straws into the box. “Was there anything to suggest arson?” Did Ilsa lock me in the burning room? I swayed, suddenly dizzy, and braced one hand on the floor. I’d come to like Ilsa, or at least respect her. It just proved how poor my judgment was.

“No,” Ray admitted. “All the newspaper articles said it was an accident. But they could have been wrong. The fire burned down half the restaurant.”

I shuddered. We didn’t do much frying, so a kitchen fire wasn’t quite as likely in Pie Town. Along with alien abduction, fire was one of my worst nightmares—even more so after the hotel incident.

“And there’s more,” he said. “There’s something weird about that new producer, Frank Harris.”

“Oh?” I said, dread puddling in my stomach.

“The weird thing is,” he continued, “I can’t find him on the Internet anywhere.”

“Not everybody lives their life online,” Charlene said. “Some of us still put photos in albums and use the phone to call people.”

Charlene wasn’t one of those people. Straightening, I smiled wryly and set the box of straws the metal shelf.

“I know,” he said, “but there should be something. He’s a ghost. It’s like he doesn’t exist.”

“TV producer isn’t his normal job,” I said, defensive for no good reason.

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