Page 16 of Covert Chaos

I walked across the room and peered out the window at the lake. "I feel like there's something going on with their business that we need to find out about.”

"It's a pie situation," Hattie agreed. "See? Recipes matter. They are worth gold."

"But murder?" I shook my head. "People murder over money, yes. Revenge, yes. Love, yes, Power, yes. Jealousy, yes. Recipes, no. Unless it’s tied to something else like money, love, power, or revenge."

"Recipes are money," Hattie said.

"But for the Diamond Pie Baking Company? Is that enough money?" I shifted King Tut, thinking. "And why you, Hattie? Why did they pick you to dump the body on?"

Hattie shook her head. "Honestly, they all have a reason."

I glanced at Lucy, who sighed. "What are they?"

Hattie sat down on a crate. "I dated Beckwith briefly at one time."

I nodded. "You mentioned that."

"He tried to convince me to go into business with him, but I refused. No woman should ever go into business with a man. Woman power all the way."

I grinned. "We know about Rachel, but what about Emmeline?"

"Mia!" Devlin's voice echoed down the hall, and we all went silent as his footsteps strode past the room.

Stubborn man had blown right past Felicia and headed to the side deck.

"He's going to come back and realize we're in here," Lucy said. "Why does he care where you are?"

"Because he knows I'm up to something. Let's go before he turns around." I hurried to the door, opened it, and peered out just as Devlin walked out the door to the deck. "It's clear!" I sprinted back down the hall to the kitchen, Lucy and Hattie on my tail.

We raced through the kitchen, waving at Chef Felicia as we sprinted past. Emmeline and Rachel were nowhere to be seen.

Chef Felicia turned to watch us. "Is that a cat? Do you have a cat in my kitchen? Hattie, you know better than that!"

And then we were out of the kitchen before she could stop us.

Ten

The hallway was now clear, so we bolted down the corridor and into the back room in search of Charles.

He wasn't there.

Because the back room was apparently closed for renovations.

The lights were off, and there was a tarp across the pool table. The chairs and barstools were piled up in the middle under another plastic sheet. The couches along the windows were also covered, and they'd been pulled in several feet from the walls.

The right-hand wall was ripped open, exposing wiring and studs, and a table saw was in the middle of the room, primed and waiting for something else to slice up. There were also paint trays on the table, and a stack of gallon paint cans.

I stopped. "This feels like a horror movie." There was even plastic sheeting over the floor, which felt a little unnecessary considering the amount of beer that floor usually hosted on a good night.

It would be a really handy spot to murder someone, though. Wrap the body up in the tarp, head out the back door, and leave no trace behind.

"The fact that Beckwith is in your truck instead of back here is very telling," Lucy said. "This would be a great place to hide a body, but instead, he's in your truck."

"Hattie's truck has her café name on the side of it," I added, looking around but not quite entering the room. It was so dark that someone could be in a corner and not quite visible. "Anyone would know it was hers."

"I feel so honored to know how specifically I am being targeted. I'm taking it as a compliment." But there was a little less pep in Hattie's voice than usual, because in truth, chasing murderers might have moments of fun, but having one really focus on you? Not as uplifting and liberating as one might think.

We fell silent for a minute, and it was then that I noticed a part of the floor that wasn't covered with a tarp. It looked like a tarp was missing. I pointed to it. "You guys don't think that someone was wrapped up in that tarp and carried out, do you?"

---