Chocolate Most Deadly (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 2) Read Free Page A

lab,” she explained, slumping forward and closing
her eyes briefly. “The preliminary results showed lethal levels of cyanide in
the frosting they recovered from the cupcake papers and the inside of the box.”
    “And how’s your brother handling
all of this?”
    One hand slowly covered her mouth.
“I don’t know really,” she sighed through her fingers. “It’s just all so
impossible to believe, Kate.” She took a deep breath, lowered the hand and
tried to smile. “I mean, my little brother? He’s the nicest guy in the world.”
    “I’m sure he is,” I said. “But it
sounds like someone didn’t hold the same opinion.”
    She nodded as the frail grin on her
face dissolved into a frown. “I just don’t know—”
    “Viv?”
    She looked up.
    “What else did your brother tell
you?”
    She blinked. “About the poisoned
cupcakes?”
    I nodded.
    “Well, he found the box, looked
inside and decided to give them to his neighbor. A few hours later, like, in
the middle of the night basically, the guy was pounding on Tim’s door, gasping for
air and choking. Tim called 911 and the ambulance took him to the hospital. I
guess the paramedics alerted the police after they saw the symptoms and heard
what my brother had to say.”
    “Meaning they suspected something
fishy was going on with the cupcakes?”
    “Uh-huh. I guess EMTs see it more
often than we’d ever imagine. You know, people that get poisoned and the like.
After the police came and Tim told them what happened, they found the bakery
box in the neighbor’s apartment and took it to the lab.”
    I considered what I’d learned so
far: Viveca’s brother was allergic to chocolate; someone left an anonymous
cupcake delivery at his door; he gave the sweet treats to his neighbor; the
neighbor was rushed to the ER; and, the police suspected it was cyanide.
    “And you said this happened three
days ago?”
    She answered with a quick nod. “Tim
found them on Saturday afternoon,” she said. “The neighbor went to the hospital
early Sunday morning.”
    “Why didn’t your brother call you
right away?”
    “He was at the police station for a
really long time,” she said. “And when they allowed him to use the phone, he
called his new girlfriend. She was supposed to let me know, but the situation
got her so rattled that she lost the piece of paper where she’d written my
number.”
    “Okay, but they had to release him
at some point, right?”
    She smirked. “They did,” she said
angrily. “And he went straight to the nearest liquor store, bought a bottle of
vodka and drank himself right into another relapse.” The look in her eyes was a
swirl of irritation and sorrow. “My brother’s got a bit of a drinking problem,”
Viveca said, confirming what I suspected after something she’d told me a few
weeks earlier. “He’d been sober for nearly a year until all of this happened.”
    I listened as she shared a quick recap
of his greatest hits: a drunk driving arrest in Seattle; two broken ankles
after jumping from a third-floor hotel room while inebriated; three nights in a
Wisconsin jail after being arrested for public intoxication; getting fired from
countless jobs when he arrived for work smelling of booze after all-night
benders.
    “There’s a whole lot more,” Viveca
said. “But I think you get the picture.”
    I nodded. “Tim’s younger or older?”
    “He’s twenty-four,” she answered.
“Five years younger than me.”
    “When did he call you?” I asked.
    “Late last night,” Viveca replied.
“But I also got a call from his girlfriend about fifteen minutes ago.” Her eyes
closed and she pulled in a deep breath. “The police picked Tim up this morning
for more questioning.”
    I nibbled on a cookie, waiting for
more. When she sat quietly with her eyes closed for a couple of minutes, I
prompted her again.
    “Huh?” She looked at me, blinking
repeatedly. “What was that?”
    “You were telling me about your
brother,” I answered.