Drizzled with Death(12)

Piper lifted the dish out of my hand and set it on a gleaming stainless steel counter. Heat radiated off the grill like a pavement in summer. Enough batter to fill a washing machine drum sat mixed and ready in a container nearby. I smelled coffee brewing and suddenly realized how much I would need a couple of cups if I was going to last the evening.

“You look worn out. Knowlton dropped in straight from the breakfast this morning to tell me you were right there when the old bat keeled over.” Piper never minced words. I wished I could be more like her, assertive without being mean.

“It was a shock. But that isn’t the only thing going on.” I filled her in on the mountain lion and the other loose animals. I didn’t tell her the Fish and Game guy was nice looking. Some things are best kept to oneself. Not that that ever worked with Piper.

“So was he cute?”

“The mountain lion?” I asked.

“The Fish and Game guy.” She scowled at me, which might have been intimidating if I hadn’t known her since before she was old enough to cross the street alone.

“If you like his type, I guess he wasn’t bad looking.” I knew I was being evasive. I even knew it would cause her to dig like a badger into what happened last night. I just couldn’t bring myself to admit I had made a fool of myself in front of a cute guy rather than scoring a date like Piper always managed to do.

“So he was cute. ‘Check out his butt when he’s bent over in frozen foods’ cute? Or ‘ram into his car in the parking lot in order to exchange insurance information so you can stalk him’ cute?”

“He’s not my type so I’m sure I couldn’t say.” I felt prim even saying it. I always sound prim when I lie. I hate that about myself. Lying turns me into a Victorian-era maiden aunt.

“Is he my type?” Piper leaned on the counter, propping her pointy little elfin chin on her fist. All down her forearm a Jack in the Beanstalk tattoo swirled and danced. Grimm’s Fairy Tales were painted on all parts of her body; she was like a flesh-and-blood storyscape. My favorite was the one on her back of Sleeping Beauty at the spinning wheel.

“He might be a little clean-cut for you.” Piper generally went for either similarly tattooed guys or ones in quirky vintage three-piece suits. Men with a normal appearance never seemed to register on her radar.

“Are you calling me a dirty girl?” Piper pouted and blew a giant pink bubble right in my face. I wasn’t sure gum met health inspection regulations, but who was I going to tell?

“Of course not. He’s just a bit pedestrian for your tastes. He was wearing a uniform.”

“A uniform?”

“Yeah. Like a police officer.”

“Nope. Not my type. I don’t do uniforms. You can’t tell anything about a man as an individual if he’s wearing a uniform.”

“I don’t know about that. Clothes don’t make the man.”

“After what happened with Mitch, I can see why you said he wasn’t your type if he showed up in a uniform.” Piper slurped her gum back into her mouth and clicked on the fleet of waffle makers on a nearby counter.

“That was kind of a turnoff for the whole men-in-uniform thing,” I said. Which was too bad since I didn’t share Piper’s view on that subject before Mitch. I mean really, most men aren’t all that great at putting together a decent outfit. In the case of a uniform, a professional has designed it and all he has to do is put it on. I often wish I had a uniform of my own to wear that was a no-brainer and always looked great. The closest I had were jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Not really the same caliber as a police uniform, but at least I could usually find something in my size.

“So was the whole Alanza thing as bad as people are saying?”

“What are they saying?”

“She foamed at the mouth. Turned turquoise then fell splat into her plate without so much as a moan.”

“It wasn’t quite like that. Who have you been talking to?”

“Who haven’t I been talking to? Roland Chick is the one I’ve given the most credence to since he was at the competitors’ table when it happened.”

“Yes. He was. He wasn’t sitting right next to her, but he had bowed out of the competition and was simply observing Alanza and Grampa by the time she keeled over. He was in a good position to see everything.”

“So were you from the sounds of it.”

“I was. I was standing right there, just to the side of the table. It was so strange, it almost looked fake. One minute she was cheesing people off and the next she was flopped over in the flapjacks. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it sort of put me off maple syrup.”