Book 42 - Cotton Candy Fluff Murder_KDP

by Gillard, Susan

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

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  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright 2017 by Guardian Publishing Group - All rights reserved.

  All rights Reserved. No part of this publication or the information in it may be quoted from or reproduced in any form by means such as printing, scanning, photocopying or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 1

  “It’s wonderful to have visitors so frequently,” Leila said and patted the spot on the bed next to her.

  Lilly sat down and handed the old woman one of her stories. “I wrote this for you. It’s the adventures of Dinosaur King and Billy the Goat.” She’d spent the entire week writing this one up.

  “That’s wonderful, dear, thank you,” Leila said.

  Heather popped the box of donuts on the bedside table, then took a seat beside Amy and Eva, who’d pulled in two chairs from the hall. They’d set aside Sunday mornings for a visit to Heather’s grandmother’s friend at Hillside Manor – truthfully, Leila had become their friend too.

  “You’ll love this week’s donut, dear,” Eva said and folded her hands in her lap.

  “What is it?” Leila asked.

  Heather grinned. This was her favorite part of the week. She loved the big reveal. Everything after that was just an added sprinkle of happiness. “I call them Cotton Candy Fluff Donuts,” Heather said.

  “Oh wow. They sound amazing.”

  “You’re kidding, right? They’re past amazing. I’ve gained a pound this morning alone,” Amy said and patted her flat stomach. She’d always been the athletic one between the two of them, and she’d certainly kept her figure through a combination of metabolism, stress and morning cardio.

  At least, she’d given up on pulling Heather into ‘leg day’ – a series of exercises which’d left her breathless and praying for salvation.

  “What’s in them?” Leila asked, and open the box’s lid. The sweet scent of cotton candy drifted out alongside the warmth of freshly baked donuts.

  “They’re a plain vanilla base, baked in the oven until crispy brown, then double dipped in a sticky blue cotton candy glaze.”

  “Isn’t cotton candy just spun sugar?” Leila asked, and took one out of the box. Lilly fetched her a napkin from Heather’s purse.

  “You’d think,” Heather said and tapped the side of her nose. “But cotton candy actually has flavor. The blue one has a mild raspberry flavor, which is what we used for this particular donut. It’s sinfully sweet and sticky, but the vanilla base should offset that sweetness.”

  They’d added very little sugar to the donut base for exactly that reason.

  Leila took a healthy – the term was subjective in this case – bite of the donut and closed her eyes. “Oh my heavens,” she whispered. Pure elation danced across her face.

  “You like it?” Heather asked.

  “Are you fishing for compliments, Heather Shepherd?” Amy snorted. “The woman is transported. You can see she likes it.”

  “Shush, you.” Heather swatted her bestie on the arm, then turned back to Leila again. “How are things here? Are you still happy?”

  Leila opened one eye. “As happy as I can be. I get visitors all the time, now, and these donuts too.” She opened the other and wriggled her nose. “Things could be better, though.”

  “Better how?” Heather asked. She checked in on her grandmother’s friend as much as possible – she’d hate to think that the woman’s needs had fallen by the wayside thanks to her busy schedule of solving murders and baking donuts.

  Leila placed the donut on the napkin. She ran her finger over its top, collected some of the glaze, then put it in her mouth. “Things are changing here.”

  “They’re changing everywhere,” Eva said.

  Leila nodded her agreement. “I’ve had the feeling lately that, oh, I don’t know, I’ll probably sound ridiculous if I say it.” She’d always been soft spoken.

  “No one thinks you’re ridiculous.”

  “Hillside is changing. I know there’s been this influx of tourists and business owners and I can’t help but feel that there are strangers coming in with them.” Leila paused and pointed at Ames. “Now, don’t you look at me like that. I’m not a xenophobe or one of those folks who can’t get along with others.”

  “Then what do you mean?” Heather asked.

  “I mean, people keep coming into Hillside. People who we don’t know. People we can’t vouch for.” Leila gave a sad shake of her head and looked out of the window. “Things are different from when I was a girl. Or even a woman for that matter.”

  “The Hillside originals,” Eva said.

  Everyone turned to her.

  “What? It’s a thing. There are people who have lived here all their lives and now, there are strangers coming in and taking their place. Soon, there will be a whole new set of Hillside originals,” Eva said.

  “Whatever the case may be,” Leila replied, and moved her donut to the bedside table, “I don’t much like it. I don’t much like the –”

  A crash rang out from the hall outside followed by a wail – the kind Heather could only describe as ‘blood-curdling.’ Every hair on her body snapped to attention and she scrambled out of her chair.

  Leila slipped an arm around Lilly’s shoulders and drew her into a hug, but the girl looked more intrigued than afraid. She certainly had an investigative spirit.

  “Everyone stay right here,” Heather said and hurried to the door.

  Ames jumped up and followed her, of course. She didn’t think ‘everyone’ applied to her.

  Heather creaked the door open and peeked out. She checked both sides of the hall, then gasped. A woman kneeled near the entrance to the building, gripping two fistfuls of hair and sobbing.

  Heather couldn’t make out the tears, but the woman’s torso rocked back and forth, back and forth. She hiccupped and shrieked again. Two orderlies rushed forward and helped her up.

  “She’s wearing a uniform,” Heather said. “She works here.”

  “Oh,” Leila said. “I know who that is. She’s been carrying on like that for the past week and I don’t blame her, poor woman.”

  Heather shut the door and went back to her seat. “Who is she?”

  �
�Blond woman, right?” Leila asked. “In the Hillside Manor uniform?”

  “That’s right.”

  “That’s Pammy Nolan. Her son is in the hospital. He was injured during a horse-riding incident,” Leila said. “The horse bucked him off and he struck his back and neck. He’s in a coma.”

  “That’s terrible. Why is she still at work?” Eva asked.

  “They tried to make her go home but she refuses. I think she needs to keep her hands busy. You know what they say about idle hands and idle minds.” Leila’s electric blue eyes had dulled a little – as if the thought of that much sorrow overwhelmed her.

  They sank into an uncomfortable silence no amount of donut chatter could fix.

  Lilly slipped off the bed and took the pages of her story from Leila’s lap. “I think I’ll read it to you,” she said. “I’m sure it will make you laugh.”

  Lilly to the rescue. What would they have done without her? Laughter soon replaced the quiet thanks to the antics of the Dinosaur King and Billy the Goat – who reminded Heather a lot of Amy, coincidentally.

  Chapter 2

  Heather didn’t often sleep late – she could, though, since technically she owned Donut Delights and could get up a little later than her ever faithful assistants – but she’d taken her opportunity with both hands.

  “Monday morning,” Amy sang and set an easy pace down the sidewalk.

  Heather yawned and struggled to keep up. “I swear, the more I sleep the worse I feel.”

  “Oh come on,” Amy said. “You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy not waking up at Rooster’s fart this morning.”

  Heather snorted a laugh. “Rooster’s fart.”

  “Wow, you are tired. You just laughed at a fart joke.”

  “You just made one,” Heather said and adjusted her loose sweater. The weather had warmed loads. Spring had officially arrived, but there was a tiny nip in the air this morning.

  “What’s on the agenda today, Mrs. Shepherd?” Amy asked, and looped her arm through Heather’s. “Making donuts and..?”

  “And that’s about it. We’ve got our filing on track and I’ve already scheduled in the online orders which have to be taken out this week. Can you believe we’ve got orders all the way from Louisiana? I’ve called Mr. Tombs to speak about trucks. Refrigerated trucks.”

  “I can’t believe that,” Amy said, eyes focused on something in the distance. Her steps slowed. “You know what else I can’t believe?”

  “What?”

  “Kate Laverne’s sheer stupidity. Or is it just a stubborn evil streak?”

  “What?” Heather swiveled her head and huffed out a breath. Oh boy.

  Kate had positioned herself beneath the Stop sign up ahead. Oh, she didn’t dare lean against it lest it crease her spotless pants suit, and the stiletto heels on her too-narrow feet elevated her out of the grit and dirt.

  She could keep the outside of herself as clean as she liked, Heather and Ames knew the truth about her. She was rotten to the core.

  It sounded harsh, but darn it if Kate hadn’t proved that time and time again. What type of person slandered another in the newspaper, just to get ahead in business?

  “Shepherd,” Kate said.

  They halted a few feet from her. Amy stretched her neck left and right and shook out her arms.

  “What are you doing?” Heather muttered.

  “You know, getting ready. If she wants to throw down, I’m all for it.”

  “Oh yeah, that’s what we need. You in jail. I really don’t feel like investigating you.”

  “Psssh, like you could catch me.”

  Heather narrowed her eyes at Laverne. “What do you want, Kate?”

  “You think you’re smart, do you? You and your little sidekick over there.”

  Amy wiggled her foot. “She got the kick part right. Come over here, darlin’, I’ll show you how much of a sidekick I am.”

  “There’s no need for violence,” Heather said and moved in front of her bestie. She doubted Amy would actually hurt the woman, but Kate had pushed them far and if anyone knew how unpredictable people could be when they were pushed to the brink it was Heather.

  Stress did strange things to people.

  “What do you want, Kate?” Heather repeated. The sooner they got this out of the way, the better. They had a store full of happy customers waiting for them.

  “I’ll tell you what I want, Shepherd. I want you out of this town. I want you out before the end of the year or you’re going to regret it.”

  “You say that a lot,” Heather replied. “The regret thing. It seems to me you’ve got a problem with regret, Kate. Do you regret moving here? Do you regret opening up a failing cupcake store?”

  “Ooooh,” Amy said, and clapped once. “Snap.”

  Heather buried her laughter. Kate’s appearance had transformed Ames into a high school student at a fight after school.

  “It’s not failing,” Kate snapped. “You’re failing. You’re done, Shepherd. Mark my words. You’re done.”

  Heather feigned a yawn. “Forgive me. I’ve heard this all before and I’ve lost –” Her phone buzzed in her tote bag. Uh oh. Please, please, heaven’s sake let that be one of the assistants at the store.

  She fished it out and showed Laverne her back. That conversation was over before it’d begun. Kate had nothing but empty threats and bitterness to spill all over the place.

  “Hello?” Heather answered.

  “I need you,” Ryan said.

  Words that would’ve elicited happiness under normal circumstances. “What’s happened?”

  Amy flanked Heather – she couldn’t see her friend but felt her at her back – and blocked Laverne from the conversation.

  “I’ve got a young man, college-aged, dead in the hospital. Suspicious circumstances otherwise I wouldn’t be calling you. I need you down at Hillside Regional as soon as possible.”

  Heather hadn’t even entered Donut Delights yet. “Amy too?”

  “Of course,” Ryan said. “She’s your assistant now, right?”

  “Right. All right, we’ll be there in a half hour. I’ve just got to check in on everything at the store first.” And warn the assistants that Kate hadn’t diverted from her destructive course. Would she ever? Probably not.

  “See you soon,” Ryan said. “Ask for Fred Nolan’s room and Detective Shepherd at reception. Come through the ER entrance.”

  “Fred Nolan,” Heather said and frowned. Why did that name ring a bell? She’d definitely heard it somewhere before.

  “Problem?”

  “Nothing,” she said. “See you.” She hung up, then slipped the phone back into her tote. She rounded on Laverne, who’d gone all statue beneath the Stop sign. No amount of Amy’s glaring had budged her.

  “Come on, Ames. We’ve got work to get to.” They strode past Kate, Amy gave her the side-eye, and down the sidewalk.

  “I’m coming for you, Shepherd,” Kate yelled. “And you’re not going to see me coming until it’s too late.”

  For once, the threat hit home and Heather had to stifle a shiver.

  Chapter 3

  “Fred Nolan,” Heather muttered and took a corner in the hospital, her comfortable pumps scooting across the lime and cream linoleum. The floor gleamed – a patina brought from years of use and wax.

  “What are you whispering about?” Amy asked.

  “Nolan,” Heather said and stepped past Hoskins, who lifted the police line for them. “That name is super familiar and I don’t know why. Can’t place it.”

  “That’s the name of the woman who collapsed on Sunday. In Hillside Manor?” Amy said, immediately.

  “You’re like the other half of my brain.”

  “Not sure whether I should feel complimented or insulted on that account,” Amy said.

  Heather cut across the hall toward the private room the receptionist had indicated. “It’s got to be the son. Remember, Leila told us that Pammy kept collapsing because she was distraught about her son
. College aged kid who had a horse-riding accident.”

  “Yeah, I remember,” Amy said. “But then why are we here?”

  “He’s passed. And it wasn’t natural.” That was the only conclusion she could bring. Ryan wouldn’t call her over without reason. Natural causes didn’t count as a reason.

  They entered the hospital room and met Ryan’s hardened gaze. He was in full-fledged cop mode, all right, his brow puckered up like a prune on a dry day. “Good,” he said. He didn’t draw Heather into a hug.

  They kept it professional on crime scenes and smooching didn’t seem appropriate for the situation.

  “His body’s gone,” Amy said.

  “We make a point of doing that before we troop into a crime scene,” Ryan said. “Forensics has already been over this place. Dusted for prints and taken whatever samples they take with those things.” He swished two fingers around.

  “Swabs?”

  “That’s the one. Sorry, I’m tired as heck,” he said. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night and Hoskins has been taxing all morning.”

  “Why?”

  “They installed a new vending machine in the hospital and I can barely get him to stay put in front of the police line,” Ryan said and brushed his prune-brow. It didn’t smooth out.

  “All right,” Heather said and studied the bed. It still held Fred Nolan’s indentation. She had to block a wave of sadness and click on her clinical sleuthin’ gene. “What do we have?”

  “The victim,” Ryan said, and flicked through his notepad, “was Fred Nolan. He was in a coma after a recent accident.”

  “Horse bucked him,” Heather said.

  Ryan let the pages fall. “How did you know?”

  “The mother works at Hillside Manor. She collapsed when we were visiting yesterday and Leila gave us the story.” Heather strolled past her hubby and to the window. They were on the second floor, and the parking lot below offered a view of parked cars and a few trees between them, speckled with the green burst of new buds.

  “He was on life support too,” Ryan said. “Did you know that?”

  Heather turned back to her husband. “No. Life support. Why? I thought he just had a concussion or something.”