Book 42 - Cotton Candy Fluff Murder_KDP

by Gillard, Susan

  “Can you think of anyone who might’ve wanted to hurt Fred?” Heather asked. “Anyone at all?”

  Joe sucked his teeth and considered it. He blinked up at the cloudless blue sky. “Yeah, actually. That sister of his. If anyone was an enemy, I guess you could say it was her.”

  “Why do you think that?” Amy asked.

  “Just the way they were when they were around each other. They were like two peacocks on display, prancing and pretty, all smiles, but ready to rip at each other as soon as backs were turned.”

  “I – uh, are peacocks like that?”

  Joe snorted and spat in the hay. “That’s what they were like is all I’m saying. And they fought a lot too. The two of them fought so much they scared the horses. Poor Fred’s horse ain't been right since the day of the practice.”

  “Was that the day he tossed Fred?” Heather asked.

  “That’s right. Broke his neck didn’t he?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, the horse was spooked that morning. I don’t know why, but old Chaddy Wad was spooked. I figured somethin’ bad had happened. I warned Fred not to take the ol’ boy out but he didn’t listen. Looked at me with that poop look.”

  So much to process. Chaddy Wad? Poop look?

  “You know, the kind where he looks at you like you’re nothing but horse manure he found under his shoe. That kinda look. Gives me the anger shakes,” Joe said, then gave a raw chuckle. “I’ll never see that look again.”

  Creepy. “All right, so the horse, Chaddy Wad, was it?”

  “That’s the one. Chaddy Wad. He was spooked,” Joe said and tapped the side of his nose. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll bet anything that Fred’s sister messed with that horse’s bit or saddle before the practice. There was a competition the next day, see? And she didn’t like him winning all the time.”

  Heather and Amy could both testify to that. The image of Suzanne thrusting a trophy through the window was unforgettable.

  “You can go check that saddle yourself. It’s still in there. Last stall on the left. I took it off after the boy was rushed off and as far as I know, ain't nobody been back to check on the horse except for me since then.”

  “Thanks, Joe,” Heather said. “You’ve been very helpful.”

  “I didn’t like that little scrooge. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth like most these kids. But I’ll tell you what, lady, I like murderers even less than snobs. Those are bad folk. The kind we don’t need in Hillside.” Another snort and spit followed that sentiment.

  Amy placed a hand over her mouth.

  “Shall we?” Heather asked, and gestured to the stables. Dave practically tugged himself off the leash. Ames tightened her grip on Cupcake, who’d begun squirming out of control.

  They trailed past Joe, who didn’t take his eyes off them until they entered the long, dark corridor between the stables. The scent of manure and urine intensified, mixed with hay and horse.

  They picked up the pace and Dave straggled for once, taking his time to sniff at every item in sight. No nook or cranny went unexplored.

  “This is it,” Heather said and patted the wooden railing. Inside, a horse, it had to be Chaddy Wad, lay in the hay. It didn’t get up at the sight of them. Heather walked to the saddle which hung over the rail and examined it. “Do you know anything about this stuff?”

  “No,” Amy said. “Unless you count an unfortunate beach ride which ended in terrified screams.”

  “Tell me later.” Heather picked over the saddle. She fiddled with the straps and the pommel, lifted it a little, then flopped it back down again. She wasn’t an expert by any means, but it looked in order to her.

  “Anything?’

  “Nope.” Heather sighed. “Back to the drawing board. At least, we know that Suzanne’s little trophy tantrum wasn’t isolated. She didn’t get on with her brother.”

  “I can’t speak for Fred’s character but if he was anything like Suzanne…”

  “Yeah, he might have had a lot of enemies. A lot of horse-loving enemies. Come on, let’s back to the store. The smell in here is starting to burn the insides of my nostrils.”

  “Now, who’s dramatic?”

  Heather spared one final glance for Fred’s quiet horse, then hurried out of the dark.

  Chapter 10

  Heather settled behind the counter in Donut Delights and let the happy sounds of her customers, of their chatter, laughter and clinking cups, wash over her. It was barely halfway through the week and she’d already exhausted her mind on the case.

  Fred Nolan had had enemies. His accident might not have been an accident, and someone in a nurse’s outfit had stolen into his room to finish the job, then left a threatening note on Heather’s front door.

  Which mean that killer, that particular someone, knew she was in on the investigation. Hillside wasn’t tiny anymore, but it still had that small town vibe. The gossip vine which ran through the center of Donut Delights was as active as ever.

  Did that mean one of the ‘originals’ as Eva had called them, had murdered Fred?

  “Now, that’s a stretch,” she mumbled.

  “I would give you the whole ‘talking to yourself means you’re crazy speech,’ but I think we’re way past that point,” Amy said, from the stool behind the counter.

  “Just thinking about the case. And the surveillance.” Heather wriggled her nose and placed two coffee cups on the machine’s grate. “It’s frustrating that none of the prints came back conclusive to anything. And that we didn’t get DNA.”

  “You get frustrated with every case.”

  “Don’t sound so beleaguered, you’re going to join me on the frustration train sooner or later.”

  Amy placed her palm to her chest. “I happen to believed we’ll solve every case. So when the going gets tough I figure it’s all part of the plan. How else would we prove our metal? Imagine how boring life would be if things were easy all the time.”

  “Where can I download it?” Heather asked.

  “What?”

  “The TED talk you just gave me,” she replied and clicked the buttons on the coffee machine.

  “Oh ho.” Amy swatted Heather’s lower back with a rag, then got up and set to polishing the counter. “I thought I was the one who made the jokes around here.”

  “I figured it was time a professional stepped in.”

  “Am I interrupting something ladies?” Ryan’s voice was a welcome reprieve – whatever comeback had been on the tip of Amy’s tongue had been vicious if her expression was anything to go by.

  “Hey, hon,” Heather said and scooted around to the other side of the counter. She kissed him on the cheek. “Come to pick up some lunch.”

  “Actually, I was thinking of hanging around. Maybe sharing a donut with you,” he said. “And a talk. I just got some new information I think you’d appreciate hearing firsthand.”

  Heather perked up. “Ames?”

  “I got it,” she said and grabbed a plate from underneath the counter.

  Ryan and Heather trooped over to the table closest to the front and sat down. The others in the store didn’t so much as glance at Ryan’s uniform. The regulars knew him and the newbies didn’t worry themselves with police – probably because they’d arrived from bigger cities.

  “What’s going on?” Heather asked.

  “We’ve just gotten some information on one of the nurses at the hospital,” Ryan said. “A woman. Nurse Delilah.”

  “She was assigned to Fred?”

  “That’s right, and on duty at the time of his death. Except no one saw her around that time and the cameras show her entering the bathroom and staying in there for a good few hours.”

  “Interesting,” Heather said. “But by no means a smoking gun. I take it you have something else?”

  “She’s got a history of being abusive to patients,” Ryan said. “One of them laid charges against her for being rough with him after an operation. Apparently, she left bruises on his arms after a sponge
bath.”

  “Bruises.” Once again, hardly a smoking gun. It depended on the patient. There were a couple cranky old men around who’d sue at the drop of the hat.

  “I know how it sounds, but it’s worth looking into,” Ryan said. “Not to sound negative here, but we’re running out of leads. We still don’t have anyone on camera in that nurse’s uniform and we haven’t found it dumped in the hospital.”

  “That would be a challenge given that it’s a hospital.”

  “I need you to check this out. It might be nothing, but it’s the best we’ve got right now.”

  Ames plonked a plate in the center of the table, then delivered two coffees. She hurried back to the counter and manned the register.

  “We’ll check it out,” Heather said. “But tomorrow, okay? I’ve got to talk to Mr. Tombs about those trucks.”

  “Sure thing,” Ryan said and picked up a donut. He took a bite and groaned under his breath, a swatch of cotton candy fluff glaze clinging to his upper lip. “Bring home a half dozen of these tonight.”

  “You got it,” Heather said and flashed him a smile. It was superficial, though. Underneath the happy exterior, her sleuthin’ gene danced around and demanded answers she just couldn’t offer up yet.

  Chapter 11

  Nurse Delilah sat opposite Heather in the office at Donut Delights, her pressed nurse’s uniform resplendent in the glow of the desk lamp. Heather had turned that on because of the dark clouds gathering in the morning sky outside.

  The first drops of rain pattered against the window and Heather shifted her tablet on her desk. “Thank you for meeting with me,” she said.

  “That’s fine,” Delilah said. Her voice was soft as Cupcake’s fur.

  “Please help yourself to the donuts and coffee.” Heather pointed at the plate in front of the nurse. “I definitely can’t eat another one myself.”

  Delilah gave her a faint smile.

  “Do you know why I asked to meet with you?”

  Delilah nodded, and her short red hair bobbed. She held a little extra weight around her jowls and her brown eyes sat above two dark circles. She must’ve been a few years younger than Heather, but she looked tired – as if the years of caring for others had whittled away her youth.

  Ugh, now wasn’t the time to wax poetic. “I’d like to talk to you about Fred Nolan. He was under your care, correct?”

  “I was assigned to him, yes. All the nurses in ICU were assigned to him and everyone else in the unit,” Delilah said.

  “Right. And did you notice –”

  “I didn’t hurt him.” The nurse trembled in her seat. “I wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “I’m not here to –”

  “I know what you think. I know what it says in your files. You think I hurt Mr. Frankel but I didn’t. I didn’t touch him the way he said I did. I didn’t.” Delilah snapped her mouth shut and drew her lips into a thin white seam.

  “I’m not making any judgments,” Heather said.

  “He laid those charges against me because he hated me. He hated everyone, but me most of all because when he insulted the other nurses I told him to quiet down.” Delilah shrank in the chair and all the fire left her – she’d said her piece.

  “I understand your frustration, Miss Combs, but we’re not here to talk about the past. I’d like to talk to you about Fred.”

  “I know. But you’re only talking to me because you think I hurt him,” she said. “And I didn’t.”

  Heather focused on her tablet screen to avoid Delilah’s stare. If she met it, the woman would see the truth in her eyes. Ryan saw her as a lead for that exact reason, and that no one had seen her at the time of the murder.

  “Miss Combs,” she said.

  “You can call me Delilah.”

  “Delilah,” Heather said, “did you notice anything strange on the day of Fred’s murder? Anyone hanging around or acting oddly?”

  The nurse chewed the corner of her lip. “Yes, actually. I was on my way to check in on him and make sure that his drip hadn’t run out. When I walked into the room Suzanne was there. That’s his sister. She’s a wily young lady.”

  “What was she doing?” Heather asked.

  “Fiddling with the supply closet in the corner. We keep it locked at all times and only the nurses have the keys,” Delilah said. “Anyway, I yelled at her and asked her what she thought she was doing.”

  Heather had difficulty imagining Delilah, as soft-spoken as she was, yelling at anyone. “And what happened?”

  “She threw a temper tantrum and stormed out. It was good that she did, otherwise, I would’ve had to call security. It was after visiting hours, you see. Really early in the morning on Sunday.”

  “I see,” Heather said and typed the information on the screen. “Was there anything else of note?”

  “No. I was, I haven’t – ugh, okay.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I was outside when Fred was murdered. I – I was supposed to be in the building but I snuck out for a break. I needed the fresh air. There’s a back stairwell I use to take breaks when no one’s looking. It’s on the third floor. I use it because I’m so tired all the time,” Delilah said. “I’ve been – my son is in high school now. I’m a single mother. It’s difficult to keep up with everything that’s going on. There’s so much to do when I get home that I don’t get to bed until really late.”

  Heather couldn’t squash her sympathy. The woman worked herself ragged to support her family. “So you were outside when Fred was murdered.”

  “I wasn’t technically supposed to check in on him at that time,” Delilah said. “But I can’t help thinking that if I’d been around, in the ICU, I would’ve seen something. I could’ve stopped it.” Her pale green uniform, pants and a shirt, was spotless.

  “There’s no use going over the past and asking ‘what if?’ All that matters is that we move forward and find out who did this,” Heather said.

  Delilah picked up the donut and took a bite. She dodged forward to avoid dripping sticky glaze onto her uniform. “Thank you,” she said. “This has to be the best interview I’ve had. The cop I spoke to down at the station wasn’t exactly nice.”

  Heather pursed her lips. “Big guy? Eating a candy bar?”

  “That’s him,” she said and gobbled down the donut.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” Darn Hoskins and his unprofessional behavior. At some point, it had to stop. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me? Anything of note?”

  Delilah chewed on her donut and the corners of her crinkled. “Hmmm,” she said. “No, nothing. It was just the sister. I saw the sister there when she shouldn’t have been.”

  “Thank you, Delilah. You’ve been very helpful.” She had been. The evidence pointed back to bad tempered Suzanne, but there wasn’t enough of it. They’d have to find another way to –

  A knock rattled Heather’s office door. “Come in,” she called.

  It opened and Amy poked her head around the ridge. “There’s someone here to see you,” she said. “You’re going to want to talk to him, trust me.”

  Chapter 12

  “Excuse me, Delilah,” Heather said and rose from her swivel chair.

  “No, that’s fine. I’ve got to get to the hospital anyway,” she said. She saluted with her donut, got up and hurried out of the office.

  “What’s going on?” Heather asked.

  Amy grinned at her. “Nothing serious, don’t worry. But I have a feeling you’re going to be happy I interrupted you.”

  Heather followed her friend out of the office and into the store proper, where the morning rush had only just started. Folks lined up in front of the counter, the looks of hunger on their faces plain as the gleam of light on the tops of the donuts beneath the glass.

  “Where?” Heather asked.

  “This way.” Amy led her to a table in the center of the store, where Heather’s current business venture partner waited.

  Col Owen ran a tan hand ov
er his hair and offered her that genuine smile he carried with him everywhere. He’d always reminded her of a surfer and she’d never quite fathomed why he’d chosen Hillside to settle down.

  He couldn’t exactly surf the South Bosque River.

  “Col,” Heather said and offered him a hand.

  He shook it twice, then let go and puffed out his cheeks. “Mornin’ Heather. You’ll have to forgive me. I’m a little nervous today.”

  “Nervous? Why?”

  “I’ve come to ask you a favor. Both you and Amy,” he said.

  Ames’ eyes widened. Clearly, she hadn’t realized she was involved in whatever this was. They both sat down at the table. Amy folded her arms and studied Col, Heather crossed her ankles and did the same.

  “What’s up?” Heather asked.

  “Man, when you two look at me I feel trouble on the horizon,” he said.

  “Hey, that’s not fair. We’re not trouble on the horizon. We’re trouble right now. Wham! In your face.” Amy clicked her fingers and Col chuckled.

  “First off, let me say how happy I am with our business agreement. I want to thank you, Heather. The Owen Tea Shop is doing just great. Just great. It’s the reason I was able to propose to Mona. We can afford to get married now.”

  Col and Mona deserved all the happiness in the world. She’d dealt with an ex-husband who hadn’t treated her well and then almost been accused of his murder.

  “And that brings me to the reason I’m here,” he said. Col cleared his throat. “We’re organizing the wedding. We want to make it a spring wedding, you know? Make it gorgeous for Mona. She’s in charge of almost everything and it’s driving her crazy.”

  “All right. So you need our help,” Heather said. She’d be more than willing to help.

  “I do. We do. I’d like to ask you to cater the desserts for the wedding,” Col said. “Mona wanted to talk about a special type of donut for it. Would that be possible?”

  “Oh, wonderful. Yes, of course. I’d love to cater the wedding,” Heather said. “I’ll have to organize a time to have a chat with both of you together.”