“Thanks, Ken,” Heather said and sank back into her chair. She leaned her elbows on her desk, then grasped her forehead and massaged with the tips of her fingers.
The door clicked closed a short while later, and she glanced up again. Ken had left, but Amy hovered by the door, pacing back and forth her fancy boots – Amy’s weakness was shoes – clicking on the boards.
“Looks like you’ve adopted my sleuthin’ gene,” Heather said. “Or the worrying one. They’re interchangeable.” She snorted a piggy laugh, then yawned, then sneezed.
Amy folded her arms and stared her down. “All right, that’s enough. We’re taking you home for a nap, murder or no murder.”
“The answer is always no murder, Amy. Remember that.”
“I’ll try,” Amy said, sauntering over, then grasping her beneath the elbow. “Now, come on. It’s sleepy time.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Heather replied. “But you’d better not have brought your Beaches DVD, or I’m driving straight back to the bakery.”
Amy sighed. “I can’t make any promises.”
Chapter 4
“You’re finally losing weight, Dave, you should be proud of yourself,” Heather said, walking their usual morning route. She hummed a song to keep them company and to drive off thoughts of Jelly and her grandmother’s recipe book.
Why had the young woman stolen it? She’d been twenty something years old and a clerk. No passion for baking. No vendetta against Heather. But she had known Geoff.
That had to be the link.
Dave barked and tugged at the end of the leash to get her moving again.
“Now, we’re into walking, eh? No more whining about donuts.”
The magic word had been said. Dave was officially on high alert. He wagged his tail in frantic circles, glancing left and right.
“One track mind,” Heather murmured. Then turned the corner and continued past the salon and towards the end of the street. She paused at the intersection, weighing up the options.
“Should we try a different route today, Dave?” She asked.
Cars drove by, some puttering and others cruising along beneath the azure blue sky. It was the perfect day for a walk. A crisp breeze – none of that balmy wind – flapped the collar of Heather’s shirt, and the sunshine warmed her back. Not too hot, not too windy.
A Goldilocks day.
Heather smiled and turned left because it was the road less traveled. And, coincidentally, it led past the trailer park where Jelly had lived. Oh yeah, Heather had researched it all right.
After Amy had fallen asleep on the couch – cue credits of Beaches – she’d woken up, made herself a midnight cup of coffee and set to work on the case.
Heather wouldn’t interfere. She’d document. She’d take a peek around, and if she happened to discover the truth in the process, that’d be a happy coincidence.
Investigation without the breaking and entering.
Dave glanced back at her and yapped. This was out of the ordinary, and he wanted to know why, the impetuous hound.
“Keep your nose clean, kiddo,” she said. If dogs could’ve rolled their eyes, Dave would’ve been a professional at it. She could feel the disdain emanating off his furry hide in waves.
Dave didn’t like keeping his nose clean.
Heather flapped the leash and walked on, glancing at the trees on either side. The tar was pocked with marks, those marks became potholes, and the potholes became a dirt road which wound through a forest.
Dave padded along, panting slightly. Birds swooped through the trees overhead, chirping and singing carefree melodies. Leaves susurrated, lulling Heather into serenity.
“Now, this is the life.”
“What are you doing here?” A reedy voice called from the shade of the trees.
Heather stopped in her tracks, and Dave barked, then growled and kicked his back legs, spraying dirt against her ankles.
“Who’s there?” Heather asked.
“None of your business who’s there. I’m here, and you’re there, even though you shouldn’t be. Here and there don’t matter, relatively speaking.” An old man peered around a tree trunk. Wrinkles crinkled at the corners of his downturned lips.
“I don’t understand,” Heather replied.
“You’re getting too close to my home.”
Heather eyed the tree, then raised an eyebrow at the grumpy, balding guy.
“Not that,” he said, jerking his thumb towards the tree. “There.” He pointed towards a battered and distinctly rusty trailer at the end of the road. “You get outta here.”
“The last I heard, this was an open community,” Heather replied. Dave backed her up with another growl.
They might not agree on donut consumption habits, but she could always count on Dave to have her back.
The old man eyed her dog, sucking his teeth noisily. “I know who you are,” he said. “I’ve heard all about your nasty sweets. You got no cause making them nasty sweets. Fish is all a person needs. Fish and potatoes.”
“Who are you?” Heather asked, for the sake of dodging the insult.
“None of her business,” the man mumbled, then met her gaze again. “None of your business, you hoodlum!”
Heather burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. She hadn’t heard the word hoodlum in forever.
“Don’t you laugh at me, cow. You’ll regret laughing at me. I’m a very powerful man. Very powerful. You’ll regret this until the day you die.”
Heather’s laughter cut off. “Sir, I’m simply taking my dog for a walk. I didn’t mean to interfere with your daily routine.”
“You’re not walkin’. You are snooping!” The man strode towards her.
Dave dissolved into a flurry of warning barks and strained at the end of the leash.
“You control that mutt before he loses a paw.”
A car hooter honked behind them, and Heather jumped. Dave yelped, then resumed his tirade of barking.
A stark black SUV pulled up alongside them. The window buzzed down, and a youthful woman appeared, blonde hair styled to perfection and lips painted bright purple.
“Is my dad giving you trouble?” Plum Polinski asked.
Heather would recognize the businesswoman and her car anywhere. There’d been a hue and cry in Hillside when she’d rolled into town in that gas guzzler. People had quibbled about the carbon footprint of such a beast, talked behind their hands whenever Plum had driven past.
“No, I’m all right.”
“She’s gonna get off my property,” the old man, Pops Polinski, grunted. “Her and her ugly dog too.”
“Hey,” Heather said, “that was uncalled for.”
Dave barked agreement.
“Pops, I think it’s time for you to head back to your trailer,” Plum said, with a weary smile. Her make up might’ve been perfect, but there were cracks in the façade. Her eyes were red and puffy underneath the mascara and eyeliner.
“Long as she gets lost, I’ll go. Long as she gets lost,” Pops replied, then ambled off towards the trailer.
Plum watched him go, then turned to Heather. “I’ve got to drop off his groceries quick. Would you mind sticking around? I’d like to talk to you about something.”
“Uh, sure, okay,” Heather said.
“I’ll give you and your dog a ride back into town while we talk,” Plum said, then drove off without waiting for an answer, leaving Heather and Dave in a cloud of smoke and dirt.
Chapter 5
“Sorry about dad,” Plum said, eyes on the road. She glanced at Heather out of her peripherals, then patted her hair into place, though not a golden strand had strayed out of position.
Her flowery perfume wafted through the car interior, curling up Heather’s nostrils. She already had a headache – she’d always been sensitive to smell, and this particular scent was a blend of roses which brought back memories of her grandmother’s Turkish Delight.
“That’s all right,” Heather replied. She held Dav
e on her lap and stroked his back, then shifted on the leather seat. It squeaked beneath her, and she gave a tight laugh.
They were almost back in Hillside proper and Plum still hadn’t asked her a single question.
Jelly’s older sister grasped the steering wheel so hard, her knuckles turned white. She switched on her indicator and pulled over, wheels crunching on the gravel just short of the start of the tar road.
Heather cleared her throat. “Are you okay?” She asked.
Plum stared ahead, the engine still on, rumbling pleasantly, the exhaust spitting out fumes.
“Not really,” Plum replied, quietly. “Pops was already at the end of his tether before this happened, and now it’s gotten worse.”
“I’m sorry,” Heather said. She couldn’t say much else, other than that. Jelly’s death had come as a shock to everyone.
Plum shook her head, and her hairstyle stayed firmly in place, kind of like a blond helmet. “Pops keeps screaming about oil in his coffee. Or I’ll get a call from one of the local businesses to ask me to fetch him because he’s causing a scene.” She turned off the engine, then massaged her temples. “I don’t know how much more I can take.”
“It will get better,” Heather said. “This is just a tough time.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Plum said. Finally, she met Heather’s gaze, her bright green eyes slicing across the distance.
Heather shifted, and Dave snuggled closer to her tummy, tucking his snout against her blouse and huffing hot breaths against it.
“What happened?” Plum asked. “What did you see?”
“I, uh, shouldn’t you ask the cops about this? I’m not sure me telling you would be a good idea.” Heather hated the thought of rehashing the scene in Geoff’s store.
“Yeah, they told me the basics,” Plum replied, waving a hand. “But I want to know the details, from you. It’s my way of dealing with this. For closure.” The woman’s gaze had taken on a fiery quality, a burning desire to understand.
Heather touched the door handle.
Plum pressed a button on her dash, and the locks clicked down. “Heather, this is really important to me.”
Heather rolled her shoulders – usually, she was the one asking the questions – and forced an uncomfortable smile. “I just think –”
“Tell me,” Plum snapped. “Tell me, tell me!” She balled up her fists and smashed them against the steering wheel, accidentally hitting the horn.
They both jumped at the sound, then settled into an awkward silence.
“All I saw was her body on the floor, face down. Nothing else. I felt for her pulse and called 911 when I couldn’t find it.” Heather stroked Dave, over and over again, trying to calm herself and the situation.
“Oh Jelly,” Plum said, and her expression scrunched up. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she hiccupped. She used two fingers to dab beneath her eyes. “Messing up my makeup, ugh,” she whispered, then swallowed and looked at Heather. “Did you know she was strangled with fishing line?”
“My husband told me,” Heather replied. “He’s one of the homicide detectives.”
“I hear that you have some experience in these matters,” Plum said and grasped at the keys. She started the engine of the gas guzzler and patted the steering wheel almost like Heather patted Dave when he’d managed to keep off the donuts for more than a month.
“I have some experience, but not much. I just ask questions.” Already, the morning had given her several to ask.
Plum had gone from upset to angry to calm in the span of ten minutes. Grief did strange things to people, but there was something about her that didn’t feel right.
“Were you and Jelly close?” Heather asked.
Plum smacked her bright purple lips. “We were once. I guess that’s part of the reason I’m so frustrated. We weren’t talking at the time she died. Jelly and I went our separate ways when we were younger. I started working towards starting my own business, and she opted for staying home with Pops, something he’s never forgiven me for.” Plum’s tone turned bitter at the end. She tapped her purple tipped French Manicure on the steering wheel.
“I understand,” Heather said. “It’s now easy when a family grows apart. I’m just wondering why Jelly would’ve gone to Geoff’s new store, and I figured, as her sister, you’d have the best idea as to why that was.”
Plum stiffened. She glanced out the right window. “She had a crush on him,” she said, “that’s all I know.” Then she put the SUV in gear and sped off down the road, the wheels transitioning from the dirt to the smooth tar with a bump.
Plum glared ahead, clicked on her indicator, and then took a sharp left. “I’ll drop you off at your donut shop. That okay?”
Heather actually had to drop off Dave at home, first. “Sure,” she said, partly because it would be rude to tell Plum otherwise and partly because she wouldn’t bear the breakneck speed on the slightly longer route to her house.
Plum screeched to a halt in front of Donut Delights. Smoke drifted forward, the acrid scent of burnt rubber drowning out the perfume scent for a moment.
“Thanks,” Heather said, “I’ll see you around.”
Plum unlocked the doors and didn’t say goodbye.
Chapter 6
“She just drove off after that?”
Heather sighed and met Amy’s gaze. “If you call that driving. She tore off down the road and left me in a haze of smog. She acted weird throughout the conversation.”
Eva tinkled a laugh, picking up a donut, then taking a bite.
Amy and Heather looked at her. “What?” They asked, in unison.
Eva chewed hurried and touched her lips once then held the finger out.
She swallowed and said, “It’s just, you always seem to get yourself into these situations, dear. No matter what, even if you don’t want to investigate a murder, you’re drawn in by choice or not.”
“Eva’s right. It’s like people are drawn to you. They believe that you can help.”
Heather shrugged and glanced around Donut Delights. It was a quiet day for a change, probably because a lot of folks were back at work after the 4th of July celebrations. Mostly, they put in orders for takeaway donuts and coffee on days like these, rather than coming in to fetch them in person.
Ken waved at her from the counter and Maricela gave her a sweet smile. The two of them tapped away at the computer screen which dominated the glass top beside the register. A new addition to Donut Delights, their first computer system for processing orders.
“You’re going to take on this case, Heather, whether you want to admit it or not,” Amy said, lowering her voice – not that the elderly couple a table over could hear her anyway.
Heather looked from Amy, her best friend’s expression exuded hope, to Eva, who beamed back at her, then took a sip of coffee. “She’s right, dear. I shouldn’t encourage you to put yourself in harm’s way, but I feel that everything happens for a reason.”
“What do you mean?” Heather asked, picking up her cappuccino and taking a sip, cream and all.
“You were meant to rush over to Geoff’s new place, just like you were meant to find Jelly on the floor. Maybe, God wanted you to find her so that you can do the right thing for this case.”
Amy nodded enthusiastically. “Eva’s right. Besides, what was Jelly doing at Geoff’s store?”
“Plum went stiff as a board when I asked her. But she did say that Jelly had a crush on him.”
“So she stole your recipe book and gave it to him?” Amy asked. “That’s pretty suspicious. What if he asked her to steal it and when she arrived he got angry about something, maybe that she messed it up, and they fought. One thing led to another and, you know, it happened.”
“I don’t know. That’s a big assumption. I don’t have enough facts for that, yet.”
“Aha! You said, ‘yet,' that means you’re going to take the case,” Amy replied, twirling imaginary mustaches. “Heather Shepherd is at it again.”
�
��You’re putting me off,” she replied, slurping more of her cappuccino to bolster her senses. She still couldn’t get that rose smell out of her nose, even though Plum had dropped her off hours ago.
“What’s the next step?” Eva asked.
“Plum told me that Pops was senile and kept making scenes, before the murder even, which goes along with what Ken told me about him turning up at the bait and tackle store. He was super rude, too.”
“That’s one lead. Maybe they had a bad relationship,” Amy said and reached for a pistachio-sprinkled donut. She took a bite then moaned and chewed happily. “I mean, you never know.” She gestured with the donut.
“I don’t know what would ever possess a parent to harm their child,” Eva replied, shaking her head, wisps of her soft, light violet hair lifting.
“Then there’s Plum herself. She’s an anomaly, so strange. I couldn’t place her and neither could Dave. He didn’t hate her, but he didn’t like her either.” Dave was her compass for social interactions. If he liked a person, they generally turned out to be okay, if he didn’t… ugh, it never ended well.
“Maybe they had a sibling rivalry,” Amy replied, twiddling her fingers.
“Plum did say they’d grown apart since they were kids.” Heather sighed. “But the minute I mentioned Geoff she freaked out. Totally. It was bizarre. She started driving like a maniac to get rid of me.”
“Maybe she was in love with Geoff and her, and Jelly had this huge jealous blowout at the store,” Amy said, then grimaced. “This whole family hurting family thing sucks.”
“We should be used to it by now. There are some pretty shocking characters out there,” Heather replied.
The bell above the door tinkled behind them, and Heather turned in her seat.
Her husband strode into the store, and she smiled at him, lifted a hand to blow a kiss, and then froze.
Another detective was hot on his heels. This wasn’t a social visit then.
“Excuse me, ladies, I’ll be back in a sec,” she said, then rose from the wrought iron seat with its puffy cushion, and hurried to Ryan. She didn’t kiss him hello.
Pistachio Lemon Glazed Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery- Book 12 (Donut Hole Mystery) Page 2
