Heather laughed in spite of the situation. “Hey, I told you not to come along. You can always wait in the car.”
“And leave you out here on your own? I don’t think so.” Amy shook her head. Dave barked and licked her face to cheer her up. “All right, Dave, all right, I’m fine. Anyways, neither of us should be here. Ryan and the men in blue are more suited to spelunking.”
Amy kept pace with Heather and scanned between the trees. She kept her voice low, just in case Pops Polinski decided to pop out with an ax.
“You’re right about that. I’m the first to admit when I’ve made a mistake, and this is one of them. This is feeling less mystery and more Deliverance by the second.”
“You just had to say Deliverance,” Amy replied. “Seriously?”
Heather laughed again, then rammed her mouth shut.
“What was that?” Amy whispered. Dave perked up in her arms, ears flicking up and down at a furious speed. A crackle in the underbrush, the snapping of a twig. Had that been a footstep?
Heather hunched over and beckoned for her friend to follow. Amy assumed a similar position, and together they crept towards the source of the noise. The river rushed nearby, drowning out the snapping of twigs underfoot, and Heather’s silent ‘ouch’ as she struck her toe against a rock.
They crouched behind a tree, then peered around the trunk.
A cabin sat to one side, a tiny construction of wood planks, battered from the weather and baked white beneath the sun. Truthfully, it was more of a shed than a cabin. Heather grinned and pointed at Mudd’s makeshift map, then wriggled her eyebrows at Amy.
“See?” She whispered. “I told you it was good.”
Amy didn’t hear her or pretended not to. Heather crept towards the worn shed, but Amy’s arm snaked out and caught her before she could get any closer.
“What if he’s there?” She mouthed, pointing at the shed.
Heather brandished her Taser, clicked it on and kept her finger on the button. “Let’s go,” she said.
They stalked around the tree, Dave poking his nose out and sniffing the air for signs of danger, then hurried to the shed, skipping around logs and massive boulders. Heather didn’t know much about fishing, but she doubted that Pops would’ve caught anything in the fast moving water which slid by the banks.
They reached the shed, and Heather placed her palm against the wooden door. She jerked back, and Amy let out a shallow shriek of alarm.
Heather burst out laughing, then showed her bestie the splinter which dug into her palm. “Relax, for heaven’s sake,” she said. “Everything’s going to be fine. This isn’t a horror movie.”
“Coulda fooled me,” Ames replied, eyeing the line of trees, suspiciously.
Heather tried again, this time grasping the rusted knob, and turning it. The door squealed open, and both women winced and shared a glance. Heather fumbled around in her pocket, brought out her cell and switched on the flashlight.
The inside of the cabin was thrown into sharp relief. Fishing rods stacked against the far wall, a tackle box to one side, a spool of fishing line on a mottled table and –
“Look,” Amy said, breathlessly. “Isn’t that?”
Heather bent and picked up the piece of paper, then studied it, pressing her nose to the page in her haste to absorb the information. “My grandmother’s recipe for Candied Maple Bacon donuts.”
“That’s it then. He did it. He must’ve brought the wire back here, along with the recipe,” Amy said, lowering her voice, even though there wasn’t a soul out here to witness their discovery.
“But why? Why would he bring a recipe from the book?” Heather asked, then flipped the page over to check the recipe on the back. “Oh!”
“What is it?”
“There’s a footprint on the back and a piece of gum,” she replied. “He didn’t bring it back on purpose. It stuck to his foot and came along for the ride.” Heather dropped the page and dusted off her hands. “We’d better call Ryan and tell him what’s happened.”
“Right. Are we done with spelunking for the day?” Amy asked, backing out of the shed and shuddering, involuntarily.
It was a pretty creepy setup. Maybe, it just seemed that way to them because they’d expected to find Pops Polinski out here. Heather followed her bestie out into the setting sun and frowned.
“Where is he?” She wondered, out loud.
A branch cracked and movement rustled the bushes along the riverbank nearby.
Amy’s eyes went round, Dave barked, and she covered her snout with her hand.
“The trees!” Heather hissed. “Quickly, now.”
They darted back the way they’d come, not daring to look over their shoulders in case they witnessed Pops Polinski himself, chasing them down with fishing wire.
Amy skidded around the trunk nearest to her and pressed her back to it. Heather did the same with a tree beside hers. Slowly, ever so slowly, they peeked out, blinking sweat from their eyes.
A badger stood outside the shed, snuffling around in the dirt.
“A badger,” Heather said, then cracked up laughing. “A badger.” It was a nervous laugh, and it was infectious.
Amy giggled too, then shook her head. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this, after all.”
“C’mon, let’s go back to the car. We’ve got to message Ryan and let him know what happened.” Heather said, and led the way, her heart still pounding in her ears.
Chapter 17
“So, let me get this straight,” Ryan said, leaning against the side of his cruiser. “You three thought it was a good idea to go chasing after a murderer in the middle of a forest around dusk?”
“No,” Amy replied, from her position just behind Heather’s car. “I mentioned that it wasn’t a good idea, several times.”
“She hardly stopped mentioning it all the way through, and it looks like she’s not about to stop now,” Heather said, then winked at her bestie.
They were surrounded by police cars, and officers marched past them striding down between the trees and towards the shed to process it. Already, they’d stuck up a yellow police line to block the path into the forest.
Dusk had settled on the ground, the purple glow a comfort to Heather’s senses. The heat of the day hadn’t dissipated entirely, and that warmth seeped through her cotton shirt and caressed her skin.
“You can’t be angry,” Heather said, “you practically gave me permission to investigate this.”
“I did no such thing. I might’ve suggested you ask a few questions, but at no point did I suggest you go running off into the bushes in search of a murderer. That’s pushing it, Heather Shepherd.”
“Hey, don’t you last name me,” she replied, jabbing her finger through the air.
Ryan’s somber expression cracked, and he flashed a grin at her. “I am tasked with escorting you ladies, and you sir,” he said, wriggling his eyebrows at Dave, “back into Hillside and to your homes.”
“What about Pops Polinski?” Amy asked, crouching beside Heather’s car to stroke Dave again. He wagged his tail at her, then trotted off to pee against a cop car’s tire.
“We’ve got a warrant out for his arrest, but –”
“Pops Polinski is missing.” Detective Davidson strolled out of the forest, towards them, his police hat tucked under his arm. “Missing and presumed to be on the run. We’ve spoken with Plum, and she’s given us some useful information. We should be able to track him down with ease.”
“No offense,” Heather replied, “but that doesn’t exactly inspire me with confidence. You didn’t even investigate him or his activities until today.”
Davidson blinked at her. Amy stifled a small smile and wandered off to the front of the car, pretending to examine the hub caps.
“I’m serious. You questioned me, half accused me of committing the perfect murder, then ignored all the relevant evidence in the case.” Heather folded her arms and tapped her foot in the long grass.
Davidson opened and sh
ut his mouth, a fish out of water. He might as well have flopped around, gasping for air. Ryan didn’t jump to his defense since he was clearly irritated that the detective had limited him during the investigation.
“I, uh, I –” Davidson stammered.
“Save it for the judge,” Heather said, even though it didn’t make any sense whatsoever. She’d always wanted to say that.
This time, Amy did burst out laughing.
“I think it’s time I got you ladies back to Hillside,” Ryan said, then walked to Heather’s car and opened her door for her. “I’ll be right in front of you, drive slow and stick on my tail, all right? The country roads aren’t as forgiving at night.”
Amy collected Dave, and they all bundled into their respective cars, and drove off into the evening, leaving Davidson to stare at their tail lights, mouth still flapping in the night breeze.
Heather couldn’t help watching him in the rearview mirror until he was out of sight.
“That was an adventure,” she said.
“More like a horror story,” Amy replied. “Pity they didn’t catch him, though. On one hand, I’m super glad that he wasn’t anywhere near the shed thing. On the other, I’m disappointed that he’s not behind bars for what he did.”
“Yeah, Jelly seemed a little unstable, but no one deserves that. No one.” To be killed by their father? Crazy.
They drove in silence for a while, focusing on the road and the flash of car lights passing by. Clouds scudded across the crescent moon, blocking it from sight, then revealing it again. Nature’s grand peekaboo game.
“Peekaboo game,” Heather said, then shook her head. “I must be tired.” She glanced across at Amy and Dave, then smiled. They were both fast asleep, Amy’s hand resting on doggy Dave’s back.
He snored and twitched, racing through imaginary fields of donuts.
Ryan laid on the horn and braked in front of her, then switched on her lights and siren.
Heather rammed her foot on the brakes, grunting from the force of it.
“What?” Amy asked, bleary eyed. “I’m awake. Don’t tell grandma about the pie.”
“What pie?”
“Cherries and cream,” she replied, then blinked. “Huh? What’s Ryan doing?”
Heather clicked one her emergency lights and squinted through the windscreen.
Her husband dashed out of his car and towards, the side of the road, then disappeared into the line of trees.
“Maybe nature called?” Amy suggested.
“No, no,” Heather whispered. “Wait a second. Where are we?”
“Just outside Hillside. Look, there’s the welcome sign,” she said, and pointed.
Heather didn’t look at it. Instead, she focused on the trees, Texas Ash, and Pecan, others she didn’t recognize. She gasped. “We’re directly in line with the trailer park. It’s on the other side of these trees.”
“Do you think he saw something? Pops?” Amy asked.
“We’ll just have to wait and see. Roll down your window a little, so we can hear,” Heather said.
Amy widened her eyes and shook her head, once. “I think I’ll pass on that,” she replied, Dave snuffling around in her lap, refusing to be roused from his slumber. “Enough excitement for one night.”
“Ames,” Heather groaned, then rolled down her window instead. She craned her neck and listened out the window. “Please, no gunshots, please.”
“There!” Amy yelled. “He’s got something. Something’s happening.”
Two silhouettes appeared, one tall and walking straight, the other hunched over, dragging his feet.
“It’s Ryan,” Heather said and exhaled a long, thin stream of relief. “He’s got Pops.”
Ryan strode towards his cruiser, marching the old man ahead of him, cuffs firmly clamped on his wrists. Heather’s husband opened the back door of his car, fed Pops Polinski into the interior, then slammed it shut and brushed off his hands.
He turned and hurried to Heather’s window, and she rolled it down all the way.
“Well done,” Heather said. “You got him.”
“Yeah, looked like he was hiding out just beneath the trees. I think he planned on hitchhiking outta here,” Ryan replied. “Look, babe, I’ve got to get him down to the station and have him arraigned, are you two ladies going to be fine on your own?”
“Of course,” Heather said.
Ryan swept down and brushed his lips against hers, gave a final wave, then jogged back to his car and got inside.
“Your husband, the hero,” Amy said, gesturing grandly.
“Right?”
“And now, we shall return to your abode and commence watching a DVD,” Amy proclaimed, in a terrible British accent.
“Just how tired are you?” Heather asked.
“Hey, I’m not the one who suggested the spelunking session. Now, are we going to go back to your house and watch Beaches or not?”
Heather snorted. She met Amy’s gaze and challenged her bestie for a second. Then started the engine. “Sure, why not?” She needed a donut and a good cry session after this week.
Chapter 18
“All right, everyone, gather round. Don’t forget your donuts,” Heather said, calling to the small group of her favorite people, gathered in front of the counter of Donut Delights.
Two days had passed since Pops Polinksi’s arrest, and Ryan had guaranteed that she’d have her grandmother’s recipe book back in no time. Apparently, it wasn’t technically related to the case, because Jelly had stolen it of her own accord.
She’d mistakenly believed that doing so, would force Geoff to ask her out again, or that was what her rival donut store owner claimed.
Heather bit her bottom lip and glanced at the wall behind her. Projected on it, was an image of a blank browser web page. This was it, the countdown to going live on the internet.
Amy grinned at her nearby and raised a salute with her pistachio covered donut. Eva sipped from a cup of coffee, cheeks flushed from the excitement and the balmy evening air which flowed through the open door.
“I asked you all here today, because each of you, in your own special way, has contributed to Donut Delights.” Heather sniffed and swallowed a lump in her throat. She’d sworn she wouldn’t cry tonight. “Ryan,” she said, turning to her handsome detective. “Without you, I wouldn’t be the person I am today, and I can’t thank you enough for that and all your understanding,” she said, then kissed him on the cheek, his stubble scraping against her lips.
“Eva, you’ve been my rock throughout the years. You give me advice when I need it and encourage me on my dark days.”
Eva sniffed and brought a handkerchief, then dabbed at her eyes. “Oh, dear,” she said, then chuckled.
“Amy,” Heather said, then stopped there. She didn’t have words to describe what her best friend meant to her. She didn’t need to have the words, except maybe, for one. “Amy, all I have to say is this: Beaches.”
Amy burst into tears. She took a bite of her donut and chewed, messing crumbs down her designer blouse and not caring one bit.
“Ken, Jung, Angelica and Maricela. Wow. That’s all I can say. You guys have made Donut Delights what it is today. Your friendly faces are what brings the customers in each day.”
“No, your donuts do that,” Ken said.
“Don’t even get me started on you,” Heather replied, then clicked a few buttons on the laptop. “Ken was the one who suggested this little project. Thanks to his excellent photos, we’ll soon be able to sell donuts across the state.”
Here came the moment of the truth. “Is everyone ready?”
“On the count of three,” Amy called out. “Three,” she said.
“Two,” the others said, joining in, a chorus of support for the Donut Delights website.
“One!”
Heather clicked the button and the Donut Delights page opened and was projected onto the wall behind the register. Gorgeous, full-color images of their donut creations appeared. A slider
switching them out in a cycle which set Heather’s mouthwatering.
The room erupted into cheers and thunderous applause. Ken whooped and punched the air.
“You call that a website?” A man yelled.
All noise ceased, immediately. Faces, crumpling into confusion, turned to find the source of negativity.
Geoff Lawless stood, framed in the doorway, fists at his sides and glaring up at the screen. “It’s ugly. It’s horrible.”
“I’m sorry, Geoff,” Heather replied, calmly, “but this is a private party. You’re going to have to leave.”
Ryan ground his teeth beside her, a terrible habit, but one he rarely practiced unless Heather had been insulted.
“I didn’t come to join your stupid little party. I just came to tell you to watch your back,” Geoff said, then glanced at Ryan. “I mean, with regards to donuts and stuff.”
“This is a big week for you, Geoff,” Heather replied. “You’ve spoken a lot more than you ever have in the past. Why waste any more words?”
“Burn,” Jung murmured.
Geoff stood there a moment longer, staring fire at the website on the back wall. “Your reign is over, Heather.” Then he turned and disappeared into the night.
Slowly, the chatter started up again, along with the donut chomping and cheers for the new website. Heather wasn’t bothered by Geoff’s threats. She’d been running Donut Delights for years.
Heather glanced back at the screen and smiled. Tonight, nothing could bother her.
Donut Delights was live.
THE END
A letter from the Author
To each and every one of my Amazing readers: I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think by leaving a review!
I’ll be releasing another installment in two weeks so to stay in the loop (and to get free books and other fancy stuff) Join my Book club.
Stay Curious,
Susan Gillard
Pistachio Lemon Glazed Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery- Book 12 (Donut Hole Mystery) Page 6
