Birthday Sprinkle Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 37

by Susan Gillard

  “Camilla’s trying to find her father. She’s convinced that he’s withholding his inheritance or his estate or something. I helped her track him down to Hillside. That you’re here is just a happy coincidence.” Investigator Lemon spread his arms and his suit jacket stretched at the seams – he’d sown a patch onto one elbow.

  “Her father’s estate,” Heather said. Sebastian hadn’t struck her as the type of man who had an estate.

  “That’s right. She was abandoned as a child. Left with her mother. She’s pretty upset about it, but –”

  “Thank you for your time, Mr. Lemon.” Heather slipped her arm through Amy’s and marched her back to the car. She had to get this information to Ryan.

  Chapter 9

  Heather hovered behind the coffee machine in Donut Delights, her finger halfway to the silver button above the cup tray and metal spouts. People strode past, up and down the street outside the store, destinations in their minds.

  A few of them entered the store and sat down to be served by the ever-attentive Emily.

  Amy nudged her elbow. “What’s wrong?”

  “Ryan’s late,” Heather said. She pressed the button at last and then another one. Hot brown liquid sluiced from the spouts into the two white mugs on the rack. One for Ames and one for herself.

  Eva sat at her table in the front of the store and flipped through another issue of the Hillside Reporter.

  “You’re worried about the name, aren’t you?” Amy asked.

  “What name?”

  “Hillside’s Private Eye,” Amy replied. “It’s better than the name they gave me.”

  “What? What name did they give you?” Heather asked, and her focus sharpened and switched to her best friend’s face.

  Amy grimaced. “Gal Pal. They call me the Gal Pal. Not assistant or protégé. I’m just the Gal Pal.”

  “Wait a second, you knew about the Private Eye name thing?” Heather asked, and lifted the mugs from the grate. She placed them beside her bronzed out old timey cash register. “You knew?”

  “Of course,” Ames said. “Everybody knows. I’m pretty sure Lilly knows. They’ve been calling you that for ages.”

  “How many ages?” Heather asked.

  “Weeks.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I thought you knew,” Amy replied. “And I didn’t want to bring it up and then have to talk about being your Gal Pal. I think they stole the nickname from Friends. You know, the episode where Joey is at the –”

  The bell above the front door tinkled and Detective Ryan Shepherd entered the store.

  “Finally,” Heather breathed, and pushed thoughts of Private Eyes and Gal Pals from her mind. She waved her husband over and put another cup on the steel grate beneath the spouts. “Coffee?”

  “Espresso,” Ryan replied.

  “Rough day?” Amy asked.

  “Every day is rough when you’re dealing with Hoskins. He left chocolate smudges on some of the case files. And he denied it. Idiot.” Ryan massaged his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Nah, that’s not fair.”

  Heather didn’t give her input. She’d never had a great opinion of Ryan’s lazy partner.

  “You wanted to see me?” Ryan asked.

  Heather handed him the cup of espresso. “Yes. I’ve got some interesting information for you. Apparently, Camilla hired a private investigator to find Sebastian. This Investigator Lemon guy says she’s furious Sebastian abandoned her as a child and she wants her inheritance.”

  Ryan tossed back the espresso. He set down the small, porcelain cup and narrowed his eyes. “Well, that’s interesting. Couple that with the extortion letter we found in the old guy’s apartment and I might just be able to get it.”

  “Get what?” Amy asked.

  Heather and Ryan stared into each other’s eyes. “It will take time, though. To get the results,” Ryan said. He brushed off his shirt. “A few days if I lean on them a bit.”

  “Lean on who?” Amy’s head swiveled from Heather to Ryan and back again.

  “It’s a lead, though,” Heather replied.

  Ryan nodded once, then leaned across the counter and pecked Heather on the cheek. “Love you.”

  “Me more,” Heather replied.

  “Oh sure, don’t tell me anything. I’m just the Gal Pal.” Amy straightened her apron in a fit of mock rage.

  Ryan made for the door before it could transform into the real kind.

  “Relax, Ames. Ryan’s going to get Camilla’s DNA and test it. The DNA from the blood on the floor obviously belonged to Sebastian Holland. If we can match Camilla’s DNA to his, and confirm he’s her father, then we’ll know if her story checks out.”

  “And if it doesn’t?” Amy asked.

  Heather hadn’t considered that scenario just yet. If Camilla was Sebastian’s long lost daughter, she might have had motive to murder him. But if she wasn’t… “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  Chapter 10

  Heather took a bite of her Birthday Sprinkle Donut and squeezed her eyes shut. The white chocolate glaze melted on the tongue and swirled through her mouth. Sprinkles crunched between her teeth, little bursts of flavor, and the lighter than air donut base sent her straight to heaven.

  “Ames, this has to be one of the best batches I’ve tasted,” Heather said.

  “We’ve been working overtime in the kitchen to make sure they’re perfect for the party on Sunday,” Amy replied, and sat back in her chair beside Eva. Her triumphant smile lit up the half-empty interior of Donut Delights.

  The lunch rush had just ended and they had a few moments of respite to plan Lilly’s party before the pre-dinner crowd bustle through the door.

  Heather chased down the last of her donut with some coffee. She reorganized the special, pink cardboard folder on the glass topped table, then opened it. A to-do list sat on top of a small stack of papers.

  “What’s left?” Amy asked.

  “Well, I’ve sent an invite list out to all Lilly’s friends at the children’s shelter, so that’s done, at least. And the cake is ordered.”

  “I’ll pick that up for you, dear,” Eva said. “I’m sure you’ll have lots of last minute preparations to take care of on the day.”

  “You’re a lifesaver, Eva. I didn’t want to ask Amy in case she ate it before she got back to the store,” Heather replied.

  “I’m not that bad,” Amy said. She shrugged. “Okay, I can see why you’d say that.”

  Heather chuckled and turned her gaze back to the list. “And the venue is obviously sorted out. I’ve just got to organize Lilly’s birthday present and some of the decorations.”

  “Balloons? Streamers?” Amy asked.

  “Both. Preferably dinosaur themed,” Heather said. “Oh, and I’ll have to organize transport for all those guests who don’t have a means of getting here.” She whipped out a pen and wrote that down at the bottom of the list.

  Eva picked up her copy of the Hillside Reporter and flipped it open. She disappeared behind the pages as she did every day.

  “Staying updated, Eva?” Heather asked.

  “Yes, of course,” the old woman replied, then shifted the paper aside. “Hillside’s Private Eye.” She winked at Heather, then nudged Ames. “And Gal Pal Amy Givens.”

  “Cringe,” Amy said, and sank in her seat. “Gosh, I’m never going to live that one down. Jamie’s already teased me about it.”

  “Jamie, right. Is he still coming to the party?” Heather asked.

  “If he’s invited.”

  “Of course he’s invited. He’s your significant other.”

  “He’s not my other. I mean not significant. I don’t know how to explain it,” Amy replied, and flapped her hands around. “Could we just focus on the party? Or the orders? What’s happening with the website?”

  “All set up and raring to go,” Heather said. “Online orders have already increased, judging by the amount of boxes we ship out daily. But you know that. Ni
ce subject change.”

  Amy blushed and focused on the donut on the plate in front of her. She swept it up and gobbled down a few bites.

  “Heather,” Eva said, and folded her newspaper in half. She put it down on the glass top. “Heather, dear.”

  “Yes?”

  “What was that building you said that dead man lived in?”

  “He disappeared from it,” Heather said. She still wanted to believe there was a minute possibility their missing victim might turn up alive. “The Fierro Building. Named after Mr. Fierro.”

  “I thought that might be the case,” Eva said. She tapped a small block in the newspaper, filled with compacted typed writing. “Take a look at this announcement.”

  Amy narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure you’re not secretly an investigator, Eva? I think they should come up with a nickname for you too.”

  “Oh heavens. Like what?”

  “The Newspaper Comber,” Amy announced.

  “That’s a name to strike fear into hearts,” Eva replied, and patted Amy on the arm. “I think I’ll stick with Mrs. Schneider for now.”

  “I’d rather be the Newspaper Comber than Gal Pal,” Amy grumbled.

  Heather picked up the paper and scanned the block of text. She inhaled, sharply.

  “What’s wrong?” Amy asked.

  “The building. The Fierro Building is condemned,” Heather said. “What’s the date of this paper?”

  “It’s today’s paper,” Eva said, and pursed her lips. “I only ever read the latest news, dear, otherwise what’s the point?”

  “It’s condemned but there are still people living in it,” Heather said. “Unless they’ve been kicked out in the last few hours. This is weird. This is impossible. How can it be scheduled for demolition but there are people still living there?”

  Amy and Eva exchanged a glance, both frowning and without answers.

  The gentle clink of cups and saucers filled their silence.

  This might have something to do with Sebastian’s disappearance. Perhaps, Fierro had sent Camilla to deal with him. Or he’d managed to sneak out here himself and back in time not to be missed.

  No, Houston was hours away. It wouldn’t have been possible and Hillside didn’t have an airport.

  “Are you all right?” Eva asked.

  Heather didn’t answer. Her eyes danced back and forth in her skull, desperate for an answer which wouldn’t materialize.

  The building was condemned. That explained the dripping and damp patches in Kev’s home, but surely it couldn’t be that bad. Unless, someone wanted to cover up the evidence.

  And who would have the power to order the demolition of a building just like that? Mr. Fierro? Did he have connections with the city council or the –

  “Heather?” Eva touched her arm.

  “Don’t bother,” Amy said, and plucked the newspaper from Heather’s hands. “We’re just blurry shapes to her now. She’ll tune back in when she’s figured out whatever it is that’s making her hyperventilate.”

  Heather blinked twice. Someone wanted to cover up the evidence. That had to be the answer. They couldn’t let the demolition go ahead.

  Chapter 11

  “I don’t want to use a phrase from a Disney movie,” Amy said. “But let it go. Okay? You’ve been staring into space for the past five minutes. Lilly’s going to be back soon and we won’t be able to talk about your case.”

  Heather dragged Dave into her lap and stroked his furry head. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the demolition, the condemnation of the Fierro Building, was planned. There was a reason for everything.

  Dave wagged his tail and thumped it into the sofa cushions.

  “Everything all right in there?” Eva called down the hall. The clatter of pots and pans – Lilly in the kitchen, preparing movie night treats – traveled along with her voice.

  “Fine,” Amy called back, and stroked a purring Cupcake. The kitten had finally forgiven Amy for her harsh comments. “Although, I’m not sure how much longer I can take sitting with a zombie for a best friend.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just so confused about the case. Not confused, no, that’s not the right word. Perplexed?”

  “Why?” Amy asked.

  “Ugh, there are so many factors,” Heather said, and scratched Dave between the ears. Stroking her doggy dearest always calmed her nerves. “Firstly, we don’t have a body.”

  “That is creepy,” Amy said. “But didn’t Ryan say that there was enough evidence to suggest that it was a murder.”

  “Yeah. But I can’t help thinking that maybe, just maybe, we might find Sebastian alive. I’d really like one of my cases to end happily,” Heather said. “I s’pose that’s too much to ask.”

  Amy sighed and stopped patting Cupcake. The kitty took offense to the lack of attention and batted her wrist. Amy resumed stroking her soft white fur. “Heather, you’ve always relied on two things in your investigations. The facts and your sleuthin’ sense. Just follow those.”

  Heather bobbed her head up and down. “I guess. Those dogs are missing too. Surely, they would’ve turned up somewhere. If they’re lost, starving, then the clock is ticking.”

  “You don’t think the killer might’ve –”

  “No,” Heather said, and raised her free palm. She pushed it outward. “I refuse to believe that. I won’t even think about that.”

  “So, a murder, a missing body and two lost pooches. What else? One neighbor who watched too much TV and another who went fishing and was tired of waiting for the damp to be fixed,” Amy said. “Hardly motives for murder.”

  “That depends on how sane the murderer is. You forgot Camilla Wyatt. She’s up to something and it definitely involves Sebastian. Or it involved him. Ugh, I don’t know which is right.”

  “No DNA results yet?” Amy asked. She grabbed her mug of hot chocolate from the coffee table and lifted it to her lips.

  “Not yet. I think the earliest they’ll come back by is tomorrow,” Heather said. She lifted both hands this time and rubbed her eyes, furiously. “Ames, I don’t know anymore. These cases are taking their toll and I’ve got so much to worry about.”

  “Like what?” Amy asked.

  “My family. The store. I started Donut Delights and I want to keep it. I love that store. I love the donuts and the people, and I just feel like I never have enough time there. I’m always relying on my assistants,” she said. She huffed a short laugh which didn’t hold much mirth. “There I go again. I swear, I’ve probably complained about this exact thing every week.”

  “You’re too guilty,” Amy said. “And I promise, once I’ve finished studying for my private investigator’s license, I’ll be able to help out more. You could send me to fetch things or interview people, and focus more on the store.”

  “That’s the thing, though. I want to focus on the store. But I want to help solve crimes. I want to be the perfect mother to Lilly. I want it all,” Heather said.

  “You’re going to burn out at this rate,” Amy replied. “But it won’t help worrying about it.”

  Dave launched himself off Heather’s lap and scraped his clipped claws against the lap of her jeans. “Ouch.” She smoothed her pants. “I don’t know what to get Lilly for her birthday either.”

  “I can help with that.” Lilly popped her head around the corner, grinning from ear to ear. “I know exactly what I want.”

  Thank goodness they hadn’t discussed anything party related. It was meant to be a surprise.

  “What do you want, hon?” Heather asked.

  Lilly strode into the living room, armed with a bowl of fresh popcorn. Eva followed her in, carrying cookies on a tray. They placed the goodies on the coffee table.

  “I would really like a typewriter,” Lilly said, at last.

  “A what?” Amy snorted. Cupcake meowed at the noise.

  “I’m serious,” Lils said. “I’d love to have a typewriter. I’m turning 12 and I really want to start writing stories that other kids m
y age will like.”

  “What kinds of stories, dear?” Eva asked.

  “Well, stories about a dinosaur detective,” Lilly replied, and bowed her head. “It’s silly, I know, but –”

  “Are you kidding? That’s awesome!” Amy clapped her hands. “That sounds really interesting.”

  Pride swelled in Heather’s chest. Lilly had come through hard times and joined their family. She’d made every morning special and had truly risen to every challenge given to her.

  And now this.

  “A typewriter,” Heather said.

  “Yeah. If that’s okay, mom,” Lilly replied, and wrung her hands in front of herself.

  Dave barked and trotted back into the room. He sat down beside Lilly’s ankle and gave it a few licks.

  “It’s perfect,” Heather replied.

  Lilly joggled up and down on the spot and squeaked her excitement. “I can’t wait for my birthday!”

  Chapter 12

  The exhausted faces of her assistants were lit by the downlights in the store. Each one lined or pale, chins balanced in their palms, or heads drooping on weary necks.

  “It’s almost time for the party,” Heather said, in a clear voice.

  Amy shimmied her shoulders and shook out her arms.

  “And we’ve had more orders for the Birthday Sprinkle Donut than we have for the Choc Revolution Donuts. That’s saying a lot.” Those had sold really well. Chocolate always did. “We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us today.”

  “I’d be happy to start work by making everyone a cup of coffee,” Jung said, and hopped up from his seat.

  Groans of approval came from every corner of the store. Maricela raised her head from her arms and gave him a thumbs up.

  “All right,” Heather said. “While Jung’s busy with that, let’s talk orders. I’ve got several dozen which have to go out today. We’re catering a wedding next week, too.”

  Everyone snapped upright.

  “A wedding?” Angelica asked, and her liquid brown eyes filled with delight.

  Emily whipped the cap off her pen and scribbled notes on her Steno pad, even though Heather hadn’t given them any details yet.