Sinister Sprinkles

by Jessica Beck

  I grabbed a good selection of donuts, and the two men sat down at the counter instead of taking one of the sofas near the window. From the looks of their overalls, I was infinitely glad of that. While the floors had been there forever and could take any mess they could throw at it, the couches and chairs were another matter altogether. At least there wasn’t much damage they could do to the vinyl stools.

  Earl managed to eat more donuts than Bob, something I never would have believed if I hadn’t seen it for myself.

  When they were finished, Bob threw a twenty-dollar bill on the counter and said, “Keep the change. We’ll be back later for more.”

  “That’s too much of a tip,” I said. These men worked hard for their money, and I didn’t want to take advantage of them, though I normally never protested when someone decided to leave us a tip, no matter what the size.

  “Ma’am, seeing your light on was worth fifty, so in a way, we’re robbing you.” He slapped his coworker on the back, and for a second, I thought Earl was going down from the force of the blow, but he managed to right himself at the last second.

  Bob asked him, “You ready?”

  Earl nodded, and after they were gone, I realized the entire time he’d been there, he’d only said one word.

  Emma came out from the kitchen with a dishtowel in her hands. “Was it my imagination, or did I hear voices out here?”

  “We had our first two customers,” I said. “Would you do me a favor and grab the mop?” The floor was puddled in places where they’d walked, and I wanted to get it all up before someone else came in and slipped. A lawsuit was the last thing I needed.

  “We should put newspapers down on the floor,” Emma said as she retrieved the mop.

  I took it from her, then asked, “Do you really think they’d help?”

  “Can it hurt?”

  “I guess not.” After the floor was dry, we laid a line of papers from the door to the display counter, before running out of newspaper.

  “That’s going to have to do,” I said.

  Outside, the plow was going up and down Springs Drive, knocking the snow cover into two walls of packed ice and snow on either side of the road. How could anyone get into my parking area with that wall blocking them? As I thought about it, the plow swung around, knocked the wall of snow down going into my parking area, and managed to plow it as well, though I don’t know how they were able to do it on such a tight radius. After that, they cleared the spaces open in front of my shop as well. I smiled when I realized I was the only one on Springs Drive who got that particular service. I didn’t care how much they protested, the next round of coffee and donuts was going to be on the house.

  As soon as they vanished up the road, a middle-aged man bundled up in a heavy jacket came in, shaking the snow from his dress boots once he was inside. When he took his hat off, I saw that his head was shaved, and he’d tried to make up for it with the bushiest black eyebrows I’d ever seen in my life.

  “Would you like some coffee?” I asked.

  “Yes, thank you. That would be great.”

  I poured him a cup, offered a donut, which he declined, then said, “You’re a brave soul, coming out on a morning like this.”

  “I’m in town because of the murder at the carnival yesterday. Do you know anything about it?”

  I said, “Sorry, I just heard what everybody else has.”

  He took a sip of coffee, and then asked, “And what exactly is that, if you don’t mind telling me? I really would like to know what folks around town are saying about it.”

  I shrugged. What could it hurt? “A woman named Darlene Higgins was dressed up like another resident, Muriel Stevens, and someone killed her, probably by mistake.”

  “Is that what the police think?” he asked after taking another sip of coffee.

  “That I couldn’t tell you. Now, do you mind me asking you a question?”

  “Go right ahead,” he said.

  “If you’re not with the police, why are you asking so many questions? Are you some kind of reporter?”

  He frowned. “Sorry, I should have introduced myself first thing. I’m Taylor Higgins. I was Darlene’s first cousin. Her last one too, I guess. There was just the two of us left out of the whole brood.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said.

  He nodded, and I could see his eyes start to well up with tears, though he shook them off. “Thank you for that. We were kind of close, so this has been tough to take. It was bad enough thinking someone killed her on purpose, but to die like that by accident? That’s just terrible.”

  “I don’t know if it’s true or not,” I said. “It’s just what some folks are saying.”

  “They probably know more than the police do,” he said. He finished his coffee, threw a pair of dollar bills on the counter, then said, “I knew it would be hard coming here, but I’m just having a tough time believing she’s gone.”

  “Again, I’m sorry about what happened,” I said.

  He waved a hand in the air, and then walked back out into the snow.

  * * *

  By six-thirty, we hadn’t had another customer.

  Emma poked her head out of the kitchen. “I just finished the dishes we’ve got so far. Can I grab a couch and take a nap?”

  “I don’t see why not,” I said.

  She smiled, threw her apron on the counter, and then headed for one of the couches in front of the donut shop. Emma had barely settled in when George came in, sporting heavily layered clothes and rosy cheeks.

  “Have you been out in the snow all morning?” I asked as he started shedding layers.

  “It’s kind of habit-forming, you know?”

  “I don’t see how,” I said.

  George sniffed the air, then he asked, “Is there any chance there’s fresh coffee?”

  “You’ve got it. How about some donuts, too?”

  “I might be able to handle a pumpkin one or two,” he admitted.

  Emma grabbed her apron. “I’ll get your order,” she said.

  “Stay there, I’ve got it covered.”

  She nodded her thanks, and I got George a fresh mug of coffee and two pumpkin donuts, one of his favorite flavors.

  As he took a great gulp, I asked, “Isn’t your friend going to miss his transportation on a day made for it?”

  “No, he told me I could use it as long as I wanted. I took it back to him an hour ago, but he’d never ridden it before, so he asked me to take him for a ride around town so he could get used to it. He hated it, can you imagine that?”

  “It’s not everyone’s cup of tea,” I said.

  “I loved it,” Emma said.

  George tipped his mug to her before taking another sip.

  I realized we were getting low on coffee. As I turned away from the front door to start another pot, it chimed again. I was getting more customers than I’d ever imagined.

  Then I looked back and saw Chief Martin coming in. The moment I saw his face, I realized I might have been better off staying home today after all.

  * * *

  “Suzanne, I need to talk to you,” the chief said.

  Before I could answer, George asked, “What’s this about?”

  I cut him off before he could do any more damage to his relationship with the police chief and said, “I’d be glad to help if I can, Chief. You know me, I’m always happy to cooperate.”

  He looked at me skeptically as George said, “Suzanne, you’re under no obligation to talk to him, you know that, don’t you?”

  “I know that,” I said as I touched his arm lightly. “And believe me, I appreciate you looking out for me, but I really do want to help if I can.”

  He shrugged. “It’s your call, but I’d like to hang around while you talk to him.”

  I nodded. “It’s okay with me. How about you, Chief?”

  He frowned, then agreed. “Suit yourself, Suzanne. I need to know where your ex-husband is.”

  The question caught me completely o
ff guard, since I’d been expecting him to ask me about my own alibi. “How on earth should I know that?”

  “He’s not at his apartment, and no one’s seen him after our conversation here yesterday.”

  “I have no idea where he went, and that’s the truth. It used to be my job to know where Max was all of the time, but I quit, remember? There was no future in it. Sorry I can’t help you.”

  He ignored me, and then looked at George and Emma. “Anyone else see him since yesterday afternoon?”

  Neither one of them said anything. The chief bit his lip before he turned back to me. “There’s something else I need to ask you.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “When I left here, I went to Muriel Stevens’s house. She wasn’t there. Then when I checked back this morning, her place was still deserted.”

  “Maybe they ran away together,” Emma said, not taking the query seriously at all.

  “I kind of doubt that,” the chief said. “Have you seen her lately, Suzanne?”

  “Muriel’s never had a donut in her life, to my knowledge. The woman’s a fanatic about what she eats.” I suddenly realized what I was saying in my own shop, and added, “Not that my donuts aren’t wonderful.”

  I knew that my donuts weren’t exactly health food, but they were good for low spirits, or for folks who wanted to indulge a little. And shouldn’t they be able to? I considered what I offered the public a treat, one of those nice little things that made life worth living.

  “Spare me the advertisement,” he said. “I’m just concerned about Muriel.”

  “And not Max?” I asked.

  “Him, too,” the chief said. He looked frazzled, and I knew that two disappearances and a murder were stretching him beyond his usual resources.

  “Are you going to call Jake?” I hated the reason for having to make the call, but it would be wonderful to see my boyfriend back in April Springs.

  “I’ve been trying to get hold of him, but he’s been too busy to return my calls.”

  “I’m not sure where he is,” I said. Jake wasn’t always at liberty to tell me where he was, or what he was doing. It was one of the things that frustrated me most about our relationship.

  The chief nodded. “Well, if you talk to him before I do, have him give me a call.”

  He put his hat back on and started for the door when I called out, “Chief, hang on a second.”

  As he turned back to me, I grabbed a paper cup, filled it with coffee, then I handed it to him. “On the house. Good luck.”

  He looked genuinely surprised by the offer, and as he took the cup, he said softly, “Thanks, Suzanne.”

  “Don’t mention it,” I said.

  After he was gone, George and Emma started talking at once about what could have happened to our two errant townsfolk.

  “I really don’t think they’re together,” George said. “It’s hard to imagine that there was a love triangle going on there that nobody knew about.” He looked at me and added, “Sorry, Suzanne. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Don’t apologize to me,” I said. “I can’t see it happening, either.”

  “It’s possible, though, right?” Emma asked from her spot on the couch.

  George said grimly, “Even though I don’t think it’s true, for their sakes, I hope that’s all it is.”

  The dire tone of his voice caught my attention. “What are you implying?”

  He stared down into his coffee for a few seconds, then said, “Never mind. I was just thinking out loud.”

  “Do you honestly think I’m going to give up that easily? Come on, come clean, George.”

  When Emma saw that he still wasn’t going to explain himself, she said, “He’s wondering if they’re both dead, too.”

  There was a shocked silence all over the room, but I noticed that George didn’t deny it. Max and I had a rocky relationship—through dating, marriage, and divorce—and while I might have wished him harm at one point in our lives, I’d soon gotten over it. As long as I lived in April Springs, I knew Max would be around, a constant I could depend on to amuse and annoy me. The thought of Max being gone was more than I was ready to accept.

  “I’m sure he’s all right,” I said. “He’s probably just snuggling up with his latest girlfriend, enjoying a chance for a snow day.”

  Though it was clear neither one of them really believed it, they indulged me by agreeing with my statement without contradiction or embellishment, a sure sign that both of them were holding back their true thoughts on Max’s status. I didn’t care. Unless I saw his body, I’d never believe that Max was dead, no matter how dire the circumstances.

  My black mood was interrupted by the front door chime, and I wondered if the chief had come back for something else. That’s when I saw a parade of parents and children enter the shop, and I felt the gloom suddenly vanish. There was laughter and smiles as they all piled in, and I felt like giving donuts away to match their mood, though the businesswoman in me knew better. I had a chance to serve my customers and make a nice profit today. Emma stepped behind the counter with me, and George faded back to a chair by one of the windows so he’d be out of the way.

  “Who’s first?” I asked as one of the dads approached. It was Harry Milner, married to one of my good customers, Terri. They had eight-year-old twin girls, and Terri and her friend Sandy often came by the donut shop after their children were in school. Sometimes on Saturday mornings, Harry came by to pick up breakfast for his still-sleeping family.

  He slapped two brand-new, crisp one-hundred-dollar bills on the counter and said, “Breakfast is on me, for everybody and anybody who walks through that door. If you run out, let me know and I’ll settle up when I leave.”

  There were protests from the crowd of parents, though I noticed none of the kids were complaining.

  Harry smiled at them all and said, “I just had a bit of luck in the stock market, and I want to share it with my friends. Surely no one’s going to begrudge me that, are they?”

  He was good. No one could protest, so Harry turned back to me. “As for me, I’ll take a cup of coffee and a bearclaw.” He hesitated, then said, “Cancel that. Make it hot chocolate.”

  “Do you still want the bearclaw?” I asked.

  He grinned. “What do you think?” He started to rejoin his friends when he stopped and asked, “Is there any chance we can get some Christmas music in here? All this snow has me in the holiday spirit.”

  “Sure thing,” I said, tuning the radio to a station in Charlotte that started their holiday tunes around Labor Day. It wasn’t my usual background music for the donut shop, but then again, I didn’t normally get two hundred dollars in orders either, so it was a day for surprises.

  I got Harry a hot chocolate in my biggest mug, then heard shouts from the children, and told Emma, “We need another gallon of hot chocolate. And fast.”

  “I’m on it,” she said. Emma was what passed for barista at my place. I let her choose the daily coffee specials, order the products, and make the hot chocolate, though we never had a tremendous demand for it. I loved it myself, and was constantly asking Emma how she made hers so tasty, but so far, it was a secret she hadn’t been willing to share with me.

  “It’ll be a few minutes for the hot chocolate,” I said.

  There were disappointed groans all around, then I added, “but in the meantime, you can all pick our your donuts, and by then we should be ready to serve you drinks. Let’s see how many want hot chocolate? Raise your hands so I can get a count.”

  Every hand in the place went up, except George’s. I asked, “Are you the lone holdout sticking with coffee?”

  He nodded, and some of the kids gave him a look like he was crazy, which George chose to ignore. It was all I could do not to laugh, so I ducked back into the kitchen to give Emma the count.

  She had an array of spices out on the counter, and it was pretty clear that I wasn’t welcome in my own kitchen.

  “Was there something you needed?�
� Emma asked as she tried to hide the selection from my gaze.

  “I just wanted to tell you that we need sixteen hot chocolates,” I said. “I had to be sure you made enough.”

  “There will be plenty,” she said. “Don’t worry about that.”

  “You know what? You’d better make it seventeen. I haven’t had your hot chocolate in a while, either.”

  “I’ve got a feeling we’ll need more than that, so I’m making a triple batch. Now shoo.”

  I hid my smile from her as I went back to the front.

  “It’s on its way,” I said, and there were more whoops of delight, and not just from the children.

  I loved the sounds and sights of people filling the shop. I had to find a special way to thank George for coming to get me. I wouldn’t have missed a day like today for the world.

  * * *

  By eleven-thirty, we were out of hot chocolate, despite Emma’s constant battle to keep up with the demand. I thought about closing early, but people kept streaming in, clamoring for a treat to celebrate the snow day. I was sure there were people holed up all over April Springs grumbling about the snow accumulation, but none of them came into Donut Hearts. I decided to leave the station tuned to Christmas music, at least until the day after the holiday. Carols were interspersed with orchestral music, and to my relief, everyone was safe from reindeer hit-and-runs, especially Grandma.

  At noon, we locked our doors, with two donuts left in inventory, barely a cup of coffee left in the pot, and a bank deposit that needed an armed guard escort. I stuck it in our safe. It would easily keep there for another day.

  All in all, it was a good day, one that I’d savor if it weren’t for the fact that my ex-husband was missing, along with a woman I liked, but didn’t really know all that well. I wondered if the chief had any luck tracking either one of them down yet. If he had, he wasn’t sharing the information with me.

  And of course, that left me wondering about Jake Bishop, and whether Chief Martin was going to ever get hold of him, or if he was going to try to handle things himself.