Sinister Sprinkles

by Jessica Beck

  As Sandy and Terri left, dropping apologies like pennies, all three kids were miserable.

  “That was fun,” Grace said.

  “There’s always something going on at Donut Hearts.” A handful of brave souls had stayed through the turmoil, though we’d lost several customers. I grabbed one of the display trays and said, “In reward for your patience and understanding, the rest of these donuts are on the house.”

  At first they were reticent to take any, but after Grace grabbed one, the dam was broken and in two minutes, the tray was empty.

  “Hang on. Let me get the rest,” I said as I made my way back to the case. It was almost closing time, and I felt they could all use a goodwill gesture. There wouldn’t be any donations today, or goodwill sales calls, but that was all right. It felt nice giving some donuts away to my regular customers.

  I held one dozen glazed in reserve for an idea percolating in my head, but besides that, we were wiped out seven minutes before closing.

  “That’s it,” I said. “The shop is closed.”

  A few people headed for the door, but before they could get there, I added, “This didn’t happen. If anyone claims it did, there won’t be any more donuts for them at this shop. Are we all clear about that?”

  There was a flurry of nods, but I knew it would still get out that I was giving away donuts. I just hoped nobody told the reason why.

  Once the front door was locked, Grace asked, “Are we ready to tackle Lester?”

  “No, I have to finish cleaning up,” I said.

  Emma said, “You go on. I can handle this. I appreciate you waiting until we closed before you left.”

  “I’m not doing that to you, Emma. You shouldn’t have to do all of the work. It’s my shop.”

  “I don’t mind,” she said.

  “Well, you might not, but I do.” I turned to Grace. “Will you grab a mop and start on the floor in here? Emma and I will tackle the kitchen, and we’ll all be out of here in twenty minutes.”

  “Just point me in the right direction,” Grace said. “You know I’m a whiz with a mop or a broom.”

  I set her up, then helped Emma tackle the last of the dirty dishes and trays that had once held donuts and other confections. It was amazing how many loads’ worth of suds we went through every day. It was nearly a full-time job just keeping up with them all, and I didn’t know what I’d do without Emma. I didn’t have the budget to buy a dishwasher, and besides, I never thought things got clean enough in them.

  As we scrubbed the last few trays, I said, “I want you to know how much I appreciate you working so hard around here.”

  Emma brushed a bit of her red hair out of her face with the back of her wrist. “That’s a tough compliment to take, after what happened yesterday.”

  “Enough is enough. Emma, I don’t ever want to hear you say that again. It’s in the past, so let’s move on.”

  She hugged me, and I didn’t even mind the soapsuds on my back. “You’re such a cool boss.”

  “And you’re a great worker, and a good friend,” I said.

  Grace walked into the kitchen, then started to back out. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “We’re just finishing,” I said as Emma rinsed the last tray.

  As I shut off the lights in back, I said, “Let’s get out of here.”

  “I’m beat,” Emma said. “I’ve been here since midnight.”

  “Why don’t you come in a little later tomorrow?”

  “Like six?” she asked, the grin clear on her face.

  “I was thinking two-forty-five,” I said, “but we can compromise. Let’s make it two-forty-six.”

  She laughed as I let her out, and once the three of us were on the sidewalk, she quickly hurried to her car.

  I looked at Grace and said, “It’s good having Emma work here.”

  “She’s right, you know. You are a great boss.”

  “Were you eavesdropping?” I asked.

  “Of course I was. It’s a small shop, so it’s kind of tough not to hear everything that’s going on. You’re a pretty wonderful friend, too,” she added.

  “Right back at you. Now, what do you say we go talk to Lester about our little mystery? Is there a chance in the world he’ll have an explanation that either one of us is going to accept as true?”

  “I guess we owe it to him to at least ask,” Grace said.

  “Then let’s go.”

  EASY AS PIE RAISED DONUTS

  These donuts are light, airy, and have just the right touch of sweetness. When you don’t have time for two rises, choose this recipe!

  INGREDIENTS

  • 2 packages fast rising yeast (1⁄2 ounce total)

  • 21⁄2 tablespoons granulated sugar

  • 1 cup water, warm

  • 1 egg, beaten

  • 1⁄3 cup butter or margarine, melted

  • 1 teaspoon cinnamon

  • 1 teaspoon nutmeg

  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

  • 1⁄2 teaspoon salt

  • 3–4 cups flour

  DIRECTIONS

  Mix the yeast, water and sugar. Wait five minutes for the yeast to start working. Add egg, butter, cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla and salt, blend thoroughly, then start adding flour until the dough is not sticky to the touch. Knead the dough for about a minute, then roll out to 1⁄4 to 1⁄2 inch and cut out donut shapes, diamonds, or ravioli cutter shapes.

  Set these aside to rise for 30 minutes, then fry in 360°F canola oil, turning once so both sides cook evenly.

  Drain on paper towels, then enjoy!

  CHAPTER 11

  “I’ll drive,” Grace said. “Everybody in town can recognize that Jeep of yours, and we don’t want the world to know exactly what we’re up to, now do we?”

  “Are you telling me that you actually risked your precious company car driving over here?” I asked. “I thought you were supposed to stay off the roads until you got approval from your boss.”

  “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Grace said. “That doesn’t mean I have to go back to work as soon as the roads are better. If I have to, I’ll take some vacation until we find out what really happened to Darlene.”

  “I don’t want you to miss out on anything because of me,” I said.

  “Suzanne, there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing. Since I can’t get you to leave that shop of yours for a real vacation, I’d just as soon burn my days this way.”

  “You know I can’t just shut down, and it’s not fair to dump it all on Emma and her mother. I’m sure they’re fine, but then I’m not the one making the donuts, you know? Never mind. I’m sure it sounds crazy to you.”

  “No more than anything else you do,” she said, smiling to take the bite out of her comment.

  We pulled up to the radio station, a nondescript brick building with no windows that I could see from the parking lot. There was a huge tower of steel beside it, the only sign that it was a radio station and not a laundromat or a copy center.

  The door had more warnings on it than a box of razor blades, and I wondered if we’d even get in. I rang the bell, then knocked, all to no avail.

  “They have to eat, don’t they?” I said. “I guess we’ll just wait until someone comes out.”

  Grace shook her head. “You know, I’ve never been a big fan of waiting. Let me make a few calls.”

  “Do you honestly think you’ll be able to worm your way into the station?”

  “You never know. Besides, it’s got to be better than standing around out here in the cold waiting for someone to come out.”

  “By all means, phone away,” I said.

  “Let me grab my cell phone. I left it in the car.”

  She disappeared into her vehicle just as the door to the station opened. A tall, pretty woman in her thirties rushed out, and when she saw me, a look of obvious relief spread over her face.

  “It’s about time,” she said, obviously startled to see me. “How long have you been
out here waiting?”

  “I just got here,” I admitted.

  “Come on in, then. Lester’s waiting for you. He’s been tap-dancing for the last four minutes, and as much as I love seeing the man squirm, it doesn’t make for a very good radio show.”

  She grabbed my arm and hustled me through the door before I could protest, or at least wait for Grace to catch up.

  “My friend’s still in the parking lot,” I said.

  “Then she can listen from there. No guests allowed, remember? We covered all of this on the telephone last night.”

  “I’m afraid there’s been some kind of misunderstanding.”

  We stopped in front of a broad window looking into a control room, and I saw Lester sitting behind his desk, headphones on and a microphone married to his lips.

  She explained, “Listen, we’re a small station. Save your prima donna act for Charlotte, okay? Just go in and talk to him. It’s as easy as that.”

  I saw the ON AIR sign go off, and the next thing I knew, the woman was shoving me through the door toward Lester. We’d met a few times, and I thought for sure he’d know who I was, but he barely looked up as I walked in.

  “You’re late. Sit there and put on the headset.”

  I started to say something when he held up a hand and said into the microphone, “Cutnip, a cut about the rest. Welcome back. Our guest has just arrived, and we’re all eager to hear what she has to say about grilling salmon.”

  He waved frantically at me to talk, but he still didn’t make eye contact. I put on the headset, then leaned into my own microphone and said, “Lester, I have no idea how to grill a salmon. I guess you keep asking it questions until it breaks down and finally tells you the truth.”

  That got his attention. His head jerked upwards, and after a second, he realized who I was. “That’s some of our own Suzanne Hart’s humor, folks. Since Chef Lisa couldn’t make it today, we did the next best thing and invited our very own donut maker into the hot seat. Tell me, Suzanne, how do you justify serving food that is as dangerous to its consumers as cigarettes or machine guns? Hold that thought, we’ll be back in thirty seconds while she tries to come up with an answer, folks.”

  I pulled the headphones from my ears as the ON AIR light went off. “What are trying to pull? That’s a dirty question, and you know it.”

  “Why did you pretend to be someone else, just to get on the air?”

  “I came to talk to you,” I said. “I never claimed to be Chef Lisa, or even Chef Boyardee. Your assistant threw me in here, and you told me to talk.”

  “Cara, come in here,” he said as he hit one of the many buttons on the panel in front of him.

  “I’m busy right now, Lester.”

  “Make the time.”

  “Your commercial break is up,” she said, clearly trying to buy some time.

  “Then run another one,” Lester said. He was a large man, with a shiny bald head and beady brown eyes that would look more at home on a ferret.

  I felt bad for Cara, but she didn’t seem the least bit concerned when she came in. Lester pointed at me and scowled. “That’s not Chef Lisa.”

  “I’ve told you before, Lester. If you insist on booking your own guests, you can’t blame me when things go wrong.”

  “She makes donuts,” he screamed.

  “Bite me,” she said, low enough for me to hear, but not Lester. Or so she thought.

  “What did you just say?”

  I stepped in before they had a blowout. “She said, ‘Like me.’ I turned to Cara. “So, you make donuts, too.”

  She nodded, then said, “All the time.”

  Lester frowned, but the light came back on, and Cara escaped while she still could. I envied her the opportunity.

  “Now, you were saying?” Lester said.

  I was ready with my answer.

  “If you eat too many donuts, I’m the first one to admit that they’re bad for you,” I said. “But so is ice cream. So is steak. So is watermelon. Moderation is the key to all things.”

  “But why make them at all?” Lester asked, still pressing me pretty hard.

  “We aren’t machines, Lester. Every last one of us deserves a guilty pleasure now and then. I’m sure you have a secret vice yourself. Why don’t you tell your listeners what your bad habit is? I’m certain they’d all love to know.”

  Ignoring my counter-jab, Lester forged on. “So, you admit that what you make is poison, and yet you still sell your products to the unsuspecting public. Back for Suzanne’s answer after this.”

  He cut the live feed, and then said, “Don’t try to get in a war of words with me, especially not on the air. I’ll have you tattered and crying in two minutes if you keep trying to make me look bad. Is that why you came by? To torment me?”

  “No, I need to ask you some questions.”

  “What about?” he asked, the suspicion heavy in his voice. “I can’t imagine anything the two of us have to talk about.”

  “Darlene Higgins is a good place to start, don’t you think?”

  There were no mistaking it, I’d scored a hit with that one. The ON AIR light came back on, and before Lester could say anything, I decided to jump in and defend my donuts.

  “You call my donuts poison,” I said. “I won’t debate it. It’s beneath my dignity to lower myself to your level. You’re the one who needs to explain himself. Tell us all about your relationship with Darlene Higgins, Lester. Why did she have one of your business cards, and a hundred-dollar bill that matched up to it, in her apartment when she was murdered?”

  I looked at him, and noticed he was smiling. “What’s so funny?”

  “We’ve been off the air for thirty seconds,” he said. “Technical difficulties. Sorry about that. If you’d like to schedule a new interview time, see Cara on your way out.”

  “When did you cut me off?” I asked.

  He fiddled with some dials, and then I heard my voice replayed saying, “You call my donuts poison. I won’t debate it.” And after that, there was just the hiss of dead air.

  “I’ll sue you for that,” I said, starting to get up before I realized that I still wore his headphones. I’d have to boil my ears after I left to get his touch off me.

  “For a technical difficulty? I’d love to see you prove it.”

  I realized pretty quickly that he was right. I didn’t have a chance, and my little truncated comment was going to stand uncorrected for a long time. I was fairly sure of one thing: Lester wasn’t about to extend an invitation to me on the air so I could clear my name, and my product’s reputation.

  “You got me, congratulations,” I said. “But that still doesn’t explain what that bill and your card was doing at her apartment.”

  “I give out cards all of the time. Anybody might have taken it and passed it on to Darlene.”

  “Then what about the matching hundred?” I said.

  “That’s my business. Suzanne, if you’re going to come after me, you’re going to have to have better ammunition than that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”

  “I thought you had a technical problem,” I said.

  “You should go. Right now.”

  I did as he said, not because I felt threatened by him, but because I knew he had me. I had no real proof of anything, just suspicion and conjecture, and I knew neither one of those was going to be good enough for Chief Martin.

  Cara stopped me as I started to leave, and I could hear someone pounding on the outside door from the hallway. Evidently Grace wasn’t about to give up until she managed to get inside.

  The producer put a hand on my arm. “Thanks for covering for me. As much as I loathe working for Lester, it pays for groceries, and my kids have to eat. I lost my grip a little and snapped at him, and if you hadn’t been there to cover for me, I would have gotten fired.”

  “It was my pleasure,” I said.

  She nodded. “Come here a second.”

  I followed her into her booth—a much smaller r
oom that was across the hall and down ten feet—so she couldn’t see Lester, and more importantly, he couldn’t see her.

  “I heard what you asked him, and you deserve a straight answer.”

  “How did you hear our conversation?” I asked. “The microphone was off.”

  “Just the one for the broadcast feed,” Cara said. “He forgets all the time, and I get the juiciest gossip that way. Lester’s nothing more than an old fishwife. He loves to spread rumors, and he gets his own pipelines in here to feed his on-air slander from his secret informants. That’s why Darlene had his card and a hundred-dollar bill. There was a number on the money, wasn’t there?”

  I nodded.

  Cara took a book out, and recited a number to me. I didn’t even have to look at the bill or the card to know that it was a perfect match.

  “He was paying her for rumors?” I asked. “What could she know that was worth a hundred dollars? This is April Springs, not Dallas.”

  “That I can’t tell you,” Cara said. “All I know is that she was on his payroll. Working at Cutnip must have been a great source of rumors about folks around town.”

  “But I just heard Lester do a spot for the salon. Isn’t that kind of crazy, risking losing a sponsor like that?”

  Cara leaned forward and whispered, “You don’t know the half of it. Wilma’s ads are the only thing keeping him on the air right now. He’s lost two other sponsors in the past month. If she drops him too, his so-called career in radio will be over.”

  “So he had a reason to want Darlene dead, didn’t he? If she threatened to tell Wilma what she knew, he could have killed her to shut her up.”

  Cara’s face went white. “No, that couldn’t be.”

  “It’s possible,” I said.

  “I have to check on something, and then I’ll get back to you. Is there a number where I can reach you?”

  I jotted down the donut shop’s number, and after a second’s hesitation, added my cell phone number. “Call me anytime. I appreciate your help. Just don’t do anything to get fired. I couldn’t live with that on my conscience.”

  “And I couldn’t stand by and let a murderer go free,” she said.

  Lester came out of the booth and started down the hall. When he saw me, his eyes narrowed to two tiny slits. “What are you doing here?”