Sweet Suspects (The Donut Mysteries)

by Beck, Jessica

  “Not unless there’s a long shot that we haven’t even considered yet,” I said. As I studied the board, I added, “Wow, that’s quite the list, isn’t it?”

  “Zane had a way of polarizing people, didn’t he?” Grace asked as she added another column, this one headed MOTIVE.

  “Here it gets a little trickier,” she said as she paused at the first name. “Tom either owed Zane money he couldn’t or didn’t want to pay back, or he was up to something else,” she said as she made a dollar sign beside Tom’s name.

  “Put a heart beside Janet’s name,” I said. “Most women kill their husbands out of affairs of the heart.”

  “Maybe, but she might have wanted that insurance money more than a husband,” Grace replied as she added another dollar sign beside the heart.

  “What kind of symbol are you going to use for Henry?” I asked.

  “It has to be a heart, since his motive was defending Helen,” she said as she drew it. “Helen gets one, too.”

  “Maybe we’re being a little too simplistic here,” I said as I studied the symbols we’d used so far.

  “This is just our shorthand,” Grace said. “We know what we mean.”

  “Okay. What about Candy?”

  Grace drew a little ghost.

  “Seriously? Why a ghost?”

  “Because she was afraid of being exposed, and I mean that literally,” Grace said. “Most people are afraid of ghosts, right?” she asked me with a smile.

  “I can’t argue with that,” I said. “My question is, how do we go about eliminating some of those names?”

  “That’s the real question here, isn’t it?”

  “Do you have any ideas?” I asked her.

  “Not off the top of my head, but I’ll think better after a good night’s sleep.”

  As if on cue, I yawned. “Me, too.”

  “Let’s pack it in, Suzanne. It’s been a big day, and we’re both working tomorrow.”

  “But we’re still working on the case tomorrow afternoon, right?” I asked her.

  “We are,” she said. “What time is good for you to get started?”

  “I’ll be free around eleven if you can be,” I said as she walked me out to my Jeep.

  “Make it noon and you’ve got a deal,” Grace said.

  “Noon it is. That will give me time to come home, take a shower, and change.”

  “Then we can have lunch and then start digging again after that,” Grace answered.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Sleep tight.”

  “You, too.”

  To my surprise, Momma was home when I pulled into the driveway, and lights were on inside the house. Had something happened to end her date prematurely?

  “Hey,” I said as I walked into the house. “What are you doing here? Is everything all right?”

  “Everything is just fine,” Momma said as she looked up from her e-reader. She was on the couch sitting in front of a blazing fire, and yet she still had a blanket tucked around her. Momma enjoyed being toasty a great deal more than I did, and if I couldn’t crack my window on the second floor every now and then to let in a little cool air, I would have had a tough time sleeping at night.

  “I thought you had a date tonight,” I said as I took a seat across from her.

  “Phillip was called back to the office unexpectedly,” she said.

  Had there been a break in the case? I wanted so much to ask her, but I’d made it a rule not to quiz my mother about what her boyfriend was doing, especially when it involved a murder we were both investigating. “I’m sorry. Did you at least get a chance to eat?”

  “I did, and thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For not asking me anything else about it,” she said as she put her reader aside.

  “You’re welcome,” I said. “How’s your book?”

  “As a matter of fact, I’m reading the same one you and your book club are discussing tomorrow,” she said. “It sounded interesting when you told me about it. Right now I’m on page ninety-three. Have you finished it yet?”

  “I read it a few nights ago,” I said. “What do you think so far?”

  “It’s good, but I want to wait to see how it ends before I pass final judgment on it,” she said. “I believe I know who did it, and how it was done.”

  “I’ll bet you an apple pie that you don’t,” I said with a grin.

  Momma frowned. “Is that a spoiler, Suzanne?”

  “No, ma’am. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “Then let’s not talk about it anymore,” she said. “How is your investigation going?”

  “Well, right now we have a ton of suspects, and instead of eliminating any, we keep adding more. Who knew that a high school reunion could bring out so much of the bad in people?”

  “Why are you surprised?” she asked. “When you mix buried hard feelings with alcohol, it’s doubtful that no one’s going to get hurt.”

  “I understand a black eye or two, but murder?”

  “Sometimes slights from the past become magnified over time to the point where they consume the person who felt wronged.”

  I thought about that for a moment, and then I asked, “So then you think it’s more likely that Zane’s murder was because of something in his past rather than his present?”

  “I’m not saying that,” Momma explained. “All I’m saying is that it was a volatile situation. Have you seen the widow yet?”

  “I spoke with her today,” I said.

  “She must be grief-stricken,” Momma said.

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”

  “From your tone, I’m guessing that she’s not.”

  “Momma, she’s already called the insurance company, and the man hasn’t been dead for even a day yet. How does someone do that?”

  She shook her head slowly. “Suzanne, she might not even realize emotionally that he’s gone yet. Don’t judge her too harshly today. We have no idea what went on between them in their marriage. She must be feeling a hundred different emotions right now.”

  In a soft voice, I asked her, “Is that how it was when Dad died?”

  She sighed long and loud, and then Momma said, “All I felt then was grief. I still miss your father every day. That hasn’t changed since the day he died, and no matter what happens in my future, I suspect that it never will.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said as I reached over and patted her hand.

  “Don’t be,” Momma said with a gentle smile. “I have a world of memories of our time together, and despite a few rocky patches, I wouldn’t have traded any of it for the world.” She wiped away a tear from her cheek, and then she added, “It’s getting late. Hadn’t you better be off to bed?”

  I glanced at the clock and saw that she was right. Most people would be hours away from sleep, but then again, they didn’t have to keep my hours, either. “You’re right. Good night.”

  “Good night,” she said.

  I glanced down at her as I went up the stairs, and she’d already opened her e-reader again. I just hoped that she wasn’t as disappointed with the ending of that book as I’d been. I couldn’t wait to discuss it with my friends the next day. My book club had come into Donut Hearts one day looking for a place to hold their meetings, and they’d gladly welcomed me to join them. It was one of the regular things in my life that I counted on and looked forward to every month, and I was glad they’d randomly chosen my shop that day.

  It was odd the next morning being at the donut shop without Emma, even though I ran the place one day a week without her. Maybe it was because I’d had time to get used to it then. This was different. I could swear I heard noises coming from the front of the shop as I worked in the kitchen, but every time I walked out there, I was all alone. By the time my break came as the yeast donut dough rose, I was having second thoughts about going outside, even though it was part of my routine. The fresh air always did me good, but the dark seemed a little more ominous today that it normally did
.

  “Stop being such a sissy and go outside,” I said aloud to myself.

  I took a deep breath, and then I walked out of the shop into the brisk morning air. Just in case, though, I didn’t go far, and I left the door unlocked behind me in case I had to dash back inside.

  When my cellphone rang, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  It was Jake!

  “Hey there,” I said, trying to keep the edge of unease I’d been feeling out of my voice.

  “Is this a bad time?” he asked. It was clear how exhausted he was by the strain in his voice.

  “It’s perfect. I’m on my break,” I said. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m worn out,” he said.

  “How’s the case going?”

  “Frustrating. I thought I had him, but it turned out to be a bad tip. The worst part is that he struck again four hours ago.” The anger and disappointment in his voice were both easy to read.

  “Don’t give up hope, Jake. You’ll get him,” I said.

  “It sure doesn’t feel like it,” he said. “How’s your case going?”

  “About like normal. I have more suspects than I know what to do with, and it’s aggravating.”

  “At least you have suspects,” Jake said. “Tell me about what you’ve been doing.”

  “Are you sure you want to hear about Zane’s murder? You must be sick of killing by now.”

  “Who knows? Maybe you’ll say something that will spark an idea in me. Besides, it’s relaxing to hear you talk.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not,” I said with a grin.

  “Trust me, it is. Talk to me, Suzanne.”

  I went over everything Grace and I had discussed the night before, and by the time I was finished, I asked, “So do you have any ideas for me?”

  “It sounds as though you’re on the right track,” he said. “You have to keep pressing your suspects. Sooner or later, somebody’s going to crack.”

  “I don’t have that luxury,” I said. “After all, nobody has to talk to me.”

  “That’s true,” he said. “Still, I have faith in you.”

  “Aren’t we a pair?” I asked.

  “I like to think so,” he said.

  Just then, the timer beside me went off, indicating that my break was over. I planned to ignore it, but Jake must have heard it. “What was that?”

  “My timer,” I said. “It’s okay, though.”

  “It certainly is not,” Jake said. “You’ve got donuts to make, and I need a few hours of sleep before I get up and start all over again.”

  “Thanks for calling,” I said.

  “Would it surprise you to know that talking to you has been the highlight of an otherwise dreadful day, Suzanne?”

  “I would hope so,” I said happily. “Call any time.”

  “I might. Good night, my love.”

  “Good morning,” I said, and I knew that he had to hear me smiling as I said it.

  I hung up, took a deep breath of air, and suddenly realized that the fear and trepidation I’d been feeling before about being alone was gone. Just hearing Jake’s voice had been all the tonic that I needed. I was ready to take on the world.

  I still locked the donut shop door behind me after I walked in, though.

  After all, there was no reason to be foolish about it. No matter how good I felt at the moment, there was still a murderer loose on the streets of April Springs, and I was going to keep watching my back until someone brought them to justice.

  Chapter 14

  “Good morning,” I said as Emma walked in a few minutes before six. “Tell me, what was it like sleeping in?”

  She yawned a little as she stretched. “It was awesome,” she said. “Did you miss me?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. I tried to do a few dishes, but I’m afraid there’s quite a stack in there waiting for you.”

  “I’m happy to do them. You don’t think we could make this a full-time thing, could you? I could see the advantages of working five hours a day six days a week.”

  “That sounds good to me,” I said with a smile. Before she could respond, I added, “Of course, I’ll only be able to pay you for the hours that you’re actually here working.”

  Emma laughed at my suggestion. “Never mind. I like the old system just fine. It was really nice, though. You should let my mother and me make the donuts one day a week without you. If you feel the need, you could come in at six like I am today. I’m telling you, Suzanne, once you try it, you’ll never be able to go back.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I said as I brought the last tray of donuts out and slid them into the display case. “I know myself too well. I’ll get spoiled, and then I won’t want to come in on time ever again. Before you know it, we’re both going to be out looking for a job. I appreciate the offer, but for right now, let’s just stick with what works.”

  “That’s fine by me,” she said. “Have you picked up a copy of the newspaper yet?”

  “No, I’ve been kind of busy getting ready to open,” I said with a smile. “Is there something new and noteworthy that I’ve missed?”

  “Dad’s got a full page article on Zane’s murder. It’s got something interesting stuff in it.” She brought a paper out from the folds of her heavy jacket and presented it to me. “Extra, extra, read all about it.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “I’ll be in back if you need me,” Emma said.

  She left me alone up front, and since we didn’t have any customers clamoring to get in, after I unlocked the door and flipped the sign to show that we were open, I took out the newspaper to see what Ray Blake had gotten wrong this time.

  As I suspected, it was full of supposition, innuendo, and conjecture. There wasn’t anything actionable that I could see, but he sure didn’t take it easy on the murder victim. I doubted that Janet would be able to sue him for libel, but that didn’t mean that Ray had pulled any punches. There was enough shading in the article to imply that Zane had deserved exactly what he’d gotten. I wasn’t even all that surprised. Ray had a reputation for not letting facts stand in the way of a good story, and he hadn’t done anything to negate that impression in his paper. What’s more, Ray had focused more on the mischiefs some of the former students had performed, making them somehow related to Zane’s death, though I didn’t see how that was possible. Who cared that pranks had been set up in the bathrooms on the most juvenile level, or that several new locks were found on previously empty lockers, or that the coach’s door had been glued shut? All in all, it wasn’t worth the time that it had taken to read it.

  “I’d like three dozen of your prettiest donuts to go,” a young woman said a little after seven.

  “You don’t even care about how they taste?” I asked. It was an odd enough request to catch my attention, and I wanted to know her motivation for her order.

  “I’m sure they’re all delicious, but we’re celebrating over at the high school,” she said.

  “What’s the happy occasion?” I asked as I started adding sprinkled donuts, colorful cake donuts, and brightly iced yeast donuts to the boxes.

  “One of our teachers just married our guidance counselor,” she said.

  I nearly dropped the full box of donuts in my hand. “Henry Davidson and Helen Marston got married? When did this happen?”

  “Oh, do you know them? It was the night before last,” she said. “They didn’t want to say anything right away, given the bad timing and everything.”

  “What timing is that?” I asked as I recovered enough to start stocking another box.

  “They had been planning on having a formal wedding sometime next month, but right after they left the reunion, they decided to drive straight to the beach to elope. Once they got there, they woke up a justice of the peace and got married at two in the morning. It’s really romantic, isn’t it?”

  “It sure is,” I said as I started doing the math in my head. We were a good five hours from the beach,
and that matched up if they left at nine. Unfortunately, that gave them a tight alibi, because they couldn’t have made it back before seven, well after I’d found Zane’s body. “I would have thought they would have said something before this, though.”