Soupy ignored her, however, and focused on Heather’s face. “I had to call you. I had to.”
“Calm down, it’s going to be all right.” Heather strode to the seat next to his bed and sank into it. “Why don’t you start from the beginning? Talk me through what happened this evening.”
“I was in bed, reading,” Soupy replied, gesturing to the thick book on his bedside table – Lord of The Rings. “I was at a particularly good part too, when I heard this noise out in the hall. Like someone trying to break a window.”
Heather nodded. “And then what happened.”
“Well, I want to check the source of the commotion. And I saw this shadow thing, this shadow right outside the window across from my room. Nearly jumped right outta my skin,” Soupy said, then shivered and gripped the thin bedsheets. “I’m tellin ya, Heather, someone’s after me.”
Heather tried to keep the doubt from her expression. She failed terribly.
“You don’t gotta believe me. Just tellin’ you, if something happens to me, you know why.”
“Why?” Heather asked.
“Because I’m next. They got poor, old Eva and I’m next. There’s a killer on the loose!”
Heather soothed Soupy as best she could, but he didn’t settle. They called for the nurses to bring a glass of water, which he promptly threw back at them because they’d ‘poisoned’ it.
Heather and Amy left a few moments after that, sprayed in water and slightly miserable for it.
“He seems crazy one second and normal the next,” Amy whispered.
“That’s what I thought too. But it wouldn’t hurt to check out the window, see if there might be any disturbance.” Heather replied.
They hurried around to the outside and checked for marks and scratches, but there were none. Except for a single print on the ground. It was rather big, a man’s shoe.
“That could be from anywhere though,” Heather said, glancing around at the darkened gardens, scanning with the flashlight from her smartphone. “I bet there are gardeners that work out here.”
“I bet.” Amy said.
But both women shared a freaked out look, before heading back inside.
“Hey,” Heather said, “would you like to sleepover tonight?”
Amy nodded mutely.
Whether Soupy had seen a dark shape or not, it had scared Heather enough not to want an empty house that night.
Chapter 7
“This is the second time I’ve eaten at Dos Chicos this week,” Heather said, unable to contain the grin. Overeating Mexican food was one of her favorite past times. Donuts were the other.
“I take it you’re not complaining,” Ryan replied.
He’d sent her a message that morning and invited her to dinner, and she’d gladly accepted, clearly since she was seated across from him with a plate of steaming enchiladas in front of her.
“I’m glad we did this,” Heather said. She twirled the engagement ring on her finger, and they both looked at it. “I was starting to worry I’d never hear from you again. You’ve been really distant lately.”
There, she’d said it. She’d broached the topic and now she probably sounded far too desperate for a woman her age.
But for heaven’s sake! He was as closed off a man as any she’d met.
Ryan nodded slowly, dipping his quesadilla in the salsa pot and taking a big bite. He chewed and chewed and chewed.
Heather sniffed, waiting for his answer.
Ryan finally finished his mouthful and cleared his throat. “I know I’ve been distant. I’m sorry about that.” He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “And I know there’s still wedding planning to be done and I really do want to be a big part of that, but I had to keep my distance.”
Heather cut into her enchilada, bit off a piece and chewed at length.
He squirmed as much as she had, and she couldn’t help a tiny smile. Served him right for making her stress about their relationship.
She was good at keeping it together, years of experience and all that, but that didn’t mean she’d enjoyed the whole ‘silent treatment’ from a grown man. Who happened to be investigating one of her oldest friend’s attacks.
“Why did you have to keep your distance?” Heather asked, and balanced the tines of her fork on the side of her plate.
“Because you were a suspect in the case,” Ryan replied. He puffed out his cheeks and let out a slow breath. “I know, I know. It might seem crazy to you but I had to do this for my job. I wanted to keep a neutral perspective. And I obviously never thought you attacked Eva, but the other officer couldn’t know that.”
“So, I take it that you’ve ruled me out if we’re having dinner,” Heather replied.
“Yes, I’ve ruled you out.” Ryan tucked into his quesadillas again. After a few minutes of eating, on both their parts, with the music in the restaurant drifting between them, curling in their ears, Ryan smiled and grasped her hand again. “I’ve missed you. I hope my silence hasn’t put a dent in your enthusiasm for our wedding. I really do want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“And I do with you.”
It was good to take a night off from sleuthing, and from worrying about Dave’s bathroom habits. Another quirk after his accident. He needed the bathroom twenty times a night at least. Okay, probably not as much as that, but that was what it felt like.
She’d dropped him off at Amy’s for the night.
“How are things at the shop?” Ryan asked, pushing his empty plate aside for the waiter to collect.
“Oh, they’re good. I’ve brought out a new donut, the American Dream. It’s perfect for Memorial Day, but, ugh, things just aren’t the same without Eva hanging around.”
Ryan grimaced. “I understand. And I’m sorry about that, I really am. Have the doctors contacted you about her condition?”
“No, but I called Hillside Regional and berated the receptionist until she put me through to one.” Heather chuckled, but then her mirth died. “The doc says there’s been no change in her condition.”
“She’ll come out of it, don’t worry. Soon you’ll have Eva back in the shop, telling her stories.” Ryan took both her hands this time, and rested his thumb on her engagement ring. “I promise, I’m doing everything I can to get to the bottom of this.”
Heather resisted the urge to tell him she was in the process of doing the same. If that wasn’t a sure fire way to ruin the evening, then what was?
“Do you have any idea what she was hit with?” Heather asked, puting on her best wide-eyed innocent look. “For the purpose of telling the doctors I mean. Perhaps they could treat her better if they knew.”
Ryan narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t fooled. “We haven’t found the weapon yet.” At least he’d told her.
That meant it was still out there, maybe still with the attacker. Another clue.
“Heather, I hope I don’t have to warn you not to investigate this. You know that this is police work and getting involved could potentially –”
“I know, I know, you don’t have to tell me twice.” She beamed at him. “I just wish I could help somehow.”
Ryan nodded. “The only way you can help is by telling me if you hear anything or spot any suspicious behavior. Is that clear Heather Janke?”
She stuck out her tongue. “Now you’re last naming me?”
“Is that clear,” he repeated, deepening his tone. It was half-joke, half-serious.
“All right, all right. It’s clear. Clear as glaze. Clear as crystal. Clear as glycerin. Clear as colorless molasses. Clear as –”
“I get it, I get it,” Ryan said, raising his hands and chuckling.
It was nice to be in his company again. Now that the tension had broken, she could relax and rifle through bridal magazines without a care.
“What’s say you and I have a coffee?” Ryan asked, raising a hand to summon the waiter.
“Sure, but we’ll have to make it quick. I can only imagine how many times Dave has peed
on Amy’s floor by now.”
“Oh,” Ryan said, pulling a face. “And she has those white carpets in her living room too.”
“Right?” Heather laughed.
Chapter 8
Heather eyed Eva’s empty window-side seat again, squishing her lips to one side, then the other.
It was a bright Monday morning, and Donut Delights was abuzz with the usual crowd of donut lovers and coffee connoisseurs. Families, friends, groups of old ladies, businessmen. There was such a diverse range of people in the bakery and she loved every second of it.
But it all felt a little empty without Eva.
Ryan might be in charge of the case, and she’d probably suffer guilt for her constant sleuthin, but she wouldn’t let this one go until it was solved. Simple as that.
And she only had one lead left.
Maricela and Jung had the counter today, and they worked great as a team, serving up donuts, ringing up orders, handing out coffees.
Angelica was on leave.
And Ken, well, he was in the kitchen, rustling up another batch of Cinnamon Roast Toasty Donuts, and American Dreams in red, white and blue sprinkles.
This was her chance.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” she said, to the two at the front.
“Whatever ya say boss,” Jung replied, with a wave.
Maricela laughed and mimicked him. They got on well, as did all the people in the shop. The place had the perfect atmosphere for comradery, and Heather was proud of that.
She walked through to the kitchen, paused and let the door swing shut behind her.
It didn’t make much noise, but Ken still jumped and turned to her, spraying a cupful of sprinkles across the counter.
“Oh, boss, sorry! I didn’t mean to mess.”
“And I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Heather replied.
Ken hurried to clean off the sprinkles, but Heather strode over and stopped him with a light touch to the shoulder. He jerked around, as if she’d electrocuted him.
“There’s no use crying over spilled sprinkles. Ken, are you all right?”
He swiped sweat off his brow. “I – I’m fine,” he said.
“You seem awfully distracted lately.”
“I guess I’m a little bit on edge. I don’t know if Jung told you, but I don’t have the best history with the cops, and the whole Eva thing has brought a lot of my old fears back.”
Old fears? No, Jung definitely hadn’t told her anything along those lines.
“Ken, I’m always here to talk. Which brings me to why I came to see you,” she said, her gazing flicking to the spilled sprinkles. It looked like a party on the kitchen counter. She resisted the urge to swipe a few for casual chewing.
“I’ll answer any question you have,” Ken said, and wiped his hands down the front of his apron. He had a bit of flour on it, which was very unlike Ken.
All her assistants were neat bakers. Ken hardly messed a drop of an ingredient. He had to be nervous if he’d spilled any flour.
“Ken, I went to Eva’s house, just to check it out, you know?” Heather glanced over her shoulder. The coast was clear, no Ryan to burst in and bust her mid-sleuth.
“Okay,” Ken replied, and bit the inside of his cheek, so it hollowed inwards.
“I found a Donuts Delights box in the trash can. It was the delivery of donuts you were supposed to bring to her that afternoon.” Heather tucked her hands behind her back and clasped them together. “I can’t understand why they would be there. Did you dump them in the trash?”
Ken was pale again. This entire affair had taken a toll on his nervous system.
“No, I would never put any of your donuts in the trash. I love baking, I love donuts. I love Donut Delights.”
“Then, well, um,” Heather trailed off, to collect her thoughts. She circled the counter and rested her back against the massive steel fridge in one corner. “Do you have any idea how they might have ended up there?”
“I do,” Ken whispered. “I know I should’ve told you this before, but I was scared. I’m really scared the police will try to arrest me. Before I worked here, I had a rough life and the police, well they weren’t my biggest fans, let’s put it that way.”
Heather tilted her head to the side. “So how did the donuts end up in Eva’s trash?” She respected Ken’s privacy. Even if he’d done something wrong prior to his employment at Donut Delights, it really wasn’t her business.
There was a difference between sleuthing and prying into another human being’s personal life.
“Here’s what happened,” Ken said, and straightened. “I arrived to deliver the donuts to Eva, but when I got there she was already out front, watering her garden. I left the donuts on the front porch and said goodbye.”
“Sounds normal enough.”
“Exactly, but when I got to the car and looked back…” Ken swallowed, and his eyes went round as buttons. “When I looked back, there was someone else walking towards the house.”
“Who?” Heather asked, curiosity poking holes in her patience. “Who was it?”
“It was Gary Larkin,” Ken said. “You know, the guy from the Chamber of Commerce?”
It was Heather’s turn to go wide-eyed. They stared at each other in shock.
Gary Larkin. He was the guy who’d dated a killer. His career had been ruined after Sheila’s demise.
“Oh boy, that’s not good to hear. But what would Gary Larkin want with Eva? They barely knew each other. In fact, I’m not sure if they’d even met before.” Heather wriggled her nose, allowing her poor eyes to return to their normal size.
“I have no idea, but he was walking like he meant business. Swinging those big arms back and forth like pendulums.”
“Pendulums,” Heather repeated, for the sake of saying something, anything at all.
This threw yet another lead into the case. Was it a lead or a monkey wrench?
“Thanks, Ken,” Heather said, and patted her employee on the shoulder. “You get back to work, and don’t worry about the cops. It’s like I said, if you didn’t do it, they can’t arrest you. Am I right?”
Ken gave a weak smile and turned to clean up the spilled sprinkles.
Chapter 9
Gary Larkin had fallen from grace since the whole ‘girlfriend and secret affair guilty of murder’ thing. The Chamber of Commerce didn’t look kindly on those types of interactions.
His offices certainly weren’t on Main Street anymore, but on a road which looked more like a back alley.
The brick-faced two story building was peppered with graffiti, and an overflowing dumpster was tucked against it on one side.
Heather wrinkled her nose. Dave didn’t snuffle at all. He had a taste for donuts, not for trash, and his attitude was distinctly uppity.
He looked at her as if to say ‘Why have you brought me here, woman?’
“We have to question him, Dave, he’s our only lead right now.”
Apart from Ken, who she didn’t want to consider because he was, well, he was Ken, for heaven’s sake.
Heather strode to the front door of the building, and stood on the concrete stoop, tapping her heel. Was this a good idea? What if Gary went to the cops and told them she’d been sticking her nose where he thought it didn’t belong?
Ryan would be irate for going against his request.
Ah well, life was for living and Heather was too curious to worry about that, now.
Dave whined.
“Curiosity did bring the cat back, you know,” she said, and nudged him with the toe of her pump.
She pressed the buzzer beside the door, waited for the responding ‘bzzzz’, then entered.
A receptionist sat behind a wooden desk, painting her nails and flipping through a magazine. She licked her thumb, flipped a page and continued reading, not bothering to glance up.
Heather wrinkled her brow, not that the rude woman noticed.
She stepped forward and peered at the magazine.
Oh, an article
about Amber Heard breaking it off with Johnny Depp. No wonder she was oblivious to the world around her.
“Excuse me,” Heather said, politely as she could manage. She had a lot of stress with the wedding coming up, so it took every ounce of her patience not to slap the woman over the head with her Johnny Depp article.
The receptionist painted another nail. Didn’t answer her.
“Hello!” Heather raised her voice, then rapped her knuckles on the wood of the desk. Dave yapped.
“Yeah, I heard you,” the receptionist said, without looking up from the article.
“I’m here to see Gary Larkin.” Seriously, this was the rudest person she’d encountered. And that said a lot. She’d dealt with the mother of a beauty queen, who also happened to have been a cold-blooded murderer.
“Get in line,” the receptionist replied. Her name tag read Tina Tonks.
Heather glanced around the empty reception area, decorated as it was with brown sofas and a moisture stain on the ceiling.
“What line? There is no line.”
“Then make one,” Tina Tonks replied, flipping the page.
A full two page centerfold of Johnny Depp himself, in a panama hat with a gold earring.
“Tina,” Heather said, “if you don’t make eye contact with me sometime soon, I might let my dog have a wee in here. He’s got an exceptionally weak bladder.”
Dave whined on cue.
“What do I care?” Tina asked, a rhetorical question in monotone, because clearly Tina didn’t care at all.
“Are those knock-off Gucci shoes?” Heather asked. The implication was clear. Especially when Dave whined again.
Finally, Tina Tonks looked up and flicked her bright blue hair back from her eyes. She had smeared on fuchsia lipstick and some of it had transferred to her teeth.
“What do you want?” Tina asked, at last.
“To. See. Gary. Larkin.” Heather said, between gritted teeth.
“He’s not in at the moment.”
“Oh, when will he be back?” Heather asked, and Dave bumped against her leg. Boy, he really did have to go to the bathroom, after all.
Red, White and Blueberry Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 7 Page 3
