It was too easy.
The front door opened and Ken strolled in for his shift, wearing a camera around his neck, suspended by a thick strap.
Heather blinked and did a double take. Ryan followed her gaze.
“Heather,” he said, and grabbed her hand. “Relax, please, you’re seeing signs in everything. I’m beginning to think the upcoming wedding, the cases in the past, all of it seems to be getting to you.”
“No, I’m fine,” Heather said. But she wasn’t truly ‘fine’ and it had nothing to do with wedding stress or anything else, except for the pure and simple fact that this case wasn’t over.
Ken walked to the front and spoke enthusiastically with Angelica, who grinned and chatted back. Her two assistants, getting on as they should. Heather pursed her lips and wriggled them around.
Since when had Ken taken up photography?
“Heather? Halloo, Earth to Heather.” Ryan patted her forearm.
“Oh, sorry. I was somewhere else completely. What’s up?” Heather asked.
“I was saying we should get together tonight to plan the wedding. Meet up at a restaurant first, have a little dinner, then have coffee and discuss it.” Ryan’s face was alight with anticipation. He’d already forgiven her for going against his word, and all he wanted was to spend time with his fiancé.
“Yes,” Heather replied, managing a smile. “Yes, that would be wonderful. I’ll call Amy and ask her to babysit Dave.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll love that,” Ryan chuckled.
Heather laughed with him. The cogs in her brain clicked and turned. Clues in a case, evidence, suspects, but none of it added up to a random waitress attacking an innocent old lady over a cold meal.
There had to be another answer. And Heather would find it.
Chapter 13
Heather stood behind the counter in Donut Delights, and grinned at one of her regulars. She was a teenager, Janice, who came in after soccer practice, on most weekdays, hungry for whatever donut was new or on special.
“How’s life treating you?” Heather asked.
“Great. Loving the soccer,” Janice replied, between mouthfuls of donut. “And hey, I still get allowance from the rents, so I get to have donuts every day. It’s pretty awesome.”
“That is awesome,” Heather said, and handed over the closed box of donuts which Janice had ordered to go. She was a good kid, always ordered an extra half dozen for her parents.
“Awesome sauce! See ya around, Heather,” Janice said, and waved with the donut, then hustled past the queue of hungry customers and out into the boiling heat. An oven-like wind baked the street outside, driving more and more people inside, seeking iced coffees and sweet sustenance.
Heather certainly wouldn’t complain about that.
She focused on serving customers, but every now and then a stray thought would creep into her mind. What if Ryan and the cops had apprehended the wrong person? What if Eva was still in danger? Or Soupy for that matter.
She did her best to put on a smile, laugh and be jovial. After a while, her jaw strained from over compensating.
“Uh, boss? You kinda look like a Cheshire cat,” Jung said, giving her the side-eye.
“I can’t help it,” she said, massaging her jaw. “I’m worrying constantly about Eva and if I don’t put on a super bright smile, the customers might get a frown instead.”
“Maybe you should take a break.”
“It’s good to keep busy,” Heather said, by way of explanation. “Besides, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
The line of customers dwindled at last, and Heather turned to face her assistant head-on. He handed her a cup of coffee before she could get down to business.
“You’ve seen Ken with the camera, right?” Heather asked.
“Yeah, sure. He told me he’s started taking photography classes. He really wants to get into it.”
“I see,” Heather said, and slurped down some coffee. The bitter liquid swirled down the back of her throat and sploshed into an empty belly. “I see.”
“Uh oh, what’s this about? You’ve got that ‘Sleuth Gone Wild’ look in your eye.”
Heather snorted and a bit of coffee sprayed from her nose. She dabbed at it with a handkerchief, eyes watering. “Sleuth Gone Wild?”
“Yes, like you’re onto something. Has this got to do with Eva?” Jung asked, edging closer and lowering his voice.
The door to the bakery slammed open, hard. The interior fell quiet immediately, which was no mean feat, since at least forty people were crammed into the small space.
Gary Larkin stood just inside, glaring directly at Heather.
“And this is where I make a hasty exit,” Jung murmured, backing away slowly.
“Traitor,” Heather whispered, but she didn’t mean it, of course.
Slowly, the buzz of conversation picked up again. People returned to their donuts and chat.
Gary Larkin continued staring as if Heather was his focal point, the center of his universe.
Blegh. That would be the worst place to be.
“Heather Janke,” he said, striding between tables, bumping the backs of chairs and ignoring protests from the other customers.
“Well, hello there, Gary. Fancy seeing you here,” she said, lightly. She tucked her hands behind her back and gripped her apron strings for support. She truly despised conflict and it was clear that that was exactly what Gary had on his mind.
“As if you haven’t done enough,” he said, loudly.
A few of the people at tables closest to the front perked up at the insinuation of fresh gossip.
That was one thing about the citizens of Hillside, they sure loved their gossip.
By nightfall, the story of Gary Larkin’s appearance in Donut Delights would’ve been upgraded to a full scale confrontation, police and ambulance called for good measure.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Heather asked, amiably. The best defense was a smile. Always, a smile.
Unless you were attacked and forced into a freezer. Then the best defense was a pack of frozen sausages.
“You can help me by never coming near my offices again. Tina told me what you did.”
“I don’t know what shocks me more, that Tina remembered or that she even told you. She’s not exactly employee of the month,” Heather replied. She wasn’t snarky, just trying to deal with Gary as best she could.
“Don’t get smart with me, woman. I know what you’re up to. You’re trying to destroy me, again!”
“I didn’t destroy you, Gary. I didn’t get you kicked off the Chamber of Commerce. You did that all by yourself.”
Bad thing to say.
Gary Larkin drew himself up straight and puffed out his chest. “How dare you!” He yelled.
That yell woke up Dave, who’d been curled up in the corner on his velour cushion. He barked at Gary for daring to yell at his beloved mistress.
“How dare you!” Gary yelled.
“Mr. Larkin,” Heather said, formally, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re disturbing my customers.”
“You horrible, egregious woman!”
“That’s not the right use of egregious.”
Gary slammed his fists down on the glass counter. A few people yelled in surprise.
And Dave, oh boy, Dave had had enough of Gary’s behavior.
He hopped off his cushion and scooted around the counter, growling and barking, a dog possessed. He launched himself at Gary and grabbed hold of the leg of his pants, then tugged with all his might.
The situation quickly devolved.
Gary yelled and spun in circles, Dave growled and ripped the pants, people screamed, others laughed.
“Dave no!” Heather yelled.
But Dave was in no mood for instruction. He ripped, growled and tugged until finally…
Riiiiiip.
Gary’s pants tore at the seam.
Thump
!
An object dropped to the floor. Heather leaned forward to catch a glimpse of it, just as Gary dropped to pick it up.
A camera. It was a camera.
Gary met Heather’s gaze, then turned and fled the bakery.
Chapter 14
Heather sat beside Eva’s hospital bed and sighed. She stroked the old lady’s wrinkled forehead, thinking back to her stories, and their times chatting together. It’d been great fun and Eva had been a friend whenever Heather needed her.
She had to return that favor.
She couldn’t exactly jolt Eva out of her coma – boy that would help solve the crime – but she could continue on the path she’d set off down the minute she’d heard about the attack.
“I’ll find out who did this to you,” she whispered, “the real attacker.”
It was ridiculous. It wasn’t as if she had any indication that the waitress Ryan had arrested wasn’t the real attacker.
Heather rubbed her hands together and resisted the urge to fetch herself one of those terrible hospital coffees.
Gary Larkin was on her mind, all right. That trick in Donut Delights had brought the police, but when they realized that he was gone, they’d left. The camera. That was what got to her.
He’d been all fury and fire until the camera dropped from his pocket and he saw her looking at it. Could he be the one who’d taken the picture?
Could he be Eva’s attacker?
The door to the private room swung inwards, and a nurse bustled in, carrying a clipboard and a new IV bag.
“Hi there,” she said, “I didn’t expect her to have any company today. I can come back another time.”
“No, that’s all right,” Heather said. A light clicked on in the dark recesses of her mind. “Wait a second, what do you mean ‘today’? Who else has been visiting with Eva?”
The nurse removed the old IV bag and clipped on the new one, then checked it worked. “What?” She asked, focusing on Heather again. “Oh, no one, really, but there is this sort of funny character who keeps trying to visit her.”
“A funny character?” Heather only knew one ‘funny character’ in Hillside, and he happened to have tufty hair above each ear, and a loose relationship with curfews.
“Yes, we haven’t let him through yet. We screen visitors for our patients, as you know, and he refused to provide identification.” The nurse sniffed. “I was at the nurse’s station near reception when he came in the first time. He kicked up quite a fuss when they wouldn’t let him past.”
“The first time?”
“Yes, he tried at least two more times. On the last occasion, he tried to sneak right past the reception desk,” the nurse replied, walking two fingers in mid-air.
The nurse was in her mid-twenties, with an easy smile and an open, honest face. She’d tied her tight, dark braids back into a ponytail.
“What’s your name?” Heather asked.
“Lara,” she replied, with a grin.
“I’m Heather Janke,” she said, then sucked in a breath. “Lara, could you do me a favor and call the cops?”
“Oh my goodness, what for?”
“I need to talk to one of them. Detective Ryan Shepherd specifically.” Heather had left her phone at home. She’d wanted to switch off the outside world during her visit with Eva.
“Of course, I can do that for you. I’ll ask them to come down here.” Lara’s dark brow wrinkled. “This has to do with the unwelcome visitor, I take it?”
“Absolutely.”
Lara nodded and hurried out of the room, taking the empty IV bag with her.
Heather was alone with her thoughts again, and her thoughts were particularly cloying. They chased her conscience around in circles.
What if it was Soupy? What if he’d come to attack Eva, to kill her even? No, but Soupy wouldn’t do that. He was the scared one, and the picture that’d been taken had been of him and Heather.
But wait, he could’ve easily asked someone to take the picture of them together, then faked his fear.
Twenty agonizing minutes passed.
Finally, the door to the room opened again, and Ryan strolled in, handsome in his uniform.
She rose, then gave him a tight squeeze.
He held her out at arm’s length and searched her face. “What’s the matter? Why didn’t you answer your cell?”
“Oh, I left it at home. I wanted to be alone with Eva and my thoughts. Turns out that was a good idea.”
“Why?”
“You can ask Nurse Lara or any of the receptionists about this, to verify the story, but apparently, there’s been a shady character, a man, hanging around the hospital and trying to get into Eva’s room.” Heather nodded. “I’m sure it’s the attacker.”
“Heather,” Ryan said, then shook his head. “We have Eva’s attacker in custody.”
“Have you gotten the DNA results back yet?”
“Well, no, but I’m sure that –”
Heather pulled back from her fiancé and folded her arms. She raised her chin and looked down at him. Sort of up and down, since he was taller than her. “Then you can’t possibly say that it’s definitely her.”
“There’s evidence –”
“Ryan, I’m not asking you to arrest anyone. Just put a security detail on Eva’s room, please. There’s clearly somebody sneaking around.” She was grasping at straws in her argument. “Ah, it might even be one of your suspect’s relatives seeking revenge.”
Ryan thought it over for a minute, glanced at Eva, surrounded by tubes and machines and looking awfully small. He nodded, at last. “I’ll see to it. But you have to promise me that you won’t do any more investigating.”
“I wasn’t investigating,” she replied, innocently.
Ryan grunted, but she still didn’t make the promise. How could she when she had yet another lead, one she had to follow through on the minute she left the hospital room.
“Trust me,” Ryan said, “the cops have got this under control.”
“If you say so.” She said it too soft for him to make out.
Chapter 15
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Amy said, in another of her classic stage whispers.
They were inside Hillside Manor, after managing to jimmy the window into the hall open, and slip through. Amy had had to hand Dave through the window, which he’d enjoyed, since he loved the attention.
Either way, all three of them were inside, hovering in the hall like cat burglars.
Dave seemed to understand how important this was, because he was quiet for once.
“Remind me why we didn’t come during the day?” Amy whispered, checking to see if the coast was clear. Her head swiveled left and right, constantly.
“I want to check out Soupy’s room while he’s sleeping.” Heather sniffed. “I’m beginning to wonder about this place. Security is really lax.”
“Well, I highly doubt they expect their residents to go walkies in the middle of the night. Or that anyone would break in to snoop in a pensioner’s bedroom.”
“This is ludicrous, isn’t it?” Heather asked.
Amy shrugged, but the seed of embarrassment was planted.
She’d been absolutely certain that Soupy was the ‘funny character’ who’d been sneaking around the hospital. His behavior fit that Modus Operandi. He’d lied about Eva visiting him, Dave had found a Donut Delights donut under his bed, and he’d been escaping Hillside Manor with shocking ease.
But now, she wasn’t as sure.
What if this was another of her assumptions?
She’d been wrong before.
“Are we doing this? Or do you want to stand in this super spooky hall all night long?” Amy hissed.
“Coming,” Heather whispered, and rushed up behind her friend, and Dave, who’d already set off down the hall. “Ames, what if I’m wrong about this? What if I was wrong about this whole thing and I should’ve spent my time planning the wedding instead of sleuthin’?”
“Don�
��t be so hard on yourself,” Amy replied. “I think you’ve done the right thing. Something about Soupy doesn’t feel right and I’m keen to find out what.”
“Uh oh, looks like you’ve got my investigation bug.” Heather looped her arm through her friend’s and they hurried down the hall together.
Soupy’s room was close. They checked the brass numbers on each door. All the lights in the room were off, except for one.
“Shoot,” Heather said, “he’s awake.”
Muffled voices travelled down the hall. Amy and Heather shared a glance.
Who would Soupy be talking to at this hour?
They crept closer, Heather checked on Dave, who kept close to her legs and silent as he could, given that his claws pat, pat, pattered on the linoleum floor.
They stopped just outside Soupy’s door, and Heather placed her palm against the cool brass knob. The teak scent of wood, the sweetness of ancient varnish, tickled her nostalgia nerve.
She moved to open it, but Amy grabbed her before she could. “Wait,” she mouthed. “Listen.”
Heather nodded and let go of the handle.
They leaned in and placed their ears against the door. Boy, if Soupy opened it now, wouldn’t they look like two ripe bananas standing there, eavesdropping.
“Why do you think I’m here?” A man spoke. A voice that she recognized but couldn’t quite place. It was calm and quiet, but there was a grunt to it.
“I don’t care. Get out before I call security,” Soupy replied, loudly. He was definitely aggravated. “I know who you are. You’re the one who’s been sendin’ them pictures. You hurt Eva.”
“Eva. Yes, she was an unfortunate casualty but I had to do that to get what I wanted.”
“Get out,” Soup repeated.
“I don’t think so. You see, Soupy,” the man hissed, mocking the nickname, “I’ve come for my payout and you can believe that I’m going to get it.”
Amy and Heather exchanged looks. Payout? Was there money involved in this?
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Soupy grunted. A clatter of plastic and then silence.
“Don’t try to call the front desk again. You’ll regret it.” The man’s footsteps travelled back and forth on the floor in Soupy’s room. Heavy footsteps.
Red, White and Blueberry Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 7 Page 5
