by Jessica Beck
“Momma, I need a ride.”
“Suzanne, why aren’t you at the donut shop? Did something happen to your Jeep on the way over there? No, you’ve been gone hours, so it can’t be that.”
There was no way I was going to get out of an explanation, but I didn’t have to do it in the radio station parking lot. Still, I had to give her something. “Lester Moorefield is dead, and someone left one of my pastries on the scene to implicate me. I don’t want to get into it now. Could you come to the radio station?”
“I’ll be there in six minutes,” she said.
While I was waiting, the chief came back out. “Sorry it’s taking so long. Do you want me to drive you back myself?”
“Thanks, but Momma’s coming for me.”
He stood up straighter at the news, and I saw him pull in his stomach, even though my mother was nowhere in sight. The chief had a crush on my mother that dated back to their days in high school, and it was readily apparent to everyone in town that the flames had only grown brighter since.
When Momma drove up, I wasn’t all that surprised when the chief walked me to her car.
“Good morning, Dorothy,” he said as he tipped his hat to her.
“Hello, Phillip.”
“I was wondering if I might have a word with you?” he asked.
“At this hour? I need to get Suzanne back to her shop.”
He wasn’t about to be denied, though. “This won’t take a second.”
Momma put the car in park. “Very well, if you can make it quick.”
She got out, and I started to follow them.
Momma wasn’t about to allow that, though. “Wait in the car, Suzanne. I won’t be a minute. I promise.”
As much as I wanted to hear what the chief had to say, I knew that tone of voice. I walked to the car and sat in silence. Just because I wasn’t able to eavesdrop didn’t mean I couldn’t watch them. The chief said something to her, she frowned, shook her head, and then started to walk back to the car. He said something else with some urgency, and she paused just long enough to look back at him for a moment and make one parting comment.
By the time Momma got to the car, I was dying to hear what had been so important about their conversation.
“What was that all about?” I asked.
“I want to hear about what happened to Lester,” Momma said.
I wasn’t about to let her get away with that. “I saw the way you two were talking. You weren’t discussing the cycles of the moon. What did he have to say?” Before she could reply, I quickly added, “Momma, you know better than anybody in the world that I’ve got a stubborn streak bigger than yours. Why don’t you make it easy on both of us and tell me what just happened.”
She mulled that over for thirty seconds, and while she did, I kept my mouth shut. The only thing I could do to wreck it right now was to say something she could use to rebut my argument.
“Very well,” she finally said. “He told me he’s moved out of his house and filed for divorce. His wife wants out as well, so she’s going to Nevada to make it happen quickly.”
“So the grapevine’s true yet again,” I said. “Was that all?”
“Isn’t that enough?” Momma asked.
I replayed what I’d seen of their conversation in my mind. “He said something else, didn’t he? You weren’t pleased to hear it, either.”
“Suzanne, were you spying on me?”
I smiled brightly at her. “You bet I was. What else did he say?”
“If you must know, he asked me out to dinner,” Momma said.
She was clearly expecting a reaction from me, but I wasn’t going to give her one.
After a moment, Momma asked, “Are you telling me that you don’t have any comment about that?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I paused a second, and then said, “I do have a question, though.”
She took a deep breath, and then before I could ask, she said, “I turned him down. No one should be surprised by that.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him,” I said.
She looked shocked by my response. “I wasn’t aware you’d become such a big fan of our chief of police, Suzanne.”
“We don’t always see eye to eye, but it wouldn’t kill you to go out on a date. If you don’t like him, pick someone else. Isn’t it time you let Dad go?”
She pulled up in front of Donut Hearts, and I could see that Emma had her hands full inside the shop. I should have jumped out and run in to help her, but this was more important to me.
Was that a tear tracking down her cheek? She wiped it away so quickly, I couldn’t be certain that I’d seen it at all. “Sometimes I wish I could, but I don’t think I can,” she said softly.
I touched her arm lightly. “It’s not being disloyal, if that’s what you’re worried about. You deserve to have a life of your own again; you know that, don’t you?”
She frowned and said, “Don’t worry about me. I’m happy enough.”
“Really? And just exactly how happy is enough?” I asked gently.
She appeared to think about it for a moment, and then shook her head. “You’ve got customers. You need to go.”
“You’re more important to me. They can wait,” I said.
“Well, I can’t,” Momma replied, clearly finished with our conversation. “I have a full schedule today, so I’d better get started.”
As I started to get out of the car, I said, “I promised you that I’d tell you about Lester. I can hang around and fill you in, if you’d like.”
“I know the basics of what happened, and I’m sure the town gossips will fill in the rest. Have a good morning, Suzanne.” It was clear that she wanted to get away from me, and the conversation that we’d just had. There was no use arguing with her.
“I hope you do, too,” I said as I closed the door. I waved to her as she drove back home, but if she noticed, she failed to return it. I hadn’t meant to push my mother so hard, but I worried about her just as much as she worried about me. I knew that moving back in with her after my divorce from Max hadn’t been all that easy on either one of us, but we’d come to a good arrangement since then, and most days we got along pretty well.
But what if things kept progressing with Jake? Could I ever leave her alone again? As things stood, I couldn’t imagine abandoning her, for whatever reason. So I suppose, in a way, my urging her to jump back into dating had a hint of self-interest in it, as well.
The bottom line, though, was that I wanted her to be happy.
CHAPTER 3
“What did I miss?” George Morris asked as I walked back into Donut Hearts. I should have known that, given his background in law enforcement, he’d be aware of what was going on before anyone else in town. He’d told me on more than one occasion that he went to bed at night with his police scanner on, listening to what was going on in April Springs, just in case.
“Give me a second,” I said as I grabbed my apron from behind the counter. “We can talk about it after the rush.”
“I’ll be over there when you’re ready for me,” he said as he pointed to the far end of the counter.
“Who’s next?” I asked the waiting line of people.
Emma looked so happy to see me that I thought she might start crying.
After we got through most of our customers together, Emma said, “If it’s okay with you, I think I’ll get started on more dishes in back.”
“That’s fine. And Emma?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks for pitching in.”
“Glad to,” she said as she hurried back into our kitchen. Yet again, I wondered what I would ever do without her.
As I knew he would, George had stuck around. I grabbed one of the experimental donuts I’d made that morning, marveling that it had just been hours ago, and not days. A great deal had happened since I’d worked on that batter.
“Before we get into any details, try this,” I said as I offered it to him.
George studied the donut, broke it
in half, and then smelled it.
“It’s peanut butter,” he said.
“Very good. But how does it taste?”
“I don’t like peanut butter,” George said with a frown.
“Then don’t try it,” I replied as I tried to get it back from him.
He was too fast for me, though. “Hang on a second. I didn’t say I wouldn’t at least taste it.”
“If you don’t like peanut butter, I don’t think you’ll be able to give it a fair shake, do you? It’s no problem, you’ve tasted enough donuts for me over the years. You can take a pass every now and then. Let me have it and I’ll toss it in the trash.”
George started to do just that, but at the last second, he popped a bit into his mouth.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said.
“Milk,” he growled.
I grabbed a pint carton from the fridge and handed it to him. He opened it and took a healthy swallow. Then, after a moment’s consideration, George said, “It’s not that bad.”
“But not good, either, right?”
“I’m not sure.” George took another bite, and chased it with milk, as well. “Like I say, it’s not bad at all.” He finished the sample, then asked, “Do you have any more?”
“I didn’t think you were a fan,” I said.
“Hey, a guy’s got the right to change his mind, doesn’t he?”
I couldn’t help myself; I laughed. “You are too funny.”
George wiped his hands on a napkin, drained the rest of the milk, and then said, “Enough taste-testing, Suzanne. Tell me about what happened.”
“Officer Grant came by this morning to take me to the—”
George cut me off. “From the beginning. Start last night. How did you know about the radio commentary?”
“Did you hear it, too?”
“I usually keep it on in the background, but when Lester mentioned this place, I perked right up.”
“That’s how I heard about it myself.”
“I bet you went ballistic,” George said with a slight smile.
“Actually, I thought I was pretty calm the way I handled it,” I said.
He laughed at that. “Okay, if you say so.”
I knew he didn’t believe me, and I couldn’t blame him. “Fine, I blew up, but who in April Springs would be surprised by that? Not only did he attack my shop, he came after me and my livelihood.”
In a gentle tone, he said, “You had plenty of reason to go after him, but it’s amazing the chief hasn’t locked you up yet.”
“He might have ulterior motives for being nice to me,” I said, remembering his chat with my mother in the parking lot.
“What do you mean by that?”
Did I really want to get into that with George? “Forget I said anything. I admit that I was mad at Lester last night, but I didn’t kill him. That particular thought never even crossed my mind.”
“What kind of punishment did?” George asked, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“I considered how much fun it would be to cover him with honey and stake him out on an anthill,” I admitted. “Then again, even that much sweetness probably wouldn’t make him palatable.” What was I doing, speaking ill of the dead like that? I knew better, and I suddenly felt ashamed of my behavior. “Let’s just take it for granted that I’m innocent and go from there.”
George looked down at the counter, and used his index finger to trace patterns on the top for a few moments before speaking. “Suzanne, I’m guessing we’re going to dig into this, right?”
I hadn’t had a chance to even catch my breath yet, but I realized I didn’t have any choice but to pursue it. Even if the presence of one of my éclairs at the crime scene was purely a coincidence, folks would be looking long and hard at me for the rest of my life if Lester’s killer wasn’t brought to justice.
“I don’t think we have much choice, do you?”
George shrugged. “The chief isn’t going to like it.”
“Has he ever? I’ll do my best not to make him mad, but I’m not making any promises, okay?”
“Okay by me.” George stood, pulled a few dollars from his wallet, and put them on the counter.
I shoved the money back toward him. “Your breakfast is on the house.”
“Why should it be?”
I grinned at him. “You’re on the payroll again, and all I can afford is coffee, milk, and donuts. Does that work for you?”
He scooped the bills up and tucked them back into his wallet. “Honestly, it sounds pretty darn good.”
“Where are you going?” I asked him.
“It’s time to start digging.”
“Come back at noon and we can come up with a game plan.”
“It’s a date.”
After he was gone, I thought about who might want Lester dead. Besides me, that is. I didn’t even know where to start. That wasn’t entirely true. His producer, Cara, might be a good source of information. If anyone knew Lester’s secrets, and who might have reason to want him dead, it had to be her. As a matter of fact, it might not be a bad idea to give her a call and set up an appointment. Maybe I could take her to lunch at the Boxcar Grill later.
I was dialing the station’s number when I put the telephone down. A new wave of customers was coming in, and I had to delay my investigation into Lester’s demise. I had a job to do, and it was selling donuts. The investigation would have to wait.
After selling a few random dozen donuts, I decided to make that call while I had the chance.
I wasn’t sure she’d still be at the station, but it was the only number I had for Cara. To my relief, she picked up on the fourth ring.
“Hey, Cara. It’s Suzanne Hart. I was wondering if you might be free for lunch. It’s my treat.”
“I really can’t afford to say no to a free lunch. I just found out the station manager is seriously thinking about letting me go.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“It wasn’t like I wasn’t expecting it. I’m not sure what I’m going to do now. Maybe I can get the new talent to keep me on.”
“The lunch offer isn’t exactly free,” I admitted, my conscience getting the better of me. “I’d like to grill you about Lester.”
“Ugh. Do I have to? I’ve been talking to the police chief most of the morning.”
“Of course not,” I said. “I’ll buy you lunch anyway. How’s the Boxcar sound around twelve-fifteen?”
“That would be great. See you there. And Suzanne? I’ll answer your questions. You’ve got a stake in this, too, don’t you?”
“More than I’d like.”
I was nearly finished for the day as the clock approached noon when a heavyset man dressed in a full-blown clown outfit came in the door. The bright orange fright wig, the greasepainted face, the red rubber ball nose, and the garish outfit gave me the creeps from the second I saw him walking toward the shop in his floppy red oversized shoes.
“Sorry. We’re all out of donuts,” I said before he could place an order.
“Come on. The display case has plenty left,” he said in a whiny voice. I saw a badge on his costume that declared that his name was Officer Zippy. “You can’t discriminate against anyone, not even clowns.”
I tapped a sign behind the counter and read it to him. “We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone.”
“What have you got against clowns, lady?”
I wasn’t about to tell him that one of his brethren had ruined my fourth birthday party by scaring the stuffing out of me. I grabbed a glazed donut, shoved it in a bag, and then pushed it toward him. “Here, take this. You can’t eat it in here, though.”
He shook his head in clear disgust, but he still took the bag and left. I wasn’t sure how my customers would react, but I was gratified to hear them applauding as soon as Zippy was gone.
“Sorry about that,” I said.
“Are you kidding me?” a heavyset trucker asked. “If he’d sat down, I was out of here. T
hose guys give me the jitters.”
Another diner said, “I don’t even think he had a gig. I’m guessing he dresses that way just for fun.”
Emma came out at the sound of the commotion. “Is something going on? What did I miss?”
“Not much. Some clown came in here and tried to buy a donut,” I said. There was general laughter around the shop at that.
Emma looked perplexed. “What’s so funny about that? We get clowns in here all the time.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “When I say a clown, I mean a clown: makeup, fright wig, and red nose. I threw him out.”
The disappointment was clear on her face. “Why did you do that? I happen to love clowns.”
There was a chorus of boos generated from her announcement, and Emma shook her head in confusion as she disappeared back into the kitchen. It was no wonder she preferred to stay in the kitchen where life made more sense to her. I thought she was missing out on all the fun.
By the time we were ready to close, there weren’t enough donuts left to matter. I bagged them and gave them to Emma. “Why don’t you take these over to your dad?”
“I’m sure he’d love it, but Mom’s got him on another diet.”
I didn’t need the calories, either. It was too tempting to taste the fresh donuts as they got their shower of glaze; taking home leftovers was out of the question. They would sit there in the bag calling me until I’d eaten every last one of them.
“That’s fine. I’ll just give them to George.”
“Give George what?” a familiar voice said as he came into the shop.
“Speak of the devil, and he appears,” I said with a smile.
“Not sure I like the comparison,” George said as he sat at the bar.
“Let me make it up to you.” I slid the bag of donuts toward him.
He peeked inside, and then smiled. “On second thought, call me whatever you like. Suzanne, do you have a second?”
“Just that. Can we talk while I work? I need to clean up. I’m meeting Cara for lunch to see if I can get any information out of her about Lester.”
“I was going to suggest that myself. Nice thinking.” I saw his glance dart back to the bag.
I grinned at him and served him a cup of coffee. “Go ahead and have one.”
