Ronald Tombs had called Heather to arrange a business meeting. Her tummy bubbled, and she pressed her palm to it and put up a grin.
Amy bustled into the living room, whistling a tune. She placed three mugs on the table. Marshmallows floated on the surface of the brown liquid, bobbing in the waves of delicious cocoa.
“ – my bike is gone.”
“What was that, Lils?” Heather asked. She’d tuned out the conversation for a sec.
“Someone stole my bike,” Lilly replied. She bit into her donut and chomped mechanically. “Happened like two days ago?”
“You’re kidding,” Amy said.
“Uh-uh. They tried to break into Bill and Colleen’s too. The police guy said that they took the bike because they couldn’t get it.”
“No,” Heather said, and her brow pinched into a frown.
“It doesn’t matter. Like I said, Colleen wouldn’t let me ride it anyway. It’s not a big deal.” Lilly shrugged and eyed the mugs of steaming cocoa.
“It is a big deal. Did the police tell you anything else? Did you see anything else?” Heather asked.
Amy sat down on the sofa beside the girl and settled back. She drew a blanket across her lap. “Heather’s on another case?”
“Not really,” Lilly said, then her eyes widened. “Oh! There were these weird, small footprints in the mud outside the back door. The cops said that it might’ve been a kid my age who took it.”
“A kid your age,” Amy muttered. She met Heather’s gaze. “You thinkin’, what I’m thinkin’?”
Heather tapped her bottom lip. Tiny Tim? Could it be that the man had stolen a kid’s bike? Maybe that was a bit of a stretch.
“I think so.”
“What are you thinking?” Lilly asked, then lifted Dave and put him in her lap.
Heather opened her mouth, then paused. She shook her head. “I think it’s time we watch The Croods. You’re gonna love it.”
“But Heather –”
“No arguments!” Heather held up a palm.
Lilly moaned some more, then quieted and picked up her hot cocoa instead. Trust the prospect of sugary goodness to distract her. She was practically a mini-Amy in the making.
Heather walked to her sofa, mind whirring around the murder and the theft. What did it all mean?
Tomorrow, she’d hunt down Mr. Tiny Tim Belushi and find out for herself.
Chapter 7
Heather placed her fingers on the wrought iron table and winked at Eva. “How are you today, Mrs. Schneider?”
“Mrs. Schneider? You haven’t called me that in ages, dear. What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing,” Heather replied, then chuckled. “I’ve got a lot on my mind, though. Another test in a couple of weeks. A potential investor, and, of course –”
“Bernadette Belushi’s murder case. Oh, I knew you’d take it up the minute it happened.” Eva lifted the mug of bitter coffee to her lips and took a sip. “This town needs your investigative mind, Heather.”
“Did you know her? Bernie, I mean? Did you ever meet her?” She couldn’t shake the memory of the woman’s kind smile. And that of her sister’s sneer.
“Why, yes, I did. She volunteered at Hillside Manor. I went to visit Leila last week, and I found them chatting and playing poker in the room. No bets, of course. Nobody likes a gambler.”
“Did you see anything interesting?” Heather asked.
“Not really. Oh yes, Leila mentioned Bernie’s son and then she grew morose.” Eva put her mug on the glass tabletop, then patted her plum-colored do. “I left shortly after that.”
Another prod from the Universe. Tiny Tim. “Thanks, Eva.”
The bell above the door tinkled, and Amy rushed inside. “There you are,” she said and drew in three deep gasping breaths.
“It’s your day off, Ames. You’re forbidden from entering the store.” Amy had a terrible habit of working herself to the bone.
“You’ve got to come with me, right now.” Amy puffed out her red cheeks, then blew a blast of air upwards and fluffed the hair from her eyes. “Oh hey, Eva. How are you?”
“Mildly alarmed, dear. Are you all right?” Eva shifted around in her seat.
“Yeah, I’m good. I just have to show Heather something,” Amy said, then grabbed Heather by the arm and dragged her off to the door. “Maricela can watch the front, right?”
“Boss?” Maricela called. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Heather said and waved at her over the heads of their customers. “Keep an eye on the store for me, will you?”
Maricela gave her two thumbs up.
“Amy, what on earth has gotten into you?” Heather wrenched her arm from her bestie’s grip. “You’re acting crazed.”
“Sorry, not sorry. Guess who I found in the park? Or who I saw, I mean?”
“Who?”
“You’re supposed to guess, but whatever. Tiny Tim. The Belushi guy,” Amy said. “If you want to meet him, now’s your chance.”
Heather’s guts twisted into a knot. Her chance to interview the mysterious Tiny. “All right,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Heather and Amy waved goodbye to Eva, then burst out of the front door and onto the street.
“We’ve got to get there quick. I don’t know how long he’ll stay there,” Amy said. “He was reading a book.”
Heather and Amy darted across the road, then ran down the sidewalk to the corner. The park was only a street away – not worth the gas. People jumped out of their path. A mom herded her kids to one side of the sidewalk, then flicked her hair back and glared at them.
“You’re going to knock someone over,” she yelled.
They ignored her.
“What did he look like?” Heather asked, in between breaths.
“Small,” Amy replied. “Real small.”
Heather rolled her eyes at the lackluster description. They turned the corner, then slowed their pace to a brisk walk. The park appeared in the distance, trees still beneath the bright, blue morning sky. No breezes, today. Just muggy heat, the last of the summer’s hot days before the nip of Fall.
“There,” Amy said and made eyes at the park bench.
Tim Belushi sat, legs crossed beneath him, and a book lay open on his lap. The bald spot on top of his head glinted, and his nose twisted at an angle, which told of bar fights and hospital stays.
“Oh boy.” He didn’t look like the friendliest dude on the planet. “Here we go.”
“I’ll be back here, smelling the, uh, leaves?” Amy glanced around, but the park’s flowers beds had withered in the heat.
Heather strode to the bench. She stopped in front of Belushi and cleared her throat.
He closed the book on his finger and squinted up at her. “Yeah?”
“Are you Tim Belushi?”
“Tiny,” he said, then gestured to his body. “Can’t you tell?”
What a way to own a nickname. “Yeah, I’m Heather Shepherd. I’m doing your Aunt a favor, by investigating your mother’s murder. My condolences, by the way.” That was the official party line.
If Karly new she was Heather’s main suspect, she’d have kicked her off the front porch and called the cops, immediately.
Tiny rolled his head on his shoulders. “And?” Tiny picked up a Donut Delights box from the bench beside him, opened it, then took out a Green Velvet donut.
Heather blinked. She’d never seen this guy in her life. He’d never bought a donut from the store. Where’d he gotten it?
“And, I wondered if you’d mind answering a couple questions for me.”
“Yeah, I would mind. Any friend of Karly’s is an enemy of mine,” Tine said, then took a bite of the donut. He chewed with his mouth open, the green mush sloshing behind his teeth.
Heather restrained a shudder. “Why is that? You don’t like your Aunt.”
“It’s none of your business who I do and don’t like. Get lost before I call the cops.”
“Tiny,” Heather said. “I’
m just trying to bring your mother’s killer to justice. That’s all.”
“You want my mother’s killer? Maybe you should ask my dear Aunt why she hated her so bad.” Tiny extended his little legs, then hopped off the bench.
The top of his head peeked just above Heather’s navel. He glared up at her and ground his teeth. He mulched the donut into green crumbs and sprinkled it on the ground.
“Stay out of my way,” Tiny said. He pushed past her and marched off down the road, without a backward glance.
“I guess it’s true.” Amy stepped up beside her. “Dynamite does come in small packages.”
“Maybe. Wonder how big the package is for a murderer?” Heather’s sleuth sense tingled in the back of her brain. Tiny Tim gave her the worst kind of creeps.
Chapter 8
Heather sat on the top stair of her porch and held her knees. Sunset spread across the horizon – an orange glaze coating the end of a vanilla-flavored day. Though, Tiny Tim couldn’t be called vanilla.
“You okay?” Ryan sat down and leaned against her. He handed her a cool glass of soda and the ice blocks clinked against the rim of the glass.
“I guess,” Heather said. “Just a very strange day. I’m glad to be home.”
“Why?”
“You know I love it at Donut Delights. I love the staff, the people, the donuts,” she said, “But things are getting heated. I guess you could put it that way. The new investor, the diploma, and now Tiny Tim –
“Tiny Tim?” Ryan froze mid-sip of his drink. “What do you know about Mr. Belushi?”
“Oh boy, judging by your reaction, I’ve stumbled into the donut tray, and the oven is too hot.” Heather slurped some soda and relished the fizzle on her tongue. It slipped down her throat, cooling her from the inside out.
Ryan glanced at the quiet road, then at Heather’s car in the drive. “No, not the oven. More like the volcano.”
“What? How so?”
Ryan sighed and put his glass on the porch. “He’s a suspect in the Bernie Belushi case,” he replied.
“Yeah, I figured. If he’s my suspect, he’s got to be yours too.” Heather met her hubby’s gaze. “But that’s not what you’re talking about, is it?”
“I didn’t want to tell you this because I know you’re going to freak out. I have it under control.” Ryan broke eye contact and stared out at the sunset instead.
“What are you talking about?” Heather asked.
Ryan sucked in a breath and closed one eye. “Don’t freak out. Promise me?”
“Ryan Shepherd, you’d better tell me what’s going on right this second,” she said and lifted her fingers in a pincer. “Don’t make me pinch you.”
“I carry a gun and arrest criminals all day, but that truly terrifies me,” Ryan said, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.
She swatted him on the arm. “Spill it.”
“Tim Belushi is a suspect in another case. You heard that Bill and Colleen’s place was broken into, right?”
Ice dropped into Heather’s stomach and swam through her core. “What? Lilly mentioned her bike was stolen, but not that someone got in.”
“Yeah, well the thief went back and got in the second time around. Lilly called me from her bedroom in a state of panic. She’d locked herself in.”
Heather’s hands shook. Soda plopped over the rim of the glass and onto her jeans. Ryan took the drink from her and put it next to his.
“Calm down. She’s fine. She got a good scare, but the thief wasn’t interested in her. Bill’s widescreen TV, however, was a hot topic. He cleared out the downstairs and got out before we reached the place.”
“When did this happen?” Heather asked, through gritted teeth.
“Yesterday evening, just before Lilly’s foster parents got home from work.”
“I can’t believe it,” Heather replied. “I have to call her and check she’s all right.” She rose, but Ryan grabbed her hand and squeezed to stop her.
“She’s fine, love. She’s with Colleen and Bill. She’d have called you if she needed help,” Ryan said.
Heather twitched from his grasp. “It doesn’t matter. Wait, Tiny is a suspect?”
“That’s right. He’s the main suspect. It turns out he’s got a quite a few priors. Aggravated assault, armed burglary.”
Heather stumbled back and hit the railing. “No.”
“Stop. Relax. She’s fine.”
“She’s fine now, but what would’ve happened if he’d seen her? What if he had a gun?” Heather asked.
“You can’t live in what-if land.” Ryan’s fingertips brushed the grays at his temples.
Heather dug her phone out of her pocket and wiped it off on her shirt – some of that soda had leaked through her jeans. She swiped the screen to unlock, then scrolled through her contacts and selected Bill and Colleen’s home number.
It rang twice and then clicked. “Hello?” Lilly’s voice. Thank goodness.
Relief washed through Heather, and she sagged against the railing. “Lilly. Ryan told me about the burglary. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “It was scary at the time, but now it’s kind of, like, a cool story to tell my friends. This one popular kid at school wouldn’t stop asking me questions about what happened.”
“That’s not something to be excited about. You did the right thing, though. I’m glad you didn’t try to confront the guy,” she said. “Or woman.”
“It was a guy,” Lilly replied. “I heard him grunting around down there. Sounded like he could hardly lift the TV. He broke the coffee table. I think he cut his knee because Colleen wouldn’t let me come downstairs afterward.”
“Blood?”
“I guess.” Lilly sighed. “Au – ugh, Heather, I’ve gotta go. Colleen says I have to do my homework before I get to play games on the computer.”
“Right,” Heather said. “Well, I’m glad you’re safe.”
“Thanks for calling,” Lilly sang, then hung up.
Heather chuckled and dropped her arm to her side. She met her husband’s gaze. “Totally unfazed,” she said. “Kids. Go figure.”
“She’s a resilient girl. She’s been through so much already. This was nothing to her.” Ryan rose and pecked Heather on the forehead. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this under control. We’ve got a DNA sample. All we’ve got to do is bring Tiny in and swab him, compare the profiles and we’ll have our answer.”
“True. Wait, this happened yesterday. You haven’t brought him in yet?” Heather asked.
“Nope. We can’t find him,” Ryan replied. “We’ve got people out looking.”
Heather sighed. Even if Tiny Belushi hadn’t been part of her current investigation, she would’ve looked into this. Lilly had been in danger, for heaven’s sakes!
“You’ve got that look in your eyes,” Ryan said.
Heather pinched the apple of his cheek, gently. “Don’t I always?”
“Good point.”
Chapter 9
Heather, Amy, and Dave trotted up the short path, which twined from the cracked sidewalk and halted in front of the door to Tiny Tim Belushi’s home.
“It’s neat,” Amy said and raised both eyebrows. She readjusted her grip on Dave’s leash, then scratched her nose. “Usually, the bad guys live in dumps.”
“You can’t judge a book by its grime-stained cover,” Heather replied. She stopped in front of the pale, gray door and stared at the brass knocker attached to it. “I wonder what we’re about to find out.”
“How did you find this place, anyway?” Amy asked, then glanced over her shoulder at the street.
Cars rushed by, headlights on beneath the canopy of darkening clouds.
“I asked around in the store. You know what the gossips are like in this town. The Belushi's are new, and that means they’re the talk of Hillside. I barely had to say Tim’s name, and I had his home address scrawled on a napkin.” She took the napkin out of her pocket and wagged it at Amy.
&nb
sp; “Despicable,” Amy said, in a Daffy Duck voice.
Dave barked at her, then got down on all fours and put his paws over his ears.
“Everybody’s a critic.” Amy nudged the dog with the toe of her stylish, ankle boot. “Hey, don’t you have a meeting with that Tombs guy today?”
“In an hour. Plenty of time to get this done, then get back to the bakery for donuts and business.”
“Those always mix well,” Amy said, somberly.
Heather lifted the brass knocker and dropped it against the wood. One time, two and three.
“Comin’!” A woman yelled inside, muffled by the door. “Just hold on one hot second. Everyone in this stupid town is so impatient.”
“That’s a good start,” Amy whispered. Dave got up from his embarrassed position on the stones in front of the house. He backed into Amy’s legs and sat down on her boot. “Really, Dave?”
He didn’t budge.
A lock scraped back, and the door swung inward. A tall blonde woman appeared. She poked her face through the gap, then looked them up and down. “You’re not a cop,” she said.
“Heaven forbid,” Amy replied. “I hear they get paid next to nothing.”
Heather elbowed her bestie. “No, I’m not. I came looking for Tiny. Is he here?”
“Pfft, you and everybody else are lookin’ for him.” The woman wiped her palm down the side of her pants, then stuck it out for a shake. “Lavender’s, my name. Like the girl from Harry Potter.”
“Didn’t take you for a Pothead,” Amy replied.
“’Scuse me?” Lavender asked and snapped her arm back to her side.
“Potterhead, I mean. Everyone’s so touchy.”
Heather held her giggles in, then shuffled forward a step. “You say everyone’s looking for Tiny?”
“Yeah, he ran off yesterday. Left me because he couldn’t handle the pressure of being with someone so tall. That was his excuse,” she said and sniffed. “I’m not buying it. He’s in trouble, isn’t he?”
“I’m not at liberty to say,” Heather replied.
“I am!” Amy lifted her finger into the air. “And yeah, he’s probably in trouble. May we come in?”
Green Velvet Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 16 Page 3
