“Coffee refill time.” Amy poured the dark fluid into Eva’s cup, then offered some to Heather.
“No thanks.” She covered the top of her cup. “I think I need to calm down. This case has got my head spinning.”
The bell tinkled again, and the front door slapped closed.
All three women jumped, and Heather frowned. Her customers didn’t slam her front door.
She turned and grasped the back of her seat. Her heart dropped.
Kate Laverne stood just inside the door and glared at her. “Who do you think you’re playing with, woman?” She took two steps toward Eva’s table.
Amy cleared her throat. “That’s my cue,” she said and hurried off to refill more coffees.
“Traitor,” Heather called after her. She hardened her mind against the deluge of Laverne quips and insults which would surely follow, then faced the woman herself. “Kate. I would say it’s a pleasure to see you, but I avoid lying.”
“Oh my,” Eva said. Her version of ‘oh snap’ or as Lilly would say, ‘burn.’
“I saw you in my bakery,” Kate said.
“I’m not allowed to check out the competition?” Heather asked. So much for that not lying thing. She’d only wanted to overhear the conversation which had led to the arrest of Lottie Jameson. Ugh, even worse.
“Whatever. You didn’t buy anything. Maybe you need a lesson on what’s good and what’s not, but you can’t come in my store without buying a cupcake.” Kate folded her arms and did a head wiggle to rival the sassiest of teenagers.
“I’ll bear that in mind. Now that you mention it,” Heather said, “are you going to buy something?”
“Oh my,” Eva repeated.
Kate’s lips writhed in a straight line. They practically danced off her face. She huffed out two massive breaths, then spun on her heel and stormed out of the store. She bashed past several customers on her way out.
“Well,” Eva said, “she seems lovely.”
“She’s a piece of work, all right. She’s been trying to discredit me ever since she got back into town. Even accused me of murder, I believe.” Heather couldn’t help but smile.
If she didn’t, she’d probably burst into tears. The pressure of the past week was too much.
Eva tapped her nails on the glass top. “Heather, I might be mistaken, but isn’t it your birthday next week?”
Heather pressed her finger to her lips. “Not too loud. I don’t want the others to find out. I really don’t want a big fuss. I’m getting older. I’m not sure it’s something I care to celebrate.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, dear,” Eva said and winked. “You’ll never keep this from them. You deserve a good time. A break.”
Heather sat back and took a sip of her coffee. She eyed the chocolate draped donut on the plate in front of her. The pistachios peered up at her, beckoning in all their salty goodness.
“Maybe you’re right,” Heather replied. “But I don’t think I’m going to get one anytime soon.”
Chapter 13
Heather set a swift pace. Her boots crunched on bits of leaves and gravel on the sidewalk, and Amy huffed and puffed beside her.
“What is going on?” She asked. “Why did we have to rush out of there?”
“Because Lottie was arrested and it doesn’t feel right.”
“It doesn’t feel right?” Amy asked.
Luckily, they hadn’t had time to stop and pick up ol’ Davey boy from the house, or he’d have spent the entire trip whining about the speed.
“No. It doesn’t. And I’m trusting my gut on this one.” Heather folded her arms to block the chilly wind which swept down the road. “Lottie said she saw George as she left the hotel room.”
“She could’ve been lying,” Amy replied, and sucked in breaths. She pumped her arms back and forth to keep up.
“True. But I owe to myself and to her to check out all the possibilities,” Heather replied. “I owe it to Tina’s memory.”
They turned the corner and streaked toward George’s office building. Two figures waxed ahead of them. A man in a suit and a greasy-haired guy who shifted from one foot to the other.
A shout rang out.
“Here,” Heather said and grasped her bestie’s arm. She dragged her into the mouth of the alley nearest to them.
“Are they fighting?” Amy whispered.
“Let’s find out.” Heather crept across to the other wall, then pressed herself to it and peered around the corner.
Mike Martin paced back and forth in front of George Rockwell, a few feet from the front of the building.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Mike said and gesticulated. He stopped moving and glared at George. “This is the last thing I expected.”
“This week has been a mess, Mike,” George said, and the wind flapped his navy blue tie. He grabbed it and flattened it against his chest. “I’ve got questions from investors, people dropping out of the business. I can’t afford to lose any airtime. This was going to be one of our opening pieces.”
“I’m aware of that,” Mike replied, through gritted teeth. “But you chose her? She doesn’t have any experience in the field.”
“Lottie’s an actress. She’ll come through.” George shifted, and Heather darted back behind the brick wall.
“Wait a second,” Amy whispered. “Do they even know Lottie’s been arrested? I mean, it’s major headlines in all our papers.”
“Maybe they haven’t seen any yet,” Heather said and touched her fingers to her watch. “It’s still early.”
Heather returned to her spy mission.
“Haven’t I done enough for you?” Mike asked. “I’ve covered your tracks on so many occasions. Countless occasions and this is how you repay me?”
“You’ll get your turn,” George said and backed away from the cameraman. “Please, don’t cause a scene, Mike. I’ve got a lot to deal with.”
“And I don’t? I’ve got bills to pay.”
“What are you talking about?” George asked, and halted his backward crawl to safety. “I’m paying for your hotel room. I’m paying for all our rooms until we get set up here.”
“I need more money,” Mike said. “Give me a raise or you can find yourself another cameraman for this event.”
“It shouldn’t be that difficult,” George replied, coldly. “Don’t threaten me, kid. I’ve been in this game a lot longer than you have. You threaten me, and you’ll regret it. Mark my words.”
Mike Martin spluttered and clenched his fists. The wind swept past him, but his hair didn’t move an inch. Had to be all that grease.
“Is that a threat?” Mike asked, at last.
George narrowed his eyes and stepped closer to the other man. “It’s a promise.”
Mike’s shoulders rose and fell. The air solidified – tension made flesh.
Heather dug her fingernails into the mortar between the bricks. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the altercation.
Finally, George relaxed and stepped back. “Here’s the deal, kid,” he said, “fall in line or get lost. I’ve got my lead, and that’s not you.”
“I deserve –”
“You deserve what you’ve got, Mike.” George shrugged his shoulders. “Guy, let’s face it. You’re not exactly camera ready.”
Mr. Martin touched his hair, then snapped his hand down to his side. “I was born to tell the news. I was born for this.”
“And I was born to make a profit,” George replied. “You, man, you’re not going to earn me money. You’re the backstage guy. I’m sorry, it’s just not going to happen.” Except George didn’t sound sorry at all.
Mike couldn’t reply to that. He clenched and released his fists, stepped forward and back again, but didn’t say a word. No rebuttal this time.
“Remember, the Bake-Off is this weekend. They moved it to Sunday. Be prepared to cover it with Lottie. In fact, you’d better give her a call, so you two can work on angles and practice,” George said.
Mike Martin ground his teeth and
didn’t answer.
“Do you hear me, Mike? I will fire you if you don’t comply. Tina gave me trouble for a long time. I learned my lesson from her. I won’t put up with attitude from you,” the boss said. He checked his cuffs, then cleared his throat.
“I hear you,” Mike hissed. “I hear you loud and clear.”
“Good. Now, if those are all your complaints for the morning, I’ve got a meeting to get to,” he said. He turned on his heel and marched into the office building.
Mike stared at the doors. He flexed his muscles, rolled his head around, then hurried off down the road.
“Wow,” Amy said, behind Heather. “Just wow.”
She couldn’t have put it better herself. George’s professional exterior had dissolved for a moment and provided an interesting glimpse of what was underneath that veneer.
And it sure wasn’t pretty.
“C’mon, Ames, let’s get back to the bakery,” Heather said. “I get the feeling that talking to George isn’t going to tell us anything new.”
They exited the alley and walked back the way they’d come. Amy hummed under her breath. “Wait a sec,” she said, “if Lottie’s been arrested, that means the police have closed the case. Right?”
“That’s correct,” Heather said and ignored the bitter taste at the back of her mouth.
“Then you’re not supposed to be investigating this,” Amy said.
“Yeah.”
A smile split Amy’s face. A grin to rival doggy Dave’s happiest donut-eating expression.
“What are you grinning about?” Heather asked.
“Oh nothing, nothing.” Amy clapped once. “It’s just like old times. That’s all.”
Chapter 14
Lilly mixed the batter with a massive wooden spoon. The chocolatey goodness swished around and coated the sides of the glass bowl.
Dave sat in the doorway and Cupcake paced up and down in front of him. Her fluffy white tail tickled his nose, and he sneezed but didn’t growl or bark. Somehow, the two had become friends after a few weeks.
The kitten halted and meowed at Lilly.
“I know, I know,” she said. “But it’s chocolate. I can’t give you guys chocolate. Not good for your livers.” The girl winked at the kitten.
Dave snuffled at that tidbit of information.
“She’s right, you know,” Amy said, and gestured with a ganache coated whisk. “This is strictly human food.”
“And don’t you forget,” Heather said and took the first batch of donuts out of the oven. Six was never enough for the three of them, especially on movie night.
Besides, Ryan would be home soon, and he’d devour at least three in one sitting.
Heather took off her oven mitts and flopped them onto the counter. “Lils, you can put the next batch in the oven, then you can go set up our movie room.”
“Awesome,” Lilly said and licked the end of the spoon.
“Hey! Save some for the rest of us.” Amy said, then grabbed a teaspoon and swiped a bit of ganache out of her bowl.
“Look who’s talking,” Lilly replied, and stuck out a chocolatey tongue.
Cupcake leaped onto the counter and dived toward the bowl of donut batter. Apparently, the kitten couldn’t contain herself a second longer.
“Stop!” Heather yelped. Dave barked and skittered along the tiles in the kitchen.
Lilly dropped the spoon, and it splattered chocolate all down the front of her pink PJs. She grabbed Cupcake and lifted her off the counter. The kitten meowed a complaint but didn’t scratch.
Amy burst out laughing. Dave turned in a circle and howled at the ceiling, then hopped up and down on the spot.
“Oh my gosh,” Heather said. “That was close.”
“No, Cupcake. Naughty kitty,” Lilly said, and lectured with a chocolate coated finger. “If you can’t learn to behave then you’re not allowed to watch me make donuts.”
Dave barked again at the mention of his favorite treat.
“I think,” Heather said, “that it’s time for the animals to head to the living room, Lils.”
“Yeah,” the girl agreed, then fiddle with the front of her PJ top. “And for me to change.”
“I put your other pair of PJs in your top drawer,” Heather said.
“Thanks, mom,” Lilly replied, then hurried out of the kitchen and into the hall. Dave trotted after her, and Cupcake meowed a complaint from her arms. “Shush you.”
Amy grasped the teaspoon and sighed. “It’s so sweet when she calls you that,” she said.
Heather’s heart always skipped a beat at the ‘m’ word. She grasped Lilly’s bowl, then poured the batter into the six greased donut shaped slots in the tray.
“Are you all right?” Amy asked. “I mean, I know everything here is awesome, but are you okay after what’s happened this week.”
“Sure,” Heather said. “I mean there’s a baking competition in two days, but the murderer isn’t behind bars. I couldn’t be better.”
Amy rolled her eyes. “Sarcasm so doesn’t suit you.”
“Sorry. I just can’t get George’s attitude change off my mind. I mean, I didn’t see that coming. He seemed really together when we were there the first time.”
“It was weird,” Amy said.
Heather turned and slid the donut tray into the oven. She shut the door, then adjusted the temperature to just the right spot.
“George doesn’t want any trouble, and he doesn’t want to lose any more money, right?” Heather said. “What if Tina had become too much of a risk. She dragged him down, and he decided to get rid of her.”
“It makes sense,” Amy said. “And that threat he made was chilling.”
Heather tapped her bottom lip and stared at the donuts, baking in her oven. “The only problem is we didn’t find his fingerprints in the hotel room. Unless they were the ones Ryan couldn’t identify.”
“And it’s not like you can ask him to interrogate the guy, now that the case is closed,” Amy said.
“Exactly. But you know who’s fingerprints were at the scene? Mike’s. I guess he’s my next lead. And if it’s not him, he might provide us with some kind of information which could lead us to the murderer.” Heather nodded and turned to Amy. “What do you think?”
“I think that sounds like a plan,” Amy replied, and gestured with a ganache-coated teaspoon.
“Hey!” Heather said. “How much of that stuff have you eaten?”
“Relax, there’s enough to coat at least one batch of donuts,” Amy said, and licked her lips. “We can always make some more.”
“You’re worse than Cupcake,” Heather replied.
“The height of insults. I don’t mind being compared to an adorable, blue-eyed kitten, Heather. You should know that by now.” Amy stuck out her tongue and swept up the bowl into her arms. “Just try to take it away from me and see what happens.”
Heather chuckled, but she couldn’t force the mirth down into her belly. She had to figure this out before it was too late.
George and Mike’s disagreement had set her nerves on edge, and it wasn’t as if she could speak to Ryan about it, now. He’d tell her to back off the case and focus on the baking competition instead.
“So, how are we going to find this Mike, guy?” Amy asked, and put the bowl down. She walked to the sink and plonked her spoon into it. “Sharon Janis’ gossip corner?”
“Not this time. Mike is staying at the same hotel as Tina did.”
“Ominous,” Amy said and twiddled her fingers. “But that makes it easy for us, am I right.”
“Indeed,” Heather replied. Nothing about this case seemed easy, though.
Lilly popped her head through the doorway. “Are you ready?”
“Just a few more minutes till they’re done,” Heather said, and pointed to the oven. “You go ahead and relax, Lils. We’ll be there soon.”
Amy lifted the ganache teaspoon again.
“Actually, take Amy with you. She’s going to eat all the glaze,
and we’ll be stuck with naked donuts tonight.”
Chapter 15
Heather parked her car across the road from the Lone Star Hotel and stared at the sign above the door. The sheriff’s star sparkled by the light of dawn. Amber tiptoed across the horizon, followed by a glimmer of yellow. The colors of the sunrise reflected in Amy’s eyes.
“I think,” she said, “we’re here a little early to interview the guy.”
“Who said anything about interviewing him?” Heather asked. She scooched down in her seat and peered out over the lip of her door. “I want to see where he goes.”
“What?” Amy groaned and rubbed her temples. “Are you serious? I didn’t sign up for a stake-out, Heather.”
“You know, for a willing assistant and sidekick, you complain an awful lot.”
“I resent the term sidekick,” Amy replied.
Heather quieted and folded her arms. Mike Martin would have to leave the hotel sometime, and when he did, they’d follow him and find out what he was up to.
“Ugh, I’d so rather be baking donuts, right now,” Amy said.
“You mean eating ganache,” Heather replied.
Amy swatted her on the arm. “Who spoiled your frosting? You’ve been a bit cranky this morning.”
Heather sighed and glanced at her bestie. “I’m sorry, Ames, I just want to figure this out before it’s too late. I can’t shake this off feeling. I can’t let it lie.” Heather stared out of the window again, then jolted.
Mike Martin stood in front of the Lone Star Hotel. He lifted a cigarette to his lips, took a deep drag, then looked up and down the road. He set off in the opposite direction.
“Oh my gosh,” Amy said. “Are we going to follow him by car?”
Heather started the engine by way of answer. Mike reached the corner and turned left.
They drove to the end of the street, and Heather glanced down the road. She kept her foot on the brake, even though her heart pounded at a pace to match Dave’s tail wags.
Mike Martin crossed to the other side of the street and headed toward a cluster of peaks nearby. No, not peaks, a field of tents. The field of tents which’d been setup for the bake-off on Sunday.
Double Chocolate Pistachio Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 27 Page 5
