Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 1
"I know it's cliché," Mona said, and brushed the underside of the pale pink petal with her forefinger, "but I adore roses. There's something so classical about it. It really speaks to me. A traditional wedding setting."
Heather inhaled the perfume in the florist and smiled at the bride-to-be over a bucket of daisies, their sunny faces turned to the ceiling. "I get it," she said. "So you want a traditional wedding."
They'd taken the Monday afternoon off to help Mona choose her flowers. She'd asked Ames and Heather to be co-maids of honor that very morning. Amy wandered down the opposite aisle, pausing to sniff flowers, a blush creeping up her cheeks. This wedding stuff brought out a different side in Heather's bestie. The romance was infectious.
"I'd love a traditional wedding. I just haven't decided on the color scheme yet," Mona said.
"What did Col say? Does he like any color in particular?"
Mona snorted. "Col has officially handed me the reins, let's put it that way. He wants me to be happy, but if he had his way everything would be green and tea related."
"That sounds like Col," Amy called out.
"Everything all right, dearies?" The owner of the store hurried out of the beaded doorway which led to an office. "Do need any help picking them out?" The elderly woman had introduced herself as Catherine Willard when they'd entered the store.
She shuffled over to Heather and Mona, then leaned in to sniff the roses. "Ah, this is my favorite flower. Classical," she said, her bright green eyes sparkling.
"That's what I said." Mona grinned.
"What's the occasion, dear?" Catherine asked, and rearranged a few of the rose stems - luckily their thorns had been removed.
"I'm getting married!"
Heather detached herself from the conversation and made her way to the Arum Lilies gathered in the far corner of the store. Amy stood in front of them, a small smile on her lips.
"Imagining your wedding?" Heather asked. "Jamie and Amy sitting in a tree."
"Stop." Amy swatted her arm. "I’m remembering yours actually. We had such an amazing time in France but it feels like another life. I was still with Kent and Lilly wasn't in the picture. It's strange to think back on those times."
"I wouldn’t change a thing," Heather said.
"You wouldn't?"
"Not a thing. Everything we've been through has taught us something about ourselves and each other. Don't you think?"
"Sheesh, that's a little heavy for a Monday afternoon," Amy said. "I think I'll need a donut to make up for that."
"Ah, you're in luck," Heather replied. She'd stashed a box in the back of the car, just in case they needed a snack during the flower selection. "Be right back." She hurried back up the long aisle of weeping stems and upturned faces, then out into the warm afternoon. She unlocked the Chevrolet, opened the back door, then grabbed the Donut Delights box off the back seat.
Luckily, the car hadn't become a sauna just yet. She bumped the door shut with her hip, then frowned. And stopped.
Something felt off. She was transported back to Key West and the sensation she'd had just before they'd met their supposed stalker, Roadkill Rodney.
"You're losing your touch," she whispered and set off for the front of Fancy Floaty Florist again. But that feeling, that foreboding sense of a hot gaze on the back of her neck doubled. She paused and glanced over her shoulder.
A man shrank back from the fence opposite the road, retreating into the Hillside Park and the cover of the trees. His blond hair caught the afternoon light, but he showed her his back, hid his face.
Heather started forward, opened her mouth to call out to him, then faltered. What did it matter if some dude had stood beside the Park's fence and given her the beady eye? She wasn't exactly popular after all those articles in the Hillside Reporter, retraction aside. For all she knew, he could've been enjoying the afternoon, not spying on her.
"You're getting as paranoid as Amy," she said.
"That was uncalled for," Ames spoke from the half-open door of the florist's. "Say are you going to bring in those donuts or what?"
"Coming, coming. Keep your hair on." She bustled into the perfumed interior and plonked the box on the counter.
"What's this?" Catherine asked, and patted her tight bun of gray hair. "A treat?"
"We snack wherever we go. It's a habit," Amy said and lifted the lid on the box.
"At this point, I think it's a lifestyle."
Catherine peeked at the donuts nestled inside, their fat, glistening sides touching each other. "Oh my goodness, I've never seen anything like these before. They're positively gourmet."
"That's our M.O." Amy puffed out her chest.
"Well, I'm impressed. What are they called?" Catherine asked.
Mona hurried to the front counter and brought a long-stemmed rose with her. She caressed its smooth stem - the thorns had been removed - and went wide-eyed at the sight of the donuts.
"Cherry Dream Donuts," Heather announced. She'd already given Eva the lowdown that morning. "A vanilla donut filled with glace cherries for extra crunch, baked in the oven until golden brown, then triple dipped in a candied cherry glaze. They're sinfully sweet." She left out the dash of lemon she'd added to the glaze to elevate the flavor.
"They look perfect," Mona said.
"Thanks." Amy and Heather replied in unison. They were two sides of a coin. Amy a little crass, definitely sarcastic and impulsive, while Heather was more methodical and she doubted herself a lot.
"No, I really mean it. I think this might be the perfect donut for my wedding. It would suit the red roses. Oh, wait, unless I get pink roses. I'm torn. Pink or red?" Mona's eyebrows knit together in the center of her forehead.
Amy nudged the open box towa
rd her. "I know how you can decide. Think it over. The donuts will tell you the way."
"They're treats not crystal balls," Heather replied.
"Eh, you know what I mean."
Mona and Catherine both dug in and Heather and Ames joined them. The sweet glaze dissolved into a dream on their tongues. The women sighed and chewed in silence, but Heather couldn't help looking at the plate glass windows at the front of the store and the wrought iron fence beyond it.
Chapter 2
Spring had come and the weather had warmed a little. They weren't in full blown dry heat territory yet, but the number of orders for milkshakes large and small, and in every flavor imaginable had already picked up.
Heather slurped on the end of her iced coffee shake - Amy's suggestion and a new addition to the Donut Delights repertoire - and relished the flavor. "This is pretty darn refreshing if I do say so myself."
"Mmm!" Eva agreed and drank some of her shake. Leila perched on the edge of her seat beside her. She was still in the process of transitioning from Hillside Manor, but they'd booked her out of the place for the day so she could enjoy a couple Cherry Dreams.
"So," Amy said. It was the tone she used when she determined it was time for a good Hillside originals gossip session. "What do we think of this Lyle Clarke fella?"
Heather grunted. She didn't think much of him, that was for sure. She'd read all the articles about him back in New York out of sick fascination. Allegedly, he'd done terrible things and gotten away with every single one of them. No one, not the NYPD or the FBI, had been able to pin any of the crimes on him.
He was supposedly a criminal mastermind. Or he wasn't. He was just a regular guy who helped other people build stuff. Except Heather knew better. And if Kate was buddies with the guys there'd be no end to the trouble.
Amy clicked her fingers under Heather's nose. "Whoops, we lost her for a second there."
"Sorry," she said. "I was in another world. Just the mention of that guy's name sets me off."
"Why?" Leila asked, and tucked into her donut. She squeezed her eyes closed. "Goodness me, that's delicious."
"What did I tell you, dear? They always taste better directly from the store," Eva said and patted her friend on the arm.
It warmed Heather's heart to see the two of them together.
"Why does he set you off?" Amy asked.
"Because he's a criminal and he's one of those tricky ones," Heather said and finished the last of her shake.
"Tricky how?"
"Tricky because he's definitely committed crimes but no one can take him down. The police have tried. The FBI have tried."
"The FBI!" Amy's eyes shot open as wide as they could go. "You're kidding."
"I never kid when it comes to criminals," Heather said. "That's your territory, Ames. The guy is - ugh, I shouldn't talk about someone behind their back but he's low. He's low and I worry for the future of Hillside if he's here."
Eva flicked through her copy of the Hillside Reporter. "I'm sure there was an article about this Lyle Clarke man in here. Give me a second to find it."
Heather couldn't summon up any emotion apart from anxiety in response to that. Gosh, the last thing this town needed was a crime boss hovering around in the background. Hillside's rapid expansion had already brought in a wealth of unsavory characters. Sure, plenty of star citizens had come in - Col and Mona included - but where there was light there was dark.
And Hillside's dark side worried Heather.
"Here it is," Eva said. She flattened the center pages of the paper. "Mr. Lyle Clarke, newcomer to Hillside's industrial sector, has sworn to create countless jobs for the unemployed in our town. And thus far, he's kept his promises. His renovation of the Hillside Public Library has employed at least fifty locals. When asked for comment, Mr. Clarke said he planned on keeping those fifty in his employ and expanding exponentially."
"Oh gosh," Heather said. He'd already won over the press. But then, Heather had firsthand experience with how fickle they could be. "Sounds like he's got fingers in every pie."
Eva cleared her throat and continued, "Mr. Clarke plans on developing a new apartment complex for the newcomers to Hillside, thus eliminating the current housing crisis in the town."
"Don't suppose it mentions how he's profiting from all of this," Amy said.
Eva chuckled. "Of course not, dear. That would defeat the purpose of their article. Clearly, someone down at the Reporter's offices is friends with this Clarke fellow."
"Fingers in every pie," Heather repeated. "Anyway, let's not sully our Tuesday morning any further. How's the move going, Leila?"
"I'll be ready by the end of the week," the elderly woman replied.
"That's fantastic," Heather said. "Just in time for a housewarming party."
"I love that idea." Eva folded the newspaper and placed it on the edge of the table, nudging the napkin dispenser aside. "We could get donuts."
"Because we never do that," Amy said and gestured with a Cherry Dream.
Heather's phone buzzed in the front pouch of her Donut Delights apron and she flinched. She produced the cell and eyed Ryan's name flashing on the screen.
"Is it?" Amy asked.
Heather waved the question away and swiped her thumb across the screen. "Shepherd," she answered.
"I've got a case for you and Amy," he said. "And I've got a feeling you're going to be personally invested."
"What is it?" Heather asked. Personally invested was never a good thing when it came to murder.
"I need you down here at the, uh," he cut off and muttered something. "Sorry, had to read the name again, at the Fancy Floaty Florist. There's been an incident."
"Oh no," she said. "Who?"
Ryan huffed a sigh which crackled in Heather's ear. "The owner of the store. Woman by the name of Catherine Willard."
Heather gasped. It wasn't her usual reaction to a case after having solved at least forty in her short career, but this did hit close to home. Poor Catherine. She'd seemed like a wonderful person. And Mona would be crushed.
"Are you there now?" She asked.
"Meet me in fifteen?"
"We're on our way." Heather hung up without saying goodbye. That stranger she'd seen outside the florist's drifted from her memories and a chill traveled down her spine. She'd never ignore her instincts again.
Chapter 3
Their second visit to the Fancy Floaty Florist didn't feel anything like the first. The flowers drooped in their vases and buckets, almost as if they knew their keeper had left. The air-conditioning unit hummed in the corner of the roof, bathing them in waves of chilled air.
Amy shuddered. "The body's been removed?" She asked.
"Of course." Ryan circled a space on the floor in front of the main counter, still wearing his gloves. "Forensics came through and the coroner took the body out a half hour ago. We'll have the autopsy report soon, but the cause of death was pretty obvious."
"What was it?" Heather asked and narrowed her eyes at the flowers. Why were they wilted? Catherine would've watered them daily.
'"Asphyxiation. She had prominent bruises around her throat," Ryan said. "Finger marks."
"She was strangled," Amy said and turned the same shade as uncolored fondant. White, in other words - no mean feat for Ames, since she'd always tanned easy, even in the winter months. "Right in her store?"
"Do we have an approximate time of death?" Heather asked, switching into business mode. Ames hadn't been on as many cases, not officially, and she hadn't dealt with the variety of victims and murderers Heather had. She hadn't desensitized to the violent aspect.
She would soon, though. Already, Amy took less and less time to come to terms with the details of each case.
Ryan flipped through his notepad, using the end of his unclicked ballpoint to lift the pages. "Best estimation is some time during the night. We can't narrow it down without the full autopsy report. That's Kyle's domain."
"Kyle?" Amy asked.
"Medical exam
iner," Heather replied. "Do we know when Catherine watered the plants each day? I get the feeling that the murder must've happened before she had the chance. It might give us a better indication of the time."
"That's a good catch, but it doesn't help us much. We have no idea when she would've watered them. Catherine didn't have any assistants in the store. And she didn't have any close family. Or friends for that matter. None that are in Hillside, anyway."
"She's one of the newbies," Amy said.
"That's right. New to Hillside. She'd just started paying off the bank for the loan she took to buy this place and start the business." Ryan paced around the counter and examined the bits and bobs on the shelves behind it. Plant food, vases, ribbons, and cars.
"Where does she come from?"
"Louisiana," he said.
"Weird. I didn't pick up on that yesterday. She sounded like a Texan to me," Heather said.
"You spoke with her?" Ryan scribbled on his notepad. "When?"
"Yesterday afternoon," Heather said. "And I caught a glimpse of a guy hanging around out in the park. I thought he was watching me when I got some donuts out of the car, but then I dismissed it as paranoia."
Ryan made a note of that too. "A man. Well, the marks on Catherine's throat were pretty large. I'd say they were consistent with a man's hands but that's just conjecture. There was something else, though. Something Kyle mentioned to me before he blazed out of here with the gurney."
"What?"
Amy strolled around the spot on the floor, frowning at the base of the counter.
"Powder. He suggested it might be powder from the inside of latex gloves," Ryan said. "Which would mean our murderer was prepared. And that brings us to the next part of the very strange puzzle. The murderer was also a burglar. They took all the money in the register and what looked to be a ring off her finger. There's a broken window at the back which is the entry point."
Heather puzzle over that. She leaned against the table which held a row of buckets and some of the hardier flowers - ones that hadn't drooped after one missed watering. "That's... that's implausible."
"Walk me through why" Ryan said.
Cherry Dream Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy - Book 43 (Donut Hole Cozy Mystery) Page 1
