Fatally Frosted

by Jessica Beck

“I’m not sure,” Emma said.

  “New developments?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Paul called. He wants to talk.”

  “Go,” I said. “And good luck.”

  “Thanks,” she said as she raced out the door.

  “What was that all about?” Grace asked after we were alone.

  “Emma’s having trouble with her new boyfriend.”

  Grace laughed. “There must be a lot of that going around.”

  I looked at her. “Why do you say that?”

  I had my back to her, collecting the last of the donuts from the display trays.

  “Maybe you should turn around,” Grace said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Unless I’m mistaken, someone’s walking up the sidewalk with some flowers for you.”

  It was Jake.

  So he’d decided to make a grand gesture after all.

  Grace slipped off the stool. “I’ll catch up with you later. Call me when you’re through here.”

  “You don’t have to leave,” I said as Jake neared the door.

  “I won’t go far. Come by the Boxcar after he leaves and we’ll have lunch. That way we can eat as we plan what we’re going to do next.”

  “Sounds good. See you soon.”

  As Jake opened the door, Grace slipped out. She said a quick hello, then left us. “She didn’t have to leave,” Jake said. “I can only stay a minute.”

  “She didn’t go far. How’s your niece?”

  “She’s much better. It’s almost like she was never sick, you know? I get the sniffles and I’m down for a week. I just don’t get it.”

  I said, “She’s young, and we’re not.” He wasn’t going to say anything, so I looked at the roses in his hands. “Are those for me, or are you just taking them out for a walk?”

  He started to redden. “Sorry. I’ve warned you enough times that I’m not very good at this. Of course they’re for you.”

  I gladly took them. They were lovely, crimson buds that held the promise of bloom tightly within their clinched petals. “They’re exquisite.” I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I was smiling at him, but it quickly vanished when I looked out the window.

  Jake picked up on it in an instant. “Was it something I said?”

  “No, I thought I just saw a ghost.” It was true, too. Max had been walking toward the donut shop, but when he’d spotted me with Jake—and the roses in my hands—he’d turned white and rushed away. By the time Jake turned around to look, Max was gone.

  But my ex-husband managed to kill my good mood.

  “Can we talk again tonight?” Jake asked.

  “Over dinner?”

  “I’d honestly love to, but I can’t,” he said. “I’ve already missed too much work. I need to catch up on what’s been going on.”

  “You know, if you really want to get back in my good graces, there is one thing you could do.”

  “Forget it,” Jake said, laughing. “I’m not sharing police business with you.”

  I smiled at him. “Hey, it was worth a shot.”

  He leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “Thanks. I’ve really missed you lately.”

  “Me, too,” I said.

  After he was gone, I took out a large vase from the back and filled it full of water. The roses looked lovely on the counter, but before I went home, I’d collect them and take them with me.

  If for nothing else, it would be fun seeing the look on my mother’s face.

  I found Grace sitting at a booth in the Boxcar.

  She waved me over to her and said, “Hurry up. I look like a pig hogging this booth all to myself.”

  “I came as fast as I could,” I said. I pretended to study the menu as I said, “Let’s see. What looks good today? I feel like something different.”

  Grace knocked the menu out of my hands. “I don’t think so. What just happened? I want details.”

  “You mean with Jake?”

  She said, “You’re not funny, you know that, don’t you?”

  I laughed, something I hadn’t done much of lately. “We’re both going to try harder,” I admitted.

  “At least he’s making some effort.”

  “That’s true.” My stomach grumbled. “I’m starving, but don’t let me forget, I’ve got four dozen donuts back at the shop I need to get rid of.”

  “What are you going to do with them?” she asked.

  “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

  Trish came over and smiled. “Good afternoon. Are you two ladies ready to order?”

  After we told her what we wanted, Trish said, “By the way, those roses were beautiful, or so I heard.”

  “How on earth did you hear that? Grace, have you been spreading rumors and lies about me again?”

  She nodded. “Of course I have, but I didn’t say anything to her about the roses. I swear.”

  Trish laughed. “Sarah from the flower shop came in for a quick bite, and she told me how long it took your policeman to pick out the right bouquet for you.”

  Grace said, “It’s tough to go wrong with roses.”

  Trish shrugged as she said, “I don’t know, I like daisies myself. They’re so happy.”

  I said, “He really spent some time thinking about it?”

  Trish nodded. “Sarah said it took him half an hour.”

  After she was gone to place our orders, I looked at Grace and saw her grinning at me. “What’s that about?”

  “You’re happy about this, aren’t you?”

  I laughed. “Getting flowers is better than being called names,” I said. “Who wouldn’t be happy getting them?”

  “I can’t remember the last time a man brought me flowers,” she said wistfully.

  “You can have half of mine,” I said, joking.

  Evidently she took me seriously. She thought about it a few moments, then said, “Thanks, but it just wouldn’t be the same, would it?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I could send you flowers myself, if you’d just like to get some.”

  “Again, thanks, but no.” She played with her fork, spinning it lazily on the table, as she asked, “So, what’s next on our agenda?”

  I said, “Let’s enjoy our meal, and then we’ll talk about the case.”

  “Good enough,” she said. “Here it comes right now.”

  We ate, chatting about nothing in particular, and after we finished, I felt like I was ready to take on the world again.

  And that included finding Peg Masterson’s murderer.

  As I got out the money to pay for our meal, I said, “If you’re up for it, I’ve got an idea of what we can do next.”

  “I’m ready,” she said.

  “Don’t you even want to know what I have in mind?”

  Grace shook her head. “If you like the plan, that’s good enough for me.”

  “Okay, here’s what I had in mind. I want to take another run at Marge, and I need your help,” I said. “I think between the two of us, we can break her down and find out the truth about what happened between her and Peg.”

  Grace looked up from her plate and asked, “Suzanne, do you honestly believe that Marge could have had anything to do with killing her? We’ve both known her forever; she’s not a murderer.”

  “I realize it’s hard to think of her that way, but honestly, how do we know that for sure?” I asked. “What’s a murderer look like? Maybe Marge thought she had a good reason to want Peg dead.”

  Grace took another sip of her iced tea. “I just can’t believe it.”

  “Do you like Burt better as a suspect? We’ve known him our whole lives, too. How about Peg’s niece, Heather? Do you think she looks like a killer? Honestly, I can’t see anybody killing Peg, but the woman didn’t poison herself, did she? I know this is a hard concept to believe, but a killer’s out there somewhere in April Springs, and I need to find whoever did it. There are too man
y folks who are going to believe that donut left my shop already poisoned, and I can’t have that.”

  “I get it, believe me, I do,” she said. “You’re right. I guess I feel a little squeamish digging around in other people’s lives like this.”

  “We’ve done it before,” I said.

  “I know, but it didn’t seem as real to me, for some reason.”

  I shrugged. “That’s because this is the first time we’ve done it where we know the suspects so well. If you want to back out, I understand completely.”

  Grace frowned as she pushed her fork around on her empty plate. “No, I said I’d help you, and I meant it. Let’s go tackle Marge and see if we can break her.”

  “Hang on a second,” I said as I put my hand on hers. “I’m not trying to ruin anybody’s life. I’m just looking for the truth.”

  “And you honestly don’t believe we’re going to do some harm when we’re looking for it?”

  I stood. “I guess there’s bound to be collateral damage, isn’t there?”

  “Funny, the way you put it sounds a lot nicer than ruining innocent lives.”

  We headed to Marge’s in silence, each left to our own thoughts. As Grace drove, I looked out the window, studying our small town, wondering how a community that looked so peaceful and idyllic could harbor so many secrets. As a child, I’d felt safe growing up in April Springs, leading a gentle existence filled with fireflies and long, summer days, but as I’d grown older, I’d come to realize that there were secrets everywhere, jealousies, anger, and pain lying just below the surface. And sometimes they managed to work their way to the surface, contaminating whatever they touched. I still loved my town, and its collection of odd birds, but that didn’t mean I was blind to its flaws.

  “What do you two want?” Marge was obviously pretty unhappy to see me, and I wasn’t sure I could blame her. We hadn’t exactly left things on good terms the last time we’d spoken.

  She wouldn’t even open the door when she saw it was me, staying behind the latched screen door that separated us instead. It wasn’t a solid barrier by any stretch of the imagination, but the symbolism of the closed door wasn’t lost on me.

  “We just want to chat,” I said.

  “Like last time? I think not.”

  “I’m sorry if I was rude before,” I said. “I’ll be on my best behavior this time. I promise.”

  Grace added, “If she gets out of line, I’ll rein her back in.” She had her charm turned up to its highest level, but it was clear Marge wasn’t buying it.

  I repeated my request, “May we come in?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “Are you here alone?” I asked.

  “Burt is at the hardware store, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said. “He told me not to speak with you again without him present.”

  “I said I was sorry.”

  “I’m not talking about it,” she said adamantly.

  “Then at least you can listen. We know what Peg was up to with the finances for her charities, and we found out that was the real reason you two fought. It had nothing to do with your fathers.”

  Marge’s eyes narrowed. “Who have you been talking to?”

  “I keep my sources confidential,” I said. “That way, you can be sure that whatever you tell me won’t get spread around town either.”

  Marge didn’t look pleased with us at all. “There’s no need to tell me; it had to be Janice Deal. Whatever she told you, she’s lying.”

  I was stumped as to how to handle that when Grace said, “Don’t worry, I’m sure the audits from the past ten years will clear everything up.”

  “What audits?” Marge asked, the same question echoing in my own mind.

  “Those fundraisers were set up to generate money for good causes. The police have been informed of Janice’s suspicions, so full audits are naturally the first thing they’re going to do. Any treasurers of committees Peg chaired in the past will be held accountable for their actions.”

  That hit the mark dead on as it got Marge flustered. Her hands were shaking as she said, “I wrote the checks she told me to. That was my job.”

  “Let me guess,” I said. “A lot of them were made out to P.E.G., weren’t they?”

  “She told me it was a business she’d created to get our supplies and materials at cost,” Marge explained.

  “And you weren’t suspicious?” I asked, “not even when you found out the company moniker matched Peg’s first name? Come on, Marge, you’re smarter than that. Did she give you a cut of what she was skimming? What happened? Did you want a bigger share? Is that what you two were really fighting about?”

  “Suzanne Hart, you shut your mouth!” she yelled at me.

  “Is that what happened, Marge? Tell me now, or tell the police later. I noticed that as soon as you got your inheritance, you dropped Peg like a hot cookie sheet. What’s the matter, didn’t you need the money anymore?”

  “I didn’t take a dime from her, and I didn’t do anything wrong,” she insisted, her voice starting to break with the intensity of her emotions.

  “Then why did you quit being Peg’s vice chairman?”

  “Because I knew she was doing something she shouldn’t have been doing,” Marge said, her words tumbling out in a rush.

  Grace asked, “If that’s true, why didn’t you tell anybody?”

  “Who was I going to tell? Peg ran everything in April Springs, and if I made waves for her, she’d kill my reputation around town. I confronted her with my suspicions, and she said if I told anyone what I’d uncovered, she’d place the blame squarely on me. After all, it was my signature on all of those checks. She never signed one, just stamped it FOR DEPOSIT ONLY, then put it into another account. Peg claimed she had two sets of records, one that told the story she wanted the world to see, and another one laying all the blame on me.”

  It appeared that Peg lied about her finances in more places than the fake ledger she’d been filling out since her divorce. Knowing what she’d written in the log I’d found, it didn’t surprise me that there were at least two sets of books for every charity she ran.

  “If that’s true,” I asked, “then why on earth did you agree to have your kitchen featured on the tour?”

  “I didn’t want to! She blackmailed me into doing it,” Marge said, the tears starting to track down her cheeks. “I had no choice.”

  I was about to press her further when Burt pulled up in his truck. As he rushed toward us, he asked, “What’s going on here?”

  “We’re just talking,” I said.

  One look at Marge was all he needed. “You’d both better leave.”

  Grace and I stood our ground.

  I gestured to Marge and said, “Not unless she tells us to go.”

  Marge looked from us to Burt, and then back again. “You’d better leave,” she said softly.

  Burt looked at us triumphantly.

  I wasn’t about to let him have his moment of victory. “That’s fine, we were finished here anyway. We got all we needed. Let’s go, Grace.”

  We were nearly back at her car when Burt approached us. There was a look of anger on his face that I’d never seen before. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Make up your mind,” I said as I opened Grace’s car door. “First you want us to leave, and now you’re ordering us to stay.”

  “What did she tell you?” he asked, his voice barely more than a low growl.

  “Ask her yourself,” I said as Grace started the car.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Burt said.

  “How are you going to stop us? Are you going to throw yourself in front of the car? Don’t tempt us, Burt.”

  He shook his head. “Suzanne, what’s gotten into you? This doesn’t concern you, and yet you keep butting in where you don’t belong.”

  I put a hand on Grace’s arm. “Hang on a second.” Then I turned to Burt and said, “It concerned me the second someone poisoned one of my donuts. That makes it my
business. And, you know what? There’s probably no one in town with more access to rat poison than a man who runs a hardware store.” As I stared at him, I said without thinking, “I just realized that your hair color is close to matching the person I saw at the crime scene right before Peg was murdered.” It was true; it could have easily been Burt I’d seen hiding near the courtyard of Marge’s home.

  His eyes flared as I said it. “You’re out of line. Leave us alone.”

  “You should worry about me coming after you next, not Marge.”

  “Is that a threat, Suzanne?”

  “No, sir. It’s more like a promise.”

  I turned to Grace and said, “We’re finished here. Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 12

  As Grace drove off, I looked back to see what Burt was doing. He’d made no move to rejoin Marge on the front porch. Instead, he stood there in the driveway, watching us until we disappeared from sight.

  Grace said, “If I were you, I’d find another place to shop for my hardware from now on.”

  I shrugged. “I’d already planned on doing that.” I let out a lungful of air, then added, “That was certainly interesting, wasn’t it?”

  “I wonder if Marge realizes yet that she just gave us a great motive for her committing the murder.”

  “If she doesn’t know by now, Burt will understand the ramifications as soon as she relays our conversation with her, you can believe that. You want to know something that’s funny?”

  Grace said, “Sure, I could always use a good laugh.”

  “Not funny that way, funny odd,” I said. “Neither one of them ever mentioned calling the police, no matter how belligerent we got with them.”

  “You were belligerent. I was sweet,” Grace said.

  “Whatever. Don’t you find that strange?”

  “No, Marge admitted she had something to hide when she said Peg had threatened her.”

  “That’s the thing with secrets. They always have a way of coming up to the surface if you give them enough time.”

  Grace asked, “So, who should we talk to now? I wonder if Father Pete’s around. We can take a swing at him, while we’re going after people in April Springs.”

  “Believe me, if I thought he had something to do with Peg Masterson’s death, I wouldn’t hesitate.”