Passion Fruit Punch Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 34

by Susan Gillard

  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.

  Copyright 2017 by Guardian Publishing Group - All rights reserved.

  All rights Reserved. No part of this publication or the information in it may be quoted from or reproduced in any form by means such as printing, scanning, photocopying or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.

  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

  “Good morning,” Heather sang, and held the door open for Amy, behind her.

  The interior of Col Owen’s tea shop had a peaceful atmosphere, to match the iced green teas and hot cups he served both in the front of the store and in the sit-down section.

  “Hello there,” Col replied. “Come to check everything is in order?”

  Amy buried her neck in the puffy confines of her blue coat and folded her arms across her chest. “This would be so much easier if it wasn’t so darn cold.”

  “Cold?” Col frowned and glanced down at his cut off sleeves and jean shorts. “That’s the last thing I’d call it.” As a native New Yorker, Col didn’t feel the Hillside winter was actually a winter.

  He insisted on prancing around in his summer clothes.

  “Some of us have thermal cell receptor thingies,” Amy said.

  Heather raised an eyebrow at her bestie, and let the door swing shut. “Thermal cell receptor thingies?”

  “It’s not my best work, but I stand by it,” Amy replied.

  Col snorted a laugh and disappeared from sight behind his counter. He brought out the stack of coupons he’d prepared. “Here you are,” he said.

  Heather scurried forward and accepted them. Each bore the logo of the Owen Tea Shop in the corner, and the phrase ‘We’ll Tea You Soon!’

  Amy would love that.

  Heather dug in her beige tote bag and brought out her own set of Donut Delights coupons. She handed them over to her new joint venture partner.

  “So, every customer gets one of these?” Amy asked, and lifted the Tea Shop coupons from Heather. Her expression flickered between a dozen different emotions at the sight of the slogan.

  “That’s right,” Col replied. “Every Donut Delights customer gets a free tea at the Owen Tea Shop.”

  “And every Tea Shop customer is entitled to a free donut with us,” Heather said, proudly.

  The idea had been Eva’s. She’d never cease to amaze Heather with her wisdom.

  “This is really cool,” Ames said. She’d been the one to help cut out Heather’s Donut Delights coupons. She flick-flacked the stack of Tea Shop coupons against her palm. “I’m not big on tea, but I’m always willing to try new things.”

  “You’ve never had tea before?” Col’s jaw dropped. “You haven’t lived.”

  “I’ve had tea tea. I just haven’t had a special tea.”

  “Tea tea?” Heather asked.

  “Yeah, you know, the normal stuff.”

  “Ceylon tea,” Col said.

  Amy clicked her fingers and pointed at the young man. “Yeah that. I’ve had that. But nothing exotic.”

  “Then you’ve got to try my newest leaf,” Col said. He bent and gathered a rustic sack of tea leaves from under his counter. “This is Peach Cobbler Guayusa tea. It’s straight from the Amazon forest. Very exotic. It’s got similar effects to coffee too.”

  Amy bit her lip and sniffed. “It smells pretty strong.”

  The door clacked open behind them, and a man in a bicycle helmet and tight spandex shorts jogged into the story. “Mornin’, Col,” he said and waved a gloved hand. “How are you?”

  “Good, good. I’m just about to whip up a batch of the Peach Cobbler. You in?”

  “Oh, you bet,” the man said, and two bright, blue eyes twinkled beside his sharp, hooked nose.

  “Heather Shepherd, Amy Givens, this is my neighbor, Freddy Mars,” Col said and plopped the coupons on the counter. He busied himself with a china teapot, matching flowery cups, and a strange metal device which had to be a tea strainer.

  Heather’s mind itched at a memory. “Huh, Freddy Mars. That’s a familiar name. Do I know you from somewhere?”

  Freddy whipped off his cut-off gloves and raised a shaking hand to his forehead. He puffed out his cheeks and exhaled. “I don’t think so. Kinda hot in here, isn’t it Col?”

  “Nah, you’re just all lathered up from the ride. You want a green tea instead?”

  “Cobbler,” Freddy said, by way of confirmation.

  Amy stared at him. “You’re riding a bike out in this weather?” She snuggled her coat closer to her body.

  “Oh yeah,” Freddy said, and gulped. The skin around his lips had paled too. “Oh yeah, it’s great. Keeps the heart beating.”

  “So does warmth,” Amy muttered, and rubbed her arms.

  “Here we go,” Col said and lifted the cups in their saucers onto the countertop, one at a time. “It’s a quick brew. Try it without sugar first to see how you like it.”

  Amy picked up her cup and Freddy shuffled forward and took his too. Heather hung back. She’d had half a pot of coffee before work, already. The nerves about the J.V. had finally gotten to her.

  What if it didn’t work? What if people got their coupons and forgot to use them? It’d help if Col’s tea shop were a little closer to Donut Delights, but the walk wasn’t too bad.

  Amy sniffed her tea. “Hoo! That’s quite strong.”

  “It’s the best,” Freddy said, and wetted his lips. He lifted the cup and drank deeply from it.

  Amy didn’t drink just yet. “Think I’ll wait for it to cool a little.”

  “Tea is best when it’s hot,” Col said. The beads which hung in the doorway behind him rattled, and Mona, his girlfriend, appeared.

  “Morning,” she said and beamed at them both.

  Heather had helped solved the murder case of Mona’s husband, just the week prior.

  “Hel – Oh!” Amy yelped.

  Freddy Mars wavered toward her, then away.

  “Freddy? You okay?” Col asked.

  The tea cup dropped from Freddy’s grasp and smashed to the ground. Bits of China scattered in every direction. The saucer dropped next.

  “Freddy!” Mona darted
around the corner of the counter.

  Freddy Mars teetered. He tottered. He crumpled to the ground in front of them.

  Amy shrieked and tossed the tea aside. More shattering of plates and cups ensued. Col yelled and grasped his blond, wispy hair in both hands. Mona sobbed and dropped down beside the fallen cyclist.

  “Nobody move,” Heather said, calm as a cup of cold milk. “Nobody touch him and nobody move.” She brought out her cell phone, swiped her finger across the screen, the dialed three digits.

  911.

  Chapter 2

  “D-do you think he’ll be all right?” Amy asked, and tightened the straps of her Donut Delights apron.

  They hovered behind the counter, the donut of the week glistening beneath the lights inside it.

  “I can’t say,” Heather replied. “The medic didn’t say much, Ames. At least, he’s alive.” She’d seen worse in her short time as a consultant to the Hillside Police Department.

  Amy exhaled and brushed her fingers through her hair. “Heather, you don’t think it was the –”

  “Tea?” Heather glanced at the stack of coupons on the countertop, right beside her old-timey cash register, with its golden crank handle. “No, I don’t think Col Owen tried to poison his neighbor.”

  “Then what happened?” Amy asked, and lowered herself onto a puffy stool. “We both saw it. He drank the tea and a couple of minutes later he collapsed.”

  “He looked strange before that, though. He was shaking,” Heather said and lowered her tone to prevent her happy customers from picking up on their conversation.

  If the gossip got out that a man had collapsed in her joint venture partner’s store, she’d never hear the end of it. Questions galore from adults and children alike. Everyone in Hillside had a streak of innate curiosity.

  Heather’s was just a bit stronger.

  “Maybe it was exhaustion,” Amy suggested.

  “Maybe,” Heather replied. But she doubted that. Freddy Mars hadn’t roused no matter how much Mona screamed, or Col called his name.

  Something serious had happened, but he was alive, thankfully. They’d get a chance to ask him when he came to.

  The bell above the glass front door tinkled, and Eva Schneider shuffled into the store. She waved at them and hurried over, her new hair style bobbling on top of her head.

  “Eva!” Amy exclaimed. “You dyed your hair.”

  “Yes, dear. I’ve never tried one of those New Year, New Me fads, but this was quite fun.” Eva patted her pale blue-gray hair. “It’s a nice change from the plum, don’t you think?”

  “You look lovely,” Heather said. Eva always lifted the mood in Donut Delights.

  The room brightened when she arrived, and the spot where she sat, her favorite table, remained empty, no matter how full the store got. The residents of Hillside, and even the tourists, naturally avoided it.

  Heather hadn’t even had to put a reserved sign on the glass table top.

  “What’s the donut this week, Heather, dear? My mouth’s watering already.” Eva pressed her fingertips to the glass case and peered at the yellow glazed donuts, jostling for attention beside last week’s Neapolitan Delights.

  “It’s called the Passion Fruit Punch Donut,” Heather said.

  “Fruity!” Eva clapped her hands, and two of her rings clicked together. “Tell me more, please.”

  “For this one, we went with a vanilla donut base, baked to perfection, tripped dipped in my grandmother’s super special secret recipe passion fruit glaze,” Heather replied, and her eyes twinkled.

  She couldn’t contain her excitement whenever she spoke about her donuts.

  “But where’s the punch?” Eva asked.

  “You know me too well,” Heather replied, and chuckled. She leaned across the counter and lowered her voice. “The punch is the strawberry jelly I’ve hidden inside. But only one side of the donut. You’ll never know where it is until you find it in a surprise bite.”

  “Two for me, please,” Eva said, without hesitation. “Goodness, Heather, you’re a whiz.”

  “It was a team effort,” Heather replied, and patted Ames on the back.

  Her bestie stood behind the coffee machine, her finger on the button without pushing it. She stared at the entrance to the store, pale as newly made fondant.

  “What’s wrong, Ames?” Heather asked, and waggled her friend by the shoulder.

  “Your husband’s here,” Amy said. “Your husband, Heather. Does that mean what I think it means?”

  Heather glanced at Ryan Shepherd, in full cop uniform, at the front of the store. He raised his hand in a half-hearted greeting. Concern wrinkled the crow’s feet lines around either of his eyes.

  “Sheesh, you’d think he never comes to visit unless it’s to do with a case,” Heather replied.

  Amy pressed her lips into a thin line. Apparently, her sense of humor didn’t extend to witnessing a potential crime. Or a murder, for that matter. The last time, she’d tripped over a literal corpse at a Halloween party and been scarred for months.

  “Sometimes,” Amy said, “I wonder why I subject myself to this.” She raised her hand and pressed the back of it against her forehead.

  Ah, the humor hadn’t disappeared, then.

  “For the donuts?” Eva tapped the glass counter.

  “That’s right,” Amy said. “The donuts.”

  Ryan strode across the store and took a seat at the last empty table – not Eva’s, of course – in the center of the store. A couple of the customers looked around, but the donuts and coffees, milkshakes and chatter, soon drew their attention away again.

  “Ames, I’m going to chat to my husband. Would you mind getting Eva her order?”

  “Would I mind?” Amy spluttered. “I’ll probably join her.”

  “I brought another copy of the Hillside Reporter for us to read,” Eva said and brandished the newspaper.

  “Okay, but this time let me help on the crossword, at least.”

  Eva tucked the newspaper under her arm. “No offense, dear, but you always get donut crumbs on the page.”

  Heather strode out from behind the counter and met up with her husband at the center table. She planted a kiss on his cheek, then sat down in the chair opposite him.

  “You’ve got something to tell me, don’t you?”

  Ryan didn’t reply. He pursed his lips.

  “I’m not going to like it, am I?”

  “He’s not dead if that’s what you’re asking,” Ryan replied. He shifted his hand, and their knuckles touched.

  “But you’re investigating,” Heather whispered.

  “It’s not officially a homicide investigation. But I’m highly suspicious it’s attempted homicide. I’ve been cleared to investigate it in that capacity.”

  “What makes you think it’s an attempted homicide?” Heather asked, and her tongue twisted around the words. “He didn’t just collapse from exhaustion?”

  “I haven’t gotten much from the hospital, just yet, but I’m expecting a call soon,” Ryan said. “But he’s in a coma, and that doesn’t smack of exhaustion if you ask me.”

  “That’s not enough to start an investigation over,” Heather replied. She’d been in the ‘game’ long enough to know what the cops took seriously, and what they didn’t. A collapse in a tea store was hardly a call for alarm from them.

  “I got an anonymous call a half hour before Freddy Mars collapsed,” Ryan said. “A man who said he’d witnessed a fight between Freddy Mars and his neighbor, Col Owen.”

  Heather glanced up at Ames, at the front counter. Her bestie gave her a wan smile, then handed a tea shop coupon to one of their customers.

  “You don’t think –?”

  Ryan shook his head and pushed back in the wrought iron seat. “It’s too early to tell,” he replied. “But I’m going to need your help on this one. Can you take some time off? An hour at most.”

  “Sure,” Heather said and broke eye contact with her best friend. The sooner she pr
oved this wasn’t Col’s fault, the better.

  Amy would probably pass out if she suspected she’d been seconds from sipping a poisoned cup of tea.

  Chapter 3

  The back room in Col Owen’s Tea Shop contained boxed upon boxes of teas, cups, saucers, and teapots. The man had collections of the stuff, all marked and neatly categorized.

  “It’s all temperature controlled,” he said and gestured toward the air conditioning unit in the corner of the room. “I have it set to the optimum temperature to maintain maximum flavor.”

  Col sat on a chair in the corner of the room, his arms folded across his broad chest.

  Ryan had taken Mona Petrov to the other room to interview her. Heather couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She’d been through this kind of thing two weeks in a row. So had Col, for that matter.

  “Heather, you don’t really think I’d try to hurt Freddy, do you?” Col asked, and his voice wavered. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but I’m not that kind of guy. I sell tea, for heaven’s sake. I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

  Heather couldn’t give him her honest opinion. She had to help investigate this and put her personal thoughts aside.

  “We’re not officially considering anyone as a suspect, right now,” she said. “However, I do need to ask you a couple of questions.”

  “I’ll do whatever I can to help,” Col said and placed his hands on the thighs of his jean shorts. He dug his fingers into them.

  “Do you and Freddy have a good relationship?” Heather asked, and her gaze tracked across the boxes, lit by the cool, green light from the center bulbs in the store.

  For whatever reason, Col had decided to shade everything in the store green, from the stained from window to the globes themselves.

  “We’re friends, yeah. He comes in every morning to have a cup of tea after his cycle. He loves the green teas in particular,” Col said. “I haven’t had any trouble with him. Sometimes he makes noise late at night, but other than that –”

  “What kind of noise?” Heather asked.

  “Loud music. I think he works late,” Col said. “He has a lot of jobs. He works at the local gym, training people to run and do whatever it is they do at a gym.”