Dave whined, and she shushed him.
The front door to the building banged open, and voices floated down the stairs. An obnoxious man and the squeaks of a suspiciously mousy female.
“That’s it? You’re just going to give up?” Lionel asked. The back of his polo shirt appeared, and he bobbed down the stairs.
Dave shied back and sat down beside Heather’s left ankle. She leaned forward an inch, then snapped back out of sight.
Samantha had followed the murder suspect to the sidewalk. “Yes. I don’t think I’m going to get the formula right. It’s difficult. I know Cheeky had her own plans with this stuff. I can’t mimic her. It wouldn’t be right after what – what happened.”
“Please don’t start crying again, Sam,” Lionel said. He reached out and patted the young woman on her back. “I get it, all right. You miss your cousin. She was family. Sometimes family can be horrible, but you still miss them.”
“She wasn’t horrible,” Samantha croaked.
Lionel guffawed. “You don’t have to defend her, Sam. She’s gone. She was a horrible human being for the most part. She lied to me, embarrassed me and she treated you like trash.”
“I didn’t deserve to be treated well,” Samantha whispered, and lowered her gaze to the floor. “She was right about me.”
Dave growled, and Heather nudged him with the toe of her pump. The thunder rumbled overhead, closer this time, and neither of the two suspects looked up from their conversation.
“So, that’s it? You’re just going to let this opportunity go? You’re going to let it all go after everything you’ve been through? After everything, she put you through? Come on. You’re better than this.” Lionel folded his arms.
“No. I don’t know. Maybe. I – I can’t make that decision, right now,” Samantha whispered, and backed away.
“Cheeky despised you, Sam. Don’t get it twisted. She hated you. She hated everything you stood for. Why do you think she took it from me? She was afraid you’d come after her.”
“I didn’t!”
“I know that,” Lionel growled. “But she didn’t know that, and I can’t help thinking that it would’ve turned out differently if she had.”
“Then why didn’t you tell her?” Samantha asked. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. I’ve got to go, Lionel. I need to be alone, right now.”
“I don’t get it, Sam,” he called out. The thunder rumbled again, still far off.
Dave trembled beside Heather, and she bent, then picked him up and pressed his doggy ear against her chest. She stroked the other one and soothed him. “We’ll go now, buddy.”
“I’ve got to go,” Sam said, again. She stumbled back two paces, then halted and looked up at the darkening sky. “I’ve got to go.”
“But this is what you’ve always wanted! Since the beginning. Since Cheeky suggested the salon in the first place. You’ve finally got your chance to take over now that she’s gone. Take it.” Lionel yelled at her. “For once in your life, take the opportunity, Sweetheart.”
The first fat drops of rain hit the sidewalk. Splats of water. One landed on Dave’s nose, and he shook it off.
“Not like this,” Sam replied, and she raised her palms. “Not like this.” Samantha turned and walked off. Head bowed, and shoulders slumped.
Lionel stood, staring at her back. “Crazy.” He shook his head, then walked back up the stairs to the apartment building. He opened the front door and disappeared inside. A slam and silence afterward.
“This is our shot, Davey boy,” Heather said. “Are you with me on this one?” She glanced up at the dark clouds, then swallowed. “Looks like the lightning is pretty far off. We’ve got one chance to do this and one chance only. I get the feeling that the murderer is about to run.”
Dave barked his agreement and wagged his tail once. Sleet, snow or the sunshine, the dog wasn’t perturbed.
Heather strode around the corner and stopped at the base of the stairs. She glanced up at the building then down the road at Samantha’s figure. The woman walked slow, purposefully but slow.
“Are you ready?” Heather asked.
Dave wagged his tail again, and it slapped against Heather’s upper arm. “All right. Let’s go catch ourselves a murderer.”
Too bad she’d forgotten the Taser in the car.
Chapter 18
Samantha James stood under the tree in the graveyard, gaze lifted to the clouded sky, swirling above her. Tombstones dotted the ground, some old and crumbling, others new or marbled or layered in flowers.
Amy would’ve despised this. Luckily, she was at the store, filling another order of donuts for a local events company.
Heather held Dave in her arms and strode between the graves. Her shoes crunched on dry grass, wilted from the past summer heat. No one had looked after the Old Church Graveyard.
Weird then, that the patch of dirt beneath Samantha’s feet had been turned, recently.
The mouse of a woman met Heather’s stare. She didn’t jump or shy away. “I thought you would be the one to figure it out,” she whispered.
“I hoped I was wrong. You seemed like a nice girl, Samantha,” Heather replied.
Sam shook her head, wordlessly, and tears spilled down her cheeks. The thunder rolled again, closer than before.
“Is that where you buried the gun?” Heather asked, and bobbed her head toward the freshly turned patch of dirt.
“I was afraid they’d find it,” Sam said. “This seemed like the best spot.”
“Why here?” Heather asked.
“I used to come here when I was a girl. It was the only place Cheeky wouldn’t come to find me. I was safe here.” Samantha shrugged. “I guess now I’ll never be safe anywhere.”
Heather sighed, then placed Dave on the ground beside her. She took his leash and held it loosely in her hand. He didn’t bark at Samantha. Instead, he sniffed at the edge of the nearest grave.
“Don’t you dare pee on that, Dave,” Heather said.
He lifted his leg then put it back down again.
Heather turned back to the murderer. “Do you want to tell me why? This might be your last chance to get it all out in the open.”
“I guess,” Samantha replied. “Yeah, that would be a good thing. I’d like to talk about it.”
“Who fired the first shot?”
Samantha worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Cheeky shot first. It was her gun. Well, no, that’s not true, it was Lionel’s gun. She borrowed it from him, and when I came in, she pulled it on me.”
“But why?” Heather asked. “Why would she want to shoot you?”
“Cheeky, ah, how do I put this,” Samantha replied. “Cheeky was temperamental. She found my notes the night before, and she went totally crazy at me. She screamed, pulled my hair, threatened me to stay away from her salon. I didn’t want to upset her. It’s just –”
“Wait,” Heather replied and raised her palms. “I’m missing something here. What notes?”
“I wanted to start my salon way before Cheeky did, but she was the one who took it seriously. I didn’t. I don’t think she knew that I had the same aspirations as her. So, when she saw me drawing up notes for my salon, she freaked out.” Sam gasped and swallowed to stop from crying. “She didn’t realize that her whole business had inspired me. I admired her for starting up on her own. But she hated me anyway.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. She always has. Since we were kids. She teased me in high school. She made my life difficult.” Samantha pushed off from the tree, then paced up and down. “And there was nothing I could do to change that. I don’t understand why.”
“Maybe she was jealous?”
“Jealous? Of what. I’m a nerd. Oh, come on, look at me. I’m –”
“Natural. And brilliant,” Heather said, then jammed her mouth shut. Even though Sam had murdered another woman, she wanted to help her. “So, you shot her because she made you angry?”
“No,” Sam rep
lied, and her eyes glazed over. “Cheeky was furious. I didn’t know she had Lionel’s gun. I just knew that she was under a lot of pressure, and I wanted to assure her that I didn’t have any plans of starting my own salon in competition with hers.”
“So you went over to her place.”
“Yes. To Cheeky’s Nails. I walked into the office, and she had the gun out. Biggest gun I’ve ever seen. She told me to get out, or I’d regret it. I was shocked. I tried to reason with her. She was my cousin, you know, and this was crazy.”
“Right.” Heather passed Dave’s leash to her other hand. “And then she shot at you?”
“She shot once, and the bullet missed. That made her angrier. She stepped toward me and raised the gun again, and that’s when I rushed at her. I grabbed the gun. Gosh, I was afraid, Heather. I was terrified that she would actually shoot me. The gun went off. So loud. My ears are still ringing from it.” Samantha gazed off into the distance, lost in the memory.
“And then?”
“Then it happened. I got control of the gun. I didn’t mean to pull the trigger. I didn’t even understand why it was happening. But it went off and then she was on the floor, and I didn’t know what to do. I panicked.”
“You moved the body and hid the gun,” Heather said.
“I didn’t think anyone would believe me,” Sam replied, then squared her shoulders. She met Heather’s gaze. “But I don’t care anymore. I’m going to Hillside PD. I’m going to turn myself in. Cheeky’s mom deserves to know why her daughter is gone. And I have to pay for this, one way or another.”
Heather walked up to Samantha, then placed her hand on the young woman’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sam.”
“Thanks, but this –”
“No, I mean, I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’ll have to pay for this. If all the evidence comes back and corroborates your story, then you won’t have to pay at all. This was self-defense,” Heather replied.
“But I hid the gun, and I messed with the scene,” Samantha replied, and raised her fingers to her mouth. She bit her nails.
“As long as you come forward now, you’ll be fine. This was a horrible mistake. They happen, unfortunately. Trust me. I’ve experienced something similar, first hand,” Heather replied.
Samantha blinked at her.
“Would you like me to call my husband now?”
“Yes,” Sam said. “Please.”
Chapter 19
“Are you ready?” Ryan asked, and sat down at the counter in Donut Delights. He dragged her laptop across the glass top of the wrought iron table, then clicked on the email icon on her desktop.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Heather replied. She gripped Amy’s hand and squeezed, hard. Her bestie squeezed right back.
They’d gathered together, her assistants, her friends, in the bakery for this moment. Regardless of whether Heather had passed or failed, her friends would be there for her.
“It will be fine, boss,” Jung called from the corner. He had a donut on the plate in front of him, a Choc Pomegranate Glazed, but he didn’t touch it.
Maricela and Angelica stood arm-in-arm, eyes wide as dinner plates.
Eva and Lilly sat at Eva’s favorite table near the front of the store, each grasping a glass of milkshake, the straws poked out of the foamy, thick liquid at opposite angles.
“Wait,” Heather said. “Before we find out, I just want to thank you guys for being here. No matter what happens, I’m glad that I’ll be finding out with the people I care for most in the world.”
“You’re gonna ace it!” Ken yelled, and raised his camera to his eye. “And I’ll be here to document the moment you find out.”
“Put it down,” Maricela hissed and looked around for her rolling pin.
“Enough,” Ryan said and chuckled. “Let’s rip the Band-Aid off, already.” He clicked on the first email in the box, addressed to Heather Shepherd, of course, and opened it up.
Heather squeezed her eyes shut. The results. Her results. Oh, she could barely keep her anxiety inside. Nothing else mattered. If she’d passed, she’d be able to help her husband investigate, properly.
“Heather Shepherd,” Ryan said, somberly.
“Oh, it’s so formal,” Amy whispered, then squeezed Heather’s hand, tighter.
Ryan cleared his throat. “Please find attached your final result for your private investigator’s diploma. Investigative Trainers Incorporated would like to offer our sincerest –”
“Don’t say condolences,” Amy squeaked.
Heather stared at the blackness of the insides of her eyelids.
“– congratulate you on passing your final exam. You will receive your diploma via email shortly. Should you wish to receive a copy via conventional mail, please forward your postal address to the following –”
The room erupted in applause. Amy threw her arms around Heather and squeezed the breath from her lungs.
Heather Shepherd opened her eyes and stared at her husband through the rain of confetti and streamers – held by Jung and Lilly.
Ryan blew her kiss. “I knew you could do it,” he said.
She couldn’t hear the words over the clapping and cheers, but she felt them in her soul.
She could do it. Now, Heather could do anything.
THE END
A letter from the Author
To each and every one of my Amazing readers: I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think by leaving a review!
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Stay Curious,
Susan Gillard
Chocolate Pomegranate Glaze Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 18 Page 7
