by Jessica Beck
“You can get the recipe later,” I said, not meaning to snap at my mother but barking at her a little nonetheless. Phillip gave me a look that said I’d overstepped my boundaries, not that I’d needed it. “I’m sorry, Momma. I’d just like to know about Bethesda Long and how she might be a part of what’s been happening at the Finney estate besides planning Jasper’s party.”
“Is there something you haven’t shared with me about her?” Phillip asked me.
“No. I just can’t help wondering what she was looking for this morning,” I admitted. “Besides, she seemed to be everywhere yesterday, and no one notices a party planner if they show up in unexpected places, do they? It would be the perfect cover to move around without anyone realizing that they were doing more than planning an event, wouldn’t it?”
“You have a suspicious mind,” Phillip said.
“Watch it, dear. That’s my daughter you’re talking about,” Momma warned him.
“It was a compliment, I assure you,” Phillip replied.
“That’s certainly how I took it,” I said quickly, rushing to his defense.
My mother seemed bemused by us taking up for each other, so she let it drop. “Let me ask around. How much time do I have?”
“At least until dessert,” I said, laughing.
“I may need more than that,” Momma replied. “For the moment, all I want to do is enjoy this wonderful meal.”
“I second it,” Phillip said quickly.
“And I’ll third it,” I chimed in.
After we finished eating, Phillip asked me, “So, what’s on tap for this afternoon? I’d be happy to go with you if you have more sleuthing scheduled.”
“I’d love to, but Emma and I have to make another batch of donuts this afternoon,” I said.
“Whatever for? Is there another party?” Momma asked.
“I wouldn’t call it that, but some folks might. Jasper paid me in advance to make a batch of donuts for his wake,” I admitted.
“I didn’t realize you’d have to get started so soon,” Phillip said.
“You knew about this?” Momma asked him.
“Hey, Suzanne and I are like this,” he said as he displayed two crossed fingers.
“He saw me reading the letter today I got from Jasper before he died,” I admitted. I reached for the check, but Momma was quicker. “I was going to pick that up,” I protested.
“You may get it the next time,” Momma said.
“You always say that, but you never let me do it,” I said.
“Consider it a mother’s prerogative. Now you be careful, do you hear me?”
“Making donuts? What kind of trouble can I get into doing that?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but you often manage to find a way,” she replied.
I grinned at her before I answered. “I’d argue with you about that, but it happens to be true.” Once we were outside, I surprised both Momma and Phillip by giving her a hug and then him. “Thanks for going with me this morning.”
“Any time,” he said with a smile.
“I’ll be glad to drop you both off before I go to work,” I volunteered.
“I believe the walk will do us good, given what we just consumed,” Momma said. “Keep us posted,” she said, and Phillip just waved as they headed off for home on foot.
I was crossing the street to go to Donut Hearts when I realized that someone was out front waiting for me.
Two someones, as a matter of fact.
Chapter 15
“I’m surprised to see you both here. I heard you were in Union Square,” I told Phyllis and Henry as I reached for my keys. I didn’t think they’d try anything in broad daylight, but then again, what did I know? Was it worth risking my life over, just in case I was wrong?
“We were, but we came back to see you instead. Suzanne, frankly, we’re worried,” Phyllis said, showing me a vulnerable side I hadn’t seen before. “Henry convinced me that we should talk to you about Jasper’s death before something else happened.”
“Murder, you mean,” I said as I put my key in the lock. The more I thought about it, though, I was probably safer outside with them than I’d be in the donut shop. At least out where we were, people driving by, visiting the Boxcar Grill, ReNEWed, or The Last Page, might see us.
“You’re right. Murder,” she said as she looked around. “Must we talk out here? I feel so exposed.”
“I’d rather, if you don’t mind,” I said.
“She doesn’t trust us,” Henry said calmly. “And really, can you blame her?” Gone was the dangerous version of the man I’d witnessed before, but I knew that he might not be very far away.
“No, I suppose not,” she said. “Very well. May we at least sit down? It’s been a trying day, and it’s only going to get worse.”
“We can do that,” I said as I moved over to one of the chairs we kept outside for our customers. It was also where Emma and I took our breaks mid-donut run, though that normally happened during what most folks thought of as the middle of the night.
After we were all settled in, Henry prompted his companion. “Go on, Phyllis. Tell her.”
“First of all, I want to say that I didn’t kill my grandfather, and neither did Henry.”
“I wish that was all that it took,” I said, “but nobody’s going to believe either one of you without some sort of proof to back it up.”
“Would it help if we didn’t have motives?” Henry asked.
“It might,” I replied.
Henry sighed, and then he nodded once. “I don’t like to mention this, but the fact is, Phyllis doesn’t need the money from the inheritance, and I certainly don’t either.”
“Why is that? I was under the impression that you were both just scraping by,” I replied, watching them closely.
“Far from it, as a matter of fact,” Phyllis said. “Just because we live beneath our means doesn’t mean that we’re broke. Not at all.”
“Where did this supposed money come from all of a sudden?” I asked. It was probably a rude question, but in a way, that was kind of what I did, ask things that others were afraid to.
“It’s not all of a sudden at all. Have you heard the song from the seventies called, “Truly, Truly, Truly Yours”?”
“Of course I have,” I said. “It’s been on the radio forever, and I’ve heard it in at least a dozen movies over the years.”
“Don’t forget the commercials,” Phyllis said.
“My dad wrote it,” Henry said softly.
“Your father was Dylan McDylan?” I asked incredulously. Dylan was a pop star who had enjoyed a twenty-year solo career, and then, at the height of his fame, he’d died suddenly in a car crash, leaving behind a wife and small baby. “You’re Little Henry,” I said. “Just like in the song.”
“Yes, just like in the song,” Henry admitted. “Mom passed away five years after Dad died. They said it was due to complications from surgery, but I knew it was from a broken heart. She never got over my father’s death. The thing is, I was her only heir.”
“And all of the rights passed on to you?”
Henry nodded. “Dad was a stickler for owning the copyright on every song he ever wrote. No matter who covered it or how it was used, he got paid for it. He was a pretty savvy businessman as well as a performer.”
“If anything, Henry has even grown the brand more since he took over the estate,” Phyllis said proudly. “But not for his personal gain. He runs a charitable foundation that does a great deal of good, but that doesn’t mean that we’re not comfortable beyond my wildest expectations.”
“Okay, money might not have been a motive for you, but how about something else? Convince me that you didn’t kill him,” I said.
“Jasper and I were reconciling,”
Phyllis said. “I know how I come off when I’m around my family. I revert to some kind of shrew. They know every button to push, and they seem to delight in pressing them. Ethan does, at any rate. Jasper and I were working things out, though. He was even going to give me away at my wedding,” she said. “Ask Bobby. He knows all about it.”
“Not Ethan?” I asked her.
“My brother was always the black sheep of the family,” she admitted. “No one but a few folks know that he was in and out of my grandfather’s will like a revolving door. My guess is that he jumped on the opportunity to kill him while he was currently in Jasper’s good graces.”
It gave me chills realizing that Phyllis’s scenario was much like one of my own. “What about Bobby?”
“He means well. Frankly, he’s a little impulsive, but considering who raised him, he’s a model citizen.”
“You don’t have any real love for your brother, do you?” I asked her.
“If he’d been found dead, I would have probably turned myself in, whether I’d done it or not. Goodness knows there’s enough history between us to lead the police to the conclusion that I did it. But not Jasper. Never Jasper.”
Phyllis looked truly upset about her grandfather’s death. This was a different woman than I’d seen so far. Was she acting, or was this the real Phyllis Carlisle? That was the question. I didn’t think Henry was lying, though. His story would be too easy to check, not that I was going to take it at face value. After all, the one thing most liars were really good at was lying.
“You knew about the key to the study, though,” I said, trying to answer every question I had about the pair.
“So did Ethan, and Bobby too, as a matter of fact,” she said. “For all I know, Bethesda knew about it as well. She spent a great deal of time with Jasper planning his party over the past few months, and they got close.”
“How close?” I asked her.
“It’s not what you’re thinking. There wasn’t anything romantic between them. At least I don’t think there was,” she added doubtfully.
“Couldn’t Perry Kilroy know about the key, too?” I asked.
“He didn’t, though,” Phyllis reminded me. “I may not care for the man, but he seemed genuinely surprised that the door was even locked.”
“At least he acted that way,” Henry said.
Phyllis frowned for a moment before she answered. “Somebody should probably talk to him.”
“The police tried, but Perry Kilroy ran,” I said.
“He took off?” Phyllis asked. “Doesn’t that just scream that he’s guilty?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he just felt like getting away,” I offered.
“Are you on his side, Suzanne?” Henry asked me coolly.
“There’s one thing you should have no doubt in your mind about. I’m not on anyone’s side but Jasper’s,” I said.
“Well, so are we,” Phyllis said. “I just wanted you to know that Henry and I weren’t involved with what happened.”
“You don’t happen to have alibis to seal the deal, do you?” I asked.
“Only each other,” Henry said with the first hint of a wry grin I’d seen him sport. He knew as well as I did how worthless their corroboration was. “The thing is, Phyllis hates being considered a suspect in her own grandfather’s murder. Can you blame her?”
“Of course not,” I said. I saw Emma approaching, but she hesitated when she noticed that I was talking with a pair of strangers. She lifted both eyebrows in the form of a question, and I nodded in reply. As she approached, I stood. “I appreciate you both coming down to the donut shop, but if I’m going to make treats for your grandfather’s wake, I’d better get started.”
“I didn’t know that was even happening,” Phyllis said. “Surely Ethan didn’t order them.”
“As a matter of fact, Jasper did,” I said.
“What? How is that even possible?”
“He made the request the day before he died. In fact, he even paid in advance,” I explained.
“He must have had a feeling that something was going to happen to him,” Henry said sagely.
“That’s the growing consensus. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get busy.”
“Of course,” Henry said as he took Phyllis’s arm gently.
“What was that all about?” Emma asked me as she joined me at the door to Donut Hearts.
“Honestly? I’m not completely sure,” I answered. “Sorry to drag you back in after you worked all morning here twice in two days.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “I’m happy to help out.”
“I know, but you’re not doing it for free,” I replied as I pulled Jasper’s hundred out of my pocket and handed it to her.
“What’s this?” she asked me.
“It’s what Jasper gave me to make donuts for his wake,” I explained. “I want you to have all of it.”
“What about your expenses? You should at least recoup those,” Emma said, refusing the money.
“No, this one’s on me. It’s my way of honoring an old friend.”
Emma frowned. “Why can’t I honor him, too? Put that to good use somewhere else. I’m working for free today, too.”
“Emma, you don’t have to do that,” I said, trying to push the bill on her yet again.
“I know I don’t. I want to, though.” She frowned, and then it suddenly blossomed into a full-tilt grin. “I’ve got an idea.”
“I’m listening,” I said.
“Let’s donate it to the soup kitchen in Jasper’s name. I know they’d be delighted to get it, and think about how many people we can feed in his memory.”
I put the bill on the counter and hugged my assistant. “Emma Blake, you are an amazing young woman. You know that, don’t you?”
Emma said lightly in my ear, “That’s what I keep telling everybody, but no one seems to want to listen.”
I pulled my head back so I could look her straight in the eye. “I’m serious.”
“So am I,” she said as she pulled away with a smile. “Why don’t you take the lead this afternoon? After all, you probably miss working in the donut shop; it’s been so long since you were here last.”
I laughed. “I know you’re teasing, but in a way, it’s true. This place has a way of getting into your blood.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” she said. “Now, what can I do, boss?”
“Start folding boxes while I get the cake donut batter ready,” I said with a smile.
“You’ve got it.”
It was going to be a small run, all cake donuts and no yeast ones, so today was going to go much faster than the day before had. That was a good thing. I wanted to get the order knocked out, go home and take a quick shower and change, and then deliver them to the Finney estate in time for the wake. I wouldn’t mind if Jake—or even Grace—got back in time to help, but if neither one of them did, I’d be fine making my delivery on my own.
“By the way, I saw the paper this morning,” I told Emma as I finished glazing the last of the cake donuts. All that was left on my end was to ice a handful of others with a chocolate glaze, and the donuts needed to cool a little before I did that. My assistant was in hot, soapy water up to her elbows, and she couldn’t have seemed any happier. I was fortunate to have her, both in my business and my life, and I made sure that a day didn’t go by that I didn’t tell her that.
“What did you think?” she asked me neutrally.
“I have to say that your dad did a fair job,” I admitted.
“I especially liked the pictures you took,” she said with a grin. “They were hilarious.”
The front page had featured a shot Ray had to have taken himself of the front of the house. He’d manipulated the image to make it dark and oppressive. I kn
ew that most legitimate newspapers frowned on photo manipulation of any kind, but Ray was a law in and of himself. His paper had more of a feel of a tabloid than a real newspaper, though I would never dream of saying anything like that to the editor’s face. He prided himself on the April Springs Sentinel, and woe to the person who denigrated it in front of him. Inside the paper, where it mattered much less, were some of the photos that Jake had taken. Try as he might, even Ray and his liberal use of artistic license couldn’t make those images very interesting.
“I have a gift for photography, wouldn’t you say?”
“Some people might,” Emma said with a laugh. “I don’t mean me, but some people. Did you read the story?”
“I did,” I admitted. “On the whole, it wasn’t as overly dramatic as I worried it might be.”
“How did you like all of the attributes to ‘two unnamed sources on the scene’? I take it Jake was informant number two?”
“I couldn’t say,” I said with a full-blown grin. “I’m still trying to figure out who the first source of information was.”
“I wonder,” Emma said with a giggle.
After I let Emma out, I surveyed the boxes of donuts on hand, ready for delivery. I was proud of her, of us, actually, for contributing the money Jasper had paid me to the soup kitchen. This was indeed our tribute to the man we’d lost: a customer and a friend.
But I couldn’t deliver them smelling like a donut shop, no matter how enticing my husband found the aroma. I had time, if I hurried, to go home, take a quick shower, change clothes, and still make my delivery before the wake began.
I locked up the shop and headed home, hoping to see Jake’s truck or even Grace’s company car on the short drive there.
Unfortunately, neither one of those things happened.
