Oreo Sprinkled Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 22

by Susan Gillard

  Ryan shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. That’s what we have to figure out.”

  “Right.” Heather glanced up at the ceiling at to the corners of the room. “No cameras?”

  “Apparently, Henry Boddington had ordered the surveillance system, but it hadn’t been installed yet. All he had was a stock standard alarm on the door.”

  “Oh, I see. So the alarm was triggered?”

  “Yeah at 4 am this morning,” Ryan replied.

  Heather paced around to her husband’s side of the case and sighed. “That makes this even crazier. The alarm is triggered the thief rushes in and breaks the case. The egg is stolen and presumably, Henry walks in on the act.”

  “Yeah?”

  “And then the thief turns murderer and drugs him?” Heather shook her head. “I’m sorry, hon, that just doesn’t make sense. And it doesn’t work the other way around either. There’s more to this case than meets the eye. Mark my words.”

  “I always do,” Ryan said. “Look, only time will tell. Once we have the tox report back and the team has swept for fingerprints, we’ll have more information.”

  Heather bobbed her chin up and down. Her thoughts meandered back to Donut Delights, and then to Lilly who Eva had dropped off at school that morning. With the new assistant on the way in, Heather had had to be at the store earlier than usual.

  “Oh, and there’s one more thing,” Ryan said, then slipped a piece of paper into view. “We found this on Boddington’s desk.”

  Heather took the page from her husband and scanned it. A short typed letter signed, Sara Hines. “We need to talk?”

  “That’s right. It looks like Sara Hines is a credible suspect.”

  Heather nodded and handed back the page. “I agree on that account. But then, the note is typed. Anyone could’ve typed it up and printed it out. Perhaps, the murderer wanted to frame her.” Boy, this case had gotten convoluted, fast.

  Ryan slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace. “Don’t worry too much about it, yet. Let’s just follow the leads and walk through it, like we usually do.”

  “I guess,” Heather replied, and rested the side of her head on her husband’s shoulder for a brief moment.

  Unease swirled through her belly and curled up to her throat. Oh yeah, something about this definitely wasn’t right.

  “Poor Henry,” Heather whispered. At least, he’d fulfilled his dream before he’d died. Only now, that dream had been stolen, and the cost had been Henry’s life.

  Chapter 4

  Amy whistled and kept an easy pace next to Heather. She grasped her fall coat and pulled it tight around her chest.

  “How are you wearing that, right now?” Heather asked. “It’s so humid I can barely breathe.”

  “Oh, please. Don’t be such a drama queen.” Amy rolled her eyes and dusted off her coat.

  “Hey, that’s my line.”

  “I bought this particular item of clothing yesterday, and I will not allow this weird weather to stop me from wearing it. The calendar says fall. I don’t care what the weatherman says.” Beads of sweat gathered at Amy’s temples.

  “Well, do you care about heat stroke?” Heather asked, and studied her bestie’s pink cheeks. “Because it cares about you.”

  Amy nudged Heather, then pointed at the sidewalk. “Focus on the task at hand, woman. Gosh, ever since Lils moved in with you, you’ve been in total mom mode.”

  Heather chuckled, then swept her fingers through her hair. “That reminds me. I’ve got to fetch her from School in about an hour, so we’d better make this quick.”

  Amy looped her arm through Heather’s, then grimaced and dropped it to her side again. “Too hot,” she muttered.

  The pair traipsed down the main road in Hillside. Cars cruised by, windows down in most cases, and air cons up in others. A trio of young women strode past, all dressed in skirts and lose blouses.

  Amy flapped a hand in front of her face. “So, where are we going, anyway?”

  “Hines Jewelry.”

  “Oh wow. She owns a jewelry store?” Amy asked. “And the Goose’s Egg was a massive nugget of gold.”

  “And she fought with Boddington in front of me.”

  “That’s not suspicious at all,” Amy replied.

  “Precisely.” Heather turned the corner, then halted in front of the suspect’s store.

  The front door stood wide open, and the boutique glass windows provided views of glittering diamonds and gold watches. Amy cooed and took an involuntary step toward the entrance.

  “This is not a retail therapy session, Ames,” Heather said. “It’s an investigation.”

  White and red printed signs stood beside several items on display. They read: Clearance Sale.

  Had Sara’s business been in trouble?

  Heather walked through the entrance and into the cool interior of the store. The scent of new carpets and varnish assaulted her nostrils. She sneezed forcibly, and a woman yelped and popped up behind a cash register at the far end of the store.

  Sara Hines plastered up a winning smile, but it slid from her face a second later. “You.”

  “I think she recognizes you,” Amy said and unbuttoned her coat. “I could be wrong, though.”

  Heather pressed her lips together and resisted the urge to hum a tune. She’d almost trained herself out of that nervous habit, but at times like these, it tickled the tip of her tongue.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Hines,” Heather said.

  “What do you want?”

  “World peace,” Amy said, and clasped her hands together in front of her chest. Perhaps, the heat stroke had traveled from her cheeks and into her brain. “And a glass of water, if you’ve got it.”

  Sara Hines gaze flickered from Heather to Amy, and her brow creased. “Pardon?”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard that Mr. Boddington has passed,” Heather said and moved toward the counter. Her low-slung heels scraped on the carpet.

  Sara’s mouth dropped open, then snapped shut again.

  Heather glanced around the store, but the place was quiet as the grave. Once again, a bad turn of phrase, given the circumstances.

  “Yeah,” she said, at last. “What about it? What do you want?”

  Jumpy. Very jumpy. Never a good sign in a potential suspect. “I’ve come to ask you a few questions,” Heather said, “in a professional capacity.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “It means you’re going to need to get me that glass of water because this might take a while,” Amy said, and finally opened her coat. She flapped it to create a breeze.

  “I’m working the Hillside Police Department to investigate the suspicious circumstances surrounding Henry’s death.” Heather lowered her tone and walked up to the counter.

  Sara tucked strands of fiery red hair behind her ear, then glanced past Heather and at the front door. Thoughts of escape?

  “I don’t know anything about Henry’s death.”

  “But you were going to meet with him today, weren’t you?” Heather asked. And Sara had seemed spooked to see her, a known investigator, before the murder, as well.

  “I – yeah, so what if I was? Henry and I had important business matters to discuss.”

  “What kind of business matters?” Amy chirped, and continued flapping her coat.

  “Private ones,” Sara replied, through gritted teeth. “Look, Henry put up that display and the Egg without any forethought. He didn’t even have the thing properly appraised. I just wanted to talk to him about the potential he had to make a lot of money off the thing and he didn’t want to hear a word of it.”

  “I see.”

  Sara nodded and swallowed. “Yeah, he kept going on and on about his dream and how it was important to share this gift with the world. It was lame. Old guys usually are.”

  “That’s just mean,” Amy said.

  Heather tapped the tips of her finger on the glass counter, above the display of precious gems on a red v
elvet cushion. A fine layer of dust coated them. “You’re aware that the Goose’s Egg has been stolen?”

  “What?!” Sara jerked forward. The papers hadn’t printed that detail yet. The police had retained it.

  “That would be a no, then?” Amy chuckled.

  “It’s been – but how? I don’t understand. Do you mean that Henry was murdered for the egg?” Sara asked, and grabbed at her navy blue blazer. “Look, I wouldn’t hurt a soul. I certainly wouldn’t hurt Henry. He irritated me but –”

  “Miss Hines, where were you this morning at around 4 am?” Heather asked. And her mind flashed back to the first time Ryan Shepherd had questioned her.

  Warmth crept up her neck. She’d truly traded places.

  “I was in bed,” Sara hissed. “Sleeping, like a normal person.”

  “Is there anyone who can confirm that?” Heather asked.

  “No,” Sara replied. “Of course not. I’m a single woman. Unless cats start talking, there’s no one to confirm –”

  “Oh ho, a cat person,” Amy said and shook her head.

  Sara Hines gabbled, wordlessly.

  “That will be all for now, Miss Hines,” Heather said and checked her watch. She had to leave now if she wanted to be on time to pick Lils up from school. “Thank you for your time.”

  The businesswoman didn’t reply.

  Chapter 5

  Heather checked her filigree watch, then clicked her tongue. Emily still hadn’t arrived for work. She’d never judge one of her assistants by the way their family behaved – though Jabby Joe had sure freaked her out – tardiness was right under rudeness on Heather’s list of ‘things not to do.’

  “She’ll be here,” Amy said.

  “I know. It’s just frustrating. I hired her because she seemed like the perfect fit for us. She’s so sweet, and she came with a fantastic recommendation from a bakery over in Dallas, but this is just –”

  The front door of Donut Delights swung inward, and two people walked in. Eva Schneider, who waved, then made a beeline for her favorite spot in the sun, and Emily.

  Miss Potts darted toward the counter. “I’m so, so sorry I’m late,” she whispered. “Mrs. Shepherd, I –”

  “Heather,” she said, then frowned at Emily’s arm. A bruise peered from beneath her plain, cotton t-shirt. “What happened?’

  Emily glanced down at the bruise then back up at Heather. “I – oh, it’s nothing. I just rushed to get here and, uh, ran into the door on my way out of my apartment.”

  Heather’s lie detector dinged into the red. “I see.” What did Emily have to hide? Did it have to do with her bossy brother?

  “I had trouble this morning. My brother’s supposed to be going out to look for jobs and, look, Mrs. – uh, I mean, Heather, I’m not this type of person.” Emily’s bright blue eyes filled with tears. “I don’t skip out on work or arrive late. Please, don’t think negatively of me.”

  “I don’t,” Heather said, and smiled at the young woman. “Maricela and Jung are swamped in the kitchen. They could use your help with the Oreo Sprinkles.”

  “I’m on it,” Emily said and heaved a sigh of relief. “Thanks for understanding.”

  Heather waved her assistant away, then wriggled her lips.

  Amy sniffed. “I smell a lie,” she said.

  “Me too. There’s something going on with Emily that she’s not telling us.”

  “You going to sleuth out the truth?” Amy asked, and tightened the straps of her Donut Delights apron.

  “Unfortunately, I don’t have time. I’ve got to get to the bottom of this case, and the store is at capacity and –”

  “And, you need a break. So, why don’t you go sit down with Eva for a while?” Amy prodded her in the small of her back. “She asked after you yesterday morning when you were at the crime scene.”

  Heather grinned at her bestie. She always knew exactly what to say and when. “All right, all right, I’m going.” Heather bent and grabbed a plate, then fed two Oreo Sprinkled Donuts onto its porcelain surface.

  She walked to Eva’s table, then placed the plate on the table and sat down.

  “Hello, dear,” Eva said and shifted a newspaper to one side. She folded it, meticulously, her wrinkled fingers brushed the paper, and put it down.

  “How are you today, Eva?”

  “Oh, just wonderful, as usual. I love seeing the buzz of people in this store. The newcomers,” she said and gestured to a table of businessmen and women. “And the regulars, like me.” She jerked her thumb toward Sharon Janis, who sat in the corner, surrounded by her bevy of gossiping women.

  “Gosh, I’ve been so busy lately, I haven’t gotten the chance to sit down and chat.”

  “Things will calm down in due time,” Eva replied. She reached for the Oreo Sprinkled Donut closest to her, lifted it, then took a bite. “Oh delicious,” she said. She lifted a napkin and dabbed her lips. “You’re a genius, Heather.”

  “I’m not sure about that.”

  “Trouble, dear?”

  Heather sighed and brushed the glass top of the wrought iron table. “I’ve just started a new case, and to say it’s muddy would be an understatement.”

  “I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Eva said, then took another bite of her donut.

  “Here’s the thing,” Heather said. “It looks like this was a crime motivated by gold. By a burglary, but at the same time, the murder weapon, the method, doesn’t suit the crime.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m not supposed to discuss official police business,” Heather said, then rolled her eyes. “But I can say that a person who breaks a glass case, while an alarm is ringing in the background, isn’t going to stop and drug his victim to death.”

  “That doesn’t make sense at all,” Eva said and put her half-eaten donut down. “No, not at all.”

  “Precisely,” Heather said, and her gaze swept the table and rested on the paper. Recognition flashed through her mind. “What’s that article about?”

  Eva picked up the paper and handed it to her. “The local jewelry store here. Owned by that Sara Bines or Hines or the like. Apparently, she’s in trouble with the bank.”

  The Hillside Reporter had a bad habit of creating news from the resident’s personal problems. Heather pressed her lips together and scanned the article. “So, she’s in financial trouble. That explains the clearance sale.”

  “Clearance sale?”

  “Oh, nothing, nothing. Just thinking out loud,” Heather said and smiled at her friend.

  Eva Schneider smiled back and returned to her donut.

  Sara Hines might’ve needed money, but would she have been stupid enough to steal the Goose’s Egg for it? Heather tapped her bottom lip and gazed out into the sunny street.

  What would Ryan have said? Follow the leads. So, that was exactly what she’d do.

  Chapter 6

  “This is the worst part of any of your investigations,” Amy said and clutched the Donut Delights box. “The worst.”

  “I know,” Heather said. “But it’s just something we have to do.”

  Interviewing the grieving spouse was low on Heather’s ‘fun list.' She’d made a lot of lists, apparently, and baking donuts with Lilly topped the fun one.

  Heather raised her fist and rapped her knuckles on the white wood of the front door. She glanced up at the brick ceiling of the alcove which shaded the entrance and waited.

  “Maybe she’s not home,” Amy said.

  But the widow Boddington’s car sat in the flat ‘crete driveway which led up to the garage.

  Heather pressed the doorbell, instead.

  “Coming,” a woman called out, within.

  “Shoot,” Amy said. “She is home.”

  “You didn’t have to come with.”

  “Oh please, I’m the only reason you’re able to do this. Without my inappropriate jokes, your investigations would be dry as toast.” Amy’s stomach grumbled. She shrugged, and the donuts hopped in her box. “I didn’
t eat this morning.”

  Latches snapped back, the door handled depressed, and then the door swung inward.

  Mrs. Boddington clutched the wood and stared out at them through red, puffy eyes. “May I help you?” She asked, and blinked in the influx of light. The darkened hall beyond her revealed nothing but the scent of detergent.

  “Mrs. Boddington? I’m Heather Shepherd, and this is my friend, Amy Givens,” she said and gestured to her bestie.

  Amy presented the widow with the box of donuts.

  Mrs. Boddington accepted them, but the frown didn’t leave her face. “I – is there a reason for your visit?” She asked, politely.

  “Yes, we’d like to offer our condolences to you,” Heather said.

  The widow’s bottom lip trembled. She stiffened it, then cleared her throat. “Thank you. I – Henry was an amazing man.”

  “I met him once, but he seemed very knowledgeable,” Heather replied. “Focused on his dream of bringing Hillside’s heritage to the forefront in all our minds.”

  The widow hiccupped and pressed her fingers to her lips.

  “Mrs. Boddington, I’m working with the Hillside Police Department as a consultant on your husband’s case. Would you be willing to answer a few questions?” Heather asked. She tucked her hands behind her back and crossed her fingers.

  Mrs. Boddington studied Heather’s expression, then nodded. “All right. But please, call me Kerry.” She turned and shuffled into her home, then turned left.

  Heather and Amy exchanged a glanced.

  “That was easy,” Amy muttered.

  “A little too easy.”

  “Like eggs over easy?” Amy asked.

  “First thing after this, we’re stopping for breakfast,” Heather replied.

  They entered the hall then followed Kerry Boddington’s route into the next room. A kitchen filled with sunlight. Flowers stood in a vase in the center of the table, but their stems drooped, and the water level touched the bottoms of their stems.

  Kerry placed the Donut Delights box on her countertop, then turned to them. “Please, take a seat.”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Amy replied, and pulled out a chair. She sat down, then leaned back and shut her eyes.