“No problem,” Amy said, then made eyes at Heather. The ‘Ames’ command.
Heather cleared her throat. “Emily, do you have a bathroom I could use?”
“No. Emily doesn’t have a bathroom, she uses the outdoor facilities,” Amy said, then snorted.
“Yeah, it’s right down the hall and to the left,” Emily replied.
“I’ll be right back,” Heather said, then rose from her seat. “I’m sure Amy will be able to fill you in on all the details of your Halloween plans while I’m gone.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Amy muttered.
Heather hurried through the living area, past the coffee table, and into the hall. She walked toward the bathroom, then halted.
She crept toward the door on the right, then opened it.
A perfectly made bed, dressed in pale, pink sheets stared out at her. A vase of flowers sat on the dresser, along with several tubes of lipstick and what looked to be a pot of concealer.
Definitely, Emily’s room.
Heather turned and crossed to the door opposite.
“So, basically, we’ll have Halloween themed donuts,” Amy said.
“Is that all?” Emily asked. “I hoped we’d do something exciting. Like a Trick or Treat theme.”
“Ah, that’s exactly right. That is exactly what I was going to say next,” Amy replied, and clicked her fingers.
Heather rolled her eyes, then grasped the door handle and entered the next room.
The scent of sweat and cologne accosted her nostrils, and Heather stuck two fingers beneath her nose to block it out. “Oh gosh,” she whispered. Then exhaled and shuddered.
Curtains covered the window and gloom shifted across the beige sheets on Joe’s bed. Knives, marbles and toy cars covered the surfaces in the room. A dresser in the corner. A bedside table. A small desk.
Heather clicked on the bedroom light, and the white fluorescent glow stunned her.
She blinked, then scanned the area.
“If I were a Goose’s Egg, where would I hide?” She whispered.
“How will the trick or treating theme work?” Emily’s voice carried down the hall.
“Uh,” Amy said. “Uh, well. Heather really knows more about that than I do.”
The closet door stood ajar. Heather hurried over to it and wrenched it open, then reached in and grabbed the light switch which dangled from the ceiling. More light, and this time, it glinted off something on the floor, in the corner.
“Got ya,” Heather said.
The Goose’s Egg sat in the corner, nestled on a pile of gym clothes or rags. She couldn’t tell the difference.
“Heather!” Amy yelled.
She spun on the spot, then froze.
Emily stood in the doorway. Her gaze darted past Heather to the golden nugget in the closet. “What? How?”
“Your brother stole it, Emily,” Heather replied. “He stole it, and he killed a man in the process.”
“No,” Emily replied. She stumbled back a step. “No, that’s not true.”
“I’m sorry,” Heather replied. “I have to call this in.”
Emily’s face crumpled. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she spun on her heel and darted from the room.
Heather brought her cell out of her front pocket, then held it for a second. She did have to call this in. Jabby Joe Potts had done the unthinkable. He had to pay.
Heather dialed her husband’s number, then placed the phone against her ear.
“Detective Shepherd,” he said.
“Hey, hon. I need you to come down to the Potts residence. There’s something you need to take a look at.”
Chapter 13
Heather sat across from Eva Schneider at her favorite table in Donut Delights and crossed her ankles.
“What’s the matter, dear?” Eva asked, and spread her newspaper on the table. She took a sip of her bitter coffee and placed it beside the central plate of Oreo Sprinkled Donuts. “The paper says you did a fantastic job.”
Heather Shepherd was headline news. The first time in her entire sleuthing career.
“It doesn’t feel right.”
“The fame?” Eva asked. She tapped the picture of Heather and her husband, beside the Potts household. “It was bound to happen. Besides, the recovery of the Goose’s Egg is a big deal for Hillside.”
“I know,” Heather said. “But it still – ugh, I don’t know how to put it.” Heather glanced up at the counter, and Maricela grinned back at her and gave her a thumbs up.
Happiness hummed through the store. Plates clinked, coffee cups steamed and the fresh aroma of fall pumpkin spiced lattes wafted on the air. But it still wasn’t right.
Ryan had arrested Jabby Joe Potts. Emily had cried, hysterically. And the Goose’s Egg had been taken into evidence.
“Something doesn’t add up. I know for sure that Jabby stole the Egg, but I still can’t connect the murder with the theft. What if they were separate? What if we’ve got the right guy for the wrong thing? Or the wrong guy for the wrong thing. I –”
The door to Donut Delights opened, and the bell tinkled overhead. Emily stepped into the interior of the store, then glanced around.
She hadn’t come in to work that morning, which suited Heather just fine. Not that she didn’t trust the woman, but Emily would need time off to deal with what had happened.
It was a tragedy.
“Emily,” Heather said. “What are you doing here?”
The young woman stammered. “I – am I fired? I’ll leave.”
“No, of course, you’re not fired. Please, come in, sit down.” Heather rose and grasped a chair from the table opposite then dragged it over to Eva’s. She pointed at the seat.
Emily hesitated, then met Eva’s gaze. “Hello,” she said.
“Oh, sorry. This is Eva Schneider. She’s one of my best friends. Eva, this is our newest assistant, Emily Potts.” Heather said.
Eva extended a hand, and Emily shook it. The elderly woman had the grace not to mention Emily’s brother right off the bat.
“Are you all right?” Heather asked. “Stupid question. Of course, you’re not all right. But how can I help you?”
Emily sat down, at last. “I just – Heather, I’m sorry. I had no idea that Jabby had stolen that or that he’d, you know. I can’t even say it. I can’t imagine my brother doing something that horrible.”
“Have a donut, dear,” Eva said and pushed the plate of treats toward the newest Donut Delights assistant.
“Thank you,” Emily replied. She took one, then picked off the Oreo Sprinkles and crunched them between her teeth.
“No one can predict something like this,” Heather said.
“I feel like I should have,” Emily replied. “Look, Joe’s got a history of this kind of thing. I mean, not the murder, but stealing. He’s never been all there. He has, but he hasn’t.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Heather said.
Emily sighed and ran her hand over the top of her head. “I’ve caught him stealing small stuff before. But I never thought anything of it. We lost our parents when we were very young. Ever since then, it’s been Joe and me against the world. Kind of. Joe’s sometimes against me too.”
Heather nodded. Eva slurped more of her black coffee.
“Joe doesn’t know his strength. He’s hurt me before, during one of our arguments. I’ve been the one in charge for a long time, but he never wants me to be. In his mind, every decision I’ve made is his. He hated that we came to Hillside in the first place.”
“May I ask a question? Another one, I mean,” Heather said, and flashed a small grin.
“Sure,” Emily said and took a bite of her donut.
“Why do you call him Jabby Joe?”
“Oh, that? That’s his nickname from middle school. He used to run around jabbing everyone in the back of the head. We could never figure out why, but the name kinda stuck,” Emily said.
Silence spread between them and Heather took a sip of
her water to bury her discomfort. It didn’t work.
“Emily,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. If he did this, then he has to pay for it,” Emily replied. “For the longest time, my brother has been the only family I’ve had. He’s been a pain in the neck and my only support. But, if I’m honest,” Emily said, then bit her lip and shook her head.
“You can tell us, dear,” Eva said and placed her cup on the table. “We won’t judge you.”
Emily sighed. “If I’m honest, life will be a lot easier without Joe in the picture. That sounds horrific, I know, but Heather, you don’t understand. I’ve looked after him for years and dealt with adult tantrums and strange occurrences, and upheavals. Complaints. The once, he chased an old woman down the road because he thought she had his marble.”
Heather patted the young woman on her arm, then shut her eyes for a second. Everyone had their path to walk in life. Perhaps, this was Emily’s.
“Thank you for telling me all of this, Ems,” Heather said and opened her eyes.
“I – I don’t know what else to say. Maybe this feeling makes me a horrible person,” Emily replied.
“No,” Heather said. “It doesn’t. And I want you to know that you’re always welcome here. Donut Delights will be your home away from home in no time.”
“Thank you,” Emily said, and her smile spoke of real gratitude.
“But please, feel free to take some time off to get back on your feet,” Heather said.
“No, I’m ready to start work again. I don’t want to sit home, all alone, and think about… everything.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Heather replied, then gestured to the store. “This place has become my sanctuary.”
“And mine,” Eva said, then returned to her newspaper.
Heather’s somber expression stuck out in black and white, on the front page.
Hillside’s Newest Private Investigator Solves the Case of The Missing Goose’s Egg.
Had she really? She’d caught the thief, but the murder – ugh, she wasn’t as sure.
Luckily, she had work to distract herself from the niggling doubt which had taken a seat in the back of her mind.
Chapter 14
“Heather?” Amy knocked on the open door of the office in Donut Delights, then entered. “You got a minute?”
“I’ve got several,” Heather said. “None of them are free, though.”
“Ah, the height of comedic genius,” Amy said. “You’re giving me a run for my money, Shepherd. I’m the joker in the crew.”
“The crew?” Heather’s lips twitched upward at the corners. “Is that what we are.”
“Sure,” Amy said. “We’re the donut crew. Bakers by day, heroes by night. Let’s face it. There’s no difference between the two.”
Heather closed her emails and the long list of orders from the online store, then placed her hands on her desk pad and met her bestie’s gaze. “What’s up?” She asked.
“You’ll never guess who was just in here,” Amy said.
“Who?”
“Guess.” Amy stuck out her tongue. “Just kidding. Kerry Boddington. She left a note for you, then rushed out.”
Heather frowned and rose from her seat. The leather squeaked from the movement, and she strode around to the other side of the desk. “Kerry Boddington.”
“That’s right,” Amy replied, and held out a crumpled piece of paper.
“You saw her?”
“Yeah, she gave it to me herself. She looked super freaked out too. It kind gave me the creeps. She was all pale and sweaty.” Amy grimaced, then folded her arms. “I couldn’t get a straight answer out of her either.”
“What do you mean?”
“She told me to give this to you, and then she loped out of the store and down the road. Honestly, she looked like someone was after her.” Amy shivered and rubbed her arms.
“Are you being paranoid again?” Heather asked, then opened the paper and smoothed out the wrinkles.
“What does it say?”
“Meet me at Dos Chicos in a half an hour,” Heather said, out loud. She hummed a tune under her breath – Morning Has Broken by Cat Stevens.
“I would,” Amy replied, “but I’m pretty slammed at work.”
Heather swatted her bestie on the arm, then moved past her to the door. “I wonder what she wants?” Nerves erupted in Heather’s stomach and swirled around in circles. Butterflies on trampolines in astronaut helmets.
They collided with the lining of her stomach.
“No idea,” Amy said.
“It’s got to do with the case. I just know it.”
Amy frowned at her bestie. “But the case is closed. You caught the thief-murderer guy. The marble man. Wow, now that’s the perfect villain name for him. Marble Man. Kind of like –”
“Amy,” Heather said, and her warning tone cut her friend off. “This isn’t over. I feel it in my gut. I know that Joe stole the egg, but the murder? It’s never matched up, and that worries me.”
“So what are you going to do?” Amy asked. “The cops have already shut down the file or whatever it is they do.”
“I’m going to Dos Chicos,” Heather replied. “Can you hold down the fort?”
“I can hold down the castle, honey.” Ames clicked her fingers and pointed at Heather. “But you had better be careful. I don’t like the sound of any of this.”
“I’ll be fine.” Heather clapped her friend on the back, then hurried to the office door.
She strode into the store and wound between the tables. Her heart beat a mile a minute, and her thoughts raced at lightning speed. What on earth did Kerry Boddington want?
She hadn’t seen the widow since the day they’d first interviewed her. Heather stepped out into the sunny morning and picked at her sweater. She’d forgotten to grab her coat on the way out, and the fall breeze nipped right through the knit weave.
She hurried to her car, unlocked it, then got in.
“All right, Kerry. Let’s hear your story.”
Ten minutes later, Heather stood within the entrance of her favorite Mexican restaurant. The newly installed stage was empty of a band. Empty booths greeted her. A single man sat at a table in the corner.
No Kerry Boddington. No women at all. Weird.
“May I help you, ma’am?” A waitress asked, and stepped forward.
“I was supposed to meet someone here. Have you seen –?”
“Mrs. Shepherd,” a woman said, behind her. “Just the woman I wanted to run into.”
Heather’s guts twisted into a knot, then loosened again. She wouldn’t let her anxiety get the better of her. She turned on the spot and nodded a greeting to Sara Hines.
“Hello, Sara,” she said.
“That’s Miss Hines to you,” the woman replied. She flipped back her bright, red hair, then shook it out.
“Right,” Heather said.
The waitress’ jaw dropped. She took two steps back, then turned and hurried off toward the only full table in the place.
“And how may I help you, today, Miss Hines?” Where on earth was Kerry Boddington? Amy wouldn’t have lied about the note. If she said Kerry had asked to meet Heather, then she had.
But Sara’s appearance couldn’t be a coincidence.
“You arrested the thief of the Goose’s Egg. Correct?” Hines asked, and folded her pale, skinny arms.
“No. That is technically incorrect. I helped catch him, but I don’t have the authority to arrest anyone.”
“Whatever. You know what I mean.”
Heather tapped her heel. Rudeness, again. The quality of conversation in Hillside had taken a serious down swerve in recent months.
“You know, by arresting him, you’ve compromised the Goose’s Egg? That is probably the most valuable item in the entirety of the state. And now, it’s locked up in an obscure evidence room in an even more obscure town.” Hines tapped her fingers on her forearms. “Who’s to blame for that?”
“What are you even talking about, right now?” Heather asked. And for the second time in a week, anger coursed through her. How dare this woman call Hillside obscure? How dare she question the legal practices of the police department?
“Now, the Goose’s Egg won’t be on display,” Sara said and narrowed her eyes. “Thanks, Heather.”
“Miss Hines, it’s intriguing that you’re so interested in the fate of the Goose’s Egg. You own a jewelry store, correct?”
“What’s that got to – why?”
“I heard that you’re having some financial trouble. Is that true?” Heather asked though she hadn’t heard any such thing.
The clearance sale signs had spoken for themselves.
Sara Hines drew herself up straight. “I – how dare you? I would be never. I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but –”
“What did you really want to discuss with Henry Boddington, before his death?” Heather asked, coldly.
Sara reached into her purse and brought out a blister pack of aspirins. She popped two into her palm, then threw them into her mouth and crunched them between her teeth. “This conversation is over,” she said, then turned on her heel and marched out.
A lightbulb clicked on in Heather’s brain. “Meds!” She yelped.
The waitress at the table jumped, and water splashed out of the glass in her hand.
The cops might’ve closed the case, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get it reopened. Heather turned and sprinted out of Dos Chicos.
Chapter 15
Heather paced back and forth in her bedroom and pressed the phone to her ear. Heat emanated from the device, but she didn’t shift it. She’d phoned Doctor Williams an hour ago, but he hadn’t been at the practice.
“What’s going on?” Ryan asked, and checked his watch. “I’ve got to get back to the station, love.” He shifted on the bed and frowned at her. “And you have to pick up Lilly from Eva’s in a half hour.”
“I have to get hold of the doctor,” Heather said.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Ryan lurched off the bed and hurried to her side. “Are you ill?”
“No, I’m not ill. I just realized something today, and I need to follow up on it.” She’d managed to beg the doc’s private number from one of the receptionists. She’d had to use her police connections to pull that off.
Oreo Sprinkled Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 22 Page 5
