Killer Crullers

by Jessica Beck

* * *

  We were rushed with our new schedule, and I knew it would take some getting used to, but ultimately it would be worth it.

  I looked over the finished donuts sitting in their cases, missing only the raised apple ones I’d tried to make, unsuccessfully. The moisture content of the apple bits had most likely been too much for the dough to handle, but I wasn’t going to give up. Maybe next time they’d be perfect. I still had plenty of things to offer to the world today, though. I was often tempted to take a photograph of my display case, but I wasn’t at all sure what I would do with it once it was taken. On a whim, I got my camera out of my jacket where I’d stowed it the day before to get some shots of the trees in the park. I took a few shots of the display cases, and Emma caught me doing it.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “I just wanted something for my scrapbook,” I said, hoping the conversation was over.

  “You scrapbook? You should talk to my mother. She loves scrapbooking.”

  “I meant to say if I ever decide to get around to making one,” I said. I glanced at the clock and saw that we had a full ninety seconds before it was time to open.

  Standing in front of the shop, his hands in his pockets and a hat pulled low over his face, I spotted George.

  “I’ll let him in, and you can get started on the dishes.”

  Emma smiled. “That’s me. I get all the glamorous jobs around here.”

  “We could switch, if you’d like,” I said, knowing full well that Emma was much more comfortable in back than she was waiting on customers up front.

  “No, thanks. It’s all yours.”

  “Come on in,” I told George as I opened the door. “You look chilly.”

  “No, I’m fine,” he said as he rubbed his hands together. “When did you start opening up at six instead of five?”

  “This morning’s our first day,” I admitted. “I should have taken an ad out in the paper to announce our new hours.”

  “Folks will learn the new routine soon enough,” he said.

  “Coffee?” I offered, already knowing the answer.

  “Yes, ma’am, please,” George said.

  “And a donut, too?”

  “I’ve never said no to one in the past, have I?”

  “I’ve got a hunch you won’t start now. By the way, they’re on the house.”

  He frowned. “Suzanne, just because I’m retired doesn’t mean I can’t afford to buy my own coffee and donuts.”

  I grinned at him. “Actually, I was hoping you’d be willing to work on Desmond Ray’s murder case with me. The coffee and donuts are your salary.”

  He nodded. “That’s excellent news. How about Grace? Will she be working with us?”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that we’d already started digging into it. “Absolutely, she’s on board.”

  “And Jake?” George asked, clearly hoping that my state police investigator boyfriend was going to be helping us, as well.

  “Not this time, at least not yet. If we need him, though, I’m sure we can ask for a hand.”

  “Good enough,” George said as he took a big bite of donut. “You know something? These things taste even better when they’re on the house.”

  “You’re not freeloading; we’re bartering your time and talent for mine.”

  “I like that even better,” he said as he took a sip of coffee. “So, where should we get started?”

  I couldn’t leave him in the dark any longer. “Grace and I have already been doing some preliminary work. We’ve come up with four names, and I was hoping we could split them down the middle with you.”

  George took out his small notebook, much like the ones Jake and Chief Martin carried with them, and then said, “I’m ready.”

  “So far, we’ve been able to discover that Katie Wilkes, Allen Davis, Jenny Ray, and Bill Rodgers might have motives to want to see Desmond dead. Talbot’s Landing seems to figure into some of it, so that might be a good place to start.”

  “I’m surprised,” George said as he looked at the names.

  “By how well we did?” I asked.

  “More like the two you left off,” he replied.

  “Tell me who we missed,” I said.

  “One has to be Jean Ray, and the other Gabby Williams. Whether we like it or not, we have to keep them in mind.”

  “I understand that,” I said. “They’re on our list, too, but we know where we can find them.”

  George nodded. “Now, tell me about the four I don’t know.”

  “Katie was Desmond’s ex-girlfriend, Allen was his ex-best friend, Bill was his ex-business partner, and Jenny is his cousin, who happens to be working his old job now at Jean’s place helping her out.”

  “Looks like there are some possible reasons for murder there,” George said. “Any way you’d like to divide this list up?”

  “I was kind of hoping you’d be able to dig into all of their lives a little so we can find out where they are, and what their stories are. I don’t mean that you should confront any of them directly, or even speak to them yet. Are we clear about that, George?” I was being pretty demanding since one time when I’d asked George for his active help, he almost hadn’t survived a confrontation with a killer. Surgeries, rehab, and a cane all reminded me of how close I’d come to losing him, and it was just recently that his limp had finally begun to fade away.

  “Got it. I can do some digging, and they won’t even know I was investigating them.”

  “Just how are you going to manage that?” I asked as three customers walked in.

  “With my computer,” he said as I walked over to the new customers.

  “Hey, where have you been?” one of them asked. “We were here an hour ago for donuts, and no one was here.”

  “I was in back making them,” I said. “What can I get you, gents?”

  “Your store hours might be nice,” he said.

  I pointed to the window. “Six to eleven,” I said. “Now, are we talking, or are we getting donuts and coffee?”

  One of the other men said, “I vote donuts.”

  “I second it,” the third man said, “and don’t forget the coffee.”

  “Looks like you’re outvoted,” I said to the man who’d protested our new hours. “Tell you what I’ll do. For the trouble, I’ll throw three glazed donuts onto your order, on the house.”

  “Three apiece?” one of them asked with a smile.

  I returned his grin. “One per customer, and the offer’s only good for another ten seconds. Nine, eight, seven—”

  “Sold,” the first customer said.

  “I’ll see you at eleven,” George said as he walked out of the shop.

  I hoped he kept his word. I knew there was a good chance that someone on our list was a killer, and it wouldn’t do to make any wrong moves, at least until we had a better idea of who exactly we were dealing with.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Good morning, ladies,” I said with a smile as Terri Milner and Sandy White walked into the donut shop around nine. “Are the kids in school?”

  “Oh, yes,” Terri said, her relief obvious. “I dearly love my twins, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that school is a lovely diversion.”

  “I feel guilty. I have just one son,” Sandy said.

  Terri smiled at her best friend. “Let’s just say we both deserve a break and leave it at that.”

  “You should bring them by soon,” I said. “I’m planning to start making my pumpkin surprises any day, and I know they all love them.”

  “You don’t have to tell us,” Terri said. “There’s a half-day next Friday, so we’ll bring them by at eleven-thirty. Save a few for us.”

  “I’m sorry, but I won’t be open then,” I admitted.

  “You’re closing the donut shop?” Terri said loudly enough to get attention I didn’t want. “I’ll hate to see this place go.”

  “I’m not closing down,” I said, louder than I needed to. “I’m just shortening
my store hours so I can have a little bit of a life for myself.” Louder again this time, I said, “No worries. Donut Hearts is doing great! As far as I’m concerned, we’ll be here forever.”

  That seemed to satisfy the folks in the shop, and when I turned back to Terri, she said, “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to shout. I just can’t imagine my life without your donuts in it. Tell you what. I’ll bring the girls in on Saturday. Will you have them then?”

  “I’ll make them specially for you all,” I said.

  “We’ll be here, too,” Sandy said. “Who knows? If our husbands are lucky, we’ll let them come, too.”

  I loved being around them both, and was glad that they’d adopted my donut shop as one of their favorite places. “The more the merrier. Now, what can I get you today?”

  “Two coffees, and two glazed donuts,” Terri said.

  “I’ll have the same,” Sandy added with a grin.

  “I was ordering for both of us, you big goof.”

  “In that case, cancel my order,” Sandy said.

  Terri looked at her friend oddly. “You did know what I was doing, right?”

  “Now who’s being the big goof? Of course I did.”

  After I served them, they took their favorite sofa by the window that looked out on the old railroad tracks, and Trish’s Boxcar Grille Diner. There was a touch of fog in the air, and as I glanced out the window myself, it almost appeared as though the car on rails might actually be moving. It was just one more reason I loved my old depot, and couldn’t imagine ever giving it up for anything.

  Twenty minutes later, the front door opened, but instead of a new donut customer, it was James Settle, the ironworker and blacksmith who was intent on destroying part of our town’s heritage. I had to move him to the front of my to-do list and find a way to stop him from tearing up our tracks even as I worked to solve Desmond Ray’s murder.

  “You think you’re cute, don’t you?” Settle said angrily as he approached me.

  “Well, I’d never say that I was beautiful, but I believe cute is fairly accurate.” I turned to the two mothers and asked, “What do you think? Am I overreaching?”

  “No,” Sandy said. “I think cute is right on the money. Terri?”

  “Definitely,” she said. “I’ve always thought that about you.”

  “That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Settle said.

  I frowned at him, pretending to be upset. “So, you don’t think I’m cute? That’s not very nice, is it?”

  He shook his head. “Blast it, woman, that’s not what I mean, and you know it. How did you do it? Did you pay off that old fossil to keep him from issuing my permit? How many donuts did it cost you, or did you trade him something else?”

  “Be careful, Mr. Settle,” I said as I grabbed the nearest weapon I could find, a pot full of scalding hot coffee. “I don’t appreciate your tone of voice, or the implication of your accusation.”

  He looked mad enough to spit nails for a moment, and then held up his hands. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I was completely out of line. I apologize.”

  I certainly hadn’t expected that. “Could I get you a cup of coffee?”

  “To wear, or to drink?” he asked, a slight twinkle in his eye now.

  “That all depends on your mood and your attitude,” I said.

  He looked at me for a few seconds, and then said, “Why not? I promise to be good.”

  I poured him a cup, and he slid his payment to me as he said, “I don’t know why you’re so attached to those rails anyway,” he said. “You can’t even see them under the grass and the weeds, and I could really use them.”

  “I know they’re there, and that’s enough for me. They can’t be the only old tracks you can use. Leave ours alone.”

  “Sorry, but I can’t do that,” he said. In a calm voice, he said, “You might have slowed me down, but you haven’t stopped me. I’m driving to Raleigh to get that permit, so I doubt they can claim they’re out of them there.”

  I’d thought about that yesterday and had called Henry to see if Settle could do just that. I smiled at him as I said, “I’ll save you a trip. The permits can only be issued to an approved and duly appointed registrant with their office.”

  He didn’t look at all surprised to hear it. “So, you did have something to do with it. How else would you know that particular fact?”

  He had me there, but I was going to ride the bluff as long as I could do it with a straight face. “You’d be amazed by what you can learn working behind the counter at a donut shop. I’m just full of trivial and useless information.”

  He took a sip of coffee, and then said, “It wasn’t exactly useless this time, though, was it?”

  I did my best to look innocent, but I had a feeling I was falling far short of my goal, so all I could do was trust myself to shrug in reply.

  “Thanks for the coffee,” he said as he finished it and slid the empty mug toward me. “I’m sure I’ll see you around. I’m not going anywhere.”

  I was afraid of just that. “Come again,” I said.

  As soon as he was gone, Terri came over. “What was that all about?”

  “It’s nothing,” I said.

  “Suzanne Hart, I know nothing when I see it. Spill.”

  I brought her up to speed, and she nodded as I finished telling her about it. “I’ll talk to my husband about it.”

  I knew that Terri’s spouse was an accountant, hardly someone schooled in ways of handling situations like this. “You don’t have to bother. Really.”

  She shrugged. “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” Terri looked behind me and said, “I think we’ll take one of those crullers, too. Sandy and I can split it.”

  I managed to hide my surprise and served her the lightly glazed cruller. I’d almost skipped making them since the incident with Desmond, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, given the fact that I had customers who adored them. I made two types, one light and airy, and the other dark and dense. They played well off each other, and I hoped someday I’d be able to look at them again without flinching.

  * * *

  It was nearly eleven, and I had seven customers still in the donut shop. I considered staying open since I hated to turn people out onto the street, but I knew if I didn’t stand firm, I’d end up back to my old schedule soon enough, and I wasn’t prepared to do that. “Last call,” I said as I walked from customer to customer with the coffeepot.

  “I can’t believe you’re chucking us out,” Billy Richmond said. Billy—a tall thin man with a full beard and unruly ash-blond hair—worked a midnight-to-eight A.M. shift, and he was too wired up when he got off work to go straight home, so he usually ran some errands, and then came by the shop before going home to bed at noon. I was sympathetic, since I had crazy hours of my own, but I wasn’t about to let him talk me into staying open.

  “Believe it,” I said with a grin. “More coffee?”

  “No,” he said, answering my smile with one of his own. “It would just keep me awake all day.”

  After everyone was gone, Emma walked out front. “I wasn’t sure you’d have the heart to do it,” she said.

  “I’m not about to give up an hour of newfound freedom,” I said. “How do things look in back? Have you started cleaning yet?”

  “I’m nearly finished, as a matter of fact. Now I’m just waiting for the trays out here,” she said. We boxed the remaining donuts, less than three dozen in all, which was a good thing. After setting them aside, Emma took the trays, and I carried the rest of the dirty dishes to the back. While she was cleaning up there, I ran our reports, balanced the register, made out the deposit, and then started sweeping the floor out front. By eleven-fifteen, we were walking out the door together, and I was suddenly loving our new store hours.

  I was at my Jeep when I heard a car horn.

  Grace and George were in her company car, and both of them were waving to me.

  It appeared that my team was ready and eager to get s
tarted on our case.

  * * *

  “Are those for me?” George said as he pointed to the boxed donuts in my hands. I’d slid into the backseat and kept the donuts in my lap.

  “In a way. I thought we might use them to get close to our suspects.”

  Grace laughed. “I love it. Suzanne, you’re lucky you don’t make chain saws. They’d be a little tougher to give away.”

  “Who doesn’t love donuts?” I asked. I looked at George and asked, “Were you able to find anything out?”

  “You bet,” he said as he pulled out his notebook. “You were right. Katie Wilkes lives in Talbot’s Landing, and so does Allen Davis. As a matter of fact, the two of them both work at the same place.”

  “That might make it tough to interview them separately,” I said. “We don’t want them conspiring, do we?”

  “That’s not going to be a problem,” George said. “Davis is off today, and you can probably find him at Strike Out when you get to town.”

  “What is that?” Grace asked.

  “It’s a bowling alley,” George explained.

  I couldn’t believe the detailed information he’d gathered, and I began to suspect that George had done some personal interviews without my blessing. “Hang on a second. I can see how you might be able to discover that two of our suspects work together, but how on earth could you possibly know that Allen Davis is bowling?”

  “Would you believe that I used my cop’s instincts and made a guess based on my years on the police force and my intense knowledge about the human condition?” George asked with a grin.

  “Not a chance. Spill.”

  He replied, “It was easy. I Googled them both, and I found their FacePlace pages. Allen was crowing about going bowling today on his day off. Tell me something, ladies. Why do people feel the need to report their every movement to the world on the Internet for everyone to see? No one’s life is that interesting, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “It is to them,” I said. “Emma’s been after me to have a Web presence, as she calls it, for our donut shop, but I don’t want to get wrapped up in it. We’re doing fine as it is.”

  Grace said, “It can be a useful tool in sales. My company’s starting to get into it.”