Floured Felonies (The Donut Mysteries Book 27)

by Jessica Beck

  “That’s why I said things must have gotten out of hand,” Gwen said after sipping her coffee.

  “Who exactly are these people?” I asked her. I needed something to take to the police chief, something more substantial than Gwen’s story so far.

  “I don’t know,” she said, glancing back once again over her shoulder.

  “You don’t know, or you won’t say?” I asked her.

  “Suzanne, I’m already in enough danger as it is without blabbing more of it to you.”

  “I get that,” I said as I saw a few customers approaching. “The real question is, why are you really here if you truly are putting your own life at risk?”

  “I couldn’t just see you walk into this blindly.” She glanced back again and saw the men approaching. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Relax, they’re regulars here,” I said, doing my best to reassure her.

  It didn’t work.

  “No thank you. I’m getting out of town,” she said, “and I’m not coming back until this thing is resolved, one way or another.”

  “What about your job?”

  “It’s not worth more than my life to me. Besides, I was looking for this one when I found it, so I’m sure I’ll be able to find something else without too much trouble. I’ve got some vacation time saved up that I’m about to take on the spur of the moment, and if I run out of that, then I’ll find something else to do. No job is worth dying over, certainly not mine.”

  “Suzanne, it’s colder than a well-digger’s nose out there right now,” Ashton Sinclair said as he rubbed his hands together after stepping into the donut shop.

  “I’ll be with you in a second,” I said, and then I turned back to Gwen, but she was already on her way out the door.

  “Sorry if I scared her off,” Ashton said with a grin. “I seem to have that effect on young women.”

  “Old ones, too,” Jefferson Branch said as he joined his old friend.

  “True enough,” Ashton replied with a smile.

  As they ordered donuts and coffee, I wondered what had sparked Gwen’s self-professed humanitarian act coming to warn me that I might be in danger. Had she been telling the truth, or was it all a ruse to get me to drop my investigation into her relationship with Greg? It would be nice to verify her story, but the only person I knew I could ask was Benny Young. Hopefully he’d be at the bank later when Grace and I made our way back there with Momma’s check. Either way, Gwen had just taken herself out of the mix of folks we could interview by leaving town. I decided as soon as I finished filling the men’s orders, I needed to call Chief Grant and update him about what had just happened.

  “Hey, it’s Suzanne,” I said when he picked up.

  “How’s my favorite donut maker in the world?” he asked me. The man was in a good mood, but I didn’t have time to stop and ask him why.

  “Thanks, but I’m probably the only donut maker in the world you know, so I’ll take that with a grain of salt. Gwen West just came by the donut shop.”

  “Greg’s girlfriend? She’s a long way from home this early, isn’t she?”

  “She’s about to be a great deal farther,” I said. I repeated our conversation, and the chief hesitated before answering. “How long ago did she leave?” he asked me.

  “Two minutes,” I said.

  “It’s a shame you didn’t call me while she was still there,” he said.

  “I had a hunch she wouldn’t just stand around here waiting for you. Do you believe her, Chief?”

  “Let’s just say that I have no reason not to believe her at this point,” he said. “I spoke with her yesterday, and she didn’t say a word about any of this to me then.”

  “Don’t feel like the Lone Ranger. She’s just coming clean with me now as well.”

  “Be that as it may, I’ll look into it. Thanks for calling.”

  “You bet,” I said. “I’m just trying to keep up my end of the bargain.”

  “I appreciate that. Listen, I’ve got to go,” he said, and then he hung up on me abruptly.

  I wondered what had pulled him away so suddenly. There was no way to know, since he hadn’t felt like sharing, so I did what I do best: I got back to selling donuts and coffee, with a little hot chocolate thrown in every now and then. For the moment, Gwen was Chief Grant’s problem, along with the investigation into what had really happened to Greg Whitmore.

  “Hey, Suzanne,” Roy Olsen, my insurance man, said when he came into the donut shop a little later. Roy was a tall, willowy man ten years my senior, but at the moment, he looked old enough to be my father.

  “Are you getting any sleep at all, Roy?” I asked him sympathetically.

  “No, and not much prospect of any in the future.” He surveyed the damage from the inside, and then he asked, “You’ve got pictures of all of this before anyone did any work, right?”

  “Yes, they’re on my phone,” I said. “Hang on.” I went back and got Emma, who was just finishing up a batch of dishes. “Can you catch the front for me for a few minutes? Roy Olsen is here.”

  “Absolutely,” she said.

  After Emma was at the helm, I joined Roy at the site of the worst damage we’d sustained. I pulled out my phone and started swiping through the photos. He nodded, stopped me a few times and had me back up, and then he smiled softly. “You’d be amazed at how many people don’t document things at all before they start mucking them up.”

  I surveyed the hasty repairs my friends had done and did my best not to take offense at his comment. “I don’t know. For being done at the spur of the moment, I think they did a pretty good job.”

  “I didn’t mean that how it must have sounded,” he said apologetically. “Sorry. When I’m sleep deprived, I’m not the sweetest guy in the world. At least that’s what my wife tells me.” He looked around. “Where is the furniture?”

  “George took it to City Hall to try to dry it, but it turns out that it’s all ruined,” I said. The mayor had left me a message on my machine that morning, and it hadn’t done anything to help my mood starting off my workday. “I’m honestly more concerned about the building itself right now.”

  “No worries, we’ll take care of as much of it as we can. I’ll need three bids before you get the work done. Do you have anyone you’d like to use?”

  “No one springs to mind,” I said. I would have trusted the job to Tim Leander, but he was long gone.

  “I’m sure your mother has someone good,” he said absently. “Go on and get me those estimates, and I’ll expedite things for you as much as I can.”

  “I appreciate that,” I said, feeling sympathy for the man. The job was going to kill him if he didn’t find a way to start taking it easy. “Can I get you something before you go? A donut or two? Maybe some coffee?”

  He shuddered at the mention of coffee. “If I have another cup, I think I’ll probably scream.”

  “Hot cocoa, then?”

  “Sold. I wouldn’t say no to a fritter, either.”

  “Luckily, you came to the right place,” I said with a smile. After I set him up, he tried to pay, but I wouldn’t let him. “No worries. It’s on the house.”

  “I can’t do that,” he said as he counted out the money and handed it to Emma, who took it after glancing at me and seeing me nod my head in agreement.

  “Are you kidding? You should have come by yesterday. We were giving everything in the shop away after the ice storm. We couldn’t make donuts fast enough.”

  Roy frowned. “You’re not claiming any of that as a loss, are you?”

  “No, sir, I’d never do that,” I said, looking him steadily in the eye. “Momma paid for the supplies, and the labor and delivery services were both provided free of charge. We decided to help out our community in its time of need. We had no intention of making
a profit because of other people’s misery.”

  “I’ve done it again, haven’t I?” Roy asked, feeling embarrassed about his earlier behavior. “Sorry again. I’m just tired.”

  “No worries. I won’t tell anyone if you won’t,” I said with a smile. “Now, is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “Please don’t tell your mother how I behaved. If I lost her business, I’d have to shut the place down.”

  “We’re all good, Roy.”

  “Would you mind forwarding those pictures to my number? I’ll print them out and put them in your file.”

  “Happy to do it,” I said as I performed the task before I forgot to do it later. It was a modern convenience that I was happy with, and I couldn’t count the times I’d used my cell phone to take pictures of things I wanted to document. I thought about the pictures I’d taken of Greg in the park, and I knew that I needed to forward them to the police chief, but he had photos of his own, so there was no hurry. I needed to look over them again myself, since I now knew that Greg had been murdered instead of just freezing to death, but again, there just wasn’t time at that moment.

  Once Roy was gone, I stared at the repairs my friends had made for me. I knew that I’d have to get it all fixed, and sooner rather than later, but I had something far more important on my mind at the moment.

  Once Greg’s killer was caught and Jake was home again, I could focus on repairing my beloved donut shop.

  In the meantime, the patches would just have to do.

  After Roy left, I sent Emma back to the kitchen, and during a lull, I looked around at the folding chairs that made up my dining area. I would have to do something about that, since the roof was watertight again. The uniqueness of my current situation would wear off soon enough, and if I didn’t, or couldn’t, provide comfy places for my customers to sit and enjoy their treats, and soon, I was going to start losing business.

  Chapter 15

  “Suzanne, this place is tragic. Are we still having our book club meeting here today?” Jennifer asked me as she walked in with Hazel and Elizabeth close on her heels. The women were some of my best friends and the complete and sum total of our monthly book club group. They’d come into Donut Hearts once long ago to hold their meeting after their regular venue was unavailable, and they’d taken me in and made me feel special from the very start, even though their social and economic strata were miles and miles above mine.

  “We can still have it, if you all don’t mind sitting on folding chairs,” I explained.

  Jennifer looked at the chairs in question as the other ladies stood beside her, and then she frowned as she considered the only option available to us. With a voice heavy with sadness, she finally said, “I’m sorry, Suzanne, but this just won’t do.”

  “Honestly, it’s the best I have to offer, but I completely understand if you want to cancel this month’s meeting,” I said, apologizing as quickly as I could. “You see, we had an ice storm in town yesterday, and all of my furniture was ruined in the process.”

  “Stop teasing her, Jennifer,” Hazel said, chiding our leader. “It’s not nice.”

  “No, but it’s fun,” Elizabeth added with a smile.

  “Well, I can tell you that it’s not that fun for me,” I said with a frown. They were usually so much nicer to me. What was going on here?

  “Suzanne, I’m sorry. I was just trying to amuse you. The fact is that we heard about your plight yesterday afternoon,” Jennifer explained.

  “How could you have possibly heard about what happened here that quickly?”

  “Let’s just say that a little bird told us and leave it at that,” the book club leader said with a smile.

  I had a hunch the little bird in question was washing dishes in back, and I was going to have a word with her later, after everyone was gone. “Like I said, I’m sorry about the arrangements. If you all want to cancel, I completely get it.”

  “Jennifer, you need to tell them to come in right now, or I will,” Hazel insisted. “This has gone on far enough.”

  “You’re right,” she said as she waved a hand out the door and called out, “Let’s go.”

  “Who exactly are you inviting in?” I asked her, but no one would answer my question.

  The three women began gathering the folding chairs up and setting them off to one side as the front door opened and four burly men came in carrying two large couches between them. The sofas were absolutely lovely, and I knew in an instant they each cost more than I could ever hope to afford, even with my insurance settlement that I wasn’t going to get anytime soon. “What’s going on?”

  Jennifer explained, “My husband just bought another new company in Hickory that makes furniture. When we heard about your dilemma, I asked him for anything he had on hand that might be out of date, or patterns that didn’t work; I was basically asking for anything I could give to you.”

  “Wow, you make it sound so sweet and thoughtful when you put it that way,” Elizabeth said sarcastically.

  “I’m not handling this very well, am I?” she asked. “It’s all much better than I’ve represented it. I went through his inventory and pulled out some things I thought you might like, and voila, here they are.”

  I ran my hand over one of the couches, amazed by the softness of the fabric. “Jennifer, it’s a lovely gesture, but even with a steep discount, I’m sure I can’t afford these. I appreciate the thought, though.”

  “Dear woman, these are a gift, as well as the four chairs that are on their way too, or will be as soon as someone goes to fetch them as well.” She glanced at the men, who got the message and left hastily to retrieve the rest of the furniture.

  “I really couldn’t accept,” I said, stunned by her generosity.

  “Don’t worry about it; we all chipped in,” Hazel said.

  “If you’re dead set on refusing them as gifts, you can always pay us back by providing the treats whenever we meet,” Elizabeth offered.

  “Exactly how long do you expect our club is going to be getting together?” I asked her with a grin.

  “Long enough to make this a solid investment on our part. Please accept these items as tokens of our friendship and appreciation,” Jennifer said with a warm smile.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I said in one of those rare moments that I was actually struggling to find words to express the depth of my emotions.

  “Just say thank you,” Hazel suggested softly.

  “Thank you,” I said, echoing her sentiment.

  “You’re so very welcome,” Jennifer said. After the chairs were delivered, she looked them over and said, “There. That is so much better than folding chairs.”

  “It’s nicer than the furniture that’s in my house. I still can’t believe you all did this,” I said, sitting down on one of the chairs for a moment and feeling its gentle embrace. It was so comfortable that I wasn’t sure I was ever going to get up again.

  “That’s more than enough thanks,” Jennifer said matter-of-factly. “Now, are you ladies ready for our Secret Santa exchange?”

  “I know I am,” I said. I’d had the gift I’d gotten for Elizabeth wrapped and at the front counter for several days, waiting for the moment I could give it to her. Thank goodness it hadn’t been damaged when the tree had crashed into Donut Hearts.

  “There’s just one thing missing,” Jennifer said as she looked around the room again, and at that moment, the door opened once more as two of the men carried in a fully decorated Christmas tree. They set it up in the corner where the tree had hit the building the day before, virtually blocking my view of most of the damage to my structure. As one of the movers plugged the lights in, I was so touched by the gesture that I began to tear up. The others graciously pretended not to notice, and as I wiped the tears away, Emma came out, saw what was going on, and immedi
ately tried to turn on her heel and leave.

  “Not so fast, young lady,” I said as I walked toward her.

  “Before you say anything, just know that I was…”

  I stopped her from explaining or apologizing by embracing her with a hearty hug. “Thank you,” I whispered in her ear.

  “You’re very welcome,” she said, clearly relieved that I’d forgiven her breach of etiquette by contacting the book club ladies without my permission.

  “Now, if you’ll take the register, we have business to carry on,” I said as I winked at her.

  “I’m more than happy to do it,” she said. “Here’s the present you’ve been saving.”

  I took it from her and handed it to Elizabeth.

  “What’s this?” she asked as she began to unwrap it.

  “You tell me,” I said as I watched her rip into the paper like an excited child.

  Elizabeth looked at it, read the cover, and then started leafing through the pages, squealing with delight the entire time. “Where did you get this?” she asked, clasping it to her chest as though it were her most cherished possession.

  “I found it on eBay. Don’t worry, I stayed within our ten-dollar limit, though just barely.”

  “Don’t hog it, Elizabeth. What is it?” Hazel asked.

  “It’s the Mystery International Group’s email list,” she said with a grin. “I thought it was a myth, and I never dreamed that even if it did exist, I’d ever have my very own copy.”

  “You’ll have to tell us a little more than that,” Jennifer said.

  “This booklet contains the email addresses of nearly all of my favorite mystery writers. You all know how I love to correspond with the people who bring such joy to my life. I can’t believe this is mine.”