Pecan Nut Crunch Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 35

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Pecan Nut Crunch Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 35 Page 1

by Susan Gillard




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

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  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright 2017 by Guardian Publishing Group - All rights reserved.

  All rights Reserved. No part of this publication or the information in it may be quoted from or reproduced in any form by means such as printing, scanning, photocopying or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 1

  Heather rolled her high-backed office chair backward and folded her hands across her Donut Delights shirt. “I think it will be awesome,” she said.

  “I agree,” Amy said, from the high stool beside her. She’d dragged that into the office from behind the counter, and perched there like an eagle to oversee the joint venture meeting. “People will love it. I’m pretty sure we could speak to the members of the town council, and they’d totally support it. Bring in loads more of those tourists I’m always complaining about.”

  “I’ve never heard you complain about tourists,” Heather said and squinted up at her bestie.

  “I can start,” Ames replied.

  Col Owen brushed his fingertips across his smooth tan forehead. “I like it. But what do we call it?”

  The room fell silent, and all four occupants shared glances. They’d come this far in planning a festival, of sorts, but this detail had them stumped.

  “Tea You Soon for Donuts,” Col suggested.

  Amy mock gagged. “Kill me now,” she said, then winced. “Sorry.” To say there’d been a rash of recent murders in their usually sleepy Texan town was an understatement.

  Hillside had boomed – tourists and investors had elbowed their way into Heather’s beloved town and brought an economic boom, along with a scourge of unsavory types.

  Though, she couldn’t sum it up to just that, in all fairness.

  Mona Petrov chewed her bottom lip and twisted a lock of her luxurious black hair around her finger. “Let’s make it something simple. The 2017 Hillside Tea and Donut Fair,” she said.

  “I like that,” Heather said and nodded toward Col’s girlfriend. “I like it a lot.”

  “But if we put 2017 in there, that means we have to do it every year,” Amy said. “That’s quite a commitment.” She drummed a beat on the legs of her jeans. “Oh yeah, I can’t see myself performing in the 2030 Tea and Donut Fair.”

  “Performing?” Heather snorted. “Do I want to know what you mean by that?”

  “I’d say there’s a certain art to the glaze, Mrs. Shepherd,” Amy replied.

  Col laughed, and Mona frowned. They interchanged their reactions, then swapped back again. Their joint venture partners weren’t accustomed to Heather and Amy’s unique relationship just yet. They didn’t know how to react to the jokes and insults.

  “All right,” Col said and scribbled on his Steno pad. “We’re all agreed on the name?”

  “Yes,” Heather said.

  Mona clapped to express her enthusiasm.

  “Si,” Amy said, just to be different.

  “Great. That’s settled. But when are we going to host this fair, and where? I suppose we could use the high school field.”

  “Oh, imagine we got a marching band,” Amy said. “Like the High School marching band. We could have them –”

  The door to Heather’s office crashed open, and Kate Laverne marched into the room, bringing with her the scent of red velvet cupcakes and envy.

  Angelica followed hot on her heels. “Sorry, I cannot stop her. She just go right past,” she said. “I forget my rolling pin in the kitchen.”

  Col Owen’s jaw dropped. “Rolling pin?”

  “Don’t worry,” Amy said. “It’s just a joke.” She narrowed her eyes at the intruder, Miss Laverne. “For the most part.”

  “Heather Shepherd,” Kate said and lifted her index finger. The finger of doom on her tipped with a bright red fingernail to match the crimson pants suit and black trench coat the woman wore.

  “It’s all right, Angelica,” Heather said and smiled at her young assistant. “I’ll handle this. Please make sure there are no further interruptions.”

  Angelica did a mini-curtsy-bow hybrid, then backed out of the room, staring rolling pins at the back of Kate Laverne’s head. She clicked the office door shut.

  “Kate,” Heather said and didn’t rise from her seat. She wasn’t usually rude – she despised that more than any other negative form of behavior – but Laverne warranted it through and through.

  One ill turn for another.

  “I hear you’re planning something without me,” Laverne said, and strode forward another two steps on her crimson stilettos.

  Amy hummed Devil in Disguise by Elvis Presley.

  “Who is this woman?” Mona Petrov asked, and drew herself up straight as an ironing board.

  Col placed a hand on her knee to calm her.

  Kate Laverne’s gaze met Mona’s for the briefest moment. That was all it took for Laverne to dismiss her and focus on Heather once more. “You should know better than to try to hide this type of thing from me, Shepherd. The rumor mill in Hillside is fierce. It’s true. It’s –”

  “Insert evil adjective here,” Amy said.

  “You shut your mouth,” Kate growled and swung her finger of doom toward Heather’s bestie.

  “Enough,” Heather said, quietly. “You’ve intruded on my personal space, a space where you will never be welcome. An insult is one step further and far enough. State your objective, then leave, Laverne, or I’ll have you removed.”

  Mona sniffed her agreement.

  Kate Laverne deflated like a tire with a leak. She licked her crimson lips, hesitated, and then narrowed her eyes. “I know you’re going to do some big event. The whole town’s talking about all the meetings you’ve been having with this hippie,” she said, and jerked a thumb toward Col. “What’s happening.”

  “Hippie!” Col sat upright.

  Heather raised her palm and pushed it outward to maintain the peace. She didn’t remove her gaze from Laverne’s face, however. What a truly infuriating human being she’d turned out to be.

  Back in New York, Laverne had been a thorn in her side at best. In Hillside, she’d upgraded to a cactus. Several cacti fille
d with bitter fluid.

  “Kate, our business venture has nothing to do with you.”

  “It’s a festival of some kind, isn’t it?” Kate asked. Perceptive she was, tactful she was not.

  “It’s none of your business,” Col said.

  Kate ignored him too. Perhaps, she’d dismissed him as an unworthy adversary. “I want in on it,” she said.

  “Pardon?” Heather blinked.

  Amy’s jaw dropped.

  “I want in. You’re not hosting a food festival without my cupcakes,” she said.

  “No,” Col said, and Mona chimed in with him.

  “That’s two votes against you,” Heather said. “I hold the third.”

  “And I hold a quarter,” Amy said. “I vote no.”

  Heather channeled her inner Simon Cowell. “It’s going to be a no from me,” she said, in her best impersonation.

  “Oh good one,” Amy whispered.

  Kate Laverne huffed and puffed. Her cheeks reddened, her eyes bulged, and her heels tapped a beat on the wooden boards. “You’ll regret this,” she said. “I swear it on – on – my business.”

  And with that, Miss Laverne turned on her painfully tall stiletto heel and charged from Heather’s office.

  Chapter 2

  Heather sat on her stool behind the cash register and wriggled her nose from side-to-side. Something about today felt off. Donut sales were up, sure, and the Pecan Nut Crunch Donuts, her new creation, were a hit.

  She’d taught all the assistants how to make it early that morning.

  A delicious baked vanilla base, interspersed with hard bits of caramel, dipped in a caramel glaze and coated in pecan nuts. They’d sold themselves, and Heather and Maricela had spent the morning handing out Col Owen’s freebie vouchers for tea at his shop.

  “What’s the matter?” Amy asked, and plopped down in the stool next to Heather’s – the same she’d had in the office that morning.

  Ames had taken to sitting in on meetings. Heather trusted her opinion, as sarcastic as it could be, and Amy’s presence kept Heather clear and level headed. After all, only one of them could act like a good at any given time.

  The more Amy goofed, the less Heather could.

  “Hello? Heather?” Amy wiggled her hand in front of Heather’s nose. “Is this about ol’ crazy Kate? I hope you’re not letting that woman get to you.”

  Heather laughed and shook her head. “No. Kate doesn’t bother me. Her cupcake store doesn’t bother me, and her foul attitude… I’d be lying if I said that didn’t bother me, but that’s just because she’s a rude person. And you know how I feel about rude people,” she said.

  “Then what’s bothering you?” Amy asked.

  Heather pointed to Eva Schneider’s empty table. “Eva hasn’t come in to taste my new treat today,” she said and checked her filigree watch – a gift from her husband. “And it’s almost noon.”

  Amy’s brow wrinkled. “Okay, that is kind of weird.”

  Eva came in each morning with her Hillside Reporter. She’d never missed a day since Heather had opened Donut Delights, apart from the horrible few weeks she’d spent in a coma in Hillside Regional.

  Heather shuddered at the memory. She squished her phone out of her pocket. “I’m calling her house. I don’t like this, Ames. Eva wouldn’t stay away. She loves finding out the new donut flavor each week.”

  “Hey, but isn’t it library day today? She always gets her books on a Monday,” Amy said, and a tinge of hope entered her tone.

  “She wouldn’t hang around in the library for this long,” Heather replied. She scrolled through her contacts and tapped Eva’s name. She put the phone to her ear.

  One ring, two, three, and four. A click and a beep.

  “Hello, you’ve reached Mrs. Schneider. Please leave a message after the tone.” Eva’s sweet voice traveled down the line.

  It didn’t have its usual soothing effect on Heather.

  “She didn’t answer?” Amy asked. She hopped off her stool and paced to the coffee machine. She pushed buttons and gathered cups, for incoming customers.

  “No answer.” Heather’s insides twisted into a knot. She shouldn’t panic like this. Eva was a grown woman, for heaven’s sake.

  The phone buzzed in Heather’s palm and she lifted it. Ryan’s name flashed on the screen. The blood drained from her face.

  “Oh no,” she whispered. “No, no. I won’t think that. It can’t be.”

  “What’s the matter?” Amy asked. “Who’s calling?”

  Heather didn’t dare show Ames’ the caller ID. She’d likely have a full blown meltdown. She swiped her trembling thumb across the green icon, instead. “Hello?”

  “Hey,” Ryan said. “I’ve got some bad news.”

  The interior of the store spun around in front of her and she squeezed her eyes shut to block it out. The panic didn’t subside. “What’s going on?”

  “There’s been a murder.”

  “Who?”

  “One of the librarians at the Hillside Library was crushed by a bookshelf. You know, one of those massive things. Weighed a ton,” Ryan said.

  “A librarian?” Heather’s eyes snapped open and sound rushed back into her ears. She sucked in a deep breath. “Just a librarian.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “And your friend Eva was there to witness it.”

  “Oh my gosh, is she okay?” Heather asked.

  Amy fumbled the cups on the coffee machine’s silver grate.

  “She’s fine. A little shaken up, but fine,” Ryan replied. “I was hoping you could send someone over with a few donuts for her, actually.”

  “I can come –”

  “Not you, hon. I need your help with the case,” Ryan said and huffed a sigh. “This one’s tricky. Can you meet me at the library in a half hour? Bring a mug of coffee?”

  “Sure,” Heather said, no problem. She could breathe again, at least, now that she knew Eva was safe. “I’ll see you then,” she said and hung up.

  “Is she all right?” Amy asked.

  Maricela stepped forward to greet a customer and give them both a break. Her assistant to the rescue, as usual.

  “She’s at the station. Apparently, she witnessed a murder,” Heather said, and the beginnings of intrigue tugged at the end of the chromosome which held her sleuthin’ gene.

  “A murder!” Amy said, a little too loudly.

  The woman who’d ordered a donut gasped.

  “Just talking about a movie,” Amy said. “Uh, something by Stephen King.”

  The customer accepted her donut and scooted off to her table, glancing backward every few steps.

  “Huh, I don’t think she bought it.”

  “Of course she didn’t buy it,” Heather said. “Everyone knows we investigate murders here.”

  “What happened?” Amy asked.

  “I’m not entirely sure, just yet,” Heather said. “But a librarian was killed. Ryan mentioned a bookshelf. I’ve got to get over there now and help him out, but he asked if someone could take over some donuts for Eva while she’s there.”

  “I’ll do it,” Amy said, immediately. “Totally. Oh gosh, this probably shocked her. She needs some sugar in her system.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Heather said. “Eva’s a strong woman. She’s survived a lot and thrived because of it. I sometimes get the feeling that she’ll outlive me.”

  Amy laughed and scooted off toward the kitchen to rustle up some special Pecan Nut Crunch Donuts for their favorite customer.

  Heather tapped Maricela on the shoulder. “I’ll be back later to lock up, okay?”

  “Sure, boss. No problem. I hold down the fort,” she said.

  Maricela and Angelica’s English had improved in leaps and bounds over the past year. Heather smiled at her assistant then swept around the counter and toward the front door, curiosity driving her steps.

  Another week, another case. What would this one bring?

  Chapter 3

  Heather folded her
arms and tapped her heeled boot on the green carpet. “What was her name?” She asked.

  The building was eerily quiet, without the rustle of pages or the hushed whispers and steps of Hillside folks out to pick up a copy of the latest and greatest, or one of the classics.

  A green banker’s lamp illuminated the checkout counter and cast light on the fallen bookshelves.

  Ryan flipped up a sheet on his notepad. “Helena Chadwick,” he said. “New librarian. She’d only worked here for a week before it happened.”

  “And how, may I ask, did it – uh, you know –”

  Ryan directed the end of his pen toward the two fallen bookshelves. “As far as we can tell, the right one toppled onto her, and the left followed. She was caught in between.”

  “That must’ve made a lot of noise. And taken a lot of effort to pull off,” Heather said. “If they’re heavy enough to kill a woman, then surely they must be darn heavy to push over.”

  “I agree,” Ryan said. “We haven’t had them weighed yet, but the verdict is this must’ve been done by a man.”

  “Or a woman who had leverage,” Heather replied. She mimed inserting a crowbar beneath the shelf and tipping it forward.

  “Good point,” Ryan said and scribbled down a note on his pad.

  Heather turned in a slow circle, her hands tucked behind her back. She looked up at the second floor, empty of chairs, but overlooking the first with rails and platforms open to the air. “No witnesses?”

  “Only Eva and one other, but he was further back in the library,” Ryan said. “In one of those book alcove things.”

  Heather had sat in an alcove a few weeks back, ironically enough, and she’d heard nothing but the woman in front of her at the time, and seen only books, shelves and the written word.

  “Yeah, he definitely didn’t see anything if he was where he said he was,” Heather said. “Only two people?”

  “Nobody reads here anymore,” Ryan said. “They’ve all got those tablet doo-hickeys.”

  “I’m going to put aside the fact that you just used the word doo-hickey, to point out that the tablet you’re talking about is a Kindle. A Kindle, my good man,” Heather said and faced her husband. She winked at him. “You barbarian.”

 

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