Chocolate Chocolate Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 56

by Susan Gillard

  “I just moved in with Jamie,” Amy said suddenly. “Why did you have to wait until I couldn’t follow to go?”

  “You know I didn’t plan this,” Heather said.

  “And you’d be leaving Mona and her wedding.”

  “I’d be here for the wedding, and I’d still help,” Heather insisted.

  “What if Jamie and I get engaged?” Amy asked.

  “Then I’d come back and help with that too.”

  “You can’t be Maid of Honor from across the country,” Amy said. “I hate that you’re abandoning me. Things finally seemed to be going right.”

  Heather was about to respond, but instead asked, “Are you mad right now?”

  “Duh,” Amy said. “Did we grow so far apart that you can’t tell?”

  “If you’re angry, tear apart this fabric,” Heather said, handing her a large scrap she had carried in her purse.

  Amy obliged and tore the fabric into pieces.

  “Actually,” Amy said. “That was stress relieving. Do you have any more?”

  “No,” Heather said. “But look at the pieces.”

  “What am I looking at?” Amy asked, staring at the mess.

  “You were angry and were just destroying the fabric because it was there.”

  “And because you told me to,” Amy said. “Don’t try and make me sound like a crazy person.”

  “Your rips and tears are all uneven.”

  “So?”

  “So, look at the fabric pieces that were found at the crime scene. They’re all about the same length. One foot. I didn’t think it was strange at the time, but now these tears look deliberate.”

  “They weren’t made in the heat of the moment in anger,” Amy said. “They were done to set the scene.”

  “Exactly,” said Heather. “The killer made it look like someone angry about their dress and wedding killed Sheila Lordlittle out of revenge, but this was just to distract us.”

  “It almost worked,” said Amy.

  “I think that the fabric being ripped into similar sizes tells us something else,” said Heather. “I think it tells us that the killer works with fabric a lot and knows how to use it.”

  “One of the sewing assistants,” Amy said. “Ollie or Abigail.”

  “I’m even more grateful for my current staff,” Heather said. “No murderers working for me right now. I’m sorry I left such a mess for Maricela to clean up though.”

  “Which of them did it?” Amy wondered aloud. “Ollie found the body, but could that be cover up? And neither had good alibis.”

  “Something else started to bother me,” Heather said. “Do you remember what June Grady told us?”

  “Yes,” Amy said. “And I promise if I ever get engaged not to turn into a Bridezilla who drives everyone including the groom away.”

  “Abigail Browning said that she couldn’t remember the names of the unhappy customers and that’s why she wrote down the description of the dresses,” Heather said.

  “Yes,” said Amy. “But that makes sense. There are some customers at Donut Delights that I don’t know the names of, but I know the order for. That one lady that always gets the fruit flavored donut. And the guy who always gets one donut to eat in the shop and then gets a repeat one for the road.”

  “It does make sense. But there’s a problem too. Do you remember what June Grady said about her having a nickname?”

  “The staff called her a Grady A Nightmare,” Amy said. “That is a great insulting nickname.”

  “It was based on her name,” Heather said. “I think it’s unlikely that they would have forgotten her name when asked about unhappy customers.”

  “But why would Abigail cover that up?” Amy asked.

  “I think,” Heather said. “Because I asked her to write it down.”

  Realization dawned on Amy’s face. “She wrote on the wall and didn’t want her handwriting matched.”

  “Ryan was right that it would be hard to match writing from paper to the wall. People could hold the writing utensil differently. But the “g” in “something” was distinctive,” Heather said. “Remember how I said it looked curly?”

  “It was really curly,” Amy agreed. “So?”

  “So, when Abigail wrote down the list of potential suspects, she avoided using the letter G. Now that I think about it, she avoided using it a lot. There was Tabitha Greenwald, Holly Lag, Betsy Gene and June Grady. Every one of them had a G in their last name.”

  “So, we found our killer!” Amy said.

  “I think so,” Heather said. “But do we have enough evidence to prove it?”

  Chapter 17

  “Should we wait for Ryan?” Amy asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Heather said. “He’s on his way, but there’s no reason not to start.”

  She and Amy entered Lordlittle’s Lovely Gowns. It looked even creepier than the last time they were there. The dresses that were torn had been removed from the scene, but the threatening message was still scrawled ominously. Having only part of the scene intact somehow looked even more threatening.

  “Okay, I have a reason,” Amy said. “This is seriously creepy. And what are we even looking for?”

  “Any piece of evidence that might have been overlooked,” Heather said. “Hopefully, we’ll know it when we see it.”

  They looked amongst the dresses that were still hanging in the shop. Then they moved into the back room. A long table had fabric spread out on it, and there were three sewing machines that were set up.

  The friends split up and began looking for evidence.

  “I think I found something,” Heather said.

  Amy hurried over and she showed her the book that she had found. It was Abigail’s sketchbook, containing designs of several dresses. It also had her name written on the inside cover.

  “This “g” in “Abigail” looks an awful lot like what was written on the wall, don’t you think?” said Heather.

  Amy nodded and looked through the book. “It’s a shame she’s a killer,” she said. “These dresses are pretty nice looking.”

  “Thanks,” a voice said. “I’ll be taking that book if you don’t mind.”

  They saw Abigail entering the room.

  “Actually, we do mind,” Amy said, clutching the book close to her. “This is evidence now.”

  “It’s my personal property, and I want it back.”

  “Is that why you’re here?” Heather asked. “To get this sketchbook?”

  “I thought it would be safe to get it now. I never meant to leave it behind. It has all my ideas inside,” Abigail said. “Now give it to me.”

  Instead, Heather and Amy made a run for the doorway. Amy made it farther with the sketchbook, but Abigail caught up with Heather. She grabbed Heather’s hair and pulled her back. Then she picked up a pair of sewing shears from a workbench and threatened Heather with them.

  “Give me the sketchbook or your friend isn’t making it out of here alive,” Abigail said.

  Heather couldn’t fight back with Abigail holding the shears so close to her throat. She looked around the room. An iron was nearby, but it was too risky to move with the sharp shears ready to attack.

  Amy paused. “How would you explain that to the police?” she asked stalling.

  “I guess I’d have to say that she died trying to save me from the same crazed killer that got Ms. Lordlittle,” Abigail said. “Now give me the sketchbook.”

  “Why did you kill Ms. Lordlittle?” Amy asked.

  “She wouldn’t even look at my sketches,” Abigail said. “She was making the most ridiculous things, but wouldn’t look at my designs. What was the point of working here if I couldn’t move up? This was hurting my career. And so, I wanted to hurt her.”

  “And after you killed her, you set the scene to look like an unhappy bride attacked her?” Amy asked.

  “How did you know it was me?” Abigail asked. “My handwriting? I thought I was so careful.”

  “And the rips you ma
de in the dresses,” Amy said. “They were too professionally done.”

  Heather tried to join in. “You said you didn’t recognize the dress fabric that was used to strangle her, but it had to have come from the store. You grabbed it because it was easily accessible, but then pretended you hadn’t seen it recently. You wanted us to think that it was from the unhappy bride’s wedding.”

  Abigail was tired of talking. She adjusted her grip on Heather and moved the shears closer. “Give me the sketchbook,” she repeated.

  Amy locked eyes with Heather, and then Heather looked at the iron. Without speaking, they formed a plan.

  “I have a better idea,” Amy said. “Let Heather go, or I’ll tear your designs to shreds.”

  She opened the book to emphasize her threat. In horror, Abigail loosened her hold on Heather.

  Heather moved quickly. She grabbed the iron and hit Abigail with it, then she and Amy ran out of the shop as quickly as they could.

  They were just catching their breath outside when Ryan appeared on the scene. They explained what happened and Ryan rushed inside to capture the killer.

  The two friends were just happy that this case didn’t turn out to be their last.

  Chapter 18

  “You were almost killed,” Amy said. “What am I going to do if you get yourself killed?”

  “I’ll try not to let it happen,” Heather assured her.

  They were both in stalls in a new dress shop, trying on bridesmaid dresses. It sounded as if they were about to have a touching moment, and Heather found it amusing that they were discussing it through a wall.

  “That’s what I worry about,” Amy said. “If you move away, who’s going to have your back when you get into trouble with killers?”

  “I’d be moving to start another donut shop,” Heather said. “Not as an investigator.”

  “Yeah, but how long is that going to last. Sleuthing is in your blood. You’re not going to be able to give it up for long,” Amy said. “And besides, the last time we went to Key West, and on vacation, mind you, we ended up involved in a murder case.”

  Heather had to admit that she had a point there.

  “I’d be careful,” Heather said.

  “I know,” Amy said. “And I know you can take care of yourself. But you’re my best friend. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Especially if I’m not there to help.”

  “I understand,” Heather said. “I’d be worried about you solving cases in Hillside on your on too. But I know you can handle it.”

  “Solve cases on my own?” Amy asked.

  “Were you going to retire without me?” Heather asked.

  “I hadn’t really thought about it,” Amy admitted.

  “You shouldn’t give it up. You have a gift for it too. And,” said Heather. “Who was the one who saved me from the killer?”

  “I guess I am pretty good at what I do,” Amy said.

  Heather finished zipping up her dress and started to emerge from her stall.

  “I really am happy for you, and I want you to do what’s best for you,” Amy said. “I’d just miss you so much.”

  Amy emerged from her stall too, and the two friends hugged. Mona joined them and grinned at what she saw.

  “Everyone is feeling the love?” she asked.

  “I guess so,” said Amy.

  They stepped back, and all looked at the new bridesmaid dresses. They were flattering on both of the co-Maids of Honor. They were pink like the roses that Mona had been fond of. While pink didn’t always compliment Heather’s hair, this shade actually looked stunning on her.

  “I think these might be the dresses I want,” Mona said. “They look beautiful on you both.”

  “Really?” Amy joked. “I was leaning towards that first one that I tried on with all the ruffles.”

  “Don’t tease,” Mona said. “I could still bring that one back.”

  However, as they looked into the mirror, they knew that these pink dresses were the right choice for Mona’s wedding. They were elegant and cozy at the same time.

  “Now, Heather, Col was so excited about this Florida deal, he can’t seem to stop talking about it. And it’s making me excited about it too. But you’ve got to promise me that you’ll still help me with my wedding plans.”

  “Of course, I promise,” Heather said.

  “Good,” Mona said. “Because I need both of you.”

  “You couldn’t stop us if you tried,” Amy said.

  “And now that we’ve found these bridesmaid dresses are we set with the dresses?” Heather asked. “Or are we back to square one with the wedding dress?”

  “The police told me that I could have the dress if I want it. It’s no longer a piece of evidence,” Mona said. “And I think Sheila Lordlittle would like it if I wore what she designed.”

  “But how do you feel about it?” asked Heather.

  “I still think it’s the perfect dress,” Mona said. “Even if the circumstances surrounding it weren’t ideal, it’s what’s right for me. I’m excited to wear it on my wedding day.”

  Heather’s heart felt light as she stood there with her friends. Mona’s words rang true. Mona had made peace with her thoughts that she and Col weren’t meant to be together. She realized that even though wedding planning had not been ideal, they were still in love and were going to make the wedding and marriage work. Heather felt similar about her move. She hadn’t been expecting it and leaving her friends was not going to be ideal, but it seemed like the right choice for her. She was excited for the changes that it would bring, but for today, she was happy to be with her friends in a pretty dress.

  The End

  A letter from the Author

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