Rhubarb Frosted Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery Book 10

by Susan Gillard

  Then she pranced across the grass and stopped in front of the stranger.

  He didn’t look up at her, but beads of sweat gathered at his temples and he blinked profusely.

  “You.” Heather pronounced. Dave growled for effect. “You were at the Flirty Fox last night.”

  The man flick-flacked the magazine and raised it to block her out.

  Heather grasped the glossy thing and ripped it from his grasp. “I said, you were at the Flirty Fox last night.”

  “So what if I was?” The man countered. He had massive lips, far too big for his pasty face, and his nose was a button above them. He kind of reminded her of Al Capone, but with less character.

  “Why are you following me?”

  “Listen, lady, I’m just reading my magazine,” he said and held out a hand to get the magazine back.

  “Oh yeah?” Heather replied, and flipped the mag around to check out the cover. “You’re interested in lip kits?”

  The stalker guy blushed. “It’s my girlfriend’s. I just wanted some light reading. Is that a crime?”

  Facts crashed together in Heather’s mind. “Your girlfriend. Honey?”

  His eyes widened and he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Yeah.”

  “Who are you?” Heather asked, flapping the magazine. “Why are you following me? And no more of this magazine reading nonsense.” Dave yapped and ran in a circle around Heather’s ankles. “I’ve got my husband on speed dial, by the way. He’s a detective with Hillside PD.”

  “Fine,” the man snapped. “I’m Dusty Carr, and yeah I’m Honey’s boyfriend.”

  “Dusty Carr,” Heather said, stifling a giggle. “All right, Dusty, why are you following me?”

  “I saw you talking to my woman last night and I wanted to find out why. She was upset afterward. I don’t like to see Honey upset.” Dusty cleared his throat and squirmed around in that oversized trench coat.

  Man, he had to be crispy underneath that thing. It wasn’t exactly a cool morning.

  “I see. And you thought stalking me was the best way to do that?”

  “Whatever,” Dusty said. “Just stay away from Honey, she’s been through enough.” He rose and straightened his trench coat, jerking it a couple times for effect.

  “Whoa, whoa wait,” Heather replied. “What do you mean?”

  “That Kent guy messed her up real good. She didn’t trust nobody after him. I’ve been with Honey for five years and I know what’s good for her.”

  Ah, the sounds of misogyny. The opposite of music to her ears.

  “You’ve been with Honey for five years?” Heather asked. The whole Kent infatuation couldn’t have sat well with him, and apparently, he knew all about it.

  “Yep, she’s my woman. Forever. Till the day we die.”

  “So you moved to Hillside with her, then?” Heather asked, and readjusted her grip on Dave’s leash. It was surprisingly difficult given that the mag was jammed into the same hand.

  “Nah, I followed her here. She didn’t wanna be with me, but I convinced her. She saw that Kent was no good, and look what happened to him. Someone got angry and did what Honey should’ve done.”

  Heather’s eyes went round as saucers. “Excuse me? Are you saying he deserved to get attacked?”

  Dusty shifted his feet in the dirt. “None of my business is it? But it’s not good when a man leads on and innocent woman like my Honey.”

  Delusional much?

  “Right. Mr. Carr, I think it’s time for you to go home.”

  “Oh, I’ll go home all right,” he said and shuffled closer. He snatched the magazine from her grip and rolled it into a cylinder. “But you stay away from my honey. Understand?”

  Heather didn’t grace the foul man with a reply. She turned her back on him and strode off, powered through the heat by the curiosity hopping around in her mind.

  Another suspect.

  And she had a hunch where to look next.

  Chapter 10

  “This is from last week,” Ken said, bringing through the handwritten ledger. “And this one is the new for today.”

  He placed the two books front and center on Heather’s desk in Donut Delights. The store was packed with donut and coffee lovers, and most recently, milkshake lovers. It was summer, after all. It seemed like a punishment to sell coffees and nothing cold to go with them.

  “Thanks, Ken,” Heather said, tracing the spine of the smaller leather-bound book. “I think it’s officially time for us to upgrade to a computer-based system.”

  “Agreed. It’s difficult keeping track of all those slips and capturing customer information. I think we spend more time doing that than baking.”

  Heather wrinkled up her nose and squinted. “I know. I’m sorry about that. I guess things expanded so quickly I never got a chance to pay attention to that side of the business. That’s a flaw on my part.”

  “No ways, boss. In our eyes, you have no flaws. Can I get you anything while you look all of this over?” Ken had his apron tied on, meticulously clean, of course, and wore a bright smile. He tapped his foot impatiently, keen to get back to baking more donuts.

  “I’ll take an iced coffee shake and a Rhubarb Frosted.”

  “Awesome, I’ve just finished a fresh batch. I’ll tell you, stewing the rhubarb is a pain in the butt, but so worth it.”

  “Right?” Heather flipped open one of the ledgers and scanned listed orders. She did feel a little guilty about the lack of system at Donut Delights, and with the increase in revenue and popularity of the store, she could afford to install a computer system to take care of it.

  The staff at the donut shop made certain to capture the details of every person making a purchase. It was easy. They handed out an order card the minute the customer arrived at the front, asked them to fill it out with name, phone number and their order, then sent that card through to the kitchen should there be a lack of fresh-baked donuts out front.

  Otherwise, the cards were spiked and kept for later.

  Ken disappeared and clicked the office door closed behind himself.

  Heather got a ruler out of her top drawer and used it to underline orders of Rhubarb Frosted donuts, murmuring to herself.

  “No, can’t be him, he was at the movies. No reason.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Definitely not Eva. Refused to believe that.”

  “They say talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity,” Ken said.

  Heather jumped and looked up.

  Her assistant stood in front of the desk, holding a milkshake and a donut on a plate. He set them down on the desk.

  “Ha, then I’ve been mad for years,” Heather replied. “Thanks, Ken. Let me know if you need anything in the kitchen. Or my help in the front for that matter.”

  “Nah, Angelica and Maricela have got the front covered. Eva was in earlier, though, asking after you.”

  Heather stifled a pang of guilt. “Thanks, Ken, I’ll be sure to get hold of her as soon as I can.”

  This case, as the others before it, had taken over her life. Maybe she was too involved in all of this.

  Heather frowned, shrugged off the doubt and returned to her ledger scans.

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  “No way,” she whispered. Heather whipped out a highlighter from her mug of pens and clicked it open.

  She highlighted Jed I. Knight’s name. So, he had been at her bakery, after all, and he’d bought Rhubarb Frosted donuts. A dozen of them.

  “Could it be? Better keep looking, just to be sure.”

  Heather continued her search. She flipped a page and gasped. The highlighter came out again. “Dusty Carr, too. I really need to get into Donut Delights earlier. I would’ve seen him.”

  Both of her prime suspects had been into the bakery in the last week, before Kent’s attack.

  Heather made to close the ledger, then paused, her finger caught on another name, further down the page. Honey Trickle. The exotic dancer had been in to purchase Rhubarb Froste
d donuts, as well.

  Of course, anyone could write a name on a card. It might not have been Honey or Dusty or Jed for that matter, it might’ve been the attacker trying to frame them for the attack.

  Heather sighed and pressed her back into her chair. This was more complicated than she’d anticipated.

  She shut her eyes and traveled back to her wedding in France, and then to Italy for her honeymoon. That memory was less sweet.

  In Italy, she’d never gotten the chance to spend time with Ryan. She’d wasted her happy honeymoon because she’d been caught up in her case, once again. That was time she’d never get back.

  Heather’s phone rang on the desk, buzzed across the polished surface.

  She straightened and picked it up, then answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Heather? Where are you?” Amy’s voice was too high for normal.

  “I’m at Donut Delights, why?” She glanced at the ledgers and dusted off the cover of one with her free hand. The leather was cool to the touch.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Amy said. “So, you haven’t been home this afternoon?”

  “Not yet. I dropped off Dave earlier. Ames, you’re kinda freaking me out here. What’s the matter?”

  “There’s a donut on your doorstep,” Amy replied.

  “Huh? What do you mean?”

  Amy inhaled, sharply. “Exactly what I said. There is a donut on your doorstep. It’s just sitting there.”

  “Let me guess, a Rhubarb Frosted donut?” Heather asked.

  “Yeah. Looks like it. This is going to put me off donuts for like. I swear, I just wanted to come back here and have a bath. I was with Kent all day, no improvement before you ask. And now this. He’s found me again, Heather. He’s after me.”

  “Amy, calm down. Everything’s going to be all right.” Heather rose from the desk, her own milkshake and donut untouched.

  “What do I do?”

  “Get back in your car and lock the doors. We don’t know who might be in the house.” Poor Dave, he’d better be safe. “I’m on my way.”

  Heather hung up and darted out the door, dialing her husband’s number as she went.

  This had to end before the killer struck again.

  Chapter 11

  Heather turned around on the sofa, squishing against it, and kicked off her blankets. It was too hot to sleep down here – there was an air conditioning unit in the master bedroom – but Amy had begged her to sleep downstairs and Ryan was working late again, so she’d obliged.

  The night was dead quiet, apart from Dave’s wheezing snores and Amy’s occasional twitch of a leg or arm.

  Heather couldn’t sleep. Not only was her husband out there again, but the case danced around in her mind, taunting her with questions. Solutions didn’t present themselves, and the harder she tried to ignore the internal rhetoric, the more frustrated she got.

  Heather sat up and grabbed the glass of water from the coffee table. She glugged it down, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  The cops had arrived earlier that afternoon to take the donut and storm through her home, Ryan at the lead, but they’d found nothing, apart from Dave, who’d managed to wee everywhere except on the doggy diaper she’d laid out in the corner of the kitchen.

  Whoever had left the donut was long gone.

  The effect on her bestie, however, wasn’t.

  Heather brought out her smartphone and shot off a text.

  Thinking of you. Missing you. When do I ever get to see my husband again?

  Ryan’s reply came through a second later.

  Missing you more. How about dinner tomorrow night? Anything but Mexican.

  Heather grinned and sniggered softly in the darkened living room. They had been dining at Dos Chicos a lot, lately.

  We’ll do Giovanni’s this time. I’m in the mood for Italian. Love you. She was in teenager mode, right now. Texting and giggling. Gosh, it was a nice feeling after ages of being empty when it came to romance.

  It’s on. Love you too.

  At least one of her concerns had been addressed. Ryan wanted to spend time with her, he was just career-driven, and she could totally understand that. They’d chosen to move into her home because Ryan had wanted to escape memories of his last wife.

  This was a fresh start for both of them, but that didn’t mean their careers would slow down.

  Nothing slowed down for –

  Crash! The tinkle of glass breaking.

  Amy snorted and scrambled upright. “Wha-what was that?”

  “Shush.”

  Dave hopped off the sofa and scooted out of the living room, his paws pattering down the hall. He barked a couple times, then growled.

  Another crack of broken glass, and a low mutter.

  “What was that?” Amy repeated, and she grasped at her throat.

  “I don’t know,” Heather whispered. “But I’m going to find out.” She rose from her sofa, then paused and opened her messages again.

  Noise at the house. Sounds like someone trying to break in. Need some help. They’d have the entire police force here in seconds if Ryan had anything to do with it.

  On my way. The text came back, immediately.

  “What are you doing?” Amy asked, and slipped off her sofa. She hurried up to Heather, and the scraping and banging at the back of the house continued.

  “Ryan’s on his way. Ames, be a doll and go get my Taser upstairs, will you? It’s on my dresser.” Heather asked.

  She needed her Taser and this would help Amy feel more in control of the situation.

  Amy sprinted into the hall and disappeared, and Heather strode after her.

  Dave’s barks rang through the emptiness. The passage was shrouded by darkness, but Heather didn’t switch on the lights. She wanted the advantage in this situation. She pressed her back to the wall and crept along it, scraping her new silk PJs against the paint.

  Amy reappeared at the base of the stairs and foisted the Taser on her. Heather checked that it was charged, then clicked the safety button up. “Let’s go,” she said.

  Ames got in line behind her and they tiptoed to the source of the noise. They reached the kitchen and stopped in the doorway.

  “What the –?” Amy whispered.

  “Amy! Is that you?” Jed I. Knight yelled from his position. And his position happened to be caught in the window itself. He’d broken the bottom pane of glass and tried to squish through, but his bulk had gotten caught and now, he was half in and half out.

  Heather burst into laughter.

  Amy elbowed her in the ribs, but it did nothing to quell the mirth.

  “I’m sorry,” Heather said, and Dave finally quieted at the sound of her voice, “but this is the worst break-in attempt ever.”

  “I need to talk to you, Amy.”

  “Yes, breaking and entering in the dead of the night is a great way to start a conversation,” Heather said. “Ever heard of a phone, Jed? You should invest in one.”

  “Shut up, fatty.”

  “Hey!” Amy yelled. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

  Heather wasn’t a vain woman, but she was well aware of her flaws and assets. She wasn’t fat, heck, she wasn’t even chubby. The guy had committed to an insult, though, she could kind of understand that.

  She clicked on the kitchen light, illuminating Jed’s ever-sweaty brown curls. His entrapment was even funnier, now.

  Heather laughed again and even Amy managed a chuckle, though she was practically green from fear.

  “Shut up!” Jed yelled.

  “No,” Heather said, and her laughter cut off. She paced across the room, skipping over glass shards and narrowing her eyes. “You shut up. Stop squirming or you’ll cut yourself. Did you put a donut on my doorstep?”

  Jed’s expression flickered from anger to confusion. “A what? No, of course not. You don’t need fattening up.”

  Heather pressed the button on her Taser and held it aloft. Electricity clicked and sparked b
etween the two metal prongs at the top.

  Jed gulped. “I mean, no, I didn’t leave a donut on your doorstep. I just wanted to talk to Amy. She hadn’t answered any of my calls.”

  “That’s because I’ve been blocking your calls, you freak,” Amy replied, and folded her arms across her chest. “Avoiding you is the reason I’m staying with Heather right now.”

  “We’re meant to be together,” Jed replied, and squirmed.

  Heather pressed her Taser button and he froze again.

  “You’re crazy,” Jed replied.

  “Hello pot, I’m kettle,” Heather said, then cupped a hand to her ear. “Do you hear that, Jed? What do you think that is?”

  They all fell silent and listened. Sirens whooped in the distance.

  “That is the sound of retribution, coming to you on swift wheels.” Heather dropped to her haunches and stared the sweaty man right in the eyes. “You stay away from my friend.”

  Chapter 12

  Heather stood behind the counter and cleared out the last of the donuts of the afternoon. She tucked them into big boxes and shut them up tight, with a smile. She’d drop them off at Hillside Manor before her big date with Ryan.

  She had a habit of giving away whatever donuts were left at the end of the day. Normally, Donut Delights sold out, but on slow days, she got the opportunity to be charitable, and she loved it.

  Heather checked her watch.

  She was due to meet up with Ryan at Giovanni’s at 6 pm. Only a half hour to go before she got a little romantic time with her hubby, and perhaps a chance to discuss the case in more detail.

  She had to know what Jed’s arrest – breaking and entering – had to do with Kent’s attack.

  Heather stacked the boxes on top of each other, brought out her keys, then scooped them up and made for the door. She’d let her assistants off early, today, and it was great to lock up her shop herself, for once.

  Heather armed the alarm, clicked off the lights, then opened the glass front door and slipped out into the street.