Rhubarb Frosted Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery Book 10

by Susan Gillard

  She turned to lock it and froze, the keys dangling from her fingers.

  A note had been pasted to the door. A heart drawn in bright red lipstick.

  Heather sucked in a breath. A threat? It had to be some kind of warning from the killer.

  She snatched it off the door and examined it closely, but the paper didn’t have other markings.

  The killer’s calling card.

  Heather gulped and glanced over her shoulder, into the late afternoon haze of sun. The coast was clear. Cars sped down the road, turned the corner. People chatted, walking together, a few walking dogs.

  Nothing suspicious. No trench coats.

  Heather locked the shop, then stuck the calling card on top of the donuts and hurried to her car. Her insides churned around, but she kept her cool, figuratively of course, and unlocked her car door.

  She slipped inside, closed up, then slid the donuts onto the passenger seat.

  Heather stared at the glistening lipstick heart.

  The shade was too familiar. Honey Trickle’s lipstick? It very well could be, after all, she’d bought Rhubarb Frosted donuts from Donut Delights before the attack.

  Heather drew in deep breaths and exhaled through her nose. She’d report this to Ryan at dinner – he’d have more insight on what it meant.

  Heather started her car and drove through Hillside, struggling to focus on the road. Images of donuts and lipstick flashed in front of her eyes. She ghosted through the delivery of the donuts at Hillside Manor, then hurried off to Giovanni’s.

  Ryan sat a booth in the back corner, fiddling with the kerosene lamp in the center of the table.

  “Sorry, I’m late,” Heather said.

  Ryan rose and drew her into his arms, he kissed her softly on the lips, then looked into her eyes. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. Okay, something. Let’s sit down to talk about it.” Heather slid into the booth, and Ryan sat down right after.

  Two glasses of water sat on the checked tablecloth, and Heather lifted one and sipped. The cool liquid slid down her throat and settled in her stomach. Ah, that was better.

  It was strange, but water always calmed her.

  “What’s going on?” Ryan asked.

  Heather brought out the slip of paper and laid it on the table. The heart glinted by the lamplight.

  Ryan raised his eyebrows. “That looks like –”

  “Yeah, exactly like the calling card the attacker left at Kent’s house. It was stuck to the front door of Donut Delights.” Heather drank more water.

  “I have to take this in for evidence,” Ryan said but scratched the wrinkles on his forehead instead. “This doesn’t make sense.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we’ve already arrested the attacker. Jed. We had enough incriminating evidence. We found a partial fingerprint on the torn up picture of Amy and Kent, and it was positive for Jed’s thumb.”

  “But he’s behind bars, right now, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah, no one’s posted bail yet,” Ryan replied.

  Heather opened her mouth to speak, but a waiter appeared a moment later. He placed a focaccia bread on the table, cut into perfect triangles, then hurried off.

  Ryan took a slice and bit into it, then groaned. “Yes, Italian was a fantastic idea.”

  “Hold on a second,” Heather said, “this doesn’t make any sense. Jed lived in Hillside his entire life and the case I researched occurred in Dallas. Remember? The killer tied the man up and left a similar card?”

  “A heart?”

  “Yes, I think so. There wasn’t much detail, but it doesn’t –”

  Ryan raised a finger. “Heather, don’t start.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The case is closed. We’ve got Jed, and it’s only a matter of time before he confesses to the crime. Don’t drag this out anymore. Let’s just enjoy our evening.”

  Heather sat back and pursed her lips. “That lipstick is the same shade as Honey Trickle’s.”

  “You just can’t let it go,” Ryan replied, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. He pointed at the heart. “Honey Trickle has an alibi for that night. Are you telling me that she’s the only woman who bought or owns that shade of lipstick in Hillside?”

  “No, but she followed Kent here from Dallas. And she was in love with him.”

  Ryan froze, finger still extended. “How do you know all this?”

  “I, uh –”

  “You’ve been investigating again. Another case and you’ve been investigating it, even though I asked you not to.” Ryan went red as a beet. He rose from the seat, took out his wallet, then scratched around inside it.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going home, Heather. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Ryan took out a few bills and tossed them onto the table.

  “Call me? But we live together.”

  Ryan sighed. “Do we?” And then he walked out.

  Chapter 13

  Heather stood on her front porch and stared at the driveway. Ryan’s car wasn’t parked there. He’d obviously gone back to his old place – he hadn’t managed to sublet it yet – and left their fight for the night.

  She didn’t blame him.

  The start of their marriage hadn’t exactly been awesome. She’d spent the past few weeks investigating, not welcoming him home with open arms. She’d neglected Donut Delights too.

  Heather inserted the key into her front door and let herself into the house. The scent of Ryan’s cologne hung in the hall, and she sighed and blinked back tears.

  She needed to get back to herself, her old self. The same woman who’d opened a donut shop and who spent time with her employees.

  Goodness, she’d hardly seen them since she’d come back from her honeymoon. Jung was always in the kitchen, Heather never was.

  Her employees would understand, they always did, but that wasn’t how she wanted to run Donut Delights.

  She missed her friends, and Eva, and…

  “Ugh,” Heather murmured, and tucked her keys into her palm.

  But she didn’t have a clue how to go back to just making donuts and staying out of drama. She was drawn to these cases, it felt right to investigate them, but it kept hurting Ryan and his career too.

  Dave padded down the hall and licked at her feet.

  “I just don’t get it. They arrested Jed, but I don’t believe it was him.” Amy’s voice came from the living room. “Yeah, I know right? And I’m still so furious at Kent too.”

  Heather arched an eyebrow. Who was on the phone with Amy? And why was she angry with her boyfriend, who was still cooped up in hospital?

  Heather crept forwards, straining her ears for more tidbits. Dave padded along beside her, ever the guard dog.

  “I know it’s a horrible thing to say, but ever since I found out he went to that club and spoke to, to her, I’ve just been so angry. I can’t contain it anymore. I want him to remember everything just to fight with him all over again. I feel betrayed. I believe he didn’t do anything wrong, but I still feel betrayed and I don’t know why.”

  Heather’s heart sank. Amy wasn’t this person. She wasn’t mean or heartless, she didn’t gossip to strangers.

  “I don’t even want to get started on Heather. She’s investigating but it’s like her heart is only half in it. She doesn’t want to help me, I can see it. She’s selfish. She’s afraid her husband will find out and leave her or something.”

  Dave barked his indignation at the mention of Heather’s name and the cruel tone of voice from Amy.

  The game was up. Amy had definitely heard him, she’d stopped talking immediately.

  Heather stepped around the corner and into the living room, her insides curled into a ball.

  Amy dropped the phone from her ear, jaw slack. “Heather, I –”

  “I understand you’ve been through a lot, Amy, but that’s no excuse to talk about me behind my back. I thought we were best friends.”

  “I’m s
orry. I just can’t stand it anymore.”

  Heather sucked in a deep breath. They weren’t in High School anymore, even if Amy chose to act that way. They were grown women, with jobs and spouses, with rent to pay and problems of their own.

  “We’ve been friends for years, Amy. I’m willing to forgive you for almost anything, but I think it’s time we take a time out from our friendship.”

  “A time out? Like a toddler time out?” Amy asked, the phone still at her side. She tucked it into her pocket, at last.

  “That seems fitting,” Heather replied. “The pressure of the attack, the wedding, everything must’ve gotten to both of us.”

  “I –”

  “Because this?” Heather pointed at Amy’s chest and then at her own. “This is not us. This is not how we operate in our friendship or in life for that matter.”

  Amy stared at her, speechless.

  “Things need to settle,” Heather continued. “I’m doing the best I can in this case, but yes, I am having some personal issues with my husband. I hoped to lean on you about that, but yeah, I guess we’ve both got troubles of our own.”

  “Heather, I’m so sorry. I don’t know if you could ever forgive me, I’m just so frustrated. I could scream.”

  Heather stepped back into the hall, staying within Amy’s line of sight. Dave sat beside her ankle and rubbed his furry side against her skin.

  “I know you are. We both are. That’s why it’s time for us to take a break. I’ll call you once this has blown over. Okay?”

  Amy pressed her lips together to stop herself crying. She bobbed her head once, then hurried past Heather and out the front door. It clicked closed behind her.

  Heather closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the silence. An empty home.

  Dave yapped.

  Ah well, not totally empty, thank goodness.

  Heather looked around her hall, taking in the quaint decorations, the potted plants, the cool color scheme and wooden floors. Her home felt more like a house.

  “I’ll be back later, Dave,” Heather said, and bent to stroke his furry crown, keys jingling in her palm.

  Dave trotted off towards the living room, to spoil a few rugs, no doubt.

  Heather hurried out of the front door and back to her car. She’d pasted the heart calling card to her dashboard because Ryan had forgotten to take it. She let herself into her car, started the engine, then adjusted the rearview mirror.

  Donut Delights was where she belonged right now. She needed to be in a kitchen, baking and working things through in her mind.

  Her marriage, the case, her friendship with Amy, all of it needed dissection.

  If only there were a way to make it all work together, seamlessly.

  Heather put the car in reverse. She’d find the answer. Even if she had to make twenty batches of Rhubarb Frosted donuts, she’d find the answer to it all.

  Chapter 14

  Heather parked a few spaces from Donut Delights and let herself into the street. It was already dark, the haze of city lights and the rumble of cars comforted her. The air was warm too, and sweet as sticky treacle.

  Heather rolled her shoulders, then set off towards the bakery.

  Those Rhubarb Frosted donuts wouldn’t know what had hit ‘em.

  Heather froze and squinted past the glare from the lamppost overhead. She stepped out of the light and gasped.

  A hooded figure stood in front of the shop, sticking pieces of paper to the door, the windows, everywhere. They were all covered in…

  “Lipstick hearts.” Heather ground her teeth. So, this was the vandal. It was time to get her hands dirty, possibly lipstick-smudged.

  She strode down the sidewalk, ramming the heels of her pumps into the concrete. “Hey you,” Heather yelled.

  The hooded figure jumped, dropping an armful of the lipstick heart notes. They fluttered through the air and drifted to the ground, some into the street, underneath cars.

  The figure turned to dart off.

  Heather caught the arm of the hoodie and clung on for dear life. “Don’t you dare move.” She reached into her purse and brought out her Taser. Goodness, she’d never thought she’d need the thing, but now she couldn’t be without it.

  She clicked the button and sparked the electricity.

  “Easy, easy,” a man said, from within the depths of the hood.

  Heather tilted her head to one side. She’d fully expected it to be Honey.

  The man faced her and reached up. He let down his hood and stared her in the face.

  “You! What are you doing?” Heather asked. “And no magazine lies either. There’s no Kylie Jenner to protect you this time.”

  Dusty Carr scowled. The night was balmy, yet his skin was coated in sweat, beads dripped from his eyelashes for heaven’s sake.

  “I was just, uh –”

  “Marking me as your next victim? What’s this about?” Heather asked, gesturing to her gummed up shop windows, and the collection of papers and hearts. That would take an age to scrape off and clean.

  “I – it’s nothing, uh.” Dusty stammered, sweat splattering the hoodie. Damp moons had appeared beneath his arms.

  “Look, you can explain it to me, or I can call the cops and Taser you for good measure.” She clicked the button again, and her device crackled. “This isn’t my first rodeo, you know.”

  “Fine,” Dusty snapped. “It was Honey. She told me to come here and put up these things.”

  “Honey?”

  “Yeah, I’d do anything for her, you know. Anything. She asked me to stick these up, is all. I’ve got nothing to do with it, really, but I love her, and I’ll do whatever she wants. That’s all. That’s all it is.”

  “Repeating ‘that’s all’ isn’t engendering me with much confidence, Dusty.”

  “Gender? I’m a man! I don’t wear lipstick.”

  “No, I said engender, like you’re not inspiring me with confidence,” Heather replied.

  But Dusty Carr hadn’t heard a word of it. He scrubbed his palms together. “You can ask anybody. I’m as much man as the next guy. I love Honey, is all. She brings out this side of me.” He nodded towards the lipstick hearts.

  “Never mind,” Heather said and rolled her eyelids. At least she had some info on Honey. This might be useful. “Why? Why does she want these put up.”

  “Uh, she said something about getting you to back off from the case. She was angry with you for asking her questions about Kent.”

  “Why?” Heather asked, pushing harder.

  “I don’t know,” Dusty said, shifting his gaze from her face to the Taser every other second. “Maybe because she hurt Kent? I know she was angry about the whole Amy thing. She thought that Kent liked her and when he said that he didn’t she was really mad. You shoulda seen it.”

  “What did she do?”

  Dusty’s gaze shifted to the left. “Started to draw lipstick hearts all over her mirror in her dressing room at the club.”

  Heather inhaled. “All right. I’m going to switch on the lights inside, and you’re going to clean my windows up right this second.”

  Dusty narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to call the cops are you?”

  “For the vandalism or Honey’s involvement in Kent’s attack?” Heather asked, her head spinning a little.

  “Both?” Dusty asked.

  “Don’t you worry about that,” Heather replied. She joggled the Taser up and down and put up a menacing expression.

  Dusty was unimpressed – probably because she wasn’t practiced at ‘menacing’.

  “Come inside. I’ll give you napkins to mop your face,” Heather said.

  The vandal touched his forehead and rubbed his fingers together. “I’m fine.”

  “If you say so. Just get this all cleaned up. I’ll be right back,” she replied, then marched to the door, her keys out already. She glanced back at Dusty and her heart leaped. “Hey! Where are you –?”

  But the sweaty man had already sprinted off towa
rds the distant parking lot, the hood of his hoodie flopping up and down from the speed. For a slightly overweight guy, he was pretty fast.

  “Huh,” Heather said, “maybe Keeping Up With The Kardashians was on.” But her guts rumbled and squirmed, like sour milk with an added dash of lemon.

  Oh boy. What if Dusty had gone to warn Honey that she would call the cops?

  Heather whipped out her cell and dialed Ryan’s number. She froze, then hung up. He wouldn’t take kindly to her calling about the case, but what choice did she have?

  She needed to report this.

  But then, what was there to report? Dusty Carr had stuck hearts on her window and had claimed that Honey had attacked Kent. That wasn’t evidence. Ryan probably wouldn’t be able to do much, since Hillside PD had declared the case closed, now that Jed was in custody.

  No, she was on her own this time.

  And that left her a single option.

  Heather stowed her smartphone in her pocket and drew in a sharp breath. Boy, she’d hoped she wouldn’t have to go back to the Flirty Fox anytime soon.

  But Heather had to get the evidence before she could call Ryan in on this.

  After this was done they could work on their marriage and Heather could get back to creating the best donuts in Hillside.

  Chapter 15

  Heather had found Honey Trickle’s dressing room without any real trouble. She stood in front of it, marveling at the fact that the owner of the Flirty Fox had actually stuck a star on the door.

  Honey’s name was printed across the center in curling font.

  Heather shook her head once. Who was she to judge? Honey Trickle was technically an entertainer. Perhaps she deserved that star.

  “Not the time,” Heather said, to herself. She raised her fist and knocked twice on the door.

  She couldn’t make out anything above the drumbeat from the club behind her. It was late again, and there were plenty of partygoers laughing and dancing around back there.

  Heather knocked again, then pressed her ear closer to the wood.

  Nothing. No, wait, what was that?

  She pushed back, her eyes widening. That’d definitely been a moan of pain. Or a muffled cry for help.