Dying for a Donut (Laurel McKay Mysteries Book 5)

by Cindy Sample

  Eric scowled. “Brent and Tony are in the warehouse unloading supplies.”

  “Tony is working here again? Are you sure?”

  Eric threw me one of those disgusted teenage looks. “Yeah, we’ve lost some staff, and my mom hired him back.” He swore under his breath.

  “How nice of your mother to give Tony a second chance.”

  “Yeah, a second chance to steal from us.” Eric shoved the cider at me and grabbed the five- dollar bill in my hand. “That’s going to change when I take over.”

  He yelled “Next” to the person behind me. Okay, I guess we were done here. I returned to my car and deposited the jug in the back seat; I needed my hands free for eating.

  I mean sleuthing.

  I headed toward the warehouse, analyzing Eric’s last remark. It probably made sense for the heir apparent to want to assume control of the business. I wondered how his uncle and mother felt about that. And their current farm manager.

  As I reached the warehouse where I’d discovered Axel’s body, a sense of déjà vu filled me with dread. But despite my trepidation, questioning Brent was a priority.

  The large wooden doors were propped wide open. Both Brent and Tony unloaded supplies from a truck backed into the building. I could only imagine the quantity of flour, sugar, cinnamon, and shortening they purchased in order for Nina and her staff to make their heavenly pastries.

  I yodeled a hello as I approached the men. Tony must have recognized me as Jenna’s mother since he waved and smiled.

  “This area isn’t open to the public,” Brent said as he walked toward me, his work-roughened hands shooing me away.

  “Nina sent me to speak with you.” I nodded at Tony, still not overly enthralled with the young man and the activities he’d persuaded Jenna to participate in.

  “Does Nina need some supplies?” Brent asked.

  Did she? Considering the number of patrons roaming the grounds, she probably did.

  I emphatically nodded as I tried to convince myself as well as Brent. “She told me to have Tony bring a bag of…” I scanned the burlap bags stacked well over my head. “Sugar. And flour. And cinnamon.”

  Brent screwed up his face at my order. “Must be doing a good bit of business in the bakery. Okay, boy, take your grandma her supplies. But come right back. Don’t stop to gab with those cute gals at the counter.”

  I seconded that motion, although a wee bit of gabbing would give me more time alone with Brent.

  Tony flashed a Crest-white grin, probably relieved for the short break. He loaded the heavy bags into a covered golf cart adorned with the Apple Tree logo and set off for the bakery. Brent moved away from me and reentered the warehouse. I was right behind him.

  He pivoted and suddenly we were nose to nose. “Is there more?” he barked. His clothes smelled like stale tobacco so I retreated a few feet.

  “A friend of mine, Liz Daley, the owner of Golden Hills Spa, left some supplies here last Friday. Axel had arranged for her to take over the spot that Weather Vainery used to occupy.”

  “That Vanna,” he snorted. “She couldn’t sell those lame ass vanes if her life depended on it.”

  “Right. I guess that’s why Axel decided to give Liz the opportunity. With his demise, I understand it’s somewhat uncertain whether Apple Tree will stay in business. Liz asked me to find the Beautiful Image cartons. Her cosmetics are quite valuable, and she’d hate for them to get mislaid or thrown away.”

  Brent’s thick graying brows drew together, and he moved closer. “What do you mean Apple Tree Farm might not stay in business? Who did you hear that from?”

  I moved away. “Several people mentioned it to me. I can’t remember offhand who it was.”

  “Did Dorie tell you she’s selling the place?” he asked.

  “Not exactly. But this place is a huge operation for her to manage. Maybe she would be better off selling it and living on the equity.”

  “She’s got me to manage it for her. If she’d let me. The woman’s sticking her nose all over the place. She’s gonna ruin everything.”

  I nodded sympathetically. “I agree. She should be relying on you more. After all, you were Axel’s right-hand man.”

  “You got that right.”

  This conversation was all very interesting, but I hadn’t learned anything useful so far. It might be time to up my game.

  “So, considering your close relationship with Axel, how come he threatened to fire you?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Brent backed away, stumbled over a burlap bag and landed with his legs splayed on the cement floor. I reached out a hand to help him, but he declined and quickly stood.

  “You’re just full of questions, aren’t you?” He snarled at me as he brushed off his jeans.

  “There are always questions when a murder has occurred. And since I’m the one who found Axel, I certainly have some.” I put my palms up. “Not that I’m accusing you of anything. Someone mentioned your conversation with Axel.”

  “You mean that old bag overheard us talking,” he muttered, “and sent you over here to pry.”

  Yep, that was pretty much it.

  I switched to a different tack. “Why don’t you tell me what the discussion was about, and then I’d be willing to put in a good word for you with Dorie.”

  “I don’t need any help from you or any other meddling busybodies.” He took a couple of steps in the opposite direction then turned back to face me.

  “Okay, I might as well get it off my chest so you can leave me alone.”

  Brent’s easy acquiescence surprised me, but I waited to hear what he had to say.

  “Axel and me didn’t always see eye to eye on some of the operational stuff,” Brent drawled. “Nothing out of the ordinary though.”

  “I can see how that could happen,” I encouraged him. “Axel probably had his mind set on doing things a certain way.”

  Brent relaxed his shoulders at my comment. “Right. As the farm manager, I’m supposed to have the authority to manage everything. Especially with Axel all tied up building that ritzy new mansion of his.”

  I nodded, growing more and more curious about the Thorson’s new home. It sounded gorgeous. But this was not the time to get distracted. I had questions, and Brent was finally supplying answers.

  “So I decided to change suppliers.” Brent pointed toward the rows of shelving, loaded with bags of staples, which looked sufficient to make the fifty thousand-plus donuts Nina told me they sold every month. Considering over a million tourists visited the Apple Hill area every year, that number wasn’t entirely out of the question. “And improve the bottom line.”

  “Why would a change in suppliers bother Axel? Especially if it helped to reduce expenses?”

  Brent shrugged. “Never said. Just told me he was the boss and to go back to using the vendors we used before. Or else.”

  “So you did.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Right. Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.” He strode off to the depths of the warehouse without giving me a chance to utter my thanks for the information he’d shared.

  Lost in thought, I strolled back to the bakery. Brent’s explanation made sense, sort of. Axel had developed excellent relationships with all of his vendors over the years. He wouldn’t appreciate Brent changing them while he’d been distracted building the new house. Even if it did help the bottom line.

  Or did it? Maybe Brent switched vendors to help his bottom line. Now that would definitely be grounds for Axel to terminate him and report him to the authorities.

  But was Axel’s threat sufficient reason for Brent to terminate his boss? Permanently? What amount of money were we talking about here?

  Why was it the more questions I asked, the more questions arose? And how could I let Brent walk away without locating Liz’s supplies?

  The flashing lights of an El Dorado County Sheriff’s vehicle pulling into a parking space across from the bakery distracted me from my reverie. Detec
tive Reynolds jumped out of the car and rushed into the bakery. The expression on her face was not the look of a donut-seeking detective. Young Deputy Mengelkoch was right behind her.

  I sped up, my heart racing almost as quickly as my red sneakers. Why wasn’t Tom ever around when I needed his support? Wasn’t that the whole point of being in a relationship? Having someone to hold your hand when times were tough?

  I blew out a breath. Everything was probably just fine. Reynolds couldn’t possibly intend to arrest Jenna. A high-pitched scream that sounded remarkably like my daughter echoed from inside the building. Tourists munching on their apple-filled treats paused to look around.

  I sprinted around a baby carriage and vaulted over a crate of apples a startled tourist dropped in front of me, barely managing to avoid sideswiping an elderly couple leaving the bakery.

  Cinnamon-scented chaos greeted me inside. People swarmed in all directions, some trying to get out of the way, others moving closer to the action. One crabby customer continued to stand at the window demanding that someone hand over her donuts.

  I sighed in relief when I saw Jenna was fine. Then I noticed the tears streaming down her flour-mottled cheeks as she stood with her arm around Nina. The older woman looked ready to collapse as Detective Reynolds snapped a pair of handcuffs around her target.

  Tony Perez.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The sea of tourists parted as Reynolds and the deputy led their silent captive out of the bakery. I followed them since nosiness is one of the required attributes of the TWO GALS DETECTIVE AGENCY. Plus, as far as I knew, the suspect’s grandmother was still our client.

  “What are you doing?” I called out to Reynolds.

  “Our job,” she replied. “Step back, Ms. McKay, or we’ll also take you in, for interfering with an arrest.”

  The detective shoved Tony into the backseat of her car. Deputy Mengelkoch tried to control the crowd, some of whom probably thought this was a new reality show––CSI: Donut Detectives. Reynolds backed up the car, barely missing a teen snapping photos with his phone. The young man spun around and took a few shots of me. I covered my face with my hands. The last thing I needed was to make a social media splash tonight.

  The deputy jumped into the passenger seat. The car crawled down the road as Reynolds attempted to avoid knocking over any curious tourists. Through the side window, Tony sent me one last pleading look before he bowed his head.

  I returned to the bakery. Dorie and Jenna stood on either side of a sobbing Nina. A “temporarily closed” sign had been placed in front of one of the bakery windows, but Rose’s window was now elbow-deep in hungry patrons.

  Jenna flung her arms around me. “Mom,” she sobbed.

  “It will be okay, honey.” I patted her back but had no idea whether my statement would prove to be true or not. She finally released me, and I was free to speak to the other two women.

  “Nina, did the detective say anything to you?” I asked.

  “Nada,” she sniffed. “Tony delivered those supplies you requested for me.” She quirked a silvery eyebrow at me. “He was on his way back to the warehouse when the detective arrived.”

  “Can they do that?” Dorie asked me. “Arrest Tony a second time?”

  “Yes, they can. They must have found additional evidence against him.”

  “But he didn’t do it,” Nina cried. “It’s not possible. I know it.”

  “Can you call Tom?” Jenna asked. “Please.”

  I whipped out my cell, but as usual my call went directly to Tom’s voicemail, so all I could do was leave a message. A rather surly voicemail, I admit, which was not my intent. The combination of my frustration with our relationship and fear about Tony’s arrest colored my tone.

  Dorie went back into the bakery to help out at the counter. Nina didn’t seem to be in any condition to wait on people unless you enjoyed eating donuts decorated with teardrops. I used a tissue to wipe the mascara-stained tears from Jenna’s pale cheeks and sent her off to help Dorie. Serving customers should provide a temporary distraction for her.

  I asked Nina if there was someplace we could talk, where we didn’t have to worry about anyone eavesdropping or snapping photos. A grieving grandmother should not be considered camera fodder for the paparazzi.

  Nina led me past super-sized stainless mixing bowls and enormous rectangular fryers, to the rear of the bakery kitchen where a grouping of four straight-back wooden chairs were set around a small square table.

  “Can I get you any water?” I asked. “Or a donut?”

  She shook her head, her gray braid swinging in all directions. “No, I’m okay. Tony’s arrest was such a shock to my system. I thought everything would be fine once they released him.”

  “It looks like you better hire a lawyer for him.”

  “But how will I pay for one?” Her face crumpled, and she looked like she would tear up again.

  “Don’t worry about that. If you can’t afford an attorney, they’ll assign a public defender to his case.” I patted her hand while I assembled some questions of my own. “Nina, since they arrested Tony again, they must have new evidence against him. I take it he doesn’t have an alibi?”

  “After Axel fired him, Tony said he cruised around for a while then grabbed a burger at a drive-through. Eventually he calmed down. He told me he drove back to Apple Tree to talk to Axel about the missing money, knowing that Axel frequently worked late. Axel’s car was in the parking lot, but his office was dark. Tony assumed he’d gotten a ride with Eric or Dorie. When Tony arrived home, my bedroom door was closed so he figured I was asleep and didn’t call out.”

  Not much of an alibi. In fact, none at all.

  “Detective Reynolds must be zeroing in on something other than motive. I can’t imagine Tony killing Axel just because he fired him. I can understand him being angry about Axel’s decision, but murder would be an extreme reaction, wouldn’t it?”

  “Tony has a bit of a temper,” she admitted, “but it disappears as fast as it flares up. He hates bullies and was kicked out of high school after he punched a punk who wouldn’t stop picking on an autistic kid. He’s working on his temper, and I can assure you Tony would never kill Axel. Never, ever, ever.”

  “Tony certainly has his grandmother in his corner. But, what if in a fit of anger, your grandson grabbed a rolling pin and assaulted Axel?”

  She latched on to my hands, squeezing them tight. Nina was several decades older than me, but her years working in the bakery led to muscular arms far stronger than my banker biceps.

  “Tony would never have murdered him,” she said. “Axel was his father.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Whoa! I sure didn’t see that one coming. Axel was Tony’s father?

  Who knew? Actually, that was a very good question. Who did know? And did the answer have anything to do with Axel’s murder?

  “How long has Tony known Axel was his father?” I asked Nina.

  “Not much longer than I’ve known,” she replied. “Tony started working here right before the farm opened for Labor Day weekend. A few weeks ago Axel and Tony were rearranging some boxes in the fruit bin area. They discovered they were both color-blind. I watched them laughing as they compared notes about the problems they encounter getting dressed. I could tell the similarities didn’t end there. Although Tony inherited Rosie’s dark eyes and hair, they share an identical cleft chin and a few mannerisms that I never noticed until they were working side by side.”

  “Did you know Rosie dated Axel?”

  Nina sighed. “Rosie never disclosed the name of Tony’s father. She said it was her first and only sexual experience, and I believed her. But it only takes one time to make a baby, doesn’t it?”

  Poor Nina. Losing her daughter could have crushed her spirit, despite the entry of her new grandson into the world.

  “Did Tony ever question you about his parents when he was younger?”

  “When he was little, I told him both his parents di
ed right after he was born. As he grew older, he naturally became more curious. When his fifth-grade teacher assigned the family tree project to his class, I finally admitted I had no idea who his father was.” Nina’s eyes met mine. “His tree only had branches on one side.”

  My heart filled with sorrow as I reflected on the pain Nina endured on a daily basis. But didn’t she say Tony recently learned about his father?

  “When did you tell Tony about your discovery?”

  “I kept silent for a while, but I’d watch them together whenever I could. I was struck by how their movements and gestures resembled one another. One night after closing, I bumped into Axel and blurted out my suspicions.”

  “Was he stunned?”

  “To put it mildly.” She grimaced. “At first, he denied it. Said it wasn’t possible. Case closed. So I drove home and tried to forget about it.”

  “That must have been difficult.”

  “Impossible. But then I noticed Axel watching Tony, too. One day, about a week before his death, he asked me to come to his office.”

  Nina lowered her voice and I moved nearer, not wanting to miss a word.

  “Axel confessed to secretly dating Rosie nineteen years ago. Thor Thorson had hired Rosie to help out at the candy shop. We were both pleased because Rosie planned to attend college, and we struggled to get by. Every extra bit of income was a godsend.”

  I could certainly relate to her financial struggles. The joy of having an academically-gifted daughter was tempered by the frustration of not being able to give her every opportunity to pursue her dreams.

  “I’d noticed Rosie and Axel chatting now and then,” Nina continued, “but the teens who worked at Apple Tree were a nice bunch of hard-working kids, and they got along well. Axel was a college sophomore so he was a couple years older than most of them. He’d drive up here on the weekends to help out. His father always planned on leaving the business to his sons.”