Powdered Peril

by Jessica Beck

  I took it, and saw that the edges were strong and rigid. It was the same size as my regular donuts, but the heart shape was quite pretty.

  Nan explained, “You should have at least one donut heart for sale every day. At least that’s what I think.”

  “It’s an intriguing idea,” I said. “Thank you.”

  “I got a smaller cutter for the center hole, too,” she said, and presented that as well.

  “Great. We can make filled donuts, and rings as well. That really was very thoughtful of you.” I felt like a real heel.

  I started the yeast donut dough, and as I did, Nan managed to make herself busy around the kitchen. We didn’t speak of our earlier conversation, and that was fine with me. Nan had given me her answers, and I was going to have to accept them, at least until I found out they weren’t true.

  As the yeast dough proofed, I started making notes in my recipe book about ways to use the new cutters. Emma and I had always taken our breaks together outside, no matter what the weather, but Nan had declined, choosing instead to work at a Word Search Puzzle at one of the tables instead. When the proofing timer went off, I started working out how to incorporate my initial design. It took a few tries to drop the hearts into the oil without them collapsing in on themselves, but once I got the knack of it, two dozen plain donuts came out rather nicely.

  After they were iced immediately upon removal from the fryer, I took a bite of one and smiled. “It tastes just as good as the others.”

  “And why wouldn’t it?” Nan asked curiously.

  “You never know in this business what is going to make a difference. These are good. It’s going to be nice offering them.”

  “We can fill the whole donuts with raspberry filling,” Nan suggested. I must have frowned a little at the suggestion. Nan asked, “What’s wrong with that idea?”

  “Do we really want people to bite into a heart and have red filling ooze out?”

  Nan shrugged. “It might be off-putting at that,” she admitted. “Still, you could use lemon or custard if you’d like.”

  “Why don’t we start with lemon filling?”

  We finished working, making rounds with the rest of the dough. I had rolling cutters that allowed me to cut out a great many donut rounds in the same time it took me to cut out only a few of the hearts. They would make a nice accent shape to what I usually offered, but they’d never replace the rounds.

  Once the sales shelves were stocked, we were ready to open, though we were still ten minutes ahead of schedule. I thought about delaying our opening, and then decided against it. If I couldn’t open my own donut shop capriciously every now and then, what was the point of being my own boss?

  In the end, it didn’t matter. None of my customers came in early. Apparently I’d already trained them too well to go by my new hours.

  * * *

  “Good morning, sunshine,” my ex-husband, Max, said as he came into the donut shop a little past our regular opening time.

  “What are you doing up this early?” I asked, in total and complete shock. I couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d walked in wearing a dress. “Or have you even been to sleep yet?”

  He looked smug as he said, “I’ve changed, Suzanne. No more late nights for me. I’m turning over a new leaf.”

  “Who is she?” I asked. It all suddenly began to make sense. My ex-husband was a handsome devil, stress the devil part, and I knew that he could make mountains move if he wanted to impress a new woman in his life. Unfortunately, he required a constant stream of them, since he kept getting bored and discarded them nearly as quickly as he attained them.

  “What are you talking about, Suzanne?”

  “Max, I know you too well to believe that you’re doing this on your own. There’s a woman behind it.”

  He shrugged. “What can I say? Michelle likes the mornings, and I’ve really gotten to like them myself. Hey, it’s a good thing that I can still change, right?”

  During our marriage, I’d begged him to keep more normal hours so we could actually do things together, but he’d claimed that his inner muse wouldn’t allow it. I could have taken a jab at him right then over his sudden and unexpected change of heart, but I was finally getting past all of that. While he still wasn’t my favorite person in the world, I didn’t wish him ill, either. Well, not all of the time, anyway.

  “Congratulations,” I said with my brightest smile. “It sounds like you’re growing up.”

  He held his hands up as though he were warding off evil. “Hey, let’s not go too far. I’m willing to admit that I can change, but I’m not all that sure I’m maturing.” His grin was infectious; it always had been. There was an easy charm to my handsome ex-husband; even I couldn’t deny it.

  “Baby steps, right?” I asked. “Can I get you something, or did you just come by to show off that you were out and about this early?”

  “Actually, I’d like two coffees to go, and four plain cake donuts.”

  As I filled his order, I said, “You really are changing. No glazes, icing, or sprinkles?”

  He patted his stomach. “No, I’m trying to lose a few pounds. I’ve got some auditions coming up in a few weeks in L.A., and I want to be ready.”

  As he paid for his order, I said, “Good luck.”

  “Do you really mean that?” he asked.

  “Of course I do. I’m glad you’ve found someone.”

  He nodded, and I saw the trace of a smile on his lips. “That’s good to hear. Suzanne, I’m sorry about what happened between us. You deserved better than I gave you.”

  Wow, he really was growing up. “It’s okay, Max. It’s water under the bridge, over the dam, and all of that.”

  “I mean it, though,” he said. “I’m glad you’ve got someone in your life, too.”

  “From the sound of it, we’re both doing all right for ourselves,” I said.

  Max nodded, and then left the shop.

  As he was going, George came into Donut Hearts. Max held the door open for him as he entered, and George did a double take as he stepped through.

  “Was that Max? What was he doing here this early?”

  “He’s got a date,” I said.

  “At six-fifteen?” George asked as he stared at his watch. “It had to be a sleepover.”

  I laughed. “Is that what you crazy kids are calling it these days?”

  George turned the slightest shade of red, and I killed my laughter. I didn’t want to tease him any more. “You’re up early, Mr. Mayor.”

  “It’s George, please,” he said as he took a seat at the counter. “The only folks around here who call me Mr. Mayor are the ones who want something from me.”

  As I got him a cup of coffee and a donut, I asked, “How do you know I don’t want something myself?”

  He took a bite of donut, followed it up with a sip of coffee, and then said, “Because you wouldn’t beat around the bush about it, Suzanne. You’d come right out and ask me.”

  “True, I’ve never been known for my subtlety. How’s the job going? Momma kind of hung it on you at the last minute, didn’t she?” My mother had been the leading candidate throughout the election until she decided that George would make a better mayor. She ran a silent write-in campaign behind my back, and no one but George was more surprised than I was when he won the job.

  My good friend shrugged. “Most days I’m grateful that she did. I’ve been able to make some big changes already, and I’m just getting started.”

  “Glad to hear it,” I said. “What demons will you be battling today?”

  “I’m going through zoning waiver applications before the council meets this morning,” he admitted.

  “Yes, that must be exciting stuff,” I said as I topped off his coffee. It was good having George back in the place, and I hoped things would settle down enough for him to spend some real time taking up his regular spot at my counter.

  “You’d be surprised,” he said as he finished his donut.

  “How abo
ut another one? It’s on the house.”

  “We both know that I can’t,” he said as he reached into his wallet and hauled out another dollar. “But I’m still a tad hungry. Make this one strawberry iced.”

  I grabbed one for him and laughed. “Living on the edge, aren’t you?”

  “Hang on a second. I changed my mind.”

  “Hey, I was just teasing, George.” Wow, had he lost his sense of humor under the stress of his office?

  “That’s not it. What are those?” He was pointing to the donut hearts I’d just made.

  “They’re brand-new. What do you think? Are they too cutesy?” If anyone would give me his real opinion about them, it was George.

  “Seeing them there, I kind of wonder why you never made them before. I’ll take one of the filled ones, if you don’t mind. Lemon sounds great to me.”

  I got him one, and watched him smile when he picked it up and took a bite. “Just as good as ever,” he admitted. “I like these. You should make more.”

  “I would, but it’s a pain to cut them individually by hand,” I admitted.

  “Don’t you cut all of them yourself every morning?” He looked surprised by my admission.

  “Sure, but I have a cutting roller made out of aluminum with the shapes raised on them. I can cut a full batch of donuts in the time it takes me to make half a dozen of these.”

  “That makes sense,” George said. He finished his second donut, and then asked, “Is there any way I can get this to go?”

  “I can transfer it to a paper cup, or you can just take the mug and bring it back the next time you come in. I trust you. After all, you’re the mayor.”

  “I am, at that.” He stood, and then shook his head.

  “What’s wrong, did I forget something?” I asked.

  “No, but I did. How’s the investigation going? I’ve gotten so caught up in my new job that I forgot about my old one.” George had helped me out in the past with my investigations, and I’d paid him in coffee and donuts. It had been an arrangement that had suited us both. I got excellent inexpensive labor, and George got to feel useful again after his retirement. The donuts were just icing. I hoped that someday we could go back to our arrangement.

  “That’s okay. I know how busy you’ve been.”

  He sat back down. “Never too busy for my friends,” he said. “Tell me what you’ve been up to, Suzanne.”

  After I brought him up to speed, I was surprised to see him smiling at me. “What’s so funny, George?”

  “You never were one to waste time, were you?” he asked. “I can’t believe how busy you’ve been.”

  “Grace is holding it together, and to be honest with you, I’m trying to get this murder solved before she falls apart. We’ve had to ask some tough questions, and it couldn’t be easy to hear the answers we’ve been getting.”

  George nodded. “It must be tough on her.” He was clearly about to say something else when the front door of the shop opened, and two men in business suits came in.

  “Mr. Mayor, we figured we might find you here.”

  George didn’t look at all pleased that he’d been found. “What made you come to that conclusion, Anthony?”

  “We checked your apartment, but you were already gone,” another one said. “We need to talk before the meeting. It’s important.”

  “I’ll be in my office in ten minutes,” George said flatly. “We can talk then.”

  They were startled by his response, but one finally managed to find his tongue. “Yes, of course. That would be fine. We’ll see you there.”

  After they were gone, I said, “Wow, you don’t pull any punches, do you?”

  “They expect business as usual, but the sooner they realize that there’s a new sheriff in town, the better off everyone will be.” He picked his mug up again, then stood. “Sorry, I wish I could stay longer.”

  “You’ve got important work to do,” I said.

  “Don’t remind me.”

  After he was gone, Nan popped out of the back. “Was that the mayor?”

  “Yes, he’s an old friend,” I admitted. “Do you know him?”

  “No, not personally, but I wouldn’t mind meeting him.” There was more than a little casual interest in her statement, and I wondered if my assistant might not have a little crush on our new mayor.

  “The next time he comes in, I’ll bring you out front,” I said, though I wasn’t really sure how I felt about the prospect of getting them together. I probably didn’t need to worry, though. It appeared that George and his new secretary were getting along just fine, and I didn’t want to have any part in spoiling what could be a budding romance between them.

  Nan smiled, and then went back into the kitchen. I kept looking outside, wondering where all of my customers were. It happened that way sometimes, when folks seemed to decide to take a break from donuts all at the same time. I knew that it was just a coincidence, but it couldn’t keep me from feeling a little paranoid anyway.

  By ten, things began to pick up, and when we locked the front door at eleven, we’d nearly made up for the earlier lull.

  Not a single heart-shaped donut was left in the case.

  Maybe Nan was on to something, but only time would tell.

  LIGHT AND AIRY BAKED CAKE DONUTS

  I came up with this recipe and wasn’t sure what to call it, so I decided to be literal and just say what they are. These are delicious as they are, but when they’re topped with sweet orange marmalade, they hit another level entirely!

  INGREDIENTS

  MIXED

  1 egg, beaten

  ½ cup sugar, white granulated

  ½ cup buttermilk

  1⁄8 cup canola oil

  1 tablespoon butter, melted

  1 teaspoon vanilla extract

  SIFTED

  1 cup flour, unbleached all-purpose

  1 teaspoon baking powder

  ¼ teaspoon nutmeg

  1⁄8 teaspoon salt

  EXTRAS

  Sweet orange marmalade as a topping

  INSTRUCTIONS

  In one bowl, beat the egg thoroughly, then add the sugar, buttermilk, canola oil, melted butter, and vanilla extract. In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, nutmeg, and salt. Add the dry ingredients to the wet, mixing well until you have a smooth consistency.

  Using a cookie scoop, drop walnut-sized portions of batter into small muffin tins or your donut maker, and bake at 365 degrees F for 6–10 minutes, or until golden brown. Top with marmalade while the donuts are hot.

  Yield: 6–10 small donuts.

  CHAPTER 12

  “I’m not too early, am I?” Grace asked when she knocked on the front door of the donut shop a few minutes after I’d closed.

  “No, you’re right on time. I have to balance out the register, and then I’ll be ready to go.”

  “Is she still back there?” Grace asked in a hushed tone.

  “No, Nan’s already gone,” I admitted. “Why do you ask?”

  Grace shrugged, but there was no denying how relieved she looked by the news. “Her name just keeps coming up in our investigation. It’s kind of odd, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Do you think she actually might have had something to do with Peter’s murder?” I asked. “I had a long conversation with her this morning, and it’s looking less and less like coincidence that she’s involved. She was Peter’s babysitter when he was young, did you know that?”

  “No, not a clue. Do we know that it’s actually true?”

  I admitted that I didn’t, and she followed up with another question. “How about her relationship with Rose White? Did she explain that to your satisfaction?”

  “They were best friends who had a falling-out,” I answered.

  Grace wasn’t buying that, though. “If that’s true, why would Rose still have a photo in her apartment that shows the two of them together? That certainly seems odd to me.”

  “Maybe,” I admitted. “You’re not a big fan o
f my new assistant, are you?”

  “I don’t know if I am or not. I just think we need to dig a little deeper, and get someone who can verify what she’s told you.”

  I thought about Nan, and how much I still didn’t know about her. Could she have been involved? I really couldn’t say one way or the other, something that was very unsettling for me. “I’ll keep my eye on her,” I said.

  “I’m serious, Suzanne.”

  “So am I,” I admitted. The money balanced beautifully, something I was always grateful for, and as I made out the deposit, I asked, “What are we going to do with seventeen donuts?”

  “I’ll take one off your hands, and some coffee, too, if you have any left,” she said.

  “Help yourself,” I said as I poured her coffee in a to-go cup.

  “Why don’t we bring the donuts along with us,” she said. “You know how good they are at greasing wheels.”

  “They are tough to say no to,” I admitted. “We’re heading back to Union Square, right?”

  “You bet. I want to talk to Henry Lincoln and find out what was going on.”

  “Do you think he’ll open up to us?” I asked. It always amazed me how willing folks were to talk to us about the most intimate things.

  “With your donuts as a gift, how can he say no?”

  * * *

  “Mr. Lincoln? Do you have a minute?” We’d driven to Union Square straightaway, and I was relieved to find Peter’s former business partner in his office. Lincoln was a short, heavyset man, with a carefully tailored suit that didn’t quite manage to hide his build. We’d chased suspects down in the past, and it was never an easy thing to do. Worse yet, after we found some of them, they still refused to answer our questions. Without badges, Grace and I had to rely on our charm, and my donuts, too.

  I was always glad when we had the treats with us.

  “Are those donuts?” Lincoln asked, spying the dozen I had with me. I’d left the rest in Grace’s car, just in case we needed them for something else.

  “That’s right, and they’re all for you.”

  He wasn’t sure what to make of that. “And you’re just giving them to me, why exactly?” He looked at us both carefully, and then his gaze lingered on Grace. “I know you. You were Peter’s girlfriend, weren’t you?”