by Jessica Beck
“What makes you think he didn’t just throw them away as soon as he got them?” Bryan asked, and I had to admit that I’d wondered the same thing myself.
“He wouldn’t do that,” she said. “If you all aren’t lying to me, I still believe that he hid them somewhere.”
“I’m telling you, we searched his place, and they weren’t there,” I said.
“What were you doing there in the first place?” she asked me, the suspicion clear in her voice. “What were you looking for?”
“We were helping the landlady, if you really must know,” I said, trying to add some irritation to my voice. “Bryan didn’t want to face it himself, and who could blame him? Grace and I were around, so we offered to lend a hand. It’s as simple as that.”
“And I went through the stuff they found, but there weren’t any letters,” Bryan said. “If that was really all of it.”
Before I could stop her, Grace took the bills from her pocket and handed them to Bryan. “As a matter of fact, we found these while we were cleaning the place up. We didn’t know who to give them to, but when we found out you were your brother’s executor, we wanted you to have it all.”
Bryan smiled and grabbed the carefully wrapped bills, then he tore the rubber bands from them. “Three grand, huh? What’s the real reason you didn’t turn this over to me when you were here the last time?”
I said quickly, “We could have taken that money to the police, but it’s not their business, is it?”
He jammed the bills into his pocket, then said, “You did the right thing.”
“What about my letters?” she asked us.
“I already told you,” I said. “We didn’t find them, and that’s the truth.”
“What else was with the cash, though?” Kaye asked. “Was there a packet there, too? It might not look like letters. You might not know what you had. Did you throw anything out that was with the money?”
“We found the cash, along with a scrap of paper and an old key that might go to anything,” I said. “That was all that he hid at his place.”
“Let’s see the key, and the paper, too,” Bryan demanded. “By all rights, they belong to me now.”
“They’re at my place,” Grace said, “but they won’t be of any use to you.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Bryan said. “I want them, and I mean right now.”
“First thing tomorrow is the best we can do,” I said. “We have other plans tonight.”
Bryan nodded. “Fine. Bring everything with you when you go to your donut shop tomorrow. What time do you open?”
“Six,” I said. I wasn’t about to admit how early I got there every day. Being alone with Bryan, even with Nan in the other room, was not something I ever desired.
“I just don’t understand. There had to be somewhere else he thought would be safe,” Kaye said. She looked at Grace and asked, “Were you keeping anything for him that might belong to me?”
Grace just shook her head. “Are you insane? He wouldn’t leave your precious letters with me for safekeeping, now would he?”
“Where does the key fit, then?” she asked petulantly.
“We don’t have a clue, and that’s the truth.”
Kaye took a few steps back, and then looked straight at me. “Suzanne, you’re not lying to me, are you?”
“I’ve told you nothing but the truth,” I said, and to my surprise, it was true this time.
“I don’t know who to believe,” she said, and then Kaye started to cry.
“Are you okay?” I asked her softly. I didn’t mean to show one of Grace’s rivals any sympathy, but it was tough to just stand there and watch her openly weeping.
“I’m fine,” she said through her tears, and then hurried back to her car, which was parked on the street in front of Bryan’s place, and drove away.
“Thanks for the cash, and for getting rid of her,” Bryan said. “Are you sure there wasn’t any more where this came from? You two didn’t take a finder’s fee or anything, did you?”
“We don’t steal,” I said, letting my voice grow cold. I didn’t like being accused of things I hadn’t done.
“Hey, don’t get things in a knot. I had to ask,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early. I have to take care of some business now, so you two need to go.”
He stepped back inside, and I heard the dead bolts locking shut behind him.
It appeared that Bryan Morgan had gotten everything he’d needed from us.
“What do we do now?” Grace asked. “That didn’t go as well as I’d hoped it would.”
“Well, nobody chased us off with a shotgun, so we’ve done worse in the past,” I said.
“True, but I don’t expect we made any friends, either.”
“That’s okay. We have enough friends,” I said. “When we’re looking for a murderer, we can’t always play nice.” I thought again about the prospect of Bryan coming to my donut shop, and then realized that until I got this case sorted out, I didn’t want to be alone with any of my suspects. “Do you feel like paying one more visit today?” I asked her.
“Suzanne, you’re the one doing me the favor, remember? I’ve got as much time as you need,” she said. As we got into her car, she added, “All you have to do is tell me where we’re going.”
“You might think I’m losing it, but I’m suddenly not all that excited about waiting until morning to talk to Nan. I thought we might see if we could catch her at home and clear the air between us right now.”
“That makes perfect sense to me,” Grace said. “After all, there’s safety in numbers.”
* * *
“Nan, it’s Suzanne Hart and Grace Gauge,” I said as I knocked on her door for the second time. “May we come in? We need to talk.”
I wasn’t even certain that she was home, but then she opened the door a crack, the chain firmly still in place. “Suzanne? What happened to you today? I didn’t know that we were going to be closed until I read that note on the door. Are you shutting down for good?”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I thought the chief was going to call you, but he must have gotten distracted. Grace and I were in a car accident yesterday, and I forgot to let you know what was going on.”
“Was it bad?” she asked, still standing just behind the partially closed door. Nan looked us both over, and clearly couldn’t see anything wrong with us. Was that a hint of suspicion in her expression? Goodness knows I’d seen it enough coming from other people.
“We’re fine,” I admitted, “but the car’s a wreck. May we come in?”
She hesitated, and I wasn’t even sure she’d let us in, but ultimately she shut the door, took the chain off, and let us inside. That was the extent of her hospitality, though. She didn’t offer us food, drink, or anything else, just two seats on her couch. “What can I do for you?”
“It’s about Peter Morgan,” I said, and I saw her stiffen.
“What about him?” she asked warily.
“Why didn’t you tell me initially that you knew him, Nan?” I asked. “You had plenty of opportunity, and yet I had to practically drag it out of you that you’d been his babysitter once upon a time.”
“I know a great many people, Suzanne. Do you feel entitled to know about every last one of them? I should warn you, it’s a fairly long list.”
“I don’t need the names of random strangers,” I said, doing my best to ignore her snippy tone, “but you might have mentioned that you knew the murder victim,” I said.
“So what? I used to babysit Peter when he was young,” Nan said. “Why is that such a big deal? Rose White did, too. Have you interrogated her yet?”
“Rose? How is that possible? It’s too far a stretch to believe that both of you watched over the same boy.”
“It’s not that big a coincidence when you know the reason why,” Nan said. “Rose and I are first cousins, and we always used to do those jobs together, especially when the child was a handful. And trust me; Peter
was almost too much for both of us together.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that you were Rose’s cousin?” I asked, incredulous about the amount of information that Nan had chosen to keep to herself. “I even asked you about her, and you just said that you’d drifted apart.”
“Frankly, I didn’t see that it was any of your business,” Nan said. “And for your information, family can split up just as much as friends can.”
“Did you date Peter, too?” Grace asked so softly that I doubted Nan had heard her.
“What? Have you lost your mind? Of course not.” She really did look outraged by the question.
“We already know that Rose did,” I said. “It’s natural to figure that you might have done it yourself.”
Nan shook her head, looking angrier by the second. “Is that what you think of me? He was just a boy I looked after once. That’s sick.”
“He didn’t stay a boy though, did he? Nan, we’re just asking questions, not making accusations,” I said as calmly as I could.
“That’s not how it sounds to me.” She stood, and moved to the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, this interrogation is over.”
“We’re not interrogating you,” I said as calmly as I could manage. “We’re just having a conversation, like where were you the night Peter was killed?”
I knew that I’d pushed her too hard the second I’d said it. “You’re accusing me of murder now? I’m on your suspect list?” I thought she might have a stroke, but I couldn’t lie to her.
“Nan, you had two important connections we didn’t know about, and it looks to the world as though you were hiding both of them from us. Why don’t you make this easy and just tell us your alibi, and then you’ll be off the hook?”
“And you expect things to just go back to normal if I tell you?” Nan asked. It was her turn to be incredulous.
“Of course I do. We’re all adults here. And after all, we’re just talking. Nobody’s pointing any fingers at anyone else. Why wouldn’t things stay the same between us?”
She looked mad enough to spit fire. “Because I’ve had enough of your questions, your outrageous working hours, and the fact that I constantly smell as though I took a bath in lard.”
“We use canola oil in our fryer,” I corrected her automatically.
“Good-bye, Suzanne. You may consider this my notice.”
Grace and I started to leave, but I couldn’t help myself. I paused, and then said, “If you don’t mind, I’d still love to hear your alibi.”
“I was here, alone, trying to get enough sleep so I didn’t cut off a finger working at your donut shop when anyone with any sense at all would be home in bed, alone or otherwise. I’m sure you don’t believe me, but frankly, I don’t care, since I plan to never take another step inside Donut Hearts as long as I live. Good day.”
Once we were out in the hallway, I turned to Grace and asked, “Did she really just quit working for me? What happened to a two-week notice?”
“She didn’t work there that long, so you honestly can’t expect her to give you any notice at all, after that, can you?”
I shrugged. “What happened to common courtesy?”
“It was never that common to begin with, and if you look at it from her point of view, I’m sure she feels justified acting the way she did. Suzanne, you were kind of rough on her.”
“I just can’t stand being lied to,” I said.
“Welcome to my world,” Grace said.
I thought about it, and knew that she was right. I probably had pushed Nan harder than I should have, and someday I’d have to apologize for it. At least if she hadn’t been the one to kill Peter. “Hey, on the bright side, Emma can come back full-time now.”
Grace stopped me as we walked to her car. “Suzanne, you didn’t goad Nan like that on purpose, did you?”
“We needed answers,” I admitted. “We can’t afford to tiptoe anymore.”
Grace wouldn’t let it go, though. “That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it. I’m asking if you forced her into quitting so you could have Emma back. Be honest with yourself before you answer me.”
“No, it never crossed my mind at the time,” I said honestly. “I get so used to Chief Martin asking me intrusive questions that sometimes I forget how it can feel if you’re not used to that kind of pressure from someone. If I had it to do over again, I would be quite a bit more subtle, but I stand by what I said. The questions needed to be asked.”
“Okay, I can buy that. One question, then. Are we satisfied with her answers?” Grace asked.
“Nan is still a long shot, but I’m willing to take her off the list for now.”
“Were her responses that convincing to you?” Grace asked as we started walking to her car again.
“No, but she was as mad as I could ever imagine her being, and she still managed to usher us out of her place without resorting to any threats or violence. I know it’s nothing a prosecutor could use in a court case, but it’s good enough for me. If I had to guess, I’d say that Nan isn’t our killer.”
“How nice that might have been to know before you had to slap her around a little bit,” Grace said.
“Hey, I didn’t lay a finger on her,” I protested.
“Not with your hands, but can you say the same thing about your words?”
“Like I said, I’ll apologize later and send her a dozen donuts,” I said. “Happy?”
“You’d better make it roses, or carnations, or something that blooms.”
“You don’t think she’d like donuts as a gift after what she said about my treats?” I asked with a smile.
“I’m not sure that you should push it any more than you already have,” Grace said. As she did, she stifled a yawn. “I can’t believe I’m so tired. To be honest with you, I didn’t sleep all that well last night.”
“Was it because you were in a strange bed?” I asked as we got into her car. “I slept like a champ myself.”
“No, it was more because you fought the covers like they were trying to strangle you, Suzanne, and then you started snoring. I can’t do that again. Tonight, I’m sleeping in my own bed.”
That was not going to happen, not if I had anything to say about it. “Grace, there’s still a killer on the loose. Is that the best idea in the world?”
She nodded firmly. “After we stop and get a bite to eat on the way, I’m taking you home, and then I’m going back to my place for tonight.”
I didn’t want her to be alone, and I knew that Momma would feel the same way. “Just wait until I pack a bag when we get to the cottage, and I’ll come with you.”
Grace shrugged. “It’s not necessary, you know.”
“Let’s just say that it’s something I want to do,” I replied.
“Fine, but you’re sleeping in the guest room by yourself. I need my sleep tonight.”
“Hey, I’m not the only one who snores.”
She smiled and said, “I might, but mine are certainly more delicate than yours.”
“You’re entitled to your opinion, but I’m not conceding that I’m hard to sleep with, or that I snore, too.”
“You don’t have to, Suzanne. I’m sure your mother and Max will both testify, if I need to prove it in court.”
I gave up. I never thought of myself as someone who snored, but then again, I wouldn’t be awake to hear myself doing it, would I? Max had teased me about it when we’d been married, but I hadn’t taken him seriously. Evidently the blanket thing was new.
“Okay, let’s concede that neither one of us is perfect and leave it at that,” I said. “Now, do you want to tell my mother that we won’t be eating or sleeping there tonight, because I don’t want to make that particular call.”
“Coward,” Grace said.
“I’m not denying it.”
She frowned at me, and then pulled her car over into an empty parking lot. “Hand me the telephone before I lose my nerve.”
EASY-AS-PIE CHERRY TREATS
&nbs
p; When I’m in a rush and don’t have the time or energy to make one of my tried-and-true donut recipes, it’s amazing how a little puff pastry and some cherry pie filling can do the trick in making a child smile. Try these sometime, even if you’re not in a hurry!
INGREDIENTS
1 sheet Pepperidge Farm puff pastry dough (½ of 17.3 oz. pack)
1 can (approximately 20 ozs.) cherry pie filling, or your choice of any fruit filling.
1 egg, beaten, combined with 1 tablespoon water.
INSTRUCTIONS
Heat the oven to 400 degrees F. Let the puff pastry dough warm on the counter, and then open. Cut the sheet into matching pairs of your choice, being sure to have the tops and bottoms duplicate in size. You can use fun cookie cutters for these shapes as well. Spread filling out on bottom sections, then cover and crimp the tops to seal. Brush with the egg wash mix, then poke a few holes in the tops of the pastries to let the steam escape as they bake.
Bake 20–25 minutes, or until golden brown.
Yield: 4–8 small pastry treats, depending on the sizes and shapes you cut.
CHAPTER 18
“Are you certain you have everything you need?” Momma asked me again as I finished packing a small overnight bag to take with me to Grace’s house.
“If I forget anything, I’m just down the road. Are you sure you don’t mind being alone tonight? You could always come stay with us. We can make it into a sleepover.”
“No, I’ll leave that to you two. In all honesty, I don’t know how you sleep in that bed of yours. Even the lumps have lumps.”
“What can I say? It suits my body.”
“And no one else’s,” Momma said.
As I headed for the door, she caressed my cheek lightly. “You are a good friend to Grace, Suzanne. She’s lucky to have you.”
“Honestly, I’m lucky to have both of you in my life. Momma, I don’t tell you nearly often enough, but I love you. You know that, right?”
“I do,” she said, with the trace of a tear in one eye, “But it’s always good to hear, and I never grow tired of it. I love you, too.”
“Then I guess I’ll go,” I said.
“Is Grace waiting for you outside?” Momma asked as we walked down the stairs from my room.
