by Jessica Beck
I walked into my donut shop and saw that nearly all of our leftover donuts had been consumed by our makeshift crowd. A great deal of the tension I’d seen earlier had begun to ease. I knew that my meager offerings wouldn’t erase what they’d seen, but at least it might help them forget, at least for a moment or two.
“Is everyone feeling better?” I asked.
As though they were all in school, the kids turned to me en masse and said in a semblance of unison, “Thank you, Mrs. Hart.”
“Actually, you can all call me Suzanne,” I said. A few of the mothers frowned at the familiarity, but I didn’t care. I wanted these kids to feel safe and welcome in my shop, and if I stepped on a few adult toes doing it, so be it.
“What do we owe you?” Sandy asked as she approached me, digging into her huge purse.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house,” I said, making it loud enough for everyone to hear.
“But we had chocolate milk, too,” she protested. “The donuts may have been extras, but the milks weren’t.”
“Leave something in the tip jar if you feel like you have to, and we’ll be square,” I said. I’d originally put it there to help Emma with her college expenses, but now that she was living at home again I’d have to find another way to put it to good use. I just knew that I wouldn’t feel right keeping it for myself, or even splitting it with my assistant. There were no worries, though. I was certain that I’d find a good cause for it if I just put my mind to it.
I saw that Jake was back, but he didn’t come outside. I stepped out, and the second I saw his face, I knew that it was bad news.
“He’s dead, isn’t he?” I asked.
“I’m sorry, Suzanne.”
I felt something inside die a little. “Do they have any idea who might have done it?”
He shook his head, and I felt a rage begin to boil for whoever had taken my friend away from all of us.
“The chief needs me over there, but I thought you should know,” he said as he gave me a tender hug before he left.
When I walked back inside, I did my best to smile, even though I was shattered by the unbelievable news. “If we’re all finished eating, I’d appreciate it if you all would do something for me,” I asked loudly.
“Anything,” Terri said. “Just name it. Would you like Sandy and me to stay behind and help clean up?”
“That won’t be necessary, but thanks for the offer.”
“Then what can we do?” Sandy asked.
“I want you all to go out and try to have a lovely afternoon,” I said with my brightest smile. It was tough to do, but the kids deserved it.
It was a relief to see so many smiles coming back at me. I was still in shock about James’s murder, and I knew that the truth of the matter was that it hadn’t even hit me yet, but I had made up my mind to be brave for these kids, and I was going to do exactly that, even if it crushed me. A few mothers put money in the tip jar, though I couldn’t see what they were contributing, nor did I care.
After they were all gone, Emma said, “I’ll get started on these dishes.”
I shook my head as I said, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be happy to do them myself. Emma, thanks for sticking around to help out. I appreciate it.”
“Is it really true? How is James doing?” she asked earnestly.
“I’m afraid that he’s dead,” I answered. I looked around the dining area, and realized that the mess might be exactly what I needed to take my mind off of what had just happened. “Now take off before I change my mind.”
She was gone in an instant, and I locked the door behind her.
In fifteen minutes I had the dishes done, the floor swept, and the counter and tabletops wiped down, but there was still no sign of Jake. I decided not to wait for him in the shop, since a few folks had already come by and knocked to get in while I’d been cleaning up. There were two donuts left, both in the heart shape of a cutter I’d gotten from my temporary employee, Nan Winters, and I’d saved them just for him. He hadn’t had one of the new shapes of donut yet, and I wanted him to get at least one while he was in town.
I took a seat at the table out in front of the shop and watched the police move with amazing efficiency as they examined the crime scene. James’s body was gone, but his portable blacksmithing equipment was still there—and his fire pit as well, still sending up wisps of smoke every now and then. Why would someone ever want to kill him? It had to be a heated argument, no pun intended. After all, it wasn’t likely that someone had planned to stab him in broad daylight with dozens of eyewitnesses around in the park. That meant that it was either done in passion, or because the opportunity presented itself. Whoever had killed him had the guts of a cat burglar, and I didn’t envy the police chief as he tried to catch the culprit.
I was still waiting for Jake when I noticed someone walking toward me from the storefront closest to mine.
What did Gabby Williams want with me, and why did she look so upset?
I had a feeling that I was about to find out, and what was more, I was pretty sure that I wasn’t going to like it. I had to fight the impulse to run away in the opposite direction the second I saw her bearing down on me, but I held my ground as she neared me.
“I just don’t understand it. Why did you have to kill him, Suzanne?” Gabby shouted as she got closer, and I knew that my initial instincts to escape had been right on the money.
I wasn’t sure why Gabby was accusing me of murder, but I knew that I had to nip it in the bud before the story spread all over April Springs. I’d been convicted in the court of public opinion before, and I had no desire to ever revisit the experience again.…
ST. MARTIN’S PAPERBACKS TITLES BY JESSICA BECK
Glazed Murder
Fatally Frosted
Sinister Sprinkles
Evil Éclairs
Tragic Toppings
Killer Crullers
Drop Dead Chocolate
Powdered Peril
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
POWDERED PERIL
Copyright © 2012 by Jessica Beck.
Excerpt from Illegally Iced copyright © 2012 by Jessica Beck.
All rights reserved.
For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
www.stmartins.com
eISBN: 9781466807198
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / September 2012
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
