Tragic Toppings

by Jessica Beck

  “Not that we can see, but that doesn’t mean that whoever is hanging there is really dead. Grace, what if there’s the slightest chance they’re still alive? That’s even more reason to check on them, isn’t it?”

  Grace took a deep breath, and then nodded firmly. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  “You don’t have to, you know,” I said.

  She let out a breath, and then said, “No, I’m all right. Well, I’m not really, but I will be. You can count on me.”

  I nodded, took her hand, and as we walked toward the tree, as Grace looked up, she asked, “Do you think it’s someone we know?”

  “I still can’t tell from here, but there’s a good chance that it is.”

  I neared the body, being careful about where I stepped in case there were footprints, though the ground was mostly just dirt and gravel.

  As I got closer, I could finally tell for sure that it was a man.

  I was still ten feet away before I could make out the face.

  It was Tim Leander, our town handyman, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was long past any help we might have given him.

  The man was clearly dead.

  * * *

  I don’t know how long Grace and I stood there looking up at him, but the next thing I knew, there were footsteps behind us. Chief Martin, still dressed in his best suit, came running up to join us. “The dispatcher just called me,” he said as he neared us.

  “It’s Tim Leander,” I told him dully. It was finally sinking in that a man I truly liked and admired was dead, and there was an ache in my chest that felt as though someone had hit me.

  Chief Martin approached more cautiously and looked up at the handyman. “Who would want to kill him?” he asked softly. “It just doesn’t make any sense. The man didn’t have an enemy in all of April Springs. He’s done good work for me a dozen times over the years, and I’ve never heard a bad word spoken against him.”

  “I still can’t believe it,” I answered. Tim was a friend, and a frequent visitor to Donut Hearts. I’d miss seeing his smile, but it was going to be a long time until I’d be able to wipe the image of his dead body hanging from that tree branch and replace it with an image from a better time for all of us.

  Three squad cars were pulling up now, driving into the park and ignoring the footpaths entirely. I knew they had to do it, but it felt like an added violation of the sanctity of the park.

  I’d almost forgotten about Grace when she asked the police chief, “Is there any chance that it was suicide?”

  I started to answer when the chief beat me to it. “I don’t think it’s likely. He would have had to climb the tree, tie the rope around his neck, and then throw himself over. There are easier ways to die.”

  “I can’t think of many worse,” I answered.

  “Then you’re a lucky woman,” Chief Martin answered. “I can think of more than I even want to consider. Do you have anything else to add to that 911 call you two made?”

  “No,” I answered. “We were walking back home after eating at the Boxcar, and we found him hanging there.” I glanced at my watch, and suddenly remembered his date with Momma. “What are you doing back so early?”

  “Your mother had a headache,” he said curtly. It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it. “Why don’t you two wait back at the house?”

  “Will you be stopping by on your way out?” I asked. I wanted to know what he and his officers found out, even if it meant waiting up all night.

  “Not tonight,” he replied cryptically. I wondered how real my mother’s headache had been, or if it had just been an excuse to end a bad date early.

  “Come on, Suzanne,” Grace said as she tugged at my arm.

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to give up that easily, but I realized that I wasn’t going to learn anything else tonight, at least not from the police department. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

  We walked back to the house together, and Grace shivered as we neared the front steps.

  “Are you cold?” I asked.

  “Not from the temperature.” She tried to shake it off, and then said, “Listen, if you and your mom want to stay with me at my place tonight, I’ve got plenty of room at my house.”

  “Why would we want to do that?” I asked, honestly puzzled by the offer.

  “Come on, Suzanne, that tree isn’t far from your doorstep, and I don’t know how you’re ever going to get that image out of your head. I know I’m going to have nightmares about it for weeks, and I live down the road.”

  “Don’t worry about the two of us. We’ll be fine,” I said, certain that my mother would echo the sentiment. The evils of the world had come close to our home before, but we wouldn’t let them chase us away, even for one night. It was more than a house for us; it was our sanctuary, and we weren’t about to let anyone spoil it for us.

  “Well, don’t say I didn’t offer,” she said. “If you change your mind, any time, even in the middle of the night, you’re welcome there.”

  I stopped and squeezed her shoulder. “I appreciate that so much, and I’m sure Momma will, too. Would you like to come in?”

  “Maybe just for a second,” she said as her gaze went back to the crime scene.

  “Good enough,” I said. I didn’t want to keep her there any longer than it was comfortable for her, but I also didn’t want her leaving with a bad taste in her mouth, with memories of bodies and not the friendship we shared. My home needed to be a place of comfort and refuge for her as well, if I could help make it so.

  We walked up the steps of our cottage together and the porch light came on.

  “What happened?” Momma asked. She was still dressed in blue, and I marveled again at just how pretty she looked, though she was frowning in concern as she spoke.

  “How’s your headache?” I asked, ignoring her question for the moment.

  “Better,” she admitted. “Do you know who was hanging from the tree?”

  There was no use in trying to sugarcoat it, she’d find out sooner or later. “It was Tim Leander,” I said.

  Momma looked shaken by the news, and Grace and I raced up the stairs to support her. “Are you okay?” I asked her as I helped her to the porch swing.

  “I’m fine,” Momma said as she settled into it. “It’s just shocking, isn’t it? Tim fixed a flat tire for me just last week, did I tell you about that? I was about to call the auto club when he offered to change it for me, and when I tried to pay him, he refused to take any money. He told me that friendship was worth more than cash to him.” Momma looked as though she might cry at any moment. “Who would want to hurt Tim?”

  “The chief just asked me the same thing,” I said. “What really happened on your date, Momma?”

  She frowned again, this time for my benefit entirely. “We were having a fine time, but I got a headache, so we left, and I don’t care to discuss it any more.”

  “Does that mean we don’t get a minute-by-minute recap, then?” I asked.

  Grace tweaked my arm, but I ignored her. I wasn’t about to let Momma get away with blowing the chief of police off like that, after all they’d been through setting up their first date. Though it was clear to anyone who knew me that I wasn’t the man’s biggest fan, he at least deserved better than he’d gotten tonight.

  “Drop it, Suzanne.” The tone of her voice made it loud and clear that she was finished with the subject, maybe forever.

  I chose to ignore it. This was too important to just forget.

  “I will, if you promise never to say another word about my love life again,” I said. I knew it was an idle offer. There was no way she would ever agree to that, but maybe I could get her to see that it was important we discuss what had really happened that night. The worst thing that could happen in my opinion is that she might just give up and never take another chance again.

  Momma tried to stare me down, and I fully realized that look would make most people wilt, but I wasn’t one of them. I was pretty immune to it, having be
en desensitized over the years.

  She shook her head finally, and I heard her sigh. When she spoke again, the sternness of her previous tone was gone. “I honestly did have a headache,” Momma admitted. “It was crushing.”

  “And yet it’s gone now,” I said, making certain there was not a hint of mocking in my voice. I was on thin ice at the moment, and nobody knew it better than I did.

  She waved a hand in the air. “Who can explain these things?” she asked.

  “Are you going to try again soon?”

  Grace looked at me as though I’d lost my mind, but I wasn’t about to stop.

  “Perhaps in a few days,” she admitted. “I truly was having a good time when the headache came on so suddenly.” She paused, looked surprised to be admitting it, but then added, “I really was reluctant to end it so abruptly.”

  I hugged her, and as I pulled away, she asked me, “What was that for?”

  “You tried once, and you’re going to try again,” I said. “There’s nothing more that I can ask of you. I’m proud of you, Momma.”

  She looked puzzled by my explanation. “Nonsense. I’ve done nothing to be proud of.”

  “If it matters, I think you did, too,” Grace said.

  “You two are getting to be too much alike,” she said. After dismissing the thought, she asked, “Would either of you have room for some apple pie? I baked one this afternoon.”

  I smiled at her. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather share it with Chief Martin? He’s just over there, and I’m sure he can spare ten minutes for a slice of pie.”

  “Phillip has his hands full at the moment,” she said as she glanced briefly in the direction of the Patriot’s Tree. “Don’t worry, there will be other times, and other pies. For tonight, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather share a slice with than the two of you.”

  We each got our slices, and as we sat at the front table eating, the lights from outside were an unspoken presence that kept trying to violate the sanctity of our home. Death had come to April Springs again, too close for our comfort, but we would find a way to deal with it, as we did the other troubles in our lives.

  * * *

  Half an hour later, Grace stood and stretched, then said, “I’m going to take off, if you don’t mind. Thanks again for the pie.”

  “You’re most welcome, dear,” Momma said. She turned to me and said, “Suzanne, you should walk her to her car.”

  I got up and moved toward the door. “Come on, Grace. Let’s go.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I can manage just fine by myself.”

  “I’m sure you can, but I don’t mind.”

  “Fine. Good night,” she called out to Momma as we started out the door.

  “Sweet dreams,” Momma answered.

  Before we could go, she added, “Suzanne, don’t linger out there. The police are still working, and they don’t need you nosing around in their business.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said with a smile, and we both knew that I was clearly lying. I suddenly realized that Momma hadn’t been all that concerned about Grace getting an escort after all. She wanted to know what was happening at the Patriot’s Tree, and it was the only way she could ask me to check things out without openly encouraging me to meddle.

  I wouldn’t let her down.

  Once Grace and I were outside, I said, “See you tomorrow.”

  As I started back toward the Patriot’s Tree, Grace asked, “You’re really going back over there after what your mother just told you?”

  “Are you kidding? She practically begged me to check things out just now.”

  Grace frowned at that. “Odd, I didn’t hear anything like that.”

  I smiled. “That’s because you don’t speak “Momma.” You’re welcome to come with me again if you’d like.”

  “Why not?” she asked as she changed directions at the last second to join me. I hadn’t really meant to offer the invitation, and Grace had surprised me by taking me up on it. Perhaps she was dealing with it okay after all.

  As we approached, I was relieved to see that they’d cut Tim down from the tree, and his body was now gone. I’d been fond of the man, and I didn’t want or need another image like the one I’d seen earlier sticking in my mind.

  Chief Martin was standing to one side watching a pair of his officers scan the scene with bright handheld lights. I recognized one of them as Officer Grant, a good customer of mine and a budding friend, but I made no move to attract his attention. He was intent on what he was doing, no doubt scanning for clues, and I didn’t want the police chief to accuse me of distracting one of his officers while he was at work.

  When Grace and I walked up to him, the police chief glanced at his watch and whistled softly. “I’m impressed,” he said.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Why exactly are you impressed?”

  “It took you forty-seven minutes to come out to see what was going on. I was betting you’d be back in ten.”

  I offered him a grin. “I would have been, but Momma had baked a pie this afternoon, and you know how hard that is to resist.” It may have been mean of me to let him know that there was pie so close, but I wanted him to realize that Momma had originally meant it for him.

  “Any chance it’s cherry?” he asked, a wistful look on his face.

  “Apple,” I admitted.

  “Even better.”

  I nodded my agreement, and then I asked, “Have you found out anything about what happened to poor Tim?”

  He seemed to consider my question, and then said, “I could give you a line about an active police investigation, but what’s the use? We don’t know anything new. The doc’s called the medical examiner, and we’ve collected about all the evidence here we can. Whatever happened, it’s clear that Tim double-crossed somebody, and I’m guessing the killer lives in April Springs.”

  That assumption was beyond me. “How can you say that?”

  He shrugged. “Come on, the significance of the Patriot’s Tree hanging can’t be lost on you. It’s a spot reserved for traitors. It always has been, and I’m guessing it will be until folks forget what happened here someday.”

  I hadn’t even considered that, much to my dismay. Of course the location of the hanging was a symbol. But that begged the question, who had Tim betrayed?

  “That’s absolutely brilliant,” I said, not fully realizing that I’d said it aloud.

  He looked equally shocked by my admission. “Are you actually complimenting me, Suzanne?”

  I grinned at him. “I’m just as surprised as you must be. Thanks for sharing that, Chief.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replied. As Grace and I walked away, he added, “Tell your mother good night for me.”

  “I will,” I said.

  As soon as we were out of hearing range, Grace tugged at my arm and asked, “What was that all about?”

  I admitted, “The man deserved a compliment, and I gave him one. I didn’t see the significance of the tree in Tim’s hanging, but his insight was spot on. It’s the only reason for taking a chance and doing it out in the open that makes the slightest bit of sense. Somebody was sending a message that betrayal is not acceptable behavior. I just wish I knew who sent it.”

  “That makes two of us,” Grace said as we approached the house.

  Momma was standing on the front porch waiting for us.

  “I was coming right back,” I said. “You didn’t have to watch out for me.”

  “I wasn’t,” she said. “Suzanne, you have a telephone call.”

  “Is it Jake?” I asked.

  She bit her lower lip, and then said carefully, “Actually, it’s Max.”

  I shook my head. I knew why he was calling. The man hated having anyone upset with him, including his ex-wife. “Tell him I’ll call him back later,” I said. “I’m in no mood to deal with him tonight after what I’ve seen.”

  Momma wasn’t buying it, though. She pushed the telephone toward me and said, “You need to de
al with him, Suzanne.”

  If there was anyone in April Springs who was less a fan of my ex than I was, it had to be Momma. She wouldn’t urge me to take his call unless she thought it was necessary. “Hand me the telephone.”

  I took the phone from Momma and said, “This is Suzanne.”

  “It’s Max,” my ex said.

  “I gathered as much. What can I do for you, Max?”

  “Listen, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about what happened this afternoon.”

  I laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself, I was concerned about Emily. We aren’t married anymore. You don’t owe me any explanations, and even if you thought you did, I don’t need to hear them. We’re fine, okay?”

  “Okay, if you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure. Good night, Max.”

  “Night.”

  “What was that all about?” Grace asked, and I could see Momma wanted to hear the answer as well.

  “You know Max,” I said. “He doesn’t like it when anyone’s mad at him.”

  “Boys will be boys,” Grace said.

  Momma added, “And some of them will never become men.”

  SOUR CREAM DONUTS

  This is a good, solid recipe that really shows the depth of flavor in these donuts. We like these iced, but they’re good plain, too.

  INGREDIENTS

  • 2 cups all purpose flour

  • 1 teaspoon baking powder

  • ½ teaspoon baking soda

  • ½ teaspoon nutmeg

  • Dash of salt

  • ¼ cup sour cream

  • ¼ cup buttermilk

  • ½ cup sugar

  • 1 egg, beaten

  • 1 teaspoon vanilla

  DIRECTIONS

  First, beat the egg, and then add the sugar, buttermilk, sour cream, and vanilla. Mix thoroughly, then set aside. In a separate bowl, sift the flour, nutmeg, baking soda, baking powder, and salt together, then add to the egg mixture in thirds until it is all combined. Roll the dough out to ¼ to ½ inch thick, then cut rounds and holes. Fry in 360-degree canola oil for three minutes, turning halfway through, then place on paper towels to drain. Powdered sugar can be applied immediately, but wait until they cool to add icing and sprinkles.