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Tragic Toppings

Page 6

by Jessica Beck


  Makes 6–8 donuts and holes

  CHAPTER 5

  Momma moved to the couch and picked up the latest mystery novel she’d been reading. She’d gotten interested in crafting mysteries, and was devouring them at an alarming pace. “Don’t they all kind of run together if you read them so quickly?” I asked.

  “Nonsense. This series is about candles, the last one I read featured quilts, and the next series I’m tackling centers around cardmaking. They couldn’t be any different.” She set the book aside. “I’m happy that Emily’s turned up, but we’re still left with poor Timothy’s murder. The two of them had a special bond, you know.”

  “Tim and Emily? I didn’t know that.”

  She nodded. “He’s been an honorary uncle to her since she was born. Tim and Emily’s father were friends since they were boys, and Tim had looked out for her ever since.”

  “How did I not know that?” I asked.

  She smiled slightly at me. “You don’t know everything that happens in April Springs.”

  “Hey, I’m just glad that one of us does.”

  Momma sat there for a moment, and then said softly, “I’m going to miss Tim.”

  “The town’s going to miss him, and I am, too,” I agreed. “I don’t know what we’re going to do without someone to take care of things around here.”

  Momma waved a sheet of paper in the air. “Perhaps we won’t have to. I found this in the mailbox when I got home.”

  I took the flyer from her and read it.

  “Handy Andy at your service, new to April Springs. I’m bonded, licensed, and suited to do any home repair, from wet basements to leaky roofs. If you want a real dandy, it’s time to call Andy.”

  There was a phone number below it, and a pencil sketch of a man holding a toolbox dashing around.

  It was unsettling reading the advertisement after what had happened to Tim. How odd that we learned of a new handyman the same day our old one was murdered. Was Handy Andy’s timing one of the biggest coincidences of all time? I couldn’t help wondering if there was the slightest chance that the new handyman had decided to eliminate his competition before he got started with his new business in April Springs. On the face of it, it sounded like total nonsense, but Tim was dead, and someone had killed him. I couldn’t ignore any suspects in my search for the truth, no matter how trivial their motive might be. Tomorrow, I was going to give Andy a call and see how much he knew about Tim Leander’s demise.

  In the meantime, I needed to get to bed if I was going to get any sleep at all before it was time to make my donuts yet again. I’d been hoping for a call from Jake before bedtime, but if he was somewhere off the beaten path, he might not even have any cell phone reception. For the moment, I’d have to be content that I had a boyfriend, someone who cared deeply about me, and a man that I cherished in return. I’d gone to sleep plenty of nights with nothing but hopeless despair in my heart, so nodding off now should be a snap.

  * * *

  I was awakened by my telephone the next morning at 1:29, a full minute before I had to get up.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Jake said, and I felt the sleep wash away from me.

  “Jake. I miss you.” His voice sounded a bit hoarse, as though he’d spent more than a little time yelling the day before. I just hoped he wasn’t getting sick.

  “I miss you, too,” he said after clearing his throat. It was much better now, and I realized that I’d probably overreacted. I had a tendency to do that when we were apart. “Why don’t we do something about that?”

  There was a happy tone to his voice now, a bit playful. “What happened with your case? I thought you were trying to catch a train robber?” I said.

  I could hear his grin even over the phone. “Well, ma’am, we got a posse together and tracked those varmints down,” he said in his best western drawl.

  This was great news. “How on earth did you find them?”

  “We utilized excellent police investigating techniques in our pursuit of the suspects, and took advantage of all the benefits modern science has to offer to today’s law enforcement agencies.”

  “So, you got lucky?” I asked with a laugh.

  “Mostly we just followed the trail of broken branches and bushes. Neither one of this pair could be considered an excellent woodsman, so tracking them down was just a matter of time.”

  “Where were they hiding?” I asked. I loved it when Jake was in a good mood, and he was practically giddy as he spoke.

  “There’s an abandoned hunting camp deep in the woods, and we found them huddled around a fire trying to stay warm. All the wood around them was green, and they were so desperate, they were just about to start burning money when we got to them. If I didn’t know any better, I could swear they were almost happy to see us when we showed up. They didn’t even put up a fight.”

  “I thought they were on four-wheelers. What ruined their getaway?” I asked, keeping an eye on the clock. It was too precious having time with Jake before work, and if I had to push harder at the donut shop to be ready to open in time, then so be it.

  “Turns out they wrecked one of their four-wheelers trying to get back to the highway, and one of the bandits broke his leg in the process. That was bad enough, but then the other machine wouldn’t carry both of them and their loot. It broke down, and they barely managed to get to the camp before they wore themselves out. They’re both in custody; one in the Buncombe County jail, and the other in the hospital in Asheville, and if you ask me, the two of them needed a little time apart anyway after their big adventure together.”

  “And you woke up early just to tell me before I had to go to work? That is so sweet.”

  “Don’t give me too much credit,” he said, laughing. “I haven’t even been to bed yet.” He paused for a moment, and then said, “Suzanne, I know you need to get going, but I wanted to ask you something before you headed off for work.”

  “Fire away,” I said as I got up and started making my bed.

  “Do you have any plans this afternoon?”

  I wanted to tell him about Tim, and my team’s impromptu investigation into his murder, but I didn’t have the heart to ruin our chat. Besides, we hadn’t exactly come up with our next step. “I’m not really sure. Why, what did you have in mind?”

  “If you’re interested, I’d love to take you out to an early dinner. How about five?”

  “That sounds wonderful! It’s a date,” I said. That could still give me time to look into what had happened to Tim. “Try to get some sleep. I want you wide awake for our date.”

  “I’m heading off to bed right now. I just wanted to catch you before you got busy at the donut shop.” He tried to stifle a yawn as he said the last bit, and I could hear just how tired he was in his voice.

  I glanced at the clock and saw that I was already going to be late. “Well, your timing is excellent. I can’t wait to see you, Jake. Thanks for calling.”

  “Good-bye for now,” he said.

  “Good night,” I added, and we hung up.

  As I took a quick shower and then got ready for work, I wondered if I had any right to dig into Tim’s murder. After all, when I’d been accused of doing something to Emily, I’d had a stake in finding out what had happened to her. No one was pointing a finger at me about Tim’s death. Did I have the right, or the justification, to look into it?

  Maybe, just this once, I’d take a pass leading an impromptu investigation.

  Then again, Tim had been a good friend to me, to Grace, and to the rest of April Springs. He would be greatly missed, and clearly he meant more to some folks than I’d realized. Apparently his relationship with Emily was especially close, and I wondered how she was dealing with the news of her honorary uncle’s murder.

  * * *

  As Emma walked into the donut shop at her regular time—half an hour after I arrived—she said, “Good morning, Suzanne.” She paused a moment, put on her apron, and then studied me for a second. “You look really happy today. What
’s going on?” My employee must have noticed something different about me, though I couldn’t have said what it might be. I’d been working on my cake donuts, and had things going at a steady pace.

  “Why do you say that?” I asked as I scraped the remnants of flour into the trash from the counter where I’d been working.

  Emma laughed. “Oh, I don’t know. It could be because there’s a grin on your face that you couldn’t hide with a mask.”

  “Guilty as charged,” I said as I finished wiping down the kitchen counter. “Jake’s back in town, and we’re having an early dinner this evening.”

  “I thought it might be because of our ad in the newspaper this morning,” Emma said.

  “That’s right,” I said. I’d nearly forgotten about our plans for the day. Our Take-a-Chance-Tuesdays where Emma offered an offbeat roasted blend and I tried to come up with an outlandish donut to match it hadn’t really taken off yet, so we’d decided to put an ad in the April Springs Sentinel. Emma’s father, Ray, had given us a great deal on it, setting us up with a cheap graphic designer and offering us his best advertising rate. I hadn’t seen the ad myself, promising Emma that she could handle everything concerning our experiment herself. I figured it couldn’t hurt, and it gave Emma a sense of satisfaction by contributing to the business.

  She smiled broadly at me. “Just wait until you see it, Suzanne. It’s awesome.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” I had no idea what it looked like, but Emma’s excitement was payment enough. She’d be tough to replace when she went off to school someday, and if I could keep her happy and invested in the donut shop in the meantime, I’d do it.

  Emma frowned, and then said, “I’m going crazy waiting for the paper to come out. I can’t wait for you to see it,” she said, and dug into her purse. “Here’s the proof for the ad my dad’s running for us today.”

  She thrust a folded sheet of paper toward me, and I took it and studied it for a few moments. I really liked what I saw, and I had to admit that it had a real sense of fun about it, something we’d agreed we wanted to capture in the ad. There was an image of a donut and coffee cup holding hands, and their legs appeared to be dancing. Song notes hovered around them, and the ad copy said, “Don’t be afraid to take a chance on Take-a-Chance Tuesdays, only at Donut Hearts in downtown April Springs. Try your luck, they’re only a buck!” It may have been a little busy for my taste, but still, there was a whimsical charm about it that I liked.

  Then my glance caught the fine print at the bottom of the ad.

  Emma and I had discussed it before she got started on the design, and we’d agreed that there would have to be a limit of one per customer. After all, we were losing money selling a small cup of coffee and a donut for a dollar, but we hoped that most folks who came in would want more than one donut.

  There was a problem, though. Instead of a limit of one per customer, someone had slipped up, and the limit was now eleven! We could actually sell out today and still lose money.

  “Emma, did you check this before it went to your dad?” I asked as I handed it back to her.

  She looked puzzled by my question. “Sure I did. It’s perfect, don’t you think?”

  “You didn’t make any changes to it at all at the last minute?”

  Emma frowned at me. “What’s wrong with it, Suzanne? You told me I could do whatever I want. We agreed on the general scope and conditions of the ad, but I got to design it myself.”

  “Honestly, I love just about every bit of it,” I said.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “Look at the bottom of the ad,” I said as I handed it back to her.

  Emma looked puzzled, but after nearly a minute, she finally caught it. Her face was white as she said, “This is just the proof. I’m sure that Dad fixed it. He had to.”

  “Did you tell him to make any changes to the proof?”

  “No,” she admitted, and I could hear the tears coming up in her voice. “How did I miss this?”

  I touched her shoulder lightly. “We may be worrying for nothing. Call him,” I said.

  Emma nodded and took out her telephone. After a brief conversation, she hung up, looking as though she wanted to cry. It was clear she hadn’t gotten the answer she’d been hoping for. “He said he thought that was what we meant to do to drive in some foot traffic. Suzanne, this is a nightmare. What are we going to do?”

  I thought about it, and then said, “Honestly, what can we do? Sure, it was a mistake, but mistakes happen all of the time. Trust me; I’ve made more than my share myself.” I saw her lower lip start to quiver, and I knew that I couldn’t deal with a crying employee at the moment. “Don’t worry, Emma. It will be fine, but I think we should be prepared for an onslaught, just in case. Let’s start making some extra donuts so we won’t be caught short.”

  “My coffee blend is ready. Are you happy with the recipe you’ve been working on for today?” she asked.

  “On second thought, I don’t think I’m going to take a chance on that one,” I said as I started scanning my recipe book. It not only had the recipes I used every day, but also contained ideas that I wanted to try someday when I got the chance. My gaze settled on a brightly colored confection I’d played with on paper but had never made, and I decided that it would be just right for Emma’s Thunder Coffee offering. “Today, I think we’ll make rainbow-iced orange cake donuts.”

  “We’ve never done those before,” she said.

  “No, but they should be pretty and festive, and I don’t need to do anything exotic to them except decorate them like rainbows.”

  “That sounds great.” She paused, and then added, “Suzanne, I really am sorry about this.”

  It was time to put what had happened behind us so we could focus on the work we had to do before we could open. “Nonsense, don’t worry about it. Come on, this could be fun.”

  “Thanks for letting me off the hook,” she answered, the relief obvious in her voice.

  “You know what? As far as I’m concerned, this might be a blessing in disguise. After all, the whole purpose of the ad was to drive folks into the store, and if this doesn’t do it, I don’t know what will. Let’s make it a good day, no matter what, okay?”

  “That sounds great,” she said, and we dove into work.

  * * *

  “Is it always this crowded in here?” a new customer asked as he finally made his way to the counter so he could order. He was middle-aged, and from his girth, I was pretty sure he’d never passed up a free donut in his life, let alone eleven of them. If I had to guess, I would say that the dollar would just about cover our expenses for the exotic coffee blend, but I was afraid the donuts would be on the house. Emma had suggested switching to a less expensive coffee when we realized what had happened, but I wasn’t about to disappoint anyone if I could help it. I had to admit one thing. If the ad’s purpose had been to bring folks into Donut Hearts, it was a rousing success. I’d brought my recipe book up front so I could go over a new donut I’d been thinking about offering, but I hadn’t even had time to glance at it. The place had been hopping with customers since we’d opened, and for one of the few times since I’d owned the shop, I had a line before I even unlocked my door. We were moving a great deal of donuts and coffee, but I honestly didn’t have a clue where we stood financially. I had hoped that we wouldn’t lose too much, although as far as mistakes went, it could have been a great deal worse, and I wasn’t about to make any more donuts than we already had. When we were out, we were out, and there wouldn’t be any rain checks, which a few customers had already asked about.

  I looked at the man who was clutching a dollar bill in his fist and said, “Are you kidding? This is a slow day.” I added the last bit on a whim, fighting to keep a straight face as I said it.

  “Wow, I’m impressed,” he answered as he looked around.

  Not a chair or stool was empty, and several folks were standing along the windows and the walls. I’d made one change to our offering;
it was now dine-in only. At least that way we didn’t have to cater to every office within a hundred-mile radius. No one really seemed to mind once I explained what had happened, and it did make the shop a place full of laughter and smiles. Many of my customers kept their free eleven down to one or two extra, but a few insisted on the full dozen for the price of one. Those folks I made eat at the counter, and more than a few gave up after five or six. My rule became if they ordered, but couldn’t eat, the dozen donuts and drink all of the coffee, they had to pay for every extra they ate, so that took care of the rest of them.

  I couldn’t let this customer think that I’d been telling the truth earlier. I explained, “I’m just kidding. This is Take-a-Chance Tuesday. We had Rainbow donuts, but we ran out of them hours ago. You can take your pick of what we have left. When we ran out of Thunder coffee, we switched to Harmony, and now we’re serving Star-shine. I’m afraid when that’s gone, it’s back to our regular blends.” Emma loved to give her coffees exotic names, and I liked that it added a little mystery to our selections on Tuesday.

  “I’ll take one special, and you can pick out two donuts for me,” he said as he slid the dollar across the counter to me. Initially I’d been charging tax to push it over a dollar, but one high roller had come in and tipped me a fifty to cover everyone’s tax for the day. It was a sweet gesture, and I’d returned it with two dozen donuts, which he gladly accepted in return, laughing as he said that they could have only cost him a couple of bucks if he’d been a little hungrier.

  I chose one lemon filled and a regular glazed donut, got his two coffees, and then handed him the tray. “Enjoy.”

  “Thanks,” the stranger said. He grabbed one of his donuts before he even moved out of line, took his first bite of the lemon, and then smiled at me and said, “That is awesome! Who owns this place?”

  “I do,” I admitted. “I’m Suzanne Hart.”

  “Donut Hearts for Hart, I get it.” After another big bite, he asked, “Have you ever thought about selling this place? I’d give you a good and fair price for it; fryers, equipment, tables and chairs, recipes, display cases, everything. I’ll even buy the name from you.”

 

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