Tragic Toppings

by Jessica Beck

  “Besides here? I don’t have a clue,” the bartender said. “This is just a way for me to pay my way through school. I did a hitch in the service, and now I’m going after something that lets me sit at a desk all day. Standing here night after night really makes you appreciate getting off your feet, you know?”

  Jake just shrugged and slipped the man his card. “If you hear from her, have her call me.”

  The guy took the card and put it behind the bar. Whether he’d give it to his substitute bartender was beyond me.

  Jake saluted Orson with two fingers as we walked past him, but he most likely didn’t see it. He certainly didn’t react to it.

  After we left, I said, “That was one big fat dead end.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “He was here tonight, though,” I said. “Wouldn’t that bolster his story that he never misses a night here?”

  As Jake held my door for me, he said, “I do my best not to jump to conclusions. I’ll come back and talk to this woman, and then we’ll go from there.”

  “You don’t take anything at face value, do you?”

  “I’ve learned my lessons the hard way,” he answered. “Check, and then double-check.”

  As we drove to April Springs, I said, “I couldn’t do your job.”

  “Are you kidding, with as much practice as you’ve been getting since we met?”

  I wasn’t going to let him joke about it. I was perfectly serious. “Don’t laugh at me. I mean it. You have to think the worst of everyone you come in contact with, don’t you?”

  Jake shook his head. “You’re missing the point. I give everyone an even break when I meet them. I don’t start feeling one way or another until I have a reason to suspect that something’s wrong.”

  “I still don’t know how you do it.”

  He drove a few more minutes, and then asked, “Do you think just anyone could open your donut shop and do what you do? Let’s put the skill set required aside for a second and just consider your work hours. Getting up at one-thirty every morning has to be some kind of brutal experience. You work hard until twelve-thirty, by the time you close and clean up, seven days a week. I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Okay, you made your point. We each have our own special talents.”

  “True, but yours are delicious, as an added bonus.” He glanced in back for a second. “Speaking of delicious, that’s still a lot of food.”

  “We could always heat some of it up when we get back to my place.”

  He looked at me quickly to see if I was joking. “I honestly don’t think I could eat another bite. Could you?”

  “Probably not, but I won’t let you down if you want company while you snack.”

  “No, I’d better not, or I’ll never get to sleep.”

  I smiled over at him. “At least we don’t have to worry about dinner tomorrow night. You are coming over, aren’t you?”

  “With all of that waiting for me? You bet I am.”

  I tweaked his arm a little. “I’d like to think that you’re coming over more for me than the food.”

  “That’s what I was talking about,” he said with a grin. “The food is just a bonus.”

  “Good answer,” I said as we drove through town and up to the cottage. I felt happy being with him, full and warm and most important of all, safe.

  It was dark out when we pulled up to the front of the cottage, but there was something flickering on the porch that gave off a dancing light.

  Something was wrong.

  Fire!

  DONUT PUFFS

  We like these puffs because they’re easy to make, and the drop donuts go great with coffee or hot cocoa on a cool day. One tip, though: use a cookie scoop. They drop a beautiful and perfect ball every time.

  INGREDIENTS

  • 2 eggs, beaten

  • ½ cup sugar

  • ½ cup whole milk

  • 1 teaspoon nutmeg

  • 1 dash of salt

  • 1½ cups all purpose flour

  • 1 heaping teaspoon baking powder

  DIRECTIONS

  Beat the eggs, then add the sugar and whole milk. Set aside, and sift together the flour, salt, nutmeg, and baking powder. Add the dry to the wet, stirring thoroughly. Use a small cookie scoop to add the dough to 375-degree canola oil for two to three minutes, turning the balls halfway through. Dust with powdered sugar or add icing after they are cool to the touch.

  Makes about a dozen puffs

  CHAPTER 12

  Jake must have spotted it the same time that I did. He slammed the car to a stop, then rushed out, with me close behind.

  As we raced up the steps, I could see that the fire was confined to a small rectangle on the porch. I went for the garden hose, but Jake grabbed an old blanket we kept on the porch swing and beat the flames out before I could get to it. I doused it just to make sure it was out, and then Jake said, “Turn on the porch light.”

  After I did as he asked, in the glow from the light I looked down to try to see what had been destroyed.

  With a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I knew instantly what it had been. There was just enough left of the cover for me to know beyond a doubt that someone had just destroyed one of the things I prized most in the world.

  It was my recipe book, and it was clear that I’d never retrieve another thing from it ever again.

  “Look at this,” Jake said, his voice bringing me back to reality.

  “It’s my recipe book,” I said, feeling dull and listless all of a sudden. I couldn’t even meet his gaze. All I could manage to do was stare down at what had meant so much to me, now destroyed. “I can’t believe that it’s gone.”

  “Suzanne,” he barked at me. “Look.”

  I did as he asked, and pulled my gaze upward to him.

  He was pointing to something that I hadn’t seen in my haste to get to my book.

  It was a note taped to the railing.

  Back off, or more than your precious book will be on fire next time. Wood siding burns with the brightest flames. Just give me a reason to light the match.

  “This is serious,” Jake said.

  “You don’t have to tell me. That book held more than recipes. Every idea I had for the donut shop was in there. There’s no way I’ll ever be able to reproduce a tenth of it. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  Jake shook his head. His voice had an angry edge to it as he said, “Suzanne, there’s more at stake here than Donut Hearts. The killer is threatening your life.”

  I looked at Jake and did nothing to disguise my attitude in my voice. “I’m not going anywhere, Jake, and I’m not backing down. I’m going to catch whoever did this, and I’m going to make them pay for it.”

  “Take it easy,” he said, his voice suddenly more calm and reassuring. “Is it really worth dying over?”

  I had to make him understand. It was important for me that he knew just how deep a blow this was to me and my business. “Jake, let me ask you something. If a bad guy threatened you, how would you react to it? Don’t try to appease me with your answer, either. I want the truth.”

  He scratched his chin a second, and then said, “I’d try twice as hard to catch him, and make him pay.”

  I looked up at him earnestly. “What makes you think I’m any different?”

  He nodded. “I get what you’re saying, but I’m a cop.”

  “And I’m just a donut maker.”

  He shook his head. “You’re not ‘just’ anything, Suzanne, but I’ve been trained for this.”

  I nodded. “That may be true, but do you honestly think there’s one chance in a thousand that I’m going to just roll over and quit because of this?”

  “No,” he replied, without pausing to think about his answer. “Not even one in a million.”

  “And are you the least bit surprised I feel that way?”

  “Again, no,” he said with a slight grin this time.

  He got it; I could see it in his eyes. �
�Good.”

  Jake hugged me as he said, “In that case, we’d better find the killer before he can make good on his threat.”

  “Now you’re talking,” I said. “Stay right here.”

  I went inside and grabbed a broom and a dustpan, but I couldn’t bring myself to use them. Instead, I got two clean sheets of paper, and when I got back outside, Jake was kneeling by the ashes. He looked up at me with the saddest expression on his face. “I’m really sorry, Suzanne. There’s nothing left to save. I tried.”

  I touched his shoulder lightly. “It’s okay,” I said with more spunk than I felt. “I’ll start over. Emma and I have already been experimenting with old recipes, and I’m asking her mother to give us a hand, since she helps out at the shop sometimes when I’m gone.” As I swept the ashes onto one sheet of paper with the other, I added, “I just hope she has a better memory than I do.”

  Once I had the remnants of my book on the paper, I folded the sheet carefully so nothing would spill. I couldn’t bear to just toss it all in the trash can like some sort of discarded filth.

  Jake must have noticed my hesitation. He said softly, “You know what? Maybe we should give this a proper sendoff.”

  “I know you must think I’m crazy for being so sentimental about it, but when I left Max and bought the shop, the first thing I did was buy that notebook so I could start making plans. It’s a part of my life I never want to forget.”

  He nodded. “I get it. Come with me.”

  I followed Jake to his car, and he popped open the trunk. He disappeared for a second, and then stood up holding a shovel. “We need to treat it with respect. Is there any particular place in the park where you’d like to bury it?”

  “I know just the spot,” I said as I walked to my Thinking Tree, a place I’d gone to contemplate love, life, school, and marriage. Once we were beneath it, I pointed to a spot where I could see it as I sat on the downstretched branch of the tree that I favored. “Right there should be perfect.”

  Jake, even though he was dressed nicely in a suit, started digging, and after he got down a few inches, I said, “That’s enough.”

  I pulled my dress up a little, and then knelt down in the soft earth and carefully placed the paper holding the ashes into the hole.

  “Do you have a lighter?” I asked him.

  “I’ve got one in the car,” he said. To his credit, he didn’t ask why. A minute later he was back, and he handed a disposable lighter to me. I reached down and lit the edge of the paper. It flared up and burned quickly, and soon the fire was out. As I filled the hole back up with dirt with my hands, I said softly, “Thank you, for everything. You will be truly missed.”

  As I stood, Jake took me in his arms and held me. I hadn’t realized how emotional I really was until that moment. I quietly sobbed into his chest, sad for what I’d lost, and more than that, what it represented. There was a part of me gone now, something I could never get back, and it merited the emotion I gave it.

  After a few minutes, I felt the strain and weight of the destruction slip off me, and I pulled away from Jake.

  “Thanks for not thinking I’m just a silly fool,” I said.

  He touched my cheek with a soft caress. “Never,” he said, and then he lowered his head and kissed me.

  After a few moments, I heard someone calling my name. “Suzanne? Is that you? What on earth are you doing?”

  It was Momma, and it looked like her big date with the chief of police had ended early yet again.

  * * *

  Jake and I walked up onto the porch, and I saw there was an area that still had soot from the fire. Jake said, “I’ll put some water in that bucket by the hose and take care of that.”

  As he walked around the cottage, I asked Momma, “What happened with Chief Martin?”

  She shook her head. “That can wait. What happened here?”

  “Someone burned my recipe book on our front porch,” I said, the words sticking in my throat somehow. Saying it aloud brought the pain back, but I fought it down.

  My mother, an excellent cook and baker, knew exactly what that meant without any need for explanation. “Oh, no. That’s just awful. Who would do such a thing?”

  Jake came back, and I said, “Show her the note.”

  He’d tucked it into a plastic bag after we’d discovered it, and Jake pulled it out of his pocket and showed it to her.

  As she read it, I watched her reaction.

  Instead of fear, I saw anger and determination, and I was never more proud of my mother than I was at that moment.

  “You both have got to find who did this,” she said, her voice full of steel.

  “Don’t worry. We’re going to, Momma,” I said.

  She nodded, and then looked at Jake. “You’re going to continue helping her, correct?”

  “That’s right,” Jake said, meeting her gaze squarely.

  “Good,” she said. “If there’s anything I can do to help, I expect you both to let me know. The only way we fail is to let this bully win.”

  I got the leftovers out of Jake’s car, and Momma noticed the boxes were from Napoli’s. She said, “I’ve interrupted your dinner. I can make myself scarce while you eat.”

  As she started into the house, I touched her arm. “That’s just the leftovers. Actually, we already ate.”

  She looked at the boxes of food again, and then asked, “What did you order, if this is just what’s left?”

  “You wouldn’t believe us if we told you,” I said.

  “Try me. I could use a good story.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Let’s get this all put away, and then we can chat. We have more to talk about than food, anyway. How was your date?”

  Momma frowned. “It barely got started.”

  “Did you get another headache?” I asked her.

  “No, it was nothing like that. Things started off badly, and then just got worse from there. We went to Mountain View, and he hired a horse-drawn carriage to take us around the lake before dinner.”

  “That sounds romantic enough.”

  “You’d think so, but you’d be wrong. The horse had a bad case of flatulence, and then the wheel came off the cart. We had to walk back to his car just as it started to rain. Then, after we went to a fancy restaurant that Phillip clearly wasn’t comfortable being in, he was called away on an emergency before we even got to order our food. I’m not at all certain that dating someone in law enforcement is the best idea in the world.”

  “I don’t know,” I said as I grabbed Jake’s hand. “It’s working out so far for me.”

  Momma realized what she’d said, and looked in horror at Jake. “Jacob, you know I wasn’t talking about you. I’d never dream of questioning your suitability for my daughter.”

  “Relax, Dorothy,” he said, saying her first name with a newfound ease. “I couldn’t take it personally, mostly because you’re right. You shouldn’t hold his job against him, though. To serve and protect isn’t just a motto; if you take your job seriously, it’s a way of life.”

  She seemed to consider that for a moment, and then said, “Perhaps you’re right. Still, the two of us seem to be doomed before we even get started.”

  “Are you just giving up?” I asked as we started unloading the boxes in the kitchen.

  “No, we’re going to give it one more try. We both agree that it’s worth at least that much of an effort.” Momma looked at the food displayed on the table, and then asked, “Would it be presumptuous of me to make myself a plate?”

  “Go right ahead,” I said. “We’ll keep you company while you eat.”

  As she put together some food, she looked at us and asked, “Would you like to join me? There appears to be plenty.”

  “No, thanks,” I said. “You wouldn’t believe how much we ate at Napoli’s.”

  As Momma heated the food up, she asked, “What on earth made you order this much food?”

  “Well, I was feeling peckish when we sat down,” I said, trying to keep a stra
ight face.

  Jake wouldn’t let me get away with teasing her, though. “Don’t let her pull your leg. Suzanne had a talk with Angelica today. I don’t know what she said, but when we got to the restaurant, the woman practically smothered us with food.”

  Momma removed her plate from the microwave, took a bite, and smiled. “Angelica has a magic touch with pasta. Suzanne, what exactly did you say to her?”

  “We talked about love, and the many ways it expresses itself.”

  Momma looked confused, so I explained further. “Tim’s death hit her hard, but finding out that he’d been seeing other women hurt her even more. Angelica felt betrayed, but as we talked, it turned out that Tim never promised, or even implied, that she was the only one in his life. She never asked for anything exclusive, and he never offered it. Once she realized that she’d created her own perception of things that had no basis in reality, she felt much better about their relationship, and she accepted it for what it was and not some fantasy she’d concocted in her head.”

  Momma put her fork down on the plate and stared at me. “Let me ask you something. Are you saying that you condone the way Timothy behaved?”

  Jake looked as though he’d rather be any place else on earth, but I didn’t back down. “Momma, it’s not like he was engaged to any of them. Sure, Tim dated more than one woman at the time, but I don’t see anything wrong with that if he didn’t lie to any of them. Not everyone is monogamous by nature. I don’t mind that. It’s lying about it that I can’t, and won’t, accept.”

  Momma still sported a frown as she turned to my boyfriend. “Jacob, what is your opinion of all of this?”

  He didn’t even flinch; I had to give him that. Jake looked Momma in the eye, and said, “I’ve never been able to balance a checkbook, let alone juggle two women in my life. I was born for one woman at a time.”

  “There, he agrees with me,” Momma crowed.

  “Not so fast,” Jake said, startling both of us. “On the other hand, I know plenty of men like Tim who enjoy seeing different women at the same time. As a matter of fact, I know a few women who like to date multiple men. It’s all just a matter of personal preference, as far as I’m concerned. There’s no right and wrong here, there’s just what it is.”