Tragic Toppings

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Tragic Toppings Page 20

by Jessica Beck


  “Hey, Chief,” he said.

  “Hello, Jake, Suzanne.”

  “What can we do for you?” Jake asked. “Are there any new developments?”

  “Not in the case,” he said. “I was wondering if I might have a moment with your mother, Suzanne.”

  “Hang on a second. I’ll go get her,” I said.

  “Could Jake do it?” the chief asked.

  “Certainly,” Jake answered. He looked as puzzled as I’d been by the request.

  Once he was in the kitchen, the chief said, “I just wanted to thank you again for the advice.”

  I’d nearly forgotten what I’d said when I remembered that I’d told him to be himself. He was certainly doing that, showing up unannounced and still in uniform.

  “I hope it helps,” I said as Momma came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel.

  “Phillip? What is it? Is something wrong?”

  “May I have a second of your time on the porch, Dorothy?” he asked. “I promise, I won’t keep you.”

  “Certainly,” she agreed, handing me the towel as she passed by me.

  The second the front door was closed, I ran to the window to see if I could make out what was going on outside.

  Jake looked at me and said, “Suzanne, you’re not spying on your own mother, are you?”

  “Not if you keep talking I can’t,” I said. “I can barely hear them as it is.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Come on, we need to give them both some privacy.”

  I shook my head and moved back away from the window. “What fun is that?”

  Jake laughed, and I had to smile at him as he said, “I’ve got an idea. Let’s finish up those dishes. The two of them might be a while.”

  “You think?” I asked.

  “You never know,” he said.

  He was actually right. We were nearly finished with the dishes when Momma came back in. There was a smile on her face that I hadn’t seen in a long time.

  “What was that all about?” I asked.

  “We’re going out again tomorrow night,” she answered. “I must say, something’s changed in that man since the last time we spoke.”

  “What exactly is different?”

  “He seemed so sure of himself. It was rather nice,” Momma said. “We’re going to the Boxcar Grill tomorrow so we can have a pleasant conversation along with our meal.”

  “It’s not really a grand romantic gesture, is it?” I asked.

  “That’s exactly why I’m looking forward to it,” Momma answered, and then she noticed that we were working on the dishes. “Heavens, I meant to do those myself before I got distracted. Why don’t you two go into the living room and I’ll finish them up myself.”

  “We’ve got it,” I said, and Jake agreed. “You go relax.”

  She nodded, and said, “Then I may read a little. This book is just getting to the good part.”

  After she was gone, I whispered to Jake, “What was that all about, do you think?”

  “It appears you give excellent advice to the lovelorn,” he said with a smile.

  “I guess, but honestly, I didn’t mean to do that good a job,” I answered.

  “Sorry, I’m afraid you can’t take any of it back now. It’s not entirely a bad thing, is it, seeing your mother that happy?”

  “I’m all for it,” I said. “I just hope this date turns out better than the first few did.”

  Jake kissed me, surprising me so much I nearly dropped the glass in my hand. “We didn’t exactly have an ideal beginning ourselves, but look how we’re turning out.”

  I smiled. “I guess there’s hope for the world, then.”

  “At least for the Hart women,” he answered.

  CHOCOLATE DONUTS

  These donuts are more of a dense and crisp donut than a cake one, and though they’re a little on the heavy side, we like them for a change of pace from our regular glazed donuts. It’s amazing how just a little icing adds another layer of flavor to these donuts.

  INGREDIENTS

  • 1 egg, beaten

  • ½ cup sugar

  • 1 tablespoon butter, melted

  • ¼ cup bittersweet chocolate, melted

  • 1 tablespoon cinnamon

  • ½ cup whole milk

  • 2 cups all purpose flour

  • 1 teaspoon baking powder

  DIRECTIONS

  Beat the egg, then add butter, sugar, and cinnamon, and then finally the melted chocolate. In a separate bowl, sift the flour and baking powder together, then slowly add to the egg mixture. Roll out the dough to about a quarter inch, then use a biscuit or donut cutter to cut out the rounds and holes.

  Cook in canola oil at 360 to 375 degrees for two and a half minutes on each side or until dark brown. Drain, dust with powdered sugar or add icing or sprinkles per your taste.

  Makes about 8 donuts.

  CHAPTER 16

  Just before we were set to open the next morning, Emma came up front and asked me, “I forgot to ask. When is the funeral? We’re not going to miss it, are we?”

  “It doesn’t start until two,” I said. “That should give us plenty of time to get cleaned up and make it even after a full day here. I didn’t realize you were going.”

  “Last night Emily called me and asked me to go with her for moral support,” Emma said. “I forgot to ask her the time when she telephoned. She’s pretty shook up.”

  “They were close,” I said. “She has a right to be.”

  Emma wanted to say something else; I could see it in her eyes. “Is there something you’re holding back?”

  “She’s coming by the shop around eight,” Emma said. “She wanted to know if she could talk to you for a second.”

  “She doesn’t need to make an appointment to speak with me,” I said. What on earth was going on?

  Emma shrugged. “It’s about the case. She kept asking me if you were making any progress, but I had to keep telling her that I didn’t know anything about it. I know she’s not satisfied with the answers I’ve been giving her.”

  “All I can say is that we’re getting closer,” I said.

  “How close?” Emma asked. How much pressure was Emily putting on her friend?

  “I’m not even sure I can answer that. We collect information from as many people who were involved as we can, and we never know when we’re going to hit the tipping point when things finally begin to make sense. Something someone says or does might trigger something else we’ve heard, or we may put two seemingly unrelated facts together. It’s hard to quantify, and I probably shouldn’t say that we’ve been making a lot of progress, but I have a feeling in my heart that it’s true.”

  “That’s good enough for me. So, who did it?” she asked with a grin.

  “I’m not ready to say yet,” I answered as I flipped on the lights and opened the front door.

  I was surprised to find Stu Mitchell waiting for me outside, and even more surprising, he appeared to be stone-cold sober.

  “Good morning,” I said as he came in. “Can I help you with something?”

  He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “You actually come to work this early every day? I don’t know how you do it. I need coffee before my eyes will even open. Give me the biggest one you serve.”

  I got him a big cup and filled it to the brim, and as I handed it to him and collected his money, I said, “If you think this is early, we’re here by two every morning.”

  “You must be part vampire,” he said as he took his first gulp. “Ah,” he said. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re not here for a social call, Stu,” I said. “What can I do for you?”

  “I didn’t kill Tim,” he said firmly.

  “So you said before.”

  “The last time I said it, we both knew that I was drunk, but I’m sober now, so I wanted you to hear it again.”

  “Mission accomplished, then,” I answered.

&n
bsp; He looked long and hard at me before he spoke again. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  It was a fair question, and it deserved a truthful answer. “Honestly? I’m not sure.”

  Stu took that in. “You know what? I can live with that. I just don’t want to see the police rush to judgment. That cop you’ve been with looks at me like I’m a killer every time he sees me.”

  I explained, “If it’s any consolation, he looks at all his suspects that way.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s better or worse.”

  “Are you going to Tim’s funeral?” I asked.

  He took another healthy swallow of his coffee, and then said, “I’ve been thinking about it, but I’m probably going to pass. I don’t need anybody pointing any fingers at me there, you know? Tim and I had our differences, but I didn’t want to see him dead, and that’s a fact.”

  Stu took another big swallow, and then pushed the cup back to me. “Anyway, that’s why I came by.”

  After he was gone, Emma came through the kitchen door. “What was that all about? Why would he go out of his way like that just to tell you something he’s already said?”

  “Were you eavesdropping?” I asked her.

  “Wouldn’t you have been, if the roles had been reversed?”

  I grinned at her as I said, “No doubt about it. Maybe he has a guilty conscience,” I said. His sudden appearance was curious, to say the least, and I couldn’t wait to tell Jake.

  A little before eight, Emily Hargraves came in. She was dressed in black, and was all alone. For one weird second, I wondered if Cow, Spots, and Moose were dressed in black suits back at the shop, but the image of it vanished as quickly as it had come into my mind. This was not a time for fun and frivolity. A man, a dear friend of mine and Emily’s honorary uncle, was dead, and he was being buried today.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said as Emily approached the counter. “This must be brutal for you.”

  “I’ll get through it,” she said bravely. “Have you had any luck?”

  She didn’t have to clarify her question any further. “We’re closing in, but I can’t say how soon it will be before we’re ready to move.”

  “As long as you’re still on it,” she said, “then I’ll be able to get through this.”

  “It’s sweet of you to ask Emma to go with you.”

  Emily shook her head. “It’s not sweet. I have to have her there to lean on, or I won’t be able to get through it. Are you coming?”

  “Yes, of course I am. Jake and I will be there, and George and Grace, too.”

  “Good,” she said. “Tim deserved a fine showing of the folks who cared about him.”

  “Can I send anything to the house?” I asked. “I’d be glad to throw a few dozen donuts in boxes for you.”

  “Thanks, but the place is loaded with food as it is. We’re good, but it’s a nice thought.”

  “If there’s anything I can do, just let me know,” I said.

  “You already are,” Emily said, and then left the shop.

  Not twenty minutes later, George came in, wearing a jet-black suit. From the way he was walking, it appeared that his therapy was finally showing some noticeable results, though he still had the cane with him.

  “You, my friend, are doing great,” I said.

  “For an old man who had an accident?” he asked with a grin.

  “For anybody,” I answered. I looked around behind him, but didn’t see my boyfriend anywhere. “Where’s Jake? I thought he was going to come by with you.”

  “Do you mean that he’s not here?” George asked as he looked around. “We were supposed to meet up ten minutes ago.”

  I knew it was just ten minutes, but I suddenly panicked, wondering if Jake had gotten himself into something he couldn’t get out of. “Don’t worry, I’ll call him,” I said as I reached for my cell phone.

  Jake didn’t pick up, though, and after four rings, my call went straight to voice mail. “Jake, this is Suzanne. Call me as soon as you get this.”

  “It’s okay,” George said as I stowed my telephone back away. “It’s probably nothing.”

  “Probably,” I said. “Can I get you a cup of coffee and a couple of donuts, on the house?”

  “I wouldn’t say no to either offer,” he said as he took a seat at the counter.

  I got him what I’d promised, and I was about to try Jake again when the man himself walked in the door.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Been waiting long, George?”

  “Not even long enough to eat my breakfast,” George grinned at him. I wasn’t sure who was happier that Jake was working the case, George or me.

  He leaned over the counter and kissed me quickly. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

  “What, me worried?”

  He laughed softly. “Suzanne, I got your voice mail. You were worried.”

  I smiled at him. “You’re right, I was. It’s taken me some time to get you close to where I want you. I’d hate to have to start over again with someone else.”

  “Am I really close?”

  I walked around the counter and kissed him again. “You’ve got a ways to go, but yeah, you’re pretty good right now.”

  “Right back at you,” he said, and then turned to George. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  “Don’t you want something to eat?” I asked.

  “Thanks, but I had breakfast hours ago.”

  I lowered my voice so no one in the shop could hear as I asked, “Who are you going to talk to this morning?”

  “We’re going after Stu,” he said.

  “He was here early this morning,” I said, suddenly realizing that I’d forgotten to tell either man about the early morning visit.

  Jake did not look pleased by the information. “When exactly did he show up, and what did he want?”

  I answered, “He was here at five-thirty, if you can believe it, and he was sober as a judge.”

  “I’ve known some judges in my day,” Jake said, “who might disqualify that statement all by themselves.”

  “Okay, a teetotaler, then. Stu said that he was coming by to tell me that he was innocent, and it was pretty clear that it was important to him that I believed him.”

  “Is it just me,” Jake asked, “or is that man protesting a little too much?” He slapped George on the shoulder. “Let’s go see what he has to say to us.”

  George took a last bite of donut, and then said, “Thanks, Suzanne. That was great.”

  After the two men were gone, I tried to imagine Stu Mitchell killing Tim and then hoisting his body up in the Patriot Tree. I wasn’t sure if I had a good imagination, or if something on a more subtle level was telling me he was guilty, but the image in my mind was sharp, vivid, and hard to dispute.

  By eleven, we were slowing down, as was usually the case in a typical day for the donut shop. Emma and I had discussed closing around then regularly instead of our normal noon. After all, not many folks wanted donuts for lunch, and if they did, they could come by and pick them up a little earlier. I had to admit that the prospect of an earlier closing time was tempting, especially since we were there in the heart of darkness every day. It was something I was going to have to seriously consider in the future.

  To my great surprise, Betsy Hanks and Gina Parsons came in together, both dressed in black, and from the look of their makeup, both women had been crying. It was one of the odder pairings I’d ever seen come into my shop, but it wasn’t complete, yet. Angelica DeAngelis walked in just a second later, and all three of Tim’s paramours were together at the same time.

  “Ladies,” I said. “How are you all holding up?”

  “We’d like a table, some coffee, and a little privacy,” Angelica said with a fleeting smile.

  “Of course,” I said as I pointed to a table by the window. It was probably small of me, but it was also still close enough for me to eavesdrop.

  “You two sit, I’ll fetch the coffee when it’s ready
,” Angelica said, and they did as she asked.

  “What in the world is going on?” I asked her softly as I started filling cups.

  “We’ve decided to bury the hatchet. That’s a bad choice of words, isn’t it? We each cared for Tim, and we think we owe it to him to forgive him today, of all days.”

  “Angelica, I’m so proud of you,” I said as I patted her hand.

  “You give me too much credit,” she said. “Betsy came to me at the restaurant last night and convinced me that it was the proper thing to do. She’d already talked Gina into coming along, so how could I refuse?”

  Betsy Hanks just came up a few notches in my book. It had to have taken a great deal of nerve to do what she’d done. “Can I get you all a donut as well?”

  “They may or may not eat anything,” Angelica said.

  “After all of the times you’ve fed me, including very recently, I’m at least going to try.” I put together a sampler platter, and then said, “If you give me a second, I’ll come back and grab the coffees.”

  “You take the donuts, and I can get these,” she said. “I’m not above serving, you know that.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  As she distributed the coffees, I put the platter down and said, “Ladies, I am sincerely sorry for your loss today. Please accept these as a token of my respect.”

  “That’s sweet,” Gina said, but she had trouble making eye contact with me.

  “I agree,” Betsy answered. She looked so sad and troubled by the loss of Tim, and yet she’d made a supremely self-sacrificing gesture out of respect for him. I knew that one of the women sitting there might be a killer, but I had a hard time believing it at the moment.

  Thirty minutes later, they stood as one, nodded and thanked me in turn, and then walked out of the shop.

  It had certainly been an eventful day at Donut Hearts.

  And I still had a funeral to attend.

  * * *

  As Jake and I stood at the hilly gravesite, I couldn’t believe how many of Tim’s friends, loved ones, and admirers had come to say a final good-bye. It was amazing how many folks he’d touched during his life, and the town of April Springs would never be the same without him. The day had started off sunny, but as though in deference to the occasion, clouds had rolled in, giving the afternoon an ominous feel to it.

 

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