Spooky Choc Orange Glazed Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 23

by Susan Gillard

  “Yeah.” Heather met her bestie’s gaze, and Amy dropped her head and shook it. “Oh, and I did see something else, just before we found Sarah’s body.”

  “What?”

  “The maid or someone dressed up like a maid in the back garden. Definitely, a woman.” Heather used two fingers and dragged them through the air. “She kind of zig zagged through the garden. We were puzzling over it when Amy tripped and fell.”

  “The maid,” Ryan said and noted that down too. “All right. I’ll check that out, next.” He squeezed her hand once, then rose from his seat and walked toward the next group of witnesses. Or were they suspects?

  Heather studied them, one by one. Then froze. A young girl, the same girl who’d stormed off after the argument between Sarah and Georgia, glared at her. She flicked her dark brown hair and narrowed her eyes.

  What was that about?

  Heather rose, and a hand clamped down on her forearm. She jerked around, then let out a sigh. “Ames. You scared me.”

  “I didn’t realize you could get scared,” Amy replied, and patted her pale cheeks. “Heather, I don’t like this one bit. I don’t like being here. When can we go?”

  “The cops need to talk to everyone before we leave. Standard procedure,” Heather said.

  “Who cares about the standard procedure? I touched a dead lady!” Amy hissed.

  Heather pressed a finger to her lips. “Shush, for heaven’s sake. I know you’re freaked, but you’ve gotta reign it in. We don’t want to freak anyone out.” She glanced back at the dark-haired girl, but the teenager had disappeared again.

  Heather strode to the table, then grabbed a napkin and used it to get a donut. “Here,” she said and handed it to Amy. “Eat this. Chocolate will make you feel better.”

  “Is this like a Harry Potter and the Dementors thing?”

  “No, it’s a 'you need sugar to combat the shock' thing,” Heather replied, then patted her bestie on the back. “It’s going to be a long night. You’d better take a seat.”

  Amy bit into the donut and sighed. “Better already,” she said, around a mouthful of chocolatey orange goodness.

  Heather sat down and crossed her legs, then brushed off the skirts of her witch costume. Questions burned through her mind.

  “So much for a peaceful Halloween,” Heather said. “Looks like you got the spooky factor you wanted.”

  “This is not spooky,” Amy said and munched another bit of donut. “This is horrifying. There is a vast difference.”

  Heather smiled, but mirth didn’t drive the gesture. Another person dead in Hillside and the suspects list grew by the minute.

  Who would it be this time around?

  Chapter 4

  Heather and Amy strode toward the exit, arm in arm. The cops had cleaned up pretty quick, at least. Just enough time, in fact, for Amy to polish off the last donut on the tray.

  “I can’t wait to get home and de-witchify myself,” Amy said. “Oh, and scrub my hands until they’re raw.” She shuddered and tightened her grip on Heather’s arm.

  “I just want to get some sleep before work tomorrow. Gosh, who am I kidding? I’ll be up all night mulling over the facts.”

  “That does sound like a very ‘Heather’ thing to do,” Amy replied.

  “Heather,” a voice said, behind them. “That’s who you are.”

  The ladies stopped in their tracks, then turned on the spot. Amy’s expression folded inward. She didn’t enjoy surprises and tonight had been full of them.

  The young, dark-haired teenager stood a few feet from them, her arms folded across her chest.

  “Pardon?” Heather asked.

  “I just figured out who you are,” the girl said. “You’re the investigator who makes donuts. Your name was, like, in the paper and stuff.”

  “Totally,” Amy said, in her best teenager impression.

  The girl narrowed her eyes at Amy, then flicked her gaze back to Heather. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m Heather Shepherd,” she said and stepped forward.

  “And you approve this message?” Amy dropped her arms to her sides and swung them back and forth.

  “What’s, like, your problem?” The girl asked, and stared at Ames.

  Heather cleared her throat. “We came to deliver donuts for the party.” She studied the girl’s expression. Something in her face, in her demeanor, struck a chord in Heather’s mind. “Who are you?”

  The girl rolled her eyes. “If I tell you, you’ll just try to kiss my feet.”

  “That’s the weirdest thing anyone’s ever said. And I’ve heard a lot of weird stuff in the last few months,” Amy said.

  “I’m Tatiana Kenny,” the teenager replied, and didn’t stick out her hand to shake Heather’s. “You found my mother on the balcony.”

  Amy’s jaw dropped, and then she snapped it up again.

  Heather sucked in a breath. “Tatiana. What a beautiful name. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “What loss? My mother was a total hag,” Tatiana said. “And I despise my lame name. Call me Tat. Or the Kenster. All my friends do.”

  “Wow,” Amy said. Then hummed the tune from the Twilight Zone.

  Heather had to agree with her bestie. This was the weirdest conversation ever. “Why don’t you like your name? It’s Russian.”

  “Oh for real?”

  “Yeah, that was the name of one of the last princesses of Russia,” Heather said. She neglected to tell the teen what’d happened to the princess.

  “Oh, that’s cool. But yeah, my mom named me that. Apparently, my dad wanted to name me something chilled, but he wasn’t at my birth. So yeah, my mom named me Tatiana.”

  “I like it,” Amy said.

  “You ever been to high school? You can’t imagine what it’s like having my name.”

  “Yes, you’re totally right,” Amy replied. “The Kenster is a far superior name.”

  Tatiana grunted her approval. The sarcasm slipped right by her left ear and retreated into the distance.

  Heather tucked her arms behind her back and interlaced her fingers. “You say your mother was a total hag?”

  “Yeah. She bossed me around, like, all the time. I can’t wait for my dad to get back. He can finally sell all the stupid stuff in this house and maybe we can live, like, somewhere better.” Tatiana tossed her black hair back. “And I can get a tattoo.”

  “Oh boy,” Amy said. “I’m afraid to open my mouth.”

  “Then don’t,” Heather whispered, and pinched her bestie on the elbow. Tatiana might be obnoxious, but she was a solid lead, and that meant they had to treat her with a modicum of respect.

  Amy often found that hard. And Heather despised rude people.

  “So, like, are you going to investigate my mother’s death and stuff?”

  “That’s strictly classified information, Tatiana,” Heather replied. “I mean, Tat.” Gosh, it tasted bitter to say that name.

  “Oh okay.” Tatiana pursed her lips, then shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever. Just don’t get in my way. I’ve got, like, loads to deal with now that she’s gone.”

  “Tatiana,” Heather said.

  “The Kenster,” Amy corrected, then stifled a snort.

  Heather couldn’t bring herself to say the name. “You don’t seem that upset about your mother’s death.”

  “Don’t get me wrong or anything. Like, she was my mom, and yeah, I guess I loved her in my own way, but she was a total pain in the butt.” Tatiana did another signature hair flip. “Maybe it, like, hasn’t hit home yet.”

  “Too many likes. Cannot compute,” Amy whispered.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, regardless,” Heather said.

  “Thanks.” The teenager walked past them, toward the exit. “I’m going to lose myself in the neighborhood or whatever. Have fun.”

  “That doesn’t seem like a wise idea,” Heather said, but the girl had already disappeared. Heather blinked after her. “Weird.”

  “Look at yo
u, all judgmental,” Amy said. “She’s not weird. She’s unique. Just like every other sixteen-year-old in Hillside.”

  “And the world,” Heather said.

  Amy guffawed, then traipsed toward the massive doorway which led out into the hall. “C’mon, Mrs. Shepherd. We’ve got a maze of hallways to navigate before we can get out of here.”

  Heather followed her bestie into the hall, but she couldn’t shake the strange vibe which Tatiana had given off.

  The girl had despised her mother or she lacked empathy in general. Either trait didn’t bode well for her in this investigation. Heather hurried along. The questions had already started up.

  A long parade of hints, thoughts and allegations. She could barely wait to solve the case.

  Chapter 5

  Heather positioned herself behind the register in Donut Delights and admired the Halloween decorations in her store.

  Fake skeletons hung in the windows, each of them gripped a donut in their bony digits, and paper bats fluttered in the breeze from the air con. Amy had bedecked the tables with spooky pumpkin candle holders and swapped the serviettes out to match.

  “You look like the cat that got the cream,” Eva Schneider said and sidled up to the counter. “Dear, you have outdone yourself with the decorations this year.”

  “Thanks, Eva. I figured this would be a fun time of year for the store,” Heather said. “Would you like a cup of coffee? Perhaps, and choc orange specialty?” She tapped the glass display case.

  Eva eyed the glistening donuts beneath it and licked her lips. “Absolutely. Care to join me?”

  “Oh, I’ll take a break in a few. I’m just waiting for Amy to get back from the store with Lils.” Heather grinned. “Costume shopping. Lilly wanted to surprise me with her choice, but I figure it’s either a cop or a dinosaur.” Heather got a plate out and placed a donut at its center, then handed it over to Eva.

  She grabbed a mug, then placed it under the spout of the coffee machine and pushed a few buttons. “Are you excited for Halloween, Eva?”

  “Oh, absolutely. I love seeing the costumes every year. And stealing a few candies for myself in between handing them out, of course.”

  Heather chuckled, then grasped the coffee mug and walked Eva to her table. “It’s going to be fun, this year. Lilly and I will be sure to stop by your place on our route.”

  Eva positively beamed at that news and took her seat. Heather placed her mug beside the plate, then patted the old woman on the shoulder. She turned and hurried back to the counter.

  After the strange occurrences, the night before, it was good to be back in Donut Delights, doing what she adored.

  Heather slid in behind the cash register, then grasped a chair and pulled it toward her. She sat down, looked up and lost her voice.

  Georgia Summers stood in the center of the room, opulent in a cream cocktail dress. She twirled a strand of long, platinum blond hair around her finger, then spotted Heather and flashed a smile.

  She strode to the glass counter and halted in front of it. “Heather, darling, there you are.”

  “You know my name,” Heather said.

  Georgia’s gaze shifted to the left and then the right. She burst out laughing and threw her head back to match it. That laugh, that rolling thunder of mirth traveled through the interior of Donut Delights.

  Every patron in the vicinity stopped eating, drinking and chattering, and stared at Georgia Summers instead.

  The woman knew how to put on a show.

  “Of course, I know your name, darling. Everyone knows the name of Hillside’s favorite investigator,” Georgia replied. She glanced around, then laughed again. “And donut maker. How could I forget?”

  “I – uh,” she stammered. There wasn’t much to say, other than that. “How may I help you today, Miss Summers?’

  The socialite leaned across the counter but didn’t touch the glass surface. “Give me all your recipes, or else,” she whispered, in gravelly tones.

  “Pardon?”

  Georgia screeched another laugh and everyone in Donut Delights quieted again.

  “Now, that’s a laugh to alter the fabric of reality.” Amy strolled toward the front of the store and winked at Heather. Lilly sat at the table with Eva and waved at Heather.

  She waved back, then focused on the socialite again.

  Georgia ignored her, totally, and honed in on her point again. Whatever that was.

  “Mrs. Shepherd, I thought it would be a great idea to come down here and have a talk with you today.”

  “Did you really?” Amy asked, and rounded the counter. “What about?”

  For the second time, Georgia’s stare glazed past Amy and fixed on Heather’s face. “You have a lovely establishment here, and great potential for growth.”

  “Growth,” Heather said, and the corners of her mouth twitched. “I’m just about done growing, for now, thanks.”

  “What on earth do you mean, darling?” Georgia asked, and fanned her cheeks.

  It was Fall, the breeze nipped at the best of times, yet the woman had chosen a cocktail dress for a mid-morning visit to a donut store.

  “I’ve just expanded Donut Delights with the help of my friend, Ronald Tombs.”

  “Ah,” Georgia said, and her face fell. “That’s unfortunate. I hoped to invest in your business, myself. You seem to have a lot of promise.”

  “Why now?” Amy asked. “Why today? I heard you’ve been investing in Hillside businesses for months.”

  Heather readjusted her position. Amy had a good point. Why would Georgia come to Heather the night after the murder? After the party where Heather had witnessed an altercation between Summers and the victim?

  “I’ve been avoiding restaurants and food businesses,” Georgia snapped. “I changed my mind yesterday after tasting the donuts you supplied.”

  Amy sniffed but didn’t comment.

  Georgia was stick-thin. She didn’t appear to be the kind of woman who ingested the dreaded carb.

  “Thank you for the offer,” Heather said. “But I’m not looking for investors, currently.”

  Georgia Summers pursed her lips. “Fine, then.”

  “May I ask you a question, Miss Summers?”

  “Of course,” she replied, but her shoulders sagged, and she took a single step back.

  “What was the argument between yourself and Mrs. Kenny about?” Heather asked.

  Georgia swallowed and touched her hair. “Oh, just an old rivalry between good friends.”

  “You mentioned –”

  “I’m sorry, dear, I have to run. Lots of work to do!” Georgia said, then turned and swept toward the glass front door. Her cocktail dress swished at her knees, and every eye in the store turned to watch her exit.

  The bell tinkled, the door slammed, and the store erupted into furious chatter. Sharon Janis would have a field day with this one.

  “Well,” Amy said. “That was fun.”

  Chapter 6

  Heather strode around the outside of the Kenny mansion and pressed her lips together. She had to be home soon to take Lilly on her trick or treat adventure, but Ryan had called with news that the crime scene was open to her.

  “There you are,” Ryan said and waved from the stairs beside the balcony.

  “Oh wow,” Heather replied. “I had no idea there was actual access to the balcony from the grounds. That changes things up a bit.”

  “You’re telling me.” Ryan dusted off his shirt, then pointed to the balcony above. “It’s an interesting design.”

  Heather brought out her pen and notepad, then scratched a note on the top line. “You mentioned there was evidence of a struggle?”

  “On the victim, yeah,” Ryan replied. He glanced up to the top of the stairs then rolled his eyes. Another officer stood there, his hands on his hips and eyes narrowed at Heather.

  Several cases and a lot of the folk at the humble Hillside Police Department still hadn’t gotten used to her presence at crime scenes.

&n
bsp; “Any news on the cause of death?” Heather asked, and tapped the nib of her pen on the page.

  “Oh yeah,” Ryan said. “She choked to death on a plastic ornament.”

  “What? How?”

  Ryan sighed and walked further into the garden. “It was a miniature pumpkin. Big enough to obstruct her air passage, but small enough to be an ornament.”

  “Or to be carried in your fist?” Heather asked and raised her hand for demonstration.

  “Exactly. The person who harmed her probably caught her by surprise.” Ryan scratched at his temple with the pen and marked his skin. “The autopsy suggested that they grabbed her from behind and inserted the decoration into –”

  “I get it, I get it,” Heather said, and waved her pen around. “So, this had to be someone strong, someone, she knew and someone tall.”

  “Yeah,” Ryan replied.

  “Or a woman in heels,” Heather whispered. “Georgia Summers came to visit me at the store today. She acted super strangely.”

  “Oh?” Ryan frowned and folded his arms, ballpoint still clutched in his fist.

  “Yeah. She said she wanted to invest in the store, but the minute I asked her about her altercation with Sarah Kenny, she got jumpy and practically ran right outta there.” Heather shook her head, and they walked further from the stairs and toward the window just to the left of the flight.

  “Interesting. We haven’t been able to get hold of her yet for an interview. Every time I turn up at her office, she’s out or in a meeting.” Ryan licked his lips. “Sounds like Georgia might be hiding something.”

  “As you always say, it’s too soon to jump to any conclusions.”

  Ryan winked at her, then glanced around the garden. He pointed at the small house nearby. “We’ve ascertained that the woman you saw in the garden had to be the maid who lives in there. She’s always on the premises, full time.”

  “Have you spoken with her?”

  “Yeah, she was very helpful if a little timid,” Ryan said, then unfolded his arms and checked his notes. “Woman by the name of Myra Jackson. She didn’t seem all that happy to see us, but she didn’t resist in answering any of our questions.”

  “Did she mention anything of interest?” Heather asked.