Glazed

by Deany Ray

  “So none of you knows anything about a small explosion?” he asked pointedly.

  Celeste pretended to look shocked. “Did you say explosion? Is everyone okay?”

  He watched us suspiciously. “There were no injuries. It was a small incident. We were working at the home of the gentleman whose body you discovered. Something exploded near the house, apparently a can of some sort or another.”

  “You don’t say, officer?” As if it were some kind of explosive, Eddy danced his straw up through the air in a winding path while he made a hissing sound. Then he threw it down and whispered, “Boom!”

  Alex stared at him, then he turned to us. “A neighbor said he noticed a couple of women near the house.” He looked each of us in the eye. “Would that happen to be you?”

  “Nuh-uh! It wasn’t us,” Marge said, her eyes growing wide. “We were shopping for a lamp, a really, really cute one with a little dangly thing hanging off the shade.”

  “What would we be doing there?” Celeste frowned at Alex as she picked up her coffee. “Bert hasn’t gotten back to me about letting us go in – which he should have done by now.”

  “And, as everybody knows, you three make a habit of playing by the rules.” Alex stuck his phone back in his pocket.

  “So that answers that,” I took a sip of soda, trying to ignore the sarcasm in his voice.

  Just then, Eddy pressed the side of his leg against mine. I tried to move away, but I was already on the edge and almost toppled into Alex, who caught me before I fell.

  “Thank you,” I said, red-faced as he handed me my glasses.

  Lovely, lovely day.

  As I settled back into the booth, I kicked Eddy underneath the table. This crap stops right now, I thought.

  “It sounds like you had quite a day,” Marge said, glancing up at Alex. “That explosion is almost certainly connected to the murder case! Don’t you think so, detective?”

  “I intend to find out,” he said, still frowning.

  “And those women, we should look for them,” I said. “Those women could be the key.”

  Alex rubbed his head as if warding off a headache. “Yes, those women could be trouble. Those women making trouble are the story of my life.”

  Celeste’s voice turned hard. “We told you it wasn’t us.”

  Eddy leaned back in his seat. “Regardless of which women you’re talking about, you’re talking trouble, right? There’s only a certain kind of woman that you like to have around.” He gave me a wink.

  Alex was speechless. Finally, he looked at Eddy. “Who the hell are you?”

  “This is Celeste’s cousin, Eddy,” I said. “Eddy has…come here for a visit.”

  Alex raised an eyebrow. “A visit?”

  Maybe that was stupid. For all I knew, the cops in town all knew Eddy at first glance. In that case, they would surely know that he lived in Springston and was no visitor to town. I just didn’t want to volunteer that he was helping with the case. If Alex ever found out who Eddy really was, it would be marked against us – working with a man who most often spent his time on the wrong side of the law.

  “Oh, we’re so grateful he’s here,” Celeste explained to Alex. “You see, he knows a thing or two about working with computers.” She looked around the restaurant and then spoke in a low tone. “He’s gonna show us all the basics, so we’ll know what to do. You know – in case of customers.”

  I felt Eddy’s arm move back across my shoulders. “Yeah, I know some stuff that I can teach this girl,” he said. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  I’d finally had enough. I moved his arm away. “Will you just cut it out?”

  Eddy grinned at me then winked at Alex. “This is a feisty one. Like I said, women…”

  “Didn’t I arrest you once?” Alex interrupted.

  My heart seemed to stop. I exchanged panicked looks with Marge and Celeste.

  “You might have,” Eddy said, speaking breezily as if it were all a game.

  “And you’re helping them…with computers?” Alex glanced at us, confused.

  Eddy nodded. “Like Celeste just said, they’re grateful for my presence.”

  We had to lose the cousin and we had to do it soon.

  Alex looked back at his phone. “Okay, I’ve got to go.” He looked at me long and hard. I recognized that look. It wasn’t anger; it was worry. It made his eyes look softer and, despite my most valiant efforts, it made me kind of want to melt.

  “Charlie, you be careful,” he said quietly.

  “She knows the drill,” Celeste said.

  “I’ve got it down,” I told him wearily. “The case involves a murder now and I need to be aware of everything around me. It’s dangerous out there.” I gave him a small smile. “We’ve had this talk before.”

  “I’m not talking about the murder or the investigation.” He stared Eddy down.

  “Oh,” I said, surprised.

  “I’ll see you around,” Alex said and hurried off.

  “Dude, the lady will be fine,” Eddy called behind him. He stood up from the booth and stretched. “Well. That was interesting. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a piss.”

  Gross.

  When he was out of sight, Marge leaned in eagerly. “Charlie, did you see that? Alex was so jealous! That man’s got it bad for you. I’ve always thought it was true love.”

  I leaned back in my seat. “He was mad is what he was. I don’t think he believed us.”

  “But he has no proof,” Celeste said as she took a sip of coffee.

  “And what is it with your cousin?” I asked. “Why is he here again?”

  “I hate to say it, Celeste,” Marge said, “but he needs to…behave.”

  “The guy seems to think that ‘cut it out’ means ‘move a little closer,’” I said.

  “Believe me, I’m not happy about having him around either,” Celeste said. “He’s been a jerk. I’m sorry. The thing is that the family just insisted that he help – if you can call it that. Eddy is…just Eddy. Sometimes he’ll surprise you, though. When it comes to getting something done, he can have some good ideas.”

  I glanced at Marge.

  “He can have a good idea at any moment now,” Marge said as she raised an eyebrow. “Tell him that we’re waiting.”

  “So far, I really hate his ideas,” I said to Celeste, “and until we lose him, you’re sitting in the back seat with him.”

  A waitress appeared beside the table and set out our food. As I bit into my burger, I felt out of sorts. It had felt wrong to lie to Alex, but I’d been kind of stuck. No way could I have let him catch Celeste in that closet. I dipped a fry into my ketchup. And as for Eddy, hopefully Alex didn’t get the idea that I had something going on with a creep extraordinaire in designer jeans. Still, it had been fun to see the jealous look he gave us when Eddy made his creepy moves.

  I pushed the glasses higher up my nose and jammed two fries into my mouth. Alex and me. Me and Alex. What does the future hold for us?

  ***

  We piled into the car with our stomachs full enough that I just wanted to curl up in the back seat and take a nice, long nap. When we’d almost finished with our meals, my dad had sent out apple pie with big scoops of ice cream melting into the warm crust. He later came out of the kitchen to see how I liked my pie.

  “Better fill up, darling,” he said, hiding a smile behind his solemn look. “You never know what you’ll find tonight on the kitchen table.”

  Wasn’t that the truth.

  As we drove away, Marge said, “It’s kind of a shame to feel as full as I do when we’re heading to a doughnut shop.”

  “You’re right,” Celeste said. “I shouldn’t have had that second piece of pie.”

  Things proved to be busy on the block where The Glazed Doughnut Box sat next to the bank. Marge parked across the street, taking the last spot.

  Inside, the shop looked cozy. White metal chairs with yellow and purple vinyl seats were grouped around small tables. I
looked around to take note of every door or exit I could find. There were restrooms to the side. An open door in the back led to what appeared to be a hall. Hmm. I would love to get a closer look back there.

  The star of the room was a long counter with a glass case underneath, showcasing a huge array of doughnuts. How had I grown up in Springston and never been inside this place? The treats looked fresh and fabulous. Despite my recent heavy meal, I wanted one right then.

  I gazed at the selection, trying to pick my favorite. Some had icing dripping off the tops; others were filled with cream. Each bin had a small sign with the name of the gourmet treat. Oh, be still my heart. There were carrot-cake doughnuts with icing piled high. There were cinnamon-apple confections that I could almost taste. I bent down to peer at a stack of doughnuts with caramel-bacon topping; those seemed to be going fast. I stared longingly at a doughnut covered with chocolate icing and peanut butter sprinkles.

  If you had to find a body, I guessed that this place was as good as you were gonna get. The smell of strong coffee filled the air, mingling with the sugary aromas. The place seemed to be getting steady business. About a third of the tables were filled with customers, who were talking quietly.

  “Let’s get the twelve-box special,” Marge said, glancing at a blackboard with daily specials written in pink chalk. Each of us picks three. Although there are at least eight kinds that I have to try. Oh, what to do and how to choose?”

  We stepped up to the counter, where a young girl looked shyly up at us from the stack of menus she was straightening. She was pretty in a boring way: thin with lanky blonde hair and a pale complexion.

  “Can I help you?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  Time to get to work.

  “Hi. Can we speak to the owner, please, or the manager?” I asked.

  The girl turned even paler and backed away in fright. “What? What did I do wrong?” She looked like she might cry.

  Yikes. Overexaggerating much?

  “No, hon, everything’s good,” Marge said, who had a pet peeve about customers who upset service people. “You were friendly! Welcoming! You did everything you should. This isn’t about you.”

  The girl clasped her hands together nervously. “I know I’m not the best at this, but this is my first week. I’m learning to be better! And if I’ve done something wrong, I am so, so sorry.”

  “You didn’t…” I began.

  “I can’t lose this job!” she interrupted. “I have to keep this job. I try to keep the counter stocked and napkins on the table. I sweep up every hour. I’ve almost memorized the menu, but the specials are different every day. Every day they change! It’s so confusing, really, because…”

  It was Eddy’s turn to interrupt. He gently took her hand and said in a calm voice, “I’ve been in many doughnut shops, and you, my lovely one, are the most delightful doughnut girl that I’ve ever seen. I’ll be sure to tell your boss.”

  She smiled, and I made a mental note that even an egotistical cad served a purpose now and then.

  “What you need to understand,” he said, squeezing her hands in his, “is that we are here on business and not primarily to order food. That’s the only reason that my colleague here asked to see the man in charge.”

  He would assume it was a man.

  “If I came in here for doughnuts,” he continued, flashing her a smile, “I would take great pleasure ordering from you.” He winked. “Now, if I may be so bold to say it, this place is filled with scrumptiousness, both behind the counter and in the doughnut case.”

  This guy was too much, but the girl looked like she was about to fall into a trance as she stared at him with wide eyes. Then she reluctantly pulled her hands away. “I’ll go get my boss,” she whispered. She headed through a door which I assumed led back to the kitchen.

  I wished I could take the girl aside and talk to her about the kind of guys she should stay away from at all costs.

  Soon, a small woman appeared before us in a flour-covered apron. She didn’t look happy to have visitors. She just greeted us with a solemn nod and peered at us through thick glasses.

  “I understand you would like to see the owner, and that would be me,” she told us. “My name is Chin-Sun Park.”

  “Fabulous, fabulous shop,” Marge said, giving her a smile. “And an excellent employee at the counter.” Marge gave Doughnut Girl a wink.

  “We’re private investigators,” I said, handing her a card. It listed our phone numbers but no names except the firm’s. “We’re looking into the death of a Mr. Peter Clayton, whose body was discovered right by the alley next to your shop yesterday. Could we talk somewhere in private?”

  The woman hesitated and began to back away. “I’m sorry, but today’s a busy day, and I must get back to the kitchen.”

  Celeste held out her hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Park. My name is Celeste Ortiz. We just have a few quick questions if you will allow us a moment of your time.”

  The woman nodded warily as she glanced back at the kitchen.

  “We’ll make it brief,” Celeste said. “Did you know the deceased?”

  “As I told the officers, I didn’t know the man,” she said.

  “Do you think he might have ever come into the shop?” I asked.

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “How long have you owned the place?” Celeste asked.

  “My husband and I bought it ten years ago last month,” the tiny woman said. She kept glancing at the floor and brushing at her apron. Something about the questions was causing her much stress.

  Celeste leaned across the counter and tried speaking to her in a confidential voice. “Perhaps you could help us understand what might have happened yesterday. You see, we were told that witnesses thought they saw two men come out a back door of the shop – with a heavy garbage bag that might have held the body.”

  Doughnut Girl was hovering close by, her eyes growing wider. I bet she didn’t expect this much action in her first week.

  “I know nothing about a garbage bag!” the owner cried, twisting her apron into knots. “I’ve talked to the police. I’ve told everything I know. Which is actually nothing.” All the while, she backed away until she was nearly in the kitchen. “And now I must go,” she said as she disappeared.

  “Well, that was a bust,” I said to the others.

  Celeste sighed. “Yeah, she couldn’t get away fast enough.”

  Marge smiled at Doughnut Girl and called her over to us. “Now, we’d like some doughnuts,” she said, gazing at the treat-filled case.

  The girl spoke to us in a hushed voice. “Such a tragedy. I heard about it this morning when I came to work and I couldn’t believe it.”

  The poor thing must be scared to death. Heck, waiting on a customer was scary to this girl; now she had to listen to talk about a murder.

  “So, you weren’t here yesterday when the body was found?” I asked.

  “Luckily, no. It was my day off,” she said, her eyes still the size of tomatoes. She leaned in. “Were there really two men with a garbage bag? Right here at the shop?”

  “We don’t know a whole lot,” I tried to reassure her. “Nothing is for sure. It might have nothing to do with The Glazed Doughnut Box.”

  “But who was it that saw them? Did this witness get a good look at the people with the bag? Do the police know who the men were, the men who…maybe had a body?” She whispered the last three words, as if the words themselves might jump up and slit her throat.

  “Like we said, we’re still in the process of finding out what happened,” Celeste said to the girl. “You shouldn’t feel unsafe.”

  I knew chances were low, since she’d only been working here for a week, but I still asked. “Did you know Peter Clayton? Ever see him in here or hear someone say his name?”

  “Is that the man who…died?”

  We nodded.

  Doughnut Girl tilted her head to the side and I could almost see the wheels in her head spinning.


  “I’m sorry, I really didn’t hear that name before,” she said, almost sorry that she couldn’t help.

  “Have you noticed anyone here, anyone at all, acting different or suspicious since you started working here?” Marge asked.

  “Not at all, everyone seems so nice,” Doughnut Girl said. “I really can’t believe someone was found dead here.”

  Yeah, and I can’t believe it was me who found that someone.

  “I thought this was a happy place,” she continued. “Doughnuts! Flavored coffee! And just look at the bright colors.” She caught her breath. “Let me ask you something. Do they know why anyone would want to kill this Mr. Clayton? Do you think he was a nice man? I could cry this very minute.”

  I was afraid she might indeed start weeping onto the bright orange trays, so I quickly changed the subject. “Oh, I can’t look at all these doughnuts for another second without putting in an order,” I said, brightly.

  “Look at how fancy that pink one is,” Marge said, catching on.

  While we made our selections, Eddy – who was suspiciously silent – wandered around the shop, his hands in his pockets, looking slightly bored. He seemed to be taking it all in. The crowd had thinned by then. An elderly man and woman were sitting at one table, quietly sipping coffee. A doughnut had been cut in half and sat waiting on their table. At a smaller table in a corner, a man sat by himself with a newspaper spread out before him while he drank his coffee.

  Still looking startled by what she’d heard, Doughnut Girl handed us our order, packed up in a pink box. “Please enjoy your doughnuts,” she said quietly. “I hope I did okay.”

  “You did just fine,” I told her.

  “Absolutely perfect,” Marge said. “Anyone that hands me a big box with an apple fritter doughnut and a Red Velvet Cake Delight? That person is my hero forever and forever.”