Dark Drizzles

by Jessica Beck

  Ray nodded. “What shape was the body in when you found it?”

  “Well, for starters, he was dead,” I said simply.

  “Come on, you’ve got to give me a little more than that, especially if you expect me to reciprocate.”

  I thought about it and decided to push it a little more than I’d meant to. “There was hair and blood on the edge of the dropper, so there’s no doubt it was used in killing him. I’d say the killer hadn’t planned on murdering Tom Johnson initially.”

  “Since he had to find a weapon in your shop in order to do it.” Ray nodded, satisfied with that last bit of my speculation. “Do the police agree with you about that?”

  “We didn’t discuss it,” I told him truthfully.

  “Come on, Suzanne. You were in there a long time with Chief Grant. Are you telling me that you didn’t talk about the murder at all? I know you weren’t exchanging recipes for bear claws.” Emma gave him a warning look, and that was all that it took. “What I mean to say is he must have said something about his thoughts about the case.”

  “Even if he did, which I won’t confirm or deny, it’s not my place to discuss it with you, just as you can be assured that I will keep our arrangement and any subsequent conversations private as well. Surely you can understand that.”

  “Of course,” he said. “Why kill the man, though, and in your donut shop, to boot? How did he even get inside? You were closed for the day, unless you forgot to lock the door.”

  Ray was dancing dangerously close to questions I wasn’t allowed to answer, and I was trying to figure out how to word my denials while keeping him as an ally when Emma spoke up. “Dad, don’t push your luck. She’s already given you more than I ever thought she would. Take what you can get and be happy about it.”

  “Agreed,” Ray said, stepping back a bit. “Thank you, Suzanne.”

  “You’re welcome. Just remember, this street runs both ways. You need to keep me in the loop, too.”

  “Oh, he will. He promises,” Emma told me before turning to her father. “Right, Dad?”

  “Right,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll be speaking again soon, Suzanne.”

  “I look forward to it,” I said.

  After he was gone, Emma said, “That was awfully nice of you to help him out. You didn’t do it for me, did you?”

  “Maybe a little, but we’re working on a severe time crunch here, and the truth of the matter is that I can use all of the help I can get. Do you have any interest in volunteering your services as well?” I asked with a smile.

  She shook her head. “No, thanks. I’ll leave the sleuthing to you and Grace. As for me, right here and now, I’m just happy being a donutmaker’s assistant.”

  “You’re a great deal more than that, and we both know it,” I said as I hugged her briefly.

  “I do, but it’s still good to hear you say it every now and then. Barton’s been after me to leave Donut Hearts and come work with him at his restaurant, but he knows I’m never going to do it.”

  The thought of losing her made me instantly sad, but then again, I couldn’t keep her from pursuing dreams of her own while she helped me achieve mine. “I love having you, you know that, but if you ever want to go, you’ve got my blessing.”

  She smiled softly. “And give up the exciting world of donuts? No thank you. At least not today, and probably not tomorrow, either.”

  “But someday, maybe,” I said.

  Emma just shrugged. “I think we have enough on our plates without worrying about something that far in the future, don’t you? Unless I’m mistaken, your timer is going to go off in three, two, one, now.” Instead of the beep though, there was only silence. “Man, how cool would that have been if I’d been right?”

  As she said the word “right,” the timer did indeed go off. “Hey, you were still pretty close.”

  “Close but no cigar, the story of my life,” Emma said with a grin. “Let’s go finish making the donuts, at least the first round of them. I’m expecting to be making more later without you, if the festival is as crowded today as it was yesterday.”

  “Unless I miss my guess, it’s going to be even more so. You know how it is. Nothing sells like sensation these days, and things don’t get much more sensational than murder.”

  “At least I’ll get some practice with the new dropper,” she said.

  “By the time the day is over, I have a hunch that you’ll be better at it than I am.”

  “Only in my dreams,” she said with a gentle smile as we walked back inside. As we did, I started to have second thoughts about taking Ray into my confidence. Had I actually helped our investigation, or had I made a deal with the devil by mistake? I wasn’t looking forward to telling Grace about the arrangement, but fortunately that could wait.

  For now, it was time, yet again, to make my treats, and at least in that I knew what I was doing.

  I might be an amateur sleuth, but I was a genuine pro when it came to making donuts.

  Chapter 11

  Emma and I worked at a fierce pace for the next few hours as we strove to meet our deadline, but thankfully, it appeared that we were going to make it in time as six a.m. approached. While it was true that I had opened Donut Hearts late a few times since I’d owned the shop, I prided myself on being dependable, always there for my customers when I said I was going to be, even if that meant that I had to race at breakneck speed to manage it on occasion.

  Five minutes before we were due to open, however, there was a persistent knock at the front door. “Whoever’s knocking is just going to have to wait,” Emma said as she ran the last batch of raised donuts through the icing station. “We don’t have time to scratch our noses, let alone entertain someone before we officially open for business.”

  “We’ve got this under control,” I said as I reached for a dishrag to mop up a spot where icing had splashed in my assistant’s overenthusiastic application. Emma and I had different methods of working, and that was putting it mildly, but I’d trained her well over the years, and I defied anyone to tell her donuts from mine, by either appearance or taste. “It’s nearly time anyway, and that’s the last batch we have to do.”

  “Until it’s time to make them all over again,” she sighed. “I’m beginning to wonder about the wisdom of serving hot donuts all day during the festival as well as in the morning on our regular schedule.”

  I grinned at her. “Sorry, but it’s too late to back out now. Tell you what. You can sleep in tomorrow until 5 a.m. I’ll handle things before that.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but we both know that’s not going to happen.”

  As I washed my hands, the knocking persisted. “I wonder who it might be,” she said. “It’s starting to sound kind of urgent.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” I looked at the clock. “Hopefully it’s just an enthusiastic customer who can’t wait to get their hands on a hot donut.”

  “I’d love that too, but what are the odds of it being true?” she asked me as I headed out of the kitchen.

  “If I were to wager a guess, I’d say somewhere between slim and none,” I said as I walked through the door and spotted Paige Hill, the bookstore owner and my event cosponsor, looking frantic as she was about to attack my front door again.

  From the expression on her face, something was clearly wrong.

  I just hoped that it wasn’t something new. I wasn’t sure I could take any more bad news at the moment.

  “Hey, what’s so urgent?” I asked her as I let her inside and flipped the CLOSED sign to OPEN. I needn’t have bothered, since no one else was waiting for us to open for the day, but what could it hurt to announce to the world that we were yet again open for business?

  “Suzanne, I feel terrible about what happened. I tried calling you last night, and then again this morning, but I couldn’t get through.”

  “If you called too late last night, I had my ringer turned off,” I said. It was something I hated to do, but I’d been forced to if I
was going to get any sleep at all during this festival. It seemed that no one else in April Springs kept my schedule, so if I didn’t carve out a little time for sleep, I’d be dead on my feet before this thing was over.

  “How about the shop’s phone?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure. We might have flipped the ringer off on it without realizing it. My landline here is kind of antiquated.”

  “Fine, but you should have called me. Or did you not want to see me?”

  So, she’d heard about the robbery and the murder. No wonder she was upset. Not only had we lost one of our authors, but she’d had her gross receipts stolen as well. It certainly explained why she was looking so agitated. “Listen, I was going to tell you this morning about what happened, but I couldn’t bring myself to call you last night. I’m sorry about the money you lost, Paige. I’ll try to make it up to you, even if it takes me a few years to do it.”

  “Suzanne, you don’t understand. I’m the one who’s to blame!”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked her. “You didn’t rob us, did you?”

  “No, of course not, but I may as well have.”

  I drew us a pair of coffees and guided her to one of our couches. After we were sitting down, I said, “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “Yesterday Rita, my part-time sales clerk, asked me about the day’s deposit, and I told her you were handling it. I even told her that it was in your safe at the donut shop. What an idiot I am!”

  “Do you honestly think Rita may have done it?” I asked. “Why would she kill Tom Johnson? I don’t think it’s possible that sweet little old lady has an ounce of murder or larceny in her.” Rita Delacourte had been an avid reader all her life, notorious around town for always having her nose in a book no matter what she was doing. The Last Page had been a godsend for her, and I knew that she’d begged Paige for a job the second she heard the shop was opening in April Springs.

  “Of course not. Rita’s as honest as they come,” Paige said, dismissing the suggestion.

  “Then what do you mean?”

  “I didn’t even think about who was around when I told her. It was in the bookstore, and all of the authors were discussing each other’s behavior on the panel yesterday. Suzanne, Tom must have heard about our money being stashed there, so he broke in and stole it.”

  “Who killed him, then?”

  “Probably whoever has our money now,” she said, her eyes swelling with tears. “And it’s all my fault.”

  I put my coffee down on the table in front of us, where Paige’s had sat from the moment I’d tried to hand it to her. Taking her hands in mine, I looked intently at her as I said, “Unless you picked up my donut dropper and hit him on the head, it wasn’t your fault. I was just worried that you’d blame me.”

  “Nonsense,” Paige said. “That thought never even crossed my mind. We’re in this together, through thick and thin.”

  “I appreciate that, but I’m still trying to figure out who killed Tom Johnson and get our money back as well,” I said.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.

  “Just keep your eyes and ears open,” I said. “I haven’t told the other authors about what happened yet. To be honest with you, I’m kind of dreading those conversations.”

  “You don’t have to tell them anything. They already know,” Paige said. “The police chief has already spoken with each one of them, and they’ve all agreed to carry on with the scheduled events for today.”

  So, Chief Grant was getting things done. Good for him. “That buys us a little time, at least. Grace and I are going to hit this thing hard. I’m not sure how long the chief can keep everyone here, so if we’re going to solve this murder and theft, we’ve got to be quick about it.”

  “Do you want me to take over your duties with the festival?” she asked, clearly unhappy about even making the offer. “I suppose I could handle today’s panel, if you really need me to step in.”

  “As much as I’d love to take you up on your offer, I have to do it myself. With any luck, I can trip one of them up while we’re all on stage, but in order to do that, I’m going to need to have some ammo first.”

  “Just let me know if there’s anything, and I mean anything, I can do to help.” Paige finally took a sip of her coffee before putting the mug back down. “I’m just relieved you aren’t upset with me.”

  “Right back at you,” I said as I patted her hand. “Try not to worry. We’ll figure this out one way or the other, and besides, if as many people show up today as I suspect they will, at least we’ll make money from that, so there’s a chance we’ll probably break even when all is said and done, even if we don’t find the money.”

  “As much as I hate to admit it, I suspect you are right. The ghouls will be in full force,” she said. “It’s terrible to say, but there’s at least one silver lining to this mess. I had the foresight to have all of the authors sign quite a few of their books for my stock yesterday before we even got started.”

  “Did you have a premonition that something might happen?” I asked her.

  “No, but I was counting on more than one of them storming off and leaving before I could sell autographed copies to my readers, so I wanted to be prepared. Oddly enough, Tom Johnson was the only one who’d grumbled about the request. He claimed that he wanted to personalize each and every one of them and sign them in his fans’ presence, but I finally convinced him to do it my way.” She got an impish little grin for a moment as she added, “I even made them sign books for each other, and I supplied the books, free of charge. I thought if they did that, they might act a little better towards each other once they were all onstage, but we all know how that worked out. Tom Johnson certainly had a healthy ego, though I probably shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”

  “Paige, what you just said was practically a compliment, considering how unpleasant we both know the man could be. That doesn’t change anything, though. He deserves justice just as much as everyone else does, and I’m going to do my best to see that he gets it.”

  Twenty minutes after Paige left, we’d had a handful of our regular customers, but not the crowd I’d been hoping for. Was it possible that my usual donut buyers didn’t realize we’d even be open this morning? I was fretting about it when the front door finally opened, but instead of it being someone there to buy donuts, it was Emma’s mother, Sharon.

  Putting on my best smile, I asked, “You just can’t stay away from this place, can you?”

  “Didn’t Emma tell you?” Sharon asked, looking clearly confused by my question.

  “Tell me what?” I asked.

  Instead of answering, she called out to the back, “Emma, come out here.”

  My assistant came out, wiping her hands on a clean dishtowel. “Hey, Mom. Oh. I forgot. Sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” Sharon said. “You’ve got a lot on your mind at the moment.”

  I coughed a bit. “Would someone mind telling me what’s going on?”

  “We figured you could use all of the time you could get,” Sharon said as she walked into the kitchen and grabbed her apron. As she put it on, she said, “As of right now, you are relieved of all of your donutmaking duties for the rest of the day. Emma called me, and I agreed with her, so I’m here to pitch in.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked her even as I was untying my apron.

  “Positive,” she said.

  As I was hanging my apron up, I heard the front door open, and a familiar voice asked, “What does a gal have to do to get a donut around here?”

  Chapter 12

  “Grace, what are you doing here?” I asked my best friend. “Isn’t it a little early in the morning for you?”

  “Hey, I can get up if I have to. Emma called me and told me you’d be free to do a little digging early, so I got ready and rushed right over. Before I had breakfast, I might add,” she said pointedly as she stared at the display case.

  I had to laugh. “Name it, and whatever you want is
on the house,” I said.

  “In that case, I’ll take one of everything,” she said with a smile.

  “That’s fine, but the only condition is that you have to eat them all here,” I answered.

  “In that case, one strawberry donut with extra sprinkles and a cup of coffee,” she said after studying the case.

  I got her what she’d asked for, putting the donut in a bag and then making up a cup of coffee in a paper cup so we could get started. As I did so, I turned to Emma. “When did you have time to make all of those phone calls? You’ve been a busy little girl, haven’t you?”

  “Suzanne, don’t be mad, but I know what you’re up against, and besides, you’re helping Dad, so I thought you could use a head start.”

  Grace’s left eyebrow rose quickly, but I’d deal with her later. “Whatever gave you the impression I was angry, Emma?” I asked as I hugged her. “Just don’t ever do it again, and we’ll be fine.” I made sure not to smile as I said it. I loved Emma like a daughter, but I didn’t like feeling as though I was being handled, even by the people I loved.

  “Sorry. I won’t. I promise.”

  “Good,” I said as I hugged her again.

  Sharon spoke up, but instead of the scolding I thought I might be getting, she looked absolutely stunned by our conversation. “What just happened there? Did she actually apologize to you? What’s your secret, Suzanne?”

  “I’d love to say that it’s clean living and a positive mental attitude, but it’s mostly because she’s not my daughter,” I said with a smile. “I’m sure you know what I mean.”

  “I do,” she conceded.

  “Hey, I’ve apologized to you before, too,” Emma protested.

  “Of course you have,” Sharon said with a smile.

  “Well, I have.”

  I took the opportunity to escape while we could. “Coming, Grace?”

  “I’m ready if you are,” she said as she slipped what was left of her donut back into her bag and took another sip of coffee. I’d noticed that she’d been nibbling while we’d been talking, but we didn’t really have enough time to sit down and relax.

  “Don’t forget these,” Emma called out as she rushed over with two boxes of donuts. “These are the pumpkin donuts you promised Trish and Hilda.”