Jealousy Filled Donuts

by Ginger Bolton

  “They were. They retired from the police force.”

  “That would be a good cover for someone who liked to snoop or for plainclothes policemen.”

  I laughed. “It would. But we have our own retired policeman working here most days.”

  “Tom’s nice, isn’t he.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Very.” I slid a tray of donuts into our display case and then returned to the work counter. And to my questions. “Did you ever see anyone threaten Taylor?”

  In a playful tone, Jocelyn accused, “You sound like a police officer. I told them, too. I never noticed any threats to her.”

  “What about from Kelsey and the other clerks at Freeze?”

  Jocelyn slathered pink icing on plain raised donuts. “They never made any threats. And of course Mama Freeze wasn’t threatening. She was going to promote someone to manage all of the clerks, and I think Taylor was the one Mama Freeze was planning to promote.”

  “What made you think that?”

  “Little things. Comments like we should all treat customers like Taylor did, and we could learn a lot from Taylor, and soon Taylor would be in a position to help us be better employees. It was pretty obvious.” Jocelyn quickly added, “It didn’t bother me, but when I heard that you might be looking for someone to work here for the summer, I applied and was happy to get the job.”

  “And we’re glad you did.”

  “Thanks.” Humming, she dotted the pink-frosted donuts with multicolored sprinkles.

  My phone rang. Another scam number. I didn’t answer. Sighing, I thrust my phone back into my apron pocket.

  “Expecting a call?” Jocelyn asked.

  I told her about my parents’ long silence and that I had expected them back sooner than this.

  “No news is good news when people go missing. They’ll turn up.” Jocelyn sounded about sixty instead of nineteen. It was cute.

  “Soon, I hope, so I can stop worrying about them.”

  “You talk like you’re the parent and they’re teenagers.” We weren’t facing each other, but I heard a smile in her voice.

  “I often feel that way.” Wondering how much consternation a girl like Jocelyn, who could probably hang by her ankles from chandeliers, must have caused her parents, I unlocked the front door and turned our WELCOME sign to face the sidewalk.

  Later, after the Knitpickers had been served, I was frying donuts. Jocelyn came into the kitchen and picked up a carafe of coffee for the retired men. She glanced toward the front of the store, thrust the carafe onto the marble counter, and scurried away, into the storeroom.

  Philip Landsdowner opened the front door and came inside.

  Chapter 24

  Luckily, the donuts were perfectly golden on both sides and ready to be lifted out of the oil. I quickly hung the basket to drain, grabbed the carafe of coffee that Jocelyn had unceremoniously left on the counter, and headed toward the front of the store.

  I must have resembled a mama bear protecting her cub. Philip Landsdowner glanced at me barreling toward him, opened the front door only enough to slip out, and left. Without stopping at one of our patio tables, he kept going to the sidewalk and turned south on Wisconsin Street.

  Maybe he had noticed Jocelyn’s flight into the storeroom, and he was going up our driveway and around to the back of Deputy Donut in hopes of . . . what? Taking a photo of her and then cutting her out of it?

  Both of our back doors, the one from the office and the one from the storeroom, were supposed to be locked whenever we weren’t using them. I was certain that the office door was, but had Jocelyn relocked the storeroom door that morning after she arrived?

  I poured coffee into the retired men’s cups and returned to the kitchen. With a clean carafe in one hand and a too-innocent look on her face, Jocelyn strolled out of the storeroom.

  “Did you go outside?” I asked her.

  She lifted the carafe. It partially hid her reddening face. “I went to get this.”

  “Philip Landsdowner came in, just barely, for less than a minute, and left when he saw me coming. He turned south on Wisconsin Street. I was afraid he might go up the driveway and come around to the back and try to get inside.”

  Jocelyn’s blush deepened. “Why would he do that?”

  I looked steadily at her. “I don’t know, but I don’t trust him. I’m sure the office door is locked, and besides”—I glanced into the office—“with all of those windows, we’d see him. Just to be safe, I’ll go check the door near the loading dock.”

  “I’m sure I locked it this morning, but . . .” She pointed at the fryer. “Want me to put those donuts you just fried on racks to cool?” I loved that she didn’t have to be told what to do. She offered or went ahead and did it. Her shoulders looked stiff, not her usual graceful posture. Then again, a gymnast might tense up like that if she was about to do a few handsprings.

  “Yes, please.”

  To my relief, the storeroom door was still locked. I went back to the kitchen and told Jocelyn. She didn’t look at me, but her shoulders lowered to their normal level. I peeked through the office to the portion of our parking lot that I could see. Philip Landsdowner was nowhere in sight.

  All morning, I missed Tom and his expertise at quickly frying and decorating donuts, but Jocelyn and I worked well together, and I didn’t notice any of the slacking off that Kelsey and Gabrielle had warned me about.

  In the afternoon, Duke Nicholas came in by himself. Except for his left arm being in a sling, the twentysomething with the spiky platinum hair and the deep tan looked not only healthy but also as strikingly handsome as he had when I’d first seen him in the sunlight at the parade-marshaling grounds.

  By the time I made it to him, one of his coupons for coffee and a donut was lying on the table beside him.

  I asked how he was doing.

  “Okay.” He touched his bandaged arm. “Almost the worst part for a lefty is learning to do everything right-handed.”

  Was that worse than losing your girlfriend to an early and probably painful death?

  I was being unfair. He probably couldn’t bear to discuss Taylor with people he didn’t know well.

  He wanted our special coffee for the day, a smooth, slightly fruity light roast from El Salvador. He ordered a cherry cheese-cake–filled donut to go with it.

  I returned to the kitchen and let Jocelyn serve him. She spent a long time at his table. He was smiling at her and talking in a much more animated way than he had on the Fourth of July in my car or later when the royal court made their walking tour of the square. He’d barely seemed to notice Jocelyn that time. To be fair, he’d been with Taylor.

  Jocelyn moved off to wait on other customers.

  Nicholas finished his donut and coffee and beckoned me to his table. He asked me quietly, “Do you know if Jocelyn’s dating anyone?”

  Ordinarily, I might have suggested that he should ask her himself, but in case he had murdered his previous girlfriend, I wasn’t about to encourage him to find more reasons to talk to Jocelyn. “She is.”

  After I went back to waiting on other customers, Nicholas stood and headed toward the front of the shop. I helped him with the door and watched him walk away.

  I wasn’t paying him much attention.

  I was thinking about the night of the Fourth. His left arm had been around Taylor before the firework went off behind them. The lighter we’d found had been close to where his left hand had been. Lighting a fuse behind the back of the person seated next to one would be difficult at any time. But in that situation, it would have been easier for a left-handed person than for a right-handed one.

  Shortly after four thirty, the last of our customers left. Jocelyn and I cleared the tables. She made a disgusted face. “Nicholas is creepy. How can he go around making passes at people right after his girlfriend died?”

  I rolled my eyes to show that I didn’t know the answer to that question. Glad that Jocelyn did not seem about to fall for Nicholas, I said, “You knew Taylo
r from high school and also from Freeze. Did you know Nicholas from school, too, or Gabrielle or Ian?”

  “I didn’t know any of them very well. They were in lots of clubs and the two guys played football. I was more of a bookworm, and my free time was taken up by ballet and gymnastics.”

  “Were the four of them popular?”

  “I guess.”

  “Were they friends with each other?”

  “Gabrielle and Taylor seemed to be, but I don’t know about Ian and Nicholas. Maybe they were, because of football. I don’t remember seeing them together, but I didn’t notice.”

  “Was Kelsey in their class?”

  “Yes. All three girls—Kelsey, Gabrielle, and Taylor—were cheerleaders. Taylor was head cheerleader.”

  “Were you a cheerleader?” She’d had the gymnastic skills even then.

  “I didn’t want to be one. Most of them, like Kelsey, Taylor, and Gabrielle, were snarky, including about one another. Which I guess is how you and I are acting right now . . .” She gave me a sidelong glance.

  I turned a chair upside down on top of a table. “It’s only gossip if someone else is doing it.”

  She laughed.

  I asked, “What did you think of Ian and Nicholas in high school?”

  “They were okay. Ian was president of Student Council and often made the honor roll. Nicholas was laid-back, like having lots of friends was more important to him than doing well in school. Maybe he was afraid that if he got good grades, he wouldn’t be popular. Or maybe he was afraid that even if he tried, he would still get only Bs and Cs.”

  “Did any of those four date each other back in high school?”

  “Ian and Taylor were already a couple when I started at Fallingbrook High, and they were still together when they graduated. Everyone thought they’d get married. I don’t know when they broke up.”

  “Gabrielle said it was after the royal court was elected. Did Gabrielle ever date Ian or Nicholas?”

  “I don’t think so, but I don’t really know.”

  “What about Kelsey?”

  “I’m pretty sure she had a crush on Ian in high school.”

  Maybe, if neither Kelsey nor Ian was guilty of harming Taylor, the two of them could find happiness together. And Gabrielle and Nicholas? Gabrielle had flirted with Nicholas when they were in my donut car, but Nicholas had been rude to her as if he didn’t like her. However, when it came to romance, people could do surprising things.

  Although knowing that Jocelyn might not want to discuss my next subject, I commented, “Kelsey said that Philip Landsdowner, the photographer, often came into Freeze and stared at you.”

  Jocelyn didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds. “She’s right. He did. I hated it. And that’s partly why I wanted to leave there.” She sighed. “It didn’t take him long to find me.”

  “If Philip Landsdowner or anyone else bothers you, tell me or Tom or one of the officers who come in here. We’ll make certain he stops.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m serious. I don’t want you to quit working here because a customer is making you uncomfortable.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll tell you.”

  “And you’ll be extra careful and observant, like when you’re riding your bike? I think he drives a small black car.”

  “He does. And I’ll be careful.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.” She didn’t smile. Her face was unusually pale.

  Chapter 25

  All the way home with Dep on her leash, I worried about Jocelyn and how to keep her happy and safe.

  Brent always told me to call him if I had concerns. As soon as Dep and I were locked inside our house, I phoned his personal line.

  He answered right away.

  “I’d like to talk to you about a few things that might or might not be related to Taylor’s murder,” I told him. “I’m not sure they’re important.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Where are you?”

  “At home.”

  “I’ll be over. I was just about to take a break. Can I bring dinner?”

  “Sure!” I disconnected and looked down at Dep. Her pupils were enlarged and her ears were turned almost backward, giving her an owlish look. “Brent’s coming.” I probably hadn’t needed to tell her. She must have heard his voice and guessed.

  Pretending something like indifference, she sashayed into the kitchen to her food and water bowls, but after a few bites of kibble and a couple of dainty laps at her water, she ran to the living room and sat down with her nose almost on the front door. She stayed there until footsteps sounded on the wooden porch. Then she stood up, sniffed at the crack between the door and the jamb, turned toward me, and meowed loudly.

  “I’m coming, Dep,” I said.

  The doorbell rang.

  I peeked out. It was Brent.

  I opened the door. He handed me several paper bags and smiled, but that detective watchfulness lurked behind his gray eyes, as if he was worrying about the information I’d said I had.

  In the kitchen, I opened the bags. He’d brought a meal from a new restaurant in town that featured foods from India—chicken tikka, spinach with Indian cheese, and spicy chickpeas, all to be served with basmati rice and tangy, salty Indian pickle.

  The dishes had been flavored with delicate and different combinations of freshly ground spices, many of which I couldn’t name, but which were delicious. We mopped up the sauces with yummy chunks of yeast-leavened naan.

  After we ate, Brent took his notebook from a jacket pocket. “What did you want to tell me?”

  “I had yesterday off. I drove to my parents’ campsite. Something peculiar happened.” I told him about the small black car staying at a distance behind my car all the way back to Fallingbrook and described how I’d encouraged it to stop following me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday?”

  “I wasn’t sure it was important.”

  “And are you sure now?”

  “No, and I didn’t get a good look at the driver, but I thought it was Philip Landsdowner.”

  “Did you come into the station?”

  “No, merely driving into your lot was enough. And there could be an explanation for someone following me around three sides of the square, like bad navigational advice.” I took a deep breath and smiled a little sheepishly. “Also, I didn’t want to take the time. I needed ice cream to take to Misty’s last night.”

  He obviously understood the reason for my sheepish smile. “You needed ice cream from Freeze, where you knew Taylor used to work.” It wasn’t quite an accusation about possibly interfering in a police investigation.

  “Freeze makes the best ice cream.”

  “Granted.” I saw a twinkle in those gray eyes. “And what you brought last night was good. So, tell me what you learned at Freeze.”

  “Probably the most important thing is that both Kelsey and Mama Freeze needed to control tears when discussing Taylor. Also, Kelsey said that someone who was probably Philip Landsdowner used to come into Freeze and stare at Jocelyn and also at other clerks. And then, today, Jocelyn and I were working at Deputy Donut alone, and Landsdowner came in. Again, Jocelyn rushed into the storeroom where she would be out of his sight. I headed toward the front. And that’s when Landsdowner did something strange. I know he saw me coming toward him, but he left without talking to anyone or ordering anything. It was like he wasn’t going to stay if he couldn’t talk to Jocelyn.”

  “Or Tom.”

  Knowing that Brent sometimes liked to play devil’s advocate, I grinned. “I didn’t think he was looking for Tom, but I could be wrong. And he definitely did not want to talk to me. He seems much too interested in Jocelyn, while it’s obvious, at least to me, that she does not want to be around him. Or even to be seen by him.”

  “We’ll have another talk with him. Is anything else worrying you? It doesn’t matter how small it seems. Anything might be the piece that puts the puzzle together and solves a murder.”<
br />
  “Maybe you know this, but Mama Freeze told me that she carried a cooler of ice cream to the fireworks, and that Felicia always carries a large tote of hairdressing supplies. Both of them could have hidden that homemade skyrocket and stack of donuts in things they were carrying.”

  Brent wrote in his notebook.

  I probably hadn’t learned anything at Frisky Pomegranate that Brent didn’t already know. Investigators would have questioned Gabrielle about where she was and what she did on the Fourth of July. Brent would know that, if the family had left that bag of donuts in the coatroom, anyone who’d been in Frisky Pomegranate that evening could have picked it up. He might also have looked inside Frisky Pomegranate’s coatroom and determined, as I had, that if a bag containing several of our special Fourth of July donuts had been left there on the Fourth, it was long gone.

  I suspected that, in case investigators found my fingerprints in Frisky Pomegranate, I should tell Brent about my visit there, but I didn’t want to admit that I’d been snooping.

  There were a couple of other potential clues that Brent might not know, though. I told him, “Jocelyn said that Taylor was often late to work at Freeze, often missed days, and worked hard only when Mama Freeze was watching. Jocelyn told me she was almost positive that Mama Freeze was planning to promote Taylor to supervise the other clerks.”

  “Interesting,” Brent said.

  “Also, Deputy Donut customers sometimes don’t realize that they’re revealing possibly incriminating information about themselves. Today, Taylor’s boyfriend, Nicholas, came into Deputy Donut. He didn’t seem to be grieving over Taylor at all. When I asked how he was doing, he only answered that his arm wasn’t too bad. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism, but he flirted with Jocelyn, and later he asked me if Jocelyn was dating anyone.”

  “That could be a reaction to losing someone. Twentysomethings can be socially inept.”

  “But losing his girlfriend to death. To murder.”