Perjury Proof

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Perjury Proof Page 8

by Jessica Beck


  “No, these are for Rick. He did me a favor coming in, so I’d like to thank him for taking the trouble.”

  “And nothing says thank you like coffee and donuts, at least not as far as I’m concerned,” I said with a smile.

  “What do I owe you for the extra?”

  “Would you believe your change covers it exactly?” I asked with a grin.

  He took out two single dollar bills and put them on the counter. “Not a chance.”

  I didn’t take the money, though. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to trade donuts and coffee for information, would you?”

  “Suzanne, you know better than to even ask,” he said. I was about to apologize for pushing him too far when he added, “For example, I couldn’t tell you that the poisoned pills had been dipped in some bizarre chemical I’d never heard of until tonight.”

  “It surely wouldn’t be vanalaxis macromium, would it?” I asked.

  He looked surprised by my information. “No, it wouldn’t be,” Darby said as he nodded his head up and down. “Or that there were no fingerprints at all on the doorknob you discovered earlier.”

  “Oh, no. I didn’t rub them off beyond recognition, did I?” It was hard enough staying out of the official investigation, but if I destroyed evidence that might prove valuable to them during my own searches, I’d never be able to forgive myself.

  “No, that doorknob had been polished within an inch of its life,” he said, raising his eyebrows to show that it was significant.

  I got it instantly. Whoever had gone that way, either in or out, must have been up to no good. Why else do their best to cover their tracks? It was a clue provided by the absence of something, not its presence, like the dog that didn’t bark in the night.

  “Is there anything else that you’re not allowed to tell me?” I asked him with a grin.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head in the negative to vouch for what he was saying. “That’s all we’ve got so far.”

  “Well, don’t keep me posted about anything else,” I said, shaking my head up and down so vigorously I almost dislocated my neck.

  He didn’t answer in kind, only laughing as he left the donut shop. I was still thinking about where we stood in our unofficial investigation when my timer went off. I needed to get back to my yeast donuts, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t ponder everything I’d learned as I worked.

  “Excuse me, miss. Can you help me?” a middle-aged man asked me as he studied my display cases full of donuts an hour after I’d opened for the day. I’d offered to wait on him twice during the ten minutes he’d been in Donut Hearts, but he’d steadfastly refused both times. I was more than happy to help him now, especially since he was blocking other people who apparently already knew what they wanted.

  “I’d be delighted,” I said. “What can I get you?”

  “Well, the problem is that I don’t see it here, but I’d know it if you’d just name the kinds of donuts you usually serve, I’d be able to come up with it,” he said with a puzzled frown.

  “Seriously? That would be quite a list,” I said, looking at the four people standing behind him waiting in line.

  “Oh, I’ve got loads of time. I don’t mind,” he said with a grin.

  “Tell you what. Why don’t you have a seat right over there and we can chat while I’m waiting on these other nice folks?” I thought it was a perfectly reasonable request, but apparently I was alone in my assumption.

  “So, are you saying that you won’t wait on me?” he asked as he started to cloud up.

  “I’m not saying that at all,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice level and even. Part of working with the public meant that I couldn’t just spout off at someone who happened to annoy me, but some of my customers really pushed the limit. “If you could just tell me what you like, I’d be more than happy to serve you promptly and with a smile.”

  “Is it my fault that I can’t remember what the bloody thing is called?” he asked me heatedly.

  Well, yeah, kind of. “Tell you what. Let’s see if we can’t see to you right now. Is it a cake donut, or a yeast one?”

  “What’s the difference?” he asked.

  Had this man ever even had a donut before in his life? I reached into one of the cases and pulled out one of each. “This is called a cake donut. It uses batter instead of dough, and its consistency is, well, for want of a better term, cakelike. You can use the basic recipe, or enhance the batter with lots of different flavors.” I showed him the plain cake donut and broke it apart so he could see. Then I took the yeast donut and explained, “These are made from a dough, and they are light and airy compared to the cake donuts. They all have the same basic makeup, but they are either stuffed or iced with different flavors. Now, which one are you thinking of?”

  “Is there a third choice?” he asked, and I saw Perry David roll his eyes dramatically, making a joke out of it, as was his habit with just about everything. I knew that there was an underlying truth to his protest, but Perry was just going to have to wait. I was on a mission now.

  “Of course. We have apple fritters and bear claws and lots of yummy things like that,” I said, pointing to where I usually stocked them. I had a few claws left, but a stranger had bought me out of fritters an hour earlier, which was always a mixed blessing. I loved making a big sale, but I hated disappointing customers who were looking for a special treat that I no longer had.

  “Apple. That’s it,” he said. “I want one of those.”

  “I’m truly sorry, but we sold out earlier,” I said, and he started to frown immediately. Before he could rant about how unprepared I was, I offered, “I have some apple-flavored donuts that I think you’ll like. There are real apple pieces in the cake batter.”

  “I don’t know. It’s not the same, is it?”

  I shrugged as I grabbed a donut anyway and put it on a napkin. “Try it. If you don’t like it, it’s on the house. Strike that. You don’t have to pay for it even if you love it. How’s that for a deal?”

  “Okay. I guess it will do,” he said a little glumly. Honestly, some people weren’t even happy getting something for nothing. “How about something to drink?”

  I quoted him the price for a cup of coffee, and it was clear he’d expected me to throw that in for free as well. “No, just the donut will be fine,” he answered a little sullenly.

  I put one of the apple donuts in a bag, not even asking him if he wanted to eat it there at the donut shop. The faster I could get this guy out of Donut Hearts, the better, as far as I was concerned. He didn’t even seem to notice my conscious decision to keep him moving. Instead of taking the hint, he stayed right in his seat and promptly started eating the free donut, frowning with every bite. Sometimes you just couldn’t win.

  “Sorry about that, Perry,” I said as the next customer approached the counter. “What can I get for you?”

  Perry pretended to study the choices for a full ten seconds before he said, “I think an apple fritter sounds perfect.”

  I had to laugh, knowing the man as I did. He was usually good for a quick smile or a laugh, and I enjoyed having him around. “Fine,” I said.

  “I didn’t think you had any fritters left,” the man I’d turned down earlier said guardedly.

  “That’s because you didn’t use the secret word,” Perry said as he turned to him with a smile.

  “Don’t believe a word he tells you,” I said. “I’m truly out of fritters. I was just going to offer him the same deal I gave to you. Surely you can’t have a problem with that.” I stared at him, my smile never wavering a bit.

  “No, I suppose that’s fine.”

  There were four more apple cake donuts left, so I grabbed the entire tray and pulled it out. “Who else wants to take me up on my one-time-only offer?”

  Seven hands shot up. “Sorry, but it’s first come, first served,” I
said. “I have only four left.”

  Perry looked pleased to be among the chosen few, but after he collected his free donut, he made a show of pulling out his wallet, extracting a five-dollar bill, and stuffing it into the tip jar. Then he smiled brightly at me as he added, “Thank you.” I was about to protest his tip when he turned to the stranger and said, “By the way, ‘thank you’ is the secret word.”

  “Technically, that’s two words,” the stranger said with a frown.

  I wasn’t sure how Perry would react to the obvious scolding nature of the man’s tone, but I surely wasn’t expecting him to start laughing, loud and long. It was infectious, and soon everyone in the donut shop, with one notable exception, was laughing, too.

  The man shoved the remnants of his free donut aside and headed for the door, but not before saying, “You are all stark raving mad.”

  “Don’t we know it,” Perry said, barely able to choke out the words from laughing so hard.

  “Take your five back,” I told him once the man was gone. “You made your point, which was greatly appreciated, I might add.”

  “Are you kidding? You earned every dime of that. I haven’t laughed that hard in ages. See you tomorrow,” he said before pausing at the door and adding, “I’m hoping you’re out of apple fritters again.”

  “Not much chance of that happening,” I said with a smile.

  I managed to get through the rest of the morning with a smile thinking about what had happened, but that all ended ten minutes before I was due to close up for the day and take up my second job, amateur sleuthing.

  And that was when trouble walked through the front door, whether I was ready for it or not.

  Chapter 8

  “I’ve been doing some digging on my own, Suzanne,” Gabby Williams said as I spun around to face her. “Why are you here making donuts when my niece’s freedom might be at stake?”

  “Is the police chief focusing on her exclusively?” I asked Gabby. At least the shop was experiencing one of its all-too-frequent lulls, so we didn’t have to keep our voices down.

  “Not that I’m aware of. It’s only a matter of time, though, isn’t it? She was alone with Maggie when she died, so who else could it have been?”

  “Is that what you came to tell me, that there’s no one else we should even be considering?” I asked her. If that was her way of supporting Leanne, it wasn’t a very good one.

  “Of course not. Right now I’ve got three brand-new names for you to investigate, but that’s going to be hard to do if you’re standing around here making donuts and waiting on customers.” She seemed to notice for the first time that we were alone in Donut Hearts. “By the way, where are all of your customers?”

  “Beats me,” I said as I wiped the countertop with a clean towel. “That’s what I’ve been asking myself for the past six months.”

  “Don’t worry, once the cool weather kicks in, they’ll be back.”

  “Can you guarantee that?” I asked her. I’d won a decent sum with a scratch-off ticket earlier, but that money was nearly gone, and I couldn’t count on Lady Luck to keep smiling down upon me. Things weren’t dire just yet, but they were heading in that direction. What was it with people? Were they cutting out fattening treats altogether? What joy did that bring them in their lives? I counted on crowds of folks indulging themselves at least once in a while, but as things stood, that group now was barely a handful.

  “Of course I can’t, but it just stands to reason. After all, we’re still in bathing-suit season. Not for me, of course, but for a lot of people.”

  Gabby was trim and neat in her stylish outfits, and it killed me that she would probably look better in a bathing suit than I would. “You know, you still have the figure to pull it off,” I said.

  My neighbor grinned for a split second before recapturing her composure. “What complete and utter nonsense. Now, do you want to hear these names or not?”

  “By all means,” I said, grabbing an order pad and a pen as a joke.

  “Good. At least you are taking this seriously.” Her approval made me smile, but I did my best to choke it back. In the process of doing that, I literally choked on my own saliva and started coughing for a few moments before I could get myself under control. Gabby looked at me with displeasure, and when I was finally able to stop, she tapped my pad. “The first person you should investigate is Crusty Lang, while the second needs to be Jane Preston.”

  “I’ve known Mrs. Preston forever, since she was my teacher in school, but I don’t really know Crusty all that well,” I said, failing to write either name down at the time. “Besides, why would either one of them poison Maggie?” Crusty was an undersized fellow, a confirmed bachelor who liked to think of himself as a ladies’ man. He’d flirt with any female from twenty to sixty, which, even at the highest end of the scale, was still younger than he was.

  “Let’s take Crusty first. He and my cousin had a tryst last month, and he wasn’t at all happy when Maggie ended it,” Gabby said archly.

  “Hang on a second. You’re telling me that the bantam rooster was thinking about settling down?” That’s what we called Crusty, at least behind his back. He was just like a bantam, small in size but extra large in ego and bravado. With a shock of yellowish-white hair much like a rooster’s comb atop his head, Crusty’s arrogant strut made the comparison even more noticeable.

  “You’d be amazed by the scope of men Maggie attracted, despite her rather unpleasant demeanor at times,” Gabby said. “Suzanne, why aren’t you writing any of this down?”

  I took a few quick notes, as though there was any chance I could ever wipe the image of Crusty and Maggie out of my mind, and then I turned back to Gabby.

  “Got it. Now what about Mrs. Preston?” Jane Preston was a retired schoolteacher and just about as sweet a woman as you’d ever want to meet. “Why should she have an issue with Maggie?”

  “Didn’t you know? Dear, you really must get out of this shop every now and then, or life is going to pass you by.”

  “I’ll see what I can do about that, but in the meantime, what about Mrs. Preston? What possible reason could she have to kill Maggie?”

  “Clearly more than you realize. It appears that the two women were rivals for Crusty’s affection,” she said smugly.

  “I don’t believe it,” I said, shaking my head so hard it rattled my teeth. There was no way I could see Jane enamored with that cocky little man. I hadn’t even realized she’d dated anyone after her husband had passed away the year before.

  “It’s true enough, and if you don’t believe me, you can ask her yourself,” Gabby said before looking at her watch. “Why don’t you close the donut shop early? No one else is coming in, anyway,” she added.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said just as a group of six people in their mid-twenties came into Donut Hearts, thankfully disproving Gabby’s dire prediction.

  One particularly happy man waved a twenty-dollar bill in the air. “Donuts for my friends, and fresh water for our horses.”

  “Wayne, stop it. This lady is going to think you’re crazy,” one of the women said with a laugh.

  “Hey, as long as you’re buying donuts for everyone, I’ll think anything you’d like me to,” I said with a grin.

  “This, my friends, is a woman after my own heart,” the young man said.

  “What exactly are we celebrating?” I asked him, happy to have their glowing enthusiasm in my shop. The place had been somber enough lately.

  “I just got engaged,” he said proudly.

  I looked at the three women with him. “Excellent. Which one of you deserves my congratulations?” I asked them happily.

  “Suzanne, you are never supposed to congratulate a bride,” Gabby said dismissively. “You wish her well.”

  “Either way, she’s not here, thank goodness, so it really doesn’t matter,” one of
the girls replied.

  “Where is the lucky lady, if I may ask?” I wondered aloud.

  “She’s overseas studying at the moment, but she’s coming back home to me next week,” the groom-to-be said. “My dear lady, you may feel free to congratulate me.”

  “I’ll do better than that. The donuts and the fresh water are on the house.”

  That brought whoops of delight from the group, while Gabby said, “Suzanne, it’s no wonder you’re in financial trouble. You can’t just keep giving your food away.”

  “Whether I do or not, it’s my business, Gabby, and I mean that quite literally.” I smiled, but I made sure she saw that there was an edge of steel in my gaze. I meant it. Until I had to lock the doors and shut down for good, I would continue to run Donut Hearts as I saw fit, and no one was going to stop me from doing it.

  “As much as I appreciate the offer, I insist on paying,” the young man said with a happy smile. “Pick out your finest treats, and keep the change with our compliments for joining us in our celebration.”

  “You’re really giddy, aren’t you, Wayne?” one of the guys asked him.

  “Wouldn’t you be? Did any of you ever think for one second that Cynthia would say yes? Come on; don’t be shy. I’m just as surprised as the rest of you!”

  Gabby harrumphed once, and then she exited, which made them smile even brighter, and once she was gone and safely away, their laughter cut loose.

  All in all, it was a really neat way to end the workday.

  Once they were on their way, I found myself smiling. Cynthia was no fool. Wayne loved her, that much was clear, and I had a hunch that he’d spend the rest of his life doing his utmost to make her happy. If you asked me, the world needed more men and women like that.

  It was finally time to lock the doors, but just as I was about to, Grace ran up and slid in just in time. “Hang on. I’m here,” she said a little breathlessly.

  “There’s no rush. I have a pile of dishes to do, I need to sweep the kitchen and the dining area, balance the register, and complete half a dozen other tasks before we can go. Don’t worry, I won’t even ask you to pitch in.”

 

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