Mint Chip Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 6

by Susan Gillard

  “I live right there,” he said, pointing to the house they were standing in front of. “I heard all the noise and came outside. If you want to wait right there, I’ll go get my car and drive you to the vet.”

  The first police car zipped past them, and then screeched to a stop. An officer leaped out. “Ma’am?” he called. “Are you Heather?”

  “Thank you so much,” Heather said to the neighbor, “but I think help just arrived.”

  The next few minutes were a blur. Another patrol car arrived. And then, the person she’d most wanted to see. Ryan.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her, looking deep into her eyes to see the truth for himself.

  “Yes, I’m okay. But I need to get Dave to the emergency clinic.”

  “We’ll take my car,” he said. “It’s right over there.”

  Right over there was the middle of the street. After speaking briefly to one of the patrol officers, Ryan walked beside her, with her carrying Dave as gently as she could. He held the door open for her as she got in, and then fastened the seat belt around her. Through it all, Dave was silent. He didn’t move, except for periodically opening his eyes and looking up at Heather.

  Ryan slid into his seat and buckled up. He maneuvered the car skillfully and smoothly through the tangle of vehicles in the street, and then took off.

  In fifteen minutes, he braked to a stop in front of the clinic. A staff member in green scrubs held the door open for them. “His name is Dave,” Ryan said. “He was hit by a car.”

  Within another few minutes, they had been shown into a small exam room. The vet swiftly determined the extent of Dave’s injuries and recommended surgery. Heather agreed.

  Almost before she knew it, she found herself sitting in a hard plastic chair in the waiting room next to Ryan, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her.

  There must have been a thousand details Ryan had taken care of in order to handle the situation and make things easier for her, she knew. That was one thing she loved about him—his strength and his competence. Okay, make that two things.

  The outside door opened, and a uniformed officer entered the waiting room. “Detective Shepherd?” he said, and Heather realized he must have been surprised to see Ryan’s arm around her.

  “This is my fiancée, Heather Janke,” Ryan said. “Heather, we need you to answer some questions.”

  Heather nodded and sat up straight. “Ask me anything you want,” she said. “I want to help you find her. She tried to kill me, and she almost killed my dog.”

  “Actually, ma’am, she’s already been taken into custody,” the officer said.

  “After she tried to hit you, she swerved back into the street and hit a parked car. A patrol unit saw a car turning onto Bowen with its front bumper half hanging off and initiated a traffic stop. Turned out it was the woman who tried to assault you.”

  “Thank you,” Heather said. “Thank you for everything you guys have done.”

  “You’re welcome, ma’am,” the officer said. “There was an ambulance on scene near your residence. I have it on the way over here in case you would like them to check you out.”

  “No, thank you,” Heather said. “I’m fine. Really. I’m angry, but I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, sir. Nothing a few band-aids and some rest won’t cure. So go ahead. Ask me anything you want to know.”

  “Heather, I’m going to step outside,” Ryan said. “This is a criminal case—not only the murder, but her attempt to kill you. I’m going to stay out of it as much as I can, but I’ll be right outside. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll be fine. Just—don’t go too far, okay?”

  “You got it,” Ryan said. He pushed through the same door through which the patrol officer had entered just moments before and went outside.

  The officer sat down two chairs away from her and turned to face her. He withdrew a small notebook from a pocket in his uniform shirt and flipped it open. Clicking a ballpoint pen into readiness, he asked, “What is your full name, ma’am?”

  ***

  Two hours later, Heather sat on her sofa snuggled against Ryan’s side, their arms around each other. Dave’s doggie bed was empty; the vet had recommended that he remain under observation at the clinic for 24 hours post-surgery.

  “I’m glad they got her,” Heather said.

  Ryan didn’t have to ask whom she was talking about. “Me, too. Both for Kelly’s murder, and for the fact that she tried to kill you.”

  “I don’t understand why she murdered Kelly,” Heather said. “I know she did it, but why?”

  “She’s not talking,” Ryan said. “The only thing she’ll tell us is ‘see my lawyer.’ But if I had to guess, based on the evidence, I don’t think she intended to kill her. I think she came back to the shop to continue the argument they started earlier. She got angry, grabbed the flat iron, and swung it in a fit of rage. The first blow probably knocked Kelly out. In any case, she fell to the floor. And Lana just kept swinging.”

  Heather shuddered. “Over hair, and coming in second place.” She paused. “You know the person I feel sorry for in all this — besides Kelly— is Emily Sturmer. Lisa said she was a sweet kid. She probably never wanted any of this.”

  “Probably not,” Ryan agreed. For a moment, they sat in silence. “You know…” he said, leaning forward to pick up one of the bridal magazines that still lay on the table, “I just realized that I’m going to have to wear a tux for our wedding, aren’t I?”

  “You most certainly are,” Heather said. “I’m the one who gets to wear the dress.”

  “You can have it,” Ryan said. “I think I’ll stick to the tux.”

  “Good plan,” she said.

  “But can I wear tennis shoes? Dress shoes can pinch.”

  “Not even once,” Heather said. “You’re going to look every inch the handsome guy I know and love. All my friends and relatives are going to be jealous.”

  “So are mine,” Ryan said. “Listen, I know you have a lot of plans to make. But I want to set a date. I want to know exactly how much longer I have to wait before one of us doesn’t have to go home at the end of the night. How does January 1 sound to you?”

  “I think it sounds great,” Heather said, smiling.

  “I know it’s not even three months. Will that give you enough time to get everything done?”

  “Sure. If you’ll help me.”

  “You actually want my help?”

  “Well…maybe,” Heather teased. “I’ll let you know.”

  “You got it,” Ryan said for the second time that night. “But can I make one suggestion?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  “I think we need a ring bearer.”

  “Okay. Do you have somebody in mind?”

  “Of course I do,” he said, one corner of his mouth crooking upward in a grin. “I think it should be Dave.”

  “Dave?” she said. “You want a dog in our wedding?”

  “Bella could be the flower girl.”

  “We are not having a dog and a cat in our wedding.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “It would definitely be memorable.”

  “Very sure,” she said. “The only thing that needs to be that memorable about our wedding is that I get to become Mrs. Ryan Shepherd.”

  “‘Mrs. Ryan Sheperd,’” Ryan repeated. “I kind of like the sound of that.”

  “I do, too,” she said, smiling. “I can’t wait.”

  A letter from the Author

  To each and every one of my Amazing readers: I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think by leaving a review!

  I’ll be releasing another installment in two weeks so to stay in the loop (and to get free books and other fancy stuff) Join my Book club.

  Stay Curious,

  Susan Gillard

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