Birthday Sprinkle Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 37

by Susan Gillard

  This was close to Lil Mama’s, where they’d spotted Camilla meeting with Lemon for the first time.

  Amy led them toward their favorite park bench, then dropped onto it and drew Cupcake into her lap. “So,” she said. “I can see the cogs turning. Talk to me about it.”

  Heather dropped Dave’s leash and he snuffled off to the nearby pond, tramping on dry ground and the last remnants of mulched up leaves.

  “No body. No dogs,” Heather said, and paced back and forth in front of the park bench.

  Both Cupcake and Amy swiveled their heads to track her movements.

  “Two complaining tenants, both seen in the hall before Sebastian got home. Neither of them liked the dogs. And Ursula doesn’t have a cat.”

  “But Kev said he fed her cat frequently. Between fishing trips, of course.”

  “Right,” Heather replied, and clicked her fingers. “Either he lied about that or there’s another cat in the building he’s been feeding and he was just confused about the owner.”

  Amy wriggled her nose. “Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t like that guy. The trench coat, the long blond hair. He gives me a really creepy vibe.”

  “Unfortunately, creepy vibes aren’t evidence,” Heather replied.

  “But if they were, the dude would be behind bars.” Amy stroked Cupcake’s fluffy head and sighed. “What else? The neighbors and –”

  “Camilla Wyatt.”

  “You know, there’s an off chance that Camilla just happened upon Sebastian online, through Facebook stalking or something,” Amy said. “Or they met ages ago through friends or, I don’t know, something a con person would do.”

  “I guess. I just can’t get over the connections here. Camilla had an Escalade and so did Fierro. Fierro did meet Sebastian during the hiring process and the building has been condemned before, but never knocked down?”

  “So?”

  “So Fierro must have a lot of weight with building inspectors or whoever it is that regulates these kinds of things. He’s powerful. Maybe he thinks he’s powerful enough to get away with murder,” Heather said, and glanced at Dave.

  The dog touched his paw to the pond’s surface and jerked it back again.

  “But what would be the motivation?” Amy asked.

  “That,” Heather said, and pointed at her best friend. “Is the right question. What would be Fierro’s motivation to off his super? Could he have reached the end of his tether?”

  “Meaning?”

  “That he hired Sebastian to do a job and once again, his chosen super didn’t do what he wanted and the building got condemned,” Heather replied. “He couldn’t come down here to kill Sebastian himself, so he hired Camilla.”

  Amy continued stroking but also wrinkled her brow. “Okayyy,” she said. “But hear me out here. This guy is supposedly super powerful and rich, right?”

  “Right. Otherwise he wouldn’t have the resources to hire a hitman. Woman. Hit person.”

  “Okay, so if he’s so powerful and rich, why didn’t he hire an independent contractor to fix up the Fierro Building? There’s only so much a super can do without help. If the place was falling apart, surely Fierro would have that attended to by someone else?”

  Heather stalled mid-stride. “That’s a great point.” She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Ugh, that’s too good. Why would he just hire another super instead of fixing it up?”

  “And then hire a murderer – uh – murderess, instead of just firing the guy,” Amy said. “I don’t know, Heather, it sounds like a stretch.”

  “But the Escalades.”

  “There’s more than one Escalade in Texas,” Amy said. “If someone across town was murdered by a woman who drove a Chevrolet Spark, would that automatically make you suspect number one?”

  “It would if I was a con woman,” Heather replied. Her shoulders sagged again. Ames made excellent points, but there hadn’t been any fingerprints to go by in the apartment, and Camilla Wyatt had disappeared.

  They’d exhausted all their leads. They didn’t have a hope of catching the woman, wherever she was. She’d clearly flipped out after the police attention and fled.

  “All right. So what are the options?” Amy asked.

  “There’s an option that I won’t solve this one. And that I shouldn’t, since it’s Lilly’s party in a few days and I still need to find the right utensils,” Heather said.

  “Yeah, but that’s the last thing on the list,” Amy replied. “Everything else is ready.”

  “You underestimate just how difficult it’s been to find the right cups.” Heather whipped her bag off her shoulder and dumped it on the ground. “Unbelievable.”

  “Intriguing,” Amy said. “But Heather, I think you need to relax. I’m sure something will break. They have to find the body, sometime. Or the dogs. Let’s think about it. Where would a murderer dump a body?”

  “That’s a welcome topic change from cups,” Heather said, and grimaced.

  “Sorry. I’m just trying to think practically,” Ames replied. “Put what little of the course materials I’ve learned to use.” She tapped her temple.

  “The body. A dumpster? A side alley? We don’t know what kind of person we’re dealing with here. Are they experienced? Are they panicked?” Heather ran her fingers through her hair.

  She ran into obstacles during every case, but this was ridiculous.

  “Uh, if I was a horrible murderous person I’d, okay, now don’t judge me, but I’d feed the body to animals.”

  “Amy!”

  Her bestie lifted her palms. “I know, I know, but what Ursula Brown said about cats got me thinking. What if there was a cat?”

  “A corpse-eating cat. We’ve crossed into the realm of surrealism. I highly doubt a lone cat would be able to devour an entire – gosh, this is too disgusting to contemplate,” Heather said, and swallowed her nausea.

  “Maybe not a cat, but what about two dogs?” Amy asked.

  Heather waved her arms in front of her body. “Let’s just move on from this portion of the conversation, okay?”

  “Okay, so body dumping sites.”

  “Ah, on to lighter things at last,” Heather said, and fluttered her eyelashes.

  “I’m serious. So, dumpsters, or –”

  “The river. The South Bosque. That’s where I’d do it,” Heather said. “I wonder if –”

  Her cellphone buzzed into action in her pocket. She jostled it out and flashed the face toward Amy. “It’s Ryan,” she said. Maybe, their answer would come at last. She dragged her thumb across the green icon and answered. “Shepherd.”

  “I need you down at the South Bosque River,” Ryan said.

  “You found the body.”

  “No. But Ray Donnelly found two very sad dogs locked in his fishing hut about a half hour ago,” he said. “Bring some kibble.”

  Chapter 16

  Ray Donnelly rolled up his plaid sleeves and huffed out a sigh. “Mrs. Shepherd,” he said.

  “I’m sure you’re happy to see me again, Ray.” Heather flashed him a bright smile.

  The man was blatantly unhappy to see her, but she couldn’t blame him. The last time they’d met, he’d been hiding from a vicious, albeit harmless widow. And he’d been a murder suspect, of course.

  “Thrilled,” he said, and folded his arms across his chest. “Look, I had nothing to do with any of this. I didn’t do anything to hurt anyone.”

  “Hurt who?” Heather asked.

  “Oh come on. Everyone read about Sebastian Holland’s murder in the Hillside Reporter,” he said. “Miss Hillside’s Private Eye.”

  Amy hissed from her spot under a nearby tree. “Don’t say Gal Pal. Don’t you dare say it,” she muttered.

  Heather laughed off the title, even though she’d like to break a few pens down at the Hillside Reporters’ HQ. “I’m not here to interrogate you and you’re not a suspect.” There wasn’t any connection between Sebastian and Ray, as far as she knew. The two men hadn’t even known eac
h other.

  “Okay. Then why are we speaking?”

  “Common courtesy,” Amy said.

  “Because I want you to tell me how you found the dogs,” Heather said. “This isn’t exactly fishing season. Is it?” Heather glanced at Amy for back up.

  “No idea,” Amy said.

  “Catch big bass in winter,” Ray said, and didn’t unfold his arms. “I came down to check on my bait and tackle. You see, somebody went through my hut last week. They messed up a lot of stuff.”

  That’d been Heather and Ryan on their reconnaissance mission. “In my defense,” she said, “your equipment wasn’t exactly in a sterling state.”

  “Forget sterling. Bass is where it’s at,” Ray said. “Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked. I came down to reorganize things. And to replace the padlock since y’all took the last one.”

  Heather sniffed and adjusted the straps of her tote. A group of officers strode past her and toward the river bank. The nip in the air had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the possibility that Heather might’ve been right.

  There could be a body down there.

  “What happened then?”

  “I heard sniffing and a couple of whining noises,” Ray said. “It didn’t sound like the rats I found in the hut last winter, so I opened the door and the two little puppers came running out. Poor things.”

  Hoskins had adopted the dogs immediately. He’d practically torn the bag of kibble from Heather’s arms to feed them.

  “Was there anything else in there?” She asked.

  “No, nothing.” Ray shrugged. “I don’t know what else to tell you – oh wait. Wait just a second. I did notice something else?”

  “What was it?” Heather asked.

  “Someone else’s tackle box. Blue and white. Never seen it there before. But that’s just probably some opportunistic fisherman who thinks he can take a chance at storing things in my hut,” Ray said, and pursed his lips. “I don’t think it means anything.”

  “A fisherman. A scratch.” Heather spun on the spot and stared out at the river. “A scratch. Fishing. Dogs. Damp. Complaints. No. It can’t be. That’s a ridiculous reason to want to –”

  “Is she all right?” Ray said, behind her.

  “She’ll snap out of it in a few minutes,” Amy said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Evidence,” Heather said, and marched back and forth between the trees. “Evidence. There’s got to be something. Why hide the body? A car? Not the Escalade.”

  “Goodness,” Ray said. “Is this what she’s like –”

  “Almost every day,” Amy replied, and stifled a yawn. “It’ll all come together in a second.”

  “There’s no DNA evidence,” Heather said, and turned to face her best friend. “Nothing that we can use except for the video which shows two tenants. The outside window was forced. Someone who was familiar with the building and possibly the fact that it was rundown. Someone who was angry.”

  Ray Donnelly took a few steps back under Heather’s intense glare.

  “Why were they angry? Camilla couldn’t have pulled the body out on her own. Too small. Not strong enough. But a man? An able-bodied, young man used to lugging bait and tackle boxes around?”

  “Hey! I didn’t do anything,” Ray said, and raised his palms.

  “Not you.” Amy launched herself off the tree trunk and stormed to Heather’s side. “I told you he was creepy.”

  “Hey!” Ray’s face turned red.

  “Not you,” Amy and Heather said, in unison.

  “There’s not enough evidence yet,” Heather said. “It’s got to be him, though. It makes sense. He’s tired of living int eh damp building. He complained the most and hated those dogs.”

  “And judging by the scratch on his arm, they hated him too.”

  “No cat!” Heather yelled.

  Ray jumped and backpedaled. “Okay, I’m just going to – okay –” He turned and dashed back up the embankment. The light had faded fast between the trees, but Heather didn’t care.

  This had to be the answer.

  “He lied about the cat,” Amy said.

  Ryan Shepherd trundled down the slope and halted beside his wife, his hands in the pockets of his navy blue jacket. “What are you two doing? Ray Donnelly looks like he’s seen a ghost.”

  “It was the tenant,” Heather said. “It was Kevin Foster. He killed Sebastian. He was angry about the state of the building and hated the dogs. He –”

  “Wait,” Ryan said. “That’s all circumstantial. We can’t arrest anyone without the actual body. Without hard evidence, love.”

  Heather sighed. “I know. It’s just –”

  “Shepherd.” An officer waved from the riverside. “We found something.”

  Chapter 17

  Heather sat on the edge of the sofa and stared at the blank screen of her cell on the coffee table.

  Amy snored on the sofa opposite, the TV muted on the credits of Beaches. She’d finally gotten Heather to watch it again, after months of persuading. Lilly had already passed out upstairs with her two favorite animals curled up at her feet.

  Heather couldn’t sleep.

  Not until Ryan got back to her on what they’d found and whether they’d be able to make an arrest. They spent the entire week long emailing evidence, suggestions, thoughts, back and forth and now…

  “Radio silence.” She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms, then picked up the remote and pressed pause on the movie.

  She’d have to get sleep at some point, but it wouldn’t come easy tonight.

  Heather got up and walked over to Amy’s side of the room. She grabbed a folded comforter from the armrest, shook it out over her sleeping bestie, then tucked in the corners around Amy’s shoulders.

  “I swear, it was just one donut. Just one,” Amy said, voice thick with sleep. She snored and scrunched up her nose.

  The humor didn’t escape Heather but she still couldn’t laugh. Why hadn’t Ryan called her? What’d happened that could’ve delayed contact to this extent?

  If he dared come home before –

  The cell buzzed across the coffee table, rattling the wood in a series of mini-knocks. Heather darted to it and snatched it up. “Shepherd,” she said.

  “Just one,” Amy said and snorted.

  Heather hurried out of the living room and into the hall. “Ryan?”

  “Yeah, it’s me,” he said, and the weariness in is voice told her almost everything she needed to know.

  “You got him?” She asked.

  “We got two,” he replied. “The body of Sebastian Holland tied down with fishing line and weighted with two massive reels, and the killer.”

  “Kevin Foster,” Heather said, with certainty.

  “That’s the one. How did you know, hon?” Ryan asked. “We only knew for sure after we pulled Sebastian out and found his cell. One of our technicians managed to pull some messages off his micro-sd. A miracle after the time it spent under water.”

  “What did you find?” Heather asked.

  “Threats from Foster to Holland. He was furious about the dogs, in particular. He threatened to kill them.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Heather said, and pressed her free hand to her stomach. “That’s horrific.”

  “Uh-huh.” Ryan sighed and his breath gusted against the receiver. “The dogs are fine, before you ask. Hoskins is determined to adopt them.”

  “You’re kidding,” Heather said.

  “Not at all. He’s in love if the mushy voice he uses when talking to them is any indication,” Ryan said. “But how did you know?”

  “Process of elimination. And the logbook we found. And the fact that the killer had to be male or strong enough to carry the body of Sebastian Holland,” Heather replied. And her sleuthin’ sense had kicked in.

  This was why she interviewed all her suspects firsthand. She got a feel for who they were and what their motivations might be.

  “Well, it’s all over now. He
’s behind bars and I doubt a good lawyer would be able to get him off these charges,” Ryan said. “I’ll be home soon. Love you.”

  “Love you, gorgeous.”

  She hung up. It’d been a while since she’d missed out on confronting the killer firsthand. This time, it didn’t bother her. Kev had given off that creepy vibe. A dangerous vibe.

  Heather walked toward the living room and hovered in the doorway. Ames slept on, the hairs on the top of her head standing on end, and one arm draped over her eyes.

  At least, it was over now. They could focus on the store and Lilly’s parties.

  And that present.

  Heather’s humor rushed back. She grinned and clicked off the living room light, then walked toward the stairs. Tomorrow would bring more donuts, fun, and in a day or two, a party to be remembered.

  If she could get the right utensils.

  “I still have to get those darn cups,” Heather whispered, and clicked her fingers.

  Chapter 18

  The interior of Donut Delights buzzed with the activity Heather had dreamed of the entire week. The kids from the Hillside Children’s Shelter gathered around the tables with milkshake cups in hand.

  Each cup had been printed with the iconic T-Rex silhouette from the Jurassic Park movie. Tracking those cups down had been half of the battle.

  A velociraptor cake sat in the center of the glass counter, surrounded by Birthday Sprinkle Donuts and more of those fantastic cups.

  “All right, everyone,” Heather said, and clapped her hands.

  The adults and kids, all of Lilly’s friends and family, looked up from their food, treats and conversations. Lils herself sat beside her friend Nicolas, with Dave the dog in her lap, a bow tie pasted to the front of his collar.

  “It’s time for presents.” Heather hurried around to the other side of the counter. She lifted a massive box, wrapped in plain white paper with a massive pink bow on top, then walked back to Lilly’s spot at her table.

  Lilly beamed from ear to ear and joggled her knees up and down. She accepted the gift and placed it on the table in front of her.

  “Wow, it’s huge,” Nicolas said, and moved to the edge of his seat. “Do you think it’s a –”