Kiwi Lime Surprise Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy - Book 40 (Donut Hole Cozy Mystery)

by Susan Gillard

  “Did you touch the body at any point? Or anything in the surrounding area?” Smith asked.

  Heather resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Of course not.”

  “Did Amy touch anything?”

  “No.”

  Detective Smith bowed his head and continued his note-taking. “All right. And you didn’t hear or see anything else? Nothing that might’ve caused suspicion?”

  Heather shook her head, then froze.

  “What? What is it?”

  “I don’t know if it’s anything, but today when I left the hotel, I saw some guy hovering around outside the gate. He had overalls on and a shovel,” she said. “He was probably a street cleaner, but just the way he looked at me gave me the creeps.”

  “A street –”

  The front doors of the hotel crashed inward, and a red-faced guy in orange and yellow striped PJs stormed into the lobby. “What’s going on?” His voice came out gravelly and deep. “I’ve been summoned for what?”

  Detective Smith rose from his seat. “Excuse me for a moment, Mrs. Shepherd.”

  “Sure,” she replied. She settled back to enjoy the show. The newcomer looked like he’d be at ease on a stage.

  “Mr. Lorde?” Detective Smith strolled toward the striped guy.

  “Lenny,” he said. “Call me Lenny. Officer, can you explain what in the name of oranges and apples is going on here? I got a call telling me there’s a corpse on my lawn.”

  “One of your employees has been murdered, Mr. Lorde.”

  “Lenny,” he snapped. “I’m Lenny. And who was it?”

  Heather frowned. The guy didn’t seem all that upset about a murdered employee, rather the fact that he’d been inconvenienced.

  Detective Smith tilted his head to the side – maybe he’d had the same thought. “Daphne Wilder.”

  Finally, Lenny paled. He grabbed the edge of the receptionist’s desk and held himself upright. “No. Not Daphne. The poor girl.”

  “I’m going to have to ask you to step into your office with me,” Smith said.

  Heather rose from her seat and drifted toward the exit.

  “Mrs. Shepherd, one moment.” The detective strode over to her. “Before you return to your room, is there anything else you’d like to –?”

  “Is this going to take long?” Lenny called from the counter. The color had returned to his cheeks. “I’ve got a business to run here. Are we going to have to close down because of this?”

  “Nice guy,” Heather muttered.

  Smith didn’t indicate he’d heard her. “We’ll discuss that in your office, Mr. Lorde.”

  “It’s Lenny! Lenny!”

  Heather opened the door which led down a long passage, framed by the entrances to the hotel’s rooms. “I’ve got nothing else to add, detective,” she said, over her shoulder, then strode down the hall, past paintings of palms and sunsets.

  Another case had fallen into her lap, and it wasn’t hers to take. No way would Detective Smith ask for her help. But the image of Daphne, covered in jellyfish and staring at nothing, poked Heather’s sleuthin’ gene.

  Questions flitted through her brain. Why had Lenny Lorde reacted so strangely to a death of an employee? Who had wanted to kill Daphne?

  And the one she couldn’t shake: who was the shovel guy?

  Chapter 4

  La Trattoria Restaurant’s windows looked out on a busy street, packed with pensioners and tourists. They dressed pretty much the same – loose sleeveless shirts, colorful shorts, and peak caps. Everywhere Heather looked vacation was in full effect.

  The Florida blue sky and glaring sun provided a view most folks dreamed of, but Heather couldn’t concentrate on that, or the pepperoni pizza which dominated their table.

  They’d had to push three together to make room for everybody.

  “Hey,” Amy said and tapped her on the arm. “Are you all right?”

  “Sure,” Heather replied and picked up her pizza slice. “I’m fine. A little distracted, but fine.”

  “It’s the murder, isn’t it?” Amy shifted her plate closer.

  The chatter around the table died down, and all eyes turned on Heather. The assistants had spent half the night awake, but it hadn’t stopped them from enjoying their lunch date or dampened their excitement for a trip to the beach later.

  “Uh,” Heather said. “What?”

  “I heard she died from an allergic reaction,” Ken whispered, his fork up and a piece of gnocchi speared on the tines. “From the venom in the tentacles.”

  “Yeah,” Emily said. “I can’t believe it was right outside our rooms. I wish I’d been awake. Maybe I could’ve stopped it.”

  “How?” Angelica asked.

  Everyone quieted again. The fact that a body had shown up on their holiday hadn’t escaped them.

  Cases seemed to follow Heather wherever she went.

  “Are you going to take it on?” Amy asked.

  Once again, the gazes fixed on Heather and didn’t drop.

  A circle of pepperoni dropped off Jung’s slice of pizza.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Things are different here.”

  “What you mean different, boss?” Maricela asked.

  Heather checked the waitress wasn’t anywhere nearby, then eyed the empty tables which surrounded them. It was relatively safe to talk. “I mean, I don’t have Ryan’s help, and I certainly don’t want to step on any toes down here. The detective who interviewed me seemed nice.”

  “And handsome,” Emily said, then blushed as red as her pasta sauce.

  “Step on any toes?” Amy laughed out loud. “Since when have you cared about that? The way I see it, an innocent woman is dead –”

  “In the weirdest way possible,” Jung said.

  “And you’re the only one who heard what happened and has the skills to solve the murder,” Amy finished.

  Heather looked from one expectant face to the next. She bit off a piece of pizza and chewed, thoughtfully. The rich, tangy flavor of the cheese mixed with the saltiness of the pepperoni.

  She swallowed. “I’m not the only one with the skills to solve the murder. The police probably have it under control. Besides, I’m totally out of my comfort zone here. And the last thing we need is to have our week cut short because I get us booted out of the hotel.”

  “But –”

  “No, I think it’s best I stay out of this one,” Heather said. Still, she couldn’t shake the questions. They haunted her thoughts even as she told her friends that she wouldn’t investigate.

  Slowly, the chatter between the assistants built up again. Ken finally ate his gnocchi and Emily stirred her fork through her pasta and peered into the bowl as if it’d give her answers. Or perhaps Detective Smith’s number.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Amy asked, quietly. “You’re not really going to let this one slide.”

  “Ames.”

  “C’mon, Heather. You don’t think it’s serendipitous that you happened to be outside when it happened?”

  “No, I think it’s thanks to humidity that both Daphne and I were out there in the middle of the night. I can’t speak for her murderer’s motivation.”

  “You could if you investigated.”

  “Ames!”

  Amy put up her palms. “Hey, I’m just saying.”

  “I know what you’re saying, but I can’t go out on a limb here,” Heather said.

  “Okay, but we can at least talk about it, right?”

  Heather ate more of her pizza and mulled that one over. “I guess,” she said. “Yeah, I guess we could talk about it.”

  “What do you think?” Amy asked. “Relax, I’m not talking about from an investigative point of view. I just mean, what a weird way to go, am I right? Man O’Wars?”

  “Yeah,” Heather said, and grabbed her napkin. She brushed it across her lips. “You can say that again. I don’t understand why the killer chose that method. It wasn’t as if Daphne was at the beach.”

  “Meaning
?”

  “Meaning the killer couldn’t fake that she’d been accidentally stung,” Heather replied. “It’s like they wanted her to die in that particular manner, without hiding the fact that it was a murder.”

  “Crime of passion?”

  “Maybe,” Heather replied. “I can’t say for sure but – wait a second, you’re luring me into this.”

  Amy winked and picked up a slice of pizza. “I just think you have a lot to offer, Mrs. Shepherd.”

  Heather didn’t reply. She took a long drink of her soda and gazed out of the window at the sunny street.

  The strange circumstance which surrounded the murder had already tickled her curiosity and Amy’s questions didn’t help.

  “Do you think she lived there?” Ames asked.

  “Who?”

  “That Daphne woman. The vic. I mean, why was she at the hotel late at night?” Amy asked. “It doesn’t make sense unless she lived in one of the rooms.”

  Heather chewed the inside of her cheek to keep from speculating out loud.

  It could’ve been the case that Daphne had stayed at the hotel, or that she’d visited for some reason. Did that mean that the killer had followed her? Or that they’d been in one of the rooms?

  “You’re incorrigible,” she said, to her bestie.

  Amy’s grin didn’t hold a hint of guilt.

  Chapter 5

  The yellow police which surrounded the pool fluttered in the breeze. Sunset sent orange and pink streaks across the sky, and the humidity had dropped a little at last. A good thing too, since Lenny the manager had spent the day storming up and down the halls complaining about dead bodies instead of fixing the air conditioning in Ames’ and Heather’s room.

  Heather stood on the tiny back porch, beside one of the wicker chairs, and gazed out over the horizon, between the silhouettes of crooked palm trees.

  Her phone buzzed in her palm. She smiled and answered without checking the caller ID.

  “I miss you,” she said.

  “I miss you more,” Ryan replied. “Are you having fun?”

  “Uh, you could say that. We’ve fed tarpon and eaten at awesome restaurants. Today we went to the beach, and Angelica tried surfing. Oh, and I found a corpse out by the pool last night.”

  Ryan fell silent.

  “I’m not kidding before you ask,” Heather said. “One of the waitresses was attacked.”

  “You’re not going to try to investigate this, are you?” Ryan asked.

  “No. I don’t want to. Well, I do, but I’ve already told everyone else I won’t. Amy’s insistent I get involved,” Heather said. She sat down in the chair, and the wicker clicked and ticked. “She thinks I’m the only one who has the skills to solve it.”

  “Why? Something wrong with the cops?” Mirth tinged Ryan’s tone.

  “No. I think it’s because of the way she was murdered,” Heather replied.

  “Break it down for me.”

  This wasn’t the way she’d planned on spending the call. She’d hoped to talk about Lilly and the animals, Eva too. “I – well, I found the woman by the pool. Someone dumped three Portuguese Man O’War on her, and it seems like she went into anaphylaxis. I can’t say for certain since the police haven’t released any details to the public yet.”

  “Wow. That’s bizarre,” Ryan said.

  “Welcome to Florida,” Heather replied. “Anyway, I have no idea where the murderer would’ve gotten their hands on a tank of these things.”

  “That’s easy,” Ryan replied.

  “It is?”

  “Sure. You could get something like that at an exotic pet store. Or something along those lines. Don’t they have loads of shelters and farms down there?” Ryan asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Heather said. She’d done her research on the main tourist attractions in Key West, and the best bakeries, but hadn’t planned on a trip to an animal shelter.

  “I happen to agree with you about not investigating this,” Ryan said. “But I also know you, Mrs. Shepherd.”

  “Ha, what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It’s not only the murder that interests you. It’s the mystery. They’re like puzzles, and you’ve never been able to resist one.” Ryan sighed and rustled the phone around. “Whatever you decide to do, just be safe about it. The last thing we can afford now is bail.”

  “You’re hilarious.”

  “Hold on a second, love, Lilly wants to say hello.” Crackling filled the receiver, and a bark rang out. Poor Davie had realized who was on the phone.

  “Wait, a second, wait,” Lilly said, muffled by distance. “Okay. Hello? Mom?”

  “Hey, honey, how are you doing?” Heather’s stomach did a little flip. She’d missed her daughter’s voice more than anything in the last two days.

  “Great! But did you hear about Cupcake?” Lilly asked.

  “Amy said –”

  “She’s lost her marbles, mom. She keeps scratching up the furniture,” Lilly said, then giggled. “Mom, I think she misses you.”

  “Are you sure she’s not just going through puberty?” Heather asked.

  “Ew, I hate that word.” Lilly’s laugh tinkled down the line again. “No, I think she just misses you. We’re going to have to cover everything in plastic.”

  “Lils, is school going well?” Heather asked. It was the only reason she’s stopped her daughter from tagging along on the trip. The last thing she wanted was to interfere with her education.

  “Yeah, it’s going great. They published one of my stories in the paper,” Lilly said. “Oh shoot, mom, I’ve got to go. Dad says dinner’s almost ready. I love you.”

  “I love you, sweetie. Have a nice evening. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.”

  “Okay, byeeee,” Lilly said, and drew out the last word. She hung up.

  Heather dropped the cell into her lap and gazed at the police line. Ryan had a point. Perhaps, the first lead in the case was a trip to an animal shelter. But what type of animal shelter kept exotic animals like venomous jellyfish.

  It didn’t matter. It was none of her business.

  Tomorrow, they’d booked a brunch at Key West Cakes, so they could check out a local bakery and pick the mind of the owner. She had to stick to her vacation plans, not worry herself with a murder investigation which was probably under control.

  Probably.

  “Ugh, don’t start,” Heather said. “You’re not better than the police.”

  “What are you muttering about?” Amy asked, and ambled out of the open sliding door. She handed Heather a napkin-wrapped donut, then lowered herself into the chair on the other side of the porch.

  “Nothing.”

  Ames took a bite of her donut. “You’re worried about the case, aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  “You can’t lie to me, woman,” Amy replied and gestured with the half-eaten donut. “I know your mind.”

  “Ryan mentioned something that piqued my interest. Apparently, there might be animal shelters around here which have some of those jellyfish,” Heather said.

  “Oh yeah?” Amy whipped out her smartphone and tapped away at the screen, one-handed.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for animal shelters,” Amy said and plopped her donut down in her lap. This had to be serious – Amy never put down a donut.

  “And?” Heather asked, in spite of her determination to ‘not get involved, no matter what.’

  “Ha. It’s just like I said. Serendipity,” Amy said and spun her cell around. She had Google Maps open, and a pin dropped on a location: Exotic Eric’s Animal Farm.

  “Goodness,” Heather said. “It’s right across from Key West Cakes.”

  “What I tell ya? This is meant to be.”

  Chapter 6

  Exotic Eric’s Animal Farm had an air of dereliction which set Heather on edge. A layer of thick dust coated the front door and the insides of the windows, and the faded green sign on the front of the brick-faced building had slid dow
n a little on the right.

  Heather shouldered her handbag and cast a sideways glance at her bestie. “I don’t know about this,” she said.

  “Relax,” Ames said. “Everyone’s enjoying themselves with the cakes. We’ve got plenty of time to check out this farm thing.”

  “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

  Amy shrugged, then looped her arm through Heather’s and tugged her across the street.

  Fencing spread out from the sides of the building and bordered a large patch of land, bare of grass but filled with dirt and dust.

  Heather didn’t like the look of it. As a kid, her grandma had taken her to a lot of animal shelters and she’d long since come to the conclusion that wild animals belonged in the wild, and if they weren’t they should be kept in conditions that were closest to their habitat until they were ready to be released.

  She’d never hesitated at the prospect of getting a dog, but Dave had been a shelter puppy. And Cupcake was Lilly’s little exception.

  “What are we waiting for?” Amy asked.

  They entered the building, and a wall of scent hit them – the pungent odor of urine and sawdust. Amy gagged and lifted her first to block the reaction.

  Heather swallowed an excess of saliva. “No, Ames, I don’t like this. Let’s head out.”

  “Leaving already?” A man poked his head out from behind one of the shelves. “You don’t want to take a look at the best exotic animals you’ve ever had the privilege to lay eyes on?” The man’s fringe had been dyed bright green, and he wore a matching shirt which carried the logo of Exotic Eric’s on his left breast.

  A woman appeared beside him, wearing the same outfit but with less green hair. “Who are you?”

  “Now, now, Brittney, don’t be rude to our cust – guests,” the guy said, then nodded to Heather and Ames. “You’ll have to excuse the wife. She’s protective of all the creatures we got here.”

  “I’m Heather,” she said. “This is Amy. I didn’t catch your name.” Heather didn’t extend a hand for a shake.

  “Eric. Exotic Eric to be exact. That’s a rhyme,” he said and stumbled forward. He took Heather’s hand and pumped her arm up and down. “Good to meet you, lady.”