“Suspects,” Amy said, with an air of finality. “Rodney Roadkill.”
“Why?”
“Because he says one thing, but we don’t know whether it’s true or not. He could’ve been here with an entirely different motive.” Amy dipped the spoon into the cheesecake glaze and swirled it around to loosen it up.
“You’ve got a point. We don’t have a motivation for him yet, though. We’d have to look into it,” Heather said. Yeah, this was way more difficult without Ryan’s help. “All right, so who’s next?”
“The ex-boyfriend,” Amy said. “That Jared guy.”
“Right.” Heather tapped her thumb against her bottom lip. “She left him, yet he was sad about her death.”
“Well, obviously there were still feelings there,” Amy said.
“Yeah, but what kinds of feelings? Anger? Sadness? Love? I can’t help but wonder whether the feelings drove him toward something like this.” That was the trouble with conjecture – she couldn’t catch any of them out without the hard evidence.
“But he worked at that animal farm place, so he’d have had easy access to the jelly thingies,” Amy said.
Heather nodded and grabbed the kiwi-lime glaze, then a spoon and stirred it too. “And then there’s Exotic Eric.”
“You don’t think he’s involved somehow?” Amy picked up a donut, then dipped it in the cheesecake inspired glaze and placed it on their prepared tray. “He seems kind of –”
“I know. But we can’t rule anyone out, right now. We’ve got Rodney at the scene of the crime, self-admitted, and both Jared and Exotic Eric with access to the animal farm and therefore the murder weapon.”
“Murder animal weapons,” Amy said. “Goodness, this is a strange case.” She picked up the next donut and dipped it in the glaze. “Venomous creatures and a waitress who lived in a hotel -”
“And that’s our final suspect,” Heather said.
“The hotel?”
“No, the hotel manager. He’s definitely a lead we need to check out. Jared said that he suspected Daphne had an affair with Lenny Lorde,” Heather said.
“These names.” Amy rolled her eyes.
“And if that’s the case, there might be some motive for Lenny to have murdered her. I just don’t know what it is, yet. I need more information.” Heather took the first donut Amy had dipped, then dropped it into the kiwi-lime glaze. “I wish there was an easier way to get out.”
“Oh please, remember in the beginning? All the challenges before Ryan came into the picture?”
“And even afterward,” Heather said. She grinned. Her husband had been the one to push her toward the private investigator license. “Yeah, we can get to the bottom of this one. I just wish we had more time.”
They had to catch a flight back to Hillside early on Sunday morning. She couldn’t wait to see Ryan, Lils, Eva and the animals. The desire to solve this case hadn’t waned, though.
“Do you think Rodney spoke to the police?” Amy asked.
“He doesn’t look like the kind of guy who would, but I did speak to Detective Smith about seeing him on the morning of the murder,” Heather replied. “I really should trust that the cops –”
“Stop,” Amy said and dipped another donut. “The cops can handle things, sure, but you’ve still got a worthy talent. You can help them, even if it’s in a subtle, behind the scenes way.”
Heather chewed the inside of her cheek. She’d gone between doubt and certainty a thousand times today.
“Oi, are you going to dip these donuts or not? The gang will need some for breakfast tomorrow,” Amy said.
“All right, all right.” Heather lifted another donut and dipped it in the green glaze, mind searching for answers it wouldn’t find.
Chapter 10
The rest of the Donut Delights crew had already shot ahead to the breakfast buffet, artfully prepared by the hotel’s chefs. The Kiwi Lime Surprise Donuts had gone down great as a first course.
“I could eat a horse,” Amy said, and hurried toward the entrance of the dining room. They’d booked in some time at the Key West Aquarium this morning – they had to eat quickly and be on their way in the next twenty.
Heather followed her bestie through the open double doors and into the dining hall, which’d been not so tastefully decorated with palm tree decals and a bright orange ball which was either a poorly rendered rendition of the sun, or an orange.
Florida was famous for that, after all. Oranges. And axe murderers.
Heather grabbed a plate from the end of the trestle table and shuffled down the line, tummy grumbling.
Ames lifted a spoonful of scrambled eggs from a serving dish. “Want some?”
“No, thanks. I’ve never been great with other people’s scrambled egg. I think I’ll get one of the omelets,” Heather said. She skipped down the line toward omelet station.
The woman behind the portable gas stove smiled at her. “What fillings would you like, ma’am?”
“What do you have?” Heather asked.
“I’ve got sausage, bacon, ham, onion, mixed veg, tomato, five different kinds of cheeses, including cheddar, feta, Monterey Jack, uh – uh –” She’d lost the other two kinds of cheese.
“I’ll take some cheddar, ham, and tomato,” Heather said. “Sounds about right to me.”
The woman sighed her relief. She cracked two eggs into a glass bowl and brought out her whisk. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s considered a crime to forget ingredients around here.”
“Oh? Why’s that.”
“Lenny’s a tough task master,” the woman replied.
“What’s your name?” Heather asked.
“Janine,” she said and whisked up the eggs. She bent and brought out containers of freshly grated cheese, one of ham and another filled with diced tomatoes.
“Janine, did you hear about what happened to Daphne Wilder? I believe she was a waitress here,” Heather said. Another question had wormed its way into her mind – one she’d forgotten to ask in the very beginning since she’d been determined not to get involved.
“Yes,” Janine said and focused on the omelet pan. “But we’re not supposed to discuss that with guests.”
“You know, I was the one who found the body,” Heather said, and glanced down the line. “And when I reported it to the receptionist on duty, do you know what he said?”
“What?” Janine asked, and poured the eggs into the piping hot omelet pan. The mixture sizzled and spat.
“Not again. Now, why do you think he would say that?”
Janine shrugged and worked the pan, fluffing the omelet without the use of a spatula.
“Sounds like there was another murder here.”
Janine sprinkled tomato, ham, and cheese over the right side of the open omelet. The delicious scent of cooked egg and melting cheese made Heather’s mouth water despite the situation.
“All right,” Janine said. “You want to know the truth?”
“Very much,” Heather replied. “Call it a curious mind.”
“I don’t like Lenny that much, so I don’t mind telling you this. There was a murder a few years ago. The body was found by the pool, too. But not killed by Man O’War.”
“What happened?”
Janine flipped the omelet closed then turned off the gas and glanced up the length of the buffet table. No one else had come for an omelet yet. “Lenny’s wife was stabbed by the pool. Daphne was the one who found her the very next day. The police thought for sure that Lenny did it, but he had a rock solid alibi.”
“No kidding,” Heather said.
“So, yeah. That’s what he meant by ‘not again.’ All I can say is that –” she cut off and looked around, over both shoulders and then back at Heather. “I don’t trust Lenny as far as I can throw him. I’m not saying the police don’t know what they’re doing, but do you think it’s a coincidence that Lenny just happened to get off, and now, years later, Daphne winds up dead?”
“And in the exact spot Lenny’s wife died, right?”
“Right.” Janine shook her head. “I don’t like it, and a lot of the others agree with me. But what can we do? It’s not like we can prove he did it.”
Maybe they couldn’t. Heather might just have the means to get to the bottom of this.
“And here’s what’s worse,” Janine said. “Lenny allowed Daphne to stay in one of the hotel rooms here after she broke up with her boyfriend, you know, just until she got on her feet?”
“Sure.”
“Yeah, but then last week I overheard him talking to one of his girlfriends. Apparently, he was furious that she’d stayed in the hotel room for so long. He wanted her to get out so he could fill it with guests instead,” Janine said. “And, what a week later Daphne turns up dead?” The woman shook her head from side to side, a single strange of brown hair escaped her white chef’s hat. “I don’t like it,” Janine repeated.
“Wow,” Heather said. “I had no idea all of this went on behind the seen.”
Janine pursed her lips and nodded. She peered past Heather and shrugged. “Another customer in the line. Sorry.”
“No problem,” Heather said. “Thanks for the omelet and the gossip.”
Janine chuckled, but the laughter died quickly. Heather didn’t blame her. The situation here wasn’t in the least bit funny.
But the chef had given her a worthwhile lead. She’d been confused about Lenny’s potential for involvement, but all that had been cleared up, now – she used the term ‘cleared up’ lightly.
Lenny’s wife murdered, then the woman who’d found her a few years later.
“Serendipity?” Heather walked toward the crew at one of the dining tables. “Or just a coincidences?”
Chapter 11
“I never been to an aquarium,” Maricela said and shuffled toward the front doors of the place and underneath the blue and white striped overhangs.
“You’re going to love it,” Jung said. “There are so many cool sea creatures. Turtles and uh – well, there were sharks in the one I visited. I don’t know if this one has them.”
The gang hurried through the doors, apart from Ames and Heather who lingered behind. Heather hadn’t told Amy her scoop yet. She tugged on her bestie’s loose sleeve – the puffy blue coat she normally wore didn’t go in this weather – and dragged her back a step.
“What? Is this because of the turtles?”
“No,” Heather said. “Well, maybe a little.” She’d been terrified of turtles ever since she’d taken a dip in a friend’s lake and been chased by one. “Listen, I found out something very interesting about Lenny this morning.”
Ames moved under the shade of the tree beside the Aquarium’s entrance. “Spill it,” she said.
“Lenny’s wife died beside the pool years ago. Murdered. And the person who discovered her body was Daphne,” Heather said.
“Who killed her?” Amy asked.
“No idea, but it wasn’t Lenny. Apparently, he had a solid alibi.”
“Wow,” Amy said, and leaned against the tree trunk. “That’s –”
“Don’t say serendipity. I swear I will rent that movie and make you watch it on repeat if you do.”
“I wasn’t going to say that word,” Amy said and stuck out her tongue. “I just think it’s incredible that the person who –”
A commotion broke out behind them, and both women turned to check it out.
People crowded around a massive black pickup truck, craning their necks and chattering amongst themselves. One woman let out a tiny squeal and stumbled back a few steps.
“What on earth?” Heather and Amy crossed the road and stopped on the outer edge of the gathering.
A man hopped into the bed of the pickup truck and spread his arms. The glint of green hair was unmistakable. “Ladies and gents, I’m proud to put on a show for you today.” Exotic Eric’s voice rasped through the crowd. “My wife, Brittney, will show you all the snakes and creepy critters we keep down at Exotic Eric’s Animal Farm.”
He presented his hand and Brittney took it and hopped up into the back of the truck, scowling as usual.
“I’ll tell you about the water creatures. Lenny about the land animals,” she said, in a voice high enough to rival a mouse on helium.
“What are the chances?” Amy asked.
“Givens, I am warning you –”
Exotic Eric jumped down from the pickup and sauntered toward the passenger side door. He clunked it open and rummaged around inside, leather pants squeaking.
“Here’s our chance,” Heather said.
“You mean to run, right?”
Heather ignored her bestie and strode up to Exotic Eric. She tapped him on the upper back – she couldn’t reach the shoulders, and the other lower portion was out of the question – then paced back.
Exotic Eric pulled his head out of the cab, knocked it on the ridge, cursed under his breath, then faced her. “Ah, you. I remember you.”
“Heather,” she said and tucked her arms behind her back so he couldn’t grab one and jerk it around in a mockery of a handshake. “How are you, Eric?”
“I’m great,” he said and gestured to his wife, who stood on the back of the truck and held up a fish bowl. A colorful fish drifted inside it. “We’re putting on the show today. Rustle up some support.”
“I had a question for you,” Heather said. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure, but make it quick, sweetheart. I’ve got work to do,” Eric said.
Heather resisted the urge to carve him a new attitude with her sharpened tongue. Sweetheart? Ugh. “Did Lenny Lorde every come down to your farm?”
“Nope. Name doesn’t ring a bell,” Exotic said, and shrugged.
Shoot. She’d banked on that. It would’ve made this case so much easier. All she could here was gather information and present it to Detective Smith once she’d received the full story.
“And Daphne Wilder?” Heather asked.
Eric stiffened. “Yep. That one was at the farm. Too much. Why do you ask?”
“I’m just curious,” she said. “You see, Daphne’s passed and I was the one who found her body. Call it a need for closure.”
Eric put up his palms. “Listen, my wife’s bit is almost done. I’ve got to go –”
“Eric, please. I’m not asking for dirt. Just a little information.”
He turned away.
“After all, that gator you’ve got in the back wasn’t exactly lively the last time we visited. Be a shame if that good detective found out about it.” Heather hadn’t employed threats in her research before – not ones as brazen as this, at least.
Exotic swung back to her, face as red as strawberry jelly. “What do you want to know?” He asked, stiffly.
“When did you see Daphne?”
“Every darn day. She came around and hung out in the front, just staring. I swear she followed me home the once,” Exotic said. “Made me mighty uncomfortable, and the wife too.”
“Are you sure she wasn’t there for Jared?”
Exotic rolled his tongue over his bottom lip. “Maybe. Were they an item?”
“You’ll have to speak to Jared about that,” she replied. “Did Daphne ever speak to you? Did she tell you anything?”
“Nope. The girl just stared at the store. I don’t know why and I don’t care to find out. Guess I won’t have to now that she’s gone and gotten herself killed.”
Heather ground her teeth. This guy couldn’t redeem himself in her eyes, but he sure knew how to make his case worse. “Where were you on the night of Daphne’s murder?”
“I was at a bar in plain view of cameras and all the other buddies I hang out with. Now, this has been real fun, but I gotta go,” Eric said and strode to the back of his truck. He clambered into it, knees banging against the metal as he went and elicited giggles from the crowd.
Heather chewed on the new information. What did it mean? There had to be a connection somewhere, she just couldn’t see it yet.
Chapter 12
Heather flopped down on her bed and groaned. Amy did the same on the bed beside hers.
“We’re eating too much,” Amy said, and let out a burp. “Whoops, excuse me.”
“You think we’re eating too much? Not possible.”
“I’m telling you, it’s too much. And if I say it, you know it’s true,” Amy said. She could down whole boxes of donuts if given the opportunity.
They’d had a delicious – and ultimately massive – lunch at the Roof Top Café, right round the corner from the Aquarium. The gang had agreed to settle for the afternoon before they planned any more activities.
“Do you think they’re enjoying themselves?” Heather asked. “I wanted this to be a reward for everything they’ve achieved over the past year.”
“Are you kidding?” Amy asked. “Maricela is over the moon. Ken has taken a million pictures. Heather, you know they’re loving it here.”
She’d just wanted reassurance that this was the right getaway for them. Something totally out of the ordinary and a far cry from Hillside.
Heather rolled onto her stomach and eyed her laptop on the bedside table. She should do research while they had a couple of free hours. She shuffled forward on her elbows, grabbed the computer, then dragged it onto her bed.
“Ugh, what are you doing?” Amy groaned. “Stop moving so much. You’re making me sick.”
“We’re not even in the same bed. And your eyes are closed.”
“I can feel the disturbance. Tiny alterations in the positions of my – uh, hair follicles?”
Heather chuckled and flipped open the screen of her laptop. The machine fired up, and she tapped her fingers on the side of the keypad. Luckily, the hotel had free Wi-Fi, a must for any visitor these days.
The startup screen sang its song.
Amy rolled onto her stomach and peered at the screen. “What are you up to?”
“I want to do a little research. Find out more about our suspects,” she said. She clicked on her Google Chrome browser.
It opened up, and she tapped the keys. “Let’s start with the ex-boyfriend,” she said. “What’s his surname?”
“Brown,” Amy replied.
Kiwi Lime Surprise Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy - Book 40 (Donut Hole Cozy Mystery) Page 4