Chocolate Frosted Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 5

by Susan Gillard

  Ultimately, she opted to stay awake and try to get to bed early. Even if she couldn't get to sleep at eight, she knew she'd at least be able to do so well before her usual hour of 10:30 or 11.

  Just as Heather tossed her purse onto the counter in the kitchen, her phone pinged with a text message. She dug it out of her purse and read Ryan's message. Going to make an arrest, it said.

  Be safe, Heather texted back.

  So they had found Gustavo's killer. Good. Heather was surprised that the case had been resolved this early, but she supposed she shouldn't be. After all, Ryan and the rest of the police force knew what they were doing. It just somehow seemed too easy.

  Even if she had been planning to sleep, has her knew she wouldn't have been able to with Ryan and, presumably, several other officers going to arrest a known murderer. She would've had to remain awake until he texted her back, as she knew he would, when all was resolved peacefully.

  What was she going to do to help herself stay awake until she could legitimately go to bed and hope to sleep through the night? The house was actually relatively clean at the moment. Maybe it wasn't perfect, but hey, she had never claimed to be Martha Stewart. The kitchen was clean, and there were no dirty dishes lying around the rest of the house. So what if her laundry was spilling out of her hamper and out the closet door and into the bedroom? So what if she hadn't dusted in…well, who knows how long? She considered her level of cleaning quite good enough. And Ryan never seem to mind.

  Which brought her back to thoughts of Ryan? She needed something to take her mind off of the situation until she heard from him. So she tapped her best friend’s number into her phone.

  "Hello," Amy's voice said. Clearly, she knew who was calling.

  "Hey," Heather said.

  "You sound tired. Why are you taking a nap?"

  "I was afraid it would mess up my being able to get to bed early tonight," she said. "But I just got a text from Ryan saying they’re about to make an arrest, so I need something to distract me. Got any ideas?"

  "They caught Gustavo's killer already? That was fast."

  "Yeah, it was."

  "Fill me in on the details," Amy said. "You didn't say very much when you texted earlier."

  "That's because I don't know very much," Heather said. "I told you pretty much everything I know. I don't have any details about whom they're going to arrest or where or how they found him or her, or anything."

  "So all you know is that somebody shot him in the park?"

  Heather rubbed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "Oh, wait. Maricela came by the shop a little while ago."

  "She what? You didn't make her come to work, did you?"

  "Of course not," Heather said. "She came by to ask me to help figure out what happened."

  "You mean, to figure out who did it?"

  "That, I guess. But mainly to figure out why Gustavo had a gun and some crack on him."

  "Why wouldn't he have?" Amy asked.

  "Maricela said he didn't even own a gun. She said he'd never done drugs."

  Amy snorted skeptically.

  "Yeah, I know, that's how it sounded to me, too, at first," Heather said. "She admits that some people in her family have used drugs, and that one person still is using. But she said he wasn't like that."

  "Maybe she didn't know Gustavo as well as she thought she did," Amy said.

  "Maybe not," Heather said. "I just don't know."

  "Sounds like they might be in denial, to me," Amy said carefully. "Nobody wants to admit that a family member isn't a fine, upstanding citizen. And this guy was what, 20 years old?"

  "Yes, 20," Heather said. "But she admitted that other people in their family might have been less than upstanding at one time, so why wouldn't she have admitted it about Gustavo if that were the case?"

  "Maybe because this is all so public," Amy said. "Maybe she doesn't want their family business known all over town."

  "I don't know," Heather said again. "I just hate this for all of them. Whether or not he owned a gun or ever used drugs, they're all torn up about this. And I don't blame them. We were all having a party until the cop showed up and said, oh, by the way, your cousin is dead."

  "They were that insensitive?" Amy asked.

  "No, they did a reasonable job, I suppose," Heather said. "But it's just terrible news to have to deliver. You should have seen Tia Teresa. She just collapsed. Then everybody started crying, and somehow the news spread, and then everybody was crying and hugging each other. Wailing, even. It was awful."

  "I bet it was," Amy said. She paused. "Listen, I didn't mean to sound unsympathetic. I was just trying to be realistic. But if there's anything at all I can do, let me know. I don't know them very well, so I don't know what to offer. Actually, the only two I know are Maricela and Angelica, and I don't even know them very well. But if I can help, let me know."

  "I will," Heather said. "So back to my question. What am I going to do to stay awake until 8 o'clock or so?"

  "You can come keep me company," Amy said. "I'm working on a piece for my next show."

  "I'd love to," Heather said, "but if I had to sit still and be quiet, I'd fall asleep."

  "Good point," Amy said. "In that case, go treat yourself to a mani-pedi or something. Oh, wait, that would involve being still and quiet too. Don't you have any grocery shopping to do? Or don't you need to go to Wal-Mart or something?"

  "I guess I could. Dave is about to need dog food, and I might as well pick up something for supper that's easy to cook. I don't think I'm gonna feel like doing much cooking tonight."

  "There you go," Amy said. "Go do that, and call me back if you need me to help keep you awake when you're done."

  "Okay," Heather sighed. She forced herself to get up out of the comfortable chair she was sitting in. "Wal-Mart, here I come."

  ***

  Heather had just tossed a box of doggie treats into her cart when her phone pinged with an incoming text. She snatched it out of her purse and read the message. One in custody. Everyone safe.

  Good, she texted back. So this is for sure your guy?

  He killed Gustavo, all right, Ryan replied. But he says it was self-defense. His girlfriend confirms his story.

  Self-defense? You mean he says Gustavo was trying to kill him?

  But there was no answer. Heather realized she was still standing in the middle of the dog food aisle and pushed her cart to one of the cash registers at the front of the store. She paid for her items, loaded them into her car, and then drove home.

  She knew Ryan would text her with more details when he could. But still, it was frustrating to know that something had happened, but to be unable to find out what. To have questions, but not to be able to get answers.

  Heather sighed. She wouldn't be able to go to sleep until she found out a little bit more about what the killer and the witness were claiming. She just hoped she could find out before 8 o'clock.

  Only as she pulled into her driveway did she realize she had forgotten the one thing she had gone to the store for: dog food.

  ***

  The call came at 7:30. As the first notes of "Here Comes the Sun" floated from her phone, Heather snatched it up, saw Ryan's number, and accepted the call. "Hello?"

  "Hi, beautiful." Ryan's voice sounded weary. Heather didn't blame him.

  "Hey, handsome," Heather said. "What's going on?"

  "The shooter admits he killed Gustavo. He says that he and his girlfriend were taking a walk in the park. Says he realized he left his cell phone in his car, and he went back to get it while his girlfriend sat down on a nearby bench. When he came back, he found Gustavo harassing his girlfriend — or so he says. Supposedly, he and Gustavo then got into a shouting match, and Gustavo pulled a gun on him. The guy—Marcus Johnson—pulled his own gun and shot first."

  "That doesn't sound like the Gustavo I've heard about," Heather said.

  "Unfortunately, it's a scenario I've heard about all too many times," Ryan answered. "You'
d be surprised how many grown men get into stupid fights about a woman."

  "And what was the girlfriend doing while they were arguing?"

  "She says it all happened so fast, she didn't know what to do. Says she was just standing there trying to stop them from arguing. Then suddenly, Gustavo pulled a gun and her boyfriend fired Gustavo, and Gustavo fell down dead. She and Marcus ran."

  "Why did they run, if it was self-defense?"

  "Johnson had a couple of warrants. They were for stuff that's really no big deal. But he says he didn't want to go to jail either for the warrants or for murder. He says he figured we wouldn't believe him about the self-defense part."

  "Aren't there tests and stuff you can do to verify whether or not he was telling the truth?"

  "Yes, and we’re working on those. So far, it seems like it could've happened the way he said. There's nothing to prove that it couldn't."

  "Does the Reyes family know yet?"

  "They know."

  Heather shook her head. "I can only imagine how they're feeling right now."

  "Yeah," Ryan said. "Listen, I'm sorry. But I have got to get some sleep. I'm running on fumes." A huge yawn put the ending punctuation to his words.

  "I have to get to sleep too," she said. "3 a.m. comes awfully early."

  "Good night, then," Ryan said. "Let's both try to get some sleep, and we'll talk tomorrow. I'll try to stop by the shop."

  "Okay," Heather said, yawning herself. "Good night."

  Hanging up, she glanced at the time display on her phone. It was time to start getting ready for bed. As tired as she was, she didn't think she would have a problem getting to sleep. She just hoped that getting up so early in the morning would be easier than it had been this morning.

  Chapter 5

  It wasn't. Everything in Heather's body rebelled at throwing back the covers and sitting up when the alarm went off. She did it anyway, blinking the sleep from her eyes and rubbing her face briskly with both hands. Wow, she really needed to hire someone else quickly.

  Today was supposed to have been the day they premiered their Pumpkin Spice Delight donuts. Would she be able to do that now, with just her and Jung working in the shop? But wait a minute. Jung had said he had a friend who might be able to start work that morning. If Jung's friend came, Heather decided, she would make the Pumpkin Spice Delight donuts. After all, she would have to help make several varieties of gourmet donuts to fill the glass display cases and give their customers something to choose from.

  And Pumpkin Spice Delight donuts were fairly easy to make. They were a very light cake donut with a pumpkin pie-type filling, topped with whipped cream drizzled with caramel and chopped pecans. They were delicious, and one of her favorite recipes her grandmother had handed down, if not the favorite.

  With fall fast approaching — on the calendar, at least, if not in terms of the actual daily temperatures — Heather expected Pumpkin Spice Delights to be a big hit. Hopefully, Jung's friend would be there so that she could make her first batch.

  When Heather walked into the kitchen of her shop, Jung was already there. So was his friend, a young man he introduced to her as Ken. "Thank you so much for coming," Heather said as they shook hands. “I figure the easiest thing to do would be for you to run the register and serve the customers today. If you like working here, we can see where it goes from there."

  "You got it," Ken said.

  "Let me show you where a few things are," Heather said, heading toward the counter. Ken followed her.

  "I can use a little extra money right now. I appreciate this opportunity," Ken said.

  "And I appreciate you," Heather responded. "I'm sure Jung told you we really need the help."

  Ken proved to be a quick learner. It didn’t take him long to pick up on how to work the cash register. And putting donuts in boxes and pouring coffee wasn’t hard; it just had to be done with efficiency and a smile that made the customer feel valued. Fortunately, Ken excelled at both those qualities.

  Even with Ken’s help, Heather and Jung were kept busy making donuts. After Heather slid the first tray of Pumpkin Spice Delight donuts into the display case, she sat down at her desk to design a sign she could place on top of the counter which would notify their customers of the new variety.

  That’s what she usually did when introducing a new recipe: she placed a sign on top of the counter and then hoped sales took off. Of course, she and her employees did some suggestive selling, too, when it seemed that the customer might be interested. Which reminded her, she’d have to tell Ken to do so as well?

  Heather printed out the sign on the printer next to her desk, then cut it to fit the Lucite holder she used for such signs. Leaving her office, she placed the sign on top of the counter, angled so it would greet customers as they approached the display cases.

  There. Now all that was left to do was to see if her new donut recipe proved as popular as she thought it would.

  ***

  Heather adjusted the plastic hairnet that kept her hair contained so that a stray hair wouldn’t escape from her head and drop into the donuts. With hair as long and heavy as hers, she had to adjust her hairnet several times a day. Either that, or simply get a new one when the weight of her hair stretched out the elastic.

  Maybe I should just spring for some better hairnets, she thought.

  The back door opened, and Heather turned to see who was entering the shop. Maricela stepped inside, followed by Angelica. Immediately, Heather left the donuts she was icing and met the two women just inside the door. “Hey there,” she said.

  “Can we talk to you?” Maricela asked.

  “Of course,” Heather said. “Let’s go into my office.”

  Before she joined them, she snatched a chair from the dining area of the shop, then turned and carried it back to her office.

  Maricela was sitting in the visitor’s chair and Angelica in Heather’s desk chair. When Heather entered, Angelica immediately stood up.

  “No, you sit there,” Heather said, taking the chair from the dining area for herself. “How is everything going at home?”

  “That’s what we wanted to talk to you about,” Maricela said. “Angelica and I want to help.”

  Heather frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “We want to do something,” Angelica broke in. “We no want to sit around and cry. We want to help you find out who kill Gustavo.”

  “I don’t know what to ask you to do,” Heather said.

  “Will this help?” Maricela extended a cell phone toward her.

  “What’s that?” Heather asked.

  “It’s Gustavo’s phone. The police released it to us. I guess they got everything they needed off of it. I don’t know if they got anything helpful, but you’re welcome to look at it and see what you can find.”

  Heather accepted the phone. “Haven’t you already looked at it?”

  “Yes, we looked through his messages, his Facebook, everything,” said Maricela. “But we didn’t find anything. Maybe you will.”

  “You find any other clues?” Angelica asked hopefully.

  “Not yet,” Heather said. “I suppose you know that the police picked up Gustavo’s killer and that he and his girlfriend both say it was self-defense.”

  “They’re lying,” Maricela said. “Gustavo would never threaten anyone with a gun.”

  “Even if he had one?” Heather asked.

  “Even if he had one.”

  Heather frowned down at the phone. What would she be able to find that the police and Gustavo’s cousins hadn’t been able to find? Probably nothing. But if it would make Maricela and Angelica feel better, she would look.

  “I was also hoping you would go somewhere with me,” Maricela said to Heather.

  “Go where?” Heather asked.

  “To the park. To where Gustavo was killed.” Maricela seemed to gather her courage before she continued. “I want to see the place. I want to see where—” Tears choked her, and she stopped.

  Gently
, Heather laid a hand on her arm. “Don’t you think it would be better for one of your family members to go with you?” she asked.

  “They’re not ready. I’m not ready, either,” Maricela managed to say. She took a deep breath that seemed to calm her. “But I want you to see if you can figure anything out. And the sooner, the better.”

  “I’m sure the police will have gathered all the evidence they could,” Heather said. “I’m not sure what else I can do.”

  “Please?” Maricela begged. “Just look around?”