Scary Sweets

by Jessica Beck

  “Everyone participating needs to find a place at one of the tables. We will distribute the basic donuts as soon as everyone is ready. They have all been iced with a simple white icing, so don’t be afraid to use your imagination.” As I spoke, Emma, Sharon, Ray, and Barton put out the decorations, from small baggies half full of icing and ready to pipe to black and orange sprinkles, worm gummies, crumbled black cookies, and a dozen other odds and ends that we thought might be creepy enough to use. “We will begin in one minute.”

  I rolled the cart of donuts to the door and prepared to face our competitors. I was surprised to find that the kids were remarkably well behaved. I only hoped that the older participants followed suit later. As Emma and Barton put out the plates in front of the kids, Sharon and I distributed the donuts almost as quickly. We had to eject a few obvious teenagers during the process, and everyone laughed as they slunk away.

  “Ready. Set. Go,” I called out in a loud, strong voice.

  It was an instant disaster as pandemonium reigned.

  What had started off as such a good idea had quickly devolved into a donut-decorating nightmare.

  The chief blew his whistle again and again, but it didn’t help. Several of the kids were fighting for the same bowl of gummy worms, while another group had upended three bowls of sprinkles, which were skittering all over the pavement. Some of the kids had abandoned their donuts completely and were throwing toppings at each other, and one even hurled her donut at a rival, hitting the poor little girl in the face.

  I decided that it was time to take matters into my own hands and end this before it got even uglier.

  “YOUR TIME IS UP,” I shouted. “Put down your toppings and step away from your donuts!” I tried to make it sound as positive and cheerful as I could, but the strain in my voice was clear.

  The contest had lasted less than one minute.

  “But I’m not finished,” a little girl whined, obviously on the brink of tears.

  I could relate.

  I was on the edge of hysteria myself.

  “Okay, let’s see what we’ve got,” the mayor said as he studied the carnage, doing his best to put a positive spin on things himself. Half the donuts had barely been decorated, while many had been altered beyond recognition, even given the short amount of time the kids had. How the mayor was going to choose any winners at all was beyond me. As some of the parents began to grumble, the mayor did his best to keep his smile. I looked at Cassandra, who had her face in her hands. It was clear she wasn’t at all sure what to do, either, but at least she was letting the mayor handle things on his own.

  For all I knew, it might have been done at random, but George quickly awarded the three winners, one for the spookiest, one for the funniest, and one for the most creative.

  They all looked perilously equal to me, but before anyone could protest, George’s voice boomed out, “Contestants, you may now eat your donuts!”

  The kids tore into them with ravenous delight, destroying the evidence of any differences there might have been in their decorations. It was a brilliant move, and the grumbling mostly stopped as the kids squealed in delight as they consumed their donuts. Given how the contest had started, it was as good an outcome as I could have hoped for.

  It had been a debacle, and what was worse, once we got everything cleaned up, we had to do it all over again.

  I just hoped the seniors behaved better than the kids did, but I wasn’t putting any money on it.

  “Hey, Suzanne. That was really something, wasn’t it?” Barton Gleason asked me as I surveyed the reset.

  “Something like a disaster, you mean?” I asked him.

  “Honestly, it turned out better than I thought it would,” the young chef said with a grin.

  I looked at him askance. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “Hey, no offense. I didn’t mean anything by it,” Barton said, quickly backpedaling. “I still think it was a good idea. The kids had a good time, and that’s really all that matters, isn’t it?”

  “I suppose so.” I knew that we needed to talk about the restaurant idea, but I wasn’t in any shape to do it at the moment. Still, I didn’t want the issue clouding things between us, so we might as well discuss it. “About the idea that you could use Donut Hearts as a restaurant,” I started to say before Barton interrupted me.

  “No worries. We can talk about it later,” he said lightly.

  “I just wanted you to know that I’m still thinking about it,” I went on. “Is that okay with you?”

  “Suzanne, I’m honored that you are even considering it. Now, let’s get back to the task at hand. What can we do differently this time?”

  “I think the plan itself was solid,” I said, relieved that I didn’t have to get into our joint usage of Donut Hearts at the moment. “Hopefully the seniors will be a little more disciplined than the kids were, don’t you think?”

  “You might think so, but you never know,” he said with a smile. “When are we going to get started?”

  “I’m waiting for the mayor to come back so he can judge again,” I said. He and Cassandra had slipped away, and I wondered if he was going to abandon me after all. Not that I could blame him if he did. As I scanned the crowd looking for George, I saw Paige Hill, Denise Osmond, Arthur Bradshaw, Cal Jeffries, and a handful of other donut customers, but there was no sign of the mayor.

  There was a tap on my shoulder, and I turned to find Max, my ex-husband, standing there grinning. “I heard about the kids’ contest,” he said happily. “I’m just sorry I missed it.”

  “Is your group going to behave any better than they did?” I asked him.

  “Since when did they become ‘my’ group?” he asked.

  “Since you took over the community theater,” I said. “They all call you their ringleader.”

  “I just want to go on record that I’m taking no responsibility for what happens when you start the contest,” Max said. “Have you seen Emily?” he asked as he looked out into the crowd. She was his steady girlfriend and one-time fiancée, but the wedding hadn’t happened. They were still together though, and it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if they finally got married someday.

  “No, but she’s about the only person from town not here. Look at this crowd,” I said as people kept milling about, the conversations sounding like locusts from a distance.

  “I know. Word got out about the kids’ contest, and everyone wants to see what’s going to happen now. Hey, there she is. See you later, Suzanne. Good luck.”

  “I’m just hoping I don’t need it,” I said as Max left me to join Emily.

  Momma walked up at that moment and touched my arm. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m as well as can be expected. Where have you been?”

  “Doing some sleuthing,” she said with a grin.

  “Hey, you made me promise not to do anything without you. That’s hardly fair that you went off on your own,” I protested.

  “Take a breath, Suzanne. I spent my time on the telephone, and I uncovered some pretty amazing things. It’s astonishing how people will gossip once they are given the opportunity. This is turning out to be more fun than I imagined.”

  It was hard to be cross with her, especially since it was clear that she had made some progress on the case, which was more than I could say. “What did you find out?”

  “That’s all going to have to wait,” Momma said as she pointed in the direction of City Hall. “Here comes the mayor and his paramour. I’ll see you later.”

  As my mother disappeared into the crowd, I saw that George and Cassandra were indeed making their way toward me, so I decided to respect Momma’s wishes and delay any further questioning, not that I had much choice. That woman was as quick as a cat when she wanted to be.

  Besides, I had another contest to run.

  CHAPTER 14

  Before George made it to me though, Jenny Preston came up. “Suzanne, have you seen Gabby or Margaret?” she asked as she scanned the crow
d.

  Why did everyone think that I suddenly knew where folks were? “No, but honestly, I haven’t been looking for them. Why do you need them?”

  “I don’t. I just wanted to ask Gabby about an outfit she was holding for me, and I wanted to get Margaret’s opinion on it if she was around. You know that she’s been giving me a hand at the shop lately.”

  I’d seen Margaret Sayers working at For The Birds earlier, but contrary to popular belief, I didn’t know everything that happened in April Springs. I assumed that Vivian Reynolds must have quit though, because I doubted that the store would need two clerks besides Jenny herself.

  “Sorry.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll track them down myself. Good luck,” she said as she darted off into the crowd.

  George finally joined me, and I noticed that Cassandra had stayed back to give him the limelight alone. I was afraid that she might be cross with me for my earlier conversation with the mayor, but when we made eye contact, she smiled and mouthed the words, “Thank you” to me, so it appeared that we were okay. Still, I’d have to make more of an effort with her, just as George had suggested. If Cassandra was going to be a big part of my friend’s life, it behooved me to do my part to make her feel welcome.

  “Are you ready for Round Two?” George asked me as he finally reached me. “It’s quite a bigger turnout than before, isn’t it?”

  “I suppose bad news travels fast,” I said. “Why are you so chipper?”

  “Look at all these voters,” George said with a grin. “How can I miss?”

  “Are you always running for reelection, Mr. Mayor?” I asked him with a grin, glad that we were back on good terms again.

  “The only way to do good is to stay on the job,” George said. “I wasn’t a fan of politicking in the beginning, but I’ve learned that it’s part of what I have to do, whether I like it or not, so I might as well take advantage of it. Now, are you going to kick this thing off, or should I?”

  “I’ll do it,” I said, surprised by how becoming mayor had changed my friend.

  Stepping forward, I said in my loudest voice, “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming to the seniors portion of our event. I’d like to take this moment to remind the contestants that this is all done in fun. Enjoy yourself, and don’t forget, you get to eat your entry when the judging is over, so in a real way, everybody wins.”

  We kept the same format as the last time, and the donuts were soon distributed. We had so many contestants that we’d even had to turn a few away, much to my surprise. We could have probably jammed them in somehow, but we’d run out of donuts to decorate, something that I never thought would happen.

  “Ready. Set. Go.”

  As I said the last word, the seniors leapt into action. There were a few squabbles about decorations, but all in all, they managed to behave themselves a sight better than the kids had. I was just about to let out the breath I was holding when it happened.

  The center and largest table we’d set up suddenly collapsed, sending donuts, toppings, and seniors everywhere.

  To make matters worse, one of the contestants, a gray-haired man I didn’t know, fell to the ground as well, clutching his chest. The paramedics swooped in, and they soon had him on their gurney, wheeling him to the ambulance. At least he was still breathing, and he looked relatively alert. The entire time they wheeled him away, he kept shouting, “I’m fine, I tell you. I’m not having a heart attack. Somebody elbowed me in the chest when the table fell. Let me off this blasted thing.”

  At least there hadn’t been any fatalities.

  Except to my contest.

  After George picked three winners in rapid succession, the crowd began to break up, leaving behind an incredible mess. Worse yet, most of the contestants didn’t even eat their donuts. I hated throwing away so much food. The idea for this competition had been a disaster from start to finish, and I considered cancelling the last two events altogether, but I knew if I did that, the only thing people in April Springs would remember was that I’d reneged on a promise, and I wasn’t about to let that happen. Good, bad, or indifferent, we were moving forward.

  At least those contests weren’t until the next day, so I’d have a little time to catch my breath.

  It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

  As Emma, Sharon, Barton, and I finished cleaning up, my mother approached me and said, “I checked on the men earlier.”

  “What men?” I asked, trying to scrape most of an iced donut off of the street.

  “Our men,” she said. “Have you already forgotten about the remodeling project?”

  In the turmoil that had been surrounding me lately, I had forgotten about them indeed. “How are they doing?”

  “They are both exhausted,” Momma said with a grin. “If they last until dinner tonight, I’ll be amazed. We’re right on schedule, Suzanne.”

  “Well, that’s something, anyway,” I said. I was probably going to have to get out the garden hose to wash everything down, or we were going to have an infestation of ants that would be unprecedented for our little town.

  “I thought you’d be more pleased than that,” Momma said, clearly a little hurt by how her news had been received.

  “I am. I just have a lot on my mind at the moment,” I said.

  “That’s understandable enough,” Momma said. I was about to ask her what she’d learned when George came up.

  “Just so you know, Hiram Haskins is fine,” George said.

  “That’s wonderful,” I said. “Who exactly is Hiram Haskins?”

  “The man they carted off on the stretcher,” he said.

  “Excellent,” I said.

  George just shrugged. “The volunteer fire department is going to come wash down the street any second. You’ve done a great job, Suzanne.”

  “How do you figure that?” I asked him. “The kids’ contest was a nightmare, and in some ways the seniors’ round was even worse.”

  “Maybe so, but folks are talking about it in seven counties. Turnout for Fright Week is going to go through the roof. You mark my words.”

  “I’m glad I could help,” I said sarcastically.

  “Don’t take it so personally,” George said. “In a month, all anybody is going to remember is that the festival was a success.”

  “I hope so, but I kind of doubt it,” I said as I looked around. The trash had all been dealt with, the tables returned to storage, and the crowd was gone. All that was left behind was a series of sweet stains on the pavement, mostly orange blobs of icing scattered all around.

  It looked as though a giant bowl of orange sherbet had exploded.

  “You worry too much,” George said as he waved the crew in to finish the job.

  Sharon and Ray had already left, and as we gathered the trash bags together, I told Barton and Emma, “You two can take off. I’ll finish up here.”

  “Are you sure?” Emma asked me. “I know for a fact that there are still dirty dishes inside.”

  “You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty,” I assured her. “I can handle whatever is left.”

  “I’ll pitch in, too,” Momma said.

  After they were gone, we dove into the work that needed to be done, and as we did the dishes, Momma began to tell me what she’d uncovered.

  “Apparently Margaret disappeared thirty years ago, and no one knew where she went. It wasn’t all that uncommon for girls to visit family for extended periods of time back then,” Momma said.

  “Do you mean what I think you mean? Was she gone nine months?” I asked her.

  “No, they’d wait until she’d started to show, but you have the right idea,” Momma said.

  “What does this have to do with Carson Winfield?” I asked her as we worked side by side in the kitchen cleaning up after the mess that had been made.

  “I’m not positive, but my guess is that he was the father,” Momma said. “My source wasn’t sure, so I’ve got a call in to someone else.”

  “Do yo
u think Margaret killed him because of what happened so long ago?” I asked her.

  “It’s possible. We certainly need to speak with her about it. She’s not the only one we need to talk to, though. Evidently Arthur Bradshaw and Carson had a problem a few years after that over another girl, but I’m waiting to get more details there, too.”

  “Wow, I’ve heard that revenge was a dish best served cold, but this is ridiculous. Who holds a grudge that long and then acts on it out of the blue and kills him? Why wait so long?” I asked.

  “Maybe it has something to do with Carson coming back to the area,” Momma said. “Evidently he lived in Montana for a good many years.”

  “That’s got to be it, doesn’t it? I can’t imagine how Carson thought anything good would come of him returning to April Springs.”

  “He must have had his reasons, but I’m sure if he had it to do over again, he would have stayed away. We’ll never know though, will we?” Momma asked me.

  “I’m not so sure. Carson might not be able to tell us himself, but I’m willing to bet that Margaret can. Whether she will or not is another story altogether. It’s going to be tough pressing her with Gabby standing around acting as her bodyguard.”

  “Is there any chance we can separate them?”

  “I doubt it,” I said. “Gabby can be overprotective when she wants to be. It’s too bad we don’t need to distract Margaret. Jenny confirmed this afternoon that she was working for her at For The Birds. Did you know about that? I mean before we followed Jenny back to her shop?”