by Jessica Beck
“That’s not all from the candy, is it?”
She admitted, “No, I used some peppermint essence to give it a little boost. Why, did I use too much?”
“We won’t know until they’re fried,” I said. I had my doubts, but I was going to keep them to myself.
I dropped half a dozen donut rounds into the fryer, waited for them to finish on one side, then flipped them with my wooden skewers so they’d cook on the other side.
“They’re certainly colorful,” I said as I pulled them out and put them on the glazing rack. I didn’t know how many candy canes she’d used, but I would have cut that portion in half myself. As for the peppermint flavoring, I had no idea how strong or weak it might be, but from the aroma, I had a feeling they were going to be awfully sweet.
Emma glazed them, then said, “I can’t taste it, I’m too nervous. You try one.”
I wouldn’t let her chicken out, though. “Come on, you made the recipe; it’s your privilege to try the first one.”
“Privilege, or obligation?” she asked, but she still took one, broke it in half, and tried a bite of it.
“Wow, too much peppermint flavoring,” she said as she waved a hand in front of her mouth.
“Let me see,” I said as I broke off my own bite. I took a smaller piece than Emma had, but I could still feel my nasal passages opening up from the strong flavoring.
“They’re horrible, aren’t they?” she asked.
“It’s not bad for a first try. Next time, I’d cut the candy cane portion and the peppermint in half.”
“Or more,” she said.
I pointed to the prep counter. “Go ahead and mix up another batch; we have time before we have to start the yeast donuts.”
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll wait until another day to try it out again. I’m not sure I could face tasting another one right now.”
“Coward,” I said as I started to clean the donut dropper out in the sink. The batter washed down easily enough, but there were bits of peppermint blocking the strainer.
Emma watched me for a few seconds, then she nudged me to one side. “I’ll do that. It’s my job, and besides, I’m the one who made the mess.”
“What do you want to do with these?” I asked as I pointed to the five donuts remaining on the glazing grid.
“Toss them out,” she said.
I started to do as she asked, then on an impulse, I set a few aside. If Max had been around, I would have been tempted to serve him one out of pure meanness. Thinking of him made me wonder what my ex-husband was up to, and where he was at the moment. Was he still in April Springs, or had he taken off as soon as he’d realized that Chief Martin was after him? And what about Muriel? Was she holed up in someone else’s house, or was she in more trouble than that? If she was someone’s target, I wouldn’t have blamed her for leaving town, and might have done the same thing myself if I didn’t have a donut shop to run. I discounted the theory that they were together, since I still couldn’t wrap my head around that particular idea.
But I still wished I knew where they were, and if they were safe.
Maybe today would offer some answers.
It would be a nice change of pace.
So far, all I’d been able to generate was more questions, and I had more of those than I could handle at the moment.
* * *
George was waiting at the front door at 5:30 when I walked out to open the shop. The snow looked to be finally gone for good, but the temperatures had plummeted, and I couldn’t imagine why he was outside braving the cold just to get into my shop.
I held the door open for him, and as I stepped aside to let him in, I said, “Come on in. It’s freezing out there. Why didn’t you knock on the door? I didn’t know you were out here.”
“I could wait,” George said as he took off his coat.
“That’s just silly,” I said. “Come on in and warm up.”
George shrugged as he looked at me. “Is that what I get for being considerate? It’s like I always say, no good deed goes unpunished.”
“Have some coffee,” I said as I filled a mug and shoved it into his hand.
He took a healthy sip, then said, “That hits the spot.”
I nodded. “I think so, too. Let me get you a couple of donuts, and then we can talk.”
George sniffed the air. “Is that peppermint? I love peppermint. I’ll take three of whatever that is I smell.”
“They aren’t ready for sale yet,” I said. “We got the flavor too intense in the first batch, but we might have some ready in a few days.”
“That’s not fair,” George said. “You know I’ve never had a problem with being a guinea pig. At least bring me one to try.”
He’d insisted, and I could see from the look on his face that he was serious. “Hang on.” I walked back into the kitchen to get one for him.
“Customers already?” Emma asked as she looked up from the sink where she was doing another round of dishes.
“George is out there,” I said.
I tried to sneak one of her peppermint donuts from the place where I’d stashed them, but she caught me at it. “I thought I smelled those. You were supposed to throw them away.”
“I was going to, but George really wants one.”
Emma stepped in front of me, blocking my way. “You’re not giving him one, are you? Suzanne, those things are lethal.”
“I figure he’s a big boy, he can make up his own mind. Besides, he’s not going to give up until he gets a bite.”
She reluctantly stepped aside, then followed me out of the kitchen. Before I could give the donut to George, Emma said, “I just want you to know that she’s doing this against my will. They’re too strong.”
“I don’t mind. I like things strong,” George said.
We were both watching him as he raised the donut to his lips.
He hesitated at the attention, then George said, “I’m not in the circus, you don’t have to watch me.”
“We’re not about to miss this,” I said, “So you might as well go ahead and take a bite. Hang on a second.” I grabbed a bottled water from the mini fridge and put it down in front of him.
“What’s that for?”
“I’ve got a feeling you’re going to need it,” I said.
He shook his head. “This is nonsense.” George took a bite, chewed it, and beyond my expectations, somehow managed to swallow. He kept his expression even as he said, “I got a bit of candy cane in that bite. I don’t know what you two are talking about. I think they’re good.”
Emma said, “Trust me; I don’t think this recipe is ready for prime time yet.”
George shook his head. “I really liked it. In fact, if you have any more, I’ll take another one.”
Emma said with disbelief, “I’ll be right back.” In a second, she returned with the last two. “There you go.”
As George took another healthy bite, she shook her head. “If you don’t need me, I’m going back to the dishes.”
After she was gone, I said, “Now, would you like more donuts, or did you get up at this abysmal hour to discuss something more important?”
“I wanted to catch up with you before things got busy,” he said. “I’ve had some luck in my investigation.”
“I found something out that was pretty interesting myself,” I replied. “Do you want to go first?”
“You go ahead,” George said. “I’m waiting for one more call before I can tell you what I might have found out.”
“Okay,” I said. “Hang on one second.” I grabbed a cup of coffee, then rejoined him. After taking a sip, I said, “First of all, going to Cutnip wasn’t as productive at first as I thought it might be. Wilma stonewalled us the entire time we were there, and from the way she spoke about Darlene, she was a saint to work with, and a dear friend to everyone who met her.”
“That’s a natural reaction, isn’t it?” George said. “No one likes to speak ill of the dead.”
“Just wa
it; there’s more. One of the other beauticians caught up with us outside, and before Wilma could lasso her back in, she told Grace and me that Wilma had a blowout fight with Darlene just before she was murdered.”
“What were they fighting about?” George asked.
“From the sound of it, Wilma accused Darlene of stealing from her, and it got pretty ugly. That’s when Grace and I decided to go by Darlene’s and see what we could find at her place.”
George frowned. “Tell me you didn’t go in.”
I’d heard that scolding tone of voice from him before. “George, the chief has had plenty of time to search Darlene’s place. I don’t know what assumptions he’s working under, but if he ignores the murder victim, how good could he really be?”
He didn’t say anything, but I could tell George wasn’t happy about it. Just then, his cell phone rang. He looked at who was calling him, then said, “I need to take this.” George grabbed his coat and walked out into the bitter cold.
A minute later I heard the front door chime, and I expected to see George walk back in, but it was Taylor Higgins instead.
“One coffee to go, please,” Taylor said.
“Will you eat a donut if I give you one on the house?” I asked, trying to joke him into taking one.
“Just coffee,” he said. “Any news on what’s been happening?”
“Nobody tells me anything,” I said as I got him his coffee, sliding a fresh glazed donut into a bag and pushing it toward him.
He managed to resist the bait. “Sorry, no sale.”
“It’s on the house,” I said.
“You keep it,” he said, trying to avoid looking at the bag.
“You honestly don’t like donuts, do you?” I said, staring at him in open wonder.
He frowned, bit his lower lip, then said, “No, I’m sorry. I never acquired a taste for them.”
“And yet you keep showing up here,” I said, retrieving the spurned donut.
“I like the coffee, and the company,” he said, and then left, disappearing back out into the early morning darkness.
George came back in, stomping his feet at the door. “It’s going to be a few more minutes.”
“Until what?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not yet. So tell me, what did you find at Darlene’s place?”
“What makes you think I found something?” I asked.
“Come on, I was a cop too long not to be able to see the signs. You might as well go ahead and tell me.”
“Don’t get mad,” I said.
“No promises.”
I shrugged. If I wanted George’s help, I was going to have to trust him with everything I knew. If that meant another chewing out, then so be it.
I reached into my jeans pocket and pulled out Lester’s business card—complete with the odd number written on back—and the matching hundred-dollar-bill.
George looked at both items, then got a clean napkin and took them from me. After a full minute, he asked, “Suzanne, where did you find these?”
“The hundred dollar bill was in a box in her closet, and the card was in her purse.”
I could tell he was uneasy with what I’d done, but at least he kept it to himself. I asked, “Do you have any idea what this might mean?”
He shook his head, so I said, “After I lock up today, Grace and I are going to talk to Lester about it at the radio station.”
“That’s probably not the smartest thing you’ve ever done in your life,” George said. “You should let me handle it.”
“If you go, it will seem like the police are investigating. I want him off-guard.”
“I’m not a cop anymore, remember?”
“George, you might not have a badge, but every single mannerism you have screams police.”
He shrugged. “I still think you’re taking a risk.”
“Grace and I are going together, and honestly, what’s Lester going to do in broad daylight? Can you truly see him trying to hurt us?”
“If he’s covering up for another murder, absolutely,” George said.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be careful.”
George waved the bill in the air. “You said you found this in Darlene’s closet. Was there much money there?”
“All I found was five individual hundred-dollar bills,” I said.
“And did any of the rest of them have numbers on them?” she asked.
“No, just this one. Several of the cards had numbers written on the backs of them, though. Why?”
George took a sip of coffee, then frowned. “I’m not sure.”
“Don’t hold out on me,” I said.
He thought about that, then said, “That five hundred dollars could be money she stole from Wilma.”
“I suppose it’s possible,” I said. “But would she take hundreds? Those are easy to miss, whereas tens or even twenties might be simpler to take without Wilma realizing she was even being robbed.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out,” George said. “In the meantime, I see why you want to talk to Lester, but be careful, okay?”
“We will.” I looked at his empty mug. “Would you like more coffee?”
George nodded, but just then, his telephone rang. He ducked back outside before I could top his mug off, and I waited patiently until he came back in. From what I could see, he was doing most of the talking, never a good sign with George. I was about to go outside to see what was going on myself the front door opened, and George rushed in.
He said, “Okay, it’s time for a field trip. Grab your coat and let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I just found out where Muriel’s been hiding, but if we don’t hurry, we’re going to miss her.”
I shouted out, “Emma, I’ll be back in a little bit. You’ve got the front until I get back,” as I grabbed my jacket and rushed out the front door with George.
It probably wasn’t fair to keep sticking her with a job she hated, but I couldn’t let that stop me.
Maybe it was time I was finally going to get some of the answers I’d been searching for.
CHAPTER 10
“I’ll drive,” George said.
I didn’t have any problem with that, so I got into his Cadillac. “Be careful. The roads are still a little tricky.”
I had a sudden insight into where we were going. “We’re heading over to Gabby Williams’s place, aren’t we?”
George took his eyes off the road for a second and looked at me intently. “Which is it, Suzanne? Are you a lipreader, or a mindreader?”
“Neither one,” I said. “Why do you ask that?”
“Because unless you saw me mouth the name or read my mind, how else would you know where Muriel’s been hiding out? You haven’t been holding out on me, have you, Suzanne?”
“Of course not,” I said. “It just makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“Not to me,” George said. “Go ahead and explain, I’m listening.”
“You probably didn’t realize it because you don’t know Gabby the way I do. She suddenly closed her shop sometime in the last couple of days and disappeared, which is odd enough to mark her behavior, but then she didn’t come by my place first to tell me what was going on. Gabby feels it’s her personal obligation to tell everyone whatever she’s doing, and she seems to take particular pleasure in keeping me in the loop of what’s happening in her life. If there was something big enough to get her to shut her shop down until further notice, trust me, she’d take an ad out in the paper.”
I looked back at George to see if he believed me. “I swear, I’m not holding out on you.”
“I believe you,” he said. We were nearing Gabby’s place, and there was one question I had to ask before we got there. “I told you how I reasoned it out, but you didn’t mention how you knew.”
He pointed ahead, and there was a car parked on the street with its lights on, and from the plume of smoke, it was idling, ready to take off at a moment’s notice. We were just
a hundred yards from Gabby’s house, but George pulled in behind the idling car instead of driving up to Gabby’s.
I couldn’t have been more surprised if the Easter Bunny had stepped out of the car when I saw Officer Grant get out.
He and George shook hands, and he nodded to me before addressing George. He said, “You have five minutes, and then I’m calling the chief.”
“Got it,” George said. “Let’s go,” he said to me.
I looked quizzically at the police officer, but he didn’t meet my gaze.
I quickly caught up with George, then asked, “What’s going on? Why is he helping us?”
“He owes me a favor, and it’s a big one,” George said. “I called in the marker to get his help, but he wasn’t all that happy about me being here before his boss. That’s what took me so long on the phone. He’s a good cop, and this goes against his grain.”
“That must have been some favor he owed you,” I said.
George just shrugged. “Come on. We don’t have much time.”
He walked up the front steps, then pounded on the door. “Gabby, open up. I see your light’s on in the hallway and I noticed your shadow a second ago, so don’t try to pretend you’re not awake yet.”
There was no response, then George said, “Everyone knows Muriel’s there. You’ve got four minutes until the police get here, so you might as well talk to me first.”
There was no response.
I said, “Let me try.”
George shrugged, so I said, “Gabby, it’s Suzanne Hart. Let us in. We’re here to help Muriel, but if the police get her first, we might not be able to do anything for her.”
George looked at me as if I’d lost my mind, but to our mutual surprise, the front door opened, and Muriel burst out of the house, wrapping me in her embrace.
* * *
“I can’t take it anymore,” Muriel said. “This is killing me,” she added as she pulled away from me.
Just behind her, Gabby looked clearly peeved as she said, “You might as well all come in. At least it’s warm inside.”
“The police really are coming,” I said. “There was nothing we could do about that.”