Evil Éclairs

by Jessica Beck

  “I liked the Santa outfits at Christmas,” Grace said.

  “They’re in little green suits at the moment, but I’m ready for a change.”

  I took a sip of my iced tea, and then asked, “You dressed them up as Martians?”

  “Are you kidding? They never would have tolerated that. Well, not Moose. Cow and Spots are ‘go with the flow’ kind of guys. No, I made them St. Patrick’s Day outfits, along with green top hats sporting shamrocks.”

  “What’s next?”

  She thought about it a moment, and then admitted, “I have no earthly idea. It’s too soon for their July Fourth outfits. They’re all going to be Uncle Sams this year.”

  “I can’t wait to see it,” I said.

  After Trish brought Emily a Coke and left, she said, “Suzanne, I know you think I’m crazy naming my place after my stuffed animals.”

  “That’s not true,” I said. “I was just a little worried at first that it might confuse folks about what kind of shop you owned.”

  “Maybe at first,” Emily said, “but now I get a lot of people coming in just to see what the three of them are up to, and while they are there, they pick up a few things along the way. You’d be amazed by how my sales jump whenever the three of them put on something new.”

  “That’s brilliant,” I said. “I’m starting to wish that I’d thought of that.”

  Emily smiled. “Sorry, but it’s taken.”

  Trish brought three plates of food, and as she distributed them, Emily said, “That was fast.”

  “We aim to please,” Trish said.

  After the three of us finished eating, Emily asked, “Can I walk out with you?”

  “That sounds great, but we’ve got to hang around for a meeting.”

  She nodded as she stood. “Thanks for letting me join you. It was great fun.”

  “You are welcome to join us anytime,” I said.

  Trish bussed our table, and then asked, “Can I get you to-go cups for that tea?”

  “Do you mind if we linger a little longer?” I asked.

  She looked around the nearly empty restaurant. “You can stay until four, for all I care. I’ll be back in a second to top off your glasses.”

  We didn’t have long to wait. Less than five minutes later, Cara walked in. She found us in an instant and hurried to join us.

  “I’m sorry about all of the intrigue,” she said, “but I couldn’t let you in.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked. “I like playing spy as much as the next gal, but I like to know about it ahead of time.”

  “The station manager is on the warpath. He thinks there’s been entirely too much public access in our work area, and he’s really cracking down.”

  “At least you won’t have to put up with it for very long,” Grace said.

  “I’ve got some good news on that front. I got a new job,” Cara said. “Gail the Gardening Lady fired her producer the second she heard I was free and hired me on the spot.”

  “That’s great,” I said. At least it was for everyone but Gail’s old producer.

  Cara must have seen something in my gaze. “Don’t worry about Jimmy. He came in drunk more times than he was sober. He said he needed it to get through Granny Gail’s show every day.”

  I had to suppress a smile. I didn’t approve of the way he handled his situation, but I could see why he’d started drinking. There was a quality to Gail’s voice that was like a fingernail running down a blackboard to me, and how she’d ever found a career in radio was beyond me. “Well, at least you’re employed.”

  Cara sighed. “It’s not perfect, but it will do, at least for now. What did you want to see me about? I’ve already told you everything I know.”

  “We were wondering about the name of the builder Lester went after recently,” Grace said.

  “Is there any chance you’ve got his contact information?” I asked.

  Cara nodded. “It’s Vern Yancey. He lives in Hudson Creek, and he should be in the book.”

  “You don’t sound too pleased about him,” I said.

  “Usually I thought Lester was stretching it when he went after someone, but I met Vern once. The man deserved the lashing he got, as far as I’m concerned. Be careful if you go talk to him. I think he’s got some criminal ties that could be bad for you. He doesn’t say much, but things seem to happen when he’s around.”

  “Thanks, we’ll watch our step.”

  Cara glanced at her watch. “My break is almost over. I have to get back to the station.”

  “Can we order you something to go?” I asked.

  “I’ve already eaten, but thanks for the offer. I’ll take a rain check, though,” she called out as she left the grill.

  Grace and I paid our tabs as we left, turning down more tea for the road. If I kept drinking, I wouldn’t be able to sit still for the rest of the day.

  “I haven’t been to Hudson Creek in years,” I said as we drove to the small town thirty minutes south of April Springs.

  “You’re in for a treat, then. They’ve been having some kind of revival there. There are all kinds of antiques shops now, and from what I hear, they’re even starting to get some tourists in.”

  “Why didn’t I hear about this? I love antiquing.”

  “Suzanne, in order to have any semblance of a life, you have to actually leave that donut shop of yours from time to time to see what’s out there.”

  “True,” I said. “How did you find out about it?”

  “A friend of mine lives there,” she said, and didn’t add anything to her explanation.

  I knew what that meant without having to ask. “What’s his name?”

  She glanced over at me. “What are you talking about? What makes you think it’s a man? I have women friends, too.”

  “Okay, then, what’s her name?”

  Grace smiled slightly. “It’s Bill.”

  “Imagine that, a girl named Bill,” I said with an open grin.

  “My point was that it wasn’t necessarily a man.”

  “I got it,” I said. “Why didn’t I ever hear about this guy?”

  She tapped the steering wheel center with her thumbs. “We just went out a few times, and there was nothing really to report. He’s a nice enough fellow, but it turned out we didn’t have that much in common.”

  “Maybe he can give us a little background on Vern. Hudson Creek isn’t that big a place. It’s probably smaller than April Springs.”

  “We could ask,” she said.

  “But you’d rather we didn’t.”

  “No, it’s fine. We both agreed it wasn’t going anywhere, so there were no hard feelings when we stopped dating.”

  “So then where do we find him?”

  Grace made a turn, and then said, “He runs a shop on Elm. It’s part of Antiques Row, and it’s called Yesterday’s Treasures.”

  When we got within the city limits, I could see that Grace was right. Gone were the empty buildings and the shabby storefronts I’d remembered. In their place, antiques shops lined both sides of the road, with the occasional odd store thrown into the mix, including a café and a small bookstore. “It looks kind of charming,” I said.

  As Grace parked in front of her friend’s shop, she said, “It surely is a vast improvement over what they had before. Let’s go see what Bill has to say.”

  The antiques shop was well lit and uncluttered, something I wasn’t used to seeing in that kind of store. It was clear that Bill liked things neat. There were carefully laid out sections marked Tools, Books, Furniture, Collectibles, and several other categories. A tall and willowy man came out of the back office as we walked in, his blue eyes lighting up when he recognized Grace.

  “As I live and breathe,” he said as he took Grace’s hands in his own. “I haven’t seen you in forever. How are you?”

  “I’m well. And you?”

  He pointed around his shop. “Contrary to how it looks at the moment, business is booming.” He turned his gaze toward me.
“Who’s your friend?”

  “This is Suzanne Hart,” she said, and Bill looked delighted.

  “You own Donut Hearts,” he said with a smile.

  “You know it?” I asked. For the life of me, I didn’t recognize him. Not that I knew every customer who came through my door, but I expected him to at least look familiar. “Have we met?”

  “No, but I have a friend who buys donuts from you just about every week, and sometimes she’s good enough to share with me.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Lisa Grambling.”

  “I know Lisa well,” I said. She was a short, curvy woman with a ready smile and a constant yen for my donuts.

  He patted his lean stomach. “Sometimes I wish she wasn’t such a big fan of yours. Are you two ladies looking for something in particular, or are you just browsing?”

  “We’re looking for some information,” Grace said.

  Bill looked around, pretending to study his shop. “Let’s see, I’m not sure I carry that. The closest I come to that is my book section, but I’ve got a hunch that’s not what you’re after.”

  “It’s about Vern Yancey,” I said.

  That’s when Bill’s expression tightened, the smile dropping off his face as though it had never been there.

  “Do you know him?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

  We weren’t about to let it go at that, though. Evidently we’d done the right thing coming to Bill first.

  “It’s okay,” Grace said. “I promise, this is just among friends.”

  It was clear he realized that we weren’t going anywhere without a fight.

  Apparently he didn’t mind having one.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” he said.

  CHAPTER 10

  Grace said softly, “I know we didn’t date a long time, but surely you know me well enough to realize that you can trust me, Bill. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

  “I said I don’t have anything to say to you,” he declared.

  I looked around the shop. “There’s no one here but the three of us. Anything you tell us will be kept quiet. You have our word.”

  Bill frowned, scratched his cheek, and then said, “I’m not a bad guy. I’d like to help you, but I can’t risk it.”

  “We understand,” I said as I tugged at Grace’s arm.

  Instead of leaving as I’d suggested, Grace turned to him. “Bill, it’s safe to tell us. I promise neither one of us will say a word to anyone. Wouldn’t it be nice not to be afraid, just once?”

  Bill lowered his voice, though no one would have been able to hear him had he decided to shout out his reply. “Yeah, maybe it would. I don’t own this building. I lease it, along with just about everyone else on the strip. Take three guesses who owns everything you see.”

  “I just need one,” I said. “So what if Vern is your landlord? He can’t throw you out for talking about him.”

  Bill shook his head. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with. Two months ago Connie Branton made a crack about him at the Popover Diner, and the next day she got an eviction notice. It seemed that she wasn’t in compliance with a clause none of us even recognized. Her aisles were an inch and half too narrow, and she had seven days to vacate the premises. I knew I should have gotten a lawyer to check out the contract I signed with him, but it was such a good deal, I couldn’t afford to say no. It’s the same situation the rest of us are in. Vern’s taken over most of this street, and there’s not a thing any of us can do about it. Now do me a favor and forget I said a word to you.”

  “We can do that,” I said as I started for the door.

  Grace touched his arm lightly. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.”

  Bill forced out a smile. “It’s not that bad. As long as we don’t make waves, things are good here.”

  We were at the door when I stopped and turned around. “Any idea where Vern might be right now?”

  Bill’s face paled slightly. “You’re not going to talk to him, are you?”

  “That’s why we’re here,” I said.

  “Don’t mention my name. Promise me that.”

  “He won’t hear it from us,” Grace said. “Does he have an office around here?”

  “He does, but he won’t be there. Vern is building a new home on Lakeside Road, and he’s been spending all of his time out there on the site.” Bill reluctantly gave us directions, and then said, “But you’d both be doing me a favor if you just forget about him altogether.”

  “I wish we could,” I said, “but like I told you before, it’s important.”

  After we were in the car following Bill’s directions, Grace said, “I can’t believe how spooked Bill was. If you had asked me before we went in, I would have said nothing could rattle him.”

  “It sounds as though he has a right to be jumpy,” I said. “No wonder Lester went after Vern. It explains Cara’s reaction to him, too.”

  “He sounds like a real charmer.”

  “I know it’s not going to be particularly pleasant, Grace, but we have to get a feel for what the man’s capable of.”

  She shook her head. “I think we already know that, don’t you?”

  “Being a bully doesn’t make him a murderer.”

  She frowned a second, and then said, “It doesn’t clear him, either.”

  We got to the house under construction, and it was even larger than Bill had told us. It was hard to believe that anyone in Hudson Creek could afford that kind of place, but if Vern Yancey owned as much of the town as Bill said, it was entirely possible.

  We got out of the car as a brand-new black Ford pickup came down the drive. The man behind the wheel stopped when he saw us, and rolled his window down.

  “Help you?” he asked.

  “We’re looking for Vern Yancey,” I said.

  “Found him,” he answered. Vern was clearly a man of few words. I couldn’t see a great deal of him, but what I saw wasn’t the least bit intimidating. He was in his fifties, a small and wiry man with wisps of hair hanging doggedly onto his scalp.

  “Do you have a second?” Grace asked.

  “About that,” he answered. It was clear that he had no interest in getting out of the car, so we were going to have to interview him right there.

  “It’s about Lester Moorefield,” I said.

  Vern spat in the dirt. “Got what he deserved, if you ask me.”

  This wasn’t going to be easy. “He came after you, too, didn’t he?”

  That sparked a little interest in his gaze. “You?”

  “I own a donut shop, and he called my donuts poison.”

  Vern nodded, whether in simple acknowledgment or sympathy, I couldn’t say.

  “We were wondering if the police have asked you for an alibi yet,” Grace said.

  “Nope.”

  “Do you have one?” I asked.

  He stared holes through me, rolled up his window, and drove off.

  I looked at Grace. “That went well, didn’t it?”

  “Probably what we should have expected,” I answered. “I’m going to tell Jake about him. I’m curious to see how tough Vern is when he’s talking to a state police investigator.”

  “He can’t say much less, can he? What should we do next?”

  I checked my watch. “I think we need to head back to April Springs. There’s nothing else we can learn here.”

  “I’m fine with that,” Grace said. “It’s just really frustrating when people won’t talk to us.”

  “They’re not under any obligation to,” I said. “We just have to take the crumbs we can get, and do our best with that. I’m trying to discover things Jake might miss, not solve the case. If I can give him a tip or two and not have to talk to a murderer, I’m fine with that.”

  “Okay, then. Home it is. When are you going to talk to Jake?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said as we drove back home. “I’
ll have to find the right moment.”

  Grace laughed. “Good luck with that.”

  As we drove back into town, I reflected that I was happy I lived in April Springs and not Hudson Creek. Our community, though small, was diverse enough that no one person could exert that much influence over us. Then again, I wondered how many people in Hudson Creek were actually aware of what Vern Yancey was doing. Could there be an equally strong power at work behind the scenes in our town? If there was, I didn’t know about it, and frankly, I liked it that way. There were times when ignorance was bliss, and I was willing to count this as one of them. I had enough to worry about in my own circle without taking on any more concerns. As long as I had my mother, my friends, and my donuts, I could be happy with the way the rest of the world operated.

  “Suzanne, I think we found George,” Grace said as she neared Donut Hearts. His sedan was parked in the spot beside mine.

  “I wonder how long he’s been waiting,” I said. As we got closer, I saw that George was slumped over in his seat.

  Had something happened to him while we’d been off chasing clues? If he was dead, particularly because he’d been helping me, I’d never be able to forgive myself.

  * * *

  I held my breath as I tapped on the car window. “George? Are you all right?”

  To my great relief, he jerked up in his seat. “Sorry about that,” he said as he got out. “I must have dozed off.”

  “I’m the one who’s been up since one-thirty,” I said. “If anybody deserves a nap, it’s me.”

  “I’ve been having a little trouble sleeping lately,” he admitted. “Enough about that. Where have you two been?”

  “We just got back from Hudson Creek,” Grace said.

  “I never did like that town.”

  “It’s an interesting place,” I said. “We were interviewing a suspect there. Have you ever heard of Vern Yancey?”

  “Why do you think I don’t care for Hudson Creek? He’s a cocky little bantam rooster of a man. I arrested him once for speeding, and he threatened me with just about everything short of public hanging if I didn’t tear up the ticket.”

  “Did it stick?” Grace asked.

  “You bet, but he’s been gunning for me ever since. I’m sorry I didn’t get in on that interview with you. I would have loved to put the screws to him again.”