Raspberry Mojito Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 20

by Gillard,Susan

  Get Early Access to My Books For FREE!

  Every two weeks you’ll get a new Cozy Novella from me absolutely FREE.

  Sign up now! http://bit.ly/SusanDGillard

  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright 2016 by Guardian Publishing Group - All rights reserved.

  All rights Reserved. No part of this publication or the information in it may be quoted from or reproduced in any form by means such as printing, scanning, photocopying or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 1

  Heather tilted her face upward, and the rays of the sun played across her nose and cheeks. She smiled and shut her eyes for a second.

  “Keep walking like that and you’re gonna hit a lamppost,” Amy said, beside her.

  Lilly giggled, and Dave yapped a bark in agreement. Her three favorite people, apart from the fourth who was hard at work at the local station – could the day get any better?

  Heather opened her eyes and focused on the horizon. “I can’t help it. I feel like it’s going to be a good week.”

  “You’re not nervous for the opening?” Amy asked.

  The grand opening of the newly renovated Donut Delights was a week away, and Heather could barely contain her excitement. “Oh, I’m nervous all right, but that won’t stop me from enjoying a walk with you guys.”

  “Au-Heather,” Lilly said, then cleared her throat. “We should come up with a new donut for the grand opening. Something really yummy. Maybe with berries.”

  “Berries?” Amy asked.

  Heather glanced at the two of them and grinned.

  “I love berries. Strawberries, blueberries, raspberries.” Lilly ticked them off on her fingers of her free hand – the other clutched the end of Dave’s leash. “Please, can we do that?”

  “Yeah, I think berries are a great idea.” Heather patted Lilly on the shoulder, then bent and scratched Dave on his furry head, right between the ears. He looked up at her, and his tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth.

  “What’s that smell?” Amy asked.

  Heather straightened and wrinkled her nose. “Smoke,” she replied, then scanned the horizon. Her insides twisted, and she pointed at a column of black which rose through the air.

  Distant sirens streaked through the morning, and an ambulance skidded around the corner at the end of the road.

  “What if it’s –?”

  “Don’t,” Heather said, and raised a palm. That smoke was close to Donut Delights. What if something had gone wrong at the store? What if the final week of construction had rushed the guys working on the building and someone had made a mistake.

  “Nope,” Lilly said, and placed her hand over her eyes to shade it from Hillside’s sharp sunlight. “That’s too far away to be from the store.”

  Ten years old and already too perceptive for her age. She did want to be a detective when she was older, and that’d suit Lilly just fine.

  Heather let out a long, low breath. “Well, I guess we’d better –”

  Lilly hurried along the sidewalk in the direction of the smoke.

  “Lilly!” Heather and Amy yelled.

  “Let’s see what happened,” Lilly called, over her shoulder. Dave’s doggy tail wagged in frantic circles – clearly, he’d made up his mind as to where his allegiance lay.

  Heather and Amy shared a glance. They couldn’t let her wander off on her own.

  “Lilly Jones, you come back here, right this second,” Heather said, in her best mom voice. Or maybe it was her worse.

  Either way, Lilly paused for a second and rolled her eyes. “C’mon Heather, it’s not that big of a deal. I mean, it’s just a fire. Aren’t you curious to see where it’s coming from?”

  Amy nudged Heather in the ribs. “She has a point.”

  “Don’t you start,” Heather replied.

  A cop car sailed around the corner, lights on, and sped off along the same route as the ambulance.

  “Uh oh,” Heather whispered. The cops. That meant something had gone seriously wrong.

  “Can we go now?” Lilly asked. Dave whined, and then scratched beneath his collar. His name tag jangled against his furry throat.

  “All right,” Heather said, at last. “But stick close to me and not a toe out of line. Or a claw.”

  Dave hopped to his furry paws and tugged on the end of his leash.

  Heather hurried up beside the young girl, and her heart pounded against the inside of her chest. They turned the corner, and the cloying scent of smoke hung thick around them.

  Dave snuffled, and Lilly lifted him into her arms.

  Ambulances and cars lined the far end of the road. A massive fire truck had parked close to the scene.

  “Oh wow. It’s only six buildings away from the store,” Amy said.

  Heather pressed her palms to her stomach and moved closer. She stopped just short of the police line and stared at the blaze. The remains of an office building glared right back. Pops and cracks rang out.

  The whoosh of water from the end of the hose and the cries of the firefighters.

  Heather bit her bottom lip, and then worried it with her teeth.

  “Au-Heather? Are you okay?” Lilly asked.

  Heather put up a smile and dropped into a crouch beside the girl. “I’m just fine, Lils. I don’t like the look of this, is all. It doesn’t feel right.”

  “Heather?” Ryan appeared on the other side of the yellow line.

  “Uh, oh,” Amy muttered. “Heather’s sleuthin’ senses are always right.”

  Heather patted Lilly on the back, then strode forward to meet her husband. “What is it?” She glanced back at Lils, but she was safe with Dave and Amy, further back from the heat, smoke, and yells.

  “We’ve got a situation here,” Ryan said. “That kind of situation, if you know what I mean.”

  “A murder?” Heather asked.

  “Suspected murder,” Ryan replied, under his breath. “We’ve just pulled someone out of the flames and let’s just say –”

  “No need,” she replied and waved a hand. She didn’t need the details. “You need me to investigate on this one?”

  “Is that even a question?” Ryan asked. He shook his head and looked back at the blaze. “I’ve got to get back to work, but I get the feeling this case is going to be a pain in the neck.”

  “Let me know when you’ve got the evidence to discuss this,” Heather replied.

  Ryan bobbed his head once. “I’ll call you when I’m done here, my love.” His gaze traveled to Lilly and Amy. “Stay safe.”

  “Don’t worry,” Heather replied. “We will.”

  She turned and clapped her hands once. “All right, ladies, shows over. Let’s get back to my place and start baking those berry donuts.”

  Chapter 2

  Heather adjusted her handbag on the seat beside her and
sighed. The atmosphere in Dos Chicos hummed with excitement. People ate their tacos or enchiladas with mole and laughed.

  Ugh, she didn’t feel a tiny bit happy.

  The excitement for a hard-earned week long vacation from Donut Delights had disappeared at the sight of the burning office building the day before.

  “Sorry, I’m late,” Ryan said and crammed himself into the seat opposite hers. “Still trying to catch up with everything after what happened yesterday.” He reached out and squeezed her hand.

  “I understand, love. Just because my career is on hold doesn’t mean I expect yours to be,” Heather replied. She lifted his hand and kissed the back of it, lightly. “I ordered some nachos for the table.”

  “You’re a star,” Ryan said, then sat back and rested his head. “Boy, what a day.”

  Heather took a sip of her soda, then rolled the fizzy goodness around her mouth. She swallowed and smacked her lips. “You wanna tell me about it?”

  Ryan reached for his glass, lifted it, and then drank deeply. He put it down again and stared at her. “Yeah. I think that would be best. You’re the consultant on this case, too.”

  “I know,” Heather replied, and a frown wrinkled her forehead. That’d been a weird reaction on his part.

  “Sorry, hon, I’m distracted. The guys at the station are determined to give me grief about you and the case.” Ryan drank more soda and shut his eyes for a second. “But it’s all right. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

  Heather wriggled her lips, then let them settle. “Do you have any new information about the case?”

  “That’s part of the reason I’m so distracted. It’s a strange scenario we’re dealing with here. Definitely a case of arson and murder.”

  “How do you know?” She asked.

  “Because we spoke to the local fire department and they say that the fire started outside the victim’s office door,” Ryan replied. “Gasoline.”

  Heather tapped her nails on the tabletop. “Who was the victim?” She asked.

  “Guy by the name of Paul Jackson. Everybody called him Quick Paul, though. You might’ve heard of him.”

  “Oh, I’m sure Sharon Janis mentioned him between one or twenty times,” Heather replied. “But I kinda tune the gossip out.”

  Ryan chuckled then stopped himself. “Quick Paul had quite the reputation in the business world. Pyramid schemes, a few investment scandals, that kind of thing.”

  “I think I heard about something like that,” Heather replied, and cast her mind back to one of Sharon’s rants. “Uh, it’s escaping me now, but it sounds like this guy might’ve had a few enemies in the business realm.”

  “That’s a possibility,” Ryan replied, then cleared his throat. “Now, down to the details.”

  “Oh boy,” Heather said and pushed her soda to one side. “Do I need to hear these?”

  “Yeah, you do.” Ryan brushed his knuckles across the back of her forearm and smiled. “It’s nothing that will disturb you. Just bare facts about the case.”

  “All right. Fire away,” Heather replied, then grimaced at the poor choice of words.

  “Quick Paul was drugged before the fire started,” Ryan replied. “He wasn’t tied to anything but had passed out on the floor from what we can tell. He died of smoke inhalation.”

  Heather pressed her lips together. “And the tox report?”

  “We expedited the process, this time around. Valium,” Ryan said. “Lots and lots of valium. Too much for a person who wanted to relieve stress.”

  The waitress arrived and smiled at them. She placed a plate of steaming hot nachos in the center of the table, and Ryan’s eyes lit up like the 4th of July.

  He grabbed a chip, loaded with salsa and guacamole, and delivered it into his mouth.

  Heather didn’t help herself. Something didn’t add up, already. “Wait, what if Quick Paul took the valium himself. This could’ve been a suicide.”

  “Uh, I dunno about that. You think he’d go to all that trouble? He’d set fire to the building, then take valium?” Ryan shook his head. “No suicide note. No, sign that he was in grave financial trouble. Nothing that could’ve stressed him out to that point.”

  “I guess,” Heather said. Though who were they to say what could stress a guy out or not? “Did he have any family members nearby? Friends?”

  “Nope. Just a long list of business associates. But we need to narrow that way down before we can think about following any leads.” Ryan crunched another chip between his teeth.

  Heather finally ate some of the Mexican goodness, and the zing of flavors spread through her mouth and enlivened her mood. “All right,” she said. “Here’s what I’m thinking. Whoever drugged Quick Paul had to be someone he knew and trusted, otherwise there would’ve been some sign of a struggle.”

  “Right.”

  “So, we need to find out who he had meetings or appointments with, first. Not that it was one of his associates, necessarily, but it’s a good start,” Heather said. Good thing she had a week to spare before the bakery opened up again.

  Ryan grunted and took a sip of his soda to wash down the food.

  “We should probably head out to the crime scene, sometime soon. Or at least to Quick Paul’s house.”

  “Oh yeah, we’ve already cordoned that off. The sooner we get this done, the better,” Ryan replied, then waved his soda through the air. “The Mayor is up in arms about the arson.”

  “I bet,” Heather replied. Hillside was supposed to be the quiet, peaceful Texan town that everybody loved to visit. The rash of murders and crime had certainly marred its image.

  “We’ll meet up there tomorrow. How’s 9 am?”

  “I’ll be there,” Heather replied, and flashed her hubby a confident grin. A while ago, she’d doubted her investigating prowess, but not anymore.

  She was on the case, and Quick Paul Jackson’s murderer would be in prison before he could say, “Raspberry Mojito Donut.”

  Chapter 3

  Quick Paul’s home was on the third floor of a dingy apartment building in the center of town.

  Heather traipsed up the carpeted stairs, Ryan hot on her heels. The railing on the staircase peered at Heather through the gloom, but she didn’t touch it. The place reeked of stale smoke and another unsavory scent – Amy would’ve had a field day identifying it.

  “Any other evidence so far?” Heather asked.

  “Nothing,” Ryan replied, and pointed to the left on the landing. “This is our priority.”

  Heather opened her mouth to reply, then slammed it shut again.

  Officer Hoskins stood at the end of the hall, his bulk framed by an open doorway, and a grim smile twisted his features. “Guess who’s back, boys?” He yelled over his shoulder.

  Nobody answered him.

  “Hoskins,” Heather replied, and bobbed her head once. She hadn’t brought donuts to this investigation either.

  He eyed her up and down. “Here to make your womanly mark again?” Hoskins asked and folded his arms.

  “Move out of our way,” Ryan replied.

  Hoskins’ gaze flitted from Heather’s face to her husband’s. His expression didn’t change a whit. “You and your wife like making your mark on –”

  “Kindly stop saying that,” Heather replied. “We’re not animals, and this is not your territory. Now, please move out of the way.”

  “You think that –”

  Ryan clapped his hands and Hoskins jumped. “I will report you to the captain for interfering with this investigation. You’re already on your last warning, Hoskins. Don’t make this any worse for yourself,” Officer Shepherd said.

  She could only think of him like that when he was in ‘professional mode.’

  Hoskins opened his mouth, then slammed it shut. His double chin wobbled from the force of the movement. He hesitated, then stepped back from the doorway and disappeared into Quick Paul’s apartment.

  “Are we going to have to deal with that every time I come to do an
investigation?” Heather asked.

  “Probably,” Ryan replied. “Old Hoskins isn’t one for change. Especially, not when it comes from a woman.”

  “Well, that makes me like him even more,” Heather said, and her voice dripped sarcasm.

  She stepped over the threshold of Quick Paul’s home and into… a trash compactor. Seriously, the place was a festival of litter. Heather touched the tip of her nose. “That is, oh boy, that’s just some kinda stench.”

  “Yeah. Quick on the deal, old Paul, but not so quick with the washing up.”

  “Or the air freshener.” Heather waved her hand in front of her nose.

  Trash bags and papers littered the beige carpet – it might’ve been white once – in Quick Paul’s apartment. The kitchen led directly into the living room, and an open door beyond that showed off a view of an equally dirty bedroom.

  “My sleuthin’ senses are telling me to check his bedroom, but my physical cues are telling me ‘run for your life’.” Heather scratched her forehead. “Is it mean to assume that there might be some dreaded disease lurking in there?”

  “That’s not mean,” Ryan mumbled, and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “That’s just good sense.”

  Heather squared her shoulders. “I’m going in.”

  She picked a path through the piles of trash and shuffled past the coffee table. She reached the bedroom door, then sucked in a deep breath. She dove into the darkened interior and fumbled for the light switch.

  “Ugh,” Heather whispered, then clicked it on.

  Bright light flooded the bedroom and Heather blinked in a haze of shock. The bedroom was pretty clean.

  The sheets were tussled, but Quick Paul’s pale carpet was trash bag-free.

  “Miracles do happen,” Heather muttered. She hurried to the dresser in the corner and paused. A daily planner lay on top of it, its leather cover worn at the corners.

  Heather picked it up and flipped it open, then rifled through to the month of September. “Here we go,” she muttered and tapped the page. She traced the dates and pressed her lips together.

  “What did you find?” Ryan asked, behind her.

  Heather jumped and grappled with the book. She swallowed and turned to her husband. “That you could scare the jelly out of a donut.” Heather’s eyes widened. Raspberry jelly in a donut.