by Jessica Beck
“You know, I just realized something. I’ve never had the chance to ask you about your travels,” I said as she settled in.
“Ask away,” Sharon said, no doubt prepared to recount various trips she’d taken over the years. That wasn’t what I was the most curious about, though.
“What drives you to do it?” I asked.
She paused so long that I was afraid that I might have offended her, but after a few long moments, she said, “That’s odd. No one’s ever asked me that before.”
“I’m sorry. If it’s none of my business, feel free to ignore me.”
“No, I’m happy to answer it. When I was a little girl, my dad used to travel for business. He was away from home a lot, but when he came back, he always regaled me with stories of his adventures on the road.”
“He must have gone to some pretty magical places,” I said.
“I suppose some people might think of the broken-down old towns he visited as magical,” she said. “The truth is, they were just a series of decaying old cities from the Rust Belt that most folks were fighting to escape from. But wow, you should have heard his stories! I now know that he went out of his way to make his trips seem special to me to make up for his continued absences, but I found myself wishing for the experiences he shared with me. I’d beg him to take me along on his next adventure, and he always promised me that someday he would.”
“Did you ever go with him?” I asked softly.
“Sadly, no. He died before we ever had the chance, and I swore to myself that someday, I’d take those travels myself. I’ve been to London, Paris, Dublin, Madrid, and Prague, but I’ve yet to find a place quite as magical as my father found on the road, not that I don’t love every minute of it. Being out of my comfort zone touring the world is what I was meant to do.”
“Ray doesn’t share your love of travel though, does he?” I knew it took an act of congress to get the newspaper editor out of town for an hour, let alone take an extended trip with his wife.
“No, he’s a homebody. I used to resent it, but when I discovered an old friend from high school who was in the same boat as me, we started traveling together, and we’ve been having a blast doing it ever since.” She lowered her voice, though no one was within half a mile of us as she added, “Don’t tell anybody I said this, but I’m not even sure I’d let Ray come along with me now if he begged me! We have our April Springs time together, but when I’m traveling, it’s an entirely different world out there for me.” Sharon paused and then looked at me guiltily. “I love my husband. Please understand that. But I’ve grown to enjoy the interludes when we’re apart. It makes me appreciate him that much more when I’m back home. Do you feel the same way about Jake? He’s out of town again, isn’t he?”
“He’s on family business,” I said, not wanting to give her any more explanation than that. “But you have to remember, we haven’t been married all that long.”
“I understand,” she said. Sharon’s tone became serious as she asked, “What do you make of the murder?”
“It’s too soon to tell,” I said, my standard response when asked that question.
“I’m not asking you to name your suspects,” she said. “But do you think there’s a chance Barton did it?” There was an air of desperation in her voice that I wanted to ease, but I couldn’t do it, at least not in good conscience.
“Right now, I’m not ruling anyone out,” I said as bluntly as I could.
“Not even me?” she asked, half joking.
All I would do was shrug in response.
“Suzanne, surely you don’t think anyone in my family is capable of murder!”
It was time to change the subject. “Emma and I have a policy of not discussing my investigations,” I said, not coldly but not exactly warmly, either. “Maybe we should do the same.”
After a moment, Sharon stood as she said stiffly, “Understood.”
As she started back inside, I touched her arm lightly. “Hey. It’s nothing personal.”
“I disagree. It’s absolutely personal.”
Sharon walked back inside, and I stared at my timer. I had another three minutes to go until the dough needed my attention again, and I was in no hurry to rush back in. I’d offended Sharon, and I felt badly about it, but what was worse was that I couldn’t do anything to ease the tension between us. I could probably have just agreed with her that I didn’t think anyone in the Blake clan could have committed the murder, but I couldn’t lie like that. Better that she be angry with me than for me to have to deal with what I considered a betrayal of the truth. I knew that it was a fine line I danced, but I just couldn’t bring myself to cross it completely. I’d been straightforward with Emma, and I certainly owed her mother nothing less.
The timer went off much too quickly, and with some reluctance, I made my way back inside. Sharon and I exchanged nods, but I worked on my dough in silence, and she raced through the dishes as though she had somewhere more pressing that she had to be. Things went on like that for nearly an hour when I realized she was staring at me.
When I turned to face her, she said softly, “I’m sorry about before. Can you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” I said.
To my surprise, Sharon reached her arms out and hugged me. I hugged her back, and after a few moments, she pulled away. “Are we good, Suzanne?”
“As good as we can be,” I said.
“Then can I have another taste of that lemonade cake donut?”
Her reaction the first time had told me everything that I’d needed to know. “You don’t have to do it for me,” I said with a smile. “I know how tart they are.”
“I want to, though,” she said.
“Suit yourself.” I gestured. “Heck, I’ll even join you.” I cut another donut, thinking that maybe I’d gotten one earlier that had all of the juice concentrated in it.
I hadn’t.
If anything, this one was even more potent than the one we’d tasted before.
“It’ll certainly wake you up, won’t it?” Sharon asked with laughter.
It was exactly what we both needed. The tension was broken, and the rest of our time working in the kitchen went perfectly.
Then the first customer of the day walked in shortly after I opened the front door promptly at six, and I wondered just how smart I’d been to come in and make donuts after all.
Chapter 6
“Hey, Chief,” I said as the police chief for April Springs came into the shop. “What can I get you?”
“Some time with Jake would be nice,” the chief said with a shrug. “But I know he’s out of town. Are you mad at me, too?”
“What do you mean, too? Did you make somebody unhappy with you already? The sun’s barely up.”
“What can I say? I guess it’s just a gift. Grace was not very happy with me for pulling Barton in last night, and she wasn’t shy about telling me all about it.”
“I get it. What choice did you have?” I asked him calmly.
Clearly he was surprised by my show of sympathy, but I’d meant it. He was in a jam with this murder. I was certain that he’d talked to Emma as well. In my opinion, it was better to get the first round of interviews over with. In the past when I’d been suspected of murder, part of the dread I’d felt was waiting for that initial tap on my shoulder. At least Barton, Emma, and anyone else the chief had spoken with knew where they stood.
“Thanks. I appreciate that,” he said, clearly relieved to see that I wasn’t in a combative mood, too.
“You’re most welcome. Before you ask me for my alibi, let me volunteer it. I was in plain view of two dozen people until I entered the donut shop, but I suppose it’s possible that I stabbed Simon first, and then I called you. It would be a cold-blooded act doing it that way, though, and the crime was anything but premeditate
d, from the look of it. Still, knowing that you might jump to that conclusion yourself, I could have planned it to look like a spur-of-the-moment act, using the impulsive nature of the crime as a smokescreen for my wickedly calculated homicide.”
Chief Grant shook his head in disbelief. “Wow, that was quite a speech. How long have you been planning your confession?”
“It wasn’t a confession. I was merely stating the obvious. I found the body. Of course I should be on your list of suspects.”
“Did you have a motive to kill that young man?” the chief asked. I had to wonder how much older he was than the murder victim, but I knew without a doubt that the job of our police chief had aged him since he’d taken the helm.
“No, I’d never met him until last night. I happened to see him pat Emma’s rear though, as I already told you, but it didn’t fill me with so much outrage that I thought he needed to die, however badly he needed a lesson in civility and good manners. I thought Emma’s slap was a step in the right direction, though Grace felt it didn’t go far enough.”
“Trust me, I’ve already heard her opinion on the matter. If it helps, I don’t suspect you of murder. You had the opportunity and means, but unless I learn something new in my investigation, you had no real motive.”
“It’s good to hear that you feel that way, Chief,” I said. “Have you managed to come up with any new suspects yourself? I mean besides Barton, Emma, Ray, and Sharon Blake.”
“Don’t you get started on me, too, Suzanne,” Chief Grant said wearily.
“I wasn’t castigating you, I was simply asking you a question,” I said.
“There are a few folks on my list,” he admitted.
When he didn’t reveal their exact names, I provided the ones I’d learned. After all, in many ways, we were on the same team. We both wanted to catch Simon Reed’s killer, no matter what our motives might be. “Grace and I spoke with Sherry West last night.”
“She’s quite a handful, isn’t she?” the chief asked. “I’m not sure if she struts that temper of hers around because she’s really like that, or she feels she owes it to redheads everywhere. Either way, I wouldn’t cross her.”
“Which Simon evidently did with some frequency,” I said. “When we spoke to her though, she was more than happy to point her finger at a few other folks in Simon’s life.”
“For instance?” the chief asked as he pretended to study my donut offerings for the day. The lemonade donuts hadn’t made the cut, at least not in their current state. I’d have to tweak that particular recipe quite a bit if I was going to offer it to my customers, but I had plenty of cherry ones to fill the gap.
“As soon as I shut the donut shop down for the day, we’re planning on speaking with Clint Harpold, his roommate,” I said.
“That’s where I’m headed this morning, so at least I’ll get to him first.” He glanced toward the kitchen and asked softly, “Is Emma upset with me?”
“I couldn’t say. She didn’t come into work today,” I said.
“Suzanne, you said it yourself. I was just doing my job. Are you handling things here all on your own?”
“No, her mother is subbing for her,” I explained.
“That’s even worse,” he said with a frown.
“How is that worse?”
“Emma yelled at me when I interviewed her, but Sharon acted as though she were disappointed in me more than anything else. I’ve known that woman for years, and I’ve always been fond of her. You should have seen the way she looked at me.”
“Like you stole her dog?” I suggested.
“Yeah, that about sums it up. Did you happen to get any more names from Sherry? I heard you were lingering near the exit line last night.”
“Which one of our troops informed on me?” I asked him. It might be nice to know if it was Darby or Rick I had to watch my step around.
The police chief ignored the question, and I really couldn’t blame him. After all, I protected my sources whenever I could, too. How much more of an obligation must he have felt with his own people? The chief might have been younger than me, but he was certainly serious about his job. After a moment, he looked at me and asked, “Was there anyone else?”
“Not yet, but the day is young,” I said. “Is there anyone on your list I’ve missed?”
He looked around and confirmed that the donut shop was empty. “Has the name Shalimar Davis come up in conversation?”
“Rats,” I said.
“Where?” the chief asked, looking around the room.
“You know I don’t mean that literally. Sherry mentioned her, too, but I forgot all about her. I’m so sorry. I swear I wasn’t intentionally holding out on you.”
“It’s fine,” Chief Grant said, taking it better than I would have if I were in his position. “Once you meet her, you won’t ever be able to forget her again. The young lady is memorable. Yes, I suppose that’s as good a way to describe her as any. I’m curious to see what you and Grace make of her, so be sure and let me know.”
“Have you had any luck with the physical evidence?” I asked him, knowing full well that I was pushing my luck by even asking him the question. Still, if a girl didn’t even try every now and then, where would she be?
“No. The handle of the knife had been wiped clean, and the only prints in back were yours, Emma’s, Sharon’s, and Jake’s.”
“You actually had our prints on file to compare them to?” I asked. I wasn’t sure why I was all that surprised by the information, but that didn’t mean that I had to like it, either.
“Jake’s are in the system because of his career. The rest of yours have turned up in investigations in the past.”
“Even Sharon’s?” I asked.
“Do I really have to remind you that this wasn’t the first murder that’s happened here?” he asked me gently.
Too many bad memories came flashing back, and whether it was healthy or not, I did my best to suppress them. After all, what good would it do for me to dwell on such a tumultuous past? I’d rather focus on the good things that had happened at Donut Hearts over the years. “No, we’re good. I’m really sorry about that slip. I wish I could say that it won’t happen again, but I can’t promise you anything.”
“Even if you did, I wouldn’t hold you to it,” he said with a weary smile. After another glance at the display case, he pulled out his wallet and said, “I’d love two of those cherry-filled donuts and a coffee, to go. Strike that, I’ve been drinking the stuff all night. Do you happen to have any chocolate milk?”
“I do,” I said, trying not to show my amusement that our police chief ordered like a twelve-year-old boy.
After I took his money and made his change, I said, “You know that you’re entitled to a free treat every now and then, right?”
“Thanks, but I’ll keep paying,” he replied.
“I figured as much, but I still thought I’d at least offer.”
“It’s much appreciated,” he said, and then, with his treats secured in one hand, he left the shop.
Sharon came out almost immediately afterward.
“Is he gone?” she asked as she peered out the front window.
“Yes. Why, did you want to talk to him? I’m sure I can still catch him if I hurry,” I said as I headed for the door.
She gripped my arm tightly. “No! Don’t do that!”
“Okay,” I said, freeing myself. “I won’t. Why are you so jumpy?”
“I thought he was coming here to arrest me,” Sharon said, the fear alive in her gaze.
“Why would he do that? You didn’t kill Simon Reed, did you?” I asked her.
“What? No! Of course not!”
“Then why would he arrest you for the man’s murder?”
“I don’t know. People get arrested a
ll of the time for things they didn’t do,” she explained.
“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about our chief,” I said. “I can’t imagine him charging anyone without having a ton of evidence against them first. Take a deep breath, okay?”
She nodded and did as I’d suggested literally.
“Did that help?” I asked her.
“It kind of did.” As she looked around the room, she asked, “Don’t we have any customers?”
“None at the moment, but it’s still early. I should push my opening back to seven just to teach them a lesson. If I did that, I could sleep in until four a.m. every day.”
“Could you do that, though?” she asked me.
“It’s my shop. That’s the beauty of it. I can do whatever I want.”
“I know that. I’m just asking if you could actually force yourself to sleep in? I know I couldn’t. Getting up early is a hard habit to break, isn’t it?”
“Tell me about it. If you ever figure out how to do it, be sure to let me know.”
As I said it, three men in full hiking regalia covered in dirt and grime came into the donut shop. We were nowhere near the Appalachian Trail, but they looked as though they could have just stepped off it. “Gentlemen, excuse me for saying so, but you look as though you’ve all been ridden hard and put up wet.”
They loved the comment, and I let out a small sigh. Sometimes my humor and my word choices got me into trouble, but I’d read their smiles as them being delighted to be there, and they hadn’t disappointed me.
The older one of the group explained, “We’ve been hiking for three days, and let me say, your sign was a wondrous image to behold.” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “If you could bottle that, you’d make a fortune.”
“The thought has crossed my mind before,” I said with a smile. “What can I get you gentlemen?”
“Has anyone ever come in and ordered one of each donut on the menu?” one of the men asked.