Fatally Frosted

by Jessica Beck

  “No, but this way I’ll have something to snack on as I work.”

  Ordinarily I wouldn’t have accepted his obviously pity-inspired order so willingly, but I really didn’t have much choice. A sale was a sale, and he was getting good donuts for his dollars. Still, after I put twelve donuts in the box, I added a handful of donut holes as well.

  As I took his money, I said, “You never told me what you do for a living, did you?”

  He grinned as he took his change. “No, I sure didn’t.”

  I was about to push it when my mother walked into the shop. She took one look at David and said, “You’re new in town, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

  “Are those donuts for your family?” Momma asked.

  “Actually, I’m single. Have a nice day.”

  “You do the same,” she said.

  After he was gone, my mother said, “Suzanne, if your relationship with Jake founders, you could always go out with a nice man like that. He dresses well, he obviously likes donuts, and from the way he was looking at you when I walked in, I’d say he’s fond of the donut maker as well.”

  “Momma, don’t you torment me enough at home?” I said with a laugh. “Do you honestly have to come down to the shop and do it, too?”

  “I’ve got a life myself, believe it or not. But I’m here to deliver a message. Jake Bishop called the house a few minutes ago.”

  “Why would he do that? He knows I’m working.”

  “Suzanne, perhaps you should check your cell phone for messages.”

  I reached into my pocket, and to my surprise, found that it wasn’t there.

  She held it up, and asked, “Is this what you were looking for? It was at home, sitting on your dresser and laughing like mad at me. I thought you were going to change that ringtone to something more civilized.”

  “I kind of like it,” I said as I took the phone from her. “That explains why he didn’t call me on my cell phone, but why didn’t he try me here at the donut shop?”

  “He didn’t have time to track down the number,” Momma said. “When I picked up your phone, he asked me to tell you why he had to leave so abruptly.”

  “What did he say? What was the emergency?” I asked.

  Momma frowned as she said, “It’s about his niece, Amy. She’s the oldest child of Jake’s sister Sarah, and apparently she’s had a rather bad time of it this morning.”

  “What happened to her? Is she all right?” Jake had often talked about his oldest sister and her kids. Since he had no children of his own, they acted as surrogates for him. Since Sarah’s husband had left shortly after Amy’s brother Paul had been born, Jake had told me she’d been delighted by the male attention for her kids.

  Momma said, “I’m afraid she’s in the hospital.”

  “He must be going out of his mind with worry. What happened to her? Was it a car accident?”

  I remembered Jake’s story of losing his own family, and prayed fervently that this incident wasn’t parallel.

  “No, apparently she has a dangerously high fever, and they rushed her to the emergency room.”

  “That’s terrible. I hope she’s all right.”

  “He said he’d call when he learned more about her condition.”

  “Thanks for coming over to tell me,” I said.

  “It was my pleasure.” She looked at me another few seconds, as if she wanted to add something else, but then obviously thought better of it and walked out of the shop.

  Emma came back out, wiping her hands on a towel. “Wow, sometimes it sucks being you, doesn’t it?”

  “Have I ever had a conversation in this shop that you haven’t eavesdropped on, Emma?”

  She pretended to think about it, then said, “I don’t think so, but I’m trying my best to make sure it never happens.”

  I couldn’t help myself and laughed at her expression. “Why don’t you finish washing up in back, and then you can take off. I doubt we’re going to get many customers in here today.”

  “You’re not just trying to get rid of me, are you?”

  “Emma, if I were, I’d fire you instead of sending you home with pay. Why do you ask me that?”

  “No reason,” she said as she scurried into the back to finish her last duties.

  After ten minutes, she popped back out, this time wearing her jacket and missing an apron.

  “That was fast,” I said, “even by your standards.”

  “What can I say? I was motivated. Have a good day, Suzanne, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “See you then,” I said.

  Once she was gone, I realized that Emma hadn’t pushed me about helping with my investigation surrounding Peg Masterson’s murder. Had she lost her curiosity, or had her father discouraged her from helping me? He was the editor-in-chief of the county’s only newspaper, and I found myself wondering what their conversations at home sounded like when they talked about her work. Emma’s loyalty to me was unflagging, and I knew if I needed anything from her, all I had to do was ask. I was going to try not to, though. While my crew and I were older, I felt—whether rightly or wrongly—that we didn’t have quite so much to lose as Emma did.

  At three minutes before noon, the door chimed, and George walked in. He sat at the counter, ordered a pair of pumpkin donuts, then said, “Peg seems to have left very little tracks of her existence in the world. Aside from the charity fundraising events she’s spearheaded over the years, she didn’t make an awful lot of impact. I have heard she’s got money, more than most folks around April Springs would ever suspect.” He studied me a second, then asked, “What have you been up to?”

  I brought him up to date on what Grace and I had uncovered about the accounting log and the note Grace had found, but I’d forgotten it at home, so I couldn’t show it to him.

  “That’s something, anyway,” he said after taking a bite from one of the donuts. “Where do you think we should go with this investigation now?”

  “I keep wondering about Burt Gentry’s involvement with Peg and Marge. Is there any chance one of your buddies knows about that?”

  “I could ask around,” George said. “Or I could talk to Burt directly. Knowing him, he’s liable to crow about his conquests.”

  “Burt?” I asked. “That doesn’t sound like him at all.”

  “Believe me, I’ll take him out for a drink after work, and he won’t be able to keep it to himself. He’s always fancied himself quite the ladies’ man, and I’ve sat through enough of his stories in the past to prove it.”

  I looked at him and asked, “Are we talking about the same sweet old man from the hardware store?”

  George laughed. “Suzanne, some men don’t like to kiss and tell, but I haven’t met many of them in my life. I’m willing to bet if I guide him a little and get a drink or two into him, I can get him to open up.”

  “It’s worth a try,” I said.

  “As a matter of fact, I think I’ll go take a run at him right now.”

  After he was gone, Grace came by as I was just getting ready to lock the place up. I had eight dozen donuts to take to the church, since the day had ended up being even slower than I suspected.

  She took one look at me and asked, “You’re not taking those all home with you, are you?”

  “I don’t know, I might feel a little peckish later.”

  She smiled. “At least let me have a dozen.”

  I handed her the box on the top. “Take it. The rest are going to the church.”

  “I can’t do that,” she said. “Besides, I was only kidding. What are you going to do after you drop them off?”

  “I’m coming straight back here,” I said. “If you’re up for it, we have something pretty challenging to do.”

  That got her excited. “What do you have in mind? Are we going to slip into police headquarters and eavesdrop on the chief?”

  “No, it’s much more dangerous than that,” I said as I flipped off the lights.

  “
Don’t keep me in suspense, Suzanne.”

  I took a deep breath, then said, “We’re going to talk to Gabby next door and grill her for information.”

  Grace frowned. “To tell you the truth, I’d rather go spy on the chief.”

  “So would I, but this will do us more good. Gabby’s hiding something, and we need to know what it is. Right now, I feel like we’re stumbling around in the dark bumping into walls. If enduring Gabby for an hour is what it takes to set us back on the right course, then we’ll just have to get through it.”

  “An hour? Really? That’s just cruel.”

  I nodded. “At least there will be two of us.”

  After stowing the donuts in the back of my Jeep, I dead-bolted the door behind us. Grace said, “I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I told you that there was somewhere else I had to be.”

  “Not a chance,” I said as I locked my arm firmly in hers. “If I’m going in there, I’m taking you with me.”

  After our quick donut delivery, we were parked back in front of my shop. Father Pete had been happy to get our offering, something I hadn’t been sure of, given my earlier reception from his secretary. Upon querying him about her, it turned out that she was taking a day off, and I made a mental note to schedule my drop-offs on the same day she’d be gone.

  Soon enough, though, it was time to brace Gabby in her shop and see what we could find out about her relationship with Peg.

  SUZANNE’S FUNNEL CAKES

  This recipe is reminiscent of the county fair, and makes for a quick, light snack that always leaves the kids begging for more. We don’t use our portable fryer for these, because the batter gets stuck in the wire cage before it can fry. Instead, we opt for a big pot of oil on the stove where this isn’t a problem. The family especially likes it when I use a large plastic funnel to add the batter directly into the hot oil!

  INGREDIENTS

  • 2½ cups all purpose flour

  • 2 eggs

  • 1¼ cups 2% milk

  • cup granulated sugar

  • 1 teaspoon baking powder

  • ¼ teaspoon salt

  • Powdered sugar for topping

  • Canola oil at 360 degrees F

  DIRECTIONS

  In a bowl, beat the eggs lightly, then add the milk and sugar, mixing it all together thoroughly.

  In a separate bowl, sift together 1½ cups of the flour, baking powder, and salt.

  Gradually add the dry mix to the wet and combine it all to get a smooth, batter consistency.

  Next, add the mix to a large funnel (with an opening about ½ inch), putting your finger over the opening as you do. Carefully drop a string of the batter into the oil, but be cautious here, since the oil is extremely hot, and the addition of the batter can cause it to spatter. You can add it as a swirl, long lines, or any pattern you like.

  Check and turn when gold on one side, then remove onto paper towels to shed excess oil. Add a dash of powdered sugar, cocoa, or jam, and eat it while it’s still warm.

  Yield: Makes 3–6 funnel cakes

  CHAPTER 9

  “Ladies, I don’t appreciate you coming into my shop so that you can gang up on me. I’m not some defenseless little lamb. I’m fully aware of what you’re trying to do.”

  It hadn’t taken Gabby long to figure out that we were there to question her, and not shop in her store. Once she realized why we were there, the courteous shopkeeper was replaced by the indignant interview subject.

  “Gabby, we keep telling you, we’re here for your help, not to accuse you of anything,” Grace said. My friend, normally deft when it came to dealing with people, had somehow managed to raise Gabby Williams’s ire from the very start, and the more she spoke, the more defiant Gabby became.

  “Forgive me if I don’t believe either one of you,” Gabby said harshly.

  It was time to step in and see if I could make things any better. Chances were good that I couldn’t make them any worse, which gave me a certain freedom to try a different approach, namely, the truth.

  I held up my hands. “Okay, fine. I admit it. You’ve got us. We need to know some things that have been going on around town, and you’re the only one who can help us.”

  Grace’s cell phone rang, and after she glanced at the number, she said, “Excuse me. I’ve got to take this.”

  After she stepped outside, I told Gabby, “That wasn’t fair of us to gang up on you like that,” I said simply. “I apologize.”

  She looked at me skeptically. “Why should I believe that you’re being sincere?”

  “Why shouldn’t you?” I countered, trying my best to convince her of my sincerity. “I’m putting all my cards on the table. Will you help me?”

  I watched her struggle with how to respond to my plea, and even when her mouth opened to speak, I still wasn’t sure how she’d react.

  Finally, she smiled. “I must say, I do appreciate your honesty. I’ll help you if I can. What is it you want to know?”

  Pay dirt. “Tell me about Peg, Janice, and Marge. I’d like anything you know about Burt Gentry, and how they all may be interconnected.”

  “You’re not asking much, are you?”

  I laughed. “I know I’m being pushy, but you’re the best shot I have at clearing my name. You’ve got to know how important my reputation is to me.”

  She nodded. “I understand.” Gabby thought about it for a minute, then she added, “Janice is the vice chairperson of the kitchen tour. Were you aware of that?”

  “No, I had no idea,” I confessed, wondering what that had to do with anything.

  Gabby went on. “Peg often had someone take the second chair on paper, but it was always strictly an honorary position.” She studied me for a moment, then asked, “Don’t you find that odd?”

  “I don’t know. Should I?” Where was this going? I had no choice but to play along and see where she was headed, but I had to admit, I was baffled by this new line of information.

  “Suzanne, most honorary positions are at the head of the committee, while underlings do all of the work. Peg was just the opposite, zealously guarding her charitable functions like they involved state secrets. She withheld all the responsibilities from everyone, demanding that she do all of the work herself.”

  “I still don’t understand,” I said, sounding like the dullest knife in the drawer, but not knowing what I could do about it.

  “It was almost as if she were hiding something,” Gabby said, watching me closely to see if I was finally getting it.

  “Ah,” I replied, still not sure of what she meant. What could Peg have been hiding?

  “Naturally, Janice has been concerned about the situation, so she came to me the morning the tour was to begin. She thought I could help her, since I’d dealt with Peg before myself.”

  Gabby sniffed again. “I told you Janice was quite rude about it.”

  “You also said someone else was mean to you that day, remember?”

  Gabby frowned. “I’m not about to forget.”

  It was time to push her a little harder and see what she’d tell me. “It was Peg, wasn’t it?”

  Gabby looked at me as though I’d slapped her. “What makes you say that?”

  “It makes sense, that’s all.”

  “Our last words were an argument,” she said, regret thick in her voice.

  “On the day of the murder, you mean,” I said.

  She couldn’t bring herself to speak as she nodded in agreement. After a moment, she said, “I told her we needed to talk, but she called me a bad name, and then hung up. That’s when you approached me.”

  She looked at her hands a few moments, then added quietly, “I decided to have a word with Peg again myself, to see if I could clear the air a little. I wanted to give her the opportunity to explain herself before anyone else was involved.”

  “Are you saying she was doing something she shouldn’t have been doing?” I was starting to see where she was going with this now.

  “That’s
exactly what I’m saying.”

  “When did you two speak again?” I asked, barely able to contain myself.

  “Just before she left for Marge’s house,” Gabby admitted.

  “Do the police know about this? Have you spoken to them?” I couldn’t believe Gabby had held back any information, not even considering how important this might be.

  “I wasn’t sure how it would look,” she admitted. “We shared some harsh words, and I know how Chief Martin can be when he finds a suspect he likes.”

  I touched her hand lightly. “What exactly did you talk about?”

  Gabby frowned. “She was angry, accused me of butting into her business. She threatened me, if you must know. I didn’t understand her overreaction; it was completely over the top in response to the simple questions I was asking.”

  “Gabby, you’ve got to tell the police.”

  She looked at me as though I were insane. “I can’t. I just told you, if I do that, it’s going to make me look guilty.”

  I wasn’t about to let it go, though. “Just think how bad it’s going to look if you don’t come forward on your own, and someone else tells Chief Martin first.”

  She pulled back from me. “Suzanne Hart, is that a threat?” There was an icy stillness in her eyes that made me shiver.

  “No, you’ve misunderstood me. I would never tell him without your permission. I won’t violate your trust. But someone else might have seen you two talking. Do you really want the chief coming after you?”

  “I suppose not,” she said reluctantly. “You’re probably right. Every time the door opens here or the telephone rings, I think it’s going to be the police. I haven’t slept a wink since the day of the murder.”

  “Gabby, would you like me to be here when you talk to Chief Martin?”

  Her look of horror was easy enough to read. “Why on earth would I want that? I’m a grown woman. I can speak with him myself.”

  I looked at my watch, then said, “Why don’t you call a lawyer to be beside you, then?”

  “I don’t need an attorney. I’m not the one who did something wrong.” She hesitated, then added, “You are right about one thing, Suzanne. It’s best to resolve this, and to do it quickly. I’ll call Chief Martin right after you leave.”