“It’s got to do with the will,” Amy said. “That’s the only explanation for it.”
“Why?” Heather said and grimaced at asking that for the fifth or sixth time. She’d lost count due to frustration.
“Well, Herman drew up the will, and she tasked him with delivering the map and letters at the same time. These are indicative of a woman’s final wishes,” Amy said.
“You’re right, of course. But it doesn’t tell us who the bone belongs to or what story she’s trying to tell. Or how this bone was so important to two people. Maybe more, since Charlie never actually fired a gun and Furrows still wound up dead.”
“Charlie was Althea’s son,” Amy said. “He didn’t have the map, right?”
“No, Furrows had it.”
“Okay, so Julie told us that Charlie was obsessed with the map and with Furrows. And they fought a lot. What if Charlie thought the treasure was more than just a bone and that’s why he followed Furrows,” Amy replied.
Heather paused her Dave-stroking. “Maybe,” she said. “Maybe. But how did Charlie find out about the map? Why did he care? And how did he know it was anything more than a wild goose chase.”
“He had to know it came from his mother.” Amy sat bolt upright and clicked her fingers.
Lilly snorted on the couch and snored on.
“Why do you say that?” Heather asked.
“Because it’s the only way the map’s importance would’ve meant anything to the guy. It’s from his mother. That would make it real to Charlie,” Amy said.
“You’re onto something, but I think we’re just scratching the surface.” Heather grabbed a cushion and scrunched it into her lap to relieve the tension. “You know what I’d really like to do?”
“What?”
“Take a walk down to the river and take a look around. I’m still not entirely convinced that Julie Pole and Ray don’t have something to do with this. There was someone else in that forest. Someone else shot Furrows after he attacked Pole, and there’s got to be a reason for it,” Heather said.
“Good idea. And by the way, I sorted out our little coconut problem.” Amy smirked. “Kate Laverne’s going to have to try harder than that to bring us down. The store manager I spoke to was so friendly. They had just enough coconut and are shipping it tomorrow. It’ll be here by Friday at the latest. Five-hour drive max. It’s not organic, though.”
“Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about that in all the excitement. Ames’ you’re a lifesaver.”
“A Fair saver,” Amy corrected and wiggled her eyebrows. “And don’t mention it. You found a human bone in a box today. I think that –”
Heather’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. The best friend’s shared a glance.
Amy leaned forward, grabbed it, then handed it over.
“It’s Ryan,” Heather said. “What on earth?” She swiped her thumb across the screen, then answered. “Hey, I didn’t expect to hear from you this soon. Did you get the results back already?”
“Not yet. But there’s been a development,” Ryan said.
“Oh? What is it?” Heather’s heart skipped a beat.
“It’s Ray Donnelly.” Ryan paused and let that tension build. “Julie Pole reported him missing half an hour ago.”
Chapter 13
Heather pulled off the road and onto the grass which flowed toward the edge of the forest. The trees, most of them evergreens, watched the Chevrolet, unmoved by a breeze.
“I’m getting used to this now,” Amy said and lifted her leg in the passenger seat. She patted the side of her plain, brown leather boot. “I’m all set for some forest exploration.”
“It’s not the forest we’re interested in,” Heather said and put the car in park. She turned off the engine. “It’s Ray Donnelly’s little hut.”
“You think he’ll hide out here?” Ames asked. She swished the sleeve of her coat back and studied her watch.
They’d organized the delivery of the coconut for tomorrow, but the company had called ahead and said it would be at the store by the afternoon. It was their deadline for getting back and accepting it.
Heather wanted to check there’d been no foul play along the way. She didn’t trust Kate Laverne one bit. The woman had shown she’d do anything to get her way. Much like a spoiled toddler.
“I don’t know,” Heather said, at last. “But there might be some clue as to where he’s gone in that hut. Ryan’s already been through his house. They crashed in last night to search for him since he’s a suspect and is now considered on the run.”
“On the run. A fugitive in the forest,” Amy said in a deep voice and framed a movie title with her hands. “You think he shot them?”
“Not them, just Furrows, and I’m not sure yet. I don’t want to jump to any conclusions this time,” Heather replied. The last case had taught her that.
Heather opened the driver’s side door and swung her boots over the lip of car’s side. She rose, the long grass sweeping against her covered ankles.
“Which way?” Amy asked. “Is it that same, creepy hut that Polinksi used to use?”
“I think so,” Heather said. She shut her car door, then locked the car with a click of a button. She led the way between the trees and down the gentle slope toward the South Bosque River.
Chirps and the flutter of wings accented the peaceful stillness which lived between the bark and leaves. Heather inhaled the scent of moist soil and sighed.
“We should go camping some time,” Amy said. “All of us.”
“Lilly would love that,” Heather replied. “Maybe we could pick some place outside of Hillside. Go on an adventure. Bring all the assistant’s with as a reward for all the hard work.”
They’d worked exceptionally hard. Perhaps, it was time to close down the donut store for a week and take a well-deserved break.
Amy hooked her arm around a trunk and stepped past a rock. “Getting a little steep,” she said.
Someone coughed to her right.
Amy lost her footing and sat down heavily in the mulch. She slipped and scrambled away from the source of the cough.
Heather patted the air and Amy settled.
“Who’s there?” Heather called out. “Show yourself.” She dragged her Taser out of her handbag and clicked off the safety. “I’m armed and no afraid to defend myself.”
“All right, relax,” a man said and stepped out from behind the tree. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Didn’t think I’d run into anyone else out here.” He wore a plaid shirt with a patch on its breast – a company logo: Gurney Lumber mill. A tuft of his thick, brown hair stuck up on the side of his head, just above his right ear.
He pressed it flat and grunted when it popped up again beneath his fingers.
“Who are you?” Heather asked.
“I’m Billy. Who are you?”
“I’m Heather, and this is Amy. We’re investigators. There was a murder in these woods a few days ago,” she said. “You know anything about that?”
Billy’s jaw dropped. His jowls wobbled. “No way,” he said. “I’m just here to study the landscape. My boss told me we have the go ahead.”
“Study the landscape?” Heather asked.
“Yeah, I come out to double check that there aren’t any trees which break the rules. You’ve got to have a permit for this kind of thing,” Billy said and stifled a yawn behind his hand. “Have to wake up early too.”
“Why didn’t Old Man Timber do this?” Heather asked.
“That old coot?” Billy chuckled. “Nobody would trust him to check out the area. He’s blind in one eye. And he can’t hear a thing.”
Heather frowned. That was the opposite of what Timber had told her. She licked her lips and formed thoughts, musings about why he’d have lied. Did he want to hide the real reason he’d been in the forest that early?
If so, what was the real reason?
“She okay? She’s got a really weird look on her face,” Billy said.
Amy grabbed a tree
and pulled herself upright. “Oh yeah, that’s just her epiphany expression. She’ll tell me we’re going somewhere in a moment. Mark my words.”
Heather paced back and forth in the muck, parallel to the slope. Old Man Timber had been in the forest. He’d heard the shots. But what if he’d lied, just like he’d lied about the reason he’d come down here in the first place.
She stopped and speared Ames’ with a gaze. “We’ve got to get back to the store,” she said.
“Told you so.” Amy directed that at the company representative.
Billy pressed his logo flat.
“Why the store?” Ames asked.
“Because I’ve got to speak to Old Man Timber. And for the coconut,” Heather said.
“The coconut?” Billy asked. “What’s the coconut got to do with anything?”
Heather marched off up the slope back toward the car. Ray Donnelly would have to wait. Timber had lied.
“I think the more apt question, Billy, is what doesn’t coconut have to do with anything?” Amy said, behind her. “Have fun in the murder forest.”
Billy snorted.
Amy huffed and puffed up the slope.
Heather trained her thoughts on the new man of the hour.
Chapter 14
Old Man Timber lifted a Donut Delights napkin, wetted it with his tongue, then set to polishing the front of his glass eye. “It in straight?” He asked.
Heather managed a nod. He’d taken an hour to get out to the store and had only come after she’d promised him donuts and coffee.
“Mr. Timber –”
“Old Man,” he corrected and didn’t stop polishing.
“Right, Old Man Timber. I spoke to someone from Gurney Lumber Mill today,” she said.
“Oh yeah?” He dropped the napkin at last, and the iris of his glass eye pointed to the side of his socket.
Heather blinked at it.
“Why you do that? Tryin’ to get me in trouble or somethin’?” Old Man Timber picked up a donut and took a bite. The crumbs scattered across the tabletop.
Heather had already been through his portion of her dossier. Ryan had made sure to test his hands and the plaid shirt he’d worn for gunpowder residue. Nothing at all. But that didn’t exclude him. He might’ve worn gloves and a jacket, and somehow managed to hide them before he’d called the police.
It was plausible, though not likely.
“I know you weren’t sent by your company to survey the landscape,” Heather said, and shifted the ceramic pot of sugar sachets toward herself, so that she had something to do with her hands.
Old Man Timber’s mouth movements stalled. He swallowed. “What?”
“I know. I met Billy in the forest this morning. He was out there to survey the landscape, and he told me that the company wouldn’t send you out to do the same thing. Why did you lie?”
Old Man Timber slowly resumed his chewing. He took his time about it, too. And finally, put down the donut and focused his good eye on Heather. “Cos I’m tired of workin’ for a man who don’t care ‘bout me.”
“What do you mean?”
“My boss. He treats me like dirt. Worse than dirt,” he replied.
“But why did you go out that morning, then? If it wasn’t to survey the trees for Gurney.”
“Cos I wanted to survey the trees for me. I had enough of him. He’s all high and mighty. They treat me like I’m an old coot and I ain’t going to take that anymore.” Old Man Timber set his jaw and nodded once.
“So you want to start your own mill?” Heather asked.
“That’s right. I went out there to check what, uh, section of the forest Gurney’s going to take so that I can mark out my part,” he replied. He lifted the donut again and gobbled the rest of it down, chewing with his mouth open.
Heather was mesmerized by the swish, swish of one of her creations in Timber’s cement mixer.
Could it be another lie? He’d lied once before, and he’d had to have known that it would come out eventually. Heather should’ve checked with Timber’s company before she’d accepted his reason for being in the forest, but she’d been so distracted by the store and the coconut that –
Amy bustled through the kitchen and gave Heather a thumbs up. “Coconut here,” she mouthed. “All good.”
“No sabotage,” Heather whispered, and a weight she hadn’t realized had been on her shoulders, lifted.
“What? Nah, I’m not that type of guy. I don’t want to sabotage ‘em. I just want to get away from ‘em,” Old Man Timber said. “Start my own life.”
“I understand,” Heather said, though she hadn’t meant the sabotage comment for him. “You don’t have anything to add? Perhaps you remembered something else from that morning?”
“Nope,” he said.
“That’s all you’ve got to say on the matter.”
“Yep.”
Heather sighed and sat back. Another dead end. Old Man Timber’s reasoning was perfectly logical. And there was no way she could prove he’d been in the forest for another reason since she couldn’t ask his superiors this time around.
“You need me for anything else?” The man asked, and slurped down some coffee. It spilled onto the front of his plaid shirt. The same company logo Billy had worn was on this one too. “Only, I’ve got to get back to work ‘fore they fire me.”
“Yeah, that will be all,” Heather said. “Thanks for coming all the way down here on a work day.”
“You’re kidding me,” he said. “This was a break from them idiots back at the mill.”
Heather excused herself from the table and walked to the counter, where Eva and Ames were in deep conversation.
“Hello, dear,” Eva said. “Did you have much success?”
“Not really,” Heather said. “His excuse is hardly rock solid.”
Old Man Timber scraped back from the table and trundled toward the exit. Heads turned and tracked his path across the golden boards.
Amy nudged her elbow into Heather’s side. “Good news, though,” she said. “The coconut is here, and it’s all perfect. I checked the packages myself.”
“That’s fantastic news,” Heather said. “We can finally get back on track in spite of Kate Laverne’s best efforts to derail us.”
The kitchen doors swung open again, and Ken rushed toward them, his apron off and a wild glint in his eyes. “Uh, boss?”
“What’s up?” Heather asked. The assistant’s loved calling her boss just to tease her. She’d accepted it because she didn’t have a choice.
“There’s, uh, there’s a man in the dumpster,” he said and frowned at what he’d said.
“What?” Amy and Heather asked, in unison.
Eva laughed as if it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.
“I went out to throw away a few boxes, and yeah, he’s in there. He’s asking for you,” Ken said.
“Is it Geoff?” It seemed like a Geoff Lawless trick – he’d been pretty quiet of late.
“No. I don’t recognize the guy,” Ken replied.
Heather and Amy exchanged a glance, weighted with curiosity. “Shall we?”
Chapter 15
Heather took the two short steps which led from the back door of Donut Delights and out into an alley. Amy stepped on the back of Heather’s shoe in her haste to follow. Ken hovered in the doorway, torn between baking and the intrigue of the situation.
“Do you need help, boss?” Ken asked.
Heather eyed the hairy head which poked out of the open dumpster. “No, I think we’ll be fine. Thank you.”
Ken tipped and invisible hat, then hurried back inside. He clicked the door shut behind him, and the waft of toasting coconut cut off.
Heather’s boots crunched on the dirt and grit in the alley. She halted beside the dumpster. “Well,” she said and met the terrified gaze of a man on the run.
“At least he’s got clothes on,” Amy said.
“Of course I’ve got clothes on,” Ray Donnelly said. “What kind of p
erson do you think I am?”
“I didn’t think you were the kind who hid in dumpsters,” Amy replied. “I stand corrected. What other surprises do you have to reveal, Mr. Donnelly?”
Heather waved her hand in front of her face to dispel the smell of garbage. Donut Delights didn’t produce much perishable trash, but it was still trash in there, apart from Mr. Donnelly, who sat on top of it all, his cotton button down stained from collar to hem.
“Would you like to get out of the dumpster?” Heather asked, and extended a hand, even though she’d have to Purell it for ages afterward.
“No,” Donnelly replied. “I mean, no thank you.”
Amy’s eyebrows did their trademark wriggle dance. “Why not? What’s wrong?”
Ray shifted on his haunches and lifted his eyes above the rim of the dumpster. His gaze darted left and then right. “Because she’ll find me.”
“Who?” Heather asked.
“Julie,” he replied.
“Julie Pole?” Amy’s eyebrows were set to vibrate, now.
“No, Julie from Friends. Of course, Julie Pole. How many Julie’s do you know?”
“Every Julie who eats donuts,” Amy countered.
“Well, maybe you –”
“Children, please,” Heather said and raised her palms to separate the two of them from each other’s glares. She focused on Ray. “Why are you hiding from Julie?”
“Because she’s furious with me,” he replied and sank lower in the trash. The empty boxes creaked, and flour puffed up between his knees. He waved it away from his face. “I’m sure she hates me.”
“Why?” Heather asked. “Start from the beginning.” Suspicion tickled her sleuthin’ gene.
Ray Donnelly lifted his grubby palms and pressed them into his eyes. He flinched them away and grimaced at the grime-streaked on his skin. “It started after you interviewed her,” he said.
“She got nervous?”
“Nervous and angry. She phoned me and told me that I shouldn’t tell you the – tell you that –”
“That you both lied,” Heather finished. “You were having an affair?”
Toasted Coconut Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 36 Page 5