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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.
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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 1
Heather handed Amy the box of Rhubarb Frosted donuts, then fumbled around in her purse for her cellphone.
“He’s late,” Amy remarked, then sighed and checked her watch. It had silver accents with hearts at the tips of the hands – a gift from Kent.
“I know, I know, but he’s been really busy with work lately,” Heather replied. She checked her messages. Nope, nothing from Ryan. “Looks like we’ll have to meet him at the restaurant.”
This was their first proper double date with Kent and Amy, and Heather had hoped that her husband would be free. But duty called at the Hillside police station.
“That’s all right. And thanks for these by the way,” Amy said and lifted the box of donuts. “Kent’s been snacking consistently on Donuts Delights products since he got to Hillside.”
They walked up the stairs to Kent’s front door, and Amy rapped her knuckles on the hardwood. “Honey, it’s me,” Amy called out.
Heather made an immature kissy face just to tease her.
Amy tapped her on the arm and rolled her eyes. She knocked again, but still no answer.
The dusky purple of early evening had settled around their shoulders. The weather was balmy instead of sweltering, and both women had opted for strappy, summery dresses and open sandals.
Amy knocked again, and then sighed. “Maybe he’s in the shower or on the phone or something. Here,” she said, then whipped out her keys, “I can let us in.”
“Wow. Things have certainly moved along since I last saw you two together at the wedding.”
Amy’s grin split her face into an expression of pure joy. “That’s right. I’m telling you. He’s the one for me. Don’t tell him that, though. I’m trying to play hard to get.”
“And donuts are included in your scheme?”
“Shush you,” Amy replied, and tapped her on the arm again.
Heather’s bestie inserted the key into the lock and turned. A click, a turn and one squeaking door later, and they were inside Kent’s new Hillside home.
“Kent?” Amy called out and walked down the wide hall and into the open planning living room and attached kitchen. “Oh there you are,” Amy said. “Pigging out on donuts as per usual I see.”
Heather followed Amy into the kitchen, pausing to admire a painting of Hillside on the living room wall.
She turned to face her friend and his beau, and then frowned.
Kent sat at the small table in the center of the kitchen, his head lolling to one side. A donut sat in front of him, on the bare wood of the table.
“Amy, why is the light off?” Heather whispered.
“Huh?” Amy asked standing beside the fridge. “Oh right.” She leaned over and clicked a switch beside the doorjamb. “Uh, Kent, you wanna say hello to Heather? Or just ignore her for the rest of the night? Because that’s going to be difficult at Dos Chicos.”
Heather stared at Kent. A bucket of ice had dropped into the pit of her stomach and flooded her nervous system.
“Oh no,” she stammered. “Amy.”
Her friend turned to her, frowning, the box of donuts still in one hand. “What?”
“Amy. Kent.”
“That’s right. And you’re Heather. Honestly, what’s freaked you out? You like you’ve seen a –”
Heather crossed the space between them, grabbed Amy by the arm and then spun her on the spot. She gasped.
Kent wasn’t in the middle of a pre-dinner snack, no, he was tied to the chair, unconscious, the donut untouched beneath him.
“Kent!” Amy tried to dart forward.
“Don’t touch him,” Heather ordered. “Look, he’s still breathing.” She pointed to the slow rise and fall of his chest. “And if he’s got a concussion, moving him is the worst we can do.”
“So what do we do? Kent, honey –” Amy grasped a handful of her hair, the Rhubarb Frosted donuts dropped from her grasp, the box smashed to the floor and popped open, sending Heather’s creations rolling across the kitchen tiles.
“Get it together, firstly. It’s going to be okay. You call 911, and I’ll send Ryan a text.” Heather narrowed her eyes at the wall behind Kent. Hearts had been scrawled on it in what looked to be bright red lipstick.
Amy took a step to the hall, but Heather stopped her.
“Stay close,” she said, “the attacker might still be around.” It was unlikely – if they were, they would’ve tried to finish what they’d started with Kent – but it was better to be safe than sorry.
Amy paled, then fumbled her phone out of her pocket and called for help.
Heather shot off a text to her husband, and then circled the table ever so slowly. She stepped around fallen donuts and touched nothing. She bent and peered at Kent’s face.
It was clean of blood and his eyes were closed. He was tied to the chair with fishing line. A note lay beneath the table, facing upwards, displaying another bright red heart.
“Like a calling card,” Heather whispered. She had to remove herself from the creepiness of the situation and observe the facts because now way would she let this case slide.
This was Amy’s man, for heaven’s sake.
A few minutes later – though, it honestly felt like an eternity – the police arrived, along with a handful of medics. Amy fluttered around in the background, asking questions and freaking out.
“I’ll take their statements,” Ryan said, stepping through the front door, with his pad and pen already out.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Heather walked towards her husband but didn’t greet him with a peck on the cheek. It wasn’t the right moment for that.
“What did you see when you came in?” Ryan asked.
Heather described the scene the best she could, then pointed to the donuts Amy had dropped on the floor. “Those weren’t here when we came in; Amy dropped them after we saw Kent.”
Ryan circled the table – Kent had already been transferred to the back of an ambulance – and frowned.
“What about this one here?” He gestured to the donut on the table.
“No, that was here when we came in.”
Ryan’s forehead wrinkled. He looked from the donut on the table to the ones on the ground. “Wait a second; didn’t you create Rhubarb
Frosted donuts yesterday?”
“That’s right. I only started selling them this morning,” Heather replied.
She peered at the donut, and her heart skipped a beat.
Ryan scratched his chin with the end of his pen. “Then how did one of them get to Kent’s house before you two did?”
Chapter 2
Heather sat with her arm around Amy’s shoulder.
They’d ordered cheesy nachos for the table and a couple of margaritas because Amy needed to take the edge off.
“I can’t believe it,” Amy whispered. “Who would want to do this to him?”
“I don’t know,” Heather replied. And that was the honest truth.
Kent had been a star since he’d arrived in Hillside, helping the less fortunate and even taking on a pro bono case for a client.
Dos Chicos was too cheerful for Heather’s liking, but Amy had insisted they go through with their ‘date’ even if it had turned into a girls’ night instead. Her bestie was determined to remain positive about Kent.
“And they really won’t let you stay with him?” Heather asked, stroking Amy’s upper arm.
“No, visiting hours are over. That horrible receptionist at Hillside Regional told me to get lost. Can you believe that? How unprofessional.”
“Shocking,” Heather replied, with a shake of her head. “Listen, Ames, I’m not supposed to investigate cases anymore, you know how it is with Ryan, but –”
Amy turned to face her. “You have to. Please, Heather, I’m begging you. You’re the only one who can get to the bottom of this.”
“Ryan –”
“Ryan’s a police officer,” Amy whispered. “He can’t investigate in the way you can. He can’t sneak around and get to the bottom of it all.”
The waiter arrived with their nachos and a bowl of extra spicy salsa for dipping.
Amy stared at it despondently, then took a sip of her margarita and pulled a face. “Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.”
“Uh huh,” Heather replied. She picked up a nacho, dipped it in the salsa and crunched on it. Her mind was back in Kent’s kitchen. The fact that one of her newest donuts had been on his table didn’t bode well for her or Donut Delights.
If the good folk of Hillside heard about that…
“Heather? Will you do it? Will you look into this for me? Please, I can’t do it on my own, and I don’t want Kent to get hurt again. What if they come after him again?”
Heather wiped her hands on a paper napkin, and then patted the back of Amy’s hand. “You need to relax. Coming here really wasn’t a good idea. Come on, I’m going to take you home.”
Heather stood and summoned the waiter with a wave.
“There you are.” Ryan appeared in the doorway and hurried to their table. “I’ve been trying to get hold of both of you for the past hour.”
Amy looked up, stricken. “What is it? Is it Kent? Is he –?”
“Kent’s fine,” Ryan replied. “I wanted to update you on the case, Amy. Kent had you listed as his next of kin. He didn’t have any other family, not brothers or sisters, heck, not even a distant aunt.”
They shuffled back into their seats.
Ryan grabbed a nacho and gobbled it down, then smacked his lips. “That’s good food.”
“Ryan,” Heather said and jerked her head towards Amy. Her best friend was exhausted and distraught. The sooner he gave his news, the sooner she could get her back to her place for a cup of hot cocoa, a warm bath with Epsom salts, and then a good night’s sleep.
“It appears that Kent was the victim of an assault. We’ve got evidence at the scene which suggests this wasn’t a robbery. Evidence,” Ryan said, lifting a palm to Heather to forestall her question, “which I am not at liberty to disclose.”
“So, what can you disclose? Amy has the right to know why and how this happened.”
Ryan nodded. He reached across the table and grasped Heather’s hand, then brushed his fingers across the back of her knuckles. “You’re right. She does have the right to know. I’ll tell you both what I can, but Heather –”
“You don’t even have to say it by now,” she replied. Her husband could make a record of him telling her to stay out the case.
“Good,” Ryan said.
A trickle of guilt filtered through Heather’s conscience. She did have every intention of looking into this. Just how many more interferences would Ryan accept before it became a problem between them?
Ryan drew in a deep breath. “Kent was hit on the back of the head with a heavy picture frame. It appears to have come from his study. The picture that was inside it is missing, along with the glass front.”
Amy swallowed. “It didn’t have a glass front. It was a paperweight. I gave it to him for our one-month celebration. I don’t know what picture he had inside it, though.”
Heather squeezed her friend’s hand. “What did the donut have to do with it?”
“There’s the catch,” Ryan replied. “The donut was a Rhubarb Frosted donut, which means you can expect a visit from a few officers at Donut Delights tomorrow. They’ll need to look at copies of your receipts to figure out who bought the donuts.”
“And because I’m a suspect too, I take it,” Heather replied. Yawn. She was so used to being the suspect in these cases. She accepted the fact that solving these murders was her destiny.
She was drawn to them, and they were drawn to her because she was meant to help people.
Ryan shrugged. “We have to follow –”
“– every lead.” Amy and Heather said, in unison.
Ryan glanced around the restaurant, the tables packed with happy, enchilada-eaters, forks scraping on plates, and the low background thrum of a guitar. “The donut was poisoned. Remember the Strawberry Crème killer?”
“My old assistant? Of course.”
“This looks like a mimicry of that. But different as well. I can’t go into more detail than that, but it looks like someone’s actively trying to implicate you, Heather. Or Amy for that matter, since she’d have easy access to Donut Delights thanks to her relationship with you.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Amy growled. She started to stand.
Heather tugged her back into her seat. “Of course, it’s preposterous, but we have to trust that Ryan and the police will get to the bottom of this in no time. We’ll help in whatever way we can.”
Ryan grinned at her. “I’m so not buying this, Mrs. Shepherd. I can see your cogs ticking away behind those bright blue eyes of yours.”
Amy chuckled at that.
Heather played it coy and chose to ignore the comment, waving at the waiter for the second time instead. “Let’s wrap this stuff up and eat it back at my place. Dave’s desperate to see you, Ames.”
After all, she had a lot of thinking to do. Make that sleuthing.
Chapter 3
Heather sat across from Eva Schneider at one of the wrought iron tables in her store, Donut Delights. She pushed a Rhubarb Frosted donut around on a plate, then grabbed her coffee and took a sip.
“What’s troubling you, dear?” Eva asked, and picked up her mug of bitter coffee. She sipped some, delicately then placed it back on the table. The old woman had only recently been released from Hillside Regional, but her first stop had been Donut Delights.
“It’s nothing,” Heather murmured.
“You know you can tell me anything, Heather dear. Anything at all.”
“Oh, it’s just a new case,” Heather replied. “Amy’s new beau was knocked out in his own home, and it looks like whoever did it is trying to pin it on her or me.”
Eve licked her wrinkled lips. “Well, I might be biased in this opinion, but I do believe that whoever did this will most definitely be brought to justice, especially with you on the case.”
Heather gave a weak smile. “What I don’t understand is the method of the killing. Obviously, the attacker wanted to murder him with poison, but couldn’t get him to eat the donut.” She shifted the Rhubar
b Frosted on the plate again. “And from what I saw, there was no sign of forced entry, which means that Kent must’ve known the attacker.”
“Goodness, you’re on a roll already. How’s Amy handling it all?”
Heather sighed. “She’s taken time off work and is babysitting Dave for a while. They get on well. Apart from the carpet. She had to tear it up because of the pee stains.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at that.
The front door to Donut Delights swung inward with a tinkle of the bell hanging above it.
“Oh, hello dear, we were just talking about you,” Eva said.
Amy strode to their table and placed her palm flat on it, and she used the other hand to sprinkled bits of paper in the center, between Eva and Heather’s coffees.
“What? Ames? Are you all right?”
“Care to explain why I found this in your trash can?” Amy asked, and stepped back. She folded her arms and stared pointedly at Heather.
“My trash can?” Heather asked.
“Yes, the one in the alley next to Donut Delights.”
“Why were you rummaging around in the trash, Amy?” Heather glanced at Angelica and waved for her to bring an extra chair and a donut to soothe her best friend’s troubles.
“I wasn’t rummaging. Okay, maybe I was. Can you explain to me how your donut ended up at Kent’s apartment? Can you explain that?” Amy shrieked.
Eva’s jaw dropped. Several of the customers at other tables looked around.
“Oh boy,” Heather said. “Amy, I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but I understand that what happened to Kent has hurt you deeply. You need time off. You need to relax. I’ll take you home.”
“As if I’d go anywhere with you!” Amy spat.
Heather’s eyebrows climbed. This wasn’t like her friend at all. This wasn’t the logical problem-solver and donut connoisseur she loved. And where was Dave?
“Calm down,” Heather said. “Sit down, and tell me what’s going on.”
Amy tapped her foot on the wooden boards. “Oh, I’ll tell you what’s going on, all right. You’re after Kent. You can’t stand the fact that I’ve finally found happiness, and you want to ruin it. You want me to be unhappy.”
Rhubarb Frosted Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery Book 10 Page 1