Dying for a Donut (Laurel McKay Mysteries Book 5)

by Cindy Sample

  “Laurel McKay,” I said, reaching over to shake her hand. “I’m on the Apple Gala committee. I understand you’re catering it.”

  “Oh, right. Adriana mentioned your name to me. We have everything under control so you don’t need to worry. Would you care to see our menu for that night?”

  “Yes, thanks.” I didn’t want to mention that I’d fretted about her trying to force feed a BBQ-loving rural community into dining from a vegan buffet. She motioned for me to join my family while she printed a copy of the menu.

  The coconut scone was delicious enough for me to consider going vegan. Their coffee tasted rich and smooth, some type of Fair Trade beans they blended themselves. I had to admire the couple for taking the initiative to open a restaurant that promoted good health as well as fair wages.

  Serenity joined us at our table. She handed me a copy of the menu and stood there waiting while I perused it. The menu featured a variety of dishes, some vegetarian, some not, but overall something for everyone. I breathed a sigh of relief and passed it back to her.

  “Does it meet with your approval?” she asked, her eyes twinkling and her lips curved in a half-smile.

  “Completely. Your food will be the hit of the party. It looks so good you may be stuck catering this affair for years to come.”

  She laughed. “That is very sweet of you to say. Our restaurant and catering business are brand new to this community, so I certainly hope we’re successful. We were anxious to prove to Axel we could handle an event of this size.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said. Mother and Gran joined the condolence chorus and invited her to sit with us.

  “It’s been tough on Paul.” Serenity slid into a chair. “He’s six years younger than Axel and idolized him growing up. We’ve only been married a few months, so I didn’t get to know Axel very well. Or Dorie yet, either,” she added. “They were busy with the orchard operation plus building their new house. And Paul and I have been working nonstop to get the Lifestyle Center up and running.”

  “I’m sure Axel and Dorie were helpful in supporting your new endeavor,” Mother commented.

  A flash of anger briefly marred Serenity’s classic features. “Families can be complicated. They don’t always see eye to eye on things.”

  Gran snorted. “Hah. You got that right.”

  Mother glowered at Gran before continuing. “Such a difficult time for you and your husband.”

  Serenity nodded, her fingers pulling apart the paper napkin in her lap. “We’re just trying to hold it together.”

  “Your brother-in-law was so well respected in this town,” I said, hoping to prompt some inside information from Serenity. “It’s hard to believe someone would murder him in such a bizarre fashion.”

  “I’ve always said sugar can kill, but I certainly didn’t imagine that scenario.” Serenity stared at me. “Wait a minute. You’re the one who found Axel, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. “It was awful.”

  “Did you notice anything unusual while you were there?” Serenity asked, her eyes wide and curious.

  “Like what?”

  “Oh, just wondering if the killer left any clues. Maybe it was some type of cult killing or something.”

  “Nothing other than poor Axel buried under several inches of powdered sugar. I wish I’d been more observant at the time because the detectives don’t seem to be getting very far with this case.”

  “That’s why we’re on the trail of the killer.” Gran zeroed in on the bakery display cases. “We might need more replenishment, though, before we set out on our investigation.”

  Serenity’s eyes grew so large they resembled giant green marbles. “You’re trying to track down the murderer? By yourself?”

  “Laurel here is gonna help, and so is my granddaughter. She’s working undercover inside the Apple Tree bakery looking for clues.”

  “Jenna is not part of this agency,” I said to Gran before turning to Serenity. “I mean, there is no agency.”

  “I certainly won’t feel comfortable until the murderer is found,” Serenity exclaimed. “Paul is worried someone might have an axe to grind against all the family members.”

  “Any particular reason why he feels that way?” I asked.

  She took another napkin from the container and began shredding it. I hoped they got a discount on their paper products. My favorite stress buster is mangling paperclips, but I try to economize by reusing the same one.

  “Paul thought Axel might have gotten involved in something he shouldn’t have.”

  I leaned closer ready for the scoop, but the door opened and several couples entered the store. Serenity stood and said, “I’d better go help my assistant.”

  “What about Axel? What did he get involved in?” I asked, not ready to let her off the hook she’d just dangled in front of me.

  “Does it really matter now that he’s gone?” She shrugged and disappeared behind the counter.

  Heck, yes!

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The three of us finished our morning snack then stood on the sidewalk discussing how to spend the rest of the day. Gran wanted to don her deerstalker hat and track down suspects.

  There was only one problem with that suggestion––we didn't really have any.

  “What do you mean we don’t have no suspects?” Gran thrust her fists on her skinny jeans-clad hips.

  “What we have is a lot of ‘what about’ and ‘what if’ scenarios, all based on secondhand gossip,” I said.

  “That’s good enough for me,” she replied. Gran began ticking off names on one liver-spotted digit after another. “There’s Paul Thorson. He and Serenity started this new business that probably required a bunch of money up front. Didn’t Dorie say the brothers owned Apple Tree Farm together? Who gets Axel’s share now that he’s gone? Dorie or Paul?”

  “Good point,” My mother seemed surprised by Gran’s analysis. “That should be the first item we research. What about the widow? Any reason Dorie would kill her husband? The spouse is always a suspect.”

  “She is such a nice woman.” I sighed. “I can’t imagine her killing Axel.”

  “Wives can be driven to murder and usually for a good reason,” she muttered to herself.

  I chuckled at Mother’s comment, obviously directed at her husband’s new undertaking.

  “Okay, we need to check out Dorie’s alibi,” I said. “Anyone have any idea how we do that?”

  “Will Detective Reynolds share information with you?” Mother asked me.

  I snorted. It was unlikely Ali Reynolds wanted to share anything with me other than possibly my boyfriend. But that would be over MY dead body. “I doubt if she’ll tell me anything. Tom mentioned that Axel was killed around midnight, so Dorie could easily have snuck out of the house without Eric hearing her.”

  “Or, vice versa.” Mother and I both grimaced at the horrible thought that Eric could have killed his father.

  “Okay, that’s three,” said my efficient elderly partner. “Who else we got?”

  “I need to talk to Brent, the farm manager,” I said. “Nina mentioned that he and Axel argued a few days before the murder. Plus there was that mysterious sticky note Jenna and Tony found in the cider house. Maybe Axel caught Brent embezzling money.”

  “He sounds like a possible suspect. But is that it?” Mother sounded disappointed by the brevity of our “persons of interest.”

  Gran pointed in the direction of the one-hundred-year-old, stately white courthouse. “What about her?”

  Mother and I wheeled around to search the sidewalk. I shaded my eyes and squinted. I finally recognized Gran’s target far ahead of us.

  “It’s Vanna, from Weather Vainery. Great catch, eagle eyes,” I said to my grandmother. “She needs to be on our list.”

  “Hurry up and catch her.” Gran motioned at me. “Your mom and I will be right behind you.”

  I started to protest then realized she was right. Plus I had a coconut scone to bu
rn off. I could have doubled as a Forty Niner halfback as I zipped down the sidewalk, evading tourists to the right and left, trying not to lose sight of the stocky woman hauling a shiny green object that was almost as big as she was.

  As I drew nearer, I slowed to catch my breath. One of these days, I needed to get back to Zumba class. Best exercise ever for building up stamina and burning off calories.

  And lately I was low on stamina and high on calories.

  Vanna stopped for a minute and rested the heavy item against the window of an antiques store. By the time she lifted it up again, I’d reached her side.

  “Can I help you with that?” I offered.

  She set what looked like a unicorn-shaped weather vane back down and frowned. “Do I know you?” she asked.

  “We’ve met at Apple Tree Farm in the past. I’ve always admired your craftsmanship.” Which was true. I just couldn’t see paying hundreds of dollars for something no one could see except the occasional hawk flying over my roof trolling for dinner.

  At my mention of the farm, her face darkened. “That place. I’m not surprised someone tried to sweeten Axel up. Ungrateful man.” She grabbed on to her weathervane and shuffled down the sidewalk. I wasn’t letting her go, not with that kind of lead-in to my inquiries.

  “You don’t sound surprised about Axel’s murder,” I said. Elated was more like it.

  She halted, practically stabbing a passerby with the unicorn’s horn. “The man kicked me out of my stall last week. For no reason at all. Shoot, I’ve operated my business in that same spot for longer than he ran the farm. No good son of a...” I cut her off before she could elaborate any further.

  “Do you have any idea who would want Axel dead?” Besides you, I felt like adding.

  She scrunched her snout-like nose. “Who did you say you were again? Are you a detective?”

  “Yep, we’re detecting this here case,” said a raspy voice behind me. The rest of the agency had arrived.

  “Oh, hi, Virginia,” Vanna said to Gran. “How did you get involved in Axel’s murder?”

  “Nina Perez, his bakery manager, hired us to prove her grandson didn’t kill Axel.”

  Vanna looked confused for a few seconds before she burst into laughter.

  “Ha, ha, you made my day,” Vanna said, wiping her eyes. “What’s the name of your agency? Senior Snoopers?”

  Gran looked miffed but merely replied, “Why don’t you make our day and give us some clues.” She looked Vanna up and down. “Did you do him in?”

  Vanna stared at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Yes, she is,” I quickly reassured her. “Always making with a joke. Right, Gran.” I nudged my grandmother so hard she fell against my mother.

  “What she meant to say,” Mother gently intervened, “is that being the perspicacious person you are, perhaps you’ve pondered over some potential suspects.”

  I wasn’t perspicacious enough to follow Mother’s alliterative query, but Vanna stopped glowering at us.

  “You know, I have thought about it,” Vanna admitted. “Axel wasn’t all bad. But he seemed real stressed lately. Always looking for ways to make more money. Axel said I wasn’t bringing in enough to suit him.”

  “But you’re so talented,” gushed Mother, proving why she excelled as the number one real estate agent in her office. She could suck up with the best of them.

  Vanna smiled so wide she displayed enough gold fillings to make a bracelet. “Thank you. I pride myself on my expertise, although I fear weather vanes aren’t quite the hot commodity they used to be.”

  Such as back in the Revolutionary War?

  “Okay, let’s get back on track here,” Gran interrupted. “So, Vanna, you got any suspects for us or not?”

  Vanna shot Gran a frustrated look. “I don’t know if this will help, but I complained to my loan processor about losing my concession at Apple Tree, worried about its impact on me refinancing my home loan. She mentioned that Axel had applied for a loan himself. A big one.”

  “At Hangtown Bank?” I asked, surprised I hadn’t heard anything from Stan, my spy in the loan department.

  “No, I’m getting my mortgage with Sierra Mountain Lenders, over on Placerville Drive. My loan officer is Amy Dunnett, in case you want to talk to her.”

  “That is extremely helpful of you,” Mother said. “And if your refinance doesn’t work out, I’d be delighted to list your property for you.”

  Ka-ching! Mother was never one to let a potential client slip through her elegant fingers.

  “Um, sure,” Vanna replied. “Glad I could help. Okay, gotta run now.” She patted the shiny brass tip of the unicorn’s horn. “This big fella is going to his new home at Golden Star Gallery. Where the owners appreciate my artistry.”

  We said goodbye and good luck then headed for the parking lot.

  “I wonder how big of a loan Axel applied for and if he got it,” I mused. “He must have struggled to keep the business going.”

  “It certainly sounds like he was experiencing money issues,” Mother agreed.

  “It’s not that complicated,” Gran scoffed. “What goes out needs to be less than what’s coming in. Plain and simple.” Spoken like the bookkeeper she used to be.

  “Too bad he didn’t have you on his team,” I said to Gran. “You might have saved him from his financial issues.”

  She nodded. “Yep, but it’s never too late to have TWO GALS DETECTIVE AGENCY on your side. In fact, I just came up with a slogan for us.”

  “Slogan?” Mother and I simultaneously cringed.

  “Don’t waste your dime. Have us solve your crime.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  We drove back to Gran’s house energized by the prospect of multiple missions. Mother would attempt to learn more about Axel’s financial state. With an Outlook contact list that could rival the Kardashian family’s network, she should be able to discover more about his current state of affairs prior to his demise.

  Gran used to play bridge with Axel’s mother but hadn’t seen her in ages. She would pay a condolence call on Carolyn Thorson and chat her up. Gran felt bad she hadn’t kept in touch so she could kill two birds with one visit. Carolyn might have personal insight into Axel and Dorie’s marital life and some knowledge of what was going on behind the scenes at Apple Tree Farm.

  Since I planned to pick up Jenna from her afternoon shift, I was assigned the task of speaking with Brent, the farm manager. I also wanted to locate the cosmetics Liz had left with Axel. My friend would be devastated if someone accidentally tossed out thousands of dollars of her products.

  The minute Mother parked the car on Gran’s driveway, we jumped out, three generations of women who all needed to pee.

  What a family legacy.

  Mother’s cell rang, and she waved us ahead while she answered it. Her initial perky greeting quickly reversed into a series of abrupt staccato responses. It didn’t take a detective to detect trouble brewing on the home front.

  Gran and I went in separate directions. Once we took care of business we met up in the kitchen. Mother joined us a few minutes later. Based on her demeanor, her call had not ended in a satisfactory manner.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “My husband,” she emphasized his spousal status, “called to inform me he is packing a suitcase and driving up to Reno to assist your boyfriend.”

  “Is that all?”

  “All?” she screeched. “Do you have any idea how risky this operation is? Robert is going undercover.”

  Gran sat down at the kitchen table and scratched her knobby chin. “That’s like hiding an elephant in a parrot cage.”

  I stifled a chuckle at Gran’s analogy, but she was right. My six-foot-five stepfather didn’t blend in anywhere except maybe a Big and Tall store. “I’m sure Tom won’t use Robert in any capacity that would be too dangerous,” I said, attempting to soothe my mother. “You can’t blame your husband for wanting to help. He spent his entire life as a public serva
nt, trying to make this community a better place.”

  “As do I when I try to find the perfect house for someone.”

  “I’m sure all your clients are appreciative of your real estate acumen. Just like the citizens of El Dorado County are grateful to Robert and Tom for keeping this area as crime-free as possible.”

  Mother sniffed but remained silent.

  “He’ll be fine.” Gran patted Mother’s hand with her own. “They’d need a tank to take down your husband.”

  Mother had to chuckle at that remark, and we joined in. She left a few minutes later saying she needed to kiss her husband goodbye before he set off on his mission to save the world from evil, one criminal at a time.

  Gran called Carolyn Thorson and arranged to visit her in an hour. I glanced at my watch. Nearly two. More than enough time for a little detecting. Nina had assured me Brent would be working today. It would help to learn why Axel threatened to find another manager.

  I hopped in my car, drove past Gold Bug Mine and turned on to Highway 50. Lines of cars claimed both lanes, but they maintained the speed limit, so it only took a few minutes longer than usual to arrive at Apple Tree Farm. Today the parking gods smiled on me. A truck pulled out of a space in front of the bakery just as I drove up.

  I entered the bakery building. Jenna stood at the pastry counter handing a pile of bills and change to a customer. Close to fifteen people waited in Jenna’s line, as well as the line of a new counter clerk I recognized as Rose Margolis. Rose and I had attended high school together. I decided to greet both of them later when the line of customers subsided.

  I wandered over to the cider mill hoping to locate Brent, but instead found Eric. Only one person waited so I stood behind him. After he paid for his gallon jug, I moved up to the counter.

  “Hi, Eric,” I said to the young man. “How are you doing?”

  “Oh, hi, Ms. McKay. Okay, I guess. Just trying to help my mom keep the farm going.”

  “Well, I’d love to buy a half gallon of your delicious cider.” I grabbed my wallet while he pulled the apple cider from their oversized refrigerator. “I also need to talk to Brent about something. Do you know where I can find him?”