by Beck,Jessica
“Sure. Why not? Just promise me one thing,” I said in all seriousness.
“What’s that?” Barton asked, sensing the somber tone of my mood.
“Don’t start serving homemade donuts at the cafeteria while you’re here,” I said. “I wouldn’t be happy if you took my recipes and used them against me.”
“I would never do that, Suzanne. You have my chef’s oath,” he said, laying his hand on his heart. “I promise that I won’t do anything to violate the trust you’ve placed in me.”
True to his word, Barton stayed in the kitchen as I dropped the batter rounds into the fryer, and I was happy that he was uninjured in the process. After I glazed a few of the bright Kool-Aid donuts, I offered him one on a plate.
He took in the aroma then tried a tentative bite. The smile that bloomed on his face was enough to make an old donutmaker feel as though she weren’t wasting her life making treats for other people. “Do you really like it that much?”
“So much so that I’m going to steal it, with your permission. I’m thinking about using this as a base for one of my cakes, though I’ll have to fiddle with it, of course, to get the portions just so.”
“For that, you have my blessing,” I said with a laugh.
Barton finished the last bite, and after he reluctantly declined when I offered him another, he asked, “Okay, now we’ve done the pumpkin donuts and the Kool-Aid ones, too. What’s next? I heard that your orange-glaze cake donut is wonderful. Do you happen to have the ingredients for that batter on hand, or am I being too demanding? If I’m pushing you too much, just say the word and I’ll tone it down a bit.”
“You’re just fine,” I said. I’d been planning on doing some orange-zest cake donuts sometime during the week, so fortunately I had all of the supplies I needed in my kitchen already. “Let’s get started,” I suggested as I pulled out my recipe book and began gathering ingredients. Many of my cake donuts started out with the same basic recipe, and each variation was merely a case of additions, but it certainly wasn’t true across the board.
We’d finished making most of the more exotic cake donuts I offered my customers at Donut Hearts when Emma came through the kitchen door. “Suzanne, are you okay? I could swear that I heard voices…” she said, her words trailing off when she spotted the fact that I wasn’t alone.
“Emma Blake, this is Barton…” I stopped and looked at him. “I just realized something. I don’t know your last name.”
“It’s Gleason,” he said as he held out his hand to Emma. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma. According to Suzanne, you’re someone worth getting to know, something I don’t doubt for a single second.”
Emma actually blushed as he took her hand, but she quickly found her poise again. “Don’t believe everything you hear. Suzanne has a tendency to exaggerate.”
“If anything, I undersold you,” I said with a grin. “Why don’t you two go out front and get acquainted? I’ve got to get the yeast dough together.”
I could tell that Barton was torn between his thirst for knowledge and his desire to get to know my assistant, so I made the decision for him. “Barton, I’ve truly enjoyed having you in the kitchen with me, but I need to focus, if you don’t mind.” It was one of the bigger lies I’d ever told in my life, but he seemed to buy it. I could mix the dough for my yeast donuts in my sleep; it was the cake ones that offered so many variations. “Emma, there’s coffee ready out front. Why don’t you treat our guest to some?”
“Sure thing,” she said. “This way,” Emma told him as she pointed to the door.
Once he was through, Emma shot me a curious but definitely intrigued look. I just grinned, shrugged, and then shooed her away.
Maybe, if things worked out, Barton would find a reason to stay after all, but if he didn’t, it wouldn’t be from my lack of trying. I wasn’t sure that Jake would approve of my matchmaking, but I was happy being in love, so why shouldn’t the rest of the world be able to experience it as well? Emma wasn’t the world’s best judge of good boyfriend material, so maybe she needed a little nudge in the right direction, just as her friend Jennifer had.
In my defense, I hadn’t planned on anything happening between them, but once Barton had mentioned her to me, the wheels hadn’t been able to stop turning.
I’d done all that I could, though.
Now it was up to the two of them.
Chapter 20
I stayed in the kitchen as long as I could, but I knew that if I didn’t go out front soon, I’d miss my break outside, and that was something I cherished more than young love, especially this time of year. October was hands down my favorite month, with chilly temperatures, moons so big they almost looked surreal, hot chocolate, and pumpkin donuts—pumpkin donuts most of all. There was something about the flavor that I adored more and more every year, and I was constantly trying to incorporate it into my autumn offerings.
I frowned for a moment when I realized that the front was empty when I walked out, and then I saw Emma sitting by herself at our outside table where we usually took our breaks year-round, no matter what the weather might be.
“What happened to Barton?” I asked as I joined her, pulling my coat close to me.
“He had to go get some sleep before his shift starts,” Emma said. “That was really smooth, Suzanne. Are you trying to fix us up?”
“I resent that remark,” I said with a smile.
“Resemble it, you meant to say. There, I fixed it for you,” she added with a grin of her own.
“He wanted to see me make Kool-Aid donuts,” I said. “That led to pumpkin, and then to orange zest.”
“You showed him our greatest hits? You really must like him.”
“What can I say? He strikes me as a good guy, Emma, and there aren’t enough of them around to suit my taste.”
“I get it,” she said. “It’s just that he’s leaving town, so there’s not much of a future for us, is there?” The last bit she added a little wistfully, and I knew that she longed for a relationship with someone she could count on. She’d dated more than her share of duds over the years, but I had to give her credit; she always thought the next one would be different.
“I’m sorry you two won’t be able to go out,” I said.
“I didn’t say that,” Emma replied as she looked at me and smiled. “As a matter of fact, we’re going out on a date tonight.”
“That’s great,” I said, trying to contain my enthusiasm. If Barton gave Emma any kind of chance, I had a hunch that he might just find the reason he’d been looking for to stay in April Springs.
“Now, enough about my love life,” she said. “It was sweet of you to come by the hospital last night to see Dad.”
“I’m just sorry that I couldn’t help. How’s he feeling?”
“Cranky and ready to leave the hospital, which I take as an excellent sign.” She frowned a moment before adding, “I just wish he could remember the parts that he’s still missing.”
“It’s eating him up, isn’t it?”
“Suzanne, he’s afraid that he might have had something to do with Tom’s fall,” she confessed to me.
“Why would he think that? It’s not as though he and Tom had an argument about anything before it happened.”
Emma looked as though she wanted to cry. “That’s the thing. He’s starting to remember bits and pieces, and one of them is him confronting Tom about his past and his shady present.”
“Where did this happen?” I asked, trying to hide my yearning to know.
“It’s foggy, but he thinks it was outside. Whether it was at Laurel Falls or not, he can’t say. Suzanne, I know you aren’t my dad’s biggest fan, but on his worst day he’d never kill someone. I refuse to believe it’s even a possibility.”
I understood why she felt that way, but I imagined there
were a great many killers out there whose children weren’t able to accept the facts. “I understand,” I said.
“Do you honestly believe that he could have done it?” she asked pitifully.
“Certainly not on purpose,” I answered carefully. “Accidents do happen, though.”
“Like Tom falling off the edge taking a picture of himself,” she said. “Chief Grant came by after you and Jake left and told us why he believes it was an accident. Dad was a little guarded when he heard the news, but Mom believes it vindicates him completely.”
“Why shouldn’t she?”
“You still think it was intentional, don’t you?”
I had to be careful how I answered her, but my assistant deserved the truth. “George still isn’t convinced, so I’m going to keep digging until he tells me otherwise.”
“Why is the mayor so involved?”
“They were friends,” I said simply, not wanting to get into their past relationship. There was no reason to dredge it all up with Emma.
“It’s an odd pairing, isn’t it? Dad has some kind of compulsion to believe the worst of our mayor. Did you know about that?”
“We were in his office, remember? Before you get too upset with me, he gave us his blessing. What we found seemed a little far from reality.” It was the nicest way I could think of to tell her that I thought her father was crazy.
She seemed to take it in stride. “Dad does that sometimes. He likes to think up these outrageous scenarios, and then he tries to prove or disprove them. He says it’s what separates him from other newspapermen.”
I didn’t doubt it, but not for the reasons he believed it proved. “Okay.”
“I don’t believe the mayor did it any more than I think my father had anything to do with what happened to Tom Thorndike. Who does that leave, though?”
“Are you asking me as a friend or your father’s daughter?” We’d butted heads in the past over times that Emma had crossed the line, and I wanted to make sure it never happened again if I could help it.
“You’re right. Sorry. Forget I even asked,” she said good-naturedly as my timer went off. “Time to make the donuts,” she said as she stood.
I joined her and gave her a quick hug. “I’m glad your dad is doing better.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
The rest of the prep work went smoothly, and I was glad to have Emma back in the kitchen with me. I’d missed her the day before, and I decided to tell her just that. “I’ve got to say, it’s a lot nicer here with you than without you,” I said with a smile.
“I hate that I dumped all of those dishes on you,” she said.
“It was okay. Momma came by and helped out.”
“You’re kidding, right?” she asked in amazement.
“No, I’m not. Why does that strike you as odd?”
“I don’t know. Your mother is such a prominent woman in town, I have trouble imagining her up to her elbows in sudsy water.”
“She’s a lot more down to earth than you might imagine.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Emma said as she continued washing.
“It’s time to open our doors to the public,” I told her three minutes before six. “Are we set out front?”
“The display cases are full, the coffee and cocoa are finished, the chairs are down, and the cash register is loaded, so as far as I’m concerned, we’re ready,” Emma said with a smile.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Daryl Lane an hour after we opened. “I know you aren’t interested in buying the donut shop. It’s about Tom Thorndike, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said calmly. “I came by for a fritter.”
“Sorry, but we’re all out,” I said.
He pointed to the case behind me. “Really? I can see five of them right there.”
“They’ve already been sold. I’m holding them for another customer,” I lied.
“He can manage with four.”
I could see the darkness in him when he said it. “Fine.” I grabbed a fritter and shoved it into a bag. I quoted him the price, and he shoved a five-dollar bill toward me. After handing him his change, I smiled my brightest, most insincere smile and then said, “Have a nice day,” in a way that said, “Go away and never come back.”
“Oh, I will,” he said, and then he took his fritter to a table, removed it from the bag, and started eating it right there in my shop. I slipped into the kitchen for a second as I pulled out my cell phone.
“He’s here,” I said as soon as the police chief answered.
“I’ll be there in five minutes. Can you stall him without putting yourself in danger?”
“I think so, but hurry.”
Emma looked at me oddly, but I just shook my head and went back out front. Pouring a cup of coffee, I also grabbed another fritter and headed to Daryl’s table. As I put them both down in front of him, I said, “I want to apologize for before. I’m having a bad day, but that didn’t give me any right to take it out on you. These are on the house.”
“I thought these were for someone else,” he said, ignoring my offering.
“I can always make more.”
“Okay,” he said, and when I continued to stand there, he looked up at me and said, “You can leave now.”
I turned and went back to the front counter, trying my best to hold in my temper. I had never been dismissed like that in my own shop, and it didn’t sit well with me, but I was doing this for the police chief, so I decided that I could swallow a little pride in the process and just let it go.
It was just too bad that my ploy didn’t work.
He dropped the fritter he’d bought onto the bag, took one bite of the one I’d given him, ignored the coffee completely, and then left the entire mess on the table for me to clean up.
In a moment he was heading for the door, and I needed to delay him if I could.
“Was there something wrong with the fritters?” I asked him.
“They were bland, dry, and overcooked,” he said. That got the attention of several of my customers, who seemed to collectively hold their breaths waiting for my explosion.
They weren’t going to get it, at least today.
“I’m so very sorry for the inconvenience,” I said. “I’d be happy to give you something else, or would you rather have a full refund?”
“Forget it,” he said as he headed out the door.
I had tried my best to stop him, but since that hadn’t worked, I needed to see where he was going so I could tell the chief where to start looking.
I followed him outside, and Daryl Lane took three steps away from the donut shop before he whirled around and faced me. “Is there something I can do for you, Suzanne?”
“I just wanted to get a little fresh air,” I said, uncomfortable with his proximity.
“Get it somewhere else,” he growled. As he started to storm off, I took my last shot at delaying him.
“Why are you so interested in Tom Thorndike, anyway?”
Daryl stopped dead in his tracks, pivoted, and got within an inch of my face. “Mind your own business, lady.”
“Hey, you came into my shop, remember?”
“Yeah, that was a mistake, wasn’t it? If you have something to say to me, then say it. Otherwise, you need to steer clear of me. Do you understand?” He’d said it with an icy quality to his voice that chilled me to my core.
“Or else?” I asked, trying to show him that I wasn’t afraid of him, which would have been quite an accomplishment, since at the moment, I was terrified.
“Or else you’ll live to regret it,” he said. “Do we understand each other?”
“Loud and clear,” I said with relief as the chief pulled up in his squad
car, followed closely by another cruiser. He had brought reinforcements, and I didn’t blame him a bit.
“Daryl Lane?” Chief Grant asked as he got out of his car.
Instead of answering, the stranger stared hard at me for a few seconds, and then he said, “You set me up.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. My voice didn’t shake nearly as much as it should have.
“You’re going to be sorry you did that,” he said as Chief Grant tapped him on the shoulder. “What can I do for you, Sheriff?” he asked, his tone shifting to a nicer level than I’d ever heard from him.
“It’s Chief,” Stephen Grant said. “I’d like to have a word with you.”
“About?”
“About an hour, if everything goes smoothly, but that’s entirely up to you. Why don’t you get in my car and I’ll give you a ride to the station?”
It was clear Daryl had taken that particular ride before. “No, thanks.”
“I’m sorry. Were you under the impression that you had an option?” There was steel in the chief’s voice, and I saw that the man was growing into his job quite nicely after all.
“Fine,” Daryl replied. As he got into the front of the car, he stopped to look back at me. “I’ll see you soon, Suzanne.” There was more of a threat than a promise in his voice, and I found myself troubled by this man’s attention. This was a focus I didn’t want on me, and I had no trouble imagining him pushing Tom Thorndike off the edge of the falls.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I told him, never breaking eye contact. I’d been nervous before. Now I was just plain angry.
The ex-con seemed surprised by the resolve in my voice, and he looked away before I did.
I was still staring at him as the chief drove off, and I saw Daryl glance back at me once before they turned off Springs Road toward the station. I’d have to be a little more careful until this thing was resolved, but I wasn’t about to let one man stop me from doing what I’d set out to do.