Chocolate Crunch Murder

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Chocolate Crunch Murder Page 2

by Gillard, Susan


  “No, never Jung. Never. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Heather knew Jung. She’d worked with him for ages, now. The man had helped build her business from the ground up, for heaven’s sake.

  “Look, I shouldn’t even be telling you this, love. I just know you’d find out on your own. Which leads me to my next point,” Ryan said, pausing to pat Dave on the back this time.

  “You don’t want me to investigate. I get it.”

  “I wasn’t going to say that. Let’s just say. I know you’re going to try to investigate, and I know you’ll probably have a lot of information for me, as a result.”

  “Right?” Heather drew out the word. What did Ryan mean?

  “I don’t want to know that you’re investigating. But if you happen to hear a rumor and want to discuss it with me, I won’t say no.” Her husband reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

  “Discreet?” Heather asked.

  “That’s a good way to put it.” Ryan’s jaw creaked with another yawn. “I only say this because Jung’s involved and I’m leading this case again. I know you’re not going to let this lie.”

  Heather shrugged and turned her attention back to the blue waters on their TV screen.

  “You know me too well,” she replied.

  Jung was innocent. And Heather would help prove that before the case closed. Where to start, though?

  The police would be all over her assistant tomorrow, interviewing and doing what they did best. Which left her with one option. And the perfect excuse to get out of her morning gym session with Amy.

  “Perfect,” Heather muttered.

  Ryan didn’t comment. She glanced back at him and chuckled. His head rested against the sofa cushion, tilted ever so slightly to one side, eyes closed.

  Like it or not, Detective Shepherd wouldn’t see the end of this case without sufficient help from his wife.

  Chapter 4

  Heather hovered beneath the branches of a White Ash and glared at Randy’s Burger Bar across the road. Yellow police tape ran around the exterior of the building, but the cops were absent.

  Ryan had leads to investigate, no doubt. Perhaps the forensics team hadn’t done their job yet.

  Heather readjusted her grip on Dave’s leash and bit her bottom lip. “Here we are, Dave, old buddy, old pal.”

  He looked back at her as if to say, “Who are you calling ‘old?'”

  “Are you ready to investigate?” Heather asked, she stepped off the grass and onto the sidewalk, then paused.

  A bright green van rattled down the road, then came to a stop in front of the restaurant’s glass front.

  Dave barked once.

  Heather frowned and smiled at the same time, emotions flickering between confusion and mirth.

  The giant metal bug perched on top of the van wiggled, antennae pointing in opposite directions. Bold lettering spelled out a name along the side:

  Bob’s Bug Debunkers

  “This,” Heather said, “should be interesting.” She looked up and down the road, no more cars in evidence, then hurried across it and came to a halt in front of the van.

  Dave kept a relaxed pace, though he whined a bit along the way. How very Dave of him to moan about a light jog. Then again, Heather couldn’t comment – she’d skipped out on Amy’s ‘leg day,' excuse the pun.

  Heather peeked around the front of the van.

  Bob himself stood staring at the police line, scratching his head. He mouthed the words ‘do not cross’ and scratched some more. “Well, ain't that a kick in the hide.”

  “Hello,” Heather said.

  Bob dropped his clipboard and shrieked like a little girl. He turned to her, and the scream died on his lips. He coughed, spluttered then bent to snatch his notes off the ground.

  “Sorry, did I scare you?” Heather asked, and pulled a face.

  “Nope,” Bob replied. “I usually scream at strangers for no reason.”

  Heather laughed, and Dave took to sniffing at the new guy’s ankles. Bob didn’t mind. The corners of his lips twitched into a smile.

  “Are you here for a reason?” Heather asked though it was probably another silly question given the circumstances.

  “Yep, yep, yep,” Bob said. He flipped a paper on his clipboard and traced his finger along it. “I’m here for a job. Got complaints about rats in this buildings. Guy by the name of Randy Morton hired me to get rid of ‘em.” Bob sniffed, then wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Maybe I’m early.”

  His gaze danced along the yellow tape.

  “You haven’t heard,” Heather stated. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but Randy’s dead. He was murdered yesterday.”

  “No way.” Bob frowned at his clipboard. “Good thing he paid his deposit.”

  “Uh, I guess,” Heather replied. That was hardly the most sensitive response to hearing someone had been murdered.

  “Guess there’s nothing else to do here, then. Unless you need something exterminated?” Bob asked, raising both eyebrows.

  Heather wasn’t one to crush people’s hopes, but Donut Delights was rodent and pest free and would stay that way. “No, but, hey, wait a second.”

  Bob froze, fingers gripping the handle to his truck’s lurid green door. “Yeah?”

  “Did you say that you were here to exterminate rats?”

  “Yeah,” Bob replied and gestured with the clipboard. “Guy called me a couple of days ago, freaking out about them. He tried to bully me down on my price too.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah, he said he could find a guy to do it for less. So I said, go ahead, right? I know I’m the only person in Hillside who does exterminations. And the way he was talking, it was like, the rat apocalypse had arrived in his storage room. Wouldn’t stop yelling about it.” Bob sighed. “Guess his rat problems are over, am I right?”

  Heather nodded. Dave barked to answer for her.

  “I’ve gotta get going. These bugs don’t kill themselves. Got a termite infestation a couple of blocks over,” Bob said. His car door thumped open, and he clambered into the cab. He started the engine and waved at Heather. “You be careful down here. Never know what kinda weirdoes you find out here.”

  Then he roared off down the road in his bug-festooned truck, the antenna wiggling in the breeze.

  “Oh the irony,” Heather whispered. She fanned her cheeks and turned her attention to the front of the store instead.

  Quiet reigned. A gentle breeze rattled the front windows of the restaurant.

  “Shall we?” Heather asked. She led Dave around the side of the building, into the small, dirty alley between the restaurant and what appeared to be an apartment building beside it.

  Dave whined again.

  “You never stop complaining,” Heather said and sighed. “We’re just checking it out.” The longer she stayed out here, the better. Amy hadn’t finished her ‘leg day’ workout yet.

  They hurried down the alley and around the back of the building and met an overflowing dumpster and the shabby back door of Randy’s Burger Bar.

  Heather narrowed her eyes at the jamb, then leaned in. “It looks like it’s been forced,” she mumbled.

  Splinters of wood had torn free from the doorjamb and the varnished door. Heather scratched her temple. What did it mean? Could the murderer have come through this entrance?

  And why had Randy left his restaurant in a state of disrepair?

  Heather stepped back and tugged on Dave’s leash. “We’d better get back to Donut Delights, little buddy. Or I’ve got to, at least. You need to stay as far away from donuts as possible.”

  Dave perked up at the mention of his favorite snack, even though Wednesday’s weren’t his treat day.

  “C’mon, boy, let’s hightail it outta here.”

  Chapter 5

  The sun baked Heather’s cheeks, but she didn’t shift out of the chair opposite Eva’s spot. She picked up her Choc Crunch donut and took a generous bite, then chewed, ignoring the insist
ent tug in the back of her mind.

  She couldn’t get the pest control problem off the brain. Rats. A giant bobbling bug on top of a green truck. The splintered doorjamb at the back of the burger bar.

  “You seem preoccupied,” Eva said. “Is everything all right, dear?”

  “I guess you could say that it is, and it isn’t,” Heather replied.

  “Another case? I heard that Randy passed away. A pity. I enjoyed his burgers on the odd occasion I get out.” Eva picked up her coffee mug and extended her pinky finger. She took a dainty sip.

  “You did? Do you like Mexican? Because Ryan and I always go out to eat at Dos Chicos.” That was totally beside the point, but Heather would do almost anything to make Eva happier.

  “Oh, I –”

  The bell above the front door tinkled, and Heather stiffened. It was that time of the morning.

  Jung’s shift in the donut store had just started.

  Heather turned to face her assistant, and he gave her a sheepish grin which didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Everything okay?” Jung asked.

  Heather rose from her seat and brushed off her apron. “I’ll be right back, Eva,” she said, then hurried to her new employee. Her insides mulched around in circles, teasing her with nerves.

  Honestly, she had no reason to be nervous. She wasn’t a suspect in this case. The whole exterminator thing was kinda funny too.

  “We need to talk,” she said.

  It was Jung’s turn to go as stiff as a board. “If you want to. I mean, I don’t have a problem talking. I’m sure you know that the cops have been talking to me too. Maybe Ryan told you too? I think that –”

  Heather clamped her hand down on Jung’s arm. “It’s okay. I’m not going to give you the third degree. I just need a couple of answers.”

  “Okay,” he said and gulped. Apparently, those answers intimidated him. Or was it the questions?

  “Let’s chat in my office over a donut. Or a cup of coffee. Whatever you prefer.” Heather didn’t wait for his answer.

  She blazed a trail through the bakery up to her office door, then opened it and held it for her assistant. Heather glanced at the counter, and Amy gave her a thumbs up and a cheeky wink.

  Heather took a deep breath, then stepped into the office and bumped the door closed with her butt.

  “So,” she said.

  “So,” Jung replied, hovering beside the chair in front of her desk.

  Heather crossed to her leather-backed seat, burying her apprehension in the pit of her stomach. She sank into the chair, then rocked back and forth in it. She gestured for Jung to sit too. He didn’t.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Let’s clear the air first,” Heather said. “I can tell you’re nervous. Trust me. I understand just how scary it is to go through this process. I have lost count of the times the cops have questioned me.” For some reason, Heather was always involved in the cases.

  Or suspected in them. Or at least brought in for being a ‘nuisance’. Hah, as if the cops could solve the murders without her.

  Okay, that’d been a little cocky, but it was allowed given her track record.

  Jung walked to the chair and sat down, at last. “It’s all so overwhelming. Your husband has spoken to me, and they were asking for alibis, and I just can’t give them one. I don’t have an alibi. I was sleeping. I live alone, now.”

  “I don’t want an explanation from you,” Heather said and swept her hands over her desk. The wood’s coolness soothed her nerves. “I want to help you clear your name. I know you didn’t do it. I know you don’t have violence in you.”

  “Thank you,” Jung said. He hunched over and let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much for saying that. I could take everyone else doubting me, but not you, boss.”

  “I haven’t doubted you for a second. But look, I need some answers otherwise I can’t help you out on this one. Get it?”

  “Got it.”

  “Good.” Heather dragged her laptop across the desk. She flipped open the lid and tapped her fingers on the mouse pad while it started up. “Is there anything you can tell me about Randy? Anything at all you think I should know.”

  “Uh, I told you he had financial trouble, right?” Jung bit his bottom lip. The color had returned to his cheeks, and he squared his shoulders, sat a little straighter in the chair.

  “Yeah, you did.” Heather typed in her password and opened a word document. She typed Randy Morton’s name across the top of the page.

  “So yeah, there was that. And well, he had trouble with pests recently. Rats. They kept eating his food and leaving droppings everywhere. That added to his stress. It was part of the reason we fought the other night, right before he passed.” Jung choked on the last word.

  Heather typed ‘rats’ underneath Randy’s name. Then ‘finances’ under that. “Anything else.”

  Jung tapped his palms on his knees and twisted his lips to the side. “Hmmm, not that I can think – oh, wait!”

  “What?”

  “His grandmother. She was horrible to him. Always calling him names and putting pressure on him to make more money. He didn’t tell me all of it, but I know that she was a big cause of stress for him.”

  Heather typed ‘grandmother’ on the next line. “Do you know her name?”

  “Miriam,” Jung replied. “Miriam Morton. She lives above the restaurant.”

  Heather typed Randy’s grandma’s name, then saved the document and exited. “Thanks, Jung. I think that’s all I need for now. But if you’ve got anything else to share, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me.”

  Jung rose and smiled at her. The first genuine show of happiness from him since he’d entered Donut Delights. “Thanks, Heather.”

  Chapter 6

  Heather inhaled through her nose and shut her eyes for a second. Dave tugged on the leash, leading her down the road, the cheeky ‘dawg’, and she let him.

  The sun had only just started to set, the warmth of the day lingered, but the bustle had faded. No rush hour traffic or chattering from the good folk in the town. Just peace, quiet, and…

  “I know this route,” Amy said.

  “What route?” Lilly asked. “Hey, Heather, hand me the leash, please. I want a turn with Dave.”

  Heather chuckled and opened her eyes. Her bestie and the little girl who’d become a part of their gang – the best company a woman could have.

  Dave yipped to second Lilly’s request. Heather handed the girl the woven cord, immediately. Her doggy dearest had chosen his walking companion for the evening.

  Dave hopped around on the end of the leash and Lilly giggled, lost in his antics.

  “This is different. We usually walk past the park,” Amy said. “What are you up to, Heather Shepherd?”

  “Shush, you. You’ll give it away,” Heather replied, but it wasn’t that much of a secret, anyway. She hummed Black Magic Woman.

  A car drove by, tires rolling along the blacktop, the driver illuminated by the orange haze of the sun.

  “You’d better tell me, woman. I don’t have time for your games.” Amy stuck out her finger and waggled it under Heather’s nose.

  Heather cut off at her favorite part of the melody. “This is the way to Randy’s Burger Bar.”

  “Randy’s?” Lilly asked. She stopped mid-stride, the laces on her sneakers dangling loose. “You’re investigating!”

  “Tie your laces,” Heather replied. “And don’t worry about what I’m doing or not doing, young lady. This is a walk. Exercise orientated. Nothing else.”

  Amy snorted.

  “What’s that for?” Heather narrowed her eyes at her best friend.

  “You skipped ‘leg day.’ I forbid you from using exercise as an excuse.”

  “Hey, I feed you donuts of the highest possible quality. You owe me your allegiance.”

  Amy snorted a second time. “So, what’s the deal? Are we snooping? Breaking and entering?”

  Lilly perked
up, and Dave barked, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. The two of them together were incorrigible. “Ooh, can we? I know Bill and Colleen will totally ground me if they find out, but if you stick up for me –”

  “Absolutely not,” Heather said. “We are just walking, and that’s final. I just wanted to see if they’d taken the police lines down, that’s all.”

  “Couldn’t Ryan tell you that?” Amy asked, a frown puckering her usually smooth brow, the orange hue highlighting her tan and the glint of gold in her locks.

  “We’ve agreed not to talk about the case unless I find out something relevant.”

  “And you haven’t yet.” Amy slowed her pace to match Heather’s. “Apart from the bug van.”

  “The bug van?” Lilly asked and twirled one of her braids around her finger. “What’s that? Sounds funny.”

  “All right, we’re not discussing this anymore, and that’s that. You two, you three, I should say, are conspiring to get in trouble.” Heather folded her arms while she walked. She didn’t want Lilly in any trouble. “Actually, we should turn around, go another way.”

  Randy’s Burger Bar stuck out like a biscuit in a donut line-up. The neon sign might’ve been dim, lifeless even, but it was still there.

  “Aunt Heather,” Lilly said, and drew out the ‘r’ at the end of her name.

  “Do me a favor, Ames? Check I didn’t just wrinkle because Lilly said that.” Heather gestured to her face.

  Amy pretended to squint at her.

  “Fine, Heather,” Lilly said. “We’ll just walk past. It’s not like we’re doing anything. I mean, it’s just a building. Hey, who’s that?” The girl pointed, narrowing her eyes at the figure standing at the brink of the alley.

  The same alley which Heather had traversed just the day prior.

  “You three stay here,” Heather said.

  Lilly groaned a complaint, and Dave whined, naughty kids, the pair of them.

  Heather ignored them and walked down the road, feigning interest in the sidewalk. She stepped around a conspicuous stain on the concrete, eying the figure out of her peripherals.

 

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