“Yeah, but I’ve been thinking,” Heather said, and gestured with her cup, “Randy wasn’t a small guy, right? Whoever strangled him had to have been relatively mobile and pretty darn strong.”
“That rules out grumpy grandma?” Amy asked.
“That’s what I’m thinking. I highly doubt she wheeled into his kitchen, down a bunch of metal stairs first, for that matter, and managed to strangle him.”
“Hmmm, that’s weird,” Amy replied.
“What?” Heather sipped more coffee.
“Just what you said now. That grumpy granny couldn’t have wheeled herself down the metal stairs. Your bug guy told us he saw her on the sidewalk,” Amy said.
“So?”
“So, how’d she get there? How’d she get down the stairs without help?”
Heather’s eyes widened and her mouth puckered into a perfect ‘o’ of surprise. “She might’ve been working with someone.”
Heather’s laptop binged an alert, and she held up a finger to forestall more talk. She drew coffee into her mouth and clicked through to her email on her laptop.
Heather coughed and sprayed the screen in brown droplets.
“Whoa. That was something to behold,” Amy said and shook off her arms. “Mind passing me a napkin?”
Heather spluttered. She gasped for breath. She grabbed a couple of napkins from her drawer, tossed half at Amy, then used the other half to sop up the mess on her screen.
“What happened? Who emailed you?”
Heather gulped. She could barely form the words. “An event organizer in Houston.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. She wants an order of five hundred Choc Crunch Donuts, ready to go by tomorrow morning.”
“What?!” It was Amy’s turn to splutter. “That’s impossible. That’s incredible. That’s –”
“And she’s already paid for the order in full. Either I refund her, or we complete the order.”
“Oh my gosh,” Amy said, shaking her head. “What do we do?”
“Call the gang in here, Ames. We’re going to find out what they want to do.” Heather chewed the inside of her cheek. If they did this, it would mean a night of work, of overtime for the staff and herself.
She’d do it, but were they willing? That was the real question. She didn’t want to mistreat the people who’d helped grow Donut Delights from the start.
Amy jumped out of her seat and disappeared out of the office door. Heather stared at her empty coffee cup, hands trembling, a melody on the tip of her tongue.
Finally, the staff trooped in. Maricela in her Donut Delights apron dusted in flour, Angelica with her easy smile. Amy, Jung, and Ken, all with their aprons on, tied and looking super professional.
“I called you in here because we’ve –”
“We already know,” Angelica said. “Amy tells us.”
Jung nodded, his lips pressed into a thin white line. “You’d do anything for us, Heather. And we’ll do anything for you.”
“Are you sure?” Heather asked, and crossed her fingers underneath her desk. This order could be the best thing to happen to Donut Delights. The events planner had an exceptionally professional design card plastered along the bottom of the email.
She might have other clients, put in more orders. Oh boy, oh boy. Those nerves!
“Yeah,” Ken said. “We’re sure. Let’s do this.”
Chapter 13
“All right,” Heather said and planted her fists on her hips. “We’re going to split the kitchen into stations.” She pointed at the far corner. “That’s going to be the prep area. I want the glazes done there. Remember, vanilla and a lot of it. We’re doing five hundred donuts, here, guys. That means triple the amount of glaze for each donut.”
“Got it, boss,” Ken replied.
“We’re going to need to do the chocolate dipped hazelnuts at a separate station,” Heather said and tapped her chin with a finger. “Just because there’s a lot of donuts, doesn’t mean we can skimp on the quality. I don’t want any chocolate and glazed mixed. So we’ll put the chocolate dipping station on the opposite side, over here.”
Heather pointed to the other end of the kitchen.
“Got it,” Jung called out.
“All right, then the donuts will be made on the oven side. We’re going to do them in –” The kitchen door opened behind her, and Heather cut off.
Ryan Shepherd strode through the doors, handsome in his police uniform, as always.
“Am I interrupting something?” He asked, gaze traveling from one staff member's face to the other.
“Your powers of perception are legendary,” Amy replied.
Ryan pulled a face at her, then turned to Heather. “Can I speak to you for a second, love? It’s important.”
“Uh, okay,” Heather said, then grabbed Amy by the arm. “Could you take care of this for me, Ames? Split up the stations and get everybody working.”
“Sure,” Amy replied. “Whatever you say, boss.”
“Oh don’t you start with that too,” Heather said and pursed her lips.
Amy chuckled in reply, then hurried off to start delegating. Ah, the ever reliable Ames – Heather would’ve been lost without her bestie at work. How had she survived before her arrival?
Amy had been with Heather from the start. Before Donut Delight’s doors had opened to the public. She’d helped paint the floors gold, for heaven’s sake.
Heather followed Ryan out into the storefront, then glanced at the clock on the wall. “We’ve got exactly twenty-four hours before this order has to be ready,” she said.
“Is that why the store’s closed?” Ryan asked.
“Yeah, to everyone except Eva. She heard about it and said she wants to help out, too.”
“That’s sweet of her.”
Heather sighed and wiped her forehead with the back of her forearm. “I guess, I just wanted to keep the store open while this went on. I didn’t expect to have to close, you know? It sucks.”
“I understand. Maybe, one day, you’ll be able to fill big orders and keep the store open. You won’t have to sacrifice anything,” Ryan said and drew her into his arms.
“I don’t see how that can happen,” she replied but hugged him back.
“You just have to believe, love.”
Heather stayed wrapped up in his arms, breathing in his scent. Her heart rate slowed, and her mind calmed. Her husband had that effect on her.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” She asked, looking up into his eyes.
He smiled and the wrinkled around his mouth deepened. “I wanted to tell you something about the case,” he said, then broke their embrace. He pulled out a chair for her, and she sat down. He followed suit.
“What about it? Have you got information for me?”
“You could say that. I was just called out to Randy’s Burger Bar for a break-in,” he said. His lips turned down at the corners for a second. “I had to deal with that woman in her wheelchair again. Mama Morton.”
“Weird how everyone calls her Mama. She doesn’t seem like the nurturing type.”
“You can say that again,” Ryan replied.
Heather glanced at the coffee machine but didn’t get up to make them a cup.
Ryan touched his healing black eye, then laughed out loud. “She called the cops for a disturbance, and I decided to go because there’s an active investigation going on. Turns out, she wasn't paranoid. Someone forced the door into the storage room.”
“No way,” Heather said, running her hand across her lips. “I saw that the door had been forced the last time I was there. Splinters chipped from the jamb and the door itself.”
“Yeah, I asked the old lady about it. She said that it was none of her business what her good for nothing grandson had done with his restaurant,” Ryan replied, wiggling his head and mimicking Mama Morton’s voice.
“That’s a lie. She was intimately involved with his business. She had papers which pertained to them in her plac
e.”
“I don’t want to know how you know that. But I checked our records, and it’s not the first complaint that’s been made. It looks like someone’s been breaking into the burger bar on a regular basis. We just don’t know who.”
Heather sighed. It didn’t exactly give her a shiny, new lead, but it was something. “I don’t suppose you want to stick around and help us with the donut fest?”
“Sorry, love, I can’t. But isn’t that Eva at the front door?”
The kindest elderly woman in Hillsides knocked on the glass and waved, beaming from ear to ear.
“Just the person I wanted to see,” Heather replied, grinning right back.
Chapter 14
Donut Delights glowed beneath the lights. The tables were laden with boxes upon boxes of Chocolate Crunch Donuts. The sun peeked its golden head above the horizon, adding to the shine on the golden floorboards.
“Is it over?” Amy asked, from one of the wrought iron chairs. “Did we do it?”
“We did it. All five hundred. We’ll have to send them out in about an hour,” Heather replied. She was beyond yawning.
Eva had retired at midnight the previous night. Heather had forced Jung and Ken out the door for their health, and Maricela and Angelica had left voluntarily just before 1 Am.
The rest of the donuts? The last two hundred? That’d been all Ames and Heather.
“We make a great team,” Heather said, then broke into a humming session – Morning Has Broken by Cat Stevens. She couldn’t shake the nerves, or maybe the humming had become a force of habit.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m too tired to high five you right now. Let’s mental high five. Think about it right now,” Amy said.
“Okay.”
“Are you thinking about it?” Amy asked.
“Yeah.”
“Great. Then we’ve just high fived. Man, I don’t ever want to get out of this chair. I think I’ll just camp out here from now on.” Amy dropped her head back and faked a snore.
“But then you’d miss leg day,” Heather replied.
Amy burst into a wheezing chuckle. Her entire body shook from the mirth. “You’ve got jokes, eh?”
The door to Donut Delights opened, and Jung stepped into the store. He ran a hand through his dark, slicked-back hair and stared at the boxes.
“You did,” he said, choked out more like.
“Are you okay?” Heather asked.
“You look white as a ghost, dude. I don’t mean to criticize, I know I look like death warmed up right now,” Amy said, adding her typically ‘Ames’ viewpoint to the batter, as usual.
“I need to talk to you,” Jung whispered. “Alone.”
“Whatever you say to me, you can say in front of Amy. She’s on my team, always.”
“And forever. Like Shania Twain,” Amy said. “Ooh, not my best reference.”
“You’re tired,” Heather said, “give yourself a break.”
Jung shut the door behind him and made to lock it, then hesitated.
“You can lock it if it makes you feel better,” Heather said. She couldn’t force herself out of her chair, even though she was concerned. Why was Jung jumpy, this time?
The cops had finished their interrogation ages ago. A week back. Maybe the grief over Randy’s death had finally caught up with him.
Jung locked the door and faced Heather. “The cops are going to come after me again. I just know it.”
“What? Why?” Heather asked.
“Aren’t they after you already?” Amy closed one eye and tilted her head to the side.
Heather wasn’t close enough to nudge her bestie in the ribs. She tried the mental thing but got no reaction.
Jung wrung his hands and stepped toward them, then stopped again. “I just received news that I’m the sole beneficiary of Randy’s life insurance policy.”
“What?”
“It’s going to pay out a lot of money. Hundreds of thousands of dollars to me.”
Amy gasped. Heather echoed her.
“Why? What on earth? Why didn’t he leave it to his mother? Did you know about this before it happened?” Heather asked. She finally mustered the energy to sit straight. She rose from her seat and walked to Jung. “Jung, did you know about this? Because that’s something you should’ve told the police.”
“I swear, I didn’t know. From what the insurance company guy told me, it was a last minute change,” Jung said.
“What do you mean?” Amy shifted in her chair. All her yawns had disappeared.
“I mean, Randy had his grandmother as the beneficiary until a week before his death. Then he changed it to me.” Jung’s eyes glistened. He grabbed his belt loops and tugged at them. “Do you realize how this looks? It looks like I – like I was the one who, you know, who killed him.”
Amy pressed her lips together.
Heather’s tired mind ticked through the possibilities.
On one hand, it looked bad for her assistant. Jung could’ve convinced Randy to change his policy, then killed him for it. But Jung didn’t need huge amounts of cash for anything. That motivation wasn’t too strong.
On the other hand, it looked pretty bad for Randy’s grandmother too. The arguments, the strange letters asking Randy to pay up and Mama Morton’s insistence that he was good for nothing.
She’d also lied to the police.
Randy might’ve gotten fed up, changed the policy because he suspected Morton was up to something, then paid for it later. The grumpy granny might’ve had a partner in crime. Someone strong enough to strangle a man of Randy’s stature.
“Don’t jump to any conclusions, just yet,” Heather said. “Just know that we believe you’re innocent and that I will get to the bottom of this, no matter what.”
“Come snow or sleet or – what’s that saying, again?” Amy asked.
“But the cops –”
Heather grabbed her employee by the shoulder and squeezed, gently. “The worst thing you can do right now is panic. I promise, if you keep a clear head about this, everything will be fine. Don’t run. Just wait for the cops to come to you.”
“Better yet, go to them first,” Amy said.
A crash rang out from the back of the bakery. The clang of metal on metal.
“It’s the cops!” Jung hissed. “The cops have come for me. They’re going to throw me in jail, for life. I didn’t do it, Heather, I swear.”
“Cool it, dude,” Amy said. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
Heather let go of her assistant and turned to face the office. “That wasn’t a cop. They don’t come through back doors.” Not necessarily true. Davidson had pranced into her kitchen, not so long ago.
Excitement trickled through Heather’s veins. Another mystery. Adrenaline thrown into the mix.
More banging and clanging, then a scraping noise. A man spoke from the back of the building, loud enough for them to hear.
“There are two of them,” Amy whispered. She rose from her seat and walked over to Heather’s side. “Shall we?”
“Oh yes,” Heather said, “we shall. Follow me.”
Chapter 15
Heather and Amy crept through the store. They circled the glass counter from opposite ends, gazes trained on the office door. Was the intruder inside? Or had the noises come from the back?
“Only one way to find out,” Heather said, under her breath. She wrapped her palm around the door knob, its coolness pressing against her skin.
She glanced at Amy. They nodded at the same moment.
Heather opened the door and charged into her office, gaze darting from corner to corner. Amy followed and raised her fists – had she been taking karate at the gym too?
The desk and chairs stared back at them, the sole occupants of the office. Apart from Heather’s lonely laptop, which hummed on the desk pad, still shining after she’d abandoned it, email open, yesterday morning.
“Well that’s weird,” Amy whispered. “I know all three of us are tired, but we co
uldn’t have hallucinated those noises as a group. Could we? Is that a thing that happens?”
Heather shook her head, wordlessly. That was not a thing that happened to her knowledge.
“Then what was that?”
Another clang thundered from the back of the building. The women froze and stared at the office window.
Heather pressed a finger to her lips, then tiptoed to her desk. She opened her drawer, brought out her handbag then fished around in it. Her fingers closed around the hard plastic end of her Taser.
She brought it out, clicked off the safety button, then gestured to the window panes.
The sun had banished the last vestiges of a gray dawn. Traffic zoomed by in the road out front.
“Got to be more than that,” a man said, from beneath the window. “Got be much more. Tastes so good.”
Heather and Amy shared a quizzical glance. They stalked to the window and stood either side of it. Ames pulled a Charlie’s Angels pose to lighten the mood. Heather snorted and pressed a fist to her nose.
“I can figure them out. If I can taste enough of them, I can figure them out,” the man grumbled on, in his flat monotone.
Heather peered out the window and stifled a gasp.
Amy did the same and stifled a chuckle instead.
Geoff Lawless stood beneath the sill, hunched over the Donut Delights trash cans, sifting through half empty donut boxes. He picked up a couple of scraps and inserted them between his lips, then chewed.
Amy made a gagging face.
“Not enough crumbs. Where are all the donuts? What does she do with them? She’s hiding them so I can’t work out the recipes, that’s it.”
Heather’s jaw dropped. That was what Geoff was after? Did he want to work out her recipes and steal them? The man couldn’t figure things out on his own, couldn’t make his recipes and draw in loyal customers for himself.
Shoot, he probably thought they hadn’t come in yet. If he’d been a real baker, Geoff would’ve realized that work at Donut Delights started as early as 5 am some mornings.
“How does she do it? Choc Crunch, hah,” Geoff said, then held up a chocolate coated hazelnut. “I found one.” He gobbled it down, then smacked his lips. “Still not enough, where are all the donuts?” He scratched underneath his chin, rasping his nails along his beard.
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