Fatally Frosted (9 page)

Read Fatally Frosted Online

Authors: Jessica Beck

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Cozy, #Amateur Sleuth

“So, where should we get started?” he asked.

I frowned. “On what? I’m not sure we should butt into this murder investigation, at least not yet.”

George shook his head. “It’s too soon, I agree. I was talking about getting this place cleaned up.”

“You don’t have to hang around and help,” I said.

He grinned. “I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Do you have an extra apron hanging around here?”

I walked to the storage closet and pulled one off a hook. “If you’re serious, this should fit you just fine.”

He put it on and tied it. “Don’t you think I’m capable of washing a pot or two?”

“I know you can do it, I’m just not sure why you’d want to.”

George said, “What else is there to do? Do you want to wash or dry?”

I laughed and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

He rubbed the spot, then asked, “What was that for?”

“For being here,” I said.

“Like I said before, it’s no big deal.”

“Well, it is to me.”

It was so nice having company as we cleaned up Donut Hearts.

George and I had just finished washing the dishes when there was a knock at the front door. When I peeked out through the kitchen door, I could see who it was without them seeing me.

It was Jake Bishop, and from the scowl plastered on his face, I had a pretty good idea that he wasn’t coming by to ask me out.

 

 

HOBO DONUTS

Kids in particular love these, and they’re so easy to make, we do them all the time. The batter’s kind of messy, but it’s worth the trouble. Prep is easy to do while the oil’s heating, so you don’t have long to wait to enjoy these treats.

INGREDIENTS

Batter

• 1 cup all-purpose flour

• ¼ teaspoon salt

• 1 egg

• 2 teaspoons baking powder

• ¾ cup milk

• 2 teaspoons granulated sugar

Sift the dry ingredients together, then, in a separate bowl, beat the eggs and add the milk. Add the wet mixture to dry and mix well.

 

Additional Ingredients

• Slices of bread, any kind (but we use white)

• Jam or preserves (your favorite, cherry is one of ours)

• Cinnamon sugar or icing sugar

• Batter (the ingredients listed above)

• Oil for frying, 360–370 degrees F

Cut the crusts from the bread. Make jam sandwiches like you ordinarily would, then cut them into four squares each. Give each square a quick dip in the batter and fry them all until they’re golden brown.

When they come out, dust them lightly with cinnamon sugar and eat.

Yield: 8–12 squares

CHAPTER 4

“Should I stick around?” George asked as he spotted Jake knocking on the door.

“I appreciate your support, I truly do, but I need to talk to him alone.” I looked around the shop and added, “Besides, we’ve already taken care of this. The place looks great. I don’t know how I can thank you enough.”

“No thanks needed,” George said as he put the apron in my hands. “I was glad to help. Any time, Suzanne, you know that. If you need me, I’m always just a phone call away.” He paused, then added, “Better yet, I’ll be across the road at the diner. Come on over after you’re finished with him.”

I hugged him, and then let George out as Jake waited to come inside.

After he was gone, Jake said, “What was that all about?”

“He came by to give me a hand cleaning up,” I said.

“He’s a good guy,” Jake said.

“Is there something I can do for you?” I asked, keeping my voice level.

Jake frowned. “I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I know I need to try harder than I have been.”

It was quite a concession coming from him, but I could tell from his eyes that he wasn’t done. “There’s something more, though, isn’t there?”

He nodded. “You have to keep something in mind yourself. I’ve got a job to do, and I can’t play favorites just because we’re involved. I’m doing everything in my power to help you, so you’ve got to cut me a little slack.”

I couldn’t let that one go. “How exactly are you helping me?”

He got close enough to me so that I could smell his cologne. “You’re not in jail, are you? If Chief Martin had his way, I’ve got a feeling you’d be sitting in a cell right now if I hadn’t intervened.”

“That’s preposterous,” I said. “What evidence could the man possibly have against me?”

“Suzanne, your donut killed that woman.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Jake, you’re acting as though I poisoned it myself! Somebody tampered with that donut after it left my shop, and I can’t control that any more than an automobile manufacturer can keep folks from driving drunk after they buy a car.”

“Hey, I’m on your side, remember?”

“I hope so,” I said.

He glanced at the clock, then said, “I’ve got to be somewhere right now, but I wanted to stop by and make things right with us. I’d stay if I could, but I can’t miss this.”

He hugged me briefly, and then he was gone.

It appeared that Jake was going to bend over
backward to make sure no one thought he was playing favorites with me, and our chief of police was obviously already suspicious of me.

I hated butting into an ongoing murder investigation, but it appeared that I really didn’t have any choice.

“Hi. Can I join you?” I asked George as I walked up to his booth in the Boxcar Grill.

“You know it,” he said as he pointed to the empty seat across from him.

George was about to say something else when Trish came up with a glass of sweet tea and slid it in front of me.

“I haven’t even ordered yet,” I said.

“That’s okay. If you don’t want it, I’ll drink it myself.”

She started to pretend to drink my tea; at least I hoped she was pretending. There are a handful of things Southerners don’t joke about, and sweet tea is near the top of the list.

“Not so fast,” I said. “I’ll take that.”

Trish grinned at me. “I kind of thought you would.” She looked at George and said, “Now that she’s here, are you ready to order?”

“Absolutely. I’ll take a cheeseburger and fries.”

“That sounds good to me,” I said.

After Trish was gone, I told George, “We need to find out who killed Peg Masterson. I was going to keep out of it, but from the conversation I just had with Jake, it looks like I’m not going to be able to count on him. Will you help me?”

George took a sip of tea, then he said, “I won’t
say no, even though you know how I feel about interfering with an active police investigation. You know, the more I think about it, that was a pretty deliberate way to implicate you. There are a thousand ways to poison someone. Why use one of your lemon-filled donuts?”

“I can actually answer that,” I said. “It was the only donut Peg would eat.”

George nodded. “So whoever killed her must have known that.”

“The murderer must have known her fairly well to use such a devious temptation,” I said. I never would have believed that I’d ever call one of my donuts that. “I’m the first person to admit that no one should make a steady diet of them, but donuts are high on the list of most people’s real comfort foods.”

George smiled. “I can attest to that. The real question is, was your donut simply a convenient way to deliver the poison, or was there a darker reason the killer chose it?”

“Who would want to frame me for murder?” I lowered my voice when I noticed a few heads turn toward us, and I added, “Let’s not be ridiculous. I’m a donut shop owner, not some international business tycoon. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to pin this murder on me.”

“Don’t be so sure,” George said. “Let’s not forget when and where the murder occurred. It was thirty steps from where you were demonstrating donut making. That wasn’t exactly random, was it?”

The weight of what he was saying was finally starting to sink in. It appeared that I had an even greater stake in finding the killer now, since someone
had so diligently gone out of their way to frame me for their crime.

“I’ve got to admit that everything you’ve been saying makes sense. Where do we go from here, though?”

George said, “We come up with a list of people we need to investigate, and then we figure out ways to look into their lives.” He looked at me for a second, then said, “Suzanne, I think it’s pretty clear that the killer’s tying this all in with you, and if you start doing something suspicious, or if he even thinks you’re getting too close, you could be in danger yourself.”

“I appreciate your concern, but there’s no way I can sit by while you take all the risks.”

Trish walked over to us with a tray loaded with food. “Here you go.”

After she placed our plates in front of us, George and I started to eat. We were halfway through with our meals when the diner’s door opened and Officer Grant walked in.

When our gazes met, I told George, “Excuse me for a second, would you?”

He nodded, and I approached the officer at the front counter. “You’re not here looking for me, are you?” I asked, trying to keep the dread out of my voice.

“Not unless you’re a steak sandwich,” he said. Turning to Trish, he asked, “Is my order ready yet?”

“You just called it in three minutes ago,” she protested. “Have a seat. It’ll be ready in a jiff.”

I rejoined George, and Officer Grant finally got his sandwich. After he paid, he saluted me with two fingers and left the diner.

I started to say something when he said, “This place isn’t private enough. Any chance we can go to the donut shop and finish our discussion?”

“That’s fine by me,” I said. “Let me just pay this bill, and then we can go.”

“Hang on a second. We’re splitting this right down the middle,” George said.

“Not this time. You’re helping me, so I’m picking up the check, and I don’t want to hear any fuss about it.”

He didn’t fight me, which was a nice change of pace, I had to admit.

I saw George slip his hand to his wallet, and added, “I’ve got the tip, too.”

He laughed gently, but he didn’t argue with me. “Then I thank you for a nice lunch.”

As I stopped to pay our bill, George left ahead of me. I turned to Trish and handed her the bill, along with enough cash to cover it and a healthy tip as well.

She started to hand me my change, and I said, “The rest is for you.”

Trish looked at the bills and whistled softly. “Sweet. I’m putting this in my Alaska fund.”

Trish had been saving for the big trip for as long as I’d known her. “How close are you?”

“It varies, depending on whatever emergencies are happening in my life at the moment. But I’m going to make it one day, you just wait and see.”

“There’s no doubt in my mind about that,” I said.

I walked out to find that George was nowhere in sight, and for a moment I panicked. Then I heard him calling me.

He was already standing in front of Donut Hearts, waiting to get in.

There was only one problem. As I got closer to him, I noticed that someone else had joined him while I’d been inside paying the bill, someone I most certainly did not want to add to our meeting.

“Hey, Momma, what are you doing here?”

“I just heard about what happened at Marge’s place this morning,” my mother said. “You poor child.” Though she was a petite woman—a full six inches shorter than me—she managed to wrap me up in her arms and make me feel as though she was towering over me. In times like this, I knew how lucky I was to still have her in my life.

“It was bad,” I said, wondering how I was going to explain to her what was going on.

Momma looked around and said, “Why isn’t Grace here with you?”

“Momma, she doesn’t even know what happened. She’s out of town, and to be honest with you, in all the commotion, I forgot to call her.”

That seemed to appease her, and it had the added benefit of being true.

She looked me in the eye. “Are you all right? Be honest with me.”

“I’m not, but I will be.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

I shook my head. “No, but I appreciate you coming by.”

After pausing a moment, Momma asked, “Are you two hungry? I’m buying.”

George said, “Thanks, but we just ate.”

She nodded. “Then since you’ve eaten, and I’m starving, I believe I’ll go have a bite myself. Suzanne, we’ll talk about this again, yes?”

I hugged her. “Yes. Thanks for being here for me.”

“You are my only child, and you are in distress. Where else on earth would I be, Suzanne?”

After Momma was gone, I asked, “Shall we all go inside?”

“Sure,” George said, “But we’ll have to keep it brief. I’ve got a feeling your mother’s coming back.”

“You’ve got good instincts,” I said as I unlocked the door and let him inside the donut shop.

“How should we approach this?” I asked after we were settled in at one of the tables away from the windows.

George said, “We need to look into Peg Masterson’s life, and figure out who would want to see her dead. I can dig around the police station to see if there’s any buzz there.”

“I don’t think Peg had a housekeeper, but I can talk to her neighbors. Maybe they can tell me something I don’t already know. Before I do that, though, I’m going next door and talking to Gabby Williams.”

George asked, “Really? Is it worth it?”

“She’s the biggest gossip in April Springs,” I said. “If Peg was up to anything she shouldn’t have been, you can bet that Gabby knows about it.”

“That’s brave of you, Suzanne,” George said.

“Hey, somebody has to do it. So, should we talk again in the morning and share our discoveries?”

George stood. “I’ll be here, bright and early.”

After we said our good-byes, I took a deep breath and walked next door to ReNEWed, the classy secondhand clothing shop that Gabby owned, and the hub of her gossip network.

Gabby was with a customer when I walked in—though I couldn’t see who it was—so I moved near one of the racks of clothing halfway through the store and pretended to consider a purchase or two. I heard voices that had been heated suddenly drop into whispers across the room, and the front door was hurriedly thrust open as the customer left in a huff. I only saw her a second, but it was pretty clear from where I was standing that it was Janice Deal, the woman who owned Patty Cakes, a cake and cookie shop on Springs Drive down the block from Donut Hearts. What on earth had they been talking about, and why had Janice left the shop so abruptly?

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