Assault and Batter (5 page)

Chief Martin stood and took another drink from his coffee cup. “I’d better get back out there and see what I can come up with.”

“Shouldn’t you go home and at least try to get a little sleep?” I asked.

“I’ve got a cot at the station I can use later,” he said. “Thanks again, for the coffee and the cooperation.”

“Anytime,” I said.

After the police chief was gone, I started my routine, turning on the fryer and getting out my photocopied recipe book. As I started the first round of cake donuts, I began to consider the possibilities of who might have killed Jude Williams and how this was going to impact the impending wedding. I was glad for the quiet, since Emma didn’t come in for a little while, but I was no closer to reaching any conclusions than I’d been after I’d heard the news. I hoped that Grace had some free time coming. I could use her help in my investigation.

“Did you hear the news?” Emma Blake asked me as she reported for work a little later. “Gabby’s nephew was murdered last night.” It wasn’t all that unusual for Emma to have information about the current events in April Springs, since her father ran the newspaper.

“I heard,” I said as I continued to work on the cake donuts. As far as I was concerned, Emma didn’t need to know about my arrangement with Chief Martin. As a matter of fact, it might not be a bad idea for me to keep that particular little tidbit to myself. After all, I doubted the chief would appreciate seeing the fact that he’d spoken with me about the case spread out across the front page of the newspaper.

“Man, news travels fast in a small town, doesn’t it?”

“You have no idea. Do you mind setting up the front?” I asked her. “I’m going to drop some donuts.”

“I’ll take care of it,” she said as she beat a hasty retreat. Our donut dropper was large, clunky, and heavy. It had slipped out of my hands once, and I’d made a conscious decision not to fix the dent in the wall it had made on impact. It was a good reminder just how dangerous donut making could be. It also had the added benefit of ending a conversation with Emma that I didn’t particularly want to have. She frequently walked a fine line between being my assistant and being her father’s daughter, and she’d crossed it a few times in the past, sharing things with him that I hadn’t wanted known. I’d decided after the last incident to be a little more discreet about what I shared with her, and so far, it had worked out just fine. I hated to cut off a friend, but my ability to act freely depended on it. Folks had to feel able to speak with me about murder, and they wouldn’t do that if they started reading what they’d told me in the newspaper.

After I dropped the last of the cake donuts, I put the dropper in the sink and called out, “It’s all clear, Emma.”

She rejoined me promptly and got to work on the first round of dishes. As I pulled the last of the cake donuts from the oil and iced them, I said, “We should try something new. I’m afraid things might be getting a little stale around here. Do you have any ideas?”

“I was hoping you’d ask,” she said as she reached in the pocket of her blue jeans and pulled out a tattered piece of paper.

“What’s that?” I asked her with a smile.

“It’s my list of new ideas,” she said. “Here goes. I’ll just read them off, and you tell me if anything sounds interesting to you. Mango Sherbet. Apricot Honey. Blueberry Jalapeño. Neapolitan. Ginger Ale and Strawberry. Pineapple Ham.”

“Are we still talking about donuts?” I asked. What did she do, sit around and dream these things up? Well, I had nobody to blame but myself. I’d asked.

“Fillings, actually,” she said. “For example, we take two raised donuts, fry them like usual, and then add a little fried pineapple and ham in between. We make a sandwich out of it, like they did with a hamburger patty at the state fair. I’ll bet it would be delicious.”

“Maybe so, but do we really want to open ourselves up for more scorn from the diet-conscious folks?”

“They don’t have to come in here, but if they do, you usually offer them something they can eat.”

It was true that I tried to come up with at least a few recipes that wouldn’t spike the glucose levels of my customers, but it hadn’t been as easy as I’d hoped. Besides, most of them weren’t very good sellers. It turned out that most of the people who came into Donut Hearts wanted some comfort food that actually tasted like it was decadent. If there was a way to do that in a healthy manner, I hadn’t found it yet. “Tell you what. Pick out your favorite, and we’ll try it soon.”

“That’s going to be tough to narrow it down,” she said.

“Do your best,” I said with a grin as I put the last cake donuts on a tray and slid the whole thing onto a rolling rack we used to move the finished donuts up front.

“Okay, but I’m not ready to commit to anything yet.”

“Take your time,” I said as I flipped the pages of my recipe book to my basic glazed donut dough entry. I could put that one together in my sleep, but I got a lot of reassurance out of the fact that I could read it right out of the book. My copy had been stolen and then burned on my front porch, but fortunately, Emma’s mother had made one for herself when she worked in the shop while I’d been away. She’d had a copy that I hadn’t known about, and all had been saved. I couldn’t very well say no to Emma about trying new things after her mother had safeguarded all of my old recipes, and who knew? Maybe she’d come up with a real winner, though I had no idea how things would turn out, given the list she’d read off to me. After I got all of the ingredients together in the mixer and turned it on, I started doing a little cleanup of my own so I’d be ready for the next phase of donut making. The timer went off, and I removed the mixing paddle and covered the bowl with plastic wrap. While we gave the dough time to rise, Emma and I could take a break of our own.

I only had one caveat this morning, though. “I’d love to go outside for our break, but I don’t want to talk about Jude Williams. Is that okay with you?”

She nodded, even though I could tell that she was a little disappointed by my request. “That’s fine. Would you like to talk about Emily’s wedding instead?”

It wasn’t my favorite topic in the world, but I had to give her credit; it was still better than murder. “Sure, why not?”

“Suzanne, you’re so lucky to be her maid of honor,” Emma said as we walked outside.

“I hated to do it, on your account. Emma, we both know that you should be standing up there beside her. After all, the two of you are best friends.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Emma said with a broad smile. “Emily explained it all to me, and who could disagree? If it weren’t for you, there wouldn’t even be a wedding.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that? They would have found a way to work it out if it was meant to be, Emma.”

“Like you and Jake have?” she asked. I must have flinched at my boyfriend’s name, because she quickly asked, “Is there something going on between the two of you? He is coming to the wedding, isn’t he?”

That was the least of my worries, but I didn’t want to go into that with Emma. “It’s hard to say at this point. He was coming to April Springs when he was called back to Raleigh at the last second.”

“It must be great being with such an important man,” she said.

“It has its moments,” I said. I had to change the subject again, and I was beginning to wonder if there was anything safe that Emma and I could talk about these days. “How’s your love life?” I asked her.

“You don’t want to know,” she said with a sigh. “Why is it that boys my age are all still boys? Aren’t they growing any men these days?”

I laughed. “Are you having trouble with young men in general, or is there one particular one that’s driving you a little crazy?”

“Just in general at the moment,” she said. “I’m seriously thinking about going after an older man the next time.”

“How old are we talking here?” I asked her, wary of what Peter had said to me the day before.

“I don’t know. Maybe two or three years older than I am, anyway. What do you think? Is that too old for me?”

“No, that sounds just about perfect to me,” I said as the timer went off. It was time to go back inside and prep the donuts again before they were ready for proofing. “No rest for the weary,” I said as I stood.

“Or the wicked, either,” Emma replied with a grin.

“I’m not exactly sure which we are,” I answered in kind.

“Can’t we be both?” she asked me.

“Today we can be anything we put our minds to,” I replied.

“Then I want to be home in bed,” Emma said with a laugh.

“Well, almost anything,” I replied as we walked in and I locked the door behind us. We had a long few hours of donutmaking before we opened our doors for our first customers, and I for one was ready to get busy making treats. I might not be able to cure any disease or comfort anyone in serious pain, but I still managed to bring out a few smiles in the course of my day, and that was worth something.

It wasn’t all smiles, though, or even very many of them that day.

The mayor came into the donut shop a little after I unlocked the front doors at six. I didn’t even wait for George to order as I grabbed him an old-fashioned cake donut and a cup of coffee.

“Am I that predictable, Suzanne?” he asked me as he handed over his money.

“I like someone who’s reliable,” I said.

“Then you should be my biggest fan,” he said. “How’s Jake doing these days?”

I put on my best smile. “He’s fine,” I said with the slightest catch in my voice. I hadn’t meant to show any emotion, but clearly I wasn’t that good at hiding my feelings.

George raised one eyebrow, but it was clear he was going to let it pass without comment.

“How well did you know Jude Williams?” he asked me. Did George already know that I was investigating the man’s death?

“We went to school together, but we were never all that close. He came in here every now and then for donuts, but we never had all that much to talk about. Any reason for the question?”

“What? No, just a little idle chatter,” he said. “It’s a real shame, though.”

“Did you know him well?” I asked, sorry for my friend’s loss.

“Not at all,” he said. “It’s just not good for the town. We’ve had far too many murders in the past few years.”

“Does it make you want to give up being the mayor and sign on as a cop again?” I asked him. George had served under Chief Martin, and now he was his boss, a relationship I often wondered about.

“No, thanks. For the moment, I believe that I’ll stay right where I am. I have enough problems to deal with without becoming a cop again.” The mayor looked over his shoulder casually, and then he said, “Speaking of which, here comes one now.”

I looked up to see Van Rayburn coming into the donut shop. Van was a vocal town councilman who rarely agreed with George about anything. “It’s too late to skip out now,” I said with a grin.

“Watch me,” George said as he grabbed what was left of his donut and his coffee.

“Mr. Mayor,” Van started to say, but George interrupted him.

“No time to chat. Got an important meeting at city hall.”

“Then I’ll walk with you,” Van said. “We can talk along the way.”

As George hurried out the door in hopes of escaping, I was happy to see that his limp was nearly gone. He’d hurt his leg helping me during an investigation, and every time I’d seen him limping afterwards, I felt guilt. Maybe I could finally put that particular demon to bed, not that there weren’t half a dozen waiting to take its place. It was impossible to investigate murder as an amateur and not have some collateral damage from friendly fire, and over the years I’d had more than my share. It was just one of the costs of conducting my unofficial investigations, but at least I could take pride in the fact that George, Grace, and I had helped catch more than one killer in the past. I just hoped that when all was said and done, it would be enough to make up for the hurt I’d caused unintentionally as I struggled to find the truth.

I thought closing time at eleven o’clock would never get there. There had been a steady stream of customers coming in all morning long, and each and every one of them seemed to want to talk about what had happened to Jude Williams. By the time we closed for the day, I’d called Grace and arranged to meet her later, but in the meantime, I was on my own. As I walked to my Jeep, I glanced over at Gabby Williams’ shop. I wasn’t surprised in the least that she was closed, but was that a light on inside? I decided to walk over and see. The door was locked, but I couldn’t let that stop me. As I pounded on the door, I called out, “Gabby, it’s Suzanne Hart. Let me in.”

No reply.

“Okay, I understand, but if you want to talk, call me, okay?”

I was halfway to my Jeep when I heard someone calling my name. I turned to find Gabby hiding in her own doorway as though she was some kind of fugitive. “Get in here,” she said loudly.

It was a direct order, something that I wasn’t all that fond of taking from anybody, but I decided to cut her some slack. After all, she had just lost her nephew. I turned around and headed back, but evidently I wasn’t quick enough for her.

“Are you coming or not?” she asked.

“Give me a second,” I said as I hurried my step a little. “I’m so sorry about your—” I never got the rest of it out, because she interrupted me.

“I know you are, but we can’t just stand around out in the open and gab where anyone might overhear us. Come on inside.”

I glanced around and saw that there wasn’t another soul within a hundred yards of us, but I decided not to comment on that. I did as she asked, and the moment I stepped inside the gently used clothing shop, the door slammed behind me and Gabby slid the massive deadbolt into place.

“You never know who might be lurking out there,” she said.

I studied the woman I’d known for most of my life, and I’d never seen her looking so haggard. Her eyes were usually sharp and keen, ready to pick out the slightest flaw with joy, but there was none of that in her expression now. She was a woman clearly haunted by the loss of someone close to her. “How are you holding up?” I asked her.

“I’m a wreck,” she said. “I still can’t believe that someone killed Jude.”