Cinnamon Crunch Murder (9 page)

Unless there was another suspect in the mix. A suspect she hadn’t placed her finger on yet, who had a reason she hadn’t considered. Who else hadn’t liked Tara?

A realization struck Heather in the gut, and she turned to the door to call Ryan, but he was already standing there.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

Ryan tucked the phone back into his pocket and braced his arm against the doorjamb. He hung his head and sighed. “Lilly Jones has gone missing.”

“What? How? From where? I thought she was in foster care?”

“Yeah, she was. But the mom of the family Lilly was with woke up and found her bed empty. She spotted her getting into the back of a car outside the house.”

“A car? What type of car?” Heather asked. Her pulse skyrocketed, and she sucked in short gasps of air to feed her lungs and mind.

“A Sedan,” Ryan said. “Why do you ask?”

Heather swiped sweat off her brow. “We have to go, now. Like right, this second.”

“What are you talking about?” Ryan asked, dropping his arm to his side. He glanced out at the street and the rising sun. “They’re already out searching for her, and the car.”

“Because Lilly’s with Tara’s murderer.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Ryan asked, tilting his head to the side. Dave copied the motion, blinking up at Heather for an explanation for this madness.

“Larry Jones drives a Sedan. I know because Dave peed all over it. And Larry was also the one who lodged the complaint against Tara for making a noise. He complained about her to Amy and me, as well.”

“He’s unhinged. That’s why Lilly wanted to get away from him,” Ryan said and snatched the car keys off the entrance hall table. He ran for the front door, and Heather followed, snatching up her Taser along the way.

Dave barked behind them, but Heather couldn’t risk taking him with on this one. She’d call Amy on the way and ask her to take care of the dog for the day.

Heather got into the passenger’s seat of the car and looked over at her husband. “Paradise Villas.”

“Let’s hope Lilly’s there.”

The evidence didn’t matter anymore, none of it mattered, as long as Lilly was safe.

Ryan started the engine, then reversed out of the drive, fingers tip-tapping on the wheel.

Ryan flashed his badge at the super, and they had the keys for Larry’s upstairs apartment in seconds. It was like magic. One disagreement, one protest, the badge flashed and the objections cut off at once.

Heather rushed up the stairs behind her husband, heart pounding inside her chest. The sedan wasn’t outside, which meant Larry Jones had made a run for it.

“There’s got to be a clue, right? Something that will tell us where they’re going?” Heather asked.

“We’re about to find out,” Ryan said. He inserted the keys into the dingy, blue-painted door, then opened it and stepped into the gloom. He switched on the lights.

Heather followed his lead, moving into a cloud of stale odors and dust. The living room led right into the kitchen, open plan, and two bedrooms were situated off to the right. The place was silent as… ugh, she didn’t want to complete that sentence in her mind.

“Lilly?” Heather called out, softly.

No reply. Of course, there wasn’t a reply. The girl was with her psychopathic father on some joy ride across the state.

Heather sucked in a breath, and Ryan squeezed her shoulder, holding his gun in the other hand, just in case. “Don’t worry, honey, the cops are out looking for the car. It’s not related to the murder until we find the evidence that it was Larry, but kidnapping is a serious offense. They’ll find him. Trust me. They’ll find him.”

Heather wanted that to be true, but Detective Davidson’s special brand of police work had hardly imbued her with confidence.

“Let’s look around. Maybe there’s some indication as to where he went,” Ryan said.

They hurried towards the master bedroom, and Ryan switched on the light there too.

They both grimaced and stepped back a pace.

“Ew,” Heather said. “He hasn’t cleaned up in here in months.”

Piles of dirty clothes rested on a sofa against one wall, and the queen-sized was stained and naked of sheets. A solitary pillow, equally yellow, sat at the head of the mattress.

A desk had been pushed against the wall, and there wasn’t an armoire or a dressing table in sight.

“Let’s try here first,” Heather said, walking to the piles of paper on the desk. She shifted them aside. Bills and junk mail fluttered to the floor. Followed by an eviction notice, then a few drafts of angry letters to the ‘idiot who owns the building’.

Heather’s finger tips brushed against leather. She shifted papers aside and brought a journal out from the bottom of the stack.

“I found his journal,” Heather said.

Ryan grunted behind her, and she spun on the post. He wriggled around beneath the bed, leopard crawling backward out from the depths.

“What are you doing?”

Ryan held up a black glove, between two fingers. He dumped it on the bed, then got up. “Look what I found.”

“Glove.” Heather didn’t have another word for it. The evidence had just appeared. “That’s the glove. Speaking of gloves, shouldn’t we be wearing latex gloves for this?”

“It’s too late now. We’re going to have to carry on without them. Open the journal.”

Heather did as she was told and flipped through the pages. A foul taste sat at the back of her tongue, intensifying as she read each line of script.

“He’s so angry.”

“There, look at that,” Ryan said, pointing at an excerpt of text, dated two weeks prior.

She comes home at all hours of the night, screaming and joking. Laughing with her blonde friend. I hate her. She deserves to die.

She’s disturbing my sleep.

Going to kill her if this carries on. I can’t take the noise anymore. I need the quiet, or the other voices come back. Need the quiet. Quiet. Quiet. Need the quiet. Quiet. Quiet.

“Why is he writing like that?” Heather asked, then dropped the journal on the desk. She wiped her fingers on her blouse to rid them of the filth. “Because he’s insane?”

“No, I don’t think so. He’s got anxiety. That looks like some kind of tic or a way of managing his anxiety. Repeating the word over and over. He might not be insane, but anxiety could be the least of his mental issues.”

Heather pressed her lips together, but she couldn’t summon a tune from her mind.

“What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to call this in. Actually, I’m going to. Davidson will be furious that it wasn’t you. He’ll positively seethe about it, but that doesn’t matter.”

“But Lilly? Where did he take her?” Heather asked.

“Leave that to me,” Ryan replied, and hugged her again. “I’m going to call this in and then I’ll find her myself. All right?”

“She likes investigating,” Heather said, out of the blue. It’d just popped into her mind. “And cars. She really likes to investigate, though. And Dave, he –”

“Love, calm down. I promise everything will be fine. Right now, you need to get out of here. Go to Donut Delights. Get Amy to join you there. If Davidson suspects you were in this apartment for a second, he’ll find a way to discount this evidence. You need to go, now.”

Heather practiced her yoga breathing and listened to her husband’s voice, calming herself one breath at a time.

“You’re right,” she said. “Of course, you’re right. Call me as soon as you hear anything. Or find anything.”

“I swear, I will,” Ryan replied. “I’ll walk you downstairs. I’ve got to question the super, anyway.”

Heather traipsed down the stairs, the excitement and fear, leaking from her with each step. Lilly was still out there. Sure, her name would be cleared, and the case was technically solved, but that didn’t satisfy her.

The whole scenario felt wrong. If only she’d figured this out a little sooner.

She walked out into the morning light and took the car keys from Ryan, concern snapping at her heels.

Had she lost her touch after all this time?

Amy stood by Heather’s side, serving donuts and coffees like an employee, rather than a friend helping out.

“Don’t worry about it,” Amy said. “Ryan’s right. They’re totally going to catch this guy. Lilly will be back with her foster family, and man, you could let her visit Dave all the time.”

Heather smiled at her bestie, but it was forced. “I should’ve figured this out sooner, Ames. The evidence was there, but I was so set on believing that Goldie had done it. I wasted too much time when I should have properly investigated the complaint.”

“Once again, Heather Shepherd succeeds at being too hard on herself,” Amy announced, and the woman who’d just ordered a donut gave a confused grin.

Amy boxed up a Cinnamon Crunch donut, then handed it over to her. “Thank you, come again.”

“You’re a natural at this,” Heather said. The bakery was busy again. Another bustling day in Donut Delights. Too many donuts to count, the scent of cinnamon and rich coffee beans on the air.

Luckily, she’d had enough in her business account to pay for the repairs. Though Heather had thought the damages would’ve racked up a high price. It turned out the only repairs needed were the front windows, a mixer in the kitchen, and half a dozen decorative vases. The register had withstood Goldie’s rage. The boards were still scratched, though.

“Business as usual,” Heather said. “Though, I don’t know if ‘usual’ is the right word for this bakery.”

Amy laughed at that observation. “Not with you at the helm.”

Eva entered the store and waved at them from below the tinkling bell. “Hello, dearies.”

“Hey, Eva, come on over and get your order.” Amy flitted from behind the register to the coffee machine. She loaded it up with grounds and set to work.

Eva shuffled up to the counter, then placed her purse on top of it. “Look at her go. Amy, you’re terribly good at this. I bet Heather’s happy she hired you.”

Both Heather and Amy stopped moving, their cheeks flushed.

“I didn’t think of that,” Heather muttered. “But that’s a brilliant idea.”

“Those are the only kind I have,” Eva replied, and accepted her donut on a plate from Amy.

“How do you feel about that, Ames?” Heather turned to her bestie. “I’ve meant to hire someone for a while, and you’ve just had a lot of time freed up.”

“I, are you sure?” Amy asked, and her lips wriggled at the offer. “I’d love to have something to do, and I do love your donuts, so much. It would be great to work in Donut Delights, for now, I mean, until I’m back on track.”

“You could stay on permanently, too. Either way. I’d be happy to have you,” Heather replied.

Amy threw her arms around Heather and drew her into a lung-creaking hug.

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Eva said, “but I must have my coffee fix, or I might expire.”

“That would be a tragedy,” Amy replied, gravely. She finished off Eva’s black coffee and handed it over.

Eva opened her purse to pay, but Heather waved her off. “Not today, Mrs. Schneider. Today, your wise words have saved me a lot of time. It’d probably have taken ages to find a new staff member I trust with Donut Delights.”

Eva pursed her lips but didn’t argue. She shuffled to her spot in the sun, the table permanently reserved for Heather’s favorite customer, and sat down. She reached into her purse and brought out a book with a cupcake on the front cover.

“I wonder what she’s ready.”

“Looks like something yummy,” Heather replied.

Her phone rang in her pocket, and her heart leaped into her throat. Heather whipped out her cell and swiped her thumb across the screen without checking the caller ID. “Hello?”

“It’s me,” Ryan said.

“And? What happened? Don’t you dare hold out on me, Shepherd.” Heather crossed her fingers and her toes, for that matter.

“They found him. Lilly’s safe. She’s with Pam, and she’s heading back to her foster home, now.”

Relief shuddered through Heather, and she grappled at the stool behind her. Amy helped her into it, mouthing, “I told you so,” as she did.

“Thank goodness. Oh, that’s fantastic news. And Larry? He’s in custody?”

“Yeah, they’re processing all the evidence, but it looks like an open and shut case. The captain is furious with Davidson.”

“But he’s the one who let him take the case in the first place,” Heather replied.

“I know, right? Well, they’re talking suspension for Davidson, because he went on a wild goose chase and totally messed it all up. I don’t know what’s going to happen to the cap, but I’ve caught wind of a few mutterings. An internal investigation is the phrase on most lips down here,” Ryan said. His businesslike tone was tinged with relief.

She didn’t blame him for that. Davidson’s arrival at the department had tarnished Ryan’s record of clean investigations.

“I’ve heard rumors,” Ryan said, “that Davidson might be a distant cousin or the like. Cap is gonna be in a world of pain if that one’s true.”