Green Velvet Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 16 (2 page)

Heather wormed around in her seat and
glared at the photos on the wall opposite.

“What’s wrong, love?” Ryan asked. He
grasped her hand and squeezed gently. “You’re never this anxious when there’s
Mexican food on the line.”

Amy sighed and leaned her head on
Kent’s shoulder. The happy couple sat in the love seat opposite Ryan and
Heather, their backs to the wall of photographs.

“It’s the case, isn’t it?” Ryan asked,
under his breath. Kent hadn’t been too close with his Aunts but discussing the
murder at dinner wasn’t the best idea.

“You can talk about,” Kent said and
reached for his soda. He lifted the glass to his lips and the ice clinked
inside. “I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Heather asked. She
stopped fidgeting right away. Geoff’s plea rang through her mind, over and over
again. The man might need help, but Bernie’s killer had to be brought to
justice.

For the sake of Hillside. And for Kent
and Amy too.

“I’m sure,” Kent replied. “I want to
know who did this and why. Aunt B was the nicest woman I ever met, present
company excluded.” He slipped his arm around Amy’s shoulders and hugged her to
his side.

“Weird,” Amy muttered.

“What?” Heather asked.

Her bestie flushed bright pink, then
cleared her throat. “I just meant, uh, ahem.”

“Uh, ahem? It’s all clear to me now,”
Heather replied.

Kent wiggled Amy against his side,
then kissed her on the top of the head. “It’s okay. You can say whatever you
have to say. I’ll understand.”

Amy’s flush faded, slowly. “I just
don’t understand how Bernie and Karly are related. Bernie is sweet and nice,
and Karly, well, you know.”

An Awkward silence spread across the
table. Heather and Ryan exchanged a glance.

“She’s crazy,” Kent said, then puffed
out his cheeks.

Everyone stared at him. Heather raised
her eyebrow. “What do you mean?” This might be her first lead in the case.

“She’s never approved of Amy, for one.
She’s a bitter old woman and she hated Bernie. Hated her with all her cold,
black, shriveled heart,” Kent said, then took another sip of his soda.

“Kent!” Amy hissed and swatted him on
the arm.

“I’m serious. You have no idea what
Karly put Bernie through.” Kent clammed his mouth shut.

The waiter arrived and placed a
platter of nachos in the center of the table. “Nachos to share,” she said, then
spread her arms. “The perfect appetizer. Are you folks interested in ordering
mains?”

“Not right this second, thanks,” Ryan
said, then turned his gaze on Kent. “You were saying?”

The waitress faded into the
background, her cheesy smile slipping from her lips.

“Is this on or off the record?” Kent
asked, looking from Heather to Ryan and then back again. “I suppose it doesn’t
matter. I’d have to tell the cops about it anyway. There was no love lost
between my aunts. Their rivalry stretched back years.”

“What started it?” Heather asked. Her
arms tensed. Ryan massaged her neck, but his grip was tight. He wanted leads
too.

“Something about a boyfriend. I don’t
know, exactly. It was a high school feud involving Tiny’s father.”

“Tiny?” Ryan and Heather asked in
unison.

“Of course, there’s a guy named Tiny,”
Amy muttered. “He’s probably huge too. Just for the irony.”

“No, he’s really small.” Kent grinned.
“He’s my cousin. Real name is Tim Belushi. He came to town with Bernie.”

Heather made mental notes, then paused
and opened her handbag on her lap. No luck, she’d left her notepad back in the
office at Donut Delights.

“What does Tiny Tim have to do with
this?” Ryan asked.

Amy sniggered into her napkin, then
reached across the table and snatched up a nacho. She deposited into her mouth
and crunched on the tortilla chip.

“I don’t know how it all fits in, just
that Aunt Karly hates Tiny and Bernie would’ve done anything for her son. The
feud between Karly and Bernie kinda cooled off in the last couple years,
probably because they’re getting older and coming to their senses.”

Heather grunted, then covered it with
a cough. Apparently, the feud hadn’t cooled off at all – Bernie had been
murdered. Though, it was early to make those kinds of deductions.

Kent picked up a cheese-loaded
tortilla and gobbled it up. “I’m going to miss Bernie, but, ah never mind.”

“What?” Heather asked.

Amy licked off her fingers and turned
her attention to Kent, as well. She’d picked up the sleuthin’ bug, all right.

Kent finished off another chip, then
sniffed. “I didn’t want the Belushi family to follow me here. I wasn’t that
close with them. I get the feeling that they weren’t following me, they were
running from something.”

Heather opened her mouth to ask
another question –

“Are you folks ready to order?” Their
waitress asked, and whipped out her notepad – at least, she’d brought one.

“Yeah,” Amy said, around a mouthful of
tortilla chip. “I’d like the beef enchilada.”

Heather sat back and let the
conversation wash past her nose. “Running from something,” she said, under her
breath.

This was an investigation in the
making, and Heather had her first lead.

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,”
Amy whispered, then tightened her limpet-grip on Heather’s right arm. “I don’t
want to be here.”

“Come on, Ames, grow a backbone. I’ve
never seen you act like this before.”

“Oh yeah? Well, you didn’t have to sit
through an introductory dinner with the woman and listen to her list everything
that was wrong with you,” Amy replied. She detached from Heather’s arm, though,
and brushed off the donut crumbs on her silk blouse.

“What? Where was Kent?” Heather asked.
She clenched her fists and stared at the brick face of the house. They’d
dropped off Dave at Lilly’s place for a play date, and they had the afternoon
to themselves. Investigation time.

“He was in the kitchen helping Bernie
with the dinner. You should’ve seen her, Heather. Aunt Karly had her feet up
and her wits out. Man, she told me exactly why I wouldn’t make it in their
family. Talking like Kent was a Belushi, not a Bentley. Ugh.”

Clouds scudded across the azure sky
and blocked the sun. Shadow darkened the sidewalk and the gated front garden. A
cherry tree stood solitary, leaves unmoving.

“She’s a bully,” Heather said. “I
could tell from the conversation with her in Donut Delights. You know what that
means, right?”

“No, but I know you’re gonna tell me,”
Amy replied, and tucked her thumbs into the belt loops of her jeans.

“It means she’s insecure or hurt on
the inside. She’s weak. I intend on exploiting that weakness,” Heather said,
through gritted teeth.

“Oh boy, she brought out the worst in
you.”

“I don’t mean it in a vindictive way.
I’m a pretty good judge of character, and I know I’ll be able to get info out
of her because of that. That’s all,” Heather replied. She jerked her head
toward the house. “You ready for this, bestie?”

“Define ready,” Amy said, tapping her
lips. “Do you mean terrified? Because then, yeah, I guess I am ready.”

“Good,” Heather replied.

She marched up to the low-slung gate,
then clicked it open and hurried up the paved path to the front stairs. She
clomped up them, her heart beating a little faster than usual.

Amy joined her on the porch, pale
around the lips and breathing hard.

“Relax, it’s not like she’s a –”

“Serial killer?” Amy suggested.
“Because isn’t that why we’re here?”

Heather slapped Amy on the upper arm,
but laughed, anyway. She pressed her lips together and hummed Cry Me a River by
Justin Timberlake.

“Really?” Amy asked. “JT?”

“Don’t judge it. Appreciate it,”
Heather replied. She rammed her finger into the metal knob next to the door.

Karly Belushi’s doorbell screamed
their arrival. The shrill ring had to be the most annoying noise Heather’s ears
had picked up.

Amy winced. Heather shook her head to
the left and closed one eye.

“Wow, that seems unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary should be Karly’s middle
name,” Amy said.

The door swung inward and the woman of
the hour appeared, outfitted in black velvet. 

Amy jumped and landed, arms out. “Aunt
Karly,” she said, in a high-pitched voice. “How are you today?”

“What are you doing here?” Karly
asked, and adjusted her black, mesh pillbox hat.

A hat, indoors? Bernie’s memorial
service wasn’t for another two days.

“We’ve come to check on you, Mrs.
Belushi,” Heather said.

“Miss!” Karly snapped. “I am Miss
Belushi. I never married, no small thanks to Bernadette for that.”

Amy shrank back a step. Heather moved
forward, then placed her palm on the doorjamb. “Miss Belushi, I wanted to offer
you my condolences and my services,” Heather said.

Amy gasped. Heather didn’t have her
diploma yet. She wasn’t licensed to investigate in a professional capacity.

“Your services?” Karly raised an
eyebrow and peered past Heather to Amy. “What’s your problem?”

“My services, yeah,” Heather said and
drew the older woman’s attention back to her before Amy had a heart attack on
the spot. “I look into these kinds of affairs, casually. In a personal
capacity. I’m not a cop or anything, but I’ve helped a few people clear their
names from the suspect list. Innocents, much like yourself.”

“Excuse me?” Karly asked and grasped
at her black velvet shirt. “What are you saying?”

“That you’re a suspect,” Heather
replied, coolly. “It’s only a matter of time before the police arrive to
interview you. If they haven’t already.”

Karly smacked her lips, opened them,
then shut them again. Oh yeah, the cops had already visited Miss Belushi. “You
get people off that suspect list?”

“That’s right,” Heather replied, and
plastered up a sunny – albeit strained – smile.

This woman had the worst atmosphere.
Mean, cold and countless other descriptors which Heather didn’t care to think
about.

“Okay,” Karly said, at last. “Not that
I believe you’ll get it right since you’re friends with such a useless –”

“What can you tell me about your
relationship with Bernie?” Heather asked, and waved her hand to cut Karly’s
insult down the middle. How dare she try to bully Amy in the middle of an
interview?

Karly hiccupped, and a single tear
rolled down her cheek. It ran a track through the layer of thick makeup. “She
was my sister. I loved her. What more is there to say?”

“Did you and Bernie ever argue?”

“No, of course not. Bernie was a
gentle soul. She didn’t have the heart to stand up to anyone.”

Heather nodded once. A clipped off bob
of the head. “I understand. Could you tell me –” Her phone rang in her pocket
and buzzed against her hip. “One second,” Heather said.

Karly pursed her lips. “I don’t have
time for this. I have a funeral to organize.” She slammed her front door
closed, then clicked the lock.

“Told you,” Amy said.

Heather scrambled her phone out of her
pocket, then swiped her thumb across the screen. “Hello?”

“Shepherd,” Geoff said. “I found
something in the store. You’ve got to come check it out, now.” He hung up.

Heather dropped the phone from her ear
and stared at the screen. “Has everyone lost their manners? Slamming doors,
hanging up in the middle of a conversation.”

“Calling people ‘useless,’” Amy added.

“Right,” Heather said, then glanced at
Belushi’s front door. “We’ve got places to be and a baker to investigate. Are
you with me?”

“Anything’s better than this,” Amy
replied. She shuddered and flapped her hand in front of her face.

“Don’t be such a drama queen.” Heather
slipped her arm through her bestie’s and dragged her back down the front
stairs, then off to the sidewalk.

Delightful Donuts had seen better
days. The sign above the door hung askew, the front door’s bottom hinge creaked
each time the wind gusted against the wood and glass, and the windows, oh boy,
coated in grime.

“Who eats at this place?” Amy asked,
and mock stuck her finger down her throat.

“Careful, if Geoff sees you do that,
he might try to feed you one of his rock hard fudge balls.”

“I’d rather die,” Amy replied, then
gulped. “That was in poor taste wasn’t it?”

“Not as bad as the taste of his
donuts.”

“Stop, you’re going to make me gag
again,” Amy whispered.

The front door slammed, and Geoff
strode out to meet them, wringing his massive hands. “What took you so long,
Shepherd?”

“Because that’s the way you talk to the
woman who’s about to help you out,” Amy said, loudly, all the fear from the
past half hour absent. “The same woman you’ve tried to steal from and mimic in
business.”

Geoff beckoned for Heather to follow
him.

Amy bristled and rammed her fists onto
her hips. “He’s ignoring me. Geoff Lawless is ignoring me.”

“I don’t think your unique brand of
sarcasm is appreciated at Delightful Donuts,” Heather muttered, then worked her
jaw. Just the name of the place gave her the creeps. Way too close to home.

Heather shrugged, then followed Geoff
through the front door of his bakery and across the main room. It was empty of
customers, probably because he’d closed the place for the day, and she skirted
around the spot on the floor where she’d found Jelly Polinksi’s body a couple
of weeks prior.

“Is it just me, or does everyone in
this town die?” Amy whispered, through the dust and scent of sticky, sweet
glaze.

“Where, in Hillside?”

“Yeah,” Amy replied.

“Everybody dies,” Heather muttered. “I
mean, in general. Our days are all numbered.”

“And on that bombshell, it’s back to
our scheduled investigation,” Amy said, in a faux announcer voice.

“What are you doing?” Geoff growled,
from the kitchen doorway. “Get back here.”

“He’s not great at being polite.” Amy
traipsed up behind Heather and tailed her into the kitchen.

Shivers spread up Heather’s limbs and
into her core. Steel tables lined the walls, and a steel sink stood in the
center of the room. A huge faucet hung up the basin, dripping water. Drip,
drop, drip.

Amy dug her nails into Heather’s
shoulders. “This is the kitchen of a bakery? It looks more like a, a –”

“Slaughterhouse,” Heather finished,
for her.

They shuddered at the same time.

Geoff didn’t notice. He tugged at the
end of his beard, then pointed at the window beside his back door. It had four
spaces for panes and only three dirty glass plates. The fourth had been knocked
out.

“Someone broke in.” Geoff paced back
and forth, still tugging at that long, brown beard. “They broke in here. I bet
they stole some of my fudge balls.”

“Wait a second. You’re suggesting that
someone broke into the store to steal your fudge balls and use them as a murder
weapon?” Heather asked, and walked to Geoff’s side.

“Well, they didn’t break in to eat
them, that’s for sure,” Amy replied.

Geoff ignored her for the second time
in as many minutes. “I’m telling the truth. I’ve already called the cops. I
won’t be framed for this murder. I refuse. I refuse!” He raised a finger and
swished it in the air above his head.

“Okay. It’s okay, Geoff, just calm
down,” Heather said. She whipped out her phone and hurried to the window.

Glass crunched underfoot, and she
skipped to one side, swiftly.

“The evidence! You’re tampering with
the evidence,” Geoff yelled.

“Oh my gosh, shut up,” Amy said.
“You’re freaking out. You know, for a huge muscly guy, you’re pretty skittish.”

Geoff rounded on Amy, shoulders as
tense as sticky dough. “What did you just say.”

“Hallelujah, I’m not invisible.” Amy
did a Mexican wave in celebration.

“Both of you keep it down,” Heather
said. “I think I’ve found something?”

“What is it?” Amy and Geoff asked, in
unison, then flinched and narrowed their eyes at each other.

Heather lifted her cell and opened her
camera app. She directed the lens at the window frame, then snapped a couple of
pics. “It’s velvet,” she said. “It’s a piece of dark green velvet.”

Geoff and Amy hurried to her side and
leaned in to get a closer look.

The swatch of material flapped in the
breeze speared on the end of a jagged piece of glass.

“The thief wore velvet?” Geoff asked.

“That’s what it looks like,” Heather
replied. “I’m not an expert on this kind of thing, though.” Already, her mind
fluttered through the possibilities.

What if Karly Belushi’s black velvet
outfit hadn’t been black, but dark green?

“Knock, knock,” Ryan said, from the
door. “I received a call about a burglary?”

“Yeah, that was from me,” Geoff
replied, then turned to face Heather’ husband. He paled at the sight of him –
they’d had a run-in at a doggy play park a couple of weeks prior – then cleared
his throat. “Someone’s trying to frame me for that Belushi woman’s murder.”

“That or they got sloppy,” Heather
said. “And sloppy means desperate.”

Amy linked her arm through Heather’s
and drew her aside. “But who would be desperate to kill Bernie? And why?”

Heather ran her teeth across her
bottom lip, then glanced at her handsome hubby dearest. “I have no idea,”
Heather replied. “But I plan to find out.”

Geoff shook his fist nearby. “It was
the murderer, I tell you. The murderer was in my store!”