Green Velvet Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 16 (4 page)

Heather, Amy, and Dave trotted up the
short path, which twined from the cracked sidewalk and halted in front of the
door to Tiny Tim Belushi’s home.

“It’s neat,” Amy said and raised both
eyebrows. She readjusted her grip on Dave’s leash, then scratched her nose.
“Usually, the bad guys live in dumps.”

“You can’t judge a book by its
grime-stained cover,” Heather replied. She stopped in front of the pale, gray
door and stared at the brass knocker attached to it. “I wonder what we’re about
to find out.”

“How did you find this place, anyway?”
Amy asked, then glanced over her shoulder at the street.

Cars rushed by, headlights on beneath
the canopy of darkening clouds.

“I asked around in the store. You know
what the gossips are like in this town. The Belushi's are new, and that means
they’re the talk of Hillside. I barely had to say Tim’s name, and I had his
home address scrawled on a napkin.” She took the napkin out of her pocket and
wagged it at Amy.

“Despicable,” Amy said, in a Daffy
Duck voice.

Dave barked at her, then got down on
all fours and put his paws over his ears.

“Everybody’s a critic.” Amy nudged the
dog with the toe of her stylish, ankle boot. “Hey, don’t you have a meeting
with that Tombs guy today?”

“In an hour. Plenty of time to get
this done, then get back to the bakery for donuts and business.”

“Those always mix well,” Amy said,
somberly.

Heather lifted the brass knocker and
dropped it against the wood. One time, two and three.

“Comin’!” A woman yelled inside,
muffled by the door. “Just hold on one hot second. Everyone in this stupid town
is so impatient.”

“That’s a good start,” Amy whispered.
Dave got up from his embarrassed position on the stones in front of the house.
He backed into Amy’s legs and sat down on her boot. “Really, Dave?”

He didn’t budge.

A lock scraped back, and the door
swung inward. A tall blonde woman appeared. She poked her face through the gap,
then looked them up and down. “You’re not a cop,” she said.

“Heaven forbid,” Amy replied. “I hear
they get paid next to nothing.”

Heather elbowed her bestie. “No, I’m
not. I came looking for Tiny. Is he here?”

“Pfft, you and everybody else are
lookin’ for him.” The woman wiped her palm down the side of her pants, then
stuck it out for a shake. “Lavender’s, my name. Like the girl from Harry
Potter.”

“Didn’t take you for a Pothead,” Amy
replied.

“’Scuse me?” Lavender asked and
snapped her arm back to her side.

“Potterhead, I mean. Everyone’s so
touchy.”

Heather held her giggles in, then
shuffled forward a step. “You say everyone’s looking for Tiny?”

“Yeah, he ran off yesterday. Left me
because he couldn’t handle the pressure of being with someone so tall. That was
his excuse,” she said and sniffed. “I’m not buying it. He’s in trouble, isn’t
he?”

“I’m not at liberty to say,” Heather
replied.

“I am!” Amy lifted her finger into the
air. “And yeah, he’s probably in trouble. May we come in?”

Lavender stared at Amy for a moment.
She twitched her nose. “Sure, why not. I’ve got nothing to hide, even if he
does. Good for nothing. Short.” Lavender turned and retreated into the
interior, grumbling expletives.

Amy and Heather exchanged a glance.
“Well, well, looks like Tiny’s got a gift for turning friends into enemies,”
Heather said, then stepped over the threshold of the suspected burglar’s house.

She touched the clip on her bag. She’d
brought the Taser, just in case, and she pinned the tote to her side.

“That’s not a great gift to have.” Amy
led Dave inside, and his claws scraped on the wooden boards in the hall. He had
the sense to keep his barks to himself, for once. And he hadn’t growled at
Lavender. That had to be a good sign.

Heather entered the living room. She
blinked at the change in light, from the dark hall to the fluorescents, which
buzzed and clicked overhead.

Lavender hovered beside a box in the
corner and dumped personal belongings – a stack of Cosmos – into it.

“So, Tiny came back and then broke up
with you?”

“Yeah, he was all cut up and angry. He
told me that his problems were my fault. That I was too tall. Everyone’s too
tall for him in life,” Lavender said, then shook her head. “I’ve only known him
a couple of weeks, but he’s been super insecure the entire time.”

“I see,” Heather replied. “Did Tiny
bring anything back with him?”

Lavender stopped flapping the
magazines into the box. “Funnily enough, yeah. He always brings home the
weirdest stuff. Yesterday was a TV, a couple of days before that was a kid’s
bike. I thought maybe he couldn’t fit on an adult bike, you know? So I didn’t
make a big deal out of it.”

“Where’s the bike?” Heather asked.

Lavender pointed to a door, which led
from the hall. “In his bedroom.”

“I’ll call Ryan,” Amy said, then
whipped out her phone. “You stay right where you are, Lavender. You need to
talk to the police.”

“Whatever you say,” Lavender replied,
then picked up a Cosmo. She licked her thumb and flicked through the pages.
“Like I said, I’ve got nothing to hide.”

Heather hurried to the bedroom, heart
pounding in her throat. Tiny had broken into Bill and Colleen’s. The bike was
the last sliver of evidence.

She clicked on the light switch, and a
dim yellow bulb flickered to life on the ceiling.

The bike sat against one wall. Pink
tassels protruded from the ends of the handlebars, and an ‘L’ decorated the
puffy, pearlescent seat.

“Yes,” Heather said, under her breath.
Lilly’s bike. And this wasn’t part of a murder investigation, which meant Ryan
would return it to her, promptly.

Heather’s phone alarm tinkled. “Time
to head back,” she said.

“What was that?” Amy asked. She
propped her arm against the doorjamb. “Hey, you found Lilly’s bike.”

“I’ve got that meeting soon, I’ve got
to get back to Donut Delights. Now.”

“I’ll stay behind and wait for Ryan to
get here,” Amy said. Dave will wait with me.”

“Thanks. You two are life savers,”
Heather said. She gave Amy a  hug, then Dave a head scratch. Two minutes later,
she was out the door and down the road, nerves jangling.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet with me
here,” Heather said and shifted in her high-backed leather chair. The familiar
surrounding soothed her nerves.

She hummed Animals by Maroon 5. It’d
been on the radio this morning, and she couldn’t get the tune out of her head.

“It’s my pleasure. I wanted to get a
feel for your establishment,” Ronald said. “I worried that you wouldn’t have
the family atmosphere I’m after.”

“And? What have you discovered.”

Ronald Tombs straightened his silver
tie and glanced around Heather’s small office. His gaze rested on the window,
the view of trees beyond it, and smiled. “It’s better than what I hoped for.
You have a lovely store.”

“Thank you,” Heather said, pleasure
flushing through her neurons. A dopamine rush. Oh yeah, if this went well, who
knew what would become of Donut Delights? “I’ve worked very hard to maintain
this atmosphere.”

“That’s important in any business. One
drop of lemon sours the milk,” Tombs replied. “I’ve seen employees turn against
their bosses. I’ve seen customers leave because of a negative setting. I’ve
seen,” Ronald paused, then chuckled. “Let’s just say I’ve seen many things.”

“I’m very protective over Donut
Delights and my customers. I’ve started expanding online, but I wanted to
preface this conversation by telling you that nothing will change my mind on
one issue.”

“And what’s that?”

“I want the small town feel in my
store for the rest of my life. I won’t skimp on service because that’s what I’m
known for. My creative ideas are my own. I won’t change my recipes for
anything.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ronald said and
patted the air. “That’s more than one thing. Let me assure you, Mrs. Shepherd,
I have no intention of changing your business’s ethical code or the value of
the products you put out.”

“Then what are you interested in?”
Heather asked, and held her breath. This was it. The moment she’d been waiting
for. An entire week since he’d stormed into her shop and suggested he invest.
Now, she’d finally know why and what for.

Ronald Tombs grasped an invisible
ball, then expanded it. “Scaling. I want to help you take your business from
online and local, to national, perhaps even international one day.”

“I don’t know how I’d manage that.
We’re just a bakery.”

“You’re just a unique bakery serving a
quality product which brings your customers back, time and time again,” Ronald
said. He grabbed his mug of coffee then drew fluid into his mouth. He swallowed,
noisily.

Heather’s stomach sank. “Look, I had
an order for five hundred donuts last week, and I barely managed to complete
it. I had to close down the store to local customers for a day because of it.”

“That’s where I come in,” Ronald
replied. He scrunched forward on the chair. “What if I told you that I could
help you fill orders that size, even bigger, say a thousand? And still keep the
store open to the residents of this fine town?”

Heather’s jaw flapped up and down.
“I’d say, well, I’d say… where do I sign?” She burst into laughter. Her nerves
had reached their peak and had been replaced by excitement.

“Wonderful. I’m going to set up a
formal meeting back at Tombs Towers. We’ll discuss this fully, draw up a
contract, go into details about costs of expansion and the amount to be
invested.”

“This is huge,” Heather said.

Ronald Tombs rose from his seat and
checked the sleeves of his suit. “Donut Delights will be huge. Thank you for
your time, Mrs. Shepherd.”

Heather leaped from her seat and stuck
out her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Tombs. You’re the one who deserves all my
gratitude.”

He shook on it, another of those firm,
respectable grips, then turned on his heel and let himself out of the office.

Heather stared after him.
Unbelievable. She’d been scared of alienating her local customers, and this man
had appeared out of nowhere to help her out. She walked out of her office and
through the bustling interior of her favorite place in the world.

She stopped at Eva’s table – empty for
once – and looked out at the street, eyes glazed over. Wonderment pulsed
through her soul.

 A new and improved Donut Delights.

Heather’s gaze roved the street. She
froze and did a double-take. A white Ford Fiesta was parked directly across the
road from her store. Windows tinted. Headlights on.

The engine purred to life, and the car
tore out of the parking space, then disappeared down the road, leaving fumes in
its wake.

What on earth? That’s looked just like
Davidson’s car. The same Detective Davidson who’d tried to arrest her for a
crime she hadn’t committed.

Heather’s excitement fizzled out.

The murder case had only begun, and
she didn’t have a real lead. Success in one arena didn’t equate to success in
every other. Heather’s phone buzzed. She whipped it out of her pocket, swiped
through to her messages, then groaned.

On my way back to your house. Be ready
for leg day. Ryan’s taking the bike to Lilly. I can hear you groaning, by the
way. – Ames.

“No,” Heather said. She lay on the
floor and stared at the ceiling, sucking in deep breaths through her mouth. “I
refuse.”

“Come on, just five more squats and
we’re done for the day.”

“I see your five more squats and fold.
How about five donuts instead?” Heather asked.

Amy adjusted her headband and flicked
her short, blonde hair. “Heather, you were doing so well.”

“I never agreed to this level of
torture. I’m telling you, woman, I refuse.”

Dave barked from the sofa. He’d spent
their entire workout session, staring and whining.

“That bark better have been in my
favor, Dave.” Heather didn’t have the energy to wag her finger at him.

“Fine, lie there. Be lazy. But just so
you know, you’re looking thinner and healthier than ever.”

“I feel like I’ve got one foot in the
grave.”

Amy grabbed her water bottled off the
coffee table and glugged back some aqua. “That’s just how healthy people feel.”

“I’d prefer the donuts.”

Amy tapped her on the knee, then
shuffled to the sofa and sat down. Her bestie adjusted her loose shirt and
shorts, then sat back and closed her eyes. “I’m feeling it now.”

“I refuse!” Heather reiterated.

“Relax, we’re done for the day,” Amy
replied.

“Just checking.” Heather rolled onto
her stomach and stared at the window behind Dave’s head. The afternoon had sunk
its faded yellow claws into the landscape outside. Warmth radiated from the
street. The last throes of summer.

“So? What have we got so far?” Amy
asked.

“Huh?”

“The case, I mean. You’ve done a bit
of sleuth work. What have you figure out thus far?”

Heather managed a half crawl, half
shuffle to the sofa. She dragged herself onto it, and Dave promptly laid his head
in her lap. “I’ve got nothing.”

“What? Impossible. Heather Shepherd,
sleuth extraordinaire without a lead? I refuse to believe it. You're just
negative because of all the squats.”

“My legs are on fire,” Heather
muttered. “But I'm not negative. Think about it. We have two main suspects.
Karly, who clearly despised her sister and didn’t seem all that unhappy about
her death.”

“Yeah, and the thief. Her son.” Amy
whipped her headband off and dropped it onto the sofa cushion next to her. “I
don’t see how a son would kill his mother.”

“Really? Pops Polinski killed Jelly,
his own daughter. Last week, we had a guy kill Randy because he’d called an
exterminator on his rats. I don’t think any motivation will surprise me. People
are loco.”

“Cuckoo for cocoa puffs.”

“Precisely,” Heather replied. “But you
bring up a good point. I don’t have any evidence which connected Tiny with the
crime.”

“What about that velvet you found in
Geoff’s store?” Amy asked. “Karly had on black velvet when we spoke to her.
That’s technically a lead.”

“Tenuous at best,” Heather replied.
She scratched the back of Dave’s neck, and he flopped his tail back and forth
on the sofa. “We need more evidence.”

“More evidence, huh?” Amy wriggled her
nose. “Maybe you should speak to Geoff again. He’s a suspect, too.”

“I guess.”

Amy sat bolt upright and grabbed her
headband. She crumpled it up, then let it fall again. “Thief!”

“That’s uncalled for. You’re the one
who stole precious hours of my day for squats and lunges and those horrible
uppy down things.”

“Burpees,” Amy replied, “And that’s
not what I meant. Tiny’s a thief, right? Proven, for sure. And someone stole
the fudge balls from Geoff.”

“I used the word ‘tenuous’ already,
right? I’d hate to repeat myself.” Heather shook her head. “Ames, that’s a
vague connection. That’s like saying Dave likes donuts. Therefore he ate all
the donuts out of my fridge yesterday. We both know that was you.”

“I deny all allegations,” Amy said.
“But I get your point.”

Dave’s head popped up, and he sniffed
the air for the scent of fresh-baked or fried donuts. No luck. It was all
carrot sticks, water, and protein powder today.

“More evidence.” Amy swiped up her
headband and flopped it against her palm. “More evidence.”

“Unfortunately, saying it won’t make
it materialize.” Heather sighed and leaned her head back on the sofa. She
stretched her throat and eased breaths in and out of her nose. An Amy Yoga
trick.

“But what if it does? Let’s break it
down.”

“All right. Karly and Tiny are out
main suspects. Geoff can wait,” Heather said, then waved a palm. “He’s too
panicked to bother for now.”

“Tiny’s missing. Absent without
leave.”

“Right. And that leaves Karly,”
Heather replied. “What do we know about Karly?”

“Karly hated Bernie. She lives in a
brick-faced building. She wears black velvet. She likes hazelnut cappuccinos,”
Amy said, then chuckled. “Yeah, that doesn’t help much, does it?”

“Wait a second, what did you just
say?”

“She wears black velvet?”

“No, about the coffee.” Heather sat
straight and met Amy’s gaze. “How do you know that?”

“Because I served her at the store?
Remember?” Amy blinked at her. “What, you look like you’ve seen the ghost of
donut past?”

Heather hopped off the sofa. Dave
scrambled up with her. She groaned and gripped her thighs, then hobbled to the
entrance to her living room.

“What’s going on?”

“The cameras,” Heather said. “I
installed cameras in the store. We might be able to get something from them.
It’s not much, but it’s a lead.” She hunched over and stumbled to the entrance
hall table, then snatched up her keys.

“All right,” Amy said, then grabbed
the car keys from Heather’s outstretched palm. “But I’m driving.”

“Good. I don’t trust my legs to work.
Did I mention this is your fault?” Heather asked. Dave licked at her ankles,
but she didn’t have the will to bend down and stroke him on the head.

“Only like a billion times. Let’s go,
bestie.”