Green Velvet Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 16 (5 page)

Heather squished herself into her
office chair, then dragged the laptop across the desk.

Amy tugged the chair from the front
around to her side. “I’m tingling with excitement. That might be the after
exercise glow, though.” She plopped into her chair.

“Or, you know, the lactic acid raging
through our muscles,” Heather replied.

Amy nudged her. “Come on, let’s check
it out. I can’t wait another second.”

Heather bit her lip. Crickets chirped
outside the window, and a soft, breeze twirled through the office, bringing the
scents of late afternoon and early evening. An amalgamation of residential
smells and dark earth, green leaves.

Serenity.

“Did I stutter?” Amy asked.

“Oh relax, I’m getting there,” Heather
replied. She clicked through to the copies of the surveillance ‘tapes’ from the
last week.

Truthfully, nothing was taped in the
traditional sense anymore. The cameras in Donut Delights were linked to a hard
drive or a drop box account or – she couldn’t begin to sound smart. Ken had
sorted the whole system out for her.

Heather scrolled through the files,
then found the one from the Monday. “This is it.”

“They came in bright and early. It
shouldn’t take too long to find.” Amy clasped her hands together and rested
them against the edge of the desk. “I’m nervous. Why am I so nervous?”

“You’re not used to the pressures of
an investigation,” Heather replied, sagely.

“Whatever,” Amy said. “I managed the
whole disgusting rat thing, just fine.”

“True.” Heather clicked through the
first hour or so of surveillance after Jung, Ken and Angelica had come in for
work.

Amy appeared on the screen. She gave
Maricela a thumbs up, then disappeared into the kitchen.

“Stealing donuts?” Heather asked.

“Hey, you give us an allowance of one
a day,” Amy replied. “And I may have bought two others that morning. Who’s
judging?”

Heather chuckled, then focused on the
screen. “Oh, here they come. Here they are!”

Bernie and Karly entered the store.
Karly burst through first, chattering nonstop, and dearly departed Bernadette
followed, nodding once or twice. They took a seat at the table beside Eva’s.

“Oh, and here’s the part where Karly
sees me,” Amy muttered.

On screen, Amy froze mid-order behind
the register. She raised a hand, waved, then dropped it to her side.

“I’m already quaking in fear at this
point.”

“Drama, drama,” Heather muttered.

Onscreen Amy hurried to the table and
placed two cappuccinos or coffees in front of either woman.

Karly gave her the once over.

“I hate it when she does that,” Amy
muttered.

Bernie got up from the table and
walked out of sight, probably to the ladies room. Karly whipped out a flask and
poured clear liquid into Bernadette’s coffee, looked around once, then stowed
the flask back in her pocket.

“What the –?”

“She spiked her.” Amy slammed her hand
over her lips. “Now, do you see why I’m terrified of the woman? She spiked her
drink!”

“I saw it.” Heather nodded. “I saw it
all right. Looks like we’re going to have to pay Karly Belushi another visit.”

“And forward this to Ryan, right?” Amy
asked.

“That’s right.” Heather whipped out
her phone, then swiped through to her messaging application.

Got new evidence in the Belushi murder
case. File too big to email. Will bring laptop home. Surveillance from the
store shows Karly poured something in Bernie Belushi’s drink.

Heather sent the text, then slammed
the lid of the laptop shut.

“You should never do that. Isn’t that
bad for the computer?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care, right
now. We’ve got an old, grumpy lady to interview,” Heather replied, and rose
from her leather office chair.

“Do we gotta?” Amy whined, in true
Dave style. Dave without a donut on a brisk walk.

“Yeah, we gotta. Put on your big girl
panties, Ames. It’s sleuthin’ time.”

They hurried out of the store, Heather
locked up behind them, then got into Heather’s car. Amy kept her silence.
Heather hummed along to the radio, something about Nae Nae and whipping, then
started the car.

“I can’t believe the music these
days,” Heather muttered.

“You don’t seem to mind humming it.
Besides, it’s kinda of catchy,” Amy replied.

“Catchy like the common cold.”

They drove down the road, took a left,
right, left, then sailed to a halt in front of Karly Belushi’s house. They
stared up at the brick face. Two windows glinted yellow from the lights inside.

Amy gulped. Heather patted her
forearm. “Don’t worry, honey, I’m right here. I’ll protect you from the big,
bad witchy poo,” Heather said, in a baby voice.

“Whatever,” Amy replied, and shrugged
her off.

They got out of the car. Heather
marched up the path, determination burning in her muscles. Nope, that was the
lactic acid from leg day. At least, she could walk this time.

Heather stopped on the porch, raised
her fist and knocked.

Amy hovered behind her, flitted back a
step, then forward, then back.

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Heather
hissed.

“I can’t help it.”

The door swung inward, and Karly
appeared, hair in curlers, robe gathered at her throat. Fluffy slippers
completed the look. “You again.”

“Heather, actually.” She smiled and
nodded once. “I’m the one helping to clear your name?”

“Yeah,” Karly grunted and shifted the
door so that a sliver of her face peered through the crack.

“Except, I don’t think I should clear
your name anymore. I want the truth, Miss Belushi,” Heather said, and slapped
her palm against the door.

Karly flinched. Amy gasped.

Good cop, bad cop, indeed.

“The truth?”

“Yeah. Why did you spike your sister’s
coffee at Donut Delights on the morning of her murder?”

Karly paled. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Heather replied, and
placed light pressure on Miss Belushi’s front door.

They’d lucked out on this lead. She
had to follow through.

“How dare you accuse me of –”

“I have the surveillance recordings to
prove it,” Heather replied. “I’m forwarding them to the police. Start talking.”

Amy appeared in her peripheral vision,
shaking her head on repeat. “Heather,” she groaned.

“Oh, you want me to start talking,”
Karly said, her tone deepening.

“That’s right,” Heather replied, and
dropped her arm to her side.

“Then read my lips. Get off my
property!” Karly slammed the door shut in her face.

Heather flinched back and rubbed her
nose. “Hey, she got me.”

“Of course, she got you. She’s a
psycho,” Amy whispered.

“I dare you to knock and tell her
that.”

“Sure, just let me call my lawyer to
draw up my last will and testament, real quick.” Amy jerked her thumb toward
the street. “Please, please can we go now? I hate this place. I bet she’s got a
shotgun in there.”

Heather hooked her arm through Amy’s
and led her back down the stairs. “All right, we’ll go. I’ve got to talk to
Ryan, anyway, and –”

Heather cut off and narrowed her eyes
at a bush nearby. The branches cracked and waved in the purple dusk light.

Amy dug her fingernails into Heather’s
arm. “What is that?”

“If it’s rats, I’m done.”

“Shoot,” Heather said. “I left my
Taser in the car.”

The bush wiggled, waggled, then went
still. Heavy breathing emanated from between the branches.

Adrenaline rushed through Heather’s
veins. Someone was in that bush, and she’d bet her last Green Velvet donut that
they had a stake in Bernie Belushi’s murder case.

“What are you waiting for?” Amy asked,
tremoring from head to toe. “Go get it.”

“I can’t Taser a bush, Ames. And I’m
not going near it until whoever’s in there comes out.” Heather narrowed her eyes.
She glanced up at Karly’s house.

Amy’s shotgun insinuation had sunk in.
What if Karly charged out of there, fully loaded and ready to go?

“Uh, something’s happening,” Amy said,
in a squeak to rival a rat. Ew, rats. Blegh.

Heather focused on the bush again. The
top of a head appeared. Two bright eyes stared at them.

“Come out of there,” Heather said. “If
you don’t, I’m going to get my Taser out.”

The eyes blinked.

“This is creepier than the rats,” Amy
whispered.

“Nothing is creepier than a hundred
pet rats. You’re mistaken.” Heather raised her voice. “You’re not coming out?
Fine. The Taser it is, then, and after that, I’ll be calling my husband. He's a
detective at the local PD.”

The bush shivered.

Heather made for the car door.

“Wait,” the bush grumbled. “Wait, I’m
stuck. I mean no harm.”

“That voice,” Amy said. “Is that?”

“Geoff.” Heather turned back to the
bush, then walked up to it. She stopped in front of its quaking leaves. “What
on earth are you doing, Lawless? You scared the lactic acid outta me.”

“Lactic acid?” He grumbled, and those
bright eyes glared up at her.

“Never mind. Give me your hand. I
doubt I can pull you out, but you can use the leverage.”

Geoff’s massive hand scraped between
the leaves. Heather took it, then backed off and gave a test tug.

“Ouch,” Geoff said. The lampposts
clicked on alongside the street and his baldpate glinted by their light.

“Don’t be such a baby,” Heather said.
“Okay, on the count of three.”

Amy’s hands grasped Heather’s waist.
“I’ll help. We ready?”

“Ready,” Heather replied.

Geoff grunted instead of speaking.

“One. Two. Three!”

Amy tugged on Heather’s waist. Heather
pulled at Geoff’s sausage fingers and ham palm. Lawless growled and popped free
of the bush, showering leaves to the sidewalk and garden.

The momentum sent Amy to the concrete.
Heather sat down heavily beside her and grazed her wrists.

Amy sighed, then sat up. “So, I’ve
been thinking they should turn our lives into a movie. Or a book. This kind of
stuff doesn’t happen to normal people.”

“Then I’m glad to be weird,” Heather
replied. She scrambled to her feet – no helpful offer from Geoff forthcoming –
and brushed off her workout shirt.

“What are you doing here, Lawless?”
Heather asked in-between huffs of breath.

The big fella looked up at the house,
then met her gaze. He scratched at his beard, extracted a leaf and flicked it
to the ground.

“Answer me,” Heather replied.

“I’m following a lead,” Geoff replied.

“A lead?” Amy shook her head. “There’s
only room for one amateur sleuth in this town, man. And she’s not you.”

“Geoff, you understand that I’m about
to be licensed to investigate, right? You’re jeopardizing this case by getting
in the way.” Great, now she sounded just like Ryan.

“You’re not doing it right,” Geoff
replied, in a caveman growl. “There’s been another break in, and you haven’t
investigated it yet. It’s connected to the murder. I know. I know.”

“All right,” Heather said. “Where’s
the break-in?”

“Bob’s Bug Debunkers,” Geoff replied.

“Oh no,” Amy whispered. “That’s a big
‘ol nope from me. Not going there. The last time –”

Heather waved her to silence. “Why
would someone break in there?”

“Dunno.”

“Wait, why are you here if there was a
break-in at the exterminator’s store?” Heather scratched her temple. “Geoff, you’d
better level with me. I can’t help you if you do this, oh so very Geoff kind of
stuff.”

“I don’t know what that means,”
Lawless said, and folded his arms.

“It means, keep your sticky fingers
out of the glaze or I’ll whack them with the back of a wooden spoon,” Heather
replied, twisting her lips to one side. “I’m not going to put up with your
interference. Why are you here?”

“Because this Karly woman was with
Bernadette at my store, the day of her murder,” Geoff replied. His muscles
strained at the hems of his sleeves. “They had an argument.”

“That doesn’t sound like Aunt B,” Amy
replied.

“Karly yelled at the victim, then
slapped her, then left. The victim left after that.” Geoff unfolded his arms.

“It’s creepy when you call her ‘the
victim,'” Amy said.

Heather stared up at Geoff, gaze
picking at the lines of his face, the sincerity in his eyes. “All right,” she
said, at last. “You get out of here. We’ve got this under control.”

“I don’t know about that,” he replied.

Amy snorted. “Says the guy in the
bush.”

Geoff turned on his heel, then loped
off down the sidewalk, toward the last sliver of the setting sun.