Illegally Iced (13 page)

Emma whistled softly. “And you let him leave without even giving him a limp?”

“The first one’s free,” I said. “After that, I’m not making any promises.”

“I wonder who sent him.”

“I’m afraid I know. James’s family is involved in this mess one way or the other. One thing’s certain. I know that he wasn’t here out of the goodness of his heart.”

“Are you certain he’s involved with James’s family?”

I decided to bring Emma up to date, despite my worries about her sharing it all with her father. It would make my life much too complicated to keep anything from her. After I told her, I asked, “Why else would he flinch when he heard Forrest’s name?”

“Maybe he’s had his own problems with the man in the past.”

“Perhaps,” I said. I knew that what Emma was saying could be right. If that were the case, who was this stranger, then? He’d made it a point not to offer me his card, and I got the impression that if I’d insisted, he would have refused. Could he be the mysterious cousin no one knew about? Somebody needed to look into that man’s story, but I didn’t have the resources to do it properly.

But I knew someone who did.

CHAPTER 8

I was happy when he picked up on the first ring. “Chief, a man in a three-piece suit just left the donut shop. He offered me five hundred dollars to talk about James Settle, but I refused. You might want to see what he’s up to if you get a chance.”

“Thanks, Suzanne, I’ll get right on it,” he said, and then hung up.

“Are you crazy?” my assistant asked me.

“What do you mean, Emma?”

“You just called our police chief for help. Are you feeling okay, Suzanne?”

“I’m fine. Think about it. I don’t have the resources to track this man down, and even if I could, I can’t force him to talk to me about what his interest is in James. On the other hand, it’s Chief Martin’s job to serve and protect us, right? I’m not afraid to give credit when it’s due, and he’s the most qualified person to find out what’s going on.”

“Wow, I need to write that down in my journal so I don’t forget today.”

I laughed at Emma and swatted at her gently with a towel I kept by the front register. “Don’t you have dishes to do?”

“Always; it’s a never-ending flow.”

“Then maybe you should get to them,” I said, smiling.

“Yes, ma’am.”

I was still wondering about what the man’s real motivations had been for asking about James when my book club came into the donut shop.

“Treats for all the girls are on me,” Jennifer said as she walked in, waving a hundred-dollar bill around the room. She was a redhead, and the leader of our little group.

“Including me?” Sally Wingate said from the counter. “I haven’t been called a girl in donkey years, but if you’re buying, I’ll take another bear claw.”

“Why not?” Jennifer said. “We’re celebrating.”

“How about the guys?” Nick Williams said from one corner.

I was about to hush him when Jennifer put the bill down on the counter. What was this, my day for hundreds?

“When this runs out, cut us off,” she said.

“Why the spurt of generosity?” I asked as I put the bill in the register.

“I’m a brand-new grandmother,” Jennifer explained happily. “But there’s a catch.”

“What’s that?”

“You all have to look at little Erica’s picture and tell me what a beautiful baby my daughter just had.”

She pulled out the photograph and I saw they’d caught the little angel sleeping. “I’m sure that you won’t have to pay anyone to say it. She’s truly gorgeous,” I said.

“Then be sure to save a donut or two for you and Emma,” Jennifer said. “Hazel, surely you can break your new diet just this once.”

Hazel was constantly trying to lose weight, always with very little success. She studied my display cases, and then said, “I’ll have a plain cake donut, please.”

“Are you sure that you wouldn’t like one with chocolate on it?” I asked. I knew she was counting calories, but I also knew from past experience with her that Hazel loved
anything
with chocolate on it.

“Why not?” she asked with a grin. “You twisted my arm.”

After my three other patrons were served their extra donuts, I saw Nick reaching for his cell phone. “You’d better not be calling your buddies and telling them about the free donuts,” I said with a smile.

“Would I do that?” he asked, doing his best, and failing, to look innocent.

“I’m betting the answer to that is yes.” I had visions of being mobbed, and after I rang up the donuts I’d given away, including ones for the other two members of our group—Hazel and Elizabeth—I rang up the total and brought Jennifer her change. “As much as we all appreciate the gesture, I don’t want a mob scene here, at least not if you’re interested in having our book club discussion today. Emma won’t be able to handle the rush by herself.”

“Would people really rush over here just for a free donut?”

I turned to Nick. “Do you have an answer to that question?”

“They would,” he admitted with a smile. “Suzanne was right. I was about to call my buddies, and they would have called theirs, and who knows where it would have ended.” He turned back to me and said, “Sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking.”

I smiled at him and got him another lemon-filled donut, his favorite, out of the case. “That one’s on me.”

“I won’t say no,” he said, laughing, and took the offering. “I’d better get out of here. I’m late for the gym as it is.”

“You’ll have to work out a lot harder today on our account.”

“Happy to do it,” he said.

I got Emma from the back, explained to her that the free donut run was over, and turned the front over to her. “Free donuts?” she asked.

“Jennifer was feeling generous, but we decided to limit the damage to her hundred dollars. She’s got a new granddaughter.”

Jennifer held the photo forward, and Emma said, “How sweet.”

After we settled in on the best couch and chairs, Jennifer started off the discussion by saying, “
The Killer’s Last Bite
is our book for today. I’ll lead off by saying this entry was a little less spectacular than
Gasp
in my opinion, but still quite a bit better than
Sigh
.”

“I’ll be honest with you,” I admitted. “I didn’t know this was a series when I started reading the book. I really enjoyed
Bite,
though. How does he keep writing about the same characters over and over again without getting stale?”

“I asked him that very same question last week,” Elizabeth said. She loved e-mailing authors, and we were all surprised by how many actually responded. I was always interested in the stories she told of their replies, but personally, I thought the writers were crazy to answer her.

“What did he say?” I couldn’t imagine what kind of mail they got, and I’d be afraid to open my in-box if I was one of them. I completely understood the ones who were recluses, free to write their stories without the prying eyes and probing questions of adoring readers. I was sure they appreciated each and every one of their fans, but how did they ever find time to write if they spent so much time answering all of their mail?

“He told me that the deeper he got into the series, the more aspects of his characters’ personalities he could explore. He also said that bringing in new characters occasionally, even if it was just to kill them off a few books later, was a way to keep the writing fresh for him.”

“That’s fascinating,” Hazel said as she took another small chipmunk bite of her donut.

“It is. But we were talking about
Bite
. Did anyone else find the culinary tie-in with this mystery a little distracting? I swear, there were more recipes than chapters in this book.”

“I thought they were delightful,” Elizabeth said. Whenever anyone said anything even remotely disparaging about one of our authors, she never failed to leap to defend them, as though they were all deep personal friends instead of the infrequent pen pals that they really were.

“What did you think about them, Suzanne?” Jennifer asked me. “You’re our resident food expert, and I’d love to get your take on it.”

“Hey, I’m a donutmaker, plain and simple.”

“That’s not an answer,” Hazel said with a smile. She delighted in zinging us occasionally, and I hadn’t felt like one of the crowd until she took a gentle shot at me one day.

“You’re right, it’s not,” I said with a grin. “I liked them, but then again, I waited until I finished the book before I read them all. They might have distracted me otherwise, but as it was, going over them after I read the book itself was like finding that last cupcake in the back of the fridge that you forgot all about until you stumble over it at midnight looking for a snack.”

“I adore cupcakes,” Hazel said dreamily.

I saw Elizabeth hide a smile as she said, “I never thought of reading it that way. I’m a slave to the page for some reason. I feel as though I have to read every last word in order, but you know what? Next time I’m going to try it your way. It wouldn’t take you out of the story that way, would it?”

“It seems to work for me,” I said. “What about the character named Michelle? She’s quite the siren, isn’t she?”

“That girl put the ‘bad’ in ‘bad girl,’” Jennifer said. “I just loved her.”

“Me, too,” I said. “I wish I had the nerve to say some of the things that come out of her mouth.”

“Don’t we all,” Elizabeth said. “Sometimes I have a hard time believing that a man’s actually writing these books.”

“I’ve always believed that a good storyteller can take anyone’s point of view and sell it to the reader if they’re only willing to commit to it,” Jennifer said.

I smiled softly as the women spoke, glad that this little group had found me. They’d stumbled into my donut shop looking for a place to meet in an emergency, and I’d been roped into their group by happy accident. Life was full of delightful surprises sometimes.

It wasn’t until they were gone and I was still basking in the glow of their fellowship that it all dropped quickly away.

I was cleaning up one of the tables when I found someone had written a note on it with a ballpoint pen. All that it said was
KILLER,
but it was enough. I knew that some folks in town believed that I was capable of murder, but I hated having my nose rubbed in it like that in my own donut shop.

The door chimed, and I wondered if my accuser was coming back. It was Chief Martin, though.

“Hello, Chief,” I said as I crumpled up the napkin. “Did you come by for one of my famous donuts?”

He self-consciously tugged at his belt as though grounding himself. “No, I’m not really all that hungry.”

“So, I’m guessing this isn’t a social call, is it?”

“Not so much. You asked about the man in the three-piece suit, and I wanted to let you know that I managed to catch up with him.”

“Excellent,” I said, surprised that he was willing to share the information, especially after what had happened earlier. “Who is he?”

“He goes by the name Thomas Oak,” the police chief said. “Care to guess where he’s from?”

“I’m willing to bet that he practices law in Pinerush.”

“On the nose. As far as I’ve been able to determine, he’s got only one client, and I’ll save you the trouble of guessing this time. He’s on the Pinerush family payroll.”

“So, he’s digging into this for the mother or the son. Do you happen to know which one it is, and why?”

The chief shrugged. “He wouldn’t tell me. I found him over at the town hall, started to ask him a few questions, and then all he would do was hand me his business card. After he took off, I made a few telephone calls. He’s on the up and up, at least as far as I was able to find out. Anyway, I just thought you might want to know.”

“It’s what I figured, but it’s nice to get confirmation of it. Thanks, Chief. Are you sure you won’t have a donut? One’s not going to kill you.”

“No, but if I have one, I’m going to want two. Two would lead to four to a dozen every morning, and I worked too hard to give it all up now. Thank you for the offer, anyway.”

“You’re welcome,” I said.

*   *   *

Five minutes before we were set to close, a stranger walked in wearing blue jeans and a faded old T-shirt. He reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t place him, although I knew that he’d never come into my donut shop before. I might forget a name, but I always remembered the face, and a donut preference. “What can I get you?”

“Coffee and a donut would be awfully nice,” he said as he sat at the counter.

“You’re in luck; we still have some of each. Any kind in particular you’d like?”

“I’m sure that whatever you pick will be good enough for me,” he said with an easy smile. There was a rough handsomeness to him, and with his easygoing manner, I was sure that he didn’t have any trouble with women.

“That’s what I like in a man, low expectations.”

He grinned again as he said, “Ma’am, I appreciate the interest, but I’m not looking for love at the moment.”

I knew I blushed at his comment; I could feel my cheeks redden. “I’m not, either. I already
have
a boyfriend. He’s a cop.” Why did I feel the need to volunteer that particular piece of information?

“Well, then, I’d say that he’s a lucky man. Does he work around here?”

“Actually, he’s a state police inspector. He’s out of town right now, but he’ll be back any day.”

“I’m sure he will.” I grabbed him an iced apple cake donut, slid it into a bag, and then filled up a to-go cup of coffee for him.

After I quoted him the price, he handed over the money as he asked, “Did I say something to offend you?”

“What? No, of course not. Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering why you were rushing me out of here so fast.”

“I close at eleven,” I explained. “It’s the only way I can actually have a life.”

“I don’t blame you for that a bit, then,” he said.

I started to give him his change, but he waved it away, so I put it in the tip jar. He wouldn’t budge, though. After taking the lid off his coffee, he pointed across the park. “I heard that you had some excitement over that way yesterday.”