Killer Crullers (19 page)

INGREDIENTS

Mixed

• 1 egg, beaten

• 1 container yogurt (5 ounces), plain or vanilla

• 2 tablespoons sugar, white granulated

• ½ teaspoon vanilla extract

Sifted

• 2 cups flour, self-rising

• A pinch salt

DIRECTIONS

Beat the egg in a large bowl, and add yogurt, sugar, and vanilla, mixing until incorporated. In another bowl, sift the flour and salt, and then add the dry ingredients to the wet. After this is mixed, cover the bowl and put in a warm place for 30 to 45 minutes. This allows the ingredients to fully incorporate, and the dough will rise a little in the process. Using a small cookie scoop or your hands, make small balls the size of walnuts. Fry in hot canola oil (360 to 370 degrees F) 2 to 3 minutes, turning halfway through, although they will most likely roll themselves. When they’re golden brown, dry them on paper towels and adorn however you like.

Yield: Depending on the size of the dough balls, from 6–10

CHAPTER 12

“Come in,” I told George as I unlocked the front door and flipped on the all of the front lights. We left it semilit inside when we were baking, so that no one would think we were open, but could have some hope that we would be soon. The place looked really bright with all the overhead lights on, and it always took me a few minutes to get used to it after I opened the shop to our first customers.

“Can I get you some coffee?” I asked George as he sat at the bar.

“I’ll take your biggest mug,” he said, “as long as I’m still on the payroll.”

“You know it,” I said. “Hey, George, would you try something for me?”

“Sure, I’ll be your guinea pig,” he said. “As long as it doesn’t include any ingredients that I don’t like.”

We’d gone through some tastings before with additions that George wasn’t all that fond of. There had even been one time when I was just punishing him a little.

“How do you feel about orange?” I asked.

“I love it,” he said. “I have a glass of juice every day.”

“This isn’t nearly as healthy as that,” I admitted, suddenly reluctant to make him try the new glaze and added extract in the orange donut recipe.

“Okay,” he said a little warily. “What’s in them, then?”

“Orange slice candies,” I said.

“In the donuts?”

“No, in the glaze,” I answered.

He thought about it a moment before answering. “Sure, why not?” he finally said.

As I served him a donut, a large man and a much smaller one came into the shop together. I knew them both too well, though the time of year was out of synch for them.

“Gentlemen, I didn’t realize you like donuts when you aren’t plowing the streets of April Springs.” I glanced out the window and added, “In fact, I didn’t realize your truck would even run without a snowplow attached to it.”

Bob, the big one of the two, laughed heartily and slapped his skinny companion on the back hard enough to wake him up next week. “That’s why I’ve missed this place. She’s a real jewel, isn’t she?”

Earl just nodded. Ever since they’d been coming to the shop, the smaller man had said barely a handful of words, but he could put away at least as many donuts as his hefty friend, and that alone gave him a special place in my heart.

Bob pointed to the donut George was about to take a bite of and said, “That looks good. I’ll take a dozen.”

Earl held up a hand. “Me, too,” he said.

“Hang on a second, guys,” I quickly explained. “That’s an experimental donut. I’m not sure it’s even ready to go onto the menu.”

“What are you waiting for?” Bob asked.

“For him to approve it,” I said as I pointed to George.

“That’s a big responsibility, my friend,” Bob said to George almost reverently.

“Tell me about it,” George answered.

Bob was clearly interested in hurrying the approval process. “Well, don’t just sit there. Take a bite and tell us all what you think.”

George took one bite, then another. “It’s a little sweet for my taste, but I’ve got a feeling some folks will love it.”

“That’s good enough for us,” Bob said. “Two dozen, to go.”

“I only made nine of those donuts today,” I confessed. “Are you sure you want to try them?”

“We’re sure,” Bob said. “Round out the rest any way you please. We’re hauling gravel today from the quarry, and there won’t be any time to stop for lunch.”

After they paid and left, George said, “That’s a pair of odd birds.”

“Bob and Earl are good people,” I said. “They always plow out my parking lot first when it snows, and I keep them supplied with donuts and hot coffee. George, when you came in, you had a dour look on your face. What’s going on?”

“I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news,” George said.

“Did something happen to Jean Ray?” I asked.

He looked puzzled by my question. “Not that I know of. What makes you ask something might have?”

“Just call it a hunch,” I said.

He wasn’t buying that, though. “Suzanne Hart, I’ve known you long enough to be able to tell when it’s more than a guess. Come on, give.”

I recounted my experience on the bench by the town clock the day before, and George frowned when I got to the point where Jean had looked back at me.

“I don’t like it,” he said.

“I’m not pleased about it myself. I plan to go by her place this afternoon. Hopefully, Jenny will be out so the two of us can talk in private.”

“Don’t count on it,” George said. “From the way it sounds, that girl will barely leave her aunt’s side.”

“Then I’ll just have to come up with a diversion,” I said. “Care to help me with it?”

“I’m afraid I can’t,” George said. “I stopped by to tell you that I’ve got a little situation I have to take care of, so I’ll be out of town for the next several days.”

“What happened?” I asked, not caring if I was being nosy. George was like family to me, and what happened in his life mattered to me.

He bit his lower lip, and then admitted, “My brother’s sick, and he’s asked to see me. I have half a mind not to go, but what can you do? Family is family, and I can’t say no to the man.”

“You two aren’t very close, are you?” I asked.

“No, as a matter of fact, it’s just the opposite. Hey, how did you know that?”

“In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never mentioned him, not even once.”

George nodded. “I knew you’d make a good detective someday.”

“Coming from you, that’s a compliment,” I said. “Any idea how long you’ll be gone?”

He shrugged. “That depends mostly on him, but I have a long drive ahead of me, and I’d better get started.”

I poured a cup of coffee for him in my largest travel cup, and then jammed half a dozen donuts in a bag. “These are for your trip.”

He took them, though it was clear he was reluctant to do it. “I haven’t earned these yet, Suzanne. The least you can do is let me pay for them.”

“Trust me, you’re worth every bite and each sip,” I said.

George smiled at that, and then got up. He was nearly out the door when I asked, “George, do me a favor, okay?”

“If I can,” he answered.

“I know it might sound odd, but would you call me when you get there?”

He got an odd look in his eyes, and I felt silly making the request.

“Forget it,” I said. “You don’t have to call.”

“I will,” he said. “To tell you the truth, it’s nice to have someone care whether I make it there or not. Thank you.”

Before I could answer, he left the shop. I hadn’t even asked him where he was going, but I knew one thing. I’d be happier when he was back, and it wasn’t just because Grace and I would miss him in our investigation.

*   *   *

It was a little past ten and donut sales had been brisk, though the shop was empty at the moment. We had lulls like that all the time, and instead of wasting them, I took advantage of the chance to clean up, refill the napkin holders, and straighten things up in general. It was amazing how many napkins we went through in the course of a day, but like anything else, it was just a cost of doing business. I’d been in places where the owners tried to discourage using too many, but I always felt unhappy about being afraid that I wouldn’t have enough, so I tried not to let it bother me when little Timmy used a dozen napkins when one would have been perfectly fine. At least they were cheap. I’d found a supplier who offered me a good product at a great discount, a combination that was better than a birthday present, as far as I was concerned.

I was filling the last holder when I heard the door chime behind me. I turned around with a smile, but it quickly faded when I saw who it was.

Standing right in front of me, with no counter, no security, and absolutely no way to defend myself but a half-empty box of napkins, was Chet, the man mountain.

From his expression, it was clear that he wasn’t all that happy about being in my donut shop.

That made two of us.

I tried to put a table between us as I said, “Listen, you told me to leave her alone, and I did. There’s no reason to come in here and make another fuss. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no problem, okay?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Chet said.

“Her ex-boyfriend was murdered. The police must have interviewed her by now, and I’m trying to help Desmond’s aunt figure out what happened to him. Jean lost someone she loved, so she has that right.”

Chet held his massive hands forward, as though trying to ward off my words. “Can I get a chance to talk, too?”

“Go ahead,” I said, searching over his shoulder for a sign that someone, anyone, was about to come into the shop. Cops loved donuts, so where were my friends on the force when I needed them? I’d even welcome a visit from Chief Martin, something I was certain would shock him if he knew about it. At least Emma was in back, not that she’d be able to do anything to stop Chet if he decided to do something to me. But at least some backup was better than none at all.

“I came by to say that I was wrong,” Chet said simply.

“About what, exactly?” I asked.

To my surprise, Chet smiled softly. “I’m the first person in the world to admit that I’m overprotective of Katie, but I never should have treated you that way. I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

I looked into his eyes and saw that he was sincere. “Are you in love with her?” I asked softly, without realizing that I was pushing things way too far.

Chet’s face began to cloud over, and I wondered if that was how I was going to die, right there in my donut shop.

“No, of course not,” he said with a little too much force for my taste. “We’re just friends.”

Wow, this guy’s mood changed faster than the weather. “Okay, I was just asking.”

“I like her, but we’re nothing more than buddies. I look out for her, that’s all. There’s never been anything between us, at least not like that.” Chet was overexplaining, and I had to wonder if he wasn’t just protesting a little too much.

“Got it,” I said as I moved back behind the counter. It was probably a little crazy, but I felt better having something between us more substantial than a box of napkins.

He looked at me, and then nodded as he said, “I just wanted to make that clear.”

Chet started to go, and then turned back around to face me. What was going to happen now?

“I’m here, I’m hungry, and you sell donuts,” Chet said. “Would you mind making me up a dozen to go?”

I grabbed an empty box, and then asked, “Anything in particular?”

“No, you choose. Just make them good.”

How was I supposed to know what he liked? I quickly picked a dozen of my most popular varieties, and then sealed the lid with tape.

“Would you like coffee, too?”

“No, I never could stand the stuff,” he said as he slid his money across the counter to me.

“I’ve got hot chocolate, too,” I said.

Chet grinned. “You know what? I haven’t had any of that for ages. That would be great.”

I poured a to-go cup and he took a sip as I made his change.

“That reminds me of my mother,” he said. “She used to make cocoa this good, but I haven’t had any since she passed away.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said. It appeared that this man had a heart that matched the rest of him.

“She’s been gone a while, but I still miss her. Is your mother still alive?”

“She is,” I answered. “We live together, in fact.” Now, why on earth had I told him that?

Chet nodded as he put his change away. “You’re lucky.”

“I think so, too.”

Chet took the box and headed for the door again. But the man just refused to leave. He stopped yet again, turned to me, and asked, “You’re finished with Katie, right?”

I wanted to tell him yes with every fiber of my being, but I knew if I lied to him now, he’d just come back. I had a feeling that Katie Wilkes was in the thick of things, so I couldn’t give her a free pass. “Chet, think about it. If I can help the police see that Katie wasn’t involved in Desmond’s murder, her life will be a lot better than it has to be right now. I know what it’s like to be under a cloud of suspicion, and trust me, it isn’t any fun. In a very real way, I’m actually doing her a favor.”

He looked curious about my answer. “What makes you think you can help her?”

“I’ve had some luck helping the police out in the past,” I admitted. “If Katie talks to me, I’ve got a real shot at doing some good here.”

Chet frowned for a moment. “But she already talked to you.”

“Not enough. There are some hard questions I need to ask her, and she has to tell me the truth. Maybe then I can be of service to her. It’s going to start getting hard on her soon, trust me.”

“It already is,” Chet admitted. “She cried all afternoon after you left.”

“You need to convince her to talk to me, for her own sake.”

Chet seemed to think about it, and then shook his head. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Have her call me,” I said. “My number here is on the box.” I walked over, took out my pen, and then jotted my cell phone number down, as well. “She can reach me at one of those numbers any time, day or night, but I should warn you, I go to bed around seven-thirty, so I might be slow to answer after that.”