Lemon Larceny (The Donut Mysteries) (28 page)

“Don’t blame
yourself, dear,” Momma said to me.

“How touching,” Anna
said.
 
“What I’d like to know is how
did you know that I killed Greta?
 
She could have committed suicide.
 
She was that weak.”

“You blew it when
you wrote the suicide note,” I said.

“How so?”

“You called my
aunt ‘Jean,’ but Greta always called her ‘Miss Jean.’”

“I knew that,
too.
 
That was sloppy of me.
 
Hopefully the chief won’t figure it
out.
 
You must think you’re a pretty
bright girl, Suzanne.”

“Well, I let you
get the drop on me a few minutes ago, so I must not be that bright,” I said.

She laughed at
that.
 
“Point taken.”
 
She looked around for a moment, and then
she said with a glimmer of joy in her voice, “Once I get rid of the two of you,
this is all going to be mine.”

As we continued
to walk up the stairs from the second level to the attic, Momma asked, “Does it
really mean that much to you?”

“This place?
 
Not especially, though it is nicer than
my place.
 
That was just my cover
story so I could keep your sister from finding out why I really wanted it.”

“Is there gold or
something in the ground under it?” I asked her.

Anna thought that
was particularly amusing.
 
After she
stopped laughing, she said, “You’re really off-base on that one.
 
No, it wasn’t the house I was after, but
the land.
 
You see, my grandfather
didn’t use a surveyor when he built the house where my family’s homestead is
located.
 
It’s actually mostly on
land that Jean owned.
 
If she found
out, she would have bulldozed my family home to the ground, and I wasn’t going
to allow that.
 
I had to do whatever
it took to preserve my family’s history.”

“My sister would
have done no such thing,” Momma said.
 
“If you’d approached her with the truth, I’m sure the two of you could
have worked something out.”

“You didn’t know
your sister as well as you thought you did.
 
My way is better,” she said fiercely.

“I don’t see how
that’s possible,” Momma said, and Anna poked her back with the gun hard enough
to make my mother grunt out in pain.
 
Part of my plan had been to lead the way so I could get to that sword
before Anna got there, but that had meant getting in front of Momma and leaving
her directly in contact with Anna.
 
I just hoped my plan worked.
 
If anything happened to Momma, I didn’t know what I’d do.
 
Then again, I was pretty sure that she’d
feel the same way about me if our roles were reversed.

“You rigged her
brakes, didn’t you?” I asked.
 
“You
told us about the class on auto repair you took, so it couldn’t have been all
that hard for you to do.”

Anna
frowned.
 
“Yes, I did it, for all
the good that it ended up doing me.
 
Somehow Jean managed to get herself out of that mess just fine.
 
That’s when I knew that I had to do
something a bit more direct.”

We were finally
in the attic, but the sword wasn’t where I’d left it.
 
Had Momma moved it?
 
Where was it?
 
I couldn’t fight back unless I had a
weapon, and I didn’t exactly have enough time to look for it before Anna caught
on to what I was doing.

“Where’s this
note you promised me?” Anna asked.

“It’s over
there,” I said, pointing in the general direction of where I’d last seen the
sword.

“Well, what are
you waiting for?
 
I’m not going to
get it myself.”
 
She stopped and
pulled my mother closer to her, using the gun as a threat.
 
“You fetch it, Suzanne, and don’t get
any ideas.
 
If you try anything,
your mother is going to die right in front of you.”

It iced me for a
split second, but I knew that if I didn’t do something, we were both surely
going to die anyway.
 
Any risk was
one worth taking at that point of desperation.
 
I moved a few old blouses as I searched
for the sword, and I’d nearly given up when I finally spotted it.
 
It had fallen between two boxes, and as
I reached down to grab it, I said, “You should confess everything to the police
chief, Anna.
 
The truth can be a double-edged
sword that can kill you or set you free.
 
It’s not too late for you to make things right.”

I doubted that it
would make much sense to Anna, but I hoped that my mother would get it.

“What nonsense
are you spouting now?
 
I’m never
giving up,” she said as I grabbed the only weapon within sight.

As Momma saw me
come up with our ancestor’s sword, she dropped to the floor of the attic as
though there was a trapdoor underneath her.
 
It caught Anna completely off-guard, and
I took two steps and skewered her before she could fire a single shot.

The gun dropped
as I stabbed her, and Momma picked it up before she stood.

“You stabbed me!”
Anna screamed as she fell and started fighting to pull the sword out of her
shoulder.
 
I’d been aiming for her
chest, but she’d shifted at the last second.
 
She might need surgery, but she’d
survive, not that it was a top priority of mine at the moment.

“I’d leave that
in if I were you,” I said calmly.
 
“It might be all that’s keeping you from bleeding to death.”
 
I looked over at my mother, who was
showing renewed signs of life now.
 
I had to admit that it was a real relief seeing the spark in her eyes
again.
 
“Momma, give me the gun and
call the police.”

It was as though
I hadn’t spoken.
 

Her grip was
tightening on the gun, and she made no sign of even hearing me.

“Momma!”

That finally got
her attention.

“Give me the gun.
 
Now!”

At last, she did
as she was told.
 

It turned out
that simple sentences were the best.

“Listen to me
very carefully.
 
You need to take
out your cellphone and call 911.”

My mother looked
over at me, but she still couldn’t seem to focus on me completely, she was so far
under the spell that she’d been swept up in.
 
“Momma, I need you to do what I ask.
 
Please.”

That finally got
her attention.
 
“Of course, Suzanne,”
she said as she finally pulled out her cellphone.

Anna was still on
the ground writhing around, clearly in pain from the stab wound, but I kept the
gun trained on her nonetheless.

Four minutes
later the chief showed up, followed closely by an ambulance.

When they took Anna
off on the stretcher, the sword was still in place, standing proud, a flag
waving as a tribute to our family history, and saving our lives once again.

Chapter 26

“You just can’t
manage to stay out of trouble, can you?” Jake asked me the next day after Aunt
Jean’s funeral was over.
 
He’d made
it in time to be there by my side, and I didn’t know what I would have done
without him.
 
We’d fed a ton of
strangers at the house afterwards, everyone buzzing about what Anna and Greta
had done.
 
The conversations had
stopped the instant either Momma or I was in sight, but we knew what they were
talking about nonetheless.

“What can I say?”
I asked him.
 
“It seems to follow me
wherever I go.
 
I’m just glad that
you’re here with me now.”

“You know that there’s
nowhere else that I’d rather be.
 
I’m just sorry I didn’t get her sooner.”

“I am, too, but we
managed somehow.”

“I’d say you did
more than that.
 
What made you use
an old Civil War sword to defend yourselves?”

“It was the only
weapon in the house, so I didn’t have a whole lot of choice,” I said.
 
“Have you heard from Chief Kessler today?”

“I spoke with him
a few minutes ago,” Jake said.
 
He’d
become fast friends with the police chief upon arriving, but those were always the
easiest friends for Jake to make.
 
“Anna
is out of surgery and doing fine.
 
Her shoulder’s going to hurt for a while, and she’s going to need some
rehab, but she’ll survive.”

“Okay,” I
said.
 
I hadn’t regretted stabbing
her for one second, given what she had already done, not to mention what she
was about to do.

“What are you
going to do with this place?” Jake asked as he looked around my aunt’s rambling
old house.
 
“They may never find all
of the jewelry that Greta stole, but at least you’ve still got this house.”

“I was thinking
about donating it to the same charity my aunt favored,” I admitted.
 
“Would I be crazy to do it?”

“No, I think
that’s a fine idea,” I said.

“I think it’s
perfect nonsense if you ask me,” Momma said as she drifted over to us.

“Why is that?”
Jake asked her, honestly curious about my mother’s reaction.

“My sister donated
what she wanted to that conservation group.
 
Suzanne, she meant you to have this.”

“Do you expect me
to keep it, just because it’s been in the family for years?” I asked her.
 
“What am I going to do with a house in
Maple Hollow?”

“Of course you’re
not going to keep it.
 
Neither one
of us want this place as a reminder of what we’ve lost.
 
Sell it, and then take the dream trip
that you’ve always wanted to take.
 
That was what my sister would have wanted.”

I looked at
Jake.
 
“Well, we have been talking
about going to Paris someday.
 
What
do you think?”

He just
shrugged.
 
“It’s your house.
 
You should do what you want with it.”

I considered the
possibilities, and then I realized that most of all, above all else, my aunt
would have wanted me to be happy.
 

After all, that
was what we each wanted for the other.

“It’s settled,
then,” I said.

“You’re donating
it?” Momma asked, the disappointment clear in her voice.

“No, I’m selling
it.
 
That’s good advice you just
gave me, and I plan on taking it.”
 
Then I turned to Jake.
 
“So,
what do you say?
 
Are you ready to
finally go to Paris?”

“I am if you
are,” he said with a grin.

“Then let’s go.”

It was, in the
end, a fitting way to pay tribute to the love my late aunt shared with me.
 
My only regret was that she couldn’t go
with us.
 
Then again, it would be special
spending time alone with the man I loved in the City of Lights.

And I could
hardly wait.

BAKED LEMON GLAZED DONUTS

I’ve been on a lemon donut kick lately, as
you’ll see by the following recipes, having fun with all kinds of lemony
experiments.
 
It’s funny, but the
older I get, the more I grow to appreciate the subtle nuances lemon can add to
a donut recipe.
 
Adding the zest to
the batter and glaze as well is a fun twist, too.
 
Be aware that lemon extract will do in a
pinch if you don’t have any real lemons available, but for every tablespoon of
real lemon juice, substitute just a teaspoon of lemon extract.
 
Too much extract can give you an
overwhelming bite if you’re not careful!
 
Also, it’s fun to play with the hybrid Meyer lemons sometimes, adding a
distinctly different flavor to your recipes.
 
Half the fun is experimenting, so enjoy!

INGREDIENTS

DONUTS

1 1/4 cups all
purpose flour (I like unbleached)

1 cup granulated
white sugar

1 teaspoon
baking powder

1 teaspoon
baking soda

zest of 3
large lemons (reserve 1/2 teaspoon for glaze)

1/2 cup half
and half (whole milk, 2 percent, or even 1 percent can be substituted)

1/2 cup sour
cream

6 tablespoons
unsalted butter, melted and cooled

1 egg, beaten

1 tablespoon
lemon juice (fresh)

5 drops
yellow food coloring (optional)

GLAZE

1 1/4 cups
confectioner’s sugar

3 tablespoons
fresh lemon juice

1/2 teaspoon
lemon zest

Oil for
Frying

Canola or
Peanut Oil, about 1 quart

INSTRUCTIONS

Preheat your
oven to 350 degrees F.
 
Then, in a
large bowl, mix together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and
lemon zest.
 
In a separate bowl, blend
the half and half, sour cream, melted butter, beaten egg, lemon juice, and food
coloring.
 
Gently stir the dry
ingredients into the wet until thoroughly mixed.
 
Lightly coat your donut pan with a
non-stick vegetable spray.
 
Fill the
wells three quarters full, and then bake for 8-10 minutes, until the donut
springs back lightly to your touch.
 
While the donuts are cooling on the rack, you have time to make the glaze.
In a small bowl, whisk together the confectioner’s sugar, lemon juice and
zest.
 
Drizzle the glaze over the
cooling donuts and wait for the glaze to set, or grab one and get started while
everything is still warm!