Authors: Jessica Beck
“Take it or leave it, Trish.
I can’t help her if I don’t know what she’s
up to.”
After a few moments, my friend
nodded.
“Okay.
I’ll let you know, but I’m telling her that
I’m calling you.
If you’re not okay with
that, then the deal’s off.”
“I’ll take it,” I said, and then I
patted her shoulder gently.
“Are you
going to be okay?”
“Just figure it out quickly,
okay?”
“Like I said, I’m going to do my
best.”
As I suspected, Jake wasn’t back
home when I got to the cottage, so I decided to make us something to eat instead
of going out for dinner.
The main option
we had for eating out in town was the Boxcar Grill, and after speaking with
Trish, I was in no mood to go back there.
Besides, Jake loved my cooking, or at least he claimed to.
I was a pale imitation of my mother when it
came to the kitchen, but I could hold my own when I had to.
Dinner wasn’t going to be anything
complicated, though.
After making donuts
in my shop all morning, I wasn’t in the mood for a marathon cooking
session.
After going through my cupboards
and our freezer, I decided on a simple meal of spaghetti and French bread.
I knew from the start that it wouldn’t
compare to Napoli’s, but it was here and not half an hour away in Union Square.
Besides, it would give us a chance to spend a
little time together all alone, something that was worth more than a dozen
meals out, even if Anita DeAngelis and her daughters made them.
The pasta had just finished
cooking when I heard the front door open.
“Jake, is that you?”
He came into the kitchen and smiled
when he smelled the sauce simmering on the stovetop.
“It had better be.
I’m so glad you decided to cook.
I wasn’t in the mood to go out tonight.”
“Good.
It’s nearly ready.
Would you mind setting the table?”
“I’d be delighted.”
As he worked, I drained the pasta
and then added the sauce, stirring everything together while it was still
hot.
I’d toasted the bread in the oven,
so it was crisp and slightly browned, just the way we both liked it.
“It’s not much, but at least it
should be filling.”
Jake smiled.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit.
I think it looks and smells delicious.”
“That’s what I like, a man with a
low bar.”
“You’d be surprised,” he said as
he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tight.
“I’m going to spill dinner,” I
said with a laugh.
“Go ahead.
I want to hug my wife.”
I broke free long enough to put
the pot on the table and then turned my attention back to my husband.
After a proper greeting, he broke free and
rubbed his hands together.
“Let’s eat.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” I
said.
Chapter
12
After dinner, I put the dirty
dishes in the dishwasher, and we moved outside to the porch swing.
The night was pleasant, with a gentle breeze
stirring up and the serenade of crickets surrounding us as we lightly swung
back and forth.
“I’ve got to say, I love
domestic life,” Jake said as he put his arm around me.
“I’m a fan of it myself,” I
said.
“Are you ready for my report about
my visit with Trish, or should we postpone it until later and just enjoy the
evening?”
Jake frowned for a moment.
“The husband in me wants to wait, but the
sheriff realizes that the sooner you tell me, the better.”
“I’ve got to warn you, you’re not
going to like some of it.”
“Why should it be any different
from the rest of my day?” he asked with a sigh.
“And to think that I thought this job would bore me.”
“No worries about that,” I
said.
“Let’s get the bad news out of the
way first.
Trish called Hilda’s
sister.
Not only is she not sick, but
she hasn’t heard from Hilda for months.”
“Why didn’t you speak with her
yourself?” Jake asked softly.
“I tried to, but that was the only
way Trish would do it, so I didn’t have much choice.”
“Hey, who am I to be a choosy
beggar?
I couldn’t even get that much
out of her.
It doesn’t look good for
Hilda, does it?
I hate to jump to
conclusions, but she’s not making it any easier on herself by running away.”
“I told Trish that.
She promised to tell me the moment Hilda got
in touch with her, and she also vowed to plead with her to come back to April
Springs.”
“Do you believe her?” Jake asked
me.
“Trish?
With all my heart.
If she says that she’ll do something, you can
take it to the bank.
It may seem as
though we’re on opposite sides of this, but I trust her.”
“Then that’s good enough for me.”
After a few more swings, he added, “Not that
I won’t pursue Hilda on my own.
I can’t
depend on her good intentions.”
“What are you going to do?”
“It’s urgent that I speak with
her, Suzanne.
She’s a person of interest
in a murder, no matter how long ago it occurred.
My hands are tied.”
“I realize that.
I just hope she comes back on her own.”
“So do I.”
“How did it go with Judge Hurley?”
I asked. “Or are you allowed to say?”
“If he’d given me anything
substantive, I might be tempted to keep it to myself, but he barely talked to
me two minutes.
When he realized what I
was asking him about, he suddenly remembered an important engagement.
Don’t worry.
I’ll corner him yet.”
“Would you like any help with
that?” I asked.
“No, at least not yet,” he replied.
“Have you spoken with Benjamin’s
sister yet?”
“She’s coming by the station
tomorrow.
She was in meetings today that
she couldn’t postpone, and I figured our interview could wait,” Jake said.
“So, what’s on tap for you and Grace
tomorrow?”
“Well, I’m not entirely sure about
her, but as far as I’m concerned, I’m going to be making donuts, just like
always.”
“I mean after that,” he prodded.
“At this point, I’m not really
sure.
That’s the good thing about donut
making, though.
It gives me plenty of
time to think.”
“Well, keep me posted,” Jake said,
and then he stretched and looked at his watch.
“Shouldn’t you be going to bed about now?”
“I can stay out a few more
minutes,” I said.
Our shifts were at
such crazy odds that I didn’t get nearly enough time with my husband.
So what if I stole a little sleep from the
night?
I’d manage to get through it, and
in the meantime, I’d be able to spend a little more time with Jake.
Soon enough though, I headed off
to bed despite my intentions.
After all,
I had a big day ahead of me.
After
making donuts all morning, I planned on digging back into Benjamin Port’s life
to see if I could figure out who had poisoned him on purpose.
“What are those?” Emma asked me
the next morning in the kitchen of Donut Hearts when she came in.
I’d been playing with ideas for
new ways to present yeast donuts, and I was having fun with my latest
creations.
“They’re nut-shaped donuts,”
I said.
“First I cut the donuts into
squares instead of using my rolling circle cutter, and then I lop off diagonal
corners to make them look like nuts.
What do you think?”
“They’re cool,” she said.
“You should make bolt-shaped ones to go with
them.”
“Boy, we both need to get lives
outside of the donut shop, don’t we?” I asked her with a grin.
“I don’t know.
I’ve tried the outside world, and personally,
I like it here.”
“Truth be told, I do too.”
After I finished making my cuts, I
had a good amount of leftover dough, so I combined it all into a ball, rolled
it out until it was about a quarter of an inch, and then cut it into small
strips.
On a whim, I braided three
strips together and set them aside as well.
Why not have a little fun?
After
all, this was one of the spur-of-the-moment creations I liked to come up with
every now and then.
Emma’s forte for
experimentation came to the coffee we served, but after a particularly bad
combination a month before, we were sticking to our regular roasts for a while.
The rest of our prep went
normally, and when we were ready to open the door to our public, I was
surprised to see Ray Blake standing outside.
When I let him in, I asked, “Do
you need to see Emma?”
“No, I’m here for you,” Ray
said.
“I might have been a little hasty
yesterday.
If you’d still like to share
information with me, I promise that I won’t print any of it without your
permission.”
“Thanks, but if it’s all the same
to you, I think I’ll pass,” I said.
“Ray, I hate to think you got up this early just for me.
Can I get you a donut?
It’s on the house.”
I’d thought about my earlier request to ask
Ray for information, and in the end, I was glad that he’d turned me down.
The man wasn’t just a thorn in my side; he
was also a pain to local law enforcement, which now included my husband.
I was probably being a little pigheaded, but
there was nothing I could do about it.
“Suzanne, don’t be that way.
I was a little giddy having the upper hand
for once, and I let it go to my head.”
“No worries, Ray.”
I gave him a plain glazed donut, one of the
round ones, as Emma came out.
“I thought I heard a familiar
voice,” she said.
“Hey, Dad.
What are you doing here?”
“I came to have a chat with
Suzanne.”
“I told you last night that wasn’t
a good idea,” Emma said sternly.
“Need I remind you that I’m your
father?” Ray said.
“I’m not obligated to
take your advice, young lady.”
“You might not be, but you
should,” she said.
“Bye, Dad.”
“I’m not going anywhere.
I’ve got a donut, see?”
Emma reached out, plucked it off
his plate, and then shoved it into a bag.
“And now it’s to go.”
Ray frowned at the offered bag and
then at his daughter.
He was about to
say something when she added, “Don’t.”
Ray took a moment to think about
it, shrugged, and then he left.
“Suzanne, I’m so sorry.
Dad told me what happened yesterday, and when
he shared his plans with me for this morning, I did everything I could to talk
him out of it.
I told him that when you
made up your mind about something, it was tough to get you to change it.”
“Am I really that stubborn?” I
asked.
“Not about everything, but I knew
what it must have taken for you to go to my father for help, and when he
started putting conditions on his cooperation, I realized that he’d be wasting
his breath trying to get another shot at you.”
“Well, you’re not wrong about
that,” I said.
“No offense.”
“None taken.
I don’t need my father butting into my life
at work.
I hope you’re not mad at me.”
“Why should I be?
You tried to be the peacemaker.
No worries, Emma.”
“Good.”
After a few moments, I asked her,
“You’re not upset with me, are you?”
“No way.
Why do you ask?”
“I just rebuffed your father in
front of you.
That would make some
people angry.”
“Your relationship with my dad has
nothing to do with our connection,” she said.
“Okay then.
What say we sell some donuts?”
“You can.
I’m looking forward to tackling that sink
full of dishes, myself.”
“Then let’s get started,” I said
as our first real customers started streaming in.
Jan Kerber came in around ten with
an envelope in her hands.
“Good morning.
What can I get you?” I asked her.
“No donuts for me, I’m afraid,”
she said as she frowned at my display case.
It was clear that she wanted one, but I wasn’t going to push her on it.
“What brings you by?”
“I’m still working on that list
you and Jake asked for,” she said.
“It’s
not as easy as I thought it would be.
All I found in our archives was a grainy photo taken for a newspaper
article Ray Blake published about the time capsule when it was first buried.”
So, Ray might have been able to
help me after all.
At least I was
getting the information from another source.
“May I see it?”
“Certainly,” she said as she
handed it over.
“I’ve got to warn you,
though, our copier is just about worn out, so the quality’s not very good.”
I pulled the paper out of the
envelope and saw that she wasn’t exaggerating.
The original hadn’t been in great shape based on the creases and
smudges, but the photocopier had taken the image to a whole other level of
graininess.
As I frowned at the copy, Jan
said, “It’s just about worthless, isn’t it?”
“I’d love to see the original,” I
said.
“Don’t they usually list the names
of the people in the photos?”
“I doubt that Ray would have
bothered, though I do remember him asking us for our names when the photo was
taken.
Maybe he can help you out.”
“Maybe,” I said.
It appeared that I was going to have to eat a
little crow.
The only way I was going to
see the original and get Ray’s list of names was by apologizing for blowing him
off, something that I was not all that eager to do.
“Do you want this back?”
“No, you keep it, for what it’s
worth.
There were two copies in the
file.”
“Thanks,” I said as I tucked it
behind the counter.
“Are you sure I
can’t get you something?
After all, you
went to a lot of trouble for me.
This is
the least I can do.”
“It was no trouble at all,” she
said, and then she glanced back at the display case.
“What are those?”
I’d hoped that she’d been pointing
to my new nut-shaped donuts, but instead, she was pointing at the blueberry
donut holes.
“They’re blueberry.”
“They’re so tiny, I don’t suppose
one would hurt,” she said.
I grabbed a couple and put them in
a bag.
“Would you like some coffee to go
with them, too?”
“Thanks, but I’ve already exceeded
my caffeine intake for the day.”
She
gently shook the bag and smiled as she added, “Thanks for the treat.”
“You’re most welcome.”
After Jan was gone, I pulled the
copied photo out again.
I could make out
a few faces in the murky image, but I doubted that I could swear to anyone’s
identity in a court of law.
I folded it
in half and set it aside again.
The rest of the day was quiet
enough.
Even though I’d made just a
dozen of the nut-shaped donuts, we still had seven left, so that particular
idea was probably dead.
I hated having
leftovers, and any donut that didn’t pull its own weight would soon leave the
rotation until I could come up with a new angle.
Surprisingly, the twists I’d made on a lark
had sold out rather quickly, so I decided to make more the next day to see if
it was a trend or just a fluke.
Grace came by just as we were about
to close for the day.
“Are you ready to
start sleuthing again?” she asked me.