Cinnamon Crunch Murder (8 page)

“I guess you’re right,” Heather said. She straightened, grabbed a handful of popcorn then gestured with it. “Wait a sec! I bet that building has a surveillance system.”

“Building?”

“Yeah, Paradise Villas, where Tara stayed? I bet they have a system. Maybe I could get something from the recordings,” Heather said. She inhaled the popcorn, then jumped from the sofa and grabbed her smartphone off the coffee table.

“It’s worth a shot,” Ryan replied. “I would make the call, but you know –”

“Your hands are tied, I know.” Poor disgruntled Ryan. In the past, he’d have steered clear of investigating, and now he encouraged it, thanks to the new tyrant in his office. Heather walked to the living room door. “You watch the movie, honey, I’ll make the call.”

Ryan grunted and turned back to the dinosaurs on screen. “All right. Let me know how it goes.” He pressed play and sank into the sofa cushions, popcorn bucket perched on his lap.

Heather searched for the number at Paradise Villas, it didn’t take too much of a sleuth to find it, and dialed through to the superintendent. The phone rang and rang, then finally clicked.

“Yeah?” A man asked. “It’s late. I can fix the radiator in the morning.”

“I’m not calling about a radiator,” Heather said. “I’m Heather Shepherd, and I wanted to –”

“Heather Shepherd? Heard that name before. Not sure where, though. But what can I do for you?” The man asked, tone softening up.

“Did you say, Heather Shepherd?” A woman asked, in the background, voice muffled by distance.

Scratching ensued, snippets of an argument and then the line cleared up.

“This is Jasmine Gold,” a woman said.

Why was Goldie at Paradise Villas at this time of the night? Unless they had an onsite office or –

“Did you move, Goldie?” Heather asked, cold realization sweeping up her limbs and straight into her solar plexus. “Did you move into Tara’s apartment?”

“It’s none of your business what I’ve done and when. Stay out!” Goldie replied.

Another wave of cold. The same message that’d been on the brick. And there was a construction site next door to Paradise Villas.

“I know you did it, Goldie,” Heather said. “You killed Tara because she was in your way and now you’re reaping the rewards.” She flushed red with anger. Goldie’s attitude had rubbed her the wrong way from the beginning, and this was the final straw.

“You’ve lost it,” Goldie replied.

“And I know you threw that brick through my front window.”

“Seriously? I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Get lost, old lady,” Goldie yelled, then hung up.

The dial tone sent shivers done Heather’s spine. The old lady thing had hurt a little, too.

“What happened?” Ryan asked, from the doorway to the living room. “I heard shouting. And I heard it over the roaring of that massive, gray dinosaur. It’s got to be serious.”

“Goldie did it,” Heather said, thumbing the screen of her phone. “She definitely did it. She’s moved into Tara’s empty apartment.”

“Tell me you didn’t accuse her,” Ryan replied.

“I might’ve gotten carried away.” Heather chewed the inside of her cheek. “But it’s just so obvious. She even told me to stay out. The same message that was on the brick. I mean, come on, how much more evidence do I need?”

“A lot. This doesn’t mean anything, Heather.” Ryan walked to her and slipped one arm around her shoulder. “Goldie has every right to take up residence in Tara’s old place. She’s co-owner of that building. She could’ve kicked Tara out on a whim if she’d wanted to.”

“But, ugh, but it’s so clear that she’s –”

“Don’t let your emotions interfere with the case, my love. You’re desperate because Davidson is upping the pressure. You need to relax and think about this, clearly, or you’ll end up making a mistake you’ll regret later,” Ryan said, stroking her shoulder.

“I guess you’re right. Maybe I should get an early night.”

She could figure this all out in the morning.

The phone’s discordant ring shattered Heather’s dreams.

She bolted upright in bed, sweat coating the backs of her arms and darkness pressing at her from every angle.

“Ryan?”

“Yeah, what’s going on?” He asked, from beside her. A click and light flooded the bedroom from the lamp on his side of the bed. He scraped at his eyes and squinted around, his hair licked up on one side of his head.

“The phone,” Heather said, then laughed at herself and the sleepy reaction. She grabbed her cell from her bedside table and answered. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Shepherd, this is Roger from WeSecureU. I’m calling about an alarm at Donut Delights. Are you in the store, at the moment?”

“No, I’m not in the store,” Heather said, glancing at the flashing red digits on her alarm clock. “It’s 3 am.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m going to go ahead and dispatch a security unit to your store.”

“Please do,” Heather said, then hung up. She turned to her husband, shedding sleep like a cloak. “Someone’s broken into the store.”

“What?” Ryan slipped out of bed and hurried to the dresser. “I’m going down there to check it out.”

“I’m coming with you. Don’t even try to stop me, Shepherd. This is my store we’re talking about.”

He waved at her to get dressed. “I’m not going to stop you, love.”

They dressed in silence, and Heather got her keys and Taser out of her tote. Ryan strapped on his gun, then nodded once. They hurried down to Heather’s car, and ten minutes later they were parked outside the store.

The front windows were shattered. Glass scattered the sidewalk, glinting under the light of the streetlamps.

A WeSecureU car pulled up a second later, and a man in uniform stepped out, wielding a Taser of his own.

Heather and Ryan got out of the car and were bathed in the chill night air.

“I’m gonna have to ask you, folks, to get back in your vehicle.”

Ryan flashed his badge.

“All right. Then I’m going to let you lead us on in there,” the security guy said, and checked the safety on his Taser. His fingers trembled slightly. Maybe the company wasn’t used to legitimate disturbances in a small town like Hillside.

Ryan strode to the door, crunching across the glass, and Heather stopped him by tugging on his arm. “This glass is on the sidewalk. That means the windows were broken from the inside, doesn’t it?”

“Those forensics courses are paying off,” Ryan whispered.

The lights clicked on in the front of the store, and all three of them froze on the spot.

A person appeared in the kitchen doorway, no, a woman. She strode through the store in her tall, gold heels, then stopped in front of the cash register. She grabbed it and tore it off the counter, tossing it to the golden boards below.

“Hey!” Heather yelled. “What are you doing?”

The woman turned to face them. Goldie Gold’s expression could’ve burned a hole in a steel wall. “This is your fault! You accused me. You’re the witch. You’re the most – I ‘ll make you pay,” she said. “You’ll pay for making my name bad.”

“Oh boy,” Heather whispered.

Goldie grasped the edge of a wrought iron table and strained to tip it over. Her golden heels slipped on the boards, and she flopped across the top instead. “Who decorates a bakery with wrought iron tables?” The rich girl let out huffs of breath. “Seriously?”

Goldie regained her composure and grabbed one of the centerpieces instead, a china vase which wasn’t cheap. She raised it above her head and smashed it to the floor.

“Whoa, she’s angry,” the security company guy said.

Heather was rooted to the spot. She couldn’t tear her gaze from the destructive force that was Goldie Gold. The woman grasped vase after vase and smashed them. She aimed one at the counter and broke the glass display cases.

Thousands of dollars of damage for a few words over the phone.

“That’s enough,” Ryan shouted, and stepped through the door. He took his gun from his holster and aimed it at Goldie. “Put your hands where I can see them, now.”

Goldie glared back at him, another vase clasped in her hands. She raised it above her head. “What are you going to do? Shoot me for breaking some stuff? Get real.”

“Ma’am put the vase down and put your hands up,” Ryan said, tone deepening. “I will detain you by force, if necessary.”

“Put it down, Goldie,” Heather called. “It’s over.” This incident spoke volumes about the woman’s character, but it still didn’t change the fact that Heather didn’t have the evidence to accuse her of the crime, just yet.

There had to be something she could do.

Goldie smashed the vase and went for another one.

The WeSecureU guy gave a roar – it came out as more of a petrified squeak – and dashed into the storefront. He charged at Goldie.

Goldie shrieked and dropped her vase.

The security guy tackled her around the waist, and they hit the floor in a brawling mass of arms and legs.

“Let go of me!” Goldie shrieked. “I am the daughter of one of the richest men in Hillside. You touch me, and you’ll regret it. I’ll sue you. I’ll sue all of you.”

Ryan holstered his gun and walked to the tangle of limbs beside one of Heather’s tables. He reached in, using skills Heather hadn’t seen in action, and grasped Goldie’s arm.

“Jasmine Gold, you’re under arrest for damage to property. You have the right to remain silent –” Ryan’s speech was punctuated by the enraged shrieks from the heiress. But he had the cuff on her arm and the power in this situation.

Apparently, Goldie was about to serve time, even if it wasn’t for the murder of her best friend.

“There has to be more evidence,” Heather whispered.

Heather sat on the sofa, the sun rising behind her, casting hazy shadows on the wall behind the TV. Dave’s head rested in her lap, and he twitched an ear every now and again.

Ryan still wasn’t back from the station after Goldie’s arrest.

“How did it come to this, Dave?” Heather asked.

He whined and covered his nose with a paw.

“Right? It’s just so confusing. I guess I say that about every case, but the closer I get to the answer, the muddier it all becomes.” Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this whole investigation business, after all.

She stroked Dave’s head and stared at the orange-yellow hues on the wall, opposite. “Maybe if I go over it one more time, I’ll figure it out. Ryan said I shouldn’t jump to conclusions about Goldie, but clearly, she’s unhinged.”

Dave’s tail thumped against the sofa.

“But that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s a murderer. Facts, I have to think facts,” Heather whispered.

Birds chirped outside. A woman called out a name in the distance, car doors slammed. Normal suburban noises.

“Tara made noise at the building which Goldie and her father own. Which also happens to be next to a construction site with a lot of bricks. Goldie moved into Tara’s apartment after her death. Goldie fought with Tara before her death because Foster broke up with her. Goldie, Goldie, Goldie,” Heather said. “What on earth am I missing?”

Dave yawned and licked his furry lips.

“Missing, hmmm. Paradise Villas. There seems to be a lot of information about Paradise Villas. But the murder wasn’t committed there,” Heather said, tapping her chin with her finger. She yawned as a follow up to Dave’s, and stifled it with the back of her fist.

The front door opened, and footsteps paced into the hall.

“Honey?” Ryan called from the front. “Are you up?”

“I’m in the living room. And if I had been sleeping, I might’ve yelled at you for waking me up,” she replied.

“I’ll take that into account next time,” he said and marched into the living room. His hair stood up at different angles, and he ran his hand through it, then sighed. “You wouldn’t believe that Goldie woman’s behavior. I didn’t interrogate her. I couldn’t. She wouldn’t stop screaming about her father and money and blah, blah, blah.”

“That’s what privilege does to a person, I guess.” Heather patted Dave, then shifted him to one side and rose from her seat. “Did she say anything about Tara?”

“Not a thing. And there’s nothing placing her at the crime scene. Her father’s given an alibi in the form of a surveillance recording from Paradise Villas which shows Goldie arriving at the building at the time of the murder.”

“So, it’s not her,” Heather replied, and her shoulders sagged. She couldn’t solve this one. Her main suspect was totally in the clear when it came to the murder.

“Nope, it’s not her.” Ryan’s phone rang and he slipped it out of his pocket.

“I’m stumped,” Heather said and massaged her neck.

“I’ve got to take this, love, I’ll be right back, and we can talk about it,” Ryan said, then hurried down the hall toward the kitchen.

Heather strode back into the living room and folded her arms, staring out at the street through the living room window. So, this was it. Goldie was definitely innocent. Foster had an alibi. That left who? Ethan Gold. He had absolutely no motive to kill Tara Davidson.