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Authors: Jessica Beck

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Cozy, #Amateur Sleuth

Evil Eclairs (3 page)

BOOK: Evil Eclairs
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“Emma, this is serious. The chief has requested my presence somewhere, and it doesn’t look like I can refuse. Watch the front, would you?”

She pulled her hands out of the soapy water. “Should I call my mother to come help out until you get back?”

Emma’s mother had stepped in to lend a hand at times when we’d needed her in the past, but I didn’t think I’d be gone long enough to make it worth her while to come in. “No, it shouldn’t be that bad.”

“I hope not, but if you’re gone more than thirty minutes, I’m calling her.”

“That sounds fine. I’m hoping I won’t have any trouble meeting that deadline.”

Emma rinsed her hands, and we walked out to the dining area together.

“I just need you, Suzanne,” Officer Grant said.

“Trust me; I’ve got no desire to go wherever you two are going. I’m going to have my hands full running the front,” Emma said.

“See you soon,” I said as we left. I’d considered grabbing a donut for Officer Grant on the way out, but quickly decided against it. After all, I didn’t want to be accused of currying favor with local law enforcement.

I was glad I’d grabbed my jacket. It was still chilly out, and I figured that it wouldn’t begin to really warm up until the sun came out.

As we drove away from the shop, I asked, “Where exactly are we going?”

Officer Grant appeared to think about it, and then said, “I don’t suppose it could hurt anything to tell you now. We’re going to WAPS.”

I couldn’t believe the nerve of Lester Moorefield. Why had he brought the police into our argument? “I never touched him! Did he say that I did? He’s lying. Ask Cara. She saw the entire argument!”

“He didn’t say a word.”

“Then why are we going to see him?”

Officer Grant let out a deep breath, and then said, “Somebody killed him late last night, Suzanne, and it looks like they might have used one of your pastries to do it.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was like the return of a nightmare I’d lived through once before. “Was it poisoned?”

“No, as far as we know, there wasn’t anything wrong with it.”

“Then how did it kill him?”

“Suzanne, it looks like he might have choked on it. There was half a box of pastries in the break room.”

I paused a moment to take that in. “Then why does the chief need to see me? I can’t help it if someone took too big a bite of one of my treats. I can’t be held responsible for everything that happens once something leaves my shop.”

Officer Grant frowned, and then said, “If you tell anyone I said this, I’ll deny it. At first glance, it looked like an éclair was jammed down his throat. It cut off his airway and he couldn’t breathe. I don’t know what they’ve found out since. The second the chief saw that pastry, he sent me to get you.”

What a terrible way to die. Suffocation couldn’t be an easy way to go, and the idea that one of my pastries had been used in a homicide made me feel sick. Something must have showed on my face.

Officer Grant asked, “Are you all right? Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything to you about it until we got there.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “Do you mind if I crack the window? I could use a little cool air on my face.”

“That’s fine.”

I opened the window, and let the breeze in. After a minute, I was feeling more like my old self again. It was just in time. I rolled the window back up as we pulled into the parking lot of the radio station where I’d been the night before. Dawn was still an hour away, but heavy-duty lights lined the perimeter, making it as bright as noon. I saw the car Lester had leaned against the night before. Since the entire parking lot was fenced in, there was no need for crime-scene tape anywhere. One of the officers was taking photographs of tire tracks from a drying mud puddle, and I had to wonder if they’d match my Jeep.

At least the body had been removed. I’d looked for it the second we’d pulled up, hoping not to see Lester with my pastry nearby.

I got that wish, but I wasn’t off the hook completely.

Chief Martin met me at the car door. Though he’d gained some weight in the past, it was clear that he was working hard at losing it now. I knew he wasn’t eating donuts anymore, though he’d never been that big a customer of mine. I wondered if it had something to do with the trouble he was having finalizing his divorce. Word around town was that he and his wife had been living separately for some time, though nothing official had been announced. That’s the way it was with small-town living. The grapevine was usually more accurate than the newspaper, and gave up information quicker, too. Sometimes I wondered why Emma’s father even bothered running the
April Springs Sentinel.

Before I could take more than a step away from the cruiser, the chief held an evidence bag in front of my face.

“Is this yours?”

It was clear he wasn’t in the mood for small talk. I looked at the remnants of an éclair, studied the custard in the middle, and the shiny chocolate glaze on it. “If I had to guess, I’d say yes, but I could be wrong.”

“Who else could have made it?” He was normally gruff with me, but there wasn’t even the pretension of civility.

“Chief, someone could have made it in their own kitchen. It’s not exactly rocket science. Did you call me for my expert opinion, or did you hear about the argument I had with Lester last night? You don’t honestly think I could have done this, do you?”

“I’m not in the opinion business, Suzanne. I’m just interested in facts.”

“There’s a ringing endorsement if I ever heard one. Maybe I need to call Jake.”

Chief Martin and my boyfriend had a fairly good professional relationship, except when it came to me. They shared a camaraderie, but his association with me put a strain on it at times. “I thought he was tied up somewhere else.”

For one second, I’d forgotten all about his trip to New Bern. “Should I call an attorney, then?”

“Do what you please, but I’m not going to arrest you, at least not at the moment.” He waved Officer Grant away, and then lowered his voice. “Trust me, I know better than anyone how much Lester loved poking at folks around town with his show. Do you think you’re the first person in April Springs he ever went after with that radio program of his?”

“No, but I’ve got a suspicion that I’m the last.”

He nodded. “You’ve got a point there, and I can’t stop people in town from talking, but I’m not about to let it interfere with my investigation.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Was the chief of police actually acting like a human being for a change?

“That being said, do you have an alibi for last night between ten and two?”

That was more like the chief of police I expected. “I got home about nine-thirty after my argument with Lester, spent half an hour talking about it with my mom, and then I grabbed four hours of sleep before I came into the shop a little after two
A.M.

He nodded, and then asked, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t you usually go to work a little earlier than that?”

“I slept in a little,” I admitted. “As it is, I’m going to need a nap later.” A thought suddenly occurred to me. “Have you been checking up on me?”

He didn’t even look chastened as he replied. “I’ve got officers doing night patrols downtown, and one of my men mentioned that your lights were dark at two, when usually they’re blazing back in the kitchen by then.”

“And he just happened to bring that up this morning, of all days?”

“No, I asked him, Suzanne. I’m investigating a homicide. It’s what I do. I keep asking questions until I get answers. And don’t knock our patrols. That’s how we found Lester.”

I frowned at his response. His reply was reasonable, but I still didn’t like the idea of anyone checking up on me. “How are you so sure he didn’t just choke on a big bite of pastry without help from anyone else?”

“Grant’s been talking too much,” Chief Martin said as he looked at his subordinate. “I never told you why I was asking about that éclair.”

“Don’t blame him. You know how relentless I can be.”

“I can testify to that. Anyway, we’ve ruled out choking, either by accident or on purpose. The éclair wasn’t what killed him.”

Was it wrong that I felt a sense of relief from the news? “What exactly happened, then?”

“The pastry was just the icing on the cake, Suzanne. Lester was strangled from behind, and the éclair was added after the fact.”

*   *   *

The weariness I’d been keeping at bay suddenly overwhelmed me. I hadn’t been a fan of Lester Moorefield, but that didn’t mean I was happy that he was dead. The presence of one of my pastries at the crime scene just added to the exhaustion I felt. “Are you finished with me yet?”

“For now. Hang around a little, I’ll have someone drive you back to your shop.”

I couldn’t bear the thought of lingering at the crime scene for another second if I didn’t have to.

“That’s okay. I’ll call someone,” I said.

He seemed to stop caring about me altogether at that point and headed back inside the radio station.

Who could I call? Jake wouldn’t be back for a few days, and I knew from experience that he turned his telephone off when he was dealing with something complicated like coordinating a bust with the feds. I thought briefly about phoning Grace, but it was barely past six, and I doubted she’d be up for at least another hour.

I could have called Max, but I’d have to be a lot more desperate than I was right now to telephone my ex-husband.

That left Momma.

I knew she’d be awake, probably sitting at the kitchen table sipping her coffee and reading the scant pages of the
Sentinel.

I wasn’t in the mood for her questions, though.

Maybe I’d just walk.

If I’d gotten an hour more sleep than I had managed, I would have done just that, but I really didn’t have any choice, since we’d lost our one taxi service a long time ago.

As I’d expected, she was awake, and answered on the first ring.

“Momma, I need a ride.”

“Suzanne, why aren’t you at the donut shop? Did something happen to your Jeep on the way over there? No, you’ve been gone hours, so it can’t be that.”

There was no way I was going to get out of an explanation, but I didn’t have to do it in the radio station parking lot. Still, I had to give her something. “Lester Moorefield is dead, and someone left one of my pastries on the scene to implicate me. I don’t want to get into it now. Could you come to the radio station?”

“I’ll be there in six minutes,” she said.

While I was waiting, the chief came back out. “Sorry it’s taking so long. Do you want me to drive you back myself?”

“Thanks, but Momma’s coming for me.”

He stood up straighter at the news, and I saw him pull in his stomach, even though my mother was nowhere in sight. The chief had a crush on my mother that dated back to their days in high school, and it was readily apparent to everyone in town that the flames had only grown brighter since.

When Momma drove up, I wasn’t all that surprised when the chief walked me to her car.

“Good morning, Dorothy,” he said as he tipped his hat to her.

“Hello, Phillip.”

“I was wondering if I might have a word with you?” he asked.

“At this hour? I need to get Suzanne back to her shop.”

He wasn’t about to be denied, though. “This won’t take a second.”

Momma put the car in park. “Very well, if you can make it quick.”

She got out, and I started to follow them.

Momma wasn’t about to allow that, though. “Wait in the car, Suzanne. I won’t be a minute. I promise.”

As much as I wanted to hear what the chief had to say, I knew that tone of voice. I walked to the car and sat in silence. Just because I wasn’t able to eavesdrop didn’t mean I couldn’t watch them. The chief said something to her, she frowned, shook her head, and then started to walk back to the car. He said something else with some urgency, and she paused just long enough to look back at him for a moment and make one parting comment.

By the time Momma got to the car, I was dying to hear what had been so important about their conversation.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“I want to hear about what happened to Lester,” Momma said.

I wasn’t about to let her get away with that. “I saw the way you two were talking. You weren’t discussing the cycles of the moon. What did he have to say?” Before she could reply, I quickly added, “Momma, you know better than anybody in the world that I’ve got a stubborn streak bigger than yours. Why don’t you make it easy on both of us and tell me what just happened.”

She mulled that over for thirty seconds, and while she did, I kept my mouth shut. The only thing I could do to wreck it right now was to say something she could use to rebut my argument.

“Very well,” she finally said. “He told me he’s moved out of his house and filed for divorce. His wife wants out as well, so she’s going to Nevada to make it happen quickly.”

“So the grapevine’s true yet again,” I said. “Was that all?”

“Isn’t that enough?” Momma asked.

I replayed what I’d seen of their conversation in my mind. “He said something else, didn’t he? You weren’t pleased to hear it, either.”

“Suzanne, were you spying on me?”

I smiled brightly at her. “You bet I was. What else did he say?”

“If you must know, he asked me out to dinner,” Momma said.

She was clearly expecting a reaction from me, but I wasn’t going to give her one.

After a moment, Momma asked, “Are you telling me that you don’t have any comment about that?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I paused a second, and then said, “I do have a question, though.”

She took a deep breath, and then before I could ask, she said, “I turned him down. No one should be surprised by that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him,” I said.

She looked shocked by my response. “I wasn’t aware you’d become such a big fan of our chief of police, Suzanne.”

“We don’t always see eye to eye, but it wouldn’t kill you to go out on a date. If you don’t like him, pick someone else. Isn’t it time you let Dad go?”

She pulled up in front of Donut Hearts, and I could see that Emma had her hands full inside the shop. I should have jumped out and run in to help her, but this was more important to me.

BOOK: Evil Eclairs
6.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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