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Authors: Jessica Beck

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

Fatally Frosted (3 page)

BOOK: Fatally Frosted
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I let go of the boxes. “No, I’ll just have to trust you this time.”

Max made no move to leave, though. “Now if I could just get you to forgive me for my mistake, we could be good again.”

“Is that what you’re calling Darlene these days?” His tumble with her was the main reason we’d split
up, and I still felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up whenever I saw her around town.

“I keep telling you. There’s nothing going on between us,” he said.

“I’ve heard that record playing before,” I said. “Good-bye, Max.”

“Bye, Suze.”

He knew I hated his pet name for me, but I was too tired to fight about it. I let him out, locked the door, then saw Emma come out through the kitchen.

“Is he gone?”

“Now you’re afraid of Max?” I asked.

Her face reddened slightly. “I was trying to give you two some privacy.”

I laughed bitterly, “You shouldn’t have bothered. There’s nothing between us anymore, and you know it.”

She shrugged. “I still didn’t want to interrupt you. I’m finished in the back. Are you ready to leave?”

I stifled a yawn as I said, “I’d love to, but I’ve still got a stack of invoices sitting on my desk, and if I don’t write the checks, we can’t make the donuts. I’ve been spending far too much time perfecting my beignets.”

She wiped the front counter with her dishrag and said, “Suzanne, for once, just go home. Those bills can wait until next week, can’t they?”

“I suppose so,” I admitted. “You know what, Emma? You’re absolutely right. Let’s both go home.”

She looked surprised by my compliance, then smiled and said, “There you go. That’s the spirit.”

I turned off the lights, then dead-bolted the door as we left.

Out on the sidewalk in front of the shop, I said, “See you tomorrow.”

“No, you won’t,” Emma said. “You get to sleep in, remember?”

“It’s been so long since I’ve been able to, I’ve forgotten what it’s like.”

Emma started toward her car, then turned back to me and grinned. “I’ve got a feeling it will come back to you pretty fast.”

“If you need me, don’t be afraid to call me on my cell phone,” I said.

“Not a chance. Mom and I have it covered.”

I nodded, then got into my Jeep and headed home. Gabby Williams had been out front, no doubt waiting to snare me into her gossiping trap, but I didn’t have the time or the inclination to hear what she had to say today. I was going home to grab a quick nap, then I was going to find something fun to do. I needed a break. I’d been stressing out since Marge had asked me to cook for her, and tomorrow, I’d be put to the test.

I just hoped it was one I could pass.

I drove my Jeep home, hoping for a peaceful evening, but doubting I’d get it. After I’d found Max in bed with Darlene, I’d run home to my mother, and I hadn’t left her house in the years since. We lived on the edge of the April Springs city park in a bungalow that sometimes felt two sizes too small for the both of us. Mostly we’d hammered out a good living arrangement, and I had to admit that it was nice to have someone to come home to, even if it was just my mother. It would be good to talk to her today about
the pressure I was feeling from tomorrow’s show. She’d find a way to reassure me.

To my surprise, the house was deserted.

After looking around the house, I found a note on the kitchen table, propped up against the mallard duck napkin holder my dad had made a few months before he died.

The note said, “Gone to Union Square. Back late. Fend for yourself for dinner.”

I didn’t really feel like eating by myself. If Jake were anywhere near April Springs, I’d call him, but he was working a case on the Outer Banks, as far away as he could go and still be in North Carolina. I grabbed my cell phone and called Grace Gauge, who was my best friend, even if she was three pounds within her ideal body weight while I hadn’t seen mine since elementary school. Grace was a sales rep for a national cosmetics company, and her hours were extremely flexible, something that worked perfectly with my own odd work schedule.

She picked up on the second ring. “Hey, where are you?”

“I’m in Charlotte, stuck in traffic. Where are you?”

“I’m home, and without anyone to eat with tonight. Any chance you want to grab something with me? It’s my treat.”

Grace said, “Suzanne, how can you be that sure I don’t already have plans?”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. Do you have a big date or something?”

Grace laughed, then said, “No, but I was just wondering how you’d know that. Actually, dinner sounds great.” I heard a horn honking in the background,
and she added, “No matter how many times I come to Charlotte, I always seem to get lost.”

“I know what you mean,” I said. “How does five o’clock sound? Will you be back in town in time?” One of the problems with my donut shop’s operating hours was that I could never eat at six or seven, like most folks in town. With a bedtime at eight, it didn’t leave a great deal of time for regular dating, not that it had been an issue with Jake’s crazy schedule.

She paused long enough to blow her own horn, then said, “I tell you what. I’ll leave right now. That way I’ll be back in plenty of time.”

“Don’t do it on my account. As soon as we hang up, I plan to take a nap, then grab a quick shower before we go.”

Grace said, “Maybe I’ll make a few more calls, then. I’ll see you at five. And Suzanne?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks for calling. I was just teasing before.”

“I know that,” I said. “See you soon.”

After we got off the phone, I thought about taking a shower before I laid down, but that would probably just wake me up, and what I needed at the moment more than anything else was a nap. I’d have to live with the smell of donuts in my hair and on my clothes for now. Honestly, I’d grown so accustomed to the scent that I barely noticed it anymore.

Instead of going up to my room to sleep though, I sprawled out on the couch, feeling decadent grabbing an afternoon nap. I was looking forward to dinner with Grace. It had been too long since we’d just hung out together, and I’d missed it. Maybe I’d splurge and
take her to Napoli’s, the place Jake and I liked to eat whenever he was in town.

For background noise, I flipped on the television, stopped on a station with a benign infomercial before dropping the sound next to nothing, and found myself quickly drifting off to sleep.

A persistent knock on the door brought me out of my deep sleep, and as I jolted upright on the couch, I felt disoriented for just a second. I glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel as I got up, and saw that it was two minutes after five.

Grace was at the door, dressed in her work attire, a suit that was worth more than my entire wardrobe. In my opinion, one of the joys of owning a donut shop was not having to dress up for work, but my friend differed. Sometimes I think she worked just to support her clothes habit.

Grace’s smile faded slightly as I opened the door, still rubbing my eyes.

She said, “I woke you, didn’t I? Have you been asleep the entire time?”

I nodded. “Sorry, it’s been a hard week. I’ve been putting in some extra hours at the shop practicing my beignets.”

“Suzanne, let’s do this another time. You must be exhausted.”

I grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. “Are you kidding me? I haven’t felt this good in months. Give me six minutes, and I’ll be ready to go.”

“Where are we eating?” she asked.

“I thought Napoli’s might be fun. Like I said before, it’s my treat.”

“That nap did do you good, if you’re really willing to pick up the check at a place like that.”

I stuck my tongue out at her. “Just for that, you’re not having dessert.”

She put a hand over her heart. “I’ll manage, somehow.” Grace glanced at her watch, then said, “You’d better get moving. You’re on the clock.”

“It might not be six minutes exactly,” I said as I headed for the stairs.

She tapped the face of her watch. “One second too long, and I get dessert after all. Something decadent, I think, and I might not share.”

“If you do, I promise to take seven or eight minutes instead.”

“That’s a deal. Now shoo.”

I went upstairs, took a lightning-fast shower, then picked out a decent outfit to wear so it wouldn’t look like Grace was slumming by eating with me. I owned one really good dress, something I’d bought at Gabby’s secondhand clothing shop, but I wasn’t about to dress that nicely. I’d worn it out with Jake a few times, but I didn’t feel like wearing it with Grace now.

As I came down the stairs, Grace was frowning.

I asked, “What’s wrong?”

“You beat the clock by thirteen seconds,” she said.

“Then cheer up. In honor of my quickness, we’ll get a dessert to celebrate.”

“I’m feeling better already,” she said. “Do you mind if I drive?”

“You’re not a big fan of my Jeep, are you?”

She shrugged. “It’s fine sometimes, but I like riding in my BMW better.”

“Fine, if you’re willing to drive, I’m willing to ride in your fancy car.”

As we drove to Union Square—a town thirty minutes away from April Springs—Grace asked, “So, are you excited about the big event tomorrow?”

“I am, but it’s tempered with equal parts of nervousness and anxiety. The kitchen home tour is a pretty big deal.”

“You’re telling me. Don’t forget why you’re doing it.”

“I know, it’s a favor for a friend.”

She shook her head. “I mean the bigger reason. It should raise a lot of money for the town. At first I thought twenty dollars a ticket was a little high for April Springs, but from what I’ve heard, the tour’s almost sold out for the first weekend.”

“I didn’t need to hear that,” I said. “I’m jittery enough as it is.”

“Suzanne, you make the best donuts in our part of North Carolina. I’m sure whatever you make will be wonderful.”

I started to tell her beignets were on the menu first, but she stopped me. “Don’t say another word. I want to be surprised when I walk into Marge’s kitchen next weekend. She must be an absolute wreck. Marge Rankin isn’t exactly the socializing kind, is she?”

“She’s trying. This is her way of coming out into April Springs society now that she’s inherited some money. To be honest with you, I think she used the idea of a kitchen tour as an excuse to gut her old layout and replace everything. It’s absolutely stunning now,” I said.

“I’m excited to see it,” Grace said. “I won’t be able
to come this weekend, though. I’ve got a quick trip for business I have to make, and I’m leaving first thing in the morning.”

“Another one of those resort sales meetings?” I asked.

She smiled as she explained, “I can’t help it if they’re mandatory. We’re going to the beach, and I don’t play golf, so after the meeting, I plan to do a little shopping.”

“I wish I could come with you.”

“You know you’re always welcome,” she said, “if you can ever leave that shop of yours.”

After a few minutes, Grace glanced over at me and asked, “So, is Peg Masterson driving you crazy?”

I laughed. “Are you kidding? She thinks I’m unworthy to be demonstrating on the tour, so she keeps checking with me to see if I’m ready to drop out. I wouldn’t give that nosy old biddy the satisfaction.”

“Good for you,” Grace said.

As she pulled into Napoli’s parking lot in Union Square, she said, “Stand your ground with her, Suzanne. If Peg is at Marge’s place first thing, don’t take any guff from her.”

“Easier said than done, don’t you think? Maybe I’ll bring her a plate of lemon-filled donuts to keep her off my back. She can’t resist those.” I took a deep breath, then added, “Let’s talk about something more pleasant. Are you ready to have dinner?”

“You bet,” Grace said as we got out and walked to the restaurant.

I’d expected the place to be nearly empty, as was almost always the case when I ate there, but I was
surprised to find the vestibule jammed with diners waiting for a table.

“Should we go somewhere else?” Grace asked as she looked at the crowd. “I know how tight your schedule is.”

“Maybe we should,” I said as I started to back out of the door.

Angelica DeAngelis—the proprietress and matriarch of her four-daughter staff—saw me before I could get away.

“Excuse me, people, I need to get through,” she said as she made her way through the crowd toward us. “Suzanne, your table is ready.”

That was a neat trick, since I hadn’t called for a reservation, and she had no idea we were coming.

An older man with bushy gray eyebrows that threatened to take over his face, said, “Hey, we were here first.”

“But you failed to call ahead for a reservation, didn’t you?” she said, clicking her tongue at him.

“We didn’t think we’d need to this time of day,” he grumbled.

“Then apparently, you were wrong,” Angelica said as she led us through the mass of people.

Once we were past the cashier’s station, I was surprised to see that the tables in the dining room were mostly empty.

I frowned at her as I said, “Angelica, you know you didn’t have to show us preferential treatment.”

She beamed at me as she said, “I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to, do I? It’s my place, after all, isn’t it?”

Grace said, “Suzanne, don’t argue with the nice lady who’s going to feed us.”

Angelica smiled at her. “There’s the voice of reason I’ve been hoping for.”

I touched the owner’s shoulder lightly. “I don’t want you to lose any of your customers on my account.”

She laughed bitterly. “Are you kidding me? One of my brilliant daughters who shall remain nameless decided we needed a promotional gimmick for our early hours. She offered a twenty-five-percent discount before six
PM
in our
April Springs Sentinel
ad, and this is what we get for it.”

“I must have missed it,” I said.

“I wish
they
had,” she said as she gestured to the waiting area. “We’re not making a dime on it, and I doubt many of these folks are going to be long-term customers.”

“How long are you going to keep them waiting?” I asked.

“I’m tempted to wait until six,” she said. “But I won’t.” As she walked back to the front, she said, “I’ll send Maria to your table, but don’t tarry over the menu. Things are going to be crazy pretty soon.”

BOOK: Fatally Frosted
13.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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