Sinister Sprinkles (18 page)

“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “Suzanne, I don’t know how you and Emma do it every morning. Your schedule is already killing me.”

“You get used to it after a while,” I said, fighting back another yawn.

Grace matched mine, then said, “Okay, if you keep that up, you’re going to put me to sleep, too. You don’t have to stay up and baby-sit me, Suzanne. I’m perfectly capable of entertaining myself.”

“I know you are,” I said. “I just hate to leave you alone.”

“With you and your mother upstairs, I feel safe here.”

I grinned at her. “Really? I doubt either one of us would be much help if there was trouble.”

“Just having two other people around is enough to ease my mind.” As I stood, she did, too, and Grace retrieved my softball bat from the corner by the door. “Besides, if somebody tries anything, I’m ready for them.”

“If you’re sure, then.”

“Go to bed, Suzanne.”

I did as she asked, and found myself falling asleep even as I tumbled into my bed.

*   *   *

The next morning, I crept downstairs and found Grace asleep on the couch. A blanket was falling off her shoulders and the softball bat was tucked firmly in her arms. I covered her back up, stoked the fire, and added another log, then grabbed a quick bowl of cereal and headed off to the donut shop.

To my surprise, the lights were all on when I got there, and I could see Emma working inside on her hands and knees, cleaning the painted concrete floor.

“Morning,” I said as I walked in, locking the door behind me. “Did we agree to come in early today?”

“No,” she said as she continued to scrub the floors of the dining area. “I just thought with all this snow we’ve been having, it might not be a bad idea to spruce the place up a little. Don’t worry, this isn’t on the clock.”

“If you’re here and you’re working, it’s on the clock,” I said, and then it hit me. “Emma, I don’t care what your father said, you don’t owe me anything, not restitution, and not extra hours of work.”

“He doesn’t even know I’m here,” she said, “but Suzanne, please don’t make me stop. I feel so bad about what happened, I have to do something, or I’m afraid I won’t be able to work here anymore.”

“You’d quit before you’d let me make you stop?” I asked.

“I don’t want to. I love working here, but if you don’t give me any choice, then yeah, I guess I’d have to leave.”

“Then work on,” I said as I stepped around her. “You missed a spot,” I added as I pointed to a place in the corner.

She started to get up when I said, “I’m kidding.”

“No, you’re right. I can see it from here.”

I hung my coat up in back, then grabbed a pair of rubber gloves and joined her.

She looked startled by my presence on the floor beside her. “You don’t have to do this. It’s my job.”

I took a sponge from the bucket and started wiping down a section of the floor she hadn’t hit yet. “Let’s just say you’re not the only one who should do penance for making a mistake.” As I wiped away some mud and a little grime, I said, “Besides, this kind of work can be really cleansing, you know?”

I watched her get my pun, and saw a smile break out of the tense gloom she’d been expressing a few minutes before. “Yeah, it’s really nice to be able to wipe away a problem, isn’t it?”

“A clean sweep, that’s what we need here. Now enough with the puns. Let’s finish this so we can start making donuts.”

“It’s tough being clever this early in the morning, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” I said as I wiped the last section we hadn’t hit yet. “Sometimes I feel like I wake up brilliant and get dumber by the minute as the day goes on.”

“I’m just the opposite,” she said. “I’m a night person, myself.”

“Then you really aren’t suited temperamentally for this job, are you?”

She grinned at me as we both stood. “That depends on how you look at it. I like to think of it as the night before, not the morning after.”

“Hey, as long as it gets you in here on time, I’m all for it.” As I took off the gloves and handed them to her, I said, “You finish cleaning up, and I’ll get started on the cake donut batters.”

“I won’t be a minute,” she said.

She was as good as her word, and as I mixed the batters for our morning supply of cake donuts, Emma said, “Suzanne, in all seriousness, I love it here. I really do.”

“Me, too,” I agreed. “There’s really nothing else quite like it.”

“So,” she said as she looked down at my batter stations, each ready for their special ingredients. “Do you think I could try a new cake donut recipe today? I’ve been dying to try it, and this is the perfect chance.”

“Be my guest,” I said. “As soon as I’m done with these, the kitchen’s all yours.” As I mixed the ingredients for the old fashioneds, the plain cakes, the blueberry, pumpkin and whole wheat donuts, Emma began amassing an odd assortment of things for her own mix. I liked to experiment myself, and I was glad to see she was taking an interest in trying her own hand at coming up with new recipes. Sometimes it was tough offering enough things that were different to keep my customers out of a rut. I figured if I kept adding new items to the menu, they’d keep coming back to try them.

“Candy canes? Really?” I asked as I saw her crushing some of the candies in our mortar and pestle.

“You mind your donuts, and I’ll mind mine,” she said with a smile.

“Okay, but you’re cleaning the mess up.”

“Don’t I always?”

As I added different batters to the donut dropper and fried them, Emma left her batter for a few minutes and started helping me glaze mine after they’d been turned and pulled out of the fryer.

“I think I’m ready,” she said as she returned to her blend and put the finishing touches on her batter. I could see chunks of candy canes in the mix, and wondered how they’d turn out.

At least she’d made a small batch.

“Would you like to fry them yourself?” I asked as I handed her the stainless steel dropper. I’d rinsed it out in the sink, and it was now ready for her mix.

“No, I’d rather you do it, if you don’t mind.”

“I’d be glad to.” I spooned the batter into the dropper, and as I did, I caught the overwhelming scent of peppermint.

“That’s not all from the candy, is it?”

She admitted, “No, I used some peppermint essence to give it a little boost. Why, did I use too much?”

“We won’t know until they’re fried,” I said. I had my doubts, but I was going to keep them to myself.

I dropped half a dozen donut rounds into the fryer, waited for them to finish on one side, then flipped them with my wooden skewers so they’d cook on the other side.

“They’re certainly colorful,” I said as I pulled them out and put them on the glazing rack. I didn’t know how many candy canes she’d used, but I would have cut that portion in half myself. As for the peppermint flavoring, I had no idea how strong or weak it might be, but from the aroma, I had a feeling they were going to be awfully sweet.

Emma glazed them, then said, “I can’t taste it, I’m too nervous. You try one.”

I wouldn’t let her chicken out, though. “Come on, you made the recipe; it’s your privilege to try the first one.”

“Privilege, or obligation?” she asked, but she still took one, broke it in half, and tried a bite of it.

“Wow, too much peppermint flavoring,” she said as she waved a hand in front of her mouth.

“Let me see,” I said as I broke off my own bite. I took a smaller piece than Emma had, but I could still feel my nasal passages opening up from the strong flavoring.

“They’re horrible, aren’t they?” she asked.

“It’s not bad for a first try. Next time, I’d cut the candy cane portion and the peppermint in half.”

“Or more,” she said.

I pointed to the prep counter. “Go ahead and mix up another batch; we have time before we have to start the yeast donuts.”

“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll wait until another day to try it out again. I’m not sure I could face tasting another one right now.”

“Coward,” I said as I started to clean the donut dropper out in the sink. The batter washed down easily enough, but there were bits of peppermint blocking the strainer.

Emma watched me for a few seconds, then she nudged me to one side. “I’ll do that. It’s my job, and besides, I’m the one who made the mess.”

“What do you want to do with these?” I asked as I pointed to the five donuts remaining on the glazing grid.

“Toss them out,” she said.

I started to do as she asked, then on an impulse, I set a few aside. If Max had been around, I would have been tempted to serve him one out of pure meanness. Thinking of him made me wonder what my ex-husband was up to, and where he was at the moment. Was he still in April Springs, or had he taken off as soon as he’d realized that Chief Martin was after him? And what about Muriel? Was she holed up in someone else’s house, or was she in more trouble than that? If she was someone’s target, I wouldn’t have blamed her for leaving town, and might have done the same thing myself if I didn’t have a donut shop to run. I discounted the theory that they were together, since I still couldn’t wrap my head around that particular idea.

But I still wished I knew where they were, and if they were safe.

Maybe today would offer some answers.

It would be a nice change of pace.

So far, all I’d been able to generate was more questions, and I had more of those than I could handle at the moment.

*   *   *

George was waiting at the front door at 5:30 when I walked out to open the shop. The snow looked to be finally gone for good, but the temperatures had plummeted, and I couldn’t imagine why he was outside braving the cold just to get into my shop.

I held the door open for him, and as I stepped aside to let him in, I said, “Come on in. It’s freezing out there. Why didn’t you knock on the door? I didn’t know you were out here.”

“I could wait,” George said as he took off his coat.

“That’s just silly,” I said. “Come on in and warm up.”

George shrugged as he looked at me. “Is that what I get for being considerate? It’s like I always say, no good deed goes unpunished.”

“Have some coffee,” I said as I filled a mug and shoved it into his hand.

He took a healthy sip, then said, “That hits the spot.”

I nodded. “I think so, too. Let me get you a couple of donuts, and then we can talk.”

George sniffed the air. “Is that peppermint? I love peppermint. I’ll take three of whatever that is I smell.”

“They aren’t ready for sale yet,” I said. “We got the flavor too intense in the first batch, but we might have some ready in a few days.”

“That’s not fair,” George said. “You know I’ve never had a problem with being a guinea pig. At least bring me one to try.”

He’d insisted, and I could see from the look on his face that he was serious. “Hang on.” I walked back into the kitchen to get one for him.

“Customers already?” Emma asked as she looked up from the sink where she was doing another round of dishes.

“George is out there,” I said.

I tried to sneak one of her peppermint donuts from the place where I’d stashed them, but she caught me at it. “I thought I smelled those. You were supposed to throw them away.”

“I was going to, but George really wants one.”

Emma stepped in front of me, blocking my way. “You’re not giving him one, are you? Suzanne, those things are lethal.”

“I figure he’s a big boy, he can make up his own mind. Besides, he’s not going to give up until he gets a bite.”

She reluctantly stepped aside, then followed me out of the kitchen. Before I could give the donut to George, Emma said, “I just want you to know that she’s doing this against my will. They’re too strong.”

“I don’t mind. I like things strong,” George said.

We were both watching him as he raised the donut to his lips.

He hesitated at the attention, then George said, “I’m not in the circus, you don’t have to watch me.”

“We’re not about to miss this,” I said, “So you might as well go ahead and take a bite. Hang on a second.” I grabbed a bottled water from the mini fridge and put it down in front of him.

“What’s that for?”

“I’ve got a feeling you’re going to need it,” I said.

He shook his head. “This is nonsense.” George took a bite, chewed it, and beyond my expectations, somehow managed to swallow. He kept his expression even as he said, “I got a bit of candy cane in that bite. I don’t know what you two are talking about. I think they’re good.”

Emma said, “Trust me; I don’t think this recipe is ready for prime time yet.”

George shook his head. “I really liked it. In fact, if you have any more, I’ll take another one.”

Emma said with disbelief, “I’ll be right back.” In a second, she returned with the last two. “There you go.”

As George took another healthy bite, she shook her head. “If you don’t need me, I’m going back to the dishes.”

After she was gone, I said, “Now, would you like more donuts, or did you get up at this abysmal hour to discuss something more important?”

“I wanted to catch up with you before things got busy,” he said. “I’ve had some luck in my investigation.”

“I found something out that was pretty interesting myself,” I replied. “Do you want to go first?”

“You go ahead,” George said. “I’m waiting for one more call before I can tell you what I might have found out.”

“Okay,” I said. “Hang on one second.” I grabbed a cup of coffee, then rejoined him. After taking a sip, I said, “First of all, going to Cutnip wasn’t as productive at first as I thought it might be. Wilma stonewalled us the entire time we were there, and from the way she spoke about Darlene, she was a saint to work with, and a dear friend to everyone who met her.”

“That’s a natural reaction, isn’t it?” George said. “No one likes to speak ill of the dead.”

“Just wait; there’s more. One of the other beauticians caught up with us outside, and before Wilma could lasso her back in, she told Grace and me that Wilma had a blowout fight with Darlene just before she was murdered.”

“What were they fighting about?” George asked.

“From the sound of it, Wilma accused Darlene of stealing from her, and it got pretty ugly. That’s when Grace and I decided to go by Darlene’s and see what we could find at her place.”