Deadly Donuts (The Donut Mysteries) Read online

  I glanced down at the plain counter, and then I said, “Thanks, but this has worked out fine so far.”

  “Sure, it’s okay,” he said. “I’m just saying, you have a couple of world-class builders sitting right here at your counter, and if you promise us free donuts while we work, we’ll quote you a good price, and we really would do an excellent job for you. Why don’t you take a card, just in case.”

  Before I could reach for the offered card being slid across the counter, the father put an index finger on it, stopping its forward progress dead in its tracks.

  “Apologize to the lady, Henry,” the father said.

  “Pop, if folks don’t know we’re available, how are we going to get new work down the road?”

  “They seem to find us just fine as it is.”

  “Sorry,” Henry said as he turned to me. “I get a little carried away sometimes.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. “Why don’t you let me hold onto your card anyway?”

  “You won’t be sorry,” Henry said, and I could tell that he was starting up with his sales pitch again when his father laid a hand on his son’s shoulder.

  “You’ll have to forgive my son,” the older man said with the hint of a laugh in his voice. “I just changed the business name from Jenkins Construction to Jenkins and Son, and I’m afraid that it’s gone straight to his head. He’s right, though. We do good work, and you could do a lot worse, if you ever need anything done around here.”

  “I’ll remember that,” I said as I put the card in a drawer up front with the others I received in the course of doing business. I didn’t have a big remodeling budget—or any at all, actually—and I knew that I’d never in my lifetime be able to afford a new countertop, especially not one made of mahogany, of all things.

  I’d be lucky to be able to afford a gallon of paint to cover the walls someday.

  I did a little more cleaning, which was something that always seemed to be in order at the front of the donut shop counter whenever we were open, and as I started to top off the construction team’s coffees, the older gentleman put his hand across the top of his cup. “Thanks, but we’d better not.”

  I asked, “Does that mean that you aren’t ready to finish up that dozen donuts you were talking about earlier?”

  “We might be able to do it, but we wouldn’t get any work done today if we did,” he said with a grin as he slid a ten across the counter. “The rest is for you. Have a nice day.”

  “You, too,” I said. “Would you like those coffees to go?”

  “No, we’re fine,” the father said. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  “We’ll be back,” the son said.

  “I’m counting on it,” I said. They would be a nice addition to my clientele. I loved how the father and son had interacted, and it made me wish that my father were still alive. We’d had that kind of relationship; at least I’d always thought so. Then I began to wonder if I really knew the man at all. This other life he’d lived in Union Square had all been news to me, and I tried to wrap my mind around it all, without much success. At least he’d had one good friend in his lowest time. I knew that Angelica was a valuable person to have on your side from firsthand experience, and somehow it comforted me knowing that she had been in his corner. If I were being honest with myself, I’d admit that there was a part of me that didn’t want to keep digging into this case. My ignorance could be better than what I might find out if I kept looking into my father’s earlier life, especially a part of it when Momma wasn’t around.

  But I really had no choice.

  The only thing really going for Grace and me was the fact that Jake was working directly with us, and having him so actively involved in our investigation gave me confidence that ultimately we had a chance of solving Morgan Briar’s murder.

  Unfortunately, even though I didn’t know it yet, that was all about to change.

  Chapter 9

  “Suzanne, have you been listening to the news?” our mayor and my good friend, George Morris, asked urgently as he came rushing into the donut shop ten minutes before we were set to close. His face was pale, and he was nearly out of breath. From the expression on his face, something terrible must have just happened.

  “No. Why? What’s going on?” I asked, wondering what could rattle him so much.

  “Somebody just tried to blow up the governor.”

  Chapter 10

  “What!”

  “Turn on your radio. It just happened,” George said.

  I didn’t have a television at the donut shop, and honestly, I’d never wanted one until that moment. I felt that Donut Hearts was a place to get away from the constantly squawking box, and the most I’d ever allowed was a small radio, usually tuned into a station that played classical music in the background, or one with hits from the past, and that depended on me even remembering to turn it on, which half the time, I forgot.

  I turned it on now, though, searching for a station that broadcast the news, and sure enough, there was a bulletin on the air about the explosion.

  “For those of you just joining us, let me repeat that an assassination attempt was just made on Governor Winston in Raleigh. Details are still sketchy, but it appears that a high-explosive device was detonated at 10:28 a.m. near the governor’s automobile. If not for the governor’s penchant to stop and shake hands with folks lined up to see him, he would have surely been killed in the explosion. Right now, there are reports that there were no fatalities at the scene; however, two members of the governor’s security detail were injured in the explosion, as well as a high-ranking official with the state police. We’ll keep you updated as the story develops.”

  Jake came bursting in as the announcer repeated the story, and he said, “Good, you’ve already heard the news. Suzanne, I’ve got to go. All vacation time has been canceled, as of right now. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but this is something that I’ve got to do. There will be a hundred different law enforcement agents working this case, but this is personal for me. My boss was filling in for me on the governor’s detail when he got hurt. By all rights, that should have been me caught in that explosion, not him.”

  “Jake, it wasn’t your fault,” I said as I hugged him. Was it awful of me to feel relief that he hadn’t been there? I didn’t wish anything bad on his boss, but Jake was safe, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that was more important to me.

  “I should have been there,” he repeated as he handed me a notebook. “Here’s what I’ve got so far. You and Grace are going to have to do this without me. I’ll call you as soon as I can, but don’t wait up, okay?”

  “Okay. Be careful.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not the one who needs to worry; whoever made that bomb is going to be in serious trouble if I’m the one who finds him.”

  After Jake was gone, I turned back to the radio, but it was just more of the same at that point. I looked at George as I told him, “Thanks for letting me know what happened. Can I get you a donut while you’re here?”

  “That’s not such a bad idea,” he said. “Suzanne, don’t forget that I’m here if you need me.”

  “I could never forget you, George,” I said.

  “I mean that I can help you and Grace with your case,” he replied. “Just because I’m mayor doesn’t mean that I can’t still snoop around with the best of them.”

  “I appreciate the offer more than I can tell you, but we both know there are some very good reasons why that’s not a good idea.”

  “Suzanne, if I just did what was sensible all of the time, then I wouldn’t be mayor, now would I?”

  It was true that I was tempted by his offer to help, but I didn’t want to put George in a position where it might jeopardize his job. But then again, looking at his earnest face, I couldn’t just reject his offer outright, either. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If I get in a jam, you’re the one I’ll call, but not until then. Okay?”

  “I suppose i
t will have to do,” he said as he took the offered plain cake donut. “I’d better get back to the office. It’s a sad day all around, isn’t it?”

  “I agree, but from where I’m looking, it could have been a whole lot worse,” I said.

  After George was gone, I walked back into the kitchen and found Emma up to her elbows in sudsy water. As usual, her iPod was blaring away, and after I tapped her on the shoulder, she grinned at me as she pulled off her earbuds. “Sorry, Boss, I must have gotten a little carried away with my music. I didn’t even hear you walk back here.” She must have seen the stern expression on my face, because she asked me, “What’s wrong?”

  “Somebody just tried to blow up the governor,” I said, still not able to wrap my head around the fact. I knew that there had always been deranged madmen among us, but was it just me, or did they seem to be multiplying these days?

  “Oh, no. Is he dead?”

  “Fortunately, no one was killed in the explosion, but a few men were hurt. Jake’s gone to help investigate it.”

  “Then I feel sorry for whoever did it. He’ll find whoever’s responsible,” Emma said. “He’s a good man.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that.”

  Emma nodded, and then she asked, “Is that all?”

  “I just thought you’d want to know.”

  “Thanks,” Emma said as she put her earbuds back in and returned her attention to the dishes. Had she grown so accustomed to the insanity in the world that it didn’t faze her anymore? Different generations, I guess, or perhaps it was the knowledge that it might easily have been Jake who’d been injured that had brought it closer to home to me. I hoped that my boyfriend had a hand in finding the bomber if they managed to hunt him down, but I couldn’t spend too much time worrying about that right now. I was heading up my own investigation again, with Grace by my side, and I had plenty to worry about all on my own. I glanced through Jake’s notebook, and I saw that in his fine hand, he’d laid out not only what he’d done so far, but his plans for the future. It was an excellent glimpse into his methodically trained thought process, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was good at what he did. It seemed to be in stark contrast to the way that Grace and I dug into our cases, mostly just making it up as we went along.

  By the time Emma and I were ready to close Donut Hearts for the day, I’d read through his notes three times. There were several leads worth following up on, but for the most part, I was going to keep digging until something valuable turned up.

  “I don’t understand people these days,” Grace said as she walked into the donut shop after I let her in ten minutes later. Emma was already gone, and I was just finishing up with my deposit for the day. I could have easily closed earlier, since no one had come into the shop after I’d heard the news about the governor. I suppose they were all at home or at work, glued to their television sets. “Can you believe this is really happening?”

  “I know. It’s still sinking in. Have there been any new developments?”

  “Just rampant rumors and speculation all over the airwaves,” she said. “I’ll bet Jake is chomping at the bit to get involved.”

  “They’ve already called him in,” I said. “I’m afraid that it’s just going to be the two of us from here on out.”

  Grace nodded. “I kind of figured that it might be. Butch and Sundance, alone again.”

  “I’d rather think that we were the good guys, not a pair of outlaws,” I said with the hint of a grin. No matter how grim the situation, I knew that I could always count on Grace to lighten the mood.

  “Okay, have it your way. What’s on tap for this afternoon?”

  “As soon as we drop my deposit off at the bank, we need to go to Union Square.”

  “Who do we talk to first?”

  “I want to go to Garrett’s Camera Shop,” I said. I’d looked up specialty stores that sold photographic equipment and offered developing services in the area, and Garrett’s was by far the closest to where Morgan had been staying with his sister. If anyone could give me a lead about who might have reproduced those shots for Morgan, it would be them. I knew that the odds weren’t in my favor, but it was a lead that needed to be followed up on, and whether it was law enforcement trying to solve the case or just Grace and me, some of the same steps still had to be followed.

  “Garrett’s it is,” she said.

  The till balanced to the penny, always a happy event, and after we dropped off the deposit, we drove to Union Square, talking about what would drive someone to do such a crazy thing to the governor. By the time we pulled up in front of Garrett’s in my Jeep, we hadn’t come any closer to finding an answer, and I realized that sometimes, there was no answer. It was a hard pill to swallow, knowing that there were times when the world just didn’t make sense. Momma liked to say that was why she enjoyed her cozy mysteries; the bad guy always got his due in the end.

  It was a real shame that life wasn’t like that nearly enough.

  “Excuse me, can you help us?” I asked the short, thin man behind the counter of the camera shop. He had sharp brown eyes and a fading hairline that told me that he’d be bald soon enough. The shop was full of camera equipment for sale, as well as brightly colored posters depicting scenes from waterfalls, picnics, and several other pleasing scenarios.

  “Of course. I’d be delighted to offer any assistance that I can. What kind of camera would you like? I’ve just gotten a new line of SLRs that are absolutely fantastic. They are on sale this week, with a nice additional lens and case included free.” I saw from his nametag that his name was Jackson Garrett; it appeared that the owner himself was waiting on us.

  “I should have explained myself. We’re not here looking for a camera,” I said, and the man visibly deflated a little. These were tough times for our part of North Carolina, just as they were in the rest of the country, and quite a few small business owners I knew were hanging on for dear life. At least folks were willing and able to still treat themselves to donuts every now and then. It was quite a smaller financial commitment than the wares he was offering, and I was very glad of it.

  “Film, perhaps?” he asked.

  “No, sorry. Actually, we’re here looking for someone who develops film on the side.”

  “I can handle that for you,” he said as he retrieved an empty envelope from a stack on the counter.

  “These are special,” I said.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t do that sort of thing,” he said, refusing to make eye contact with either one of us now.

  I supposed that I had that coming. “You don’t understand. It’s not like that.”

  “Actually, it kind of is,” Grace said.

  “You’re not helping,” I told her, and then I turned back to the owner. “Where could we get a series of photographs printed on a single sheet of paper?”

  “Any good color inkjet printer could do it,” he said.

  “This was on photographic paper,” I replied. “I’m not explaining myself very well, am I?”

  Mr. Garrett reached over to a nearby section and selected a thin packet with the dimensions of a regular sheet of paper. “This is what you’re looking for.”

  I was about to protest when I looked at the heading on the package and read that the paper was indeed photographic paper, fit for any inkjet printer.

  Jake was right. Anyone could do it. But they had to be able to use a computer, and we knew that Morgan hadn’t had even rudimentary skills in that area.

  I didn’t know much about computers or printers, but Grace clearly had a thought. “Do the images have to be scanned into the computer first, or can they just be copied?”

  “With the right machine, they can be copied right onto the paper,” he answered. “There’s so much folks can do for themselves these days, and when you add that to online shopping, a lot of my old customers don’t even bother coming in here at all.”

  I was about to commiserate when Grace grabbed my arm. “Let’s go, Suzanne.”

&nb
sp; I turned to Mr. Garrett and said, “Thank you for your time.”

  “You’re welcome to it. It’s mostly all I have these days,” he said.

  After we were out on the sidewalk in front of the photography shop, I asked Grace, “Why were you so abrupt in there?”

  “Suzanne Hart, I know you. We were going to be there for half an hour talking about the plight of small business owners, and we can’t afford to do that; we have a case to solve.”

  I started to protest, and then I realized that Grace most likely was right. I did tend to empathize a little too much at times. I could feel the man’s pain, but there was nothing I could do about it. If I ever did buy a fancy camera, though, I’d try to go back there to shop for it, but I knew that most likely wasn’t going to happen. It still saddened me about how many businesses were feeling the pinch of a lingering bad economy.

  “I’ve never really done much printing myself,” I told Grace once we were back in her car. “I didn’t know that there were so many options. Heck, I don’t even have a computer at the donut shop. If I need to get online, I just use Momma’s setup at home.”

  “I use one all of the time for work,” Grace said, “but I’ve never needed to copy photographs before. So, that’s another dead end.”

  “I’d say so. Clearly Morgan Briar found someone to help him with those photographs, but I have no idea how we find him.”

  “Then what’s next on our list?”

  “It’s on to the florist,” I said. “Hopefully, we’ll have better luck there.”

  “We’re here about a tight red rosebud,” I told the woman behind the floral counter at Budding Hope Flowers. For some reason, she looked familiar to me, but I couldn’t place her right away. “Do you sell many boutonnières these days?”

  “Not often, but we get customers requesting them occasionally.” She was in her late twenties, and had flaming red hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. There was a sparkle in her eyes, and she looked like a diehard romantic, but then again, she’d almost have to be to own a flower shop, wouldn’t she? To add a little icing to the cake, her nametag said Rose, of all things.