Fatally Frosted Read online

  “I’m a grown woman, Trish. I don’t need to be shielded from anything.”

  “Suit yourself,” she said. Trish took in my outfit, then added, “I’ll say this for you. At least you look good.”

  I wanted to smile, but I had a hard time coming up with one. “Hey, I always look good. Today, I just look a little better.”

  She was called to the register by a customer wanting to pay, and I started looking for a place to sit.

  Then I saw why she’d tried to warn me off. Sitting in a booth near the back was my ex-husband Max, as handsome and charming as ever. I was used to seeing him around town, but it was his dining companion that threw me off step.

  He was with Darlene Higgins, the woman he’d slept with the day he’d thrown our marriage away. I didn’t like her and took pleasure in the fact that although her blonde hair was natural, I suspected her curves were not. For just a moment, I wanted to duck out, but then, steeling my nerve, I walked straight toward them.

  “Hi, Max,” I said. “Hello, Darlene.”

  To Max’s credit, he looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Darlene, on the other hand, appeared to want to take out a front page ad in the newspaper.

  “Suzanne, hi,” Max said. “I was having lunch, and Darlene just came over and sat down. Would you like to join us?”

  She looked as though she’d rather eat glass than share a seat with me, and I thought about joining them just to spite her, but that was more than my stomach could take. “No, thanks,” I said. “I just came by for some pie to go.” There was no way I was going to sit there with Grace while my ex-husband was on a date.

  Darlene said, “I admire you for that. It’s awfully brave of a woman your age to just let herself go and eat whatever she wants.”

  I looked at her half a second, then said, “I have to admit, it’s certainly a great deal easier once you stop trying to hold onto someone who doesn’t want to be with you. But then you’d know all about that too, wouldn’t you?”

  Before she could rebut, or Max could protest, I added, “You know what? I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. Good-bye.”

  I left the grill, and was surprised to find that Max had followed me out.

  “That wasn’t what it looked like,” he said.

  “Max, were you under the impression that I still cared? You don’t owe me any explanations anymore. We’re divorced, remember?”

  He nodded. “I’m not likely to forget. I didn’t invite her to lunch, I didn’t ask her to sit down, and I was trying to get rid of her when you walked in.”

  “You didn’t look like you were trying that hard,” I said as I continued walking toward my Jeep.

  “You look really great,” he said as he watched me move away.

  “Oh, Max,” I said as I laughed, though there was no joy in it. “You’re losing your touch. In the old days, you would have led with that.”

  I got into the Jeep and drove away, and as I turned the corner, I glanced back and saw that Max was still watching me.

  What was wrong with me? I hadn’t handled that situation well at all, and I knew it. Why should I care who Max chose to eat with, and why was it bothering me so much? I was finally free of him. Or was I? I hated to admit it—and would have denied it if confronted with the truth—but my first reaction upon seeing Max with Darlene was jealousy, pure and simple. I wasn’t sure if that meant I was still carrying a little torch for him, and if I was being honest about it, I wasn’t at all certain I wanted to find out.

  Leave the past to the past, I told myself and dialed Grace’s number to ask her to meet me at home.

  It would be easier said than done, though, and I knew it.

  When she walked up onto the front porch, Grace took in my outfit, and then said, “Did you get dressed up for Marge, or was there another stop on your list?”

  “No, I was just trying to impress her.” I wasn’t going to tell her about running into Max and Darlene, at least not yet. I wasn’t sure myself what it meant, and didn’t want to have to explain it to her.

  Grace nodded. “Go on, tell me what happened.”

  “Why don’t we go inside? Give me two minutes so I can change into jeans, and I’ll join you in the living room.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll stay out here. It’s a beautiful day,” she said.

  “Momma’s out walking, if you’re worried about that.”

  “No, I just don’t get enough fresh air in my life,” she said.

  “That sounds good. I’ll be back soon,” I said. Good as my word, I came back out in five minutes, with blue jeans and an old football jersey on, my hair pulled back into a ponytail.

  “That’s the girl we all know and love,” Grace said the second she saw me.

  “Can I help it if I’m more comfortable this way?”

  “Are you kidding me? There are days I’d be willing to take a pay cut and trade places with you, just so I wouldn’t have to dress up.”

  I smiled at her. “Anytime you want to swap career paths, just let me know.”

  “You don’t mean that, and neither do I,” she said with a laugh. “Tell me how Marge reacted to you grilling her. I’ve been dying to know.”

  “She was fine, at least at first,” I admitted. “When I started pushing her, though, she wasn’t too pleased with me. Burt showed up, if you can believe that, and he practically threw me out of her house. The thing is, I can’t be sure he wasn’t there the entire time, eavesdropping on us.”

  Grace stared out at the park for a minute, then said, “It sure sounds like they’ve got something to hide.”

  “I’m starting to think so, too.”

  I hesitated, thinking about telling her about my encounter with Max right then, but decided not to. Grace wasn’t my ex-husband’s biggest fan, and I didn’t want to add any fuel to the flames. She could tell I was holding back on her, though. “Suzanne, what else happened? Are you sure you didn’t see Jake?”

  “Not since I got dressed up.”

  She stopped us swinging. “If it’s not Jake, then who is it?” Grace frowned for a moment, then said, “Tell me it’s not Max.”

  I couldn’t keep it from her any longer. “I would if I could, but you know how much I hate lying to you.”

  Grace shook her head sadly. “He’s no good for you, Suzanne.”

  “I saw him at the Boxcar grill with Darlene,” I said flatly.

  “No. They’re together again? I thought that was a one-time thing. At least that’s what Max has been telling everybody.”

  Staring down at my hands, I said, “He tried to tell me they weren’t together, but they looked pretty cozy.”

  “I’m amazed Trish didn’t stop you before you saw them.”

  I shrugged. “She tried to, but I was too dense to pick up on what she was trying to tell me. Don’t worry, I’m not going to waste any more tears for Max ever again, not if I can help it.”

  Grace put a hand lightly on my shoulder. “That’s best, and deep in your heart, you know it.”

  There was no way I was going to tell her how I’d felt when I’d seen Max and Darlene together. I was certain it would do nothing more productive than generate a lecture I didn’t want to hear. “Can we not talk about my ex-husband anymore?”

  “I’d be thrilled if we never mentioned him again,” she said. Grace reached into her purse and pulled out an order sheet for Christmas lights.

  “New lights? Really?” I asked.

  “I couldn’t think of anything else to buy,” she said as she handed me the note I’d seen earlier at Peg’s.

  “They don’t match,” Grace said as I examined them. I could be wrong, but I didn’t think there was any way both of those notes had been written by the same person. Since Burt was ruled out, who did that leave?

  At the moment, I didn’t have a clue. It might not even be a break-up note. I’d just assumed it was when I’d read it.

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll hold onto this,” I said as I tucked the note into my pocket.
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  “Where do we go from here?” Grace asked.

  “I’m not sure just yet,” I said.

  I looked out onto the park and saw my mother fast approaching. “Let’s drop it for the moment, okay? She still doesn’t know what I’m doing.”

  Grace laughed. “Don’t be so sure about that. That woman has some kind of radar when it comes to you and misbehaving. Remember the time we put Tide in the fountain out in front of the courthouse? How long did it take her to find out, and make us clean up the mess ourselves?”

  “Okay, we should have bought a new jug instead of draining hers, I admit that. We weren’t exactly master criminals back then, were we?”

  “No, but think how much trouble we could get into now, if we really put our heads together.”

  Momma approached, and before she could say anything, I fired one of my preemptive strikes. “Did you have a nice walk? It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

  “It was lovely. How was Jake?”

  “I didn’t get a chance to see him,” I said.

  Momma nodded. “Don’t give up.” She studied each of us in turn, then she said, “You two are up to something.”

  “Do you automatically assume that Grace and I are doing something we shouldn’t be doing?”

  “Based on your past history, it’s really not that great a leap of reasoning, now is it?” she said with a smile.

  I started to protest again when Grace began laughing beside me. “She’s got us there, and you know it.” Then she turned to my mother and said, “We were planning another bubble assault on city hall.”

  “Let me grab my purse and I’ll help,” my mother said.

  “Mrs. Hart, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  She looked at Grace and smiled. “There’s a great deal you don’t know about me, young lady.”

  “I’m beginning to realize that,” she said.

  I said, “On second thought, if you two are planning a bubble run, count me out. I’m in enough trouble with the chief of police as it is.”

  Momma asked, “Anything recent, Suzanne?”

  “Do you mean besides being at a murder scene where one of my donuts was used to kill someone that nobody in town really liked? I guess if you discount all of that, he doesn’t have a single motive in the world not to like me.”

  My mother clicked her tongue at me. “You’re problem is that you never learned how to deal with Phillip Martin.”

  “You know what? I couldn’t agree with you more.”

  Momma gave her head a brief shake, then she said, “I’m going inside for some lemonade. Would you two like to join me?”

  Grace stood as she said, “Thanks, but I’ve got to be going.”

  “Don’t rush off on my account,” Momma said.

  “I’m not. I just have a few more things to do today.”

  My mother nodded. “This time, be sure to get a soap that’s environmentally friendly.”

  “I promise. See you at the church bell tower at midnight.”

  After Grace was gone, my mother asked, “She wasn’t serious, was she?”

  “Honestly, with her, you never know.”

  My mother took in my new, more casual outfit, then said, “I didn’t want to say anything in front of your friend, but I must say, I’m disappointed you changed out of your dress so quickly.”

  “I felt like a lawyer in it,” I said. “This is the real me.”

  My mother shook her head. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. Are you hungry at all?”

  “I’m starving,” I admitted. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I was thinking we could thaw out that leftover lasagna we had last week. With a salad and some garlic bread, it should be all right. I just don’t feel like cooking.”

  “Hey, lasagna sounds great. You heat it up, and I’ll set the table.”

  After we ate, I turned on the television, flipped through the stations twice, then shut it off again. My mother wasn’t a big fan of cable, so we had what we could get from Charlotte and were limited in what we had available to watch. We did have a nice collection of movies on DVD, but I didn’t feel like watching one of those, either.

  Evidently my mother noticed. “You’re restless tonight, Suzanne. Is there something on your mind?”

  “No, for some reason, I’m just out of sorts.”

  She sat beside me. “I know you have friends you can talk to, but I’m here, too. If you need a sympathetic ear, I’m always available.”

  I patted her hand. “Thanks for the offer, but tonight, I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I think I’ll call it an early evening and head upstairs.”

  “Suit yourself,” she said. “Good night.”

  “Night,” I said as I started toward my room. Before I left, though, I turned to her and said, “Thanks, Momma.”

  “For what?” she asked as she picked up her novel.

  “For offering to listen to my problems. One of these days I might just take you up on it.”

  “Any time, Suzanne.”

  I walked into my room and shut the door tightly behind me. I picked up the novel I was reading, but it just couldn’t hold my interest. Staring at my cell phone, I willed it to ring, with Jake on the other end, but it appeared that I lacked those particular powers and it remained mute. At least I could leave him a message.

  “Hi, Jake. It’s Suzanne. I’d like to see you tomorrow, if you can make some time for me. It would be great if we could have a chance to talk.”

  I’d given up on waiting for him to call me. I got his voice mail, which didn’t really surprise me. I knew firsthand how focused he could be when he was working on a case.

  I checked the phone’s battery level, then noticed the inbox indicator flashing in the lower left-hand corner of the display. I’d forgotten all about the calls I’d missed the day Peg had died. I didn’t have anything else to do, so I decided to clear them out, just in case there was something important I may have missed. I was deleting them almost as fast as they were playing when my finger suddenly hesitated over the delete button.

  One of my calls was from Peg Masterson herself, a voice that sent shivers through me as it seemed to reach out from the grave.

  In her unmistakable timbre and tone, she said, “Suzanne, if you insist on doing this, you should know that if you don’t perform up to my expectations, I’m going to get rid of you without a second of hesitation. You will ruin this kitchen tour over my dead body, do you understand me?”

  It took me a second to realize what she was talking about, and then I knew that she must have left the message right after she’d left Marge’s kitchen, and just before she’d been murdered.

  I knew how it would sound to Chief Martin, who was clearly already suspicious about me.

  Without hesitation, I hit the delete button, glad that no one else had heard that particular message.

  SUPER EASY DONUTS

  These are a fun and fast alternative when you just don’t have the time to wait for yeast donuts to rise twice. Delicious, and ready to eat fast!

  INGREDIENTS

  • 1 tablespoon white vinegar

  • ½ cup milk

  • 2 tablespoons shortening

  • ½ cup white sugar

  • 1 egg

  • ½ teaspoon vanilla extract

  • 2–3 cups sifted all-purpose flour

  • ½ teaspoon baking soda

  • ¼ teaspoon salt

  • 1 quart oil for deep frying

  • ½ cup confectioners’ sugar for dusting

  DIRECTIONS

  Stir the vinegar into the milk, then let the mixture stand for a few minutes until it thickens slightly.

  In another bowl, cream the shortening and sugar together until smooth, then beat in the egg and the vanilla until everything is well blended.

  In another bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, and salt, then combine the dry ingredients with the wet, adding a little bit at a time until it is all well blended.

  R
oll the dough out on a floured surface to ¼- to ½-inch thick. Cut out donut rounds and ravioli-sized pieces and let them rest for 10 minutes.

  Add the donuts to the hot oil, turning them once as they brown. Drain them on a rack or paper towels, then dust them with confectioners’ sugar while they are still warm.

  Yield: Makes 8–12 donuts

  CHAPTER 8

  My alarm sprang to life much too early for my taste, and I struggled to shut it off before it managed to wake Momma up, too. She always claimed to not hear it, but I knew that sometimes it roused her from her sleep. As I got dressed and hurriedly ate a bowl of cereal, I turned my telephone on to see if Jake had called me after I’d left him a message. There was a zero on the display when I checked for any new messages, and I wondered why he hadn’t at least tried to get in touch with me.

  As I walked out to my car, I realized that it was a beautiful night—the temperature was somewhere in the mid-fifties and the humidity almost nonexistent—and thought about walking across the park to the donut shop. It was an impulse I squelched, though. There was too much darkness, too many shadows for evil to hide in, and my nerves were tight bands that vibrated with every slight breeze.

  Donut Hearts was dark, as I’d expected it to be, but there was something wrong about the place. It took me a second to realize what it was, and then I noticed that there was something sitting on one of the tables I kept out front for customers.

  As I got closer, I saw that it was one of my lemon-filled donuts, and there was a green miniature plastic sword embedded in the middle of it. Some of the lemon filling had oozed out of the puncture wound, and I was very glad they hadn’t used cherry or raspberry instead. I wasn’t sure if I could handle a filling that looked like blood.

  And that was it. No threatening note, no one lurking in the shadows, just a sad little donut with a skewer jammed into it. If it was a joke, it was in extremely bad taste, and if it was a warning, it was too silly to be frightening. What were they trying to say, stop nosing around or the donut gets it? As threats went, it wasn’t much of one. Probably it was a group of teenagers who thought it would be funny to throw a scare into me.

  Still, just in case it was more serious, I grabbed a plastic glove from inside the shop and put the donut, along with its skewer, safely on a tray and took it back to my office and set it on my desk. Should I call the chief, or maybe one of the local officers more sympathetic to me, or should I go straight to the top and let Jake know what I found?