Boston Cream Bribery Read online

  “How about half price?” he asked.

  “Take a sip first, and then we’ll negotiate,” I told him.

  He did as I asked, made a face for a moment, and then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a quarter. “Does that work for you?”

  “I think you’re being overly generous, but I’ll take it,” I said with a slight smile, despite the serious nature of his visit.

  “You really don’t mind if we poke around in this case a little?” Jake asked the chief again.

  “Officially? Of course I can’t condone that kind of behavior from civilians,” he said with a grin.

  “How about unofficially?” I asked him.

  “I don’t like to comment unofficially,” he said, “but if I did, I’d suggest that if someone did decide to look into who clubbed Van, they keep me informed about their progress. I’ve got no fingerprints on the weapon, no eyewitnesses, and nothing that might help me figure out what happened until and unless the victim wakes up. I’m not exactly drowning in leads at the moment, so I’m not going to turn down any help that I can get.”

  “I understand,” Jake said with a nod. “If I were still the chief of police, I’d feel the exact same way.”

  “Believe me, there are times I wish that you were, and I was back to just being Officer Grant,” the chief said as he took another sip of my dreadfully stale coffee.

  “Come on. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing a fine job,” Jake said as he put his hand on the chief’s shoulder.

  “If that were true though, you wouldn’t be digging around in this case too, would you?”

  It was a fair question, and I had no idea how my husband was going to answer it. Jake took a moment, and then he said, “One of the things I’ve learned from Suzanne since I retired from the force is that folks will talk more readily to someone out of law enforcement than in it. I’m not claiming that a great many suspects don’t identify me immediately as an ex-cop, but I’m learning to soften the edges a little bit at a time. I’m beginning to think that I undervalued the help I got from civilians when I was on the job.”

  “Was that actually a compliment?” I asked with a smile.

  “Suzanne, I compliment you all of the time. Don’t act so surprised,” Jake said.

  “I know that, but what can I say? I never get tired of hearing it.”

  “So, who’s made your suspect list so far?” the chief asked.

  “I don’t know if you can call them all suspects, but there are some folks we’re eager to speak with,” I said.

  “Do you mind sharing the names with me?” the chief asked.

  I glanced at Jake, who nodded his approval. “So far, we know that we want to talk to Buford Wilkins, Vivian Reynolds, Bob Casto, and Noreen Walker,” I said.

  “I understand Noreen, since she’s Van’s sister, and I also know that Vivian and Van recently had a bad breakup. It’s no secret that Van and his old partner, Bob Casto, didn’t get along, but what have you got on Buford? I’ve heard some chatter about a few minor disagreements between the two men about how to run the town council, but nothing significant, and certainly nothing that would make me believe that Buford could be involved with what happened to Van.”

  “Oh, we don’t have any suspicions about Buford, at least not yet,” I admitted, “but George thought he might be a good source of information. I understand the two men were close.”

  “Maybe not as much as folks around here believe,” the chief said. “At least that’s the word on the street.”

  “I’ve always been curious about something,” I said. “Where exactly is this street, and why is everybody there constantly talking about everyone else?”

  “Ignore her,” Jake said. “She doesn’t mind being up at this hour.”

  “Now I know that wasn’t a compliment,” I said, “so don’t try to sell it to me as one.”

  “I wasn’t about to,” Jake said with a grin.

  I decided to let the jab slide, and I was about to say something else when there was a knock at the door. It was Sharon, Emma’s mother and Ray’s wife, coming to serve as reinforcements at the donut shop.

  As I let her in, I said, “Thanks so much for coming on such short notice.”

  “I’m happy to do it,” Emma’s mother said as she avoided making eye contact with either man standing there. “Suzanne, I don’t see anyone here but you, and I can’t hear a thing. That way when my husband quizzes me later about my time at Donut Hearts, I can tell him the truth.”

  “I understand,” I said, “and I appreciate it, as I’m sure anyone else nearby might be as well, that is if they were here in the first place.”

  “Speaking hypothetically, they would be most welcome,” she said with a smile as she headed back into the kitchen. “Emma, I’m here,” Sharon called out to her daughter.

  My assistant, now my replacement, at least for the day, poked her head out the door. “Excellent. I have a stack of dirty dishes just waiting for you.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” she said.

  After the mother-and-daughter team were busy at work in back, the chief put his mug down. “I’d better be going. I’ve got a ton of things to do before sunrise.”

  “That’s usually my line,” I said.

  After I unlocked the front door, Jake and I followed him outside. “Thanks for stopping by.”

  “All part of the service,” he said. “I expect to hear from you two later.”

  “You can count on it,” Jake said as he offered his hand.

  After the police chief was gone, I turned to Jake. “Hang on a second. I want to go back inside.”

  “What’s up?”

  “You’ll see,” I said. “I won’t be a minute.” I walked back inside and made my way into the kitchen. I was really glad that I’d already made the cake donuts. “Do you mind if I grab a few dozen for the road?” I asked Emma as I started folding up boxes to transport them.

  “It’s your shop,” she said with a grin. “Help yourself.”

  I put together two dozen treats, then I taped the box lids shut. “Thanks. Have a good day, you two.”

  “You bet,” Emma said as her mother nodded, lost in her music. At least I assumed it was music.

  “What’s she listening to?” I asked.

  “She downloaded some Italian lessons onto her iPod,” Emma explained. “She’s planning her next trip, and she wants to be prepared.”

  “Have you ever thought about going with her on one of her excursions?” I asked.

  “No, that’s Mom’s thing, not mine. I’d just as soon stay right here, make donuts with you, go to class, and hang out with my boyfriend whenever I have the time. It may seem like a simple life, but I’m happy with it.”

  “You know what? I think it sounds lovely,” I said.

  Jake was waiting patiently for me as I emerged from the shop with my boxes. “I thought these might help us.”

  “They certainly couldn’t hurt. Should we head to the hospital now?”

  I looked at the clock on my phone. “It’s still pretty early. Do I have time to go home and grab a quick shower before we get started? I smell like donuts.”

  “You don’t have to shower for me,” my husband said as he took in a deep breath of my scent. “Your donut perfume is wonderful, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “I appreciate that, but I don’t want to attract the wrong crowds,” I said with a smile. “After all, you’re not the only man who likes the scent.”

  “I don’t have any trouble believing that,” he said. “Let’s go home so you can get ready.”

  “Would you like a ride?” I asked as I noticed that his truck wasn’t in sight.

  “Ordinarily I’d walk home, but since you’re offering, sure, why not?”

  I felt great after taking a shower and throwing on clean clothes. D
awn was barely breaking, but I knew that Noreen was most likely already at the hospital standing vigil for her brother, so we’d be able to talk to her without waiting for a decent hour.

  What we did after that would be anyone’s guess, but Jake and I had something to do and someone to interview, and that was enough for the moment.

  “Hey, Noreen,” I said as we found Van’s sister in the emergency room waiting room. I’d stowed one box away in the Jeep and brought the other in with us. “We are both so sorry about Van. How’s he doing?”

  “So far, there’s no change, and no one seems eager to share any word of his condition with me,” she said as she eyed the box in my hands.

  I flipped open the lid and offered her a donut. “Care for a treat?”

  “I don’t think I could,” Noreen replied. Her eyes were red, and the balled-up tissues in her hands told me that she’d been crying.

  “Go on. You need to eat something,” I said. Ordinarily I didn’t like pushing my treats on people, but I thought she could use a boost.

  “Well, maybe just a bite,” she said as she picked out a sour cream donut.

  “That’s one of my favorites, too,” I said. “I’m sorry we didn’t bring any coffee.”

  “I’ll go grab some,” Jake said. He nodded slightly to me, giving me his approval to continue my questioning without him. Noreen had stiffened the moment she’d realized that Jake was with me, and she hadn’t been able to keep from glancing at him since we’d first arrived. My husband had that effect on some people. It was nearly impossible disguising the fact that he’d been a cop for a very long time, and a great many folks were uncomfortable talking around him, no matter how disarming he tried to be. He was working on it, but he still had a way to go. As for me, I was a simple donut maker in most people’s eyes, and I liked it that way. It made it much easier for them to talk to me, and I tried my best to take full advantage of that fact.

  After Jake was gone, I said softly, “You must be terrified about your brother’s situation.” We were in the emergency room waiting area, and there must have been some kind of crash earlier, based on the people milling about so early in the morning and their conversations. It was hard to get the space to speak with Noreen without other folks listening in, but then I realized that none of them were concerned about us at all. They had their own problems to deal with, and as far as they were concerned, Noreen and I weren’t even there.

  “I am worried sick about him,” she said, balling up the tissues in one hand harder and harder. I had great concern for the donut I’d given her based on the rigid way she was holding it as well.

  “Do you have any idea who might have done such a thing?” I asked her as sympathetically as I could manage.

  “I do, but you’re not going to like it, since he’s a friend of yours,” she said icily.

  “I can assure you, no matter what you might think, George didn’t do this to Van,” I said, automatically defending my friend, no matter what it might cost me in my investigation.

  “But then again, you have to say that, don’t you?” Noreen asked. She was around my mother’s age, but the years hadn’t been nearly as kind to her as they had been to Momma. Angry wrinkles showed on her face and hands, and her clothes had been in style a few seasons earlier. I also noticed that her shoes were well worn, and there was a safety pin in the hem of her dress. Noreen tried her best to look prosperous, but it was clear that it was in appearance only, merely a façade of what was really going on with her. That made me wonder about something. Was she her brother’s lone heir? If she was, I had an uneasy feeling that her motive might be the strongest one of all the people in Van’s life. Was she there as his concerned sister, afraid that he would never wake up, or was it more sinister than that? Was she actually afraid that he would regain consciousness soon and be able to name her as his attacker?

  “Suzanne? What are you thinking about?”

  I’d stayed silent for so long that I’d aroused her suspicions, something I couldn’t afford to do if I was going to get her to confide in me. “I was just thinking about the last time I saw your brother,” I lied. “It was at the silent auction. He was so interested in learning about how donuts were made. I’m upset that someone robbed him of the experience. When did you see him last?”

  “I wasn’t at the auction,” she replied. “We had lunch yesterday, though.” Her words faltered a little as she said it, and I had to wonder if something tense had occurred during their meal.

  “Did something happen between you?” I asked. After all, why not go straight to the source for my answer?

  “No, not really,” she said, dismissing my question. “Suzanne, I can’t talk about it, okay? I’m so worried about my brother.”

  “Have they told you anything?” I asked her.

  “Just that the next twenty-four hours are critical,” she said.

  “Would it help talking about who else might have done this?” I asked her. “It might take your mind off Van’s condition.”

  Noreen looked as though she were about to cry again, but she found a way to fight it back. With a look of disgust on her face, she said, “Bob Casto has to be near the top of my list. Those two fought like junkyard dogs not two weeks ago.” It was the first hint of the bitter woman I’d known all along. The only thing that had surprised me was how long it had taken that side of her to come out.

  “What about Vivian Reynolds?” I asked.

  “That tramp? What about her? My brother dumped her for good reason. If she dares to show her face around here, she’ll soon wish that she hadn’t,” Noreen said angrily. For Vivian’s sake, I hoped that she stayed away. The last thing anyone needed was the two of them going at it in the ER waiting room.

  I was about to ask her if there was anyone else we should know about when Buford Wilkins came in. Noreen stood and rushed into his arms as though they were lifelong friends, and I had to wonder about their relationship as their embrace lingered long past when it would have been acceptable to break. Was there something more than friendship going on between the two of them? Though Buford was a short and heavyset man with very little hair, he acted as though he thought he was God’s gift to women. I couldn’t help noticing as he sat down beside her that her hands naturally clutched at his.

  “How is Van doing? Forgive me, but I just heard about what happened.”

  “The doctors are all saying that it’s too soon to tell,” she said.

  “Is he awake yet?” Buford asked eagerly.

  “No, at least not as far as I know. They haven’t told me anything new for hours, though.”

  “We’ll just see about that,” Buford said as he stood. On his way to the front desk, it seemed as though he noticed me for the first time. “What are you doing here, Suzanne?”

  His reaction was a little defensive for my taste. “I thought Noreen should eat something while she was waiting to hear about her brother.” I offered the box to him. “Care for a donut?”

  “No,” he said flatly, and then he must have realized how abrupt he’d sounded. “You know what? I changed my mind. Is the offer still open?”

  “Sure, why not?” I asked, not really wanting to refuse him. After all, my donuts had paved the way for me before when I was questioning folks, and I had high hopes that they would work their magic yet again.

  Buford grabbed the nearest chocolate glazed donut and took a single bite that nearly demolished the entire thing. “Got any coffee?” he asked as crumbs fell out of his mouth.

  It was all I could do not to take a few steps back to get out of the way.

  “Did someone say coffee?” Jake asked as he showed up with a tray holding three cups. “I can’t make any promises, since Barton’s not on duty yet.” As the executive chef of the hospital’s cafeteria, Barton Gleason provided food that was quite a bit above what most folks expected from such fare.

  “Thanks,” Buford s
aid as he grabbed two cups, taking one for himself and handing the other to Noreen.

  Jake looked at me, and all I could do was shrug. We’d get more coffee later. At the moment, this interview was more important.

  Only we weren’t going to get to have it quite yet.

  I saw Noreen suddenly stiffen, and when I looked in the direction she was glaring, I watched as Vivian Reynolds walked in, looking as though she was there to pick a fight.

  And I had a hunch she was about to get exactly that.

  Chapter 5

  “What are you doing here?” Noreen snarled as she got out of her seat in a flash.

  “That’s no concern of yours. I have every right to be here,” Vivian snapped back, clearly unafraid of Van’s sister. She was an attractive woman in a brassy sort of way, and it didn’t surprise me that a great many men found her attractive, though her personality was a little too volatile for my taste. “This hospital is public property.”

  “Van doesn’t need you anywhere near him. You already came close to killing him before. What are you doing here? Are you coming back to finish what you started?”

  Vivian looked as though she’d been physically struck by the words. “I never laid a hand on him,” she protested loudly, making absolutely certain that everyone around heard.

  “Maybe not physically, but you broke his heart,” Noreen said.

  “In case you need reminding, he’s the one who broke up with me,” Vivian countered.

  “Because you cheated on him!” Noreen yelled. We were collecting quite a crowd, and I had to fight my instincts to break the two women up. It wasn’t pretty by any means, but if both of them were highly agitated, maybe they’d let something important slip out. It wasn’t the most compassionate thing I’d ever done in my life, but we needed all the help we could get figuring out what had really happened to Van Rayburn.

  George’s very freedom might depend on it.

  “I did no such thing!” Vivian screamed. “It was all in your brother’s mind!”