Choc Churro Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 25 Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

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  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright 2016 by Guardian Publishing Group - All rights reserved.

  All rights Reserved. No part of this publication or the information in it may be quoted from or reproduced in any form by means such as printing, scanning, photocopying or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 1

  Heather folded the cardboard Donut Delights box in three swift motions. She’d become an expert at it. In fact, she could probably fold the box blindfolded in a darkened room to the soundtrack of nails on a chalkboard.

  “Two Choc Churro Donuts for you, sir,” Heather said and used a pair of tongs to feed two of her most recent creations into the depths of the small box.

  She shut it, then handed it over to the customer and flashed a broad smile.

  “Thank you,” he said and fished cash out of his wallet. “Have a good day.”

  “And you,” Heather replied, then rang up the order and gave him his change.

  She brushed her palms off on her apron and sat back down on her stool behind the counter.

  Monday morning, sunny, bright and full of donuts and the rich aroma of coffee. Could it get any better than this?

  “You look happy,” Amy said and hurried over to her. She’d run into the kitchen to check on the next batch of Choc Churro Donuts. “Maricela said they'd be ready in about ten minutes. Are we good until then?”

  “Yeah, we should be fine,” Heather replied. She had about two dozen left before she’d have to restock, though the donuts had flown out of the door and onto plates since they’d opened that morning.

  “I see the Monday morning rush has finally died down,” Amy replied, and sat down beside Heather. She heaved a sigh and wiped her brow. “Thank goodness.”

  “It gets busier every week.”

  “Well, everyone wants to see what’s the new creation of the week,” Amy said. She folded her hands in her lap, then twisted the lip of the pocket on the front of her apron.

  “What’s wrong?” Heather asked, immediately.

  “Nothing. I guess. Oh, I don’t know. It’s just that Kent’s out of town again and I –”

  The front door of the store swung inward, and the bell tinkled overhead. A group of three customers entered and walked toward the counter.

  Recognition bubbled in the back of Heather’s brain. The woman at the front looked so…

  “Oh my gosh. It’s Kate Laverne,” she hissed, under her breath.

  Amy’s eyes went donut-hole-shaped. “Geoff Lawless is right behind her.”

  They shared a glance and Heather rose from her seat and stepped up to her counter.

  What on earth had brought Kate Laverne down from New York? And why, oh why had Geoff come out of hiding only to stroll into her store, backed by a guy who had a pudding bowl haircut and arms the size of tree trunks.

  “That’s the weirdest trio of people I’ve ever seen,” Amy whispered. “Shouldn’t Lord of The Rings music be playing for this?”

  Kate halted in front of the glass counter, and a tiny smile played across her thin lips. “It’s been a while, Heather Janke.”

  “It’s Heather Shepherd, now,” she replied and flashed her wedding ring.

  Kate Laverne had been one of Heather’s ex’s best friends. She inhaled sharply, then forced another smile. “Been busy I see. Married, a new store, and you’ve picked up a pet along the way.” Kate’s gaze danced toward Amy.

  “Don’t you have to be in high school to say stuff like that?” Amy asked, and scratched her temple. “Or at least in a B grade movie.”

  “What can I help you with, Kate?” Heather asked, and it bit at every last reserve of her patience to talk kindly to this woman.

  She’d made Heather feel inadequate through all the years she’d lived in New York with her ex-husband.

  Kate looked back at Geoff, then chuckled. “I believe you’ve met my brother.”

  Amy’s jaw dropped. Heather had to grip the edge of the table to keep from tipping over backward.

  Geoff Lawless and Kate were related?

  Heather swallowed twice, then focused on Lawless, instead. She ignored the massive guy behind him. “Geoff, where have you been? There was a murder in your store last week. Your business is failing. I’ve been worried.”

  “Oh please,” Kate said and clicked at Geoff to prevent him from answering. “Geoff’s told me all about your attempts to undermine him as a baker.”

  Amy snapped her jaw up, at last. “He’s done a pretty good job of that by himself.”

  Geoff stared at the clock behind the counter. The rumble of talk and the clink of coffee mugs continued through the bakery’s interior.

  This was unbelievable. She’d spent the past weekend worrying about Geoff and where he’d run off to. She’d planned on a bit of snooping this week to find him, and now he cropped up in her store with her ex-nemesis at his side?

  “She’s zoned out,” Amy said. “She’ll be with you shortly.”

  “What was that?’

  “I was saying,” Kate replied, and placed the nails of her thumb and ring finger together, then clicked them. “That I’m here to make good on my investment, and you’d better stay out of my way.”

  “What investment?” Heather asked.

  Geoff shifted but didn’t break eye contact with the clock. The bald man had lost weight since she’d last seen him. Whatever external pressure had forced that change couldn’t be healthy.

  “Delightful Donuts, of course,” Kate said and fluttered her eyelids. Mascara clung to her lashes, not a clump in sight.

  Kate Laverne had always been a perfectionist.

  “You backed Delightful Donuts?” Heather let go of the counter, then grabbed the edge of it again.

  Usually, she could handle this kind of shock. Today, it’d eaten at her serenity, like Amy on a box of Heather’s best donuts. Or Dave, for that matter.

  “I am Delightful Donuts,” Kate said and raised her arms. “At least I will be once I’ve sorted out the mess my little brother left for me.” She patted him on his bald pate.

  Geoff didn’t react to her touch, but it had to irk him.

/>   “Who’s the orc behind you?” Amy asked.

  Kate glanced back at the pudding bowl haircut guy and sighed. “Charles is my older brother. You’ll be seeing more of him too.”

  “Is that all you came here to say?” Heather asked.

  Kate planted her palms on the counter and leaned in. She narrowed her eyes, and the scent of too-sweet cinnamon wafted from her skin.

  “That’s quite a pungent perfume choice,” Amy said and waved a hand in front of her nose.

  Kate stared Heather dead in the eyes. “You’d better watch your donuts, Heather. There’s a new baker in town.”

  And with that, she turned and walked to the front of the store. She clicked her fingers at her brothers, and they rushed after her.

  “I’m out of witty retorts,” Amy said and looked over at her bestie. “That can’t be good.”

  Heather couldn’t form the words to reply.

  Chapter 2

  Heather sat at the kitchen table across from her husband and toyed with the pasta on the end of her fork. Lilly had opted to stay the night at Eva Schneider’s with Dave in tow.

  “What’s bothering you?” Ryan asked.

  “Nothing, why?” Heather dropped her fork on her plate and sighed. “All right, something big. Something I didn’t see coming from a mile away.”

  “What is it?” He slurped up a bit of bacon and chewed. “Another trash can thief at Donut Delights?”

  “No.” Heather took a sip of her water and steeled herself. “Geoff Lawless came to the store today.”

  Ryan choked on his bacon. “What? When?”

  “Yeah, he turned up this morning with a woman by the name of Kate Laverne,” Heather said. “She was an old, so-called friend of mine when I lived in New York.”

  Her husband grabbed his glass of water and glugged some back to clear his throat.

  “Apparently, she’s Geoff’s sister, and she owns Delightful Donuts and warned me to ‘watch my donuts because there’s a new baker in town.’ If you can believe that.”

  Ryan coughed and put down his glass. “That’s quite the one-liner.”

  “I know, right?” Heather picked up her fork and stabbed her tagliatelle. “It doesn’t feel right. Whatever she’s up to, it doesn’t sit well with me. Geoff didn’t say a word. He just stared into space.”

  “Weird,” Ryan muttered. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he gave Heather a sheepish grin. “I’d better take this.”

  “Go ahead,” she replied, and finally ate a bit of her dinner.

  Ryan whipped his phone out and answered. “Shepherd speaking.”

  Heather chewed and focused on Ryan’s expression.

  It darkened. “I see,” he replied. “All right. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Then he hung up.

  “A murder,” Heather said.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “At the Kenny household.”

  Heather put down her fork and picked up her napkin. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. Kenneth Kenny has been murdered. Hoskins is on the scene.” Ryan rose from his seat, then grabbed both their plates and walked over to the counter. “We’ve gotta go.”

  The Kenny’s again? Heather had investigated a case at their mansion over Halloween when Sarah Kenny had been murdered.

  She shuddered then scraped her chair back and stood straight as a candlestick.

  “I’m coming with you,” she said.

  Ryan placed the plates down with a clink. He turned to his wife. “Of course you are. Not only could this case be linked to the last one, but I’m going to need every bit of help I can get in this.”

  Heather and Ryan bustled out of their home and bundled into the car.

  Twenty minutes later, they pulled up the magnificent wrought iron gate in front of the Kenny’s gravel drive.

  Hoskins waved from the porch in the distance. Lights illuminated his bulky frame, and police cars parked on the grass, the gravel and everywhere else.

  Heather and Ryan got out of the car and walked up the drive. They swerved to avoid rookies and investigators, then stopped in front of the stairs.

  “Evening,” Hoskin’s said. His bottom lip writhed. No doubt, he itched to make some untoward comment about donuts for Heather’s benefit.

  “What can you tell me?” Ryan asked.

  Heather whipped her notepad and pen out of her handbag and scribbled ‘Kenneth Kenny’ at the top of the page.

  “Gunshot wound to the chest,” Hoskin’s said. “Clean in, clean out. Not a big caliber. Handgun. They’re sweeping for DNA and fingerprints now.” He whipped a candy bar out of his pocket and unwrapped it. He took a massive bite, then chewed, noisily.

  Heather scratched down the notes and ignored the annoying chomping from the officer. “What else?” She asked.

  Hoskins froze mid-chew and glared at her. He hated answering her questions. “We’ve got no signs of a struggle. The front door was unlocked, and we got a call from the neighbor who said they heard a gunshot.”

  Ryan sighed and squinted at the far hedge. “Quite a distance to have heard a gunshot.”

  “Yeah, it’s quiet out here this time of night,” Hoskin’s said, to the backdrop of cop chatter and radio squeals.

  Heather scratched her chin with the end of her pen and stared up at the mansion. “Has the body been, ugh, removed yet?”

  “Nope. They’re gonna take him out to do an autopsy in a bit,” Hoskins replied and rammed the last of his candy bar down his gullet.

  Heather grimaced and capped her pen. So, Kenneth Kenny had been shot in his own home. “And you didn’t see anyone leaving the scene? No footprints in the mud.”

  “Well, gee,” Hoskins said. “You’re welcome to take a wander around the flowerbeds with a flashlight, lady if you think you can do my job better than –”

  “Cool it,” Ryan said and clicked his ballpoint.

  Heather ignored Hoskins and turned on the spot. She studied the lawn and the front gate. “Was that open?” Heather asked, and pointed to the iron poles and spines.

  “Yeah, it was open.”

  “So, Kenny either entered his home in a rush or he let someone in. Someone he knew and trusted,” Heather said.

  Hoskins cleared his throat and crumpled up his candy bar wrapper. “We done here?”

  Heather tuned him out and stared at the gates. Who did Kenny know better than anyone else?

  His wife, who’d been murdered. His daughter, who’d murdered her.

  And Georgia Summers, his business partner, and oldest friend.

  Chapter 3

  “And I thought the Kenny mansion was impressive,” Amy said and whistled under her breath.

  They stood in front of the massive wooden front doors – double, of course – and Heather pressed the pearlescent button. A series of chimes rang out within the hall.

  “I didn’t expect this,” Heather said. “I mean, I know she’s rich, but this is just…”

  “Ostentatious,” Amy said, and nodded toward the golden sculpture in the front garden, beside the stepping stone path, which led to a bronzed fountain.

  The woman in the center of it looked suspiciously like Miss Summers herself.

  The huge door creaked open, and a man in a suit and tie peered out at them, down his long, hooked nose. “May I help you?” He asked, in a strong British accent.

  “Yes, we’ve come to see the Queen, darling,” Amy said and mimicked him. It came out garbled and with a bit of a twang. “Is she in? Only, we’ve got to discuss the price of tea down at the local farmer’s market.”

  Heather snorted and blocked it with her fist. She smiled at the butler. He didn’t smile back.

  “Tough crowd,” Amy muttered.

  “We’ve come to speak with Miss Summers. Is she in?”

  “One moment please,” the butler replied, then slapped the door shut in their faces.

  “I think he likes me.” Amy chuckled and readjusted her grip on her handbag.

  Heather rolled her eyes and flicked her bes
tie on the shoulder. She’d managed to joke and jibe her way to the top of many enemy lists in Hillside.

  Minutes passed, and footsteps clicked on the other side of the door. It opened once again, and the butler poked his nose out. “You may follow me,” he said, then turned on his heel and marched off down the hall.

  Heather and Amy shared a glance, then rushed after him, and down the marble-floored hall. His measured steps outpaced their frantic pace, with ease. He paused once in front of a magnificent white arch.

  “Miss Summers awaits you in the living area,” the man said, and spread his arm toward the arch.

  Heather led the way and walked past his disapproving glare. She stepped into… gosh, it wasn’t a living area, it was a ballroom with sofas and a waxed wood floor. A grand piano sat in one corner, beneath a massive glass window.

  Another fountain tinkled in the back garden.

  “There you are,” Georgia said and rose from her seat on a plum chaise lounge. Her cream-colored grown swished around her ankles in layers. She moved toward them and a long train dragged along the wood.

  “Your majesty,” Amy breathed and swept into a terrible attempt at a curtsy.

  “Oh you,” Georgia said, and patted Amy on the head. “You must be the funniest woman in Hillside.”

  “The most long-suffering would be a more appropriate title,” Amy said.

  Heather grasped Georgia’s free hand and shook it.

  “Have you come to talk investments?” Georgia asked, then gestured for them to take a seat on one of the sofas.

  Amy plonked down, and Heather settled for gripping the cushioned back of the seat.

  Georgia swept back to her chaise lounge and arranged herself on it. She took a sip from a fluted glass. “Oh, I’m so rude. Would you ladies like anything to drink?”

  “No, thank you,” Heather said. “And I haven’t come to talk investments, Miss Summers.”

  “Oh good, because I’m afraid that ship has sailed,” Georgia said, and flashed a glamorous smile.

  Everything about the woman oozed money. Or new money, perhaps.

  Heather didn’t stop to ponder the investment ship. “Have you spoken to Kenneth, lately?”

  “Kenneth?” Georgia asked, and rearranged herself.