Candied Maple Bacon Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 13 (Donut Hole Mystery) Read online

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  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 stroked her palms across the surface of the glass countertop, smiling at the newest addition to the Donut Delights repertoire. The Candied Maple Bacon Donut was a combination of crunchy, salty and deliciously sweet.

  The donut base, deep-fried of course, had basic maple glaze. The circles glistened beneath the new down lights in the counter.

  “They do look lovely, dear,” Eva Schneider said, placing her purse on the counter beside the cash register. “In fact, I think I’ll take an entire box. The staff at Hillside Regional will love these.”

  “You’re still visiting them?” Heather asked, and bent to get a cardboard box from beneath the table. “These are on the house then.”

  “One of these days you’re going to have to let me pay for my donuts, Heather. You’re losing money because of me,” Eva replied, wringing her wrinkled hands, and then reaching up to fluff her newly plum-colored hairdo.

  Heather boxed up the donuts, tummy grumbling at the sight of them, and then handed them over to her best customer and a good friend. “Tell you a secret,” Heather said, leaning in, “We’re doing better than ever thanks to the new website. We’re starting to get orders from across the country.”

  “That’s fantastic!” Eva said, grasping the box of donuts. “You’ll need to expand.”

  “You might be right about that. I don’t think we’ll be able to keep up with online orders and the customers in the store.”

  Heather glanced around at the crowds of donut devourers and coffee guzzlers. They were seated at the tables, some of them slurping on milkshakes, though it was barely past 9 am.

  “Maybe that new donut store will take some of your customers,” Eva said, then wrinkled her nose. “Though, their donuts can’t be as good as yours.”

  Heather nodded, absently, and then hummed a tune under her breath. A habit she’d picked up recently. Whenever she felt a little stressed about business or anything else, she’d hum a song.

  The most recent addition to her repertoire was Gold Dust Woman by Fleetwood Mac.

  “I love that song,” Eva said. “What is that?”

  Heather opened her mouth to answer, but her cell tinkled to life. “Just a sec, Eva,” she said, then dug it out from the cupboard beneath the register. She lifted it and squinted at the screen.

  Unknown number, who could that be?

  Anxiety tumbled through her belly, turning over and over. She sucked in a breath, then swiped her finger across the screen.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello?” A woman asked, voice squeaking on the ‘o.'

  “Yes, hello, you called me. Who is this?” Heather asked, then beckoned for Maricela to man the register. Her assistant grinned and hurried over, her long dark hair bobbing in its ponytail.

  “Heather? That you, Heather?” The woman asked, words popping out between deep gasps for breath. “I need your help. I’m on my way.”

  Heather frowned and pulled the phone from her ear, checked the caller ID again. She blinked at Eva. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered, covering the phone with her palm.

  She turned and hurried to her office, pressing the cell to her ear again.

  “Are you there? Heather, please be there, girl. I really, like, need your help.” The woman grunted, more panting. The scrape of shoes on concrete.

  Heather shut her office door and stood in the center of the room. “Who is this?”

  “Honey… Trickle…”

  “Honey?” She hadn’t seen the dancer for months. Not since Kent had been attacked and she’d tasked herself with finding the perpetrator. “What do you need?”

  Heather probably wouldn’t have anything for Honey, unless it were a donut that’d sent the dancer running through the streets.

  “Help me. He’s coming.” The connection cut out for a second, replaced by the crackle of static – or was it fabric against the microphone?

  “Hello? Honey, can you hear me? Talk to me, Honey. I’m right here.” Heather hummed a bar, then stopped and shook her head. Now wasn’t the time.

  “He’s coming to get me. Where are you?” Honey hissed into the phone. “I’m so scared. I need you to find me.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I can’t talk,” Honey whispered, voice dropping lower and lower. “He’s too close.”

  “Honey, can you get to the donut shop? I’m at Donut Delights. You know where it is right?”

  “Yeah,” she said and whimpered. “I’ll try.”

  “Where are you, now?” Heather asked.

  The line went dead. The shrill beep, beep of the dial tone sent shivers up and down Heather’s spine. The sunny surrounds, the trees, their leaves waving from across the road, were unconcerned.

  Hillside didn’t know that something terrible was about to happen.

  Heather dialed Ryan’s number.

  “Hey, babe,” he said, “now’s not a great time. Davidson is jumping on me about the Kramer case and I can’t –”

  “Honey Trickle is in danger. She just called me on my cell and told me she’s being chased by a man. That he’s close and asked for my help. I told her to make her way to Donut Delights.”

  “Where is she?” Ryan asked.

  “I asked, but the line went dead before she answered. Oh gosh, should I have told her to stay where she was? It sounded like she’d have to run. I mean, he was closing in.” Panic curled through Heather’s chest.

  Stress had compounded in the past weeks. The new donut orders, Geoff Lawless’ store, studying to get her diploma so she could be a proper P.I., all of it had set her nerves chattering.

  “Just relax, babe. I’m going out now. I’ll find her.”

  “Should I call 911?”

  “No, there’s not much they’ll be able to do without an address. I’ll handle this myself. You stay where you are. Eat a donut for the sugar. Just relax, love, I’ll handle it,” Ryan said, then hung up.

  Heather exhaled slowly, puffing out her cheeks. Well, if anyone could help Honey it was her gorgeous husband. He’d find her and protect her, and then Heather could get back to her day.

  Business as usual.

  Chapter 2

  Heather sat at Eva’s favorite table, the cardboard box of donuts pressed against the wall, and two cups of strong coffee on the wrought iron table between them.

  “How about a donut, dear? You need the sweetness to calm your nerves,” Eva said.

  “No, no. I don’t want a donut. I don’t think I’d be able to force it down, right now,” Heather replied.

  As much as she loved donuts, especially her donuts, she couldn’t push the image of Honey in danger aside. The woman had sounded terrified, positively breathless with fear.

  “I hope she’s okay,” Heather said.

  Eva reached across the table and patted her on the forearm. “I’m sure she’s fin
e. After all, you called Ryan, and he’s the best police officer in Hillside. You can trust him to get to her on time.”

  “I know. It was just such a creepy phone call,” Heather said and glanced around the room.

  She didn’t want to freak out her staff or her customers. They chatted amicably, and Maricela and Jung joked around behind the counter, ringing up orders and making lattes.

  “You need to relax, Heather,” Eva said. “Trust me. I know all about stressful situations. You’re going to make it through this time. Stress is a challenge.”

  “You can say that again,” she replied, and picked up her cup. She sipped coffee from it and swallowed. Warmth spread through her chest and into her stomach, but it did nothing to soothe her.

  “That’s not what I mean, dear,” Eva replied, a soft smile deepening the wrinkles beside her eyes and lips.

  “Then what do you mean?”

  “Challenges are presented to us. They’re there to be conquered. Every time you face a challenge you learn something, and there’s nothing more valuable than knowledge,” Eva replied. She tapped the side of her nose with a gnarled finger.

  The door to Donut Delights crashed open, the bell tinkled overhead, frantic for attention.

  Heather turned in her chair, heart thumping in her throat.

  Kent stood in the doorway, fist pressed against the glass of the door, holding it open. Gusts of wind entered the store, warm from the summer heat, and several tables of customers looked around for the source.

  “Kent?” Heather asked, rising from her chair, but bracing herself on it at the same time. The cool iron steadied her.

  His gaze flicked around the interior, landing on the tables, the glass counter and finally on Heather. “Where’s Amy?” He grated.

  “I – at work?” Heather bit the inside of his cheek to stop herself from humming. Ludicrous. The recent stress had reduced her into a singing moron. She had to have more backbone than this.

  She’d faced off against people with guns for heaven’s sake.

  “I need to speak with her. She’s not there. She’s not at home. I have to,” Kent cut off and stepped in Heather’s direction. The door slammed shut behind him.

  Oh boy, whatever had happened had to be serious. As if she needed more drama in her life.

  Eva and Heather shared a quizzical look.

  “Are you okay, Kent? You look kinda…”

  “Clammy,” Eva said, helpfully.

  “Right, clammy,” Heather replied, and a giggle bubbled behind her lips. She managed to keep it at bay through sheer force of will.

  Kent didn’t stop staring at Heather. She moved left, away from the table, and his eyes flicked to follow her. “Where is she? I have to talk to her.”

  “I’ve already told you, Kent. She’s not here.” Heather hadn’t seen Kent since he’d gone to the hospital. This wasn’t a great first impression.

  “What about Ryan?”

  “Okay, this is getting weird,” Heather said. “Let’s step outside and you can tell me what’s going on.” She strode towards the door, brushing past Amy’s boyfriend – if that was what he truly was – then pushed out into the warmth of the morning.

  Kent followed her a moment later, hands clasped together in front of his abdomen.

  “What’s the problem?” Heather asked, folding her arms. She tapped her heel on the sidewalk and arched an eyebrow. Interrupting the atmosphere of Donut Delights was a sure fire way to get her upset.

  “Honey,” he said.

  All irritation disappeared. “What about her?”

  “She’s dead,” Kent said, and a vein in his jaw twitched as he said it.

  “What are you talking about?” But Heather already knew. Whoever Honey had been afraid of had gotten to her. This was a disaster. Sure, she hadn’t known Honey that well, but she hadn’t been a bad person.

  Heck, she’d even come on a little adventure with Heather.

  “She called me. Said she was running from someone. And that she was trying to get to you.”

  “Why me?”

  “She didn’t say. Just that you were important and that you’d understand,” Kent replied, tone shaking with emotion. The professional, collected lawyer was gone. This Kent trembled in his Armani shoes.

  “How do you know she’s, ugh, you know,” Heather said, lowering her tone until it was barely audible.

  “I found her body,” he said and pressed a fist to his lips. “She was shot. The police are everywhere.”

  “Oh no,” Heather said, then put up a palm to forestall any more details. “I think I’d better call my husband.”

  “No,” Kent replied. “No, you don’t need to.”

  “What, why not?”

  “Just go home, Heather,” Kent replied, dropping his fist to his side.

  “Why?” She asked, but a sinking in her gut told her before he said the words. Honey had been trying to find her. Where would she go first? The only logical option left a sour taste in the back of Heather’s throat.

  “Because that’s where she is. She was shot on your front porch,” Kent replied, unblinking. Sweat ran down his forehead and his temples. He was white as flour from head to toe.

  “Kent, I think you should go home and take it easy. Pick up a donut from the counter first. The sugar will do you good,” Heather said.

  She buried her anxiety and gritted her teeth, then strode toward her car. She didn’t have time to be stressed about work anymore. This was personal. Honey Trick was dead in front of her house, and a murderer was on the loose.

  She opened her car door, jangling her keys. “Here we go again,” she said.

  Chapter 3

  Heather sat at the desk in her study, running her thumb down the side of her book. The course materials for her diploma had suggested it as light reading to compliment the other textbooks, and she’d taken it up to get extra insight.

  Dave nudged her chair with his cute, furry butt and scratched beneath his collar.

  “I can’t focus, Dave,” Heather said, scratching her temple with a pen. She looked down at her doggy dearest and huffed a sigh. “If only you could talk. I bet you saw exactly who hurt Honey.”

  Dave glanced up at her and whined. He wagged his tail in great sweeping circles, then licked his lips. No doubt the word ‘honey’ and conjured up images of donuts.

  Heather scratched between his ears, then leaned back in her chair. She’d placed the laptop further back on her desk, to get it out of the way of her book, and she stared at the screen, tapping her thumb against her chin.

  “Maybe I could check it out. I bet Honey had a Facebook page,” Heather murmured. She didn’t bother asking Dave for his advice.

  She shut her book on Forensic Techniques in The Field and placed it on top of the bookshelf beside her desk. Then she dragged the laptop towards herself, fingers itching across the keyboard already.

  Heather’s smartphone buzzed to life in her pocket, and she flinched.

  Dave glanced up at her, black nose sniffling from side-to-side. This look said, “Why are you so jumpy, lately? It’s just an annoying ring tone.”

  “Because I’ve got a lot of stress, hmm-kay?” Heather said, and Dave sniffled again.

  She dug the phone out of her pocket, then smiled at the name flashing on the screen.

  “Hey Ames,” she said, “Boy, am I glad to hear from you.”

  “Yeah, it’s all over town,” Amy replied, lightly. A little too lightly. She’d never been comfortable with Kent and Honey’s relationship. Not that it’d been an actual relationship. Kent had helped Honey win a lawsuit, and that was it.

  “I feel terrible,” Heather said, then sighed. “Honey called me before it happened. She said a man was after her.”

  “Ugh, that must’ve freaked you out. I would’ve gotten the icky vibes if that’d happened to me.”

  “Oh, I got the icky vibes, all right. I even asked Ryan to find her, but he didn’t manage it in time. Now, they’re all outside, processing the cri
me scene.” Heather rose from her chair and walked to the window. “An entire mess of officers.”

  “A mess?”

  “Well, yeah, that’s the collective noun for officers. I Googled it,” Heather replied. “A mess of officers.” She peered down at the flashing lights and cordoned off a section of the house.

  Ryan was down there, talking to another Detective – that Davidson guy – and taking notes. A couple of officers took photographs of the scene, which she couldn’t see, thankfully.

  They’d allowed her to stay in the house, because, as far as they could tell, nothing had happened inside. As long as she entered and exited through the back, it was fine.

  “A mess, huh, that’s pretty appropriate,” Amy replied. “I’m sorry this has happened. Kent called me in a total state. I had to go over to his place to help him calm down. Apparently, he saw her body.”

  “Yeah, that’s what he told me,” Heather said, then dragged her teeth across her bottom lip. “He tried to get hold of you this afternoon, but you were nowhere to be found.”

  “What are you saying, Heather Shepherd?” Amy asked, hard as rock and nails.

  “Huh?”

  “I had nothing to do with Honey Trickle’s death. If you think for a second that I would ever hurt her, then you’ve –”

  “Whoa, whoa, slow down. Not at all what I was saying,” Heather replied. “But that’s good to know. I’m not even sure I should investigate this one. It’s close to home.”

  “Excuse the pun,” Amy said. “Gosh, I’m sorry, that was insensitive.”

  “It’s okay. How many murders and investigations is this now? We’re probably desensitized to it. Then again, investigating them kinda helps me deal with the pain of losing people I truly liked.” Heather walked back to her desk and made a steeple with her fingers. She balanced them on the wood, then popped a hip. “Ames, I’d better get some sleep. Are you still coming into the store for lunch?”

  “Oh, you bet I am. There are at least two of those bacon donuts that have my name on them,” Amy replied. “Listen, try not to get hung up on this, Heather. You’ll figure it out. Or Ryan will. It’s going to be okay.”