Raspberry Coulis Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy - Book 38 (Donut Hole Cozy Mystery) Read online

  “Can you clarify that statement for me?” Heather asked, and met the witness’s gaze.

  “He has a past,” Charlie said. “That’s what I heard, anyway. Look, the Guidi’s have been good to me this past month. They hired me even though I don’t have any background in the service industry and –”

  “Charlie, I’m not here to perform a character assassination, just an investigation,” Heather said. The insinuation of a past interested her, though. She’d have to get more information on Guidi.

  Maybe he had a record.

  He swallowed. “Right. Anyway, Carla screamed at him about money. I only caught the tail end of the argument. I just spiked the order on the metal spike thingy in the kitchen and rushed out. I don’t like confrontation.”

  That made two of them.

  “And you didn’t see or hear anything else after that?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “I went in to get the drinks and that’s when I saw him. He was right beside the gas oven.” The man paled and bent to suck up more milkshake.

  “All right,” Heather said. “Take it easy.” She typed out the note about the fight. “Do you know if money was tight in the Guidi household?”

  “No. I can only make assumptions about that kinda thing. I mean, they just opened a restaurant and Guidi worked all the time. Even Carla worked here, managing the bar at night, you know? They might’ve been in financial trouble, but if they were, they didn’t tell me.”

  “But you did hear her shouting about money,” Heather said.

  “Yeah. She said something about paying him the money.”

  “Paying him?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know what that means,” Charlie said, and shrugged. “Are we almost done? I want to get out of here. Go take a shower.”

  “Sure. You’ll have to speak with Detective Hoskins before you leave, though,” Heather said, and stifled her internal critic. Hoskins wasn’t great at interviews.

  He wasn’t great at police work in general.

  Charlie shifted out of the booth.

  “One last question,” Heather said, fingers poised above the screen.

  “Okay.” The waiter dabbed his lips with the napkin, then coughed. “What is it?”

  “Have you noticed anything strange around here? Inside or outside the restaurant? People who come in regularly?” Sometimes, it was the smallest thing which motivated a killer. She’d learned that in her last case.

  “No, I don’t – oh wait,” Charlie said, and narrowed his eyes. They flicked back and forth in their sockets. “There was one man who was here. Some strange guy on opening day. He came in and asked a question about Guidi, then left right away. He didn’t order anything.”

  “What did he ask?”

  Charlie pouted. “Uh, gosh it was two weeks ago and the restaurant was super full on opening day. Um, ugh.” He wriggled his lips from side to side. “I’m so sorry, I can’t remember what he asked.”

  “That’s all right,” Heather replied. She reached into her bag, then took out one of her Donut Delights business cards. She handed it over. “If you think of anything call me, please.”

  “I will,” he said, and turned the white rectangle over in his hands. “Oh hey, Donut Delights. I love that place.”

  Heather’s smile was genuine, but her joy didn’t last long. She had a murder to solve. Now was the time for focus.

  Chapter 4

  Dave scratched beneath his collar and his tag tinkled. Cupcake meowed and strained on the end of her leash.

  “All right, you two, relax.” Heather slung the straps of her handbag over her shoulder. “It’s just around the corner, anyway.”

  The Guidis stayed in the same suburb as Heather. The revelation hadn’t made her sleep easier the night before, but it certainly filled her with the desire to get on the case.

  “And you’ve never met them?” Amy asked. “The Guidis?” She flicked Cupcake’s leash and the kitten set off.

  They all crunched down the front path to the sidewalk, then took a left. “No. You know I’m either in the donut store or –”

  “In the forest searching for bodies?”

  “Something like that,” Heather said. “I haven’t spoken to any of my neighbors in an age. Perhaps it’s time to remedy that.”

  Dave barked his agreement. The more friends Heather had, the more likely it was that he’d get under the table donuts when none looked.

  “Carla Guidi,” Amy said. “They must be new, right? I haven’t heard anything about them before this.”

  “Yeah, new in town. Apparently, they arrived a couple months ago. I’m not sure where from, though,” Heather replied. Already her sleuthin’ gene tickled and itched. Questions needed answering. “Down here.”

  They took another left and continued down the road, then took a right and crossed it. They halted in front of the Guidi residence – a low, sprawling home with pale brick front and a gabled roof.

  Amy whistled under her breath. Dave cocked his head in her direction.

  “Looks like that whole money trouble rumor was just that,” Ames said.

  “Don’t just a book by its cover,” Heather replied.

  “Or a home by its polished gloss door and aesthetic appeal?”

  Heather clicked her tongue and led the way up to the front door, heels clattering on the concrete slabs.

  She raised her fist and knocked on the wood.

  A child screamed inside the house. Another followed, shortly after. Hysterical giggles and the rush of feet toward the front of the house.

  “No! Stop it. Guido, go back to your room. Get off your brother.” Carla’s muffled voice hinged on panic.

  “I’ll let you handle this one,” Amy said, and took a step back.

  Dave and Cupcake both followed her lead.

  The latch scraped back, a chain rattled, and finally, Carla appeared, her eye pressed to the crack between the edge of the door and the jamb. “What do you want?” She asked.

  “Mrs. Guidi?”

  “I used to be,” she said. “My husband’s dead.”

  That was straightforward. “Yes, ma’am. We’ve come to talk to you about what happened.”

  A little girl poked her face through the gap below her mother and pulled a face. She stuck out her tongue, then laid eyes on Dave. She shrieked and clapped her hands.

  Dave backed away, tail between his legs.

  “Bella, no. Get back in the house.”

  The girl retreated, picking her nose.

  “Charming,” Amy muttered. She’d never been great with smaller kids.

  “What about my husband?” Carla asked, and her sharp, brown eyes scanned Heather from head to toe. Her black hair fell loosed around her shoulders, a mix of curls and frizz. “You a cop? I already gave a statement to the cops.”

  The very same statement Heather had received in her dossier that morning. “We’re not police officers, Mrs. Guidi. My name’s Heather Shepherd and –”

  “You’re that Private Eye woman. The one who’s unethical,” Carla said, and opened the door wider. She peered out past Heather as if she expected to find something else.

  Cameras and flashing lights, perhaps?

  “I’m a consultant for the Hillside Police Department. If you want to verify my abilities before you answer my questions, please feel free to give them a call.”

  “We’ll wait,” Amy added in.

  “No, it’s okay. I –” She glanced back over her shoulder. “This is not a good time. I’ll answer what I can, all right?”

  “Thank you,” Heather said. The kids had gone silent inside.

  Whenever Dave and Cupcake went quiet like that, trouble had brewed and spilled over.

  “Mrs. Guidi, is it true that you were in the restaurant on the morning of Mr. Guidi’s death?”

  “Yes. I went into the kitchen to talk to him and we got into a fight. Filippo was hard-headed. He didn’t like me interfering in the business, even though we set it up together.”

  “What was the
fight about?”

  “It was business related. Nothing serious,” Carla said, but her eyes shifted to the left.

  Heather made a mental note of the reaction. Charlie hadn’t mentioned a business argument. “And you and Mr. Guidi were happy?”

  “We have three kids and a business together. We’ve been married ten years,” Carla said.

  “Were you happy, though?” Amy asked, quietly.

  “No,” Carla replied. “We hardly spent any time together. We fought a lot. So, no, we weren’t happy, but I’d never hurt him.”

  Heather hadn’t accused the woman of anything. “There’s no need to defend yourself, Mrs. Guidi.”

  “I know that!” Carla inched the door closed. A wail rang out from the interior of her home and she sighed. “I wasn’t happy but I loved that idiot. And now, he’s gone and I have three children to deal with on my own. Do you have kids, Mrs. Shepherd?”

  “One,” Heather replied, and puffed out her chest.

  “Not counting these two,” Amy said, and nodded toward Cupcake and Dave.

  “Then you understand what a responsibility it is. I have to get back to my children and organize my husband’s memorial.” Carla swung the door toward them.

  Heather placed her palm against it. “Wait, Mrs. Guidi, please. Just one more question. Did you see anything strange outside the restaurant when you went to see your husband? Anyone hanging around?”

  Carla hesitated. She opened her mouth and shut it again. “No,” she said. She slammed the door in their faces, and the chain rattled behind it.

  Heather pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh boy.”

  “Didn’t seem all that upset, did she?” Amy asked.

  “No,” Heather replied. “But everyone deals with grief differently.” Unless, Carla didn’t have any grief to deal with.

  Chapter 5

  “Thank you for choosing Donut Delights,” Heather said, and handed over the pale pink box, stamped with the gold logo of her store.

  The customer, a young woman who wore hoop earrings and a smile, accepted it. “Thanks a bunch. I knew coming here was a good idea.” She hurried off and the next in line stepped up to Heather’s old timey brass register.

  “Eva,” Heather said, and grinned at the elderly woman.

  Eva Schneider placed her plum colored clutch on top of the glass counter. “Hello, dear. How are you feeling this morning?”

  “I’m fine,” Heather said. Apart from the lack of answers from Carla, of course, and the amount of time it took for the labs to process the crime scene and let Ryan know whether they’d found viable DNA.

  “Are you sure?” Eva asked. She glanced at the person behind her in the line, then leaned in and lowered her voice. “I read that special report in the newspaper by that Lemon man. Everyone’s talking about it.”

  Heather had forgotten about that in the rush of a new case. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’m not. It’s just a trash piece, Eva. I don’t think anyone takes the Hillside Reporter, seriously.”

  “You might be right about that, dear,” Eva replied, yet concern creased the paper thin skin on her forehead. “Just be careful, all right? I’ve heard rumors about where this fellow got his information.”

  Heather bent and got one of the Raspberry Coulis Donuts out from the tray. She lowered it onto a plate with her tongs, then punched a few buttons on the machine for Eva’s regular order. “What do you mean?”

  Eva pursed her lips. “Kate Laverne,” she said.

  “What?” A bucket of ice splashed down her spine. “What about her?”

  “Leila, you know, your grandmother’s friend, she told me that Bob heard from Natalie, that Jennifer saw Kate Laverne and Kelly Lemon talking in her cupcake store. Apparently, she’s the one who gave him the scoop,” Eva said.

  Heather sighed and placed the cup of bitter coffee on the saucer. “Don’t worry about it, Eva. I promise, I’m fine.” Even if Kate was up to her old tricks. “But please don’t tell Amy about this. I know she’ll freak out if she gets wind of it.”

  “Of course,” Eva said. She paid for her order, then took the proffered plate and cup, her clutch, and hurried off to her favorite spot in the sun.

  The next customer stepped up, bearing a wallet and a grin.

  “Ange?” Heather signaled to her assistant.

  Angelica hurried over to serve the customer and Heather backed off toward her office.

  This was new information to process. Kate had interfered again. Geoff had tried to warn her ages ago. He’d told her that his crazy sister would get her revenge and Heather hadn’t listened.

  She didn’t doubt Kate had the potential to get in the way. She’d witnessed that first hand in New York, all those years ago, but a part of her had wanted to believe that Kate’s threats were empty.

  That perhaps the silly woman had grown out of childish tactics and anger.

  Heather opened her office door and –

  “Mrs. Shepherd! Wait, Mrs. Shepherd!” A breathless voice called from across the bakery, over the hiss of the milk frothing nozzle.

  Heather turned back and frowned.

  Waiter Charlie rushed toward her, his cellphone aloft. “Mrs. Shepherd.”

  “Yes?”

  “Oh, thank goodness you’re here,” he said, and sucked in deep breaths. “I was so worried I wouldn’t find you.”

  “Why on earth would you worry about that?” Heather asked.

  “The paper said you’re never in your store. You know, that you’re always out investigating,” Charlie said.

  Heather clenched her fists. Darn Laverne and her lies. Gosh, she had to remain calm.

  She took two breaths. “How may I help you, Charlie?”

  “I found something you need to take a look at,” he said.

  Heather walked into her office and beckoned for him to follow. Charlie entered, gripping the phone to his chest, gaze flicking from corner to corner to ceiling.

  “Whoa, this is a nice office. Cozy.”

  “Thanks,” Heather said, and shut the door. “What did you find?”

  “Okay, so I went home after we spoke and I thought a lot about that strange guy that I saw during the opening, and all the questions he asked.” Charlie said, and gulped air. Clearly, he’d rushed over. A sheen of sweat clung to the strands of blonde hair which drooped over his forehead. “And I couldn’t remember, but I did recall that Carla asked me to take a few pictures to upload to the new Facebook page.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, she didn’t have a social media manager or whatever it’s called so I did it,” Charlie replied. “And I just logged on to my Facebook and checked out the page and yeah, all the photos are there. And he’s in one of them.” He gave her his phone.

  Heather’s heart skipped a beat. She took the phone and gazed at the image.

  “That’s him.” He pinched the screen and spread his fingers, and the phone zoomed in on a surly looking fellow beside the bar. Dark hair, pale and skinny as a spider. “I thought maybe you could track him down. Or ask the cops.”

  “Thank you, Charlie. This is really helpful,” Heather said. “Do you mind if I take a screenshot of this and the page and forward it to my husband?”

  Charlie frowned. “Your husband?”

  “Yes, he’s Detective Shepherd. You would’ve met him at the crime scene?”

  “Oh right, of course. Sure, go ahead.”

  Heather made short work of it and forwarded the picture to her tablet, as well. They had a face for their stalker.

  In a way, this reminded her of another case, except this time, the lurker didn’t have a Mohawk. And for some reason, this guy looked familiar. She couldn’t place him, but she’d seen him somewhere before.

  Heather finished up and gave Charlie his phone back. “Thanks so much for bringing this to my attention. I really appreciate it.”

  “Anything I can do to help,” Charlie said, and stepped back to the door. “I admit, I also came for the donuts.”


  Chapter 6

  Heather paced down the back alley between the restaurant Bella Vita and the boutique fashion store beside it. “The back door into the kitchen was the only possible entrance and exit for the killer,” Heather said.

  Amy hurried along beside her, but she halted every few steps and looked back over her shoulder. “Kind of creepy. You know, being here. The killer probably used this alley to escape and then moments later, Charlie found Chef Guidi and –”

  “And that’s exactly why we’re here,” Heather said, and halted behind the locked back door. “Ryan told me he’s got a warrant to search Guidi’s home office this afternoon. I’d love to meet him there with some news. A clue, a lead, anything that might explain why the killer chose a chef and father as the target.”

  Amy shuddered and rubbed her puffy blue coat sleeves. “Gosh. I know we do this a lot, but sometimes it just hits home. Someone actually killed that man.”

  “I know,” Heather said, but kept her voice even. “But you know what, Ames, the minute we let the emotional side get to us, we lose a grip on the evidence. That stuff is all rooted in cold, hard fact. Let’s try to focus on that.”

  “Yeah, that does make it easier,” Amy said, but she didn’t stop rubbing her arms.

  Heather focused on the concrete step which led to the back door, and the paving around it. “Any trace evidence would’ve been destroyed by the weather, most likely, but I know they pulled fingerprints off the door. We’re just waiting on results.”

  A single window sat high up on the wall beside the door, but the panes were intact and it was too small to allow the killer entry.

  “Why did he leave the back door unlocked?” Amy asked.

  “Presumably, because Carla came in to talk to him. She most likely left in a rush after their argument –”

  “Assuming she didn’t stab him.”

  “Right,” Heather said. “What intrigues me is that Chef Guidi had the argument with Carla while Charlie was in there.”

  “Okay?”