Lavender Grape Dust Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 32 Read online

  “You heard about the death of Thaddeus Turlington,” Heather replied.

  “That old idiot.” Leila shut the lid of the donut box. “Yes, I heard. He wasn’t well-liked around here.”

  “He wasn’t? I would’ve thought a movie star would’ve gone down well in Hillside Manor,” Heather said. “Something to talk about.”

  “It would have if he’d been a little humble or a little nice for that matter. He was a bitter, horrid character. Like something out of – well, actually. He was Dorian Gray made flesh.” Leila tapped the cover of the book, which she’d slipped to the side of the donut box. “Vain, selfish, and horrible to anyone who got in his path. Quite literally. He screamed at one of the aides for standing in his way.”

  “Goodness,” Heather said.

  “Goodness indeed. Is that what you came to speak about?”

  “Kind of,” Heather replied, and wiggled her head from left to right. “I’m having trouble getting hold of Vera Bain. The receptionist won’t give me her phone number or address since it’s against policy.” The fact that Heather was a consultant for Hillside PD had weighed as much as a feather on the receptionist’s scale.

  “Vera, hmm? Well, she certainly had a reason to get rid of that old codger.”

  “Why do you say that?” Heather asked.

  Leila bit her bottom lip. She leaned in closer and beckoned for Heather to do the same. “He tortured her.”

  “What?”

  “Not physically, but mentally. He gave her a run for her money. Always landed her in trouble with the management staff. Boy, there wasn’t a day that went by without Vera Bain in a state,” Leila said. She sat back and sighed, her fingers tapping on the lid of her box, atop the Donut Delights logo.

  “Do you know where she lives?” Heather asked.

  “Oh no, no, not a clue. Not a clue. But she’ll be back. She’s been off sick for a while, but she’ll probably rush back to work when she finds out that old shabby Thaddy is gone.”

  Heather picked up her tote and bundled it into her lap. She brought out her Lenovo tablet and unlocked the screen. “Is there anything else you can tell me about the mysterious Miss Bain?”

  “She’s quiet,” Leila replied, and nodded with the words. “Quiet and unassuming. I’ve never been in her care, but I’ve seen her wheeling a couple of the others around. I heard she worked in an asylum over in Arkansas, but I can’t be sure about that. You know how the rumors are in a place like this.”

  “I can imagine,” Heather replied. She tapped the information onto the screen. “Anything else?”

  “I don’t think so,” Leila whispered, and narrowed her eyes, caught in a memory. “No, that’s it. That’s all I know about her. I could go on about the other aides at length, but I don’t think that would help.”

  “Thanks, Leila,” Heather said. She locked the screen and deposited the tablet into her handbag, then placed it on the floor again. “So, what’s new with you?”

  “Oh good, you’re not leaving yet,” Leila said. “Would you like a donut?” She popped open the lid and directed it toward the baker.

  “Do you even have to ask?” Heather laughed.

  Chapter 4

  “Movie stars,” Amy said, and clasped her hands to her chest. “Actual movie stars in Hillside. And I didn’t even know about it.”

  “I didn’t take you for the kind of person who cared about movie stars,” Heather replied, and shifted at Eva’s table in Donut Delights.

  Just because she had the week off, didn’t mean she’d stay away from her favorite place in the entire world, let alone her friends.

  “I don’t,” Amy said, and drew herself up straight in the wrought iron chair. “Okay, I do. I mean, come one, it’s the terrible twins. The Turlington Two. You have to be overawed by that.”

  “To risk a Lilly phrase: meh, it’s no biggie.” Heather shrugged her shoulders, and readjusted her grip on the

  Jung halted beside the table and swished the coffee pot from side-to-side. “Can I interest you ladies in a refill?”

  “No, thank you, dear,” Eva said, and placed her palm on top of her cup.

  “I’ll take some.” Amy handed Jung her mug. “Come on, Heather. You’ve got to be a bit intrigued by them.”

  “By who?” Jung asked, and handed back the mug, now full to the brim with the special Donut Delights brew.

  “The Turlingtons,” Ames said, and squished around in her seat. “You know, the Turlingtons. The actors?”

  “What about them?” Jung ruffled his dark hair and it stuck up at the top.

  “They’re in Hillside,” Amy whispered, and pressed the side of her hand to her mouth to provide added secrecy. “And they might be murder suspects. The old man just died in Hillside Manor.”

  “Hey, wait a second, are you talking about Thaddeus Turlington?” Jung frowned and glanced around the store.

  None of the customers waved for coffee, but then the morning rush had already passed and afternoon, albeit a chilly one, had settled on the streets of Hillside.

  “That’s the one,” Heather said and took a bite of her donut. The dust fluffed into her mouth, and she couldn’t help smiling at the strange sensation.

  “Thaddeus Turlington,” Jung said, and wrinkled his nose. “Wait, hmm. Thaddeus. I saw that somewhere. Wait here.” He turned and hurried toward the kitchen, the scent of coffee drifting in his wake.

  “Glad to know I’m not the only weirdo around here,” Amy said, and slurped some of her coffee.

  “Yes, but you are the Queen of them, dear,” Eva replied, and patted her on the arm.

  All three of them burst into laughter. It was difficult to lose the holiday spirit, especially during a hard-earned vacation.

  “Now we know where Amy learned her quick wit,” Heather said.

  Ames readjusted her puffy jacket – a blue one, which Heather had bought her for Christmas – and focused on her donuts instead of the jibes.

  Jung bashed out of the kitchen, Donut Delights apron askew and a newspaper clutched in his hand. He hurried to their table then skidded to a halt in front of it.

  “Goodness. Hot off the presses,” Eva said and stared at the paper in Jung’s hands.

  “You said they might be suspects?” Jung asked. He foisted the newspaper on Heather without waiting for an answer. “Then you’d better take a look at that.”

  “What is it?” Amy asked, and scooched her chair closer. The legs scraped across the golden boards but didn’t leave a scratch. “An article.”

  “Yeah, apparently, the Turlington Twins are in a legal dispute over the will,” Jung said.

  “When was this published?” Heather asked, and flicked the paper over.

  “Late this afternoon,” Jung replied. “They called it the emergency celeb edition. I think it’s because we’ve got the two of them in Hillside. Now, it’s a big deal.”

  “Because that’s what I need while investigating a case,” Heather muttered. “More press.”

  “They're in dispute over the will, already?” Amy asked. “Bullets have left guns slower than that. Ooh, that was bad phrasing, sorry.”

  Eva waved away the words and took a sip of her coffee instead.

  “Yeah, apparently, the siblings don’t get along as well as everyone thinks,” Jung said. “They’re not a dream team. They’re sworn enemies. That’s what the Hillside Reporter is making it out to be, anyway.”

  Heather scanned the page and picked out relevant words and phrases. All the late nights spent reading mystery novels, and epic fantasy books helped.

  “They’re staying at thy Hillside by the Wayside Motel,” Heather said. “Interesting.” The last time she’d visited the motel, Amy had been scratched to pieces by Cupcake and Heather hadn’t had a spare moment to appreciate the retro décor.

  “Are you going over there?” Amy asked and dug her fingers into Heather’s arm. “Because if you’re going over there, you’re taking me with you. Do you hear me, Shepherd?” She jabbed Heather in th
e arm. “I’ve helped you interview some of the creepiest people in this town. You owe me.”

  “All right, all right. But after this, I don’t want to hear any complaints about that graveyard,” Heather replied.

  Amy shuddered and released her bestie immediately.

  “I’ve got to check out a few thing with Ryan first,” Heather said, “but after that, we’ll go to speak with the terrible two.”

  Amy grunted her approval.

  “Jung, would you get Lilly out of the kitchen, please?” Heather asked. “We’ve got to get home and make dinner. She promised to help with the lasagna.”

  “Sure,” Jung said and hurried off in the direction of the silver double doors.

  Lilly’s winter break had been filled with nothing but baking, Dave, Cupcake, and dinosaurs. She’d made the most out of it so far.

  “I hope they didn’t feed her too many donuts,” Heather said.

  “What is this concept you speak of?” Amy asked. “Since when is there such a thing as too many donuts?”

  Lils flew out of the kitchen, and the double doors swung open and closed behind her, rebuffing Jung from following her out. His laughter slipped out of the kitchen.

  “Mom,” she said. “Mom, look what I made.” She shoved a plate into Heather’s hands and grinned from ear to ear.

  A single Lavender Grape Dust Donut dominated the porcelain white background.

  “I made it all by myself,” Lils said and thumbed her chest. “What do you think of that?”

  “I think,” Heather said, “I can’t wait to get home and eat it.” She winked at Amy.

  Lilly’s face fell. “But –”

  “I know it’s for Dave, Lils.” Heather chuckled and planted a kiss on her daughter’s forehead. “I won’t eat it, I promise. But you’d better hide it from your father.”

  Chapter 5

  Heather curled her legs underneath herself and took a sip of her hot chocolate. The sofa in the living room had surely never been this comfortable before. Gosh, she could fall asleep right here.

  After the hot chocolate, of course.

  “She’s asleep,” Ryan said. He strode past the Christmas tree, its lights twinkled and cast reflections in the silver baubles which dripped from its branches, and sat down beside her.

  He removed a brown folder from underneath his arm and placed it on his lap.

  Heather eyed it but didn’t ask questions. He’d tell all when he was ready.

  Ryan exhaled, then leaned forward and grabbed his mug of hot chocolate. He slurped a sip and gave a grunt of appreciation.

  “Long day?” Heather asked.

  “Like you wouldn’t believe.” He hoisted one foot up and rested it on the opposite knee. “But I’ve got your dossier ready to go.” He lifted it and handed it over.

  Heather accepted the brown folder and pressed her fingers to the sharp card at its corner. “Anything knew?”

  “Yeah, quite a bit, actually. Some stuff you’ll find interesting, for sure.”

  “Such as?” Heather asked.

  “You heard the twins are fighting over their father’s will,” Ryan said and put down his mug. They’d discussed that before dinner, with Lilly upstairs cleaning her room.

  “Yeah, I’m going to check that out tomorrow,” Heather said.

  “I think you might want to check out this first,” Ryan replied, and tapped the top of the folder.

  Heather handed him her mug, then flipped open the folder. The name ‘Herman Schulz’ sprang out at her, typed in bold font across the top of the page.

  “A lawyer?” Heather asked, and glanced at her husband.

  He ran his hand through his hair, then nodded once. “The lawyer who did Thaddeus Turlington’s will. Turns out, ol’ Thad had a lot of money and a lot of land, and whoever inherits it won’t have to worry about the future for, oh let’s say, forever.”

  “So, that’s why they’re arguing,” Heather said, and scanned the page. “Oh, his office is downtown, near the Bank of America building.” That kind of real estate didn’t come cheap. This guy had to be Hillside’s answer to every legal question the rich and the famous had.

  “Uh-huh,” Ryan said. “He deals mainly in stuff like this, and also, divorces.”

  Heather shuddered. “Death and divorce. Hardly two things I’d choose in that realm. Not that I can talk, what with the investigating and all.”

  “I don’t have much on this guy, other than a hint and an allegation that their might’ve been bad blood between him and Thad,” Ryan said. “Apparently, one of the aides at Hillside Manor overheard an argument between the two of them in the past week. I’m betting it’s got to do with the will.”

  “Goodness,” Heather whispered. She closed the folder on that page and gazed into her husband’s eyes. “So much fuss over the will. But why now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why right before his murder was there such a big fuss? It can’t be a coincidence,” Heather said.

  “That’s exactly why we need to talk to this Herman guy,” Ryan said, and patted the top of the dossier. He handed her the hot chocolate.

  Heather sipped it and let the smooth, chocolatey goodness sweep her doubts away. An itch niggled at the back of her mind. A thought that wouldn’t quite materialize.

  “Have you heard anything about Vera Bain?” She asked.

  “Nothing. I haven’t had a chance to head over to her place,” Ryan said.

  “Wait, what? You know where she lives?” Heather asked.

  “Yeah, the receptionist at Hillside Manor gave me her address.”

  Heather chuckled and shook her head. “She wouldn’t give it to me. Go figure.”

  “Forget about it,” Ryan said and winked at her. “It’s in the dossier.”

  “At least we have a lot of leads on this one.” Heather smoothed her palm across the folder and patted it once. “But a lot of leads means a lot of work. Not that I’m adverse to that.”

  “Of course not,” Ryan replied, but his brow wrinkled. The lines from years of hard work and stress announced themselves and deepened. “But, this is supposed to be your week off and –”

  “Don’t you start with me, Shepherd,” Heather said. She lifted the file and bopped him on the top of the head. “I want to work the case, and you guys need me on this, anyway.”

  “The Cap is in a state,” Ryan said. “I don’t think I told you. He’s been over the moon ever since you solved the last case.”

  “We got there late,” Heather replied. “I’d hardly say we solved it. The FBI did the legwork.”

  “Oh please, without your find in the garden, they’d never have made the arrest,” Ryan said. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “Your meddling did the trick, yet again.”

  “Meddling!” Heather gasped. “If I didn’t have a cup of hot chocolate right now, I’d just, why I’d –”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Ryan’s chuckles bubbled up from the core of his being.

  Heather joined in. She rested her head on her husband’s shoulder and gazed at the brown folder on her lap.

  “What do you mean he’s in a state?” Heather asked.

  “He’s over the moon. Impressed about how well you did on that case. Like I said, we’re talking a permanent consultation position. And better pay, too.”

  “I won’t say no to that. Though, I’ve never really been in it for the money.”

  “I know,” Ryan said. He rested the side of his head against the top of hers and the contact lulled them both into a comfortable silence.

  Thoughts streamed through her mind, and they wouldn’t stop until she’d solved the case.

  Chapter 6

  Herman Schulz’s office smelled like old leather and a hundred cigarettes worth of tobacco. The man himself sat behind a massive walnut desk, elevated in a high-backed chair which peered over the top of his head.

  He had to be the shortest man Heather had seen in Hillside.

  Amy shifted in her seat and fiddled with
the hems of her sleeves.

  “One moment please,” Mr. Schulz said, in a thick German accent. He dragged on the end of a thin, white cigarette, with his other hand pressed a cell phone to his ear. “No, not you, Dukakis. I’m speaking to someone in my office.”

  Amy pursed her lips at the smoke.

  Heather glanced at the closed window, wistfully.

  The spacious office looked out on the street below. Cars raced by, trees peeked out of the sidewalk, and pedestrians strode past them, heads bowed and gazes on their cell phone screens.

  Heather didn’t think of Hillside as an industrial or economic mecca, but the town had grown a lot in the past few years. In fact, it’d become a miniature city.

  Hopefully, it didn’t grow too much.

  “Yes, Dukakis, yes. We talk about this tomorrow. No, she can’t take the yacht. No. All right. I see you then. Auf wiedersehen.” Herman drew the phone from his ear and poked the screen with his thumb.

  He leaned forward and tapped the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray, then sighed. “My apologies for that interruption, ladies,” he said. “I have this client in the middle of a messy, messy divorce. Heaven knows why he wants to keep the yacht. It costs thousands to have it anchored at the marina.”

  “We don’t have a marina,” Amy said.

  “No, indeed, Hillside does not. This yacht, it’s at the Pelican Rest Marina. Very expensive,” Herman said. He sucked on the end of his cigarette, then jabbed it into the ashtray. “You don’t mind the smoke, yes?”

  Heather opened her mouth. “I –”

  “Yes, gut. Gut,” Herman said. “Now, what can I help you lovely ladies with this morning? You are a ray of sunshine in my office.” His kind smile came across as grandfatherly, which suited his age.

  Tufts of gray hair poked out of his ears, and a golden wedding band glimmered on his finger.

  “Mr. Schulz, I’m Heather Shepherd. A consultant for the Hillside Police Department,” she said.

  Amy mimed the words alongside her.

  “Oh? And what do you need, Mrs. Shepherd?” Herman asked, though his top lip quivered.