Banana Coconut Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 21 Page 5

  Pamela walked to the window and looked down on their small back yard. “I like what I see. I’ll be honest with you folks, Bill and Colleen are moving soon. Next week, to be specific. They made up their mind, they’ve already found a place, and they’re gone. Lilly’s placement is of the utmost importance.”

  “We’re ready,” Ryan said, firmly.

  Heather’s insides turned around and around. Nausea beset her. “Yeah.”

  “I’ve got one other couple who are interested in fostering Lilly, but I like what I see here,” Pamela said, and glanced around the room. “A lot.”

  “You’re taking Lilly’s opinion into consideration, right?” Heather asked. “Shouldn’t that be what matters most of all? It’s her life we’re talking about here.”

  The corners of Pamela’s mouth twitched upward. She made another mark on the clipboard. “You’re right. Look, there’s not much more I need to see or ask here. I think it’s safe to say that Lilly will be very happy with you two.”

  Tears pricked Heather’s eyes, and she clung to her husband. “Thank you.”

  Pamela walked to them and extended her hand. “I’ll be in touch to organize the day of Lilly’s arrival.”

  Heather took Pamela’s hand and shook it. She blinked tears from her gaze.

  “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd. You’ve just become parents.”

  Chapter 13

  Heather followed her husband up the front stairs to the Hillside Ballet Academy. Her heart pounded against the inside of her chest. She couldn’t shake the joy of the news she’d just received.

  “You okay, hon?” Ryan asked, and looked back over his shoulder.

  “Fine,” she said, “fine. I just need to shift my focus onto the case now.” Heather squared her shoulders.

  They needed more information on Hailey Jaine and Sophia Hunt. That was the goal of this little expedition. Ryan pushed open the front door of the building, and a rush of classical music embraced them.

  Shawn Masterson’s nasal whine echoed down the hall. “One, two, three. Head up, Natalie. Hailey Jaine, you’re not turning out properly. Seven, eight. Ronde Jambe.”

  Ryan turned left and walked toward the source of the noise. He entered the studio hall and stood in the doorway, arms folded. Heather hurried up behind him.

  The music cut out a second later. “One second ladies,” Shawn said.

  He charged across the space, his steps rang on the springy boards, then stopped in front of them. He folded his arms and narrowed his eyes at Heather. His gaze flicked to Ryan, who’d neglected to put on his uniform since he wasn’t on duty.

  “What do you want, Shepherd?” Shawn asked, and his upper lip curled back in a rictus.

  Heather’s good mood sank through the floor. “Mr. Masterson,” she said. “It’s good to see you too. Do you remember my husband? Detective Ryan Shepherd.”

  Shawn’s expression altered immediately. “You’re a detective?”

  “With the Hillside Police Department,” Ryan said and brought out his badge. He flashed it once, then tucked it into his pocket.

  Shawn Masterson cleared his throat. He didn’t look at Heather. “How can I help you, officer?”

  “You can help me by giving me access to your locker room. I want the lockers open. I have a search warrant for this entire building. The quicker you get this done, the better.” Ryan’s tone brooked no argument.

  Heather stifled a smile because it’d probably only delay the process if Shawn spotted it.

  “Of course,” Masterson said. “Just one moment.”

  “We’ll wait outside,” Ryan replied. He turned on his heel and strode to the front of the building, then opened the door and exited.

  Heather hurried after him.

  The temperature had dipped after the heat of the morning. Clouds rolled in on the horizon, and a car drove past, headlights on.

  “I don’t like him,” Ryan said.

  “Me neither. But that doesn’t mean he did it. It’s a good thing we’re here, my love. We need more evidence before we can make a final decision,” Heather replied.

  Ryan grunted. He’d always been protective of her. Shawn’s attitude had put him in a bad mood, as well.

  The door to the dance studio creaked open. “The lockers are open, Detective,” Shawn said. “The ladies are in the dance hall if you need to question them.”

  “That’s fine,” Ryan said. “Please keep practicing. Don’t let our investigation get in your way.” He put emphasis on the word ‘our.’

  Shawn hurried off into the depths of the building, and Heather and Ryan followed him. They turned right instead of left at the base of the stairs and entered the locker room.

  “You see,” he said and pointed at the metal lockers. “The last time I was here, these were all empty or closed.”

  Heather walked forward, then grasped one of the doors and studied the name pasted on the front. “Helena Kloss,” she said. “At least, they’re all labeled.” This was the second time in two weeks that she’d been in a locker room.

  People kept their secrets in lockers, for some odd reason. Perhaps because it was a less obvious place that their homes.

  The thrum of music took up in the room down the hall.

  “Let’s look for Sophia and Hailey Jaine,” Heather said.

  Ryan walked down the opposite row of lockers and checked the markings on the doors. Heather did the same. Each locker door bore a name. Jade Chance. Rosy Pillofe. Henry Waddington.

  Names upon names. She didn’t recognize any of them.

  “Here’s Sophia’s,” Ryan said. “But it’s empty.”

  “That’s weird. I wonder when she cleared it out.” Heather tapped her chin. “Unless it’s been empty all along.”

  “I couldn’t tell you,” Ryan replied. “I don’t have a photographic memory.”

  Heather grasped the door of the next locker. “Ha! Hailey Jaine. And it’s full. Come check this out.”

  Ryan hurried to her side, and they peered into the locker together.

  Heather shifted a pair of ballet slippers – no wooden blocks in these – to one side. Ryan picked up the flyer for the show. Isabella’s face had been circled in bright red ink.

  Heather reached into the locker, and her fingertips grazed fine, metal links. She grabbed them and drew out… “A necklace,” she said. “Look at this.”

  Ryan put the flyer back in the locker, then took the fine necklace from Heather. “This looks familiar. This is, wait, that’s strange. This is the same necklace as the one we found in Isabella’s hand.”

  “Why would Hailey have a copy of Isabella’s necklace?” Heather asked. “That makes no sense. Unless she was jealous enough to mimic her every move.”

  “Hold on a second,” Ryan said. “I’m going to go fetch her.” The handsome detective handed her the necklace, then rushed out of the locker room and down the hall.

  Heather admired the sterling silver links and the heart which would’ve sat at the base of the wearer’s neck. It was a thing of beauty. She lifted it and the fluorescent lights overhead struck the silver heart.

  Footsteps clattered down the hall, and Heather dropped the necklace into her right palm, once again.

  Hailey Jaine entered the room, accompanied by Heather’s husband.

  “What’s going on?” She asked.

  “I think you should tell us that,” Heather replied, and lifted the necklace again. “We found this necklace in your locker. Is it yours?”

  Hailey hurried forward, then took the necklace and touched the heart, lightly. “I’ve never seen this in my life. It’s beautiful, though.”

  “You’re sure about that?” Ryan asked.

  “Yeah, of course. I mean, just look at it. Isn’t it gorgeous?” Hailey asked.

  Ryan cleared his throat. “Are you sure you’ve never seen it before.”

  Hailey Jane dragged the necklace across her palm and her brow furrowed. She adjusted her pink, ballet sweater. “Wait a second,” she
said. “It does seem familiar, now that you mention it. Why do you ask?”

  “We found it in your locker,” Heather replied.

  “Wha –? That’s impossible. It’s not mine,” Hailey said and dumped it into Heather’s hand again. She glanced at her locker, then jerked back. “And that flyer isn’t mine either.”

  “You’re sure about that,” Ryan said, in a monotone.

  “Yeah, I’m positive. I know what I own,” Hailey replied. “What’s going on here? I mean, do you think I hurt Isabella? Is that what this is about? Because I’d never hurt her. I didn’t like her, but I’d never, you know, actually hurt her.”

  “No one said anything about Isabella,” Ryan replied.

  Hailey pressed her lips into a thin lined. “Whatever. It’s not mine,” she said, and stared at the necklace. “It’s not mine.”

  And that left two options: either Hailey was a liar, or someone wanted to frame her.

  Chapter 14

  Heather sat at the wrought iron table in the center of Donut Delights and placed another, perfectly folded cardboard box on the glass top. She wriggled her nose at it, then sighed.

  “What’s the matter?” Amy asked. She folded the flaps into place and constructed a box of her own, then placed it on top of Heather’s. “Too many orders for your liking?”

  “No,” Heather said, “it’s not that.” She stifled a yawn and glanced out of the front windows of the store.

  The sun hadn’t risen yet, and the peace of pre-rush hour wafted through the store. They had orders up to their ears, and she had an interview set up for that afternoon, but she couldn’t shake her curiosity.

  The necklace.

  “Then what is it?” Amy asked, then lifted her coffee cup and slurped from its contents. “More creeping through people’s rose bushes?”

  “No, and those were tulips,” Heather replied. Amy still hadn’t forgiven her for their botched stakeout a few nights back. “It’s the case. I can’t get the necklace off my mind. I know it’s important somehow, I just can’t work out the connection between Isabella, Hailey, and the necklace.”

  Amy folded another box and propped it on top of the others, then leaned around the tower and met Heather’s gaze. “You said the necklace had a heart on it?”

  “Yeah,” Heather replied.

  “Seems kind of personal, if you ask me,” Amy replied.

  Heather’s eyes widened, and she hopped out of her seat. A Donut Delights box toppled from the top of the pile, and she bent, swept it up, then placed it back on the tower.

  “Uh oh, I know you’re onto something when you do that,” Amy said and squished around in her seat. “What is it?”

  “You’re right. The necklace, the heart, it is personal. What if it’s the necklace Shawn gave Isabella?” Heather asked. “What if he planted it in Hailey’s locker, while he was opening them all up?”

  “But, wait, didn’t Isabella die with the necklace in her hand?” Amy asked.

  Heather’s thoughts stalled and she stopped mid-stride. Her shoulders drooped. “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “You’re tired, and you need some time off. This week has been way too exciting for you. Maybe you and I should go out tonight. Have a girl’s night. Eat sushi until we’re ready to pop, then go back to your place and watch Beaches,” Amy said.

  “Beaches,” Heather groaned. “The rest of it sounds great. But Ames, you’ve got to let go of that Beaches DVD, sometime soon.”

  “Never,” Amy hissed.

  Heather chuckled and sat back down in front of the leaning tower of cardboard boxes. “The necklace,” she said. “So, either this was a necklace someone gave to Hailey, or it belonged to someone else.”

  “But why would they put it in her locker in the first place? Unless the necklace that was on Isabella wasn’t the necklace that Shawn gave her,” Amy replied. She sniffed. “Ugh, no wonder you’re so tense. This is making my brain smoke, just thinking about it.”

  Heather folded another cardboard box and added it to the Jenga tower of boxes. “It could’ve been innocent. Just a random necklace, but I get the feeling it’s not. The necklace was a mimic of Isabella’s. A replica.”

  “Shawn,” Amy said.

  “What?”

  “Shawn was in love with Isabella, right?” Amy asked. “Maybe he gave her a necklace which was the same as the one he’d given Sophia.”

  “That’s a bit of a stretch,” Heather said. “I have no proof that Sophia had a matching necklace.”

  “Yeah, but if she did, she might’ve taken it off and put it in Hailey’s locker. Or worse, Shawn took it and placed it in Hailey’s locker to frame her.” Amy raised her finger. “Or wait, even worse, what if Hailey and Shawn are having an affair and the necklace is actually hers and – oh, this is giving me a headache.” Amy massaged her temples. “Honestly, Heather, I don’t know how you do this.”

  Heather puffed her cheeks out and blew a raspberry. “Honestly, I’m beginning to wonder that myself.”

  The evidence in the case had stacked up evenly against every suspect. She had no idea which way to turn, or what to do.

  “I guess, I need help on this one,” Heather said. “I need another lead. Another clue.”

  Amy laughed. “No, you need another donut and some relaxation. I’m telling you, girl, after tonight, everything will become clear. The human brain works in mysterious ways.”

  Heather’s mouth twitched upward, and she forced it straight again. “Go on, tell me more about the human brain.”

  Amy sighed, “Fine, I mean, I’ve taught you so much already. I figure it’s like this, the minute you let it relax, the answer will just pop up out of the blue.”

  “Brain matter is gray, Ames, and trust me, if the answer was in there,” Heather said and tapped the side of her head. “I would’ve sleuthed it out already.”

  “Fine, don’t believe me,” Amy replied, and folded another box. She propped it on top of the tower, and it wobbled a little. “But mark my words, tonight is the night.”

  Chapter 15

  Amy lifted the piece of sushi between her fingers and wagged it around. “I firmly believe that eating with the fingers is the healthier choice. Keeps you regular.”

  “Is today, wisdom day?” Heather asked, and fumbled her chopsticks around in her right hand. “Anyway, you’re just saying that because you can’t work chopsticks.”

  Amy scoffed and dabbed her piece of nigiri in the soy sauce bowl, then deposited into her mouth. “Oh yeah, prawn is officially my favorite kind. Wow.”

  Heather took a bead of wasabi and smeared it over the top of her California roll. She dipped the sushi into the soy sauce, then gobbled it up. The salt of soy and the sweet, cool fish in the center of the rice melded perfectly together.

  “I’m in love with this place,” Heather said. “Ryan’s okay with sushi, but he’s definitely the comfort food kind. I wish we came here more often.”

  Amy nodded and gestured with a fashion sandwich. “We should have a girl’s night at least once every two weeks. I mean, this is the best.”

  They’d picked a booth in the corner of the room, but the revolving table of sushi plates topped with glass domes sat a few feet away. A wave of the hand and they could have refills on whichever type of sushi they wanted.

  “So, how are you feeling now?” Amy asked.

  “Like I could sleep for days. And confused. I’m sorry, Ames, but I still can’t wrap my head around the whole ‘necklace’ thing. Ryan’s stumped too. He’s been spending more and more time at work trying to get to the bottom of this.” Heather took a sip of her iced water, then placed it beside her plate.

  “Ah, you’ll get to the bottom of it,” Ames replied. “Besides, you’ve got so much to look forward to now. Lilly is moving in, new orders at the store, another assistant.”

  “Ugh,” Heather said. “Wow, I'm negative, aren’t I? The interview didn’t go great this afternoon. I don’t think Damien would be a good fit fo
r Donut Delights.”

  Amy chased another piece of sushi through the soy sauce. “Why’s that?”

  “Because he didn’t agree with my use of animal products in the donuts. Eggs, butter, anything like that,” Heather said. “I didn’t want to tell him to get lost, but he sure pushed the envelope.”

  “Sounds like a health food store enthusiast,” Amy said, darkly. She chomped down on her sushi and chewed. “You didn’t hire him, right?”

  “No, I didn’t. Not only because he wasn’t a match, but it just wouldn’t be fair to him to have him working with ingredients he couldn’t stand. He’d never be able to eat a donut,” Heather replied.

  “That would be a crime,” Amy replied, and clicked her fingers. She splashed soy sauce across the dark wood of the table top.

  “Don’t say crime. You’ll set my brain off.” Heather pinched the bridge of her nose. “But you know what?”

  “What?”

  “Talking to Damien got me thinking – we should introduce a gluten-free donut. Something low-fat, delicious, and health conscious.”

  “I support this idea, if only because I’m expanding outward at an alarming rate,” Amy said, and patted her belly, which was thin as ever.

  “Whatever,” Heather said, then chuckled.

  Her cell buzzed in her pocket, and she jumped.

  “What?”

  “Call,” Heather said and wriggled her phone out into plain view. She swiped her thumb across the screen to answer, then pressed the cell to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Mrs. Shepherd?” A woman whispered.

  Heather blocked her other ear with her finger and frowned. “Yeah, this is me. Who is this?”

  “Oh thank goodness. Mrs. Shepherd, it’s Hailey Jaine,” she whispered into the phone.

  “Hailey,” Heather said, loudly, and Amy perked up. “How can I help?”

  “Listen, it freaked me out that you guys thought I hurt Isabella. I told you I didn’t like her, but I would never hurt her.”