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Funfetti Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 52 Page 7
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Page 7
“I should have realized how strange it was,” Heather said. “The switch you made from the bake sale to the when we talked to you about Marcia Lindau’s murder. I didn’t appreciate its significance.”
“What are you talking about?” Claire asked. “What switch?”
“At the bake sale when Marcia was saying I didn’t give Lilly enough attention, you were the one who told her I was in the newspaper all the time for investigating crime.”
“So?” Claire said, “Lots of people read the paper.”
“Yes, but when Amy and I went to question you and your friends about Marcia’s death, you said you didn’t believe we were real investigators. You made us show you our identification.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being careful,” Claire said. “There are a lot of imposters out there.”
“It does seem strange to announce somebody as an investigator one day, and doubt their credentials the following day,” Ryan admitted.
“So?” Claire said, “That doesn’t prove anything.”
“No, not by itself. You made a mistake, Claire,” Heather said.
“What do you mean?”
“There were traces of insulin in the wine bottle,” Heather told her.
Claire paled but pretended not to understand the significance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I realized that the killer must have carried the arsenic in a diabetic insulin needle and then inserted it into the wine. It was a convenient carrying case for them, and they would have an excuse for having a large needle with them if they were caught with it by saying it was a medical device.”
“I still don’t see what this has to do with me,” Claire said quietly.
“We made a mistake in our thinking though,” Heather said. “We kept assuming that it was the killer who had diabetes. But the killer didn’t have to be. She could have gotten the needles another way.”
“I didn’t rob any medical supply stores recently,” Claire said bitterly.
“You didn’t have to,” Heather said. “Your daughter has diabetes. You could have just taken one of her used needles. You thought it was empty and could be used to carry the poison into Marcia’s house.”
“Just because my child has diabetes doesn’t make me a murderer.”
“That’s true,” Heather said. “But you also had the opportunity to plant the poison.”
“Any of the girls at wine night could have poisoned her,” Claire said.
“But it didn’t happen at wine night,” Heather said. “You put the poison in the bottle when you picked Marlena up for the sleepover.”
“You could easily have gone into the kitchen for a moment while waiting for the girls to get ready and committed the deed,” Ryan said.
“It was the only kindness in a horrific act,” Heather said. “You wanted to make sure the little girl wasn’t home when you murdered her mother.”
“This is all circumstantial,” Claire said. “You don’t have any proof.”
“We’re working on it,” Heather said. “They found the trace amount of insulin in the wine. I’m sure the talented forensic lab workers can find out more specifics about it. Every batch is slightly different. They can track what went to your daughter and compare it to what killed Marcia.”
Claire couldn’t tell if she was bluffing or not. She started to look like a caged animal. Her eyes darted around the room.
“But wasn’t she your friend?” Heather asked. “Why did you kill her?”
“My friend,” Claire said aloud.
“I only saw a little bit of the interactions between you both. She was belittling you and telling you to be quiet. Quiet, Claire,” Heather said.
Claire started to take deep breaths. She was getting upset.
“Of course, maybe you liked it when she was mean to you in front of others.”
Claire gritted her teeth.
“Maybe you liked being told to be silent. Quiet, Claire.”
“No!” Claire finally shouted. “I don’t want to be quiet. I hated when she told me to be quiet. She was a terribly mean woman, and I hated her. She wasn’t a friend. She was a queen who lorded power over us peons, and she deserved what she got.”
“What did she deserve?” Heather asked quietly.
“She deserved to choke to death. So she would finally be the quiet one.”
“You killed her?” Ryan asked.
“Yes. I killed her,” Claire said. “And I’d do it again too.”
“Claire Miller,” Ryan said. “I’m going to have to arrest you for the murder of Marcia Lindau.”
“Good,” Claire said. “I want everyone to know it was me. I finally silenced her.”
Chapter 18
Heather put the finishing touches on her Funfetti Donut tower and started into the backyard to deliver them for the girls to enjoy. Kiki and Marlena were both going through a rough time, but Lilly wanted to do what she could to help them get through it. It was a somber playdate, but Heather was glad she had arranged it.
“I know it feels really terrible right now,” Lilly said. “I went through something similar. And I just want you to know it can get better.”
“I don’t see how,” Marlena said. “My mom is gone forever.”
“And you’ll miss her forever,” Lilly said, showing wisdom beyond her years. “But you can miss her and still have friends too.”
“My mom ended up being a bad lady,” Kiki said. She was both sad and embarrassed.
“My other dad was too,” Lilly said.
“How do you deal with it?” Kiki asked. “I want to go screaming into the woods and hide and never come out.”
“I guess I found people that I really care about and some hobbies that make me feel special and I latched onto them.”
“I guess I could latch onto my dad,” Kiki said. “He was really upset by all this too. He said my mom had always been so quiet.”
“I just feel sad,” Marlena said.
“It’s okay to be sad,” Lilly said. “But it’s okay to feel other things sometimes too. It’s okay to be a little happy when something good happens even when you’re overall still really sad. I found that donuts are great with that.”
Heather took that as her cue and delivered the donuts to the girls. A small smile did come to each of their faces as they ate something yummy.
“We can just sit and talk for a while if you want,” Lilly said. “Or we could play a game if you’d rather do that.”
“Maybe we can just sit for a little bit,” Marlena said. “And maybe later we’ll try a game.”
Lilly nodded. “That sounds fine.”
Heather went inside, feeling like a proud mama.
“What are you so happy about?” Amy asked.
“I love the person that Lilly is growing up to be,” Heather said simply.
“Well, she did have a good role model,” said Amy.
“I can’t take all the credit,” Heather said. “She’s wonderful on her own.”
Eva and Leila popped their heads into the room.
“We heard a rumor that there was a tower of donuts,” Eva said.
“I wouldn’t mind being locked up in one of those,” said Leila.
“There was one, but I delivered it to some little girls who needed a pick-me-up.”
Eva and Leila nodded, trying not to look crestfallen.
“However,” Heather said. “I do have more Funfetti Donuts lying around if you’re interested.”
“Of course we are,” Eva said.
“Are you kidding?” asked Leila.
Heather chuckled and brought out one of her secret stashes of donuts. They bit into them and enjoyed them just as much as when they first taste tested them.
“So colorful, and so enjoyable,” Leila said.
“And we’ll be needing the energy these doughy desserts provide us,” Eva said. “We’re off to play Pickleball again.”
“Again?” Heather asked. “You two are on your way to becoming
professionals.”
“Well, we might join the Pickleball club and play more regularly,” Eva confessed. “It was fun being a little competitive.”
“It’s fun for us because we were pretty good at it,” Leila said with a laugh.
“Let me know about any upcoming games,” Heather said. “I’m intrigued, and I’ve love to come to one.”
“And if you two continue to build strong muscles from this game, I’ll have to recruit you to help me and Jamie move.”
“Oh, look at the time,” Leila said.
“We’ve got to run,” Eva agreed.
They took a donut for the road and speedily headed out. Heather and Amy laughed. Ryan entered the room.
“What was all that commotion?” Ryan asked.
“My friends are already trying to bail on helping me move,” Amy said.
“How are your move in plans going?” Ryan asked.
“We settled on a couch,” Amy said. Ryan didn’t look duly impressed, so Amy continued, “That was a huge deal.”
“I believe you,” Ryan said with a smile. “But after solving that case, I think anything else would seem easy.”
“This was a tough one,” Heather admitted. “If we didn’t get Claire to confess, I’m not sure what we discovered would have held up in court.”
“The lab techs couldn’t really determine that the insulin came from a specific user?” Amy asked.
“I didn’t think that was possible,” Ryan said.
“It sounded impressive though,” Amy admitted.
“I had a feeling that Claire Miller wanted to confess and talk about what she had done after being downtrodden by Marcia Lindau for so long. I’m glad we were able to get her talking,” Heather said.
“You were great with the interrogation,” Ryan complimented her.
“Thanks,” Heather said. “But we should probably stop talking about Claire while her daughter is here. I don’t want to upset her.”
“How is this playdate going?” Ryan asked. He had been wary about the idea of bringing the victim’s and the killer’s daughters together, even if they had been best friends before the ordeal. He also wasn’t sure that he wanted Lilly to be involved in the potential drama.
“As good as gold,” Heather said. “I think having Lilly as a friend is exactly what they need right now, and Lilly is happy to help her new friends.”
The peeked out the window and saw that the girls had decided to play a game. It was low-key but made Heather think that everything was going to be all right.
“You have a huge smile on your face,” Ryan commented.
“I was just thinking,” Heather said.
“About what?” He asked.
“How glad I am to have a little girl.”
“Me too,” he said, giving her a hug.
“Don’t get too mushy,” Amy chided. “I am still standing right here.”
The parents kept hugging but laughed as they did so. Amy joined them at the window, and they watched the girls play their sweet game. It was a peaceful moment, and Heather felt truly calm.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Ryan said.
“What?”
“I ran into the new PTA president, Lisa. She said she was a friend of yours.”
Heather nodded. “I like her a lot.”
“Well, she wanted to know if you could bake a couple of hundred donuts for another bake sale. She seems really gung-ho on making money for the club.”
Heather felt her calmness start to ebb away, but all she could do was laugh.
The End
A letter from the Author
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Susan Gillard