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Sinister Sprinkles Part 29

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I picked it up, and instead of the dial tone I'd been expecting, all I heard was a hissing and crackling on the other end.

"It's dead," I said.

"That's why I came trudging through the snow. I was worried about you."

"I'm fine," I said. "You didn't have to come all this way."

"Are you kidding me? I've been going crazy with worry."



"Is that what brought you out in this mess? I'm touched, I truly am."

George shrugged. "Man, do I have a blockbuster for you."

"I could use some new information," I said. I remembered my conversation with Cara, and said, "I've got some news myself."

"Go ahead, let's hear it."

"I found out Lester Moorefield lost his feed the day of the murder and was off the air long enough to kill Darlene and get back to the remote station."

"Didn't someone from the station notice he was gone?" George asked.

"He worked the location alone," I said. "Lester is still on our list, stronger than ever." I looked at George, then said, "Go on. I can tell you're about to burst. What did you find out?"

"It turns out that Darlene's cousin, Taylor-the one who was executor of their great-aunt's estate-has a dirty little secret of his own."

"What is it?" I asked.

"He's got a record as long as my arm, and I'm pretty sure he had more of a reason to kill Darlene than any of us realized."

PILLA BITES.

These are very loosely based on a Mexican dessert, but I've changed it quite a bit over the years. These aren't as sweet as most donuts, but they're still tasty.

INGREDIENTS.

* 1 cup flour * 12 teaspoon baking powder * 12 teaspoon baking soda * 14 teaspoon salt * 12 teaspoon granulated sugar * 1 tablespoon b.u.t.ter, soft * Water, warm (as needed) DIRECTIONS.

Sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and sugar, then add the b.u.t.ter until it's absorbed into the dough. Add warm water to the dough until it reaches the consistency of pie crust. Set it aside for 2030 minutes, then roll the dough out to 18 inch. Cut diamonds, rounds, or donut shapes out of the dough, then fry in 360F canola oil. They cook very quickly so keep watch, and flip when one side browns.

Drain on paper towels, dust with a little sugar or a dab on a touch of honey, and enjoy!

CHAPTER 14.

"What has he been arrested for?" I asked.

"The list is pretty long, but it's mostly centered on fraud. The man's a con man, and one of his scams was robbing widows out of their inheritances. You'll never believe how he did it."

"You've got my attention," I said. "Stop holding back."

George nodded. "Good old Taylor found new widows without anyone else in their lives, and he stepped in and offered to take over as executor for their late husbands' estates. By the time he was done milking them, there wasn't much left. I have a feeling that if he got his hands on that money, there wouldn't have been anything left to distribute."

"And a hundred thousand dollars is a motive for murder, even if a thousand isn't," I said. "That's good work, George."

"It wasn't too tough, once I figured out his real name, and some of the aliases he was using."

"What do we do now?" I asked as I topped off his coffee.

George said, "I told the chief what I suspected this morning, and he's looking for Taylor right now." He looked at me as he added, "Suzanne, I owed him that, after what happened with Muriel. I had to get back in his good graces."

I patted his hand. "I don't care who catches the killer, just as long as he's caught. You really think he did it?"

"I think there's a good chance of it," George said. He took another drink of coffee, then said, "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to help them look. I'll let you know when we find him."

Once he was gone, Emma walked back out front. "Was that George?"

"As a matter of fact, it was. He thinks Darlene's cousin Taylor killed her, and he's out looking for him now, along with the police."

"I don't know how you do it," Emma said.

"Do what?" I asked as I cleaned one of our tables. The snow was still coming down outside at a furious pace.

"Deal with murderers," she said. "At one point I thought I was cut out for digging into people's lives, but deep down, I realize that I'm not."

"It's not like I go out looking for trouble," I said. "It just seems to have a way of finding me."

By eleven-thirty that morning, we'd sold a great many more donuts than I'd ever expected, and I was glad we'd braved the elements and come to work.

Emma kept looking outside, until I finally said, "Why don't you just go on home. I can handle it till closing."

"Are you sure?" she said as she grabbed her coat. Emma had learned early on that whenever an escape route was offered, it made sense to jump on it, since things could change so quickly.

"I'm sure," I said before she was halfway out the door. I got out my mop and touched up the floor where newspapers didn't quite cover it, and was just putting it away when the front door opened.

From the look on his face, Lester Moorefield hadn't come by Donut Hearts for a morning treat.

He looked angry, and I suddenly realized that I was at the donut shop all alone.

"Good morning, Lester," I said. "Shouldn't you still be on the air?"

"We're running the Best of Lest for the last hour." He didn't even offer me a greeting back. "Suzanne, you need to stop what you're doing, or someone's going to get hurt."

"What are you talking about?" I said as I eased myself back toward the mop. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it had to be better than facing him down barehanded.

He kept approaching, and in a few seconds he cut off my route to the back. "You're sticking your nose somewhere it doesn't belong."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," I said. Why on earth had I sent Emma home early? Not that she would be much help if something happened, but it would be nice if there was a witness to whatever Lester had in mind for me.

"You know exactly what I mean," he said, and I could smell a trace of alcohol on his breath.

We held the stare for a few seconds when the front door opened. A burly man bundled up for the weather came in, and Lester stepped away from me and left the donut shop without another word.

The man stared at his retreating form, then asked me, "Is everything all right?"

"It's fine," I said, collecting myself and waiting on him. Lester's behavior had shaken me more than I cared to admit. I'd known all along that I was vulnerable working at the donut shop, and I wondered if perhaps Emma was right. Maybe I should step out of the way and let Chief Martin handle the criminals. I would be a lot safer if I just stuck to donuts.

But I couldn't do it. If I, or someone I cared about, was under suspicion when I knew in my heart they were innocent, I couldn't stand idly by. I wasn't wired that way.

No matter what the risk, I had to help my friends, or what was I? And that circle included Max. Though my love for him was finished, there was still an element of caring there. It mattered to me what happened to him, and if I could help him, I would.

That didn't mean I had to set myself up, though. I decided to close up early, and locked the front door ten minutes before noon. I wished I could leave, but I still had some cleaning to do. If I didn't, Emma and I would face twice the work tomorrow morning. But it felt good latching the deadbolt in place, and as I did, I saw that it was still snowing at a rapid pace, coming down in sheets of white. What was going on with the weather?

There were barely a dozen donuts left as I cleaned the trays, so I put them in a box to take home with me. All I wanted to do was clean up and get out of there.

As I collected the soiled newspapers on the floor, something on the counter caught my attention, and I nearly fell over when I realized a connection I'd been missing all morning.

I knew who the murderer was, and the clue had been staring at me even before Darlene was murdered.

I put on my boots and grabbed my jacket, then almost as an afterthought, grabbed the clue that had finally struck home and headed out into the blizzard. I knew Chief Martin was out there looking for Taylor, but suddenly, I realized he was going after the wrong suspect.

The storm was fierce, and I'd just made it three steps out my door when a voice came from around the corner. "Get back inside."

"Hi, Wilma. I was just on my way home."

"With that?" she said as she gestured to the gumdrop tree in my hands.

"I thought it would look better on our fireplace mantle at home."

"Do as I say and get inside, Suzanne."

And that's when I saw the gun in her hand.

Once we were back in the shop, I knew I was lost, but that didn't mean I was ready to give up. If I could stall her long enough, maybe someone would come by. George could return, or I might find an opening to stop her from killing me. One thing was certain; if I just submitted to her will, I was dead.

Wilma said, "You're smarter than I thought you were. That was a pretty clever trap you set." She motioned toward the gumdrop tree. "Pretty bold of you, sneaking it out of her apartment like that."

"Believe it or not, this isn't Darlene's. We must have the only two in town. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me when I saw it at her place a few days ago."

Wilma's expression faltered. "Why should I believe you?"

I said, "Why shouldn't you? You're the one with the gun, and it just happens to be the truth."

"Then how did you know I killed her?"

I started working my way toward the mop. Maybe I could knock the gun out of her hand with it. At least I'd die trying to save myself, and not be shot like some tin can in a shooting gallery.

"I saw the way you reacted when you spotted it on my counter. You told me yourself that you'd never been in Darlene's apartment, but why would you lie about it, unless you had something to hide? It's the only way it all made sense. But honestly, why kill her, Wilma? Did the money mean that much to you?"

"It wasn't the money, you idiot," she said. "It was the betrayal. I could have lived with her stealing from me, but when she took money from Lester Moorefield to spread rumors about me and my shop, she went too far. My business is my sanctuary, and she soiled it. I had no choice. I thought a stake through the heart was an appropriate response for a traitor, even if it was on the other end of a candy cane."

"How is it that no one saw you do it?" I had to keep her talking. I was nearly at the mop, and if I could just get a little closer, I could make my move.

Wilma laughed, like a child getting a special Christmas present. "Trust me, no one could be more surprised than I was. I kept expecting someone to wrestle me to the ground, but when I realized that no one had noticed what I'd done, I simply walked away."

"And you can do that again right now. You don't have to kill me," I said. "I won't tell a soul."

"We both know better than that," she said.

"People are going to realize you had to be the one who shot me. It's pretty clear you're tied up into this mess, and Chief Martin's no fool."

"This is going to look like a botched robbery. You were already hit once this week, weren't you? It's not hard to believe that whoever robbed you the first time came back for what was left."

I realized that she was probably right. No one but Emma knew Max had robbed the shop himself. She'd come forward after I was dead, so at least I had hope that it wouldn't go unsolved.

But I never wanted it to get that far. "Wilma, we can work something out."

She shook her head. "I'm afraid you're just a loose end I need to tie off, Suzanne. I'm sorry, I truly am." She stared at my ponytail, then said, "You really should have let me do your hair. Tell you what. I'll talk to the funeral home and volunteer my services. When everybody in town sees my hairstyle on you in that open coffin, they'll be amazed at how lovely you look."

That was even more incentive to stop her. I'd rather die than have her touch my hair, and I was about to prove it.

As my hand lunged for the mop, a shot filled the shop with explosive noise, and I could swear I felt the wind from the bullet.

"Stand still," she commanded me as she took aim for another try.

Just as she spoke, the front window of the donut shop shattered into a thousand tiny glistening fragments. Wilma turned toward the street, and I grabbed the mop and swung it with all my might. I missed her head, hitting her shoulder instead as another shot rang out. The gun went flying, and we both dove for it.

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