Donut Shop Mystery 25 - Devil's Food Defense (2 page)

“Well, he’s managed to do that,” she said. In an abrupt change of subject, Emma asked, “How long is Jake going to be in Raleigh?”

“I’m not sure,” I answered.

“Are you two having problems?” Emma asked me, clearly concerned about his absence.

“No, of course not. Why do you ask?”

“I’m just kind of surprised you didn’t go with him. You know Mom and I would have been happy to run the shop for you if you needed to be there.”

“I know, and I appreciate it, but I didn’t want to let Momma down. This film night is her baby, and I wanted to be here in case she needed me.”

Emma frowned. “And that’s the only reason you stayed in town?”

She wasn’t going to let me slide on it; I could see that clearly enough. “It’s the main one, but the truth of the matter is that his sister, Sarah, doesn’t like me,” I blurted out.

“You? Who doesn’t like you? I’m having a hard time believing that. You’re extremely likeable, Suzanne,” Emma said, puzzled.

“I know, right?” I asked her with a grin, feeling better after saying it aloud.

“Did you do something to her, maybe even something you weren’t aware of doing? If you did, maybe an apology would smooth things over between you.”

“What I did, I refuse to apologize for,” I said firmly.

“Wow, that must have been a real doozy. Don’t keep me in suspense. What did you do?”

“I had the audacity to marry her brother,” I said. “She was a big fan of Jake’s first wife, and she told me in no uncertain terms when we first met that nobody would be good enough for him in her eyes, no matter how happy I made him.”

“Give her some time. I’m sure she’ll come around eventually,” Emma answered.

“Maybe, but I didn’t have the strength to deal with her this weekend,” I replied. “Movie Night gave me a perfect excuse to beg off from going on the trip.”

“Well, I for one am glad that you’re here. We’re going to have fun.” She paused and then smiled for a moment before speaking. “Say, I have an idea.”

“What’s that?” I asked as I turned the yeast dough out onto the floured stainless steel counter.

“Let’s have a competition. Whoever sells the most donuts this evening gets a reward.”

“What did you have in mind? I’m not sure we can afford a cash prize, even with the added income we should take in tonight.”

“I’m not talking about anything as crass as money,” Emma said with a grin. “I was thinking more along the lines of sleep. The winner gets to come into the shop an hour late, or leave an hour early.”

Since I was the boss, I felt an obligation to be the first one on the scene and the last one to turn off the lights as I was leaving, but Emma looked really eager to do this. “Sure. Why not? You’ve got a deal. I’ll warn you right now that I’m not going to sleep in when I win. I’m going to take off at ten and let you close up the shop on your own.”

“That’s
if
you win, you mean,” she said with a smile.

“Do I even need to ask which option you’ll choose if you sell more than I do?” I asked her.

“I doubt it. I choose sleep—always sleep,” she said.

As I worked on getting the yeast donuts ready, I smiled at the thought of the contest Emma had proposed. It might be a fun way to make the extra work pass by quickly. Neither one of us was going to get to see the movie, but that was okay with both of us. Since it was Momma’s favorite, I’d already seen it a dozen times, and Emma hadn’t shown any interest in seeing it alone since she was currently single again.

Hopefully, it would be an uneventful night, and we’d manage to raise some money for a worthwhile charity.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t how it turned out at all.

Chapter 3

A
little later, once our entire inventory of donuts and drinks was ready, I realized that we still had an hour before we needed to start selling to the early birds that would surely gather to pick out the best spots by the park’s gazebo where the backdrop for the movie would be set up. The gazebo had fallen into a state of disrepair lately, and since the town budget had already been stretched to its limit, there was talk of having a fundraiser for its restoration, but tonight’s proceeds were going directly to feed the hungry, a worthier cause, at least in my mind. Tickets were a dollar apiece minimum, but most folks paid quite a bit more than that for the privilege of being chilly as they watched a movie together on an outdoor screen. Trish Granger, who owned the nearby Boxcar Grill, was donating half her profits to the cause as well, but she’d added another spin to things. She was charging a buck a head to use the restroom at the grill. There were porta-potties being supplied by the local contractor scattered all around the park, but I didn’t know many folks who wouldn’t spend a dollar for the comfort of using the diner’s indoor facilities. Leave it to Trish to come up with a way to raise money for charity by using her restrooms. I would have done the same, but our bare facilities at the donut shop weren’t open to the public.

“Why don’t you take an hour off before we get started?” I suggested to Emma as she finished washing up the last dirty dish.

“Nice try, but I’m not falling for that, Suzanne,” she said with a laugh.

“Falling for what?”

“You’re going to start selling donuts the second I leave, aren’t you?” she asked, grinning broadly as she did.

“Drats. You saw right through my nefarious scheme. What if I promise not to get started until you get back?”

“What are you going to do if I take a break?” she asked me.

“First, I’m going to clean up the sales cart. If there’s time after that, I might go to the cottage and take a quick nap.”

“Could you really fall asleep that fast?”

“Emma, the older I get, the more I appreciate a little snooze during the afternoon. Just wait. You’ll see.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she said. “If you don’t mind, I’ll hang around and help you clean up the cart. The truth is, I’m not in any hurry to get home. Mom and Dad are squabbling again, and I’d just as soon not get in between them.”

Emma’s father, Ray Blake, owned and ran the town newspaper. He prided himself on being a genuine reporter, but his leads never turned out to be much. I hadn’t realized that there was tension at home, though. “Is it serious?”

“No, not really. Dad’s been complaining about all of the trips Mom has been planning. He threatened to go with her, but she called his bluff and invited him to go with her the next time; you know him. He won’t leave that precious paper of his. It’s just the same old verse, but I get tired of hearing it sometimes.”

“Then let’s get started on that cart,” I said, feeling sorry for Emma’s domestic situation but not knowing anything I could do about it. At one time, she and her best friend, Emily Hargraves, had talked about moving out of their parents’ homes and sharing an apartment, but it sounded as though Emily and my ex-husband, Max, might be getting married any day, so Emily had pulled out of the deal. I was amazed how patient Max was being with Emily. They’d almost walked down the aisle together once, but murder had called off the nuptials. One of these days I figured they’d decide to elope, but in the meantime, they seemed perfectly content to share each other’s company whenever they could manage it.

As we cleaned the cart up, several folks stopped by and asked about the donuts for sale inside. I looked at Emma and shrugged. “What do you think? Should we go ahead and open?”

“That depends. Who gets the sales?” she asked.

“Tell you what. If you start off working in the shop, I won’t load the cart for an hour to give you a head start. Then, after my first hour, we’ll switch off every hour until we’re done for the night. After we’re through, we can check our totals and see who gets the hour off we’re battling for.”

“How do we keep track of who sells what?” she asked.

“We’ll use the honor system and keep a tally of what we each sell. I trust you. You trust me, don’t you?” I asked her with a smile.

“Of course I do. After all, I know you wouldn’t be able to live with a guilty conscience if you cheated,” she said wickedly.

“Right back at you,” I said. “Go on. Open up.”

“It’s a deal,” she said as she invited the first inquiring customers in.

I had an hour to kill before I could start selling from the cart, so I decided that instead of taking a nap, I’d take a walk around town before things got busy.

Grace Gauge, my best friend, found me three minutes after I left the shop.

“Hey, Suzanne. Boy, you must be dead on your feet. Have you even been home today?”

“Barely,” I said. “How about you? Are you finished for the day?”

She nodded as she grinned at me. “You know me. I get my work done fast. I think an eight-hour day at this point might actually kill me.”

“As long as you can get away with it,” I said. Grace was a sales supervisor at a cosmetics company, and she believed in a hands-off approach unless there were problems. It freed up a great deal of her day, and it offered the added bonus of making her employees all love her.

“Are you using the donut cart for movie night?” she asked as she pointed to our portable sales unit. “That’s brilliant.”

“Emma and I thought it might be fun having a competition to see who can sell the most donuts this evening.”

“Then why aren’t you stocked and selling? She’s going to beat you at this rate.”

There were three customers in the shop at the moment, so I really wasn’t worried about it. “I’m good. Since I’m taking the first shift out here, I’m giving her a head start.”

“What are you shooting for, a cash prize?”

“No, an hour off with pay,” I admitted, feeling a little cheap with my offering. “Do you think that’s enough?”

“Are you kidding? An hour of sleep is worth solid gold. Since you’re not starting right away, do you want to take a walk? I’m headed over to the police station to give Stephen something.”

“What’s so important that you have to hand-deliver it?” I asked her.

“I bought him a raffle ticket from the Quilting Club. They’re going to customize a quilt for the winner. Do you have your ticket yet?”

“I bought two,” I admitted. “If I win, I’m going to have them make a donut-themed quilt for the shop.”

“You’re a woman of limited interests, aren’t you?” she asked with a smile.

“What can I say? Donuts have become an obsession with me. Did you get a ticket for yourself?”

“I bought one, too,” she admitted.

“What would yours feature?” I asked her.

“I haven’t decided yet. I figure the odds are long of me winning, but since the proceeds are going to the Food Bank, how could I say no? I’m guessing that you’re going to sell a lot of donuts tonight. Folks are really digging deep for this fundraiser.”

“Why shouldn’t they? I know that it’s a cause near and dear to my heart,” I said. We walked through town chatting about nothing in particular, but we didn’t have to go all the way to the station to find the police chief. Stephen Grant was standing in front of city hall directing three volunteer firemen as they unloaded sixteen folding chairs from a pickup truck. They were for reserved seating up front, costing fifty dollars apiece, while everyone else had been encouraged to bring lawn chairs and blankets.

“Hey, babe. Got a second?” Grace asked him as we approached.

“In a minute,” he said sternly, clearly unhappy about being called an endearment in front of the firefighters.

“Where should we set these up, ba…I mean Chief?” one of the firemen asked him with a devilish grin.

“Front and center, just like I said earlier,” Chief Grant said sternly.

As the men were doing as they were told, the police chief said softly, “Come on, Grace. I have a tough enough time getting them to respect me without you adding to it. I’m younger than just about everybody in a position of authority around here.”

“Sorry,” she said, actually managing to look contrite for a moment. “I bought you a raffle ticket for the quilt drawing.”

He managed to smile as he reached into his shirt pocket. “Great minds think alike. I got one for you, too.”

“Let’s trade,” she said.

“Or, we could just keep the ones we bought,” he said.

“No way, mister. That might ruin our luck,” Grace said.

As they made the exchange, Stephen asked me, “Where’s Jake?”

“He’s in Raleigh visiting his sister,” Grace answered before I could. “I told you about it.”

“Oh, that’s right. Sorry.”

Was there a hint of pity in his voice as he said it? “There’s nothing to be sorry about, Chief. He’s visiting some of his family. I stayed behind to help Momma with all of this.”

“By the way, where is your mother?” the chief asked me. “Have you seen her recently?”

“If I know her, she’s getting George Morris ready for his presentation tonight. Gladys is the one she should be worried about, if you ask me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Think about it. She usually spends her days behind the scenes at the Boxcar Grill cooking. I’m not sure that she’s ever spoken in public before.”

“She’s probably been coaching her as well,” Chief Grant said. “Why does George need a pep talk?”

“The mayor is saying a few words about the Food Bank before the movie starts, and everybody knows he isn’t that comfortable speaking in front of big crowds,” I explained.

“It’s an odd affliction for a politician to have,” Grace said.

“Don’t forget, Momma railroaded him into the job,” I reminded her.

“Sure, the first time, but he ran for reelection and won handily since then. He can’t really blame Dot for being in the job now.”

“That’s a point,” I said.

Grace leaned in to kiss the chief’s cheek, but he pulled away at the last second. “Come on, not in public,” Chief Grant said.

Grace raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Don’t you think folks around town know that we’re together? Stephen Grant, if you don’t kiss me right here and now in front of everyone, you’re not going to get the opportunity to do it later in private.”

The police chief took one glance at his girlfriend and saw that she wasn’t kidding. He leaned in and gave her a hearty kiss, quite a bit more than the peck she’d just tried to deliver. When he pulled away, he asked, “Is that better?”

“Well, there’s always room for improvement, but I’ll give you a gold star for effort,” she said with a wicked grin.

He just laughed, and then it faded quickly. “I cannot believe that they’re putting the chairs in the wrong place. Excuse me, ladies. I’ve got to take care of this.”

Once he walked over to join the firefighters, I said, “You were kind of hard on him, weren’t you?”

“Hey, it takes a lot of effort to train a new boyfriend. He’s more work than paper-training a puppy.”

“I’ll take your word for that,” I said.

“Do you need any help with your donut cart sales?” Grace asked me a little later. “I can sell anything, from eyeliner to crullers. Just try me.”

“I would, but I’m not sure that would be fair to Emma.” I glanced at my watch and saw that it wouldn’t be long until Momma started the festivities. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but dusk was clearly on its way, and folks were beginning to gather in earnest. The screen, sections of plywood painted white, had been covered for days, and it would be pulled down only when the movie started. “Speaking of which, my hour is up. I’d better get busy selling.”

“I’ll see you after the movie,” Grace said.

I walked into the donut shop and found Emma grinning. “Business has been booming. You’re going to have to really hustle to catch up with me.”

“Don’t make any plans for that extra hour of sleep just yet,” I answered as I started putting together three trays of our bestsellers. “Could you grab two urns and put some coffee in one and hot chocolate in the other? It’s getting brisk out there,” I said as I grabbed some paper cups.