M&M Surprise Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 17 (5 page)

“Here we go again,” Amy said.

They strode down the track beside the
stands at the Hillside High fields, and Dave trotted along next to them. His
tongue lolled out of the corner of his mouth, and he glanced back at Heather.

Happiness.

The dog could smile to rival Heather
and today that grin pulled at the corners of his furry mouth.

“There they are,” Heather said, and
pointed.

The afternoon sun had passed its
zenith in the sky, and short shadows stretched from the seats and the
receptacles for arrows. It was a wonder they hadn’t taken the targets down,
yet.

Perhaps, the Olympic fever had struck
Hillside in the jaw.

“Yeah, that’s the guy. It’s the
tanned, car freshener on the nose man,” Amy hissed. She didn’t point, to her
credit. Dave yapped, though.

Coach Hardy turned around and raised a
hand to shield his eyes. “Who are you?” He yelled, from the other side of the
field.

Jinx loosed an arrow, and it hit the
side of the target. “Ugh, did you have to scream right behind me, Coach?”

“Quiet down,” he grumbled. He scraped
his slicked-back hairdo, then narrowed his eyes at Heather. “Who are you? This
is a private practice session.”

“Super friendly, already,” Amy said,
softly. “This is going to go so well. I can just tell.”

“Your sarcasm knows no bounds,”
Heather replied, in a similar tone.

They trudged across the field and
stopped a few paces short of the unfriendly coach.

Coach Hardy adjusted the waistband on
his shorts, then snapped it back into place. Two moist moons spread beneath his
armpits, and his upper lip, shaded by that enormous nose, held a sea of sweat
droplets.

“Hi,” Heather said and didn’t extend a
hand. Sweaty palms were a no go for her. “I’m Heather Shepherd.”

“Yeah,” he said, then shrugged. “The
donut chick.”

“Woman,” Amy said, and pursed her
lips. “Do you need a towel?”

Hardy’s expression darkened. “Excuse
me?”

Amy raised her palm. “Just trying to
be helpful.”

“You’re Jinx’s coach?” Heather asked.

Jinx glanced up from her an
examination of her arrow, then waved it at them. “Hiya,” she said.

Amy grinned at her. Dave stood stock
still, beady eyes flicking from Jinx to the coach and then the arrows.

“Yeah, I am. What about it?” Hardy
asked, and folded his arms. They slipped apart – all that perspiration, ew –
and he shook them out.

“Just making friendly conversation,”
Heather replied.

“Huh, so let me get this straight,”
the coach said and scratched the back of his head. The helmet of slicked hair
didn’t move. “You marched halfway across a field in the middle of the
afternoon, under this sun, just to make cute conversation? I don’t buy it.”

“You should buy a stick of deodorant,
though. Or a bottle of cologne. Both? Soap, even,” Ames said. Dave barked at
the coach, then sat on Amy’s closed pump. She didn’t complain, for once.

“I came to ask you a few questions if
that’s okay.”

“No, that’s not okay,” Hardy replied.
He faced the target again, then tapped Jinx on the shoulder. “Use my arrows
this time. They’re carbon. Better than your graphite.”

Heather and Amy exchanged a wide-eyed
glance.

“Coach Hardy,” Heather said.

“Enough,” he snapped, then swiveled on
the spot and glared at her. “I’ve had enough. You need to back up, right now.”

Dave disintegrated into an enraged,
furry mess. He barked and howled, then tugged on the end of the leash. Amy
clung on for dear life and glared daggers at Hardy. “See what you’ve done, now?
Ever heard of common decency?” She paused and sniffed. “Or a shower?”

“Ames, take Dave back to the entrance
of the field. I’ll be with you in a sec, okay?” Heather patted her bestie on
the shoulder.

Amy pursed her lips and glared at
Hardy for a second longer, then turned on her heel and led Dave off. He barked
into the distance, hopping back and forth.

“I just came to ask you questions, Mr.
Hardy, there’s no need to get hostile,” Heather replied.

Hardy snorted, then spat on the grass
beside Jinx’s station.

“Ew! What’s wrong with you?” Jessica
said and leaped out of the way. “That’s it. I’m done for today.” She grasped
her bow, dropped Hardy’s carbon arrow – the same as the murder weapon – then
marched off across the field toward the locker rooms.

“See what you did?” Hardy asked. “Ruined
my practice. She needs every minute she can get.”

“I believe you achieved that, all by
yourself,” Heather said and grimaced at him. She took a single step back, then
steeled herself for a verbal tussle. “Coach Hardy, it’s come to my attention
that you’re involved with the widow Henson.”

“Don’t call her that,” he growled and
jabbed his finger at her. “She’s not a Henson anymore.”

“Kyle’s death doesn’t negate their
marriage,” Heather replied.

“I knew it. You’re a nosy cow. You
think I don’t know who you are?” Hardy asked, and sniffed. He wiped the sweat
off his upper lip and smeared it across his cheek. “You’re that amateur
investigator. Everyone’s heard about you.”

“Even, Lori, right? I spoke to her
just the other day. She mentioned her husband, but she sure didn’t mention
you,” Heather said and tilted her head to one side. The sun baked her cheek,
but she didn’t shift her position. “Why do you think that is?”

“None of your business!” Hardy yelled.
“I’m not telling you anything. I’m not talking to you.”

“Relax, Coach. If you’ve got nothing
to hide, then you won’t mind answering a few questions,” Heather replied. Calm.
Absolute calm. She’d been through enough of these interviews to handle them
with aplomb.

Hardy let out a twisted yell, then
turned and darted off down the field. Sweat streaked the back of his shirt and
legs.

“So much for that idea,” Heather
whispered. “That leaves one other suspect to interview.”

Ryan had suggested they split up, but
Lori wouldn’t talk without her lawyer present, and Heather’s hubby dearest
would be forced to let her go without questioning her.

Amy waved from the gates at the end of
the field. “You get anything?” She yelled.

“Nope,” Heather replied, then set off
toward her bestie. She hadn’t gotten a thing out of Hardy, but the day wasn’t
over just yet.

Heather and Amy marched across the
street. Dave, for once, struggled to match their wide steps. He yelped and
whined.

“Not the time, Dave. We’ve got to do
this quick or we won’t get to do it at all,” Heather said.

The lecture did nothing to discourage
her pooch. He whined and yapped, anyway.

“I’ll give you a donut when we get
home,” Heather said.

Dave barked and panted, behind them,
then finally quieted. Donuts were his magic word. Give Dave a donut and he’d
endure the longest walk in the history of all walks.

“Greedy guts,” Amy said, then winked
at the dog.

They checked both sides of the road,
then darted across the next one. They jogged down the sidewalk and turned the
corner.

“There’s the hotel,” Heather said.

“Good, because I’m sweating more than
Coach Hardy, right now.”

Dave barked agreement.

“Who’s that?” Heather asked, then
slowed to a walk. “That’s, wait a second, is that Lori Henson?”

“Yeah, that’s her all right. Look at
that hair. People pay for hair like that. They pay a lot of money.” Amy blinked
at the glint off the woman’s auburn locks. “I’m a little jealous.”

“Don’t go changing, Ames. Your hair is
perfect the way it is,” Heather replied.

“It’s still too short,” Amy grumbled,
then fell quiet.

They hurried down the sidewalk, then
came to a halt a few feet from the woman of the hour. The potential murderer
and mistress.

A man stood in front of her and
gesticulated. “You’re a horrible woman,” he yelled.

“Is that –?” Amy asked.

“Geoff!” Heather screamed. “Lawless,
what are you doing?”

The bearded wonder stopped
mid-arm-wave. He turned on the spot, in slow motion, then met Heather’s gaze.
“Shepherd,” he said, and gave her the nod. His thick eyebrows danced up and
down. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,”
Heather replied.

Amy picked up Dave and stroked him to
cut off the brewing anti-Geoff growls. The dog had never liked the big man.
Dave settled against Amy’s chest but didn’t quit sniffing at the other baker.

Heather toward Lori and Geoff. Her
low-slung heels clicked on the sidewalk, warmed by the afternoon sun.

“What’s going on here?”

Tears spilled down Lori Henson’s
cheeks, and her chin wobbled. She looked from Geoff to Heather and back again.
“This man has spent the last five minutes, harassing me.”

“It was two minutes,” Geoff said and
checked his thick leather-strapped watch.

“Why are you harassing Mrs. Henson,
Geoff?” Sheesh, everywhere Heather turned, Geoff Lawless cropped up to sour the
glaze. Last time, he’d hidden in a bush outside her suspect’s house.

“Wait one hot, glazed second. Are you
investigating, Lawless?” Heather asked.

He broke eye contact and stared at the
hotel door. “Nope.”

“Geoff,” Heather said, and lowered her
tone. “You’d better not be investigating.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Lawless!” Heather clapped her hands.

The bald, bearded dude took off. His
massive shoes thumped on the ‘crete, and he streaked past Amy and Dave. They
jumped out of his path and stared at him.

“There he goes again,” Amy said.
“You’ve got to give him points for style. Or lack thereof.”

Heather didn’t bother gazing after
Lawless. His quirks would’ve been funny at any other time, but now? Now, he’d
left her with a mess.

A crying witness wasn’t an easy
witness.

Heather reached out and touched Lori’s
forearm, gently. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” Lori replied, then burst into
tears again. “He said I did it. He said I did it for the money.”

“Please don’t take Geoff seriously.
He’s socially inept,” Heather said.

“And a terrible baker, FYI.” Amy
joined them and let Dave down to the sidewalk again. She held onto his leash,
but he didn’t break into a series of growls at Lori, this time. Maybe the tears
had unsettled him.

“I didn’t do anything. And I don’t
want Kyle’s money,” Lori said, caught between a whimper and a shriek.

“Please, you have to calm down, Mrs.
Henson,” Heather replied.

Lori grasped two handfuls of that
perfect hair and tugged. Amy winced.

“Don’t call me that,” Lori yelled. “I
filed for a divorce, do you hear me? He still didn’t sign the papers, even
though I asked him to. He was supposed to be my best friend, but he left me all
alone.”

“Lori, please, you have to calm down.”

“Every day and every night. He left me
alone, and when I told him I was unhappy, he didn’t talk to me. He just kept
doing the same things over and over. Practice, TV, sleep. Practice, TV, sleep.
I was nothing to him.” Lori took a break from the tirade. She gulped down air.
“And now I have everything of his. Just the money and no memories. I didn’t
want any of this to happen.”

Heather opened her mouth, then shut it
again. What could she say to that? She didn’t have words to console, Lori. She
didn’t have evidence that she’d killed her husband, either.

“Lori,” Heather said, softly. “If
there’s anything you can do to help me, any information you have to give now
would be –”

“Leticia Jackson,” Lori replied, then
dried her eyes with the corner of her blouse. “Talk to her. She was supposed to
co-judge the competition, but she knew Kyle from way back, just before he quit
at Hillside High.”

Heather nodded her head. “Thanks,
Lori.”

The younger woman turned and traipsed
back to the hotel, shoulders shaking.

Leticia Jackson strode across the
Hillside High field, head held high and back straight as a rod. She had her
pride; that much was clear.

Heather sat on one of the plastic
chairs, legs crossed and tote handbag on the seat beside hers. Amy had stayed
at the store to finish off a few orders with the rest of the gang.

Sunset hovered on the horizon, orange
and pink, the final goodbye before the purple of dusk embraced the sky above
Heather’s favorite town in the world. A town that’d seen too much pain in the
last few months.

Leticia reached the stands, and
Heather rose from her seat. She shook the woman’s hand, firmly, then gestured
to the plastic chair on her other side. “Care to have a seat?”

“Sure,” Leticia said, then sat down.
“What’s this about? You didn’t say much on the phone.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Heather
replied. “And thanks for meeting with me. I worried that if I told you the
reason for this, you’d back out.”

Leticia turned and stared at her. “Let
me guess. You want to talk about Kyle Henson.”

“How did you know?” Heather asked, and
drew her bag onto her lap.

Leticia glanced around the open space,
then back over her shoulder. She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Just a guess.
It’s been all anyone wants to talk about since his death. I get it. It’s really
sad.”

“I’m investigating the murder,”
Heather replied. “Just in my own capacity. It’s something I’ve made a habit out
of in the last few months. I try to solve the cases, bring clarity and justice
and… I have no idea why I’m telling you this.”

Leticia chuckled. “People tell me
their life stories all the time. It’s just a quality I bring out in them. I
guess, you’re no exception.”

Heather nodded once. She studied the
orange hue spreading across the field of green. The color caressed a few of the
targets, slid over their faces.

“Did Kyle ever tell you his life
story?”

Leticia exhaled through her mouth. She
laughed again, but this time, it wasn’t mirthful. “No, he didn’t have to. We
spent a lot of time together, growing up. I’m from Hillside too, you know.
Great grandfather was born here.”

“Awesome,” Heather said. “An Olympic
Gold medalist from Hillside? I couldn’t be more proud, right now.”

“Ah, the Olympics,” Leticia said. She
formed a fist and swished it to one side and up. “That’s where it all started.”

“What do you mean?”

Leticia pouted and made eyes at the
distant changing rooms. The sight of Kyle’s untimely murder. The crime scene.
She shut her eyelids, squeezed them until they wrinkled, then opened them
again.

“Leticia?”

“We were good friends, long ago. The
year that I qualified for Beijing was the year that Kyle dropped out of
national and international competitions.” Leticia hung her head back and stared
at the vision of dusk in Hillside’s future.

The fading light refracted on her
glossy, brown eyes.

“What happened?” Heather asked.

“Lori happened. She hated me,” Leticia
said. “And not just because she was threatened by our friendship. She hated me
because I encouraged Kyle to be the best at this sport. It was our shared
passion.” Leticia shook her head. “It was everything to him. And she took that
away.”

“How?” Heather asked, and her insides
squirmed. She hadn’t run into this many connected people in her investigations
before. Sure, boyfriends, girlfriends, siblings, and married folk, but this was
different.

It felt much deeper.

“She told him to drop out of trials.
And next thing I knew, he was coaching a high school team. Hillside High. Can
you believe it? No more competitions for Kyle,” Leticia said and clenched her
fists in her lap. “Instead, he started coaching that Jinx kid. Well, she’s not
a kid, anymore, but she was at the time.”

Leticia turned her head and stared
Heather in the eyes. “I lost my best friend because of Lori Summers. Can you
imagine what that’s like? Do you have a best friend?”

“I do,” Heather said and nodded. And
she couldn’t envision losing Amy. She’d never get over that.

“What happened then?” Heather asked.

Leticia inhaled, held it, then exhaled
again. Her gaze dropped to the darkened channel which led to the locker room.
“What I expected to happen.”

“What was that?”

“Kyle lost his passion for the sport.
He trained the girl, but he fell out of love with everything. He lost
motivation. Next thing I knew, he fired the kid and quit coaching altogether.
Left Hillside for good and moved up to Dallas. That’s what I hear.” Leticia
shook her head. “You should’ve seen him,” she said, eyes glinting at the
memory. “A bow in his hand? He was unstoppable. He would’ve won gold in his
division, no doubt. No doubt.”

Heather touched Leticia’s arm. The
woman jumped, then chuckled at herself.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Leticia. I
can’t imagine what this must be like for you.” And she didn’t want to.

“Thanks,” Leticia replied. She rose
from the seat and brushed off her summer skirt and shirt. “I don’t care if
you’re a detective or not, Heather, but I hope you find who did this. I hope
you bring them to justice.”

“That’s exactly what I aim to do,”
Heather replied.

She stood too, and they stared out
over the field for a few moments. Dusk descended, purple took the horizon, and,
bit-by-bit, the light faded from Leticia’s eyes.

Heather shook her hand again, then
walked down the field, toward the exit. She stopped at the gates and glanced
back.

Leticia stood in the stands, staring
at a distant target, unmoving.

“I’ll find the killer,” Heather
whispered, then turned and left the field behind.