Maple Frosted Murder (Donut Hole 2) Read Free Page A

went
out into the kitchen.  Grabbing a coffee pot, she headed into the dining room
to refill customers’ cups.
     
    Only
two customers needed more coffee.  When she came to Eva’s regular table by the
window, Eva put a hand over her coffee cup and said, “Do you have a moment to
sit down?”
    She
sat down across from her favorite customer, a tiny, sweet-faced German woman
with the most beautiful silver hair Heather had ever seen.  Eva smiled at her. 
“How are you today?” she asked.
     
    Heather
shrugged.  “Okay.  Can’t complain.”
     
    “I
heard about what happened yesterday,” Eva said, taking a sip of her coffee.
     
    “You
mean when Stan came in here?”
     
    “Was
there something else?”
     
    “Stan
was murdered last night,” she said.
     
    “Oh,
good heavens,” Eva muttered.  “That’s terrible.”
     
    “Someone
conked him over the head and shoved him into his deep freeze.”
     
    Eva
grimaced and waited for her to continue.
     
    She
leaned toward Eva and spoke in a whisper.  “And the police think I might have
killed him.”
     
    Eva
gasped.  “Surely not!”
     
    “Well,
Detective Shepherd says he doesn’t really think I did it.  But he still has to
investigate me.  And the problem is that I was home by myself yesterday,
stewing about Stan.  I have no alibi.”  She spread her hands wide in a helpless
gesture.
     
    “Is
Detective Shepherd that handsome officer who keeps coming in here?” Eva asked.
     
    “Well,
yes.  He is.”
     
    “Hmm.” 
Eva paused, thinking.  “And he doesn’t think you did it.”
     
    “Right.”
     
    “So
you have nothing to worry about.”  Eva reached across the table and patted her
hand.  “Of course he has to investigate you.  He has to investigate everyone
the victim came in contact with during the last 24 hours.”  Eva raised her
napkin to her lips and delicately blotted them.  “I know these things.  I watch
CSI.”
     
    Visions
of the elderly widow sitting in a small apartment watching the crime scene show
made Heather grin.  “I suppose you’re right,” she said.
     
    “I
know I’m right,” Evan said confidently.  “He would be remiss in his duty if he
didn’t ask you what you were doing last night.  Especially after you had that
big argument right here in front of all your customers.”
     
    Heather
chose not to correct Eva’s use of the word ‘argument.’  “You always have a way
of making me feel better,” she said.  “Thanks for that.”
    “You’re
welcome,” Eva said. 
     
    But
as Heather was walking back toward the kitchen to start work on a batch of
Strawberry Shortcake donuts, her mind was whirling in a new direction. 
     
    If
I didn’t kill him—and I didn’t!—then who did?
     

Chapter 3
     
    Heather
tucked her chin into the collar of her coat and darted across the parking lot
toward the automatic doors.  Once inside, she shivered, quickly extricated a
shopping cart from the long line of carts, and pushed her cart further into the
store, toward the bakery.
     
    She
always felt awkward buying items from the bakery section.  After all, she owned
a donut shop.  Shouldn’t she be able to bake things?
     
    But
donuts were a whole different ballgame from, in this case, pies.  She needed a
pie to take to the Hillside Council for the Fine Arts Christmas party tonight. 
And she definitely didn’t want to take a pie that looked like the last one
she’d tried to make herself.
     
    Unfortunately,
her grandmother’s talent for all things baked hadn’t been passed down to her. 
The only bakery item she could create to be consistently scrumptious was
donuts.  Oh, well.  At least she’d inherited enough of MaMaw’s abilities to be
able to open her own shop and make a living.
     
    The
first notes of “Here Comes the Sun” floated up from her purse.  She grabbed her
phone, saw Amy’s number, and accepted the call.  “Hello?”
     
    “Girl! 
What do you mean the police suspect you?