Tragic Toppings (8 page)

She smiled broadly at me. “Just wait until you see it, Suzanne. It’s awesome.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” I had no idea what it looked like, but Emma’s excitement was payment enough. She’d be tough to replace when she went off to school someday, and if I could keep her happy and invested in the donut shop in the meantime, I’d do it.

Emma frowned, and then said, “I’m going crazy waiting for the paper to come out. I can’t wait for you to see it,” she said, and dug into her purse. “Here’s the proof for the ad my dad’s running for us today.”

She thrust a folded sheet of paper toward me, and I took it and studied it for a few moments. I really liked what I saw, and I had to admit that it had a real sense of fun about it, something we’d agreed we wanted to capture in the ad. There was an image of a donut and coffee cup holding hands, and their legs appeared to be dancing. Song notes hovered around them, and the ad copy said,
“Don’t be afraid to take a chance on Take-a-Chance Tuesdays, only at Donut Hearts in downtown April Springs. Try your luck, they’re only a buck!”
It may have been a little busy for my taste, but still, there was a whimsical charm about it that I liked.

Then my glance caught the fine print at the bottom of the ad.

Emma and I had discussed it before she got started on the design, and we’d agreed that there would have to be a limit of one per customer. After all, we were losing money selling a small cup of coffee and a donut for a dollar, but we hoped that most folks who came in would want more than one donut.

There was a problem, though. Instead of a limit of one per customer, someone had slipped up, and the limit was now eleven! We could actually sell out today and still lose money.

“Emma, did you check this before it went to your dad?” I asked as I handed it back to her.

She looked puzzled by my question. “Sure I did. It’s perfect, don’t you think?”

“You didn’t make any changes to it at all at the last minute?”

Emma frowned at me. “What’s wrong with it, Suzanne? You told me I could do whatever I want. We agreed on the general scope and conditions of the ad, but I got to design it myself.”

“Honestly, I love just about every bit of it,” I said.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Look at the bottom of the ad,” I said as I handed it back to her.

Emma looked puzzled, but after nearly a minute, she finally caught it. Her face was white as she said, “This is just the proof. I’m sure that Dad fixed it. He had to.”

“Did you tell him to make any changes to the proof?”

“No,” she admitted, and I could hear the tears coming up in her voice. “How did I miss this?”

I touched her shoulder lightly. “We may be worrying for nothing. Call him,” I said.

Emma nodded and took out her telephone. After a brief conversation, she hung up, looking as though she wanted to cry. It was clear she hadn’t gotten the answer she’d been hoping for. “He said he thought that was what we meant to do to drive in some foot traffic. Suzanne, this is a nightmare. What are we going to do?”

I thought about it, and then said, “Honestly, what can we do? Sure, it was a mistake, but mistakes happen all of the time. Trust me; I’ve made more than my share myself.” I saw her lower lip start to quiver, and I knew that I couldn’t deal with a crying employee at the moment. “Don’t worry, Emma. It will be fine, but I think we should be prepared for an onslaught, just in case. Let’s start making some extra donuts so we won’t be caught short.”

“My coffee blend is ready. Are you happy with the recipe you’ve been working on for today?” she asked.

“On second thought, I don’t think I’m going to take a chance on that one,” I said as I started scanning my recipe book. It not only had the recipes I used every day, but also contained ideas that I wanted to try someday when I got the chance. My gaze settled on a brightly colored confection I’d played with on paper but had never made, and I decided that it would be just right for Emma’s Thunder Coffee offering. “Today, I think we’ll make rainbow-iced orange cake donuts.”

“We’ve never done those before,” she said.

“No, but they should be pretty and festive, and I don’t need to do anything exotic to them except decorate them like rainbows.”

“That sounds great.” She paused, and then added, “Suzanne, I really am sorry about this.”

It was time to put what had happened behind us so we could focus on the work we had to do before we could open. “Nonsense, don’t worry about it. Come on, this could be fun.”

“Thanks for letting me off the hook,” she answered, the relief obvious in her voice.

“You know what? As far as I’m concerned, this might be a blessing in disguise. After all, the whole purpose of the ad was to drive folks into the store, and if this doesn’t do it, I don’t know what will. Let’s make it a good day, no matter what, okay?”

“That sounds great,” she said, and we dove into work.

*   *   *

“Is it always this crowded in here?” a new customer asked as he finally made his way to the counter so he could order. He was middle-aged, and from his girth, I was pretty sure he’d never passed up a free donut in his life, let alone eleven of them. If I had to guess, I would say that the dollar would just about cover our expenses for the exotic coffee blend, but I was afraid the donuts would be on the house. Emma had suggested switching to a less expensive coffee when we realized what had happened, but I wasn’t about to disappoint anyone if I could help it. I had to admit one thing. If the ad’s purpose had been to bring folks into Donut Hearts, it was a rousing success. I’d brought my recipe book up front so I could go over a new donut I’d been thinking about offering, but I hadn’t even had time to glance at it. The place had been hopping with customers since we’d opened, and for one of the few times since I’d owned the shop, I had a line before I even unlocked my door. We were moving a great deal of donuts and coffee, but I honestly didn’t have a clue where we stood financially. I had hoped that we wouldn’t lose too much, although as far as mistakes went, it could have been a great deal worse, and I wasn’t about to make any more donuts than we already had. When we were out, we were out, and there wouldn’t be any rain checks, which a few customers had already asked about.

I looked at the man who was clutching a dollar bill in his fist and said, “Are you kidding? This is a slow day.” I added the last bit on a whim, fighting to keep a straight face as I said it.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” he answered as he looked around.

Not a chair or stool was empty, and several folks were standing along the windows and the walls. I’d made one change to our offering; it was now dine-in only. At least that way we didn’t have to cater to every office within a hundred-mile radius. No one really seemed to mind once I explained what had happened, and it did make the shop a place full of laughter and smiles. Many of my customers kept their free eleven down to one or two extra, but a few insisted on the full dozen for the price of one. Those folks I made eat at the counter, and more than a few gave up after five or six. My rule became if they ordered, but couldn’t eat, the dozen donuts and drink all of the coffee, they had to pay for every extra they ate, so that took care of the rest of them.

I couldn’t let this customer think that I’d been telling the truth earlier. I explained, “I’m just kidding. This is Take-a-Chance Tuesday. We had Rainbow donuts, but we ran out of them hours ago. You can take your pick of what we have left. When we ran out of Thunder coffee, we switched to Harmony, and now we’re serving Star-shine. I’m afraid when that’s gone, it’s back to our regular blends.” Emma loved to give her coffees exotic names, and I liked that it added a little mystery to our selections on Tuesday.

“I’ll take one special, and you can pick out two donuts for me,” he said as he slid the dollar across the counter to me. Initially I’d been charging tax to push it over a dollar, but one high roller had come in and tipped me a fifty to cover everyone’s tax for the day. It was a sweet gesture, and I’d returned it with two dozen donuts, which he gladly accepted in return, laughing as he said that they could have only cost him a couple of bucks if he’d been a little hungrier.

I chose one lemon filled and a regular glazed donut, got his two coffees, and then handed him the tray. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks,” the stranger said. He grabbed one of his donuts before he even moved out of line, took his first bite of the lemon, and then smiled at me and said, “That is awesome! Who owns this place?”

“I do,” I admitted. “I’m Suzanne Hart.”

“Donut Hearts for Hart, I get it.” After another big bite, he asked, “Have you ever thought about selling this place? I’d give you a good and fair price for it; fryers, equipment, tables and chairs, recipes, display cases, everything. I’ll even buy the name from you.”

I looked around the shop, and realized that no matter how much he was offering, I knew I could never give up Donut Hearts, and what it had come to mean to me.

“Thanks, but no, thank you. This is home for me now.”

The stranger shrugged, and as he moved on, I called out, “Next.”

If nothing else, the newspaper misprint made for an exciting morning for us.

*   *   *

An hour later, Emily Hargraves came into the shop pushing a child’s stroller. I was about to ask her whose kid she was babysitting when I saw that she had Cow, Spots, and Moose safely buckled into the stroller together. All three of them were wearing sunglasses and brightly colored caps, and I had to admit, they looked rather dapper sitting there.

I couldn’t hide my grin when I saw them. “Taking the guys out for a walk?”

She nodded. “I felt that I owed them at least that after leaving them unprotected and unguarded yesterday.”

I laughed out loud. “You know, there are some folks in town who think you’ve lost your mind. I don’t mean me, but you know how people around here talk.”

Emily smiled broadly at me. “Are you kidding? Sometimes I think I’ve slipped over the edge myself, but I’m not about to apologize to anyone. It’s fun, and if they don’t get it, then they don’t get me.” She looked down at the stroller and asked, “Right, guys?”

I swear, for a split second, I waited for one of them to answer. Who did that make the craziest one of us? Emily looked at the cases behind me, now nearly empty, even with the double batch of donuts we’d made that morning.

“I’m sorry there aren’t many left,” I said. “It’s been a big day.”

“I heard about the misprint. How bad a hit are you going to take?” It wasn’t the first time I’d been asked that question, each time by another small-business owner. They knew, better than anyone else, how razor-thin profit margins could be when you owned your own place.

“I don’t even want to think about it yet,” I answered. “We’ll do a rough count when we close, which, judging by this display case, will be after the next few customers. I take it you want our day’s special.”

As I started to get her coffee, she shook her head and said, “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like one coffee, one donut, and one favor.”

I turned around and handed her the cup. “A favor?”

She lowered her voice and moved the stroller aside so she could get closer to me. “Suzanne, I need you to find out what happened to Uncle Tim.” There were tears in her eyes as she spoke, and her voice quivered a little.

“I’m not really qualified,” I answered. I’d been debating the same course of action no matter how many promises I made to myself to butt out, but as much as I wanted to walk away from the murder case, I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to do it.

“Come on. You’ve done it before, Suzanne. I know the police chief can follow up on all of the ordinary leads, but you’ve got a knack for looking at things from a different angle than he can.” She looked frustrated as she continued, “I can’t let this go unpunished, but I don’t know what to do. Please don’t say no to me.” She reached into the stroller, and for a second I thought she was going to pull Spots out, but instead, she grabbed an envelope she’d stored there. “He’s my watch cow,” she explained as she nudged Spots back into his position. Emily held the envelope for a moment, and then slid it across the counter to me. “Take it.”

I did as she asked, opened it, and found it was stuffed with twenties, tens, and fives.

I waved the envelope at her and asked, “What is this for?”

“I’m willing to pay you for your help,” she said. “It’s that important to me.”

I pushed the envelope back into her hands. “You know that I can’t take your money.”

She looked forlorn. “Does that mean you won’t help? I don’t know where else to turn.” She hesitated a moment, and then asked, “It’s because of Max, isn’t it? That’s over, I promise you.”

There. It was finally out in the open, and now we could deal with it. “Emily, you don’t have to explain to me how impulsive Max can make you feel; I know better than most. Trust me, you don’t owe me any explanations.”

“Then why won’t you help?”

“I’ll do what I can,” I said as I patted her hand. “But I won’t take a dime of your money. Friends don’t do that. I can’t promise you anything concrete, but I’ll do my best.”

The relief on her face was obvious. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

I wasn’t sure just how much I’d be able to accomplish, but if I could give Emily some peace of mind by trying to help her, I wasn’t about to deny her that.

She started to go when I said, “Hang on a second. You’ve still got a donut coming to you.”

“Thanks, but just the coffee is fine.”

The next two customers took care of the last bit of inventory I had left, and it was barely past ten-thirty. It looked like Donut Hearts was about to set a new record, not for actual sales, but for depleting our inventory in amazing time.

“It’s closing time,” I announced to the customers remaining in the shop. “Thank you all for coming.”

“But you’ve got another hour and a half to stay open,” Maggie Brentwood said as she looked at the hours posted on my door.

“We would, but there’s just one problem. There’s nothing left to sell,” I replied. “The donuts are gone, and the coffee’s nearly had it, too. I hope you all enjoyed your donuts and coffee today.”