Vanilla Vices (16 page)

“It’s my shirt, but that’s not me in the picture,” he said, frowning.

“Come on, Benny. That’s a little hard to believe, don’t you think? Are you saying that someone broke into your place, stole your shirt, and then had a photo taken with Dan before they brought it back?”

“No, of course not. It’s just that I only got that shirt last week.”

“Where did you get it?”

Benny frowned for a moment before he answered. “Suzanne, I can’t afford nice new clothes like you wear all of the time,” he said. I didn’t know what he was talking about. While my wardrobe was serviceable, I wasn’t sure that anyone would call it particularly nice. He continued, “I shop at Goodwill for just about all of my clothes. That’s where I bought the shirt, but I haven’t had it long. I’ve got the receipt to prove it.”

“Are you telling me that it lists this shirt specifically?” I asked him.

“Well, no, of course not, but it has a shirt on it, and that’s the one I bought there. Who do you think it belonged to at first?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” I said. “Does the scenery look familiar to you?”

“All the trees look pretty much all the same to me,” he replied.

“Okay. Thanks.”

“You’ll remember about my things? They should all be up in the front, unless somebody’s moved something. I’ll help you track them all down if you give me a call.”

“I might have to,” I said. “Dan wasn’t the most organized person in the world, at least not in his shop.”

“Don’t let the cluttered look of the place fool you. There was method to his madness, and Dan knew where everything he had in his shop was. The man might not have been big on writing things down, but he kept it all up here,” Benny said as he tapped his temple. “Well, not up here in my head, but in his.”

“Got it.”

“Okay,” Benny said, obviously relieved that he’d found me and had presented his receipt. I should have just given him the money and told him that he and the estate were even, but I knew the man was eager to get his purchases.

As he walked away, I could swear I heard him mumbling to himself, but I had no idea what he might be saying. Whatever his internal conversation was about, he seemed happy with the outcome.

As I walked back to my Jeep, I glanced at my watch and realized that Grace had at least another thirty minutes before she’d told me that she’d be back, and without her by my side, I felt a little naked investigating on my own. We worked on the buddy system, and we rarely broke it. Grace and I were both fearful that we’d run into a killer one day without the other one being nearby. It might not save us being together, but at least we’d die together, no small consolation. In the meantime, I had to find something productive to do about the case, or I knew that I’d end up visiting the donut shop, something that I’d promised everyone involved that I would not do until our little experiment was over.

Chapter 18

D
espite my best intentions, I
found myself driving in the direction of Donut Hearts anyway. I knew that I could go home and wait for Grace there, but the truth of the matter was that I didn’t feel like being alone. That left me with an obvious solution. It was halfway between breakfast and lunch, and the parking lot of the Boxcar Grill was nearly empty. That didn’t mean that there were no customers inside, though, and even if the place was empty, I knew that Trish would probably be there. The state of the parking lot didn’t really surprise me, since I knew that most folks liked to walk there and leave their cars behind. That was one of the quaint touches that living in a small town offered, and I loved the days when I walked to work, walked to the grocery store, and then walked back home through the park, all without setting foot in a motor vehicle. Not that I’d be doing that again anytime soon. The smell of snow in the air grew stronger by the hour, and I had a hunch that before nightfall, we’d be getting our first snowfall of the season. I’d be back at Donut Hearts tomorrow, and I’d find a way to make it in, even if the snow reached the rooftops. I’d done it before, and I would do it again. The town depended on finding my place open. At the very least, I had two hungry snowplow operators to feed who were my best customers when the white stuff was coming down. Maybe I’d put my hot-chocolate donuts back on the menu in honor of the cold weather. They were a seasonal favorite of several customers, and the truth was that I enjoyed making them. We’d also bring out the coffee urn we reserved for our special blend of hot chocolate, too. All in all, it would be a festive morning tomorrow, despite dealing with Dan’s murder. Life had to go on, and Grace and I were running out of time. If we didn’t find the killer soon, I had a hunch that we never would. What they said on TV was true: the sooner a murderer was unmasked, the better.

When I walked into the diner, Trish was sitting by the door, working on a crossword puzzle. “Hey there. Do you have room for one more?”

“We have enough chairs and tables for a football team,” she said, “but don’t bring them even if you find one. I kind of like these lulls. Can I get you something?”

“How about some coffee?” I asked as I looked around.

There was a couple sharing a single table in back, which was not that unusual in and of itself, but the identities of the diners threw me off for a second.

It appeared that my friend and our mayor, George Morris, was sharing an intimate meal with my mother, of all people!

“What’s going on, you two? Is this a private party, or can anyone join in?”

Momma looked up, startled to see me. Was something going on here after all? “Suzanne, I thought you’d be out sleuthing.”

“I’m taking a little break. I can’t believe that I caught you both here together. George, really? My own mother?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Suzanne,” the mayor said with a grin. “I’m having a problem with Harley Boggess. The man is driving me crazy, using the town council as some kind of weapon aimed directly at me.”

“Harley is going to run for mayor this year, and he’s trying to smear poor George to narrow the field,” Momma said, patting the mayor’s hand. From anyone else, it might have seemed a little condescending, but that was just the way my mother was. “We’re not going to let him get away with it, are we, George?”

“No, ma’am,” he said. George was the mayor, as well as being a former cop who had faced his share of bad guys in the past, but there was something about my mother that had always intimidated him. Shoot, I knew her better than anyone else in the world, including her husband, and she still managed to cow me on occasion. Harley Boggess didn’t stand a chance.

“Carry on then,” I said.

“You’re welcome to join us,” George said. “We’ve just about wrapped up this particular strategy session.”

“Are you sure? I’m kind of at loose ends at the moment, so that would be great.”

“Poor Suzanne. Everyone’s deserted her, and she can’t go to the one place she’s most comfortable in all of the world, banished from her own donut shop,” Momma said with a grin.

“My, you’re in a good mood.”

“Putting someone in their proper place does it to me every time,” she said as she smiled and stood. “Mayor, if you’ll forgive me, I really must run.”

“Hey, what about me?” I asked. “Aren’t you going to excuse yourself to me, too?”

She leaned forward and kissed my forehead, something I didn’t think I’d ever grow too big to receive. I loved my mother dearly, no matter how much she vexed me at times, and what’s more, I knew without a doubt that she loved me just as much. “Good-bye, dear child.”

“Bye, dear mother,” I said with a grin.

She tried to contain her laugh, but she failed miserably. Since my mother had married the retired chief of police Phillip Martin, she had become reenergized with life, something I loved seeing. As much as I hated to attribute the change to my former nemesis, there was no denying his positive influence on my mother, and slowly, I’d warmed to him because of what he gave my mother, something that I frankly never thought would happen in my lifetime.

“So, now it’s just the two of us,” I said as I turned to George once Momma was gone.

“I’m really sorry, but I have to bail out on you, too,” the mayor said as he stood. “If I’m one minute late for a meeting, Harley pretends the world is about to end. See you around.”

Trish was bringing me my cup of coffee when she pretended to be surprised that I was alone, an odd thing to do given the fact that she’d rung up both George and my mother on her register less than a minute earlier. “Wow, you really know how to clear out a diner,” she said as she put the coffee down in front of me. “Remind me not to invite you to my Thanksgiving feast here.”

“You’re having a Thanksgiving feast?” I asked her.

“No, not me. You must be hearing things,” Trish said with a grin. She’d set the trap, and I’d walked right into it. I had to join her in her smile. After all, it had been elegantly done, even if it had been at my good-natured expense. “I’ll be happy to join you, if you’re not picky.”

“I think I can lower my bar that far,” I said, laughing.

“That’s a relief. I know it’s too early for lunch, but how about some pie?”

“Doesn’t the same logic exist for dessert as it does for the meal?” I asked her.

“That depends. Do you want some pie or not?”

“Pie. Always pie.”

“That’s my girl. I’ll even join you,” she said. “There’s a new crumb-topped apple we’re making that will knock your socks off.”

“I’m ready to try it, but I should warn you. My mother’s pies are legendary.”

“Where do you think we got the recipe?” she asked, smiling.

If it was even an eighth as good as my mother’s, I knew that I was in for a treat.

Grace came in and grinned when she saw that Trish and I were eating pie a little later. “Sorry I’m late.”

I glanced at my watch. “As a matter of fact, you’re right on time.”

As she took her jacket off, she said, “Clearly that’s wrong, because I didn’t make it back here in time for pie.”

“We can remedy that,” Trish said as she finished her piece and stood. “Is apple okay with you?”

“It sounds delightful,” she said.

After Grace sat down, she asked, “So, what did I miss, besides the pie?”

When I was finished bringing her up to speed on what I’d learned that morning, her pie arrived, and in short order, both of our plates were empty.

She smiled broadly as she said, “That was delicious. I just have one question.”

“What’s that?” I asked, expecting it to be about the case.

“Is it too soon for lunch?”

“We both just had pie,” I protested.

“Are you saying that you couldn’t eat a burger if Trish brought you one?” she asked me.

Now that she mentioned it, I did still have a little room. “Why not? That way we won’t have to interrupt our sleuthing to eat again anytime soon.”

After we placed our lunch requests with Trish, who heartily approved of our dining order, Grace said, “You’ve been a busy little bee in my absence, haven’t you?”

“What can I say? When it rains, it pours.”

“I don’t know about rain, but according to the forecast, we’re about to get socked with a bunch of snow.”

“Bring it on,” I said. “I’m ready for it.”

“So you say now, but let’s see how you feel as you’re trudging to the donut shop in the morning with it up to your waist.”

“Are we seriously supposed to get that much?” I asked. I hadn’t heard a forecast all day myself, and it sounded as though it was going to be in epic proportions.

“Okay, technically they are only predicting four to five inches, but you know how folks around here react to a heavy frost. I have a feeling that our men are going to be busy tonight.”

“Maybe we should have a sleepover, then,” I suggested. “We can make hot chocolate, have a fire, roast marshmallows, and tell ghost stories.”

“If by hot chocolate you mean wine, then I’m all in.”

I laughed. “You bring wine for yourself. I’m having the cocoa.”

“Okay, in an effort to get into the spirit of things, that’s what I’ll have as well.”

Our food came, and to my surprise, I was able to clean my plate, despite having polished off a generous piece of pie earlier. I sighed with contentment, and Grace matched it. “That was superb,” I said. “We should have dessert first at every meal, including breakfast.”

“Right now I’m having a hard time disagreeing with you. The real question is, what should we do until it’s time for us to eat again?” she asked.

I didn’t have a chance to answer when Inspector Karina Black walked in, scanned the dining room, and then came walking toward our table. Something told me that she wasn’t there to share a piece of pie or even congratulate me on my sleuthing skills, but whatever she had to say, I was ready for her. After all, I had a belly full of pie and other good food and my best friend and detecting partner by my side. How bad could it be, anyway?