Sour Crime Donuts, page 25
Glenn more or less confirmed my theory. “That has nothing to do with anything. Go, Hope.”
She didn’t budge.
I argued, “It has everything to do with everything, Glenn, if you became resentful about being fired and needing to hunt for another job or find funds to start another restaurant. Besides, you were fired for disobeying your employment agreement and serving almonds in one of Adam’s restaurants. You either knew or figured out that Adam was allergic to almonds. Maybe you knew that Adam was fond of donuts. You sent Hope to buy donuts that you could copy, with added almonds. But she ran into a colleague in Deputy Donut and talked him out of the donuts he bought.”
She glared at me. “I did not.”
I backtracked, but only a little. “Glenn somehow got a box with some of those donuts, and he’s an expert. All he had to do was taste our donuts, and he was able to copy them, but with a few changes that were toxic to Adam, like using almond flour instead of wheat flour. And then to add insult to injury, he used my coffee grinder to pulverize the kernels from inside peach pits, which can be poisonous, and added the ground-up peach pits to his replica donuts. He made mistakes, though. He didn’t throw out the grinder. It’s outside, where the police can collect it and analyze what’s still inside it. Glenn also put cardamom in the donuts, which we hadn’t done. My cat discovered the leftover donuts on the property Izzy was buying and became interested. My cat doesn’t notice baked goods unless they have cardamom in them, and then she becomes obsessed. And Glenn took Adam’s adrenaline autoinjector before Adam could save himself with it, but that autoinjector was later retrieved.”
Glenn gave Hope another push. “That is all ridiculous speculation. And impossible. Who believes in a cardamom-sniffing cat or that a random autoinjector can be traced to anyone? Go get in the car, Hope, my car, not the one you’re renting. She’s making things up, blaming the innocent to cover up her own crime of selling poisoned donuts.”
So . . . hoping to implicate his landlady—me—Glenn left the donuts and the Deputy Donut box where investigators would find them.
Hope reached for the screen door.
I didn’t like the woman, but she was one of Izzy’s few relatives, and I couldn’t let her leave with a man who had murdered once and had also attempted to murder Izzy and Hope. “Wait, Hope. Do not get into Glenn’s car. He had another motive for killing Adam in addition to revenge for having to start over with a new restaurant. Glenn killed Adam on property that Izzy was buying, and it was known that Adam was trying to prevent Izzy from purchasing that property. Glenn hoped that Izzy would be convicted of murdering Adam, and then your grandfather would certainly not change his will in her favor. But to make certain that Izzy would inherit nothing, Glenn shoved Izzy unconscious into a pond tonight. After you signed a will making Glenn your heir, how long did you expect to live?”
Hope glanced back at Glenn and repeated, “He wouldn’t do that.” This time, she sounded less sure. She pushed the screen door open and ran out onto the dark porch. Hearing her bare feet on the wooden steps, I could almost feel splinters piercing the soles of my own feet.
I wasn’t surprised that Glenn didn’t follow his wife. He stood blocking the front door. I took a couple of steps backward. Behind me, I heard Olivia and Jocelyn also retreating, slowly.
With the beginnings of a sneer twitching at his lips, Glenn moved forward. His pant legs and shoes were now in the light from the lamp I’d turned on, and I was almost certain from my quick glance at them that they were speckled with dried mud.
But I couldn’t waste crucial moments examining his pant legs and shoes.
With one hand, he brushed aside the front edge of his blazer.
He yanked his undoubtedly sharp chef’s knife out of its scabbard.
Chapter 40
I whispered over my shoulder to Olivia and Jocelyn, “Run!”
Squinting with menace, Glenn stepped toward me. My first thought was that he wouldn’t risk damaging his carefully coddled knife by stabbing one of us or throwing it, but then I realized that Glenn was desperate. He had to silence all of us if he wanted to escape charges of murder and attempted murder. Plus, he might have already dulled that knife by slashing Izzy’s seat belt.
I decided to brazen it out. “Hurting us won’t help your case, Glenn. The police already have evidence against you. Don’t make it worse for yourself.”
Someone, either Olivia or Jocelyn, plucked at the back of my dress. I muttered, “Get out!”
Glenn raised the hand holding the knife.
I grabbed the nearest heavy object, the tall table lamp I’d lit when I ran into the room. My grandmother had been proud of the lamp’s classic, solid brass base. It was, she’d claimed, a lamp that even she couldn’t knock over. Grasping it near the top just beneath the shade, I yanked it off the table. The lamp was old, and the electrical wire leading into it must have weakened over time. The connection broke and cast the living room again into semi-darkness. Swinging that lamp as if it were a baseball bat, I was barely aware of footsteps in the dining room. Olivia and Jocelyn were supposed to be running away, but they seemed to be coming nearer. And the shoes sounded more substantial than Jocelyn’s sneakers and Olivia’s sandals.
I couldn’t take time to think about who might be behind me. Focusing on saving us from Glenn’s knife, I let go of that lamp, aiming its heavy base at the hand holding the knife.
There are good reasons why baseball bats don’t have lampshades attached to their handles.
Acting as a sail, the shade altered the lamp’s projection, and it missed Glenn’s throwing arm. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the knife fly out of his hand.
The lamp’s base hit Glenn in the forehead, just above his nose.
The lamp and Glen thudded onto the floor. Delicate lightbulb glass tinkled over pine planks.
Calling, “Jocelyn, Olivia, are you all right?” I ran to Glenn, all of about four steps.
Jocelyn answered, “We’re fine.” But maybe she was losing her usual equilibrium. I could have sworn that I heard laughter in her voice.
Brent and Tyler ran in from the dining room and placed themselves between Glenn and me. I backed toward Olivia and Jocelyn, but only a little. All three of us stayed in the living room, close to the table that was now missing its lamp.
Vic let himself in through the front door. He knelt beside Glenn and picked up his wrist. “Unconscious. Strong pulse. I saw and heard enough to arrest him. Cuffs, please, Officer Tainwright.” Vic pulled Glenn’s hands behind his back and snapped on the handcuffs that Tyler gave him.
His eyes glinting with something like amusement, Tyler came to Olivia and patted her shoulder. “Maybe you should take that out of your waistband before someone gets hurt.”
With a rueful grin, Olivia reached toward her back.
Tyler stopped her with a touch on her wrist. “Wait. I’ll help. Stand still.”
Seconds later, after a little lifting of her blouse in back and a lot of blushing, he set my bread knife on the table where the lamp had been. “Are you okay, Olivia? Did I scratch you?”
“I’m fine. If there are scrapes, it’s my fault. Thanks for getting it out without scratching me more.”
I stared at her. “You brought that up from the basement and kept it hidden from Glenn?”
“I thought it might come in handy. I wasn’t going to use it unless I had to, and when I needed it, the serrations got caught in my waistband. Not that it would have done any good against that man’s knife.” She looked down at my grandmother’s ruby-red velvet couch. “I suspect your bread knife did less damage to me and my jeans than that man’s knife did to your couch.”
Glenn’s prized chef’s knife was up to its hilt in a white linen napkin, pinning the napkin to the red velvet upholstery.
I shrugged. “I guess it’s time for some reupholstering. That is, if we want to continue decorating with my grandmother’s furniture.” And if we wanted to continue owning this house . . .
From his kneeling position, Brent looked up at us. “I’m afraid I have to cancel my earlier offer to let you three go home. We’ll need to talk to you while Tyler and Misty escort this man to the hospital to be examined before we take him in for questioning.”
I agreed and then turned to Tyler. “Where’s Misty?”
He nodded toward the front window. “Out on the lawn trying to calm a hysterical person.”
I said, “We called an ambulance for the woman. I hope that’s the siren I hear.”
Brent stood. “Emily, Jocelyn, and Olivia, please go out back to the patio. Don’t discuss this with one another, and we’ll question you as soon as we can.”
I asked him, “May we take water to drink? Tap water. I don’t want anything that man might have touched, except glasses.”
“Go ahead,” Brent said, but he was watching Glenn and was obviously distracted by Glenn’s signs of regaining consciousness.
Tyler, however, was gazing at Olivia. “Bread knife,” he murmured.
Her face reddened again. “You’re not going to let me live that down, are you, Tyler?”
His eyes warm, he smiled down at her upturned face. “Never.”
Ah, romance, I thought.
Olivia, Jocelyn, and I trooped into the kitchen, ran tap water into glasses, and took them outside, past the dirty dishes and the extinguished candle on its delicate china saucer.
We sat at the patio table and sipped our water. We didn’t talk much, partly because we obeyed Brent and didn’t discuss the case, but mostly because we were tired. And I, for one, was silently going over the evening, thinking of what I would say to whichever officer questioned me. Vic, probably, I thought with a sigh.
And I was right. I told him everything that we hadn’t discussed earlier, beginning with the dinner party and finding the portfolio of papers. I showed him the coffee grinder still partially hidden by the hose, the snuffed candle, and the wax-splattered documents that Glenn had tried to burn. “He’d set the candle and papers on a slant. Olivia has a video of it. I guess Glenn planned that the melted wax would drip away and not form a pool that could drown the flame. But he had other documents besides these in his portfolio. His marriage certificate and his and Hope’s wills are probably in his car.”
Brent questioned Olivia, and Misty returned from the hospital and took Jocelyn’s statement.
Finally, we were free to go. I asked Misty how Hope was. “She’s being stitched up. She admitted that she lied about being with Glenn the entire afternoon and evening that Adam died, and that Glenn sent her out for donuts and instead of buying them, she cajoled—my word, not hers—some, including their box, from Landon. She didn’t know that Glenn baked copycat donuts. She informed me that she never went near kitchens. She also denied that she had anything to do with Adam’s actual eating of the donuts. Glenn went out for over an hour that afternoon, she thought, while she stayed home catching up with email from work. She said we couldn’t arrest her because her grandfather would be angry, and she even turned on some tears.” Misty could wear a very hard expression. “I basically told her that my heart was bleeding for her. She said she had nothing to do with the attack on Izzy. Somehow, she had the impression that Izzy had died tonight.” Being one of my best friends did not stop Misty from glaring at me. She added, “I told her that Izzy was expected to live. Hope didn’t seem as relieved as a normal person would be when told that a cousin had narrowly escaped death.”
“I hope she’s nowhere near Izzy in that hospital.”
“She won’t be. We’ve called in other officers. One will escort Hope from the hospital to one of our interrogation rooms.”
“What about Glenn?”
“He’s fine, except for a rather large goose egg on his forehead that he says you caused.”
“Self-defense.”
“Well done, too.”
“I was trying to hit the hand holding the knife, but I missed, and the heaviest part of the lamp hit him in the face instead.”
“I saw where the knife ended up. You might have ruined his aim, but he’s strong, probably strong enough to subdue a man and force-feed him something, like tailor-made donuts. He threw that knife with plenty of force, and he could have damaged you severely. He’s already in a cell and will probably remain in one for a very long time.”
Before I left, through the garage, Brent caught me in a bear hug. “I probably won’t be home until after you leave for work.”
“Am I in trouble for assaulting Glenn?”
He shook his head. “Vic, Tyler, and I saw the tail end of the encounter. You were defending yourself and Olivia and Jocelyn. I’m sorry we didn’t get there sooner.” Holding me tighter, he sighed into my hair before he let me go. “You’d better get some sleep, if you can.”
“And poor Dep has been alone since six thirty. She’s going to sulk.”
I took Jocelyn and Olivia to their homes, and then, eyes tired and dry but open, I drove back to Dep. She was on the couch where she’d been when I left. She didn’t sulk. I picked her up. “You didn’t miss me, did you? I bet you slept the entire time I was gone.” She purred. I told her, “I’m glad you weren’t with me.”
“Mew.”
I took her upstairs, cleaned and rebandaged my feet, and fell into bed.
Chapter 41
Brent wasn’t awake yet when I groggily got up. I grabbed a quick breakfast and put my surprisingly cooperative cat into her carrier in my car. In cozy socks and sneakers, my feet barely hurt.
At work, Jocelyn and Olivia were already telling Tom about the night before.
He plopped a ball of risen dough onto our marble counter. “I’m glad you all survived.”
“Piece of cake,” Jocelyn told him. “Emily knocked him down with a lamp, and Olivia armed herself with a bread knife. But then she found a handsome police officer disarming.”
Still feeling punchy, I giggled.
Olivia’s fake glower dissolved into a smile.
Tom flattened the dough with an open palm. “And what did you do, Jocelyn, a forward roll right over him?”
“I covered my eyes and squeaked.”
Tom forced a marble rolling pin across the dough. “I somehow can’t see that.”
Jocelyn picked up a tray of sugar bowls and creamers. “Emily acted faster than I could.”
I confessed, “I was in her way.”
Our customers didn’t seem to notice that Olivia and I were perhaps red-eyed and a little tired. Jocelyn, however, was her usual energetic self.
Olivia seemed to be watching the front door until I casually mentioned that Misty and Tyler were probably busy all morning, and since they finished the night shift at noon, they probably wouldn’t come in for breaks that day.
Olivia blushed. “I know. And anyway, I’m meeting him for a late picnic dinner in the square before he heads back to work tonight.”
“Are you bringing the picnic?”
“We’ll have takeout from Frisky Pomegranate.”
Jocelyn came along with pots of coffee for the Knitpickers and the retired men. She elbowed Olivia. “I’ll try not to budge into your date this time.”
“It’s not exactly a date.”
Heading back to the kitchen for plates of donuts, I said over my shoulder, “Call it whatever you want.”
I took a short lunch break in our office with Dep, a plate of chickpea salad, some battered and deep-fried red and green peppers, and a bracing cup of the day’s special aromatic and flavorful Kona coffee from Hawaii. I called the hospital and asked to speak to Izzy Korinth.
A woman told me, “We don’t have anyone here by that name.”
“Sorry, her full name is Isabella Korinth.”
There was a pause, and then a tentative-sounding reply. “Can’t help you.”
Had Izzy been discharged, or was the operator following protocol about not giving out information about patients?
Although Izzy’s phone had gone dead during the crash the night before and could have been irreparably damaged, I tried her number. It went straight to message. Hoping she would soon obtain a replacement phone, I said, “Hi, Izzy. I’m wondering how you are. Give me a call when you can.”
At home that evening, Brent confirmed that Izzy was out of the hospital. “She’s staying with her lawyer friends and recuperating, which probably includes getting a new phone and weeding the sisters’ garden.”
“Where’s Glenn?”
“Off our hands. He’s been transferred to the county jail. There should be a bail hearing tomorrow, but I don’t expect him to get bail.”
“How about Hope?”
“We probably can’t make charges against her that will stick. She’s back in New York or on the way. She hired someone to take her directly from our office all the way to Duluth International.”
“She didn’t drive herself in the car she rented?”
“She didn’t want to wait until we released it. Both that car and the one Glenn rented will be returned to the agency after forensics finishes going through them. We did give her the gold necklace we found in the car he was driving. And we made copies of their marriage certificate and wills for evidence and gave her the originals.”
“Where’s Landon?”
“I don’t have to keep tabs on him, but I believe he hasn’t checked out of the B and B in Gooseleg where he’s been staying since he drove down from Duluth.”
I tried calling Izzy again.
No answer. I left her another message.
Brent reminded me, “Maybe she needs more time to heal, not only physically, but emotionally.”
I agreed glumly. “Will you be talking to her soon?”
“Eventually, before Glenn’s trial. We took her statement, what little she remembered, and she knows to contact us if she remembers anything else.”
“It’s sad, getting to know her again after all those years, and then losing her again.”
Brent rubbed my back. “I know.”
I flung my arms around him. “You’re the best.”
