Sour Crime Donuts, page 7
I arranged the quartered grape tomatoes on our salads. “They should definitely find my fingerprints on that box.”
“Maybe we’ll find someone else’s also, and that person can tell us if they saw Adam there and whether or not he appeared to be struggling with a health issue. Or if his car was beside the road when they were there. Or if they noticed anything unusual in the vicinity. It’s a long shot. Izzy said she bought six donuts from you today, and four of them were your new peachy sour cream donuts. Can you remember anyone else who bought those donuts today that you put into boxes that size? Plus any donuts with chocolate or fudge frosting that would account for the smears that were inside that box?”
“Jerry Creavus also bought a half dozen donuts, and some of them were like the ones still in that box you took as evidence, and some had chocolate or fudge frosting. Adam is, I mean was, running against Jerry for mayor, and Jerry was loudly opposed, at least when he was in Deputy Donut, to Adam’s plans for a resort. Jerry claimed to favor Izzy’s project.”
“I’ll talk to him. Anyone else?”
“The woman who heads Toward Wisconsin in Green, TWIG, bought a half dozen donuts, and some of them were also like the ones in the box I found, and at least one of them was frosted with chocolate or fudge. Izzy called the woman Ramona. Apparently TWIG wanted that property for a park. Ramona threatened Izzy with dire consequences if Izzy cuts down even one tree.”
Writing in his notebook, Brent whistled. “That must have gone over well with your feisty young friend.”
“She takes it in her stride.”
“And you’re sure that Adam Nofftry didn’t buy a box containing some of your newest donuts today?”
“Not unless he came in during my lunch hour or when I was in the storeroom. Tom, Olivia, or Jocelyn might know. Possibly, one of those other people I mentioned gave Adam a box of donuts.”
“Any guesses which of those people might have done that?”
I drizzled the rest of the dressing over our salads. “Not Izzy. She didn’t like him. Maybe Jerry. A politician might do things that other people wouldn’t do, like give donuts to his opponent. Landon, the mystery man, didn’t seem to have known Adam before Adam started yelling at him to get off the property yesterday. And Ramona, the TWIG lady, probably didn’t like Adam, either, or she wouldn’t if he had managed to buy that property and cut down a tree or two. She seems too grouchy to be going around handing out sweets to people she doesn’t like.”
“So, we have Izzy and Jerry, who had problems with Adam, and Landon who might not have known Adam well but might have been annoyed by Adam’s yelling at him, and Ramona the environmentalist, who probably wanted to prevent Adam from opening a resort in the area if it meant cutting down trees, but wouldn’t give him one donut, let alone a half dozen.”
I placed the wedges of hard-boiled egg around the edges of the salads. “And Ramona is only one member of TWIG. The others probably also oppose resorts and developments. Plus, there are probably lots of other people who disliked Adam, and anyone could have been visiting that property, with or without donuts. From what I saw of Adam, he was a bully.”
Brent set down his notebook and then, sure that I wasn’t pregnant, he poured each of us a glass of dry rosé. We toasted each other, and then he went back to his questions. “Did you tell Izzy the license number of the car Landon was driving?”
“I didn’t get a close look at it, so I don’t know what it was.”
“Could she have memorized it yesterday?”
“She could have. She and Jocelyn ran down that trail before Olivia and I did. The sun was reflecting off the car, and all I noticed was that the plates were from Minnesota and that the car looked like a rental. Jocelyn and Olivia didn’t memorize the plate number. Landon had said that he ‘came from Duluth.’ However, Olivia thought that Landon’s accent was more northeastern US than Minnesotan. The woman who resembled Izzy’s cousin Hope might have had a New York accent, so maybe Landon is actually from New York.”
Brent pocketed his notebook and pen. “I’ll have a statement typed tomorrow for you to sign, though I expect to spend most of the day at the site where Adam died.” He picked up cutlery and napkins. “It’s a perfect temperature outside. I’ll turn on the fairy lights in the catio, set that table, and let’s enjoy our dinner there. For now, let’s forget the unfortunate Adam Nofftry.”
The salad was delicious, and the wine complemented it perfectly.
We didn’t discuss Adam Nofftry again that night. I was certain that neither of us actually forgot about him.
Chapter 11
The next morning, Izzy came into Deputy Donut. Her curls were neatly combed, staying in place better than mine ever did. Instead of her usual sneakers, T-shirt or sweater, and cutoffs or jeans, she wore black patent heels, a neatly tailored black linen dress, and a jean-style jacket made of black-and-white–striped linen. Her leather briefcase seemed extra bulky next to her slim black shoulder bag. She looked great, mostly because the green cast was gone from her face and her smile had returned. She sat at the table where she’d spent most of the previous afternoon.
I hurried to her. “How are you doing today?”
“I’ll get over the nightmares. How about you?”
“Your scream prepared me, so I wasn’t as shocked as you probably were. I slept okay.” I always felt safe with Brent. “What would you like today?”
“Coffee. I just came from your husband’s office. He offered my lawyers and me coffee, but he also told us that the coffee in the police department wasn’t very good. So I said I was coming here.”
I kidded, “You didn’t bring your lawyers? We welcome new customers.”
She slumped her shoulders. “So sorry.” She straightened and winked. “They’re friends of mine, but I wanted to keep some distance between the business we do together and our social life. Like, we might need to switch gears a little, you know? And this is a place for relaxing.”
“Would you like our usual Colombian or today’s special coffee? It’s a medium roast, slightly chocolatey and almost spicy. It’s from Java.”
“As my grandfather—not the one I told you about, the other one, my mother’s father—would have said, ‘a cup of Java.’ How can I resist that?”
“No one can. And would you like anything to go with it?”
“A donut?” She made it into a question, as if she hadn’t decided.
“Do you like apricots?”
“Of course. And I hope to grow some of them in my greenhouses, too.” Remembering what had happened the day before where she planned to build those greenhouses must have caused the flicker of pain that crossed her face.
“We made apricot fritters today, from fresh apricots.”
“I’d like two of them. Three if they’re small.”
I brought her the coffee and two plump fritters. “If this isn’t enough, we have lots.”
She gazed down at the plate of golden fritters. “It might not be enough. Giving a statement at the police station made me hungry.”
“How did it go?”
“Fine. I said that Adam might have had a heart attack or stroke or something like that. Do heart attacks and strokes make people thirsty?”
“I hope I never find out.”
“I wonder if Adam felt terrible and thought that water would help, so he went to the pond for a drink but collapsed there. Or maybe someone scared him to death. Like Ramona from TWIG. She’d be enough to scare anyone. Well, not me.”
I suggested, “Maybe Mr. Mystery returned and frightened him.”
“How could the mysterious Landon scare anyone? Didn’t you see how gentle and kind his eyes are?” Without apparently noticing that I didn’t respond, she asked, “Has he been back here since he left with that woman who looked like my cousin?”
“I haven’t seen him.”
She looked down at her fritter. “This is as delicious as I’d hoped it would be. I wonder what Landon’s doing in Fallingbrook. And if he’s still around. He wasn’t wearing a ring when he was in here yesterday, but that woman will probably set a trap for him.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t trust him so much. He seemed to struggle to come up with a reason for exploring your property the day before yesterday.”
“He thought it was a public trail.”
“But there are no signs that would have given him that impression.”
“Maybe he got the idea from maps? The former driveway could show up as a trail. And the ponds would show up, too, and the stream. Anyone might think it was a public area.”
It appeared that she wasn’t going to mention seeing him near her property shortly before she—and I—arrived there, so I told her, “Brent said you saw him driving away from the property when you were on your way to it yesterday.”
She sipped at the coffee, and then set her mug down on the table. “Your coffee is worth waiting for. I didn’t say that Landon, if that’s his name, was coming from the property. I don’t know where he’d been, only that he passed me going the other way. I wish I’d turned around and followed him and had not gone back to my—soon to be mine—property. Maybe someone else could have discovered Adam’s body before I ever returned. Maybe the mayor, who seems to like my project and didn’t like Adam’s plans, could have decided to check the place out. Or Ramona and her gang could have gone there to count trees, and they could have found him. They could have been the ones talking to your husband today.”
“Even though Adam Nofftry is no longer a threat to you, I wonder how safe you’ll be on that property after you buy it.”
She patted the black-and-white–striped jacket. “Luckily, I’m young and have a good, strong heart. No one is going to scare me to death.” She grinned up at me. “Don’t tell anyone, but I have a black belt in karate.”
I wasn’t surprised, given how intrepid Izzy had been the day we spent together when she was little. Still, I felt myself going pale. “Did you tell Brent?”
“Should I? I’m not ashamed of it, but it seems like an odd thing to brag about.”
“If it turns out that Adam hit his head on a rock or something, it might be best if Brent heard about it from you sooner rather than later.”
“He gave me his number. I’ll call him.” With one last bite, she finished an apricot fritter. “I wonder if Landon is Mr. Mystery’s first or last name. Whatever, I like it. Don’t you?”
“I suppose so.”
“You’ve already landed yourself a kind and handsome husband, or you’d be more excited about Landon.”
I had to laugh. “Maybe not. Landon’s sort of young for me.”
“Well, you’d be excited for me.” She gazed at the north wall of the dining room as if she could see through it all the way to wherever Landon was. “I wonder what it would take to get him to stay in Fallingbrook. Or move to Gooseleg, which might be even better.”
I teased, “You’re impossible.” I became serious again. “How many people have you told about your grandfather giving you money?”
“I don’t keep it a secret, but I don’t go around telling everyone.”
“Maybe you told someone who told someone who told Landon. Or he heard about it somehow, and he’s come to this area to find you. Maybe he’s hoping to scam you out of some of your cash.”
“I’m not scammable.”
I corrected myself. “Or charm you out of it.”
“I don’t see how he would have heard about it way off in Duluth.”
I reminded her, “Olivia and I weren’t sure he was telling the truth about where he was from.”
“Why would he lie about that? He looked honest.”
“Did he? Don’t you think that a successful scammer might look honest?”
“I’ll worry about that if I ever encounter him again. Which I probably won’t.” She gazed around our crowded dining room. “And don’t start thinking that I come here in hopes of seeing him. It’s you folks and your delicious coffee and donuts that keep bringing me back.”
“That’s what we hope people will think.”
“Is this your dream career?”
“I love it.”
“So, you understand being passionate about what you really want to do. I’m glad I came down to Fallingbrook and rediscovered my old friend from years ago.”
I thanked her. “I’m glad you did, too.”
But after she left, I wondered how glad I should be. Yes, it was great discovering that the adventurous little girl had turned into a self-possessed young woman focused on accomplishing her goals, but why had she called me to meet her at the property yesterday? Two sisters who were not only Izzy’s friends but were also her lawyers might have been a more likely choice to help her figure out why Adam’s car was parked on the road beside her property. And then after I got there and was putting the mostly empty donut box in my car, Izzy suddenly became brave enough to explore by herself with only my cat as company.
And brave enough to let out an earsplitting scream that had sounded totally authentic.
Could she possibly have known, before she asked me to join her, where Adam’s body was? Maybe she’d been afraid she couldn’t believably fake a case of shock and horror if we “discovered” the body together, so she’d hidden debris, knowing that I would probably want to remove the litter immediately. And then Dep played into her hands by noticing the box of donuts before Izzy had to pretend to find it.
She’d been a sweet little girl, and she still had an endearing air of naivete that I wanted to trust.
I knew what Brent would say about that.
Wondering if Izzy would check our compost bin for apricot pits, I positioned myself in the storeroom behind small appliances on wire racks where I wouldn’t easily be seen from the bin, and I watched through the window in the door to the parking lot. Minutes passed, and Izzy didn’t appear, maybe because she hadn’t been dressed for rooting through food scraps. I returned to the dining room, cleared her dishes, and cleaned the table.
Late in the afternoon, Jerry Creavus came in. He stopped in the doorway and seemed to survey the room. He walked to a table of tourists. In a booming voice, he welcomed them to Fallingbrook, and then he moved to a table of townspeople, shook their hands, clapped them on their backs, and asked to join them. Some of them nodded. He pulled an extra chair to their table and beckoned to me.
Tugging at the collar of his short-sleeved shirt, he said, “It’s hot out there! Do you have anything cold to drink, Emily?”
“Iced tea or coffee? Juice, water, lemonade?”
“Iced tea.”
“How about iced green tea with a hint of lemon and honey?”
“That sounds good. I’ll try it.”
“And to go with it, how about a raised, glazed donut with raspberry sorbet filling the hole?”
“Ooh-la-la, you’re getting fancy. Sorbet, these days, not good old-fashioned sherbet. Sure, I’ll try one of those.”
I took him the iced tea and his donut, mounded with sorbet and served in a bowl. He poked his spoon into the sorbet. “This is the type of thing I expected Adam Nofftry to serve in one of his restaurants at one of his fancy resorts. Well, Emily, I don’t know if you heard the terrible news, but you won’t be getting competition from him.”
I didn’t admit that I’d been the second—or possibly the third or fourth—person on the scene after Adam died. “It’s sad,” I agreed. “He was relatively young, I think.”
Jerry nodded. “A tragedy. Competition is actually a good thing. Did you know that?” Although Jerry faced me as if he were talking only to me, he spoke loudly enough to be heard by everyone else at his table and at several of the surrounding ones. He pointed an index finger upward. “Nofftry, now, while I didn’t want him to build that resort anywhere near here, his heart was in the right place. He was a good man, and I’m sure he’d have tried to help Fallingbrook by sending some of his clientele into town. They would have discovered the businesses here, including your cozy little donut shop. Who could resist a place like this? And while Nofftry didn’t have a chance of winning the election, his competition with me was good for Fallingbrook.” Jerry’s right hand tapped his jaw. “I would have collaborated with him on setting new policies going forward. Also, simply by running against me, he forced me to become a better candidate. I endeavored to be more in tune with my constituents, and you can’t expect that to change now that he has, sadly, passed away. He left a legacy, and his passing is a blow to us all.”
The other people at Jerry’s table murmured in agreement, and I left him to his politicking and returned to the kitchen to make fresh coffee. It was four o’clock, almost our closing time, but someone was sure to want a refill.
Grinding Colombian coffee beans to the medium coarseness we liked for our drip coffee, I thought about Jerry and the speech he had just delivered. Two days before, Jerry had acted like Adam Nofftry was his enemy. Now he claimed that Adam’s death was a tragic loss. His sudden appreciation of Adam made me wonder more, not less, where Jerry had been after he left our shop with his half dozen donuts. Maybe Jerry’s reaction was simply the common one after a death.
Pouring water into a coffee maker, I had my back to most of our dining room.
Behind me, Jocelyn said, “Look who’s here.” Her usually upbeat voice had gained a pinched and ominous tone.
Chapter 12
I turned around.
Brent, who almost never came to Deputy Donut except on business, was just inside our front door, along with Misty, a tall blond police officer who had been one of my two best friends ever since junior high. Both Brent and Misty seemed to avoid meeting my gaze. Brent glanced toward our office and gave a nearly imperceptible nod. As far as I knew, Dep was the only one in our office at the moment, but Brent’s face lacked his usual tenderness for her. I sidestepped toward our display case and peeked through the window between the kitchen and the office. Misty’s temporary patrol partner Tyler Tainwright stood on our back porch looking in through the glass door. Like Misty, he was in uniform.
And a man in a well-tailored brown suit was beside him.
