Evil Eclairs (15 page)

“Perhaps,” she said.

One eyebrow shot up, but then he nodded, and headed for the door. “Good-bye, Suzanne.”

“Bye,” I said.

After he was gone, I asked, “What was that about?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re kidding, right? I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. Next time leave a dishtowel hanging on the front door, would you? You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

It was amusing to watch her face redden. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Not at the moment, but who knows what might have happened if I’d just given you a little more time? Come on, I told you it was okay with me.”

“And I said I wasn’t entirely certain that I was fine with it,” she said, using that tone of voice that normally meant I should drop it.

I wasn’t about to, but then I saw her expression, and decided that it wasn’t fair to pick on her for doing exactly what I’d recommended. “Any ideas for dinner? I could take us out if you’d like.”

“I thought I might reheat some chili. It won’t be long before it’s too hot for it. What do you say?”

“I say yum,” I answered. “Let’s eat out on the front porch.” Sometimes when the weather was nice, Momma and I ate outside where we could take in the beauty of the park while we dined.

“That’s an excellent idea,” she said. “You set the places, and I’ll get it ready. We’ll be eating in fifteen minutes.”

We beat that by two minutes, and as we sat down to our meal, I looked out at the park and said, “Your grandfather was a pretty smart fellow building this house next to the park.”

“There wasn’t a park here when he built it,” Momma said as she added a little sour cream to her bowl. I was a purist, but Momma even added pasta to her chili bowl sometimes. She’d urged me to try it, but so far I’d managed to resist her suggestion.

“That makes sense. Otherwise they probably wouldn’t have let him build it this close.” My mother smiled, so I asked, “What is it?”

“I can’t believe I never told you this story. You’ve got things reversed. He used to own all of this, all the way to the tracks.”

I thought about all the land that encompassed. “And he sold it? Why? Did he need the money?”

“On the contrary, this was a small fraction of his holdings. He had foresight, that’s all. After he bought the land, he built our cottage, and then deeded the park to the city.”

“Sounds like he was a real humanitarian,” I said.

“Not particularly. He loved trees and grass and flowers, but he hated their upkeep. By putting the park here, he got the benefits of a beautiful piece of property without having to lift a finger maintaining it.”

“Didn’t he mind the people being here all of the time?”

“From what I understand,” my mother said, “that was part of the enjoyment for him. Long after everyone else went home, he had the best front yard in seven counties. Cyrus was a crafty old fellow.”

“Did you get to spend much time with him growing up?” I asked. He’d been dead long before I came along.

“I was ten when he died,” she said. “Still, we spent a great deal of time here together. He sold off most of his land, but this place was always special to him. My family moved in here a month after he was gone, and I swear I could still smell those wintergreen mints he loved all over the place.”

I looked carefully at my mother. “Are you saying you believe in ghosts?”

She laughed. “Even if I did, my grandfather wouldn’t be one of them. He was always ready for the next challenge, and didn’t dwell on the past. He nearly lost everything at one point in his life, but my father told me that he never gave it a second thought. He just rolled up his sleeves and got back to work.”

“He sounds like a cool guy,” I said.

“He was that.”

After we were finished eating, I stood and began gathering bowls and glasses. Momma put a hand on my arm. “Those can wait,” she said. “I need to talk to you.”

“Those words are never followed with good news, are they?” I asked as I sat back down.

“This isn’t good or bad; it just is. Phillip has asked me to have dinner with him tomorrow night.”

“Is the divorce final?” I asked.

“As of today,” Momma said. “That’s why he came by.”

I whistled. “Boy, you have to give him credit. He didn’t waste much time asking you out, did he?”

“I thought you approved.”

“Of him, or of you dating? Both, if that’s what you want. What did you say?”

“I was about to answer when you rushed through the door like you were on fire.”

I suddenly felt bad about that. “I’m so sorry.”

Momma smiled at me. “Are you kidding me? You saved me from answering. I could have kissed you when you walked in.”

“What was your answer going to be?”

She shrugged. “I honestly hadn’t made up my mind one way or the other, and now I don’t have to.”

“I saw the look in his eye. He’s not going to give up that easily.”

“But for tonight he will,” she said.

“Shh,” I said to her.

“Suzanne, are you shushing me?”

I pointed to the park. There, on the edge of the forest that abutted it, stood a fawn, its golden coat shimmering in the dusk.

We watched the young deer for what felt like an hour but was most likely only a few minutes before it caught our scent and bolted back into the woods.

“Thank you, Great-grandfather,” I said softly.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Momma said.

The conversation was over, the spell of it broken by the deer’s disappearance. We gathered the dirty dishes up and headed inside. I was glad we’d had that talk. We didn’t do enough of that these days, and I hoped the presence of a new man in her life—whoever he might be—wouldn’t interfere with the time we spent together. One of the real pleasures of moving back home was getting reacquainted with my mother. I’d left her, filled with optimism about my new life with Max, and I’d returned more than a little worse for the wear. Coming back with those battle scars had presented a silver lining, though. For the most part, my mother had accepted me more as an equal than as a child, and I delighted in getting to know her as an adult. Sure, sometimes we slipped back in our well-worn roles of mother and daughter, but usually just in times of great stress.

Unfortunately, lately great stress was just about all that I was feeling.

I thought about pursuing more leads before I went to bed, but I was so worn out that I wasn’t at all certain I was thinking clearly. What I needed was a good night’s sleep.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t in the cards for me.

DROP DONUTS

This is a good basic drop donut. Unlike the baked or yeast donuts, these are hard to make into a traditional donut shape without a dropper, and even then the results can vary. Most days I make these, I use the standard two-spoon technique described below. Some folks like icing or glaze on theirs, but I just sprinkle a little powdered sugar and enjoy!

INGREDIENTS

• 1½ cups all purpose flour

• ½ cup sugar (white)

• 1 egg, beaten

• ½ teaspoon baking powder

• ½ teaspoon baking soda

• ¼ teaspoon nutmeg

• Dash of salt

• 1 teaspoon vanilla

• 1 cup buttermilk (2% or whole milk will also do)

• ½ cup milk (2% or whole milk will also do)

DIRECTIONS

Heat canola oil to 360 degrees while you mix the batter. Sift the dry ingredients (flour, salt, baking powder, baking soda, and nutmeg) together, then stir in the buttermilk, milk, sugar, vanilla, and the beaten egg. When the ingredients are incorporated, take a teaspoon of batter and rake it into the fryer with another spoon. If the dough doesn’t rise soon, gently nudge it with a chopstick, being careful not to splatter oil. After two minutes, check, and then flip, frying for another minute on the other side. These times may vary given too many factors to count, so keep a close eye on the donuts.

Makes about a dozen small donuts.

CHAPTER 11

“Hello?” I managed to ask after grabbing for and completely missing the phone by my bed. “Hello?” I repeated. I’d been asleep about an hour, just long enough to get into a relaxed state of being, and one of the worst times to wake up.

“I can’t believe I just did that. Suzanne, I forgot the time completely,” Jake said apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said as I sat up in my bed. “It’s great to hear from you anytime. I was hoping you’d call.” I knew I was on the phone and he couldn’t see me, but I still ran my fingers through my hair in an effort to tame it. “I’d love to talk to you. How was your day?”

“Not nearly as pleasant as I’d hoped,” he admitted. “I wanted to spend some time with you, but instead I was with your chief of police all day.”

“You couldn’t have been with him all day,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“He was here when I got home,” I explained. “From what I could gather, he was asking Momma out on a date.”

“His divorce was final today, and he’s trying to make a move on her tonight? Wow, that’s really fast, isn’t it?”

“I suppose if you look at it in one way it is, but when you consider the fact that he’s been in love with her since grade school, I’m guessing he decided he’s finally waited long enough.”

“Does that mean you approve?” I could hear the hint of a smile in Jake’s words, and I loved the sound.

“I don’t exactly disapprove,” I said.

“We both know that’s not the same thing.”

“We do at that. I missed seeing you today.”

“I missed you, too.”

After a slight pause, he asked, “You were pretty busy yourself, weren’t you?”

“I ran a few errands after work. Why?”

“I ran into Vern Yancey twenty minutes after you did. He wasn’t pleased with you and Grace grilling him.”

“That’s surprising.”

“What, that he didn’t like answering your questions?”

“No,” I said, “that he even acknowledged that we’d spoken. He’s not exactly the most forthright man in the world, is he?”

“He does enjoy his monosyllabic responses.”

“Wow, that’s a big word for a cop to be using,” I said, hoping he could hear my smile, as well.

“I got a dictionary for Christmas by mistake, so I thought I might as well put it to good use.”

“Well done,” I said. “Did Vern tell you anything special, like providing an alibi for the night of the murder?”

“He gave me something, but it’s going to be tough to check out.”

“What is it? Maybe I can help.”

Jake laughed. “Nice try, but I think I can manage it on my own.”

“If you want any more suspects to look at, I’ve got a nice list I’m building.”

“I’m sure you do.”

I suddenly ached to see him. It was hard enough when he was out of town, but having him in April Springs just made me want to see him more. “If you want to come over, I could be ready in five minutes.”

“Not this late.”

“It’s barely past nine,” I said.

“Which is close to midnight your time, and neither one of us wants to see the carriage turn into a pumpkin. Go to sleep. We’ll get together sometime tomorrow, even if it’s just over a cup of coffee and a donut. My treat.”

I laughed at that. “Wow, you really know how to turn a girl’s head.”

“What can I say, I’m quite the catch.”

“Now if you can just get someone to chase you,” I said, giggling for a moment like a schoolgirl.

“If you promise to try, I won’t run very fast.”

“You’d better not. Good night, Jake.”

“Good night, Suzanne.”

Before he could hang up, I said, “Thanks for calling.”

“In spite of the hour?”

“Because of it. It’s really nice hearing your voice just before I go to sleep.”

After I hung up, I pulled the covers a little tighter around me. There was something nagging at me in the back of my mind, and just as I drifted off to sleep, I realized what it was. Jake hadn’t warned me off the case, something that he’d said every time I’d snooped into someone’s murder in the past. Either he was slipping, or my boyfriend was starting to understand me a little better. All of the warnings and threats he could muster wouldn’t stop me from digging into Lester’s murder, and it appeared that he was finally realizing that.

Somehow, it made drifting off to sleep even sweeter.

*   *   *

“I love this time of night,” Emma Blake said as we took our break the next morning, standing outside the donut shop in the dark at a quarter till four. “It’s so peaceful.”

“Technically, it’s morning,” I said, “but I have to agree. The town seems so quiet and content, doesn’t it?”

“As long as Happy Crane hasn’t started delivering his newspapers yet. I don’t know why Dad puts up with him. The man hasn’t had a new car in twenty years, and that clunker he’s driving now backfires every twenty feet.”

“I don’t know; I think it’s reassuring to hear him come by.” Emma’s father’s newspaper seemed to exist as a way to distribute ads to its subscribers, but Ray Blake was always on the lookout for news. If he could ever manage to scoop the papers in Hickory and Charlotte on a hot story, he claimed that he would give his newspapers away free that day, but so far he hadn’t given out a single one. “Is Ray trying to solve Lester’s murder?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if he could break the story, but Dad doesn’t like to get directly involved with murder investigations.”

“Then he’s smarter than I am,” I admitted. “I agree with the sentiment, but I can’t seem to stay away from them these days.”

“It’s not your fault,” Emma said. “You haven’t had anything you could turn your back on. I’m just sorry I can’t help. If I try to do anything again, Dad said he’s sending me to my aunt Tess’s, and trust me, that’s incentive enough to keep on the straight and narrow.”

“You don’t like your aunt?”

“She’s not really my aunt; she’s an old family friend. The woman is pushing ninety, and she still drives, though not often, and certainly not well. Even with all that, it’s still better than her cooking. You wouldn’t believe some of the things she’s tried to get me to eat in the past.”

“Then it’s a good idea to stay out of this,” I said. I was overprotective of Emma, and I tried to keep her involvement in my impromptu investigations to a minimum, though she usually protested the exclusion.