Killer Crullers (12 page)

I was expecting dinner when I got home, but found a note on the kitchen table instead.

Out with Phillip. There are leftovers in the fridge. Love, Momma.

Wow, they were really getting to be steady in their dating, and if it was only three times a week, I was the crown princess of Donut Land. My mother had been reluctant at first to date the chief of police—or anyone, for that matter—but she’d seemed to take to it after she got over the initial setbacks the two of them had. I’d been ambivalent about their relationship at first, but the police chief had proven himself to both of us.

I foraged a little, and in no time found some leftover meatloaf, Brussels sprouts with cheese sauce, and sweet, cooked carrots. It looked like a feast to me, and I was warming it in the microwave when my cell phone rang.

“Jake,” I said enthusiastically. “How’s Asheville?”

“To tell you the truth, I’m not cut out to be a teacher,” he said.

“Come on, you’ve got to love the adoring attention of all of the coeds hanging on your every word.”

He hesitated, and then said, “Some of them are a little more adoring than others.”

I tried my best not to laugh. Evidently Ashley had found him after all. “What do you mean?”

“A girl young enough to be my daughter nearly assaulted me on campus today, she hugged me so hard, and then got away before I could dissuade her of an odd notion she had that she knew me.”

“Did she say anything else? Maybe she just loved your lecture.”

“She kept calling me Uncle Jake, no matter how hard I tried to convince her that we weren’t related.”

I couldn’t help myself. I burst out laughing, and after a few seconds, Jake said, “It’s not that funny. That girl needs some serious help.”

“I’m sure she’s perfectly lovely. After all, it’s not every day a beautiful young brunette hugs you, is it? It had better not be, if you’re struggling for an answer.”

Jake paused a second, and then said, “I never said she was a brunette.”

“I’m sure you must have,” I said.

“Suzanne, I’m positive I didn’t. Come on, confess.”

“Okay, fine,” I said. “She’s my niece. At least she used to be back when I was married to Max. I ran into her and asked her to look you up when I found out she was going to UNC-A.”

He sighed, and I was afraid I may have crossed the line, but then I relaxed a little when I heard him chuckle. “She flummoxed me, that’s for sure. I must have turned twelve shades of red.”

“I can’t believe she didn’t explain it to you,” I said, admiring Ashley’s willingness to fully commit to the gag.

“No, it was a hug-and-run. I’m happy that’s been explained. Now, what other mischief have you been up to?”

I didn’t want to tell him about Desmond’s murder, but I really had no choice. There was no way I could keep it from him, not with his connections with state law enforcement, but it was too bad I had to kill the light mood between us.

“I’m afraid I’ve gotten involved in another murder investigation,” I said.

After a brief pause, he expelled a breath of air, and then said, “Tell me what happened.”

BASIC CRULLERS

Crullers come in many shapes, styles, textures, and tastes, depending on the recipe’s country of origin, but here’s one my family likes. Don’t be afraid to try other recipes yourself!

INGREDIENTS

Mixed

• 3 tablespoons butter, melted

• ¾ cup sugar, white granulated

• 2 eggs, well beaten

Sifted

• 3½ to 4½ cups all-purpose flour (I prefer unbleached)

• 2 teaspoons baking powder

• 1 teaspoon baking soda

• ½ teaspoon nutmeg

• ½ teaspoon cinnamon

• Pinch of salt

Added

• 1 cup whole milk (2 percent may be substituted, but hey, these are donut treats!)

DIRECTIONS

In one bowl, cream the butter and add the sugar and eggs. In another bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, nutmeg, cinnamon, and salt. Slowly add the dry ingredients into the wet, adding milk along the way, until it’s incorporated. If you need more flour, add it now until the dough is stiff enough to work and not sticky. Roll it out to ½ to ¼ inch thickness, and then cut out into shapes, traditional long rectangles, or fun squares, circles, or triangles. Fry in hot canola oil (360 to 370 degrees F) 3 to 4 minutes, turning halfway through. Dry on paper towels, then dust with confectioner’s sugar or decorate with icing and sprinkles.

Yield: Depends on sizes and shapes of your crullers: 4–6 rectangles, 6–10 miscellaneous shapes

CHAPTER 8

It was time for me to come clean. “Do you remember when I told you about the cruller assault?”

“Of course I do. Flying pastries are a little hard to forget,” he said.

“The man who threw them at Gabby was shot and killed last night between her shop and mine.” I told him the rest of it, and then finished with, “Gabby is their number one suspect, and she’s asked me to help her find the real killer.”

“There’s no chance in the world you said no to her, is there?” Jake asked.

“What do you think? When a friend asks me for help, I give it.”

He paused, and then asked, “Are you two really friends?”

“Not like Grace and I are,” I admitted, “but yeah, we’ve formed a bond over the years. I know she can be gruff and nosy and hard to get along with, but I still can’t stand by and see her falsely accused of murder.”

Jake took a deep breath, and then said, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you sure it’s not true? That missing money and diamond brooch could give her plenty of reasons to kill him, especially if he was making such a stink about it.”

“I won’t entertain the notion that she’s guilty unless evidence that confirms it presents itself,” I said. “For now, I’m working on the assumption that she’s innocent.”

“As long as Phillip Martin isn’t looking at you as a suspect, we’re fine,” Jake said. “You have an alibi, don’t you?”

“I’m afraid not,” I admitted. “After you turned me down, I tried Grace, but she was on a date, and so was Momma. The only person who saw me was the pizza delivery guy, and he was at the house hours before Desmond was murdered.”

“Suzanne, I’m so sorry. I should have come back to April Springs last night, or let you come here. I could have been your alibi.”

“It’s not your fault, Jake. Who knew what was going to happen, or that I’d need someone to swear that I didn’t do it?”

“Still, it bothers me. Tell you what. I’ll end my lecture series right now and come back to April Springs and help you look into the murder.”

“I appreciate the offer,” I said, “but no, thanks.”

There was a touch of hurt in his voice as he asked, “Why not? We make a good team, don’t we?”

“You know we do, and not just when we’re investigating. Jake, I won’t let you use this as an excuse to get out of something you committed to doing. Don’t worry, Grace is helping me, and George, too. We’ll manage.”

“Well, I’m close by if you need me.”

The microwave timer beeped, and Jake must have heard it. “Are you heating up leftovers for dinner again?”

“Momma’s on another date,” I admitted, “but trust me, her castoffs are better than most folks’ first offerings.”

“You don’t have to convince me of that,” Jake said. “What’s on the menu tonight?”

When I told him, he asked, “Is there enough for two?”

I had to laugh. “You’re staying in Asheville, sir, and that’s the last time I’ll discuss it with you. How’s the food there?”

“Better than I usually eat,” he admitted, “but nowhere near as good as your mother’s cooking. She’s been seeing a lot of the chief lately, hasn’t she?”

“Yes, but it makes her happy, so I’m staying out of the way.”

He chuckled. “That’s got to be killing you. I know Martin’s not your idea of the ideal boyfriend for your mother.”

“She had to get back on the horse sometime, and he’s at least got training wheels.”

“I think you’re mixing your metaphors there,” Jake said. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a horse with training wheels.”

“You know what I mean. In a way, Chief Martin is a rebound fling after my dad died.”

“He’s been gone a long time, Suzanne,” Jake said.

I didn’t need to be reminded of that. “True, but this is the first man she’s dated since, so I still think it counts. After she gets used to the idea of dating again, I’m sure she’ll start playing the field.” At least I hoped so.

“What makes you think this isn’t serious?” Jake asked.

“I don’t know. I just never entertained the prospect that it was,” I admitted.

Jake must have heard something in my voice, because he was quick to drop the subject. “Hey, don’t let your dinner get cold on my account. Go on and eat. I know how early you have to get up tomorrow.”

“Not as early as today,” I said.

“Why not?”

I’d forgotten to tell him, as well. When I brought Jake up to date on my changes, I could almost hear his smile over the phone. “Good for you. Now, if I can just get you to take a vacation every now and then, I’ll be a happy man.”

“Hey, I’m proud of myself taking baby steps,” I said.

“So am I. I’ll check in tomorrow, and Suzanne?”

“Yes?” I asked, hoping he’d tell me he loved me.

“Don’t take any chances.”

After we hung up, I realized that, in his own way, that was exactly what he’d said.

At least I was going to do my best to believe that.

*   *   *

I was just heading off to bed when I heard a car drive up. I peeked out the window and saw Momma being helped out of the chief’s personal car. Chief Martin had purchased an older sedan specifically so he could take her out on dates without using the squad car or renting a vehicle every time they went out. I moved away from the window and into the hallway by the stairs, because the last thing I wanted to see was the two of them saying good night. I had no idea how long they’d linger on the porch, no matter how much the temperatures had been dipping at night lately.

To my surprise, he didn’t even get a chance to walk her up to the front door. It burst open, and Momma hurried inside, as though she were being chased by a particularly aggressive bear. There was a look on her face I hadn’t seen before: a mix of puzzlement, shock, fear, and unless I was mistaken, a little bit of joy.

“What’s going on?” I asked as I rushed down the stairs to her. “Are you okay?”

“What? Of course I am. What are you still doing up?” Momma asked as she started to regain some of her composure.

“I’m sleeping in tomorrow,” I said. “What happened? Did he get fresh with you?” I knew it was a ridiculous question for a daughter to ask her mother, but I was at a loss for what might have just happened.

“Of course not. Phillip has always been a perfect gentleman with me.”

“Well, something surely spooked you,” I said.

“It’s nothing,” Momma said as she took off her jacket and hung it up.

“Listen, I’ve seen nothing, and that’s nowhere close to being it. Come clean. You can talk to me.”

Momma sat on the couch, still looking a bit shell-shocked. Whatever it was, it had been big enough to throw her off her game, something I never would have believed if I weren’t seeing it for myself.

“I suppose I must,” Momma said, and then she started to stand. “We need coffee first. I’ll make some.”

I touched her arm. “Stop stalling.”

She looked down at me, shrugged, and then said, “I suppose we have to talk about it sooner or later. Phillip just asked me to marry him.”

“What!” I screamed. “You’re kidding.”

She looked at me with surprise. “Do you think it’s foolish to believe that anyone would want to marry your mother?”

“I understand that completely, but I think he’s nuts to ask you. You turned him down, didn’t you?”

I looked long and hard at her, waiting, praying, hoping for an answer.

When she didn’t volunteer one, I asked dully, “You didn’t say yes, did you?”

“I told him I’d have to think about it,” Momma admitted.

“You can’t marry him!” I said as I jumped off the couch. “You haven’t been dating all that long, and his divorce isn’t even a year old. It’s insane to act so rashly and even consider jumping into a marriage with someone you barely know.”

“Are you going to tell me that we’re too young, as well?” Momma asked.

“I know how old you are,” I said, “I just wish you’d act your age.”

She ignored my protests and calmly took my hands in hers. “Suzanne, I know you’re speaking out of your concern for me, that you’re worried that I might get hurt by doing something rash, but think about it. Have I ever in my life jumped into anything without thinking it through thoroughly first?”

I considered what she was saying and realized that it was true. My mother could drive me crazy sometimes with her endless analysis of a situation, but for once, I was glad about her caution. “I’m sorry,” I said, calming down a little. “You just caught me off guard.”

“If you think you were surprised, you should have seen my reaction. I bolted away so fast it was as though I were on fire. I must call and apologize for that.”

I put my hand on hers before she could dial the police chief’s number. “That can wait. The two of us need to talk about this first.”

“Thus the coffee,” she said as she pulled away. “I’m afraid neither one of us will be getting to bed early tonight.”

“I’m fine with missing some sleep for an important cause, and I can’t imagine anything more important than this.”

While Momma went into the kitchen to make coffee—and to call Chief Martin, as well, I was sure—I slumped back down on the couch. I could easily believe the chief had asked her to marry him, and in a way, I was surprised that he hadn’t proposed sooner. He was too eager when it came to my mother, always trying to pull the trigger too quickly. What really surprised me was that my mother was actually considering it. What would that do to us, and our dynamic? I knew one thing. If they got married and the chief moved in—and why would Momma leave our home?—I would have to move out. It wasn’t that I hated him, we’d grown to at least tolerate each other lately, but I wouldn’t intrude on a newlywed couple’s space. The dynamic Momma and I had shared since my divorce would be over, and I feared we’d lose the closeness we’d fought so hard to achieve. It was the nature of the beast, after all. I could see our time together crumbling into a meal every now and then, maybe a movie, but not much else. It shocked me to realize just how much I clung to the fact that Momma and I had become a team, a pair of roommates who shared more than most grown daughters and their mothers.