Powdered Peril (17 page)

Using a cookie scoop, drop walnut-sized portions of batter into small muffin tins or your donut maker, and bake at 365 degrees F for 6–10 minutes, or until golden brown. Top with marmalade while the donuts are hot.

Yield: 6–10 small donuts.

CHAPTER 12

“I’m not too early, am I?” Grace asked when she knocked on the front door of the donut shop a few minutes after I’d closed.

“No, you’re right on time. I have to balance out the register, and then I’ll be ready to go.”

“Is she still back there?” Grace asked in a hushed tone.

“No, Nan’s already gone,” I admitted. “Why do you ask?”

Grace shrugged, but there was no denying how relieved she looked by the news. “Her name just keeps coming up in our investigation. It’s kind of odd, wouldn’t you say?”

“Do you think she actually might have had something to do with Peter’s murder?” I asked. “I had a long conversation with her this morning, and it’s looking less and less like coincidence that she’s involved. She was Peter’s babysitter when he was young, did you know that?”

“No, not a clue. Do we know that it’s actually true?”

I admitted that I didn’t, and she followed up with another question. “How about her relationship with Rose White? Did she explain that to your satisfaction?”

“They were best friends who had a falling-out,” I answered.

Grace wasn’t buying that, though. “If that’s true, why would Rose still have a photo in her apartment that shows the two of them together? That certainly seems odd to me.”

“Maybe,” I admitted. “You’re not a big fan of my new assistant, are you?”

“I don’t know if I am or not. I just think we need to dig a little deeper, and get someone who can verify what she’s told you.”

I thought about Nan, and how much I still didn’t know about her. Could she have been involved? I really couldn’t say one way or the other, something that was very unsettling for me. “I’ll keep my eye on her,” I said.

“I’m serious, Suzanne.”

“So am I,” I admitted. The money balanced beautifully, something I was always grateful for, and as I made out the deposit, I asked, “What are we going to do with seventeen donuts?”

“I’ll take one off your hands, and some coffee, too, if you have any left,” she said.

“Help yourself,” I said as I poured her coffee in a to-go cup.

“Why don’t we bring the donuts along with us,” she said. “You know how good they are at greasing wheels.”

“They
are
tough to say no to,” I admitted. “We’re heading back to Union Square, right?”

“You bet. I want to talk to Henry Lincoln and find out what was going on.”

“Do you think he’ll open up to us?” I asked. It always amazed me how willing folks were to talk to us about the most intimate things.

“With your donuts as a gift, how can he say no?”

*   *   *

“Mr. Lincoln? Do you have a minute?” We’d driven to Union Square straightaway, and I was relieved to find Peter’s former business partner in his office. Lincoln was a short, heavyset man, with a carefully tailored suit that didn’t quite manage to hide his build. We’d chased suspects down in the past, and it was never an easy thing to do. Worse yet, after we found some of them, they still refused to answer our questions. Without badges, Grace and I had to rely on our charm, and my donuts, too.

I was always glad when we had the treats with us.

“Are those donuts?” Lincoln asked, spying the dozen I had with me. I’d left the rest in Grace’s car, just in case we needed them for something else.

“That’s right, and they’re all for you.”

He wasn’t sure what to make of that. “And you’re just giving them to me, why exactly?” He looked at us both carefully, and then his gaze lingered on Grace. “I know you. You were Peter’s girlfriend, weren’t you?”

“I was,” she admitted. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Come in. Sit down,” he said. “In all honesty, it was more your loss than mine.”

“Does that mean that you’re not sorry that he’s dead?” I asked.

“I didn’t catch your name,” he said as he looked at me and frowned slightly.

“I’m Suzanne Hart.”

The frown deepened. “Do I know your mother?”

“You do,” I answered, keeping my response as simple as I could. The less I said about Momma, the bigger presence she’d have in the conversation.

“Thought so,” he said, and then muttered something else under his breath.

“So,” I said, “back to Peter. You didn’t sound that upset about him dying.”

“Of course I am, but not for such altruistic reasons as your friend there. It turns out Peter was pretty adept at lying, even to his partner. I hope he wasn’t that way in his personal life.”

“I’m sorry to say that he was,” Grace admitted.

Lincoln just shook his head. “The man never knew when to play it straight, and he never realized just how good he had it.”

“How exactly did he lie to you?” I asked.

“Where do I start? We were going along fine, making a little money here and there, without any real downside. Then he got the opportunity of a lifetime, and he wanted to cut me in on it. Nice guy, right?”

“What happened?” Grace asked, her voice softening.

“I lost half of everything I had in the world,” Lincoln said. “I might as well have married a trophy wife and given it all to her. At least then I would have gotten some companionship out of the deal.”

“I’m confused,” I said. “How does that make Peter the bad guy? He must have lost money, too.”

“That was the impression I got, until three days ago, that is. I was at a bar drowning my sorrows when the man we’d invested with happened to come in. After a few drinks, he asked me why I didn’t pull out when Peter did, when the fund was still making money.

“I nearly spit out my drink. I asked him what he was talking about, and he told me that Peter had pulled out everything he had just before the dive, but that I’d told him that I was going to ride it out no matter what. He screwed me to the wall, but good.”

“What good did that do him, though?” Grace asked.

Lincoln sighed heavily. “We had an argument just before it happened, a stupid little thing that didn’t mean anything. Well, good old Pete took offense, and he skewered me for disagreeing with him.”

“You must have wanted to kill him,” I said lightly.

“I’d be lying if I said the thought didn’t cross my mind,” Lincoln said, and then realized what he was saying. “Hold on a second. You’re not trying to hang this on me, are you?”

“Well, you said yourself that you had a motive.”

“Maybe so,” Lincoln said, “but I wasn’t the only one, not by far. The man polarized people more than anyone I’ve ever known in my life. There must be a list a mile long of folks who wanted to see him dead.” He turned to Grace. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to talk about him that way to you.”

“I understand,” Grace said, something she’d been repeating since we’d started our investigation.

“Could you name anyone besides yourself who might have a motive?” I asked. “Generalities won’t do any good. We need names and concrete reasons they should be considered as suspects.”

Lincoln leaned back in his chair, and for a second, I worried that it might not take his full weight. “Why should I help you hang some other poor guy? I love donuts as much as the next guy, but they aren’t exactly worth throwing somebody under the bus.”

“Well,” I said with my brightest smile, “there’s always my mother.”

He sat up at that point, and the frown suddenly reappeared. “There’s that, but do you have anything else besides donuts to make it worth my while talking to you?”

“Funny, I thought you’d be eager to give us names of folks we could investigate besides you,” I said with a smile.

“What makes you two think you can catch a killer, anyway?” he asked. “Neither one of you is a cop.”

I shrugged, trying to look as nonchalant as I could. “We’ve done it before, working with the state police, and on our own.” That might have been stretching things a little, but I could justify it if I had to. After all, we’d helped Chief Martin solve cases before, both with Jake’s assistance and alone.

That seemed to impress him, at least a little. “At the top of my list would be his brother, Bryan,” Lincoln said.

“We’ve spoken to him already,” I said. “Anyone else?”

He nodded as he glanced at Grace, and then quickly looked away. “I don’t have too many other details about his personal life.”

Grace shook her head. “Mr. Lincoln, if you’re worried about hurting me, don’t. I know about Peter’s dalliances.”

“I’m sorry to bring it up,” Lincoln said. “But Peter fancied himself a ladies’ man. Why he would go out for hamburgers when he had steak at home is beyond me.”

Grace didn’t react, so it took all I had not to do so myself. Was this man seriously hitting on Grace right after Peter’s death? He had nerve, I had to give him that.

“Thank you,” Grace said noncommittally. “Are there any names you can share with us?”

Lincoln leaned back again, and then began ticking them off on his fingers. “There was a girl named Leah, another one named Kaye, and a pair of older women he had a few flings with that he bragged about when he was drunk. Peter used to say that no woman could resist him, no matter how young or old. He said just recently that he had dates on the same night with a woman in her early twenties and one in her late forties. He wasn’t much of a man, no doubt about it.”

“Any idea who the older ladies might be?” I asked.

Lincoln shrugged. “He said something about his landlady, and a friend of hers. Peter bragged that neither one knew he’d been seeing the other. I swear, considering all the women in his life, it’s amazing that he ever got anything done.” He sat up and pushed away from his desk, creating more open space between us. “That’s all I can give you. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help, but there’s nothing left to say, and I can’t imagine why we’d ever need to talk again.”

“If you’d like us to take your name off our suspect list once and for all,” I said, “it’s easy. Just give us your alibi for the night and the next morning when Peter was murdered, and we’ll be out of your hair.”

He was about to comment on my request when his phone rang. He glanced at the number, and then said, “Sorry, but I’ve been waiting for this call. It’s going to be a while, so there’s no need for you to wait.”

Grace and I got the hint, and stood up together.

As we did, Lincoln said into his phone, “Hold on one second, please,” and didn’t say another word until we were gone.

“What do you make of that?” I asked Grace when we were back out in her car.

“I already knew that Peter was a cheat. Now we’re just discovering how unfaithful a man he really was.”

“Do you really believe that he was having a fling with Rose White?” I asked.

“We’ve had two people refer to it, so I’ve got a feeling that it’s probably true.”

A thought just chilled me. “And her friend? Could he have been talking about Nan? If he was, it gave my new assistant reason of her own to want to see Peter dead.”

“It could also explain why their friendship broke up. I guess there’s no way to know for sure until you ask her,” Grace said.

“That’s a conversation I’m not looking forward to,” I admitted.

“I could do it myself, if you want me to,” Grace volunteered.

That was the only scenario worse than me doing it on my own. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. Tomorrow will be soon enough, though, don’t you think?”

“Of course,” Grace said.

“What do you think of Henry Lincoln? Could he have murdered Peter?”

Grace didn’t even need time to consider it. “Peter may well have ruined him, so yes, I think the man has his own reasons for wanting him dead. Besides, we don’t have an alibi for him, so there’s no way to check whether he has someone covering for him or not. Until we find out where he was when Peter was murdered, his name stays on our list.”

“Agreed,” I said. “In the meantime, who do we talk to next?”

I thought about it, and then realized there was one name that kept coming back to the top of my list. “I think we should find Bryan and see just how deeply his hatred for his brother ran.”

“I’m game if you are, but I’ve got to warn you, I doubt he’ll be pleasant.”

“You mean he could be ruder than he was before?” I asked.

“Trust me, he was on his best behavior then,” Grace said.

“Oh, boy. I can’t wait. Do you know where he lives?”

“Actually, it’s not that far from here,” Grace said.

“Then let’s go.”

*   *   *

We found Bryan working in his driveway. He had portable tables set up under a canvas canopy with plain metal legs and a sand-colored top that blocked the sun. Under the tables were the bags and boxes of things we’d taken from Peter’s apartment, and he was currently sorting through the bags that Grace and I both knew contained nothing but trash.

“So, you got it after all. Good,” I said as we approached, trying my best to look cheerful. “We were hoping that Rose would change her mind.”

“Rose had nothing to do with it,” Bryan said smugly. “My lawyer went over there with me and made her turn it over. I’m the executor of his estate, so I’m in charge, not her, and not anyone else.”

If he was looking for a fight, I wasn’t about to give him one. I was there for answers, not a verbal sparring match. I looked over the garbage and asked in a voice as interested as I could make it, “So, have you found anything?”

He looked disgusted by the piles, and I could see that he’d at least laid layers of newspapers down before he’d gotten started. “No, you were right about that,” he conceded grudgingly. “It’s all garbage.”

“Hey, you never know. You might have found something important that the rest of us missed,” I said. “It was smart of you to double-check after us.” I was doing all I could to appease the man, and Grace caught on.

She smiled at him and said, “If you’re finished with this, we can help you bag it all up again.”

“That would be great,” Bryan said. Apparently he was pretty amiable when everyone did exactly what he wanted. Then again, who wasn’t?

Grace and I grabbed trash bags and started working. We had the mess rebagged in no time. “Where would you like these?”