“How old are we talking here?” I asked her, wary of what Peter had said to me the day before.
“I don’t know. Maybe two or three years older than I am, anyway. What do you think? Is that too old for me?”
“No, that sounds just about perfect to me,” I said as the timer went off. It was time to go back inside and prep the donuts again before they were ready for proofing. “No rest for the weary,” I said as I stood.
“Or the wicked, either,” Emma replied with a grin.
“I’m not exactly sure which we are,” I answered in kind.
“Can’t we be both?” she asked me.
“Today we can be anything we put our minds to,” I replied.
“Then I want to be home in bed,” Emma said with a laugh.
“Well, almost anything,” I replied as we walked in and I locked the door behind us. We had a long few hours of donutmaking before we opened our doors for our first customers, and I for one was ready to get busy making treats. I might not be able to cure any disease or comfort anyone in serious pain, but I still managed to bring out a few smiles in the course of my day, and that was worth something.
It wasn’t all smiles, though, or even very many of them that day.
The mayor came into the donut shop a little after I unlocked the front doors at six. I didn’t even wait for George to order as I grabbed him an old-fashioned cake donut and a cup of coffee.
“Am I that predictable, Suzanne?” he asked me as he handed over his money.
“I like someone who’s reliable,” I said.
“Then you should be my biggest fan,” he said. “How’s Jake doing these days?”
I put on my best smile. “He’s fine,” I said with the slightest catch in my voice. I hadn’t meant to show any emotion, but clearly I wasn’t that good at hiding my feelings.
George raised one eyebrow, but it was clear he was going to let it pass without comment.
“How well did you know Jude Williams?” he asked me. Did George already know that I was investigating the man’s death?
“We went to school together, but we were never all that close. He came in here every now and then for donuts, but we never had all that much to talk about. Any reason for the question?”
“What? No, just a little idle chatter,” he said. “It’s a real shame, though.”
“Did you know him well?” I asked, sorry for my friend’s loss.
“Not at all,” he said. “It’s just not good for the town. We’ve had far too many murders in the past few years.”
“Does it make you want to give up being the mayor and sign on as a cop again?” I asked him. George had served under Chief Martin, and now he was his boss, a relationship I often wondered about.
“No, thanks. For the moment, I believe that I’ll stay right where I am. I have enough problems to deal with without becoming a cop again.” The mayor looked over his shoulder casually, and then he said, “Speaking of which, here comes one now.”
I looked up to see Van Rayburn coming into the donut shop. Van was a vocal town councilman who rarely agreed with George about anything. “It’s too late to skip out now,” I said with a grin.
“Watch me,” George said as he grabbed what was left of his donut and his coffee.
“Mr. Mayor,” Van started to say, but George interrupted him.
“No time to chat. Got an important meeting at city hall.”
“Then I’ll walk with you,” Van said. “We can talk along the way.”
As George hurried out the door in hopes of escaping, I was happy to see that his limp was nearly gone. He’d hurt his leg helping me during an investigation, and every time I’d seen him limping afterwards, I felt guilt. Maybe I could finally put that particular demon to bed, not that there weren’t half a dozen waiting to take its place. It was impossible to investigate murder as an amateur and not have some collateral damage from friendly fire, and over the years I’d had more than my share. It was just one of the costs of conducting my unofficial investigations, but at least I could take pride in the fact that George, Grace, and I had helped catch more than one killer in the past. I just hoped that when all was said and done, it would be enough to make up for the hurt I’d caused unintentionally as I struggled to find the truth.
Chapter 7
I thought closing time at eleven o’clock would never get there. There had been a steady stream of customers coming in all morning long, and each and every one of them seemed to want to talk about what had happened to Jude Williams. By the time we closed for the day, I’d called Grace and arranged to meet her later, but in the meantime, I was on my own. As I walked to my Jeep, I glanced over at Gabby Williams’ shop. I wasn’t surprised in the least that she was closed, but was that a light on inside? I decided to walk over and see. The door was locked, but I couldn’t let that stop me. As I pounded on the door, I called out, “Gabby, it’s Suzanne Hart. Let me in.”