“That’s interesting. I suppose he’s calling him Mister X,” I said with a smile.
“Dad isn’t naming him in the paper because he doesn’t want to take a chance on getting sued, but he’s pretty sure who it is. Can you keep a secret?” she asked me.
More than she knew. I wasn’t all that excited about her confiding in me, though. “Are you sure that you’re at liberty to tell me everything?” I asked.
“I know that you won’t spread it around. It’s Frank Grambling.”
My shock must have shown on my face. “Frank? Seriously?” If Ray Blake was right, which was a mighty big if, then Jude was not only sleeping with the man’s wife but stealing money from him as well. Frank had just managed to climb a few notches higher on my list if it were true.
Emma couldn’t hide her smile. “I know; can you believe it? Jude sold Frank some gold that turned out to be fake. When Frank demanded his money back, Jude told him that the cash was already gone and that Frank should just forget about it. I don’t know how well you know Frank Grambling, but Dad said that was something he wasn’t about to do. He’s going to dig the truth out, and he’s hoping that by running this story, Frank will come clean and admit what he’s done.”
“That’s a lot to hope for,” I said. “If he has any real proof, he should tell Chief Martin.” I fully realized how that sounded since I’d been known to delay handing over shaky evidence myself in the past.
“Nope. Dad says that real journalists don’t do that.”
“Is he willing to go to jail over it?” I asked.
“Are you kidding? There’s nothing he’d like better! He’s already got the headline. Journalist Jailed; Won’t Talk.”
“Well, then for his sake, I hope he’s sitting in jail behind bars by nightfall.”
Emma laughed. “I’m going to tell him that you said that.”
“Be my guest,” I said. “Now, if we’re finished speculating, you need to go set up the dining room so I can drop these donuts into the fryer.”
She left as I forced the batter into our heavy steel dropper and began making perfect little rings of goodness in the hot oil. Two minutes later, I took my chopsticks and turned them once, revealing a dark golden side of each treat. After they cooked on that side, I pulled them out and poured icing over them all, watching as the glaze crystalized and formed perfect, delightful coatings. Once I was finished, I called Emma back in.
“Are you ready to get started on the dishes?” I asked.
“I can’t wait,” she said. As I mixed the yeast dough, we chatted about the weather and a certain real estate agent in town named Larry Evans who was rumored to be wooing four different women in April Springs. It was outrageous, and nobody really believed it, but it was entertaining. The fact that the agent was in his eighties just helped add to the delight of me thinking of him slipping from one bedroom in town to another. I didn’t doubt that there was some basis to the rumor. I’d seen the way Larry had eyed me when he’d come into the shop. The man was a wolf in a green blazer, the jacket of choice for all of the agents in his firm.
The yeast dough was mixed soon enough, and as we waited for it to rest and raise, Emma and I took our standard break. At least we started to, but then my cellphone rang, and I knew exactly who was calling me that early in the morning.
“Jake, are you there already?” I asked.
“No,” he said, out of breath. I could hear him running and terminal sounds all around him. “Our flight was late, and I’ve got to run to catch my next one. Fortunately my flight’s going through Vegas. The terminal’s not that big, so I’m going to a nearby gate.”
“You won’t even have time to drop a quarter in the slot machine, will you?” I asked. Grace had gone to Las Vegas after winning a sales contest for her company, and she’d marveled that they even allowed gambling in the airport after she got through security.
“I don’t gamble,” he said. “Just wanted to say hi while I had the chance. Hi.”
“Hi yourself. Call me when you get there, will you?”
“Promise,” he said. “Love you.”
“I love you, too,” I said as he hung up.
Emma was standing there grinning at me when I hung up. “That’s an early phone call, even for you, Suzanne. Do I even have to ask who it was?”
“No, you sure don’t.”
“It didn’t last long,” she said.
“He was changing planes, so he couldn’t chat.”
“Oh, that sounds exciting. Where’s he going?” Emma asked me.