Chocolate Crunch Murder (10 page)

“As if we need an excuse to eat donuts,” Amy said, from behind the counter.

“And drink coffee,” Kent added in.

“Milkshakes too.” Lilly slurped on the end of her straw and grinned around it.

“Yeah, yeah, but this party is to celebrate two things. Listen up, you guys. Don’t let the sugar rush break your concentration.”

Chuckles rippled through the room. Jung leaned against the wall next to the kitchen door, chomping on a Choc Crunch donut.

“We’re here to celebrate the fact that we filled our first national order of over five hundred donuts!”

Applause erupted in the room, most of it directed toward Jung, Maricela, Angelica, Ken and Amy, of course. They’d worked their butts off, over time, to get the job done.

“My fantastic assistants, my bakers, and friends, even Eva chipped in when she could. I couldn’t have done this without any of them. Donut Delights wouldn’t be the success it is today if it wasn’t for them.” Heather wiped a stray tear from her cheek. Tears of joy, of course. How could they be anything else?

Maricela and Angelica hugged each other, smiling, their cheeks wet too.

“Which brings me to my next, most important point. We are here to celebrate the fact that Jung’s name is clear.”

Another round of applause, louder than the last one. People cheered and clapped, Lilly stomped her feet, mouth coated in strawberry milkshake.

Jung clapped harder than anyone else. “Thank you,” he yelled.

“Now,” Heather said, through the laughter and smiles which warmed the interior of Donut Delights. “We can get back to the aforementioned sugar rushes.”

“And leg day afterward,” Amy called. “Just kidding. I’ll let you off the hook until tomorrow.”

Heather groaned and palmed her forehead. She could go without that. The last exercise session had sent her into spasm, for heaven’s sake.

The door to Donut Delights opened, and a man strode into their midst. He straightened his silver tie, glanced around at the guests, then spotted Heather. He made a beeline for her, exuding power in every step.

“Heather Shepherd?” He asked.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she replied, then brushed off her hands on her apron. She stuck out her palm, and they shook. A firm shake. As powerful as those steps had been. “How may I help you?”

“I’m Ronald Tombs. You know my son, Foster.”

“Oh yeah? How’s Foster doing, I haven’t heard from him since, uh, in a couple of weeks?” Heather had been about to say that she hadn’t seen him since his arrest. Probably not a good topic to broach.

Ronald stiffened ever so slightly. “He’s fine, thank you. I’ve come to thank you for what you did for my son.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Heather replied. Ryan rose and joined her, then slid his arm around her shoulder. “Feel free to join us for some donuts, shakes, and coffee.”

“I’d prefer to talk to you in private, Mrs. Shepherd. I feel there’s only one way to thank you, appropriately.”

“Oh? What might that be?”

“I’d like to invest in your business. I believe, I could help you turn Donut Delights into a nationwide franchise,” Ronald Tombs said, somberly.

Heather’s heart skipped a beat. She shared a glance with her hubby.

“You’re right,” she said, “We should talk in my office.”

THE END

A letter from the Author

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Susan Gillard