Sinister Sprinkles Part 6

"I've been trying to get hold of him, but he's been too busy to return my calls."

"I'm not sure where he is," I said. Jake wasn't always at liberty to tell me where he was, or what he was doing. It was one of the things that frustrated me most about our relationship.

The chief nodded. "Well, if you talk to him before I do, have him give me a call."

He put his hat back on and started for the door when I called out, "Chief, hang on a second."

As he turned back to me, I grabbed a paper cup, filled it with coffee, then I handed it to him. "On the house. Good luck."

He looked genuinely surprised by the offer, and as he took the cup, he said softly, "Thanks, Suzanne."

"Don't mention it," I said.

After he was gone, George and Emma started talking at once about what could have happened to our two errant townsfolk.

"I really don't think they're together," George said. "It's hard to imagine that there was a love triangle going on there that n.o.body knew about." He looked at me and added, "Sorry, Suzanne. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Don't apologize to me," I said. "I can't see it happening, either."

"It's possible, though, right?" Emma asked from her spot on the couch.

George said grimly, "Even though I don't think it's true, for their sakes, I hope that's all it is."

The dire tone of his voice caught my attention. "What are you implying?"

He stared down into his coffee for a few seconds, then said, "Never mind. I was just thinking out loud."

"Do you honestly think I'm going to give up that easily? Come on, come clean, George."

When Emma saw that he still wasn't going to explain himself, she said, "He's wondering if they're both dead, too."

There was a shocked silence all over the room, but I noticed that George didn't deny it. Max and I had a rocky relationship-through dating, marriage, and divorce-and while I might have wished him harm at one point in our lives, I'd soon gotten over it. As long as I lived in April Springs, I knew Max would be around, a constant I could depend on to amuse and annoy me. The thought of Max being gone was more than I was ready to accept.

"I'm sure he's all right," I said. "He's probably just snuggling up with his latest girlfriend, enjoying a chance for a snow day."

Though it was clear neither one of them really believed it, they indulged me by agreeing with my statement without contradiction or embellishment, a sure sign that both of them were holding back their true thoughts on Max's status. I didn't care. Unless I saw his body, I'd never believe that Max was dead, no matter how dire the circ.u.mstances.

My black mood was interrupted by the front door chime, and I wondered if the chief had come back for something else. That's when I saw a parade of parents and children enter the shop, and I felt the gloom suddenly vanish. There was laughter and smiles as they all piled in, and I felt like giving donuts away to match their mood, though the businesswoman in me knew better. I had a chance to serve my customers and make a nice profit today. Emma stepped behind the counter with me, and George faded back to a chair by one of the windows so he'd be out of the way.

"Who's first?" I asked as one of the dads approached. It was Harry Milner, married to one of my good customers, Terri. They had eight-year-old twin girls, and Terri and her friend Sandy often came by the donut shop after their children were in school. Sometimes on Sat.u.r.day mornings, Harry came by to pick up breakfast for his still-sleeping family.

He slapped two brand-new, crisp one-hundred-dollar bills on the counter and said, "Breakfast is on me, for everybody and anybody who walks through that door. If you run out, let me know and I'll settle up when I leave."

There were protests from the crowd of parents, though I noticed none of the kids were complaining.

Harry smiled at them all and said, "I just had a bit of luck in the stock market, and I want to share it with my friends. Surely no one's going to begrudge me that, are they?"

He was good. No one could protest, so Harry turned back to me. "As for me, I'll take a cup of coffee and a bearclaw." He hesitated, then said, "Cancel that. Make it hot chocolate."

"Do you still want the bearclaw?" I asked.

He grinned. "What do you think?" He started to rejoin his friends when he stopped and asked, "Is there any chance we can get some Christmas music in here? All this snow has me in the holiday spirit."

"Sure thing," I said, tuning the radio to a station in Charlotte that started their holiday tunes around Labor Day. It wasn't my usual background music for the donut shop, but then again, I didn't normally get two hundred dollars in orders either, so it was a day for surprises.

I got Harry a hot chocolate in my biggest mug, then heard shouts from the children, and told Emma, "We need another gallon of hot chocolate. And fast."

"I'm on it," she said. Emma was what pa.s.sed for barista at my place. I let her choose the daily coffee specials, order the products, and make the hot chocolate, though we never had a tremendous demand for it. I loved it myself, and was constantly asking Emma how she made hers so tasty, but so far, it was a secret she hadn't been willing to share with me.

"It'll be a few minutes for the hot chocolate," I said.

There were disappointed groans all around, then I added, "but in the meantime, you can all pick our your donuts, and by then we should be ready to serve you drinks. Let's see how many want hot chocolate? Raise your hands so I can get a count."

Every hand in the place went up, except George's. I asked, "Are you the lone holdout sticking with coffee?"

He nodded, and some of the kids gave him a look like he was crazy, which George chose to ignore. It was all I could do not to laugh, so I ducked back into the kitchen to give Emma the count.

She had an array of spices out on the counter, and it was pretty clear that I wasn't welcome in my own kitchen.

"Was there something you needed?" Emma asked as she tried to hide the selection from my gaze.

"I just wanted to tell you that we need sixteen hot chocolates," I said. "I had to be sure you made enough."

"There will be plenty," she said. "Don't worry about that."

"You know what? You'd better make it seventeen. I haven't had your hot chocolate in a while, either."

"I've got a feeling we'll need more than that, so I'm making a triple batch. Now shoo."

I hid my smile from her as I went back to the front.

"It's on its way," I said, and there were more whoops of delight, and not just from the children.

I loved the sounds and sights of people filling the shop. I had to find a special way to thank George for coming to get me. I wouldn't have missed a day like today for the world.

By eleven-thirty, we were out of hot chocolate, despite Emma's constant battle to keep up with the demand. I thought about closing early, but people kept streaming in, clamoring for a treat to celebrate the snow day. I was sure there were people holed up all over April Springs grumbling about the snow acc.u.mulation, but none of them came into Donut Hearts. I decided to leave the station tuned to Christmas music, at least until the day after the holiday. Carols were interspersed with orchestral music, and to my relief, everyone was safe from reindeer hit-and-runs, especially Grandma.

At noon, we locked our doors, with two donuts left in inventory, barely a cup of coffee left in the pot, and a bank deposit that needed an armed guard escort. I stuck it in our safe. It would easily keep there for another day.

All in all, it was a good day, one that I'd savor if it weren't for the fact that my ex-husband was missing, along with a woman I liked, but didn't really know all that well. I wondered if the chief had any luck tracking either one of them down yet. If he had, he wasn't sharing the information with me.

And of course, that left me wondering about Jake Bishop, and whether Chief Martin was going to ever get hold of him, or if he was going to try to handle things himself.

Honestly, I realized that it wasn't my job to worry about it. I was tired, and it was time to go home. I bagged up the last two donuts, grabbed my purse, and then left the shop, turning my back to lock the door.

As I did, I heard a disguised voice behind me say, "Give me the bag, and no one will get hurt."

SIMPLY MY BEST APPLE PIE.

These pies are great year round, but the best time to make them is when the apples are in season in the autumn. It's a quick and easy dessert that is always a hit. The crumb crust topping is wonderful. Enjoy a slice of pie with the coldest milk you can find!

INGREDIENTS.

* 8 or 9 inch pie crust, premade Filling * 12 cup granulated sugar * 3 tablespoons flour * 12 teaspoon nutmeg * 12 teaspoon cinnamon * Dash of salt * 56 cups thinly sliced firm, tart apples (Granny Smiths work well, so do Staymen) Topping * 1 cup flour * 12 cup brown sugar * 12 cup b.u.t.ter, room temperature DIRECTIONS.

Peel and core the apples, then cut into thin slices. In a bowl, sift together the sugar, flour, nutmeg, cinnamon, and salt, then stir this mixture into the apples until they are thoroughly coated. Add to sh.e.l.l, then in another bowl, combine the flour and brown sugar, then cut in the b.u.t.ter. The mix should be crumbly, and the b.u.t.ter still in small chunks. Add these to the top, then bake uncovered in a 425F oven for 3045 minutes, until the crust is golden brown and a b.u.t.ter knife slips into the top easily.

CHAPTER 4.

I started to hand my purse backward when I heard a laugh. "Not that bag. Who cares about money? I want the donuts."

I turned around and saw Grace grinning at me. "Those are for me, aren't they? I can't believe you bought it."

"You were very convincing," I said as I handed the bag of donuts over to her. "You're welcome to them. But surely you've had breakfast already."

She smiled and shrugged at the same time.

"Grace, are you telling me you just got up?"

"Of course not," she said as she peeked inside the bag. "I was just teasing. I've been up for hours. Your mother insisted I eat a full breakfast, and then she wouldn't let me leave until the snowplow came and dug you all out. I just now made a break for it."

"Sorry, I know how she can be sometimes."

"Are you kidding me? I love the way she pampers me."

I looked around Springs Drive and saw that I wasn't the only business open, though I had to believe mine was doing better than the rest of them. I was glad to see that Two Cows and a Moose-our local newsstand-was doing brisk business. I'd been in the other day getting a magazine, and saw that the proprietress-pretty and young Emily Hargraves-had adorned her beloved stuffed animals in Santa suits, from their shiny black boots to their red and white caps perched precariously on their heads, though Moose had presented a particular challenge for her because of his antlers. I thought she'd been crazy naming her business after her favorite three stuffed animals, but I had to admit, they were a crowd pleaser, perched on a shelf in a place of honor above the cash register. I couldn't wait to see the outfits Emily had planned for St. Patrick's Day.

"Let's get something to eat," I said. "It looks like The Boxcar is open."

"Sure, that sounds good."

"I know what my mother considers a balanced breakfast. The sausage pile has to match the stack of bacon on your plate, and the eggs outweigh them both. You've got to be stuffed, and I just gave you donuts."

She smiled. "Okay, so I'm not hungry. That doesn't mean I can't join you. I'll have coffee and keep you company while you eat. Come on, let's go."

We walked down the abandoned tracks, now covered with a layer of snow, toward The Boxcar grill.

Trish smiled at us as we ascended the stairs, then pointed at the Donut Hearts bag in Grace's hands. "You're not really going to bring food into a diner, are you?"

"No, ma'am," Grace said. "This is inventory that Suzanne had to liquidate, so I agreed to take it off her hands. Believe me, I'd never break your rules."

Trish's faked grimace broke into a smile. "Fine, but you'd better make sure that inventory stays in the bag while you're here."

"I can check it with you, if you'd like," Grace said. "I'm really too full to eat them anyway."

Trish laughed. "Then you came to the right place. I can see why a diner might appeal to you," she said.

"I'm here to keep Suzanne company," Grace said. As she handed Trish the donuts, she said, "Honestly, you're welcome to them."

She peeked inside the bag, then looked at me. "Do you mind, Suzanne?"

"Help yourself," I said. "But I thought no one could bring food to your diner?"

"I make the rules, I can break them," she said as she tucked the bag behind the counter.

As she led us to a free booth in back, Trish asked us in a lowered voice, "Have you heard the news?"

"About Max and Muriel being missing?" I said.

Grace grabbed my arm. "What? What happened now?"

Trish said, "Don't look at me. That's all I know. Suzanne, have you heard anything new?"

I shook my head as I slid onto the bench seat of the booth. "Just rumor and idle speculation."

Trish's eyes lit up. "That's what I like the best. What have you got?"

"Feed me first, and then I'll tell you," I said.

Trish shook her head in mock disgust. "I can't believe you're withholding information on me."

"Believe it," I said. "I'll have a turkey club with no tomato, fries, and a Diet c.o.ke."

"Diet?" Trish asked.

"I'm trying to cut back," I said.

"Diet it is." She turned to Grace. "Do you want anything?"

"Make it two diet c.o.kes," she said.