Strawberry Cream Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 1 by Susan Gillard Page B

been in town long.  But apparently he and your former assistant go way back.  Used to date.  She never mentioned him to you?”
     
    “No,” Heather said.  “Christa never really talked about her personal life.” 
     
    “Hmm,” Shepherd said, then continued, “Ms. Fordyce had a brother named William.”
    “William Edwin Fordyce the Third,” Heather offered.  “Billy.  The heir apparent to the family fortune—if he could stay out of rehab long enough.”
     
    “How many times had he been to rehab?”
     
    “Four or five.  I don’t know.”
     
    “When was the last time he was in rehab?”
     
    “He got out a couple months ago, I think,” Heather said.  “Right about the time I fired Christa.”
     
    “Why did you fire her?”
     
    “I told you she stole my recipes, took everything she learned, and opened a shop of her own,” Heather said.  “Or at least, it was supposed to open today.  I guess it won’t, now.” 
     
    “Guess not,” Shepherd said. “And you didn’t find out about this until two months before the grand opening?”
     
    “It was on the other side of town, and I’m not over there that much,” Heather said.  “Christa somehow kept it a secret until one day, she and I were both working here, and one of our customers—one of my customers—said, ‘Hey, aren’t you the same lady I saw at that other donut shop?  The one by the park where the sign was going up?’  And I’m like, ‘What donut shop by the park?’  And Christa was just standing there with this deer-in-the-headlights look.  So the customer says, ‘I just thought maybe you worked both places.’”  Heather snorted.  “Turns out she was working both places.”
     
    “Must have been a shock,” the detective said, flipping his notebook closed and sliding it back in a pocket.
     
    “It was.”
     
    “Must have made you angry,” he said.
    “Look, I don’t know what you’re getting at,” Heather said.  “Yes, I was angry!  Who wouldn’t be?  But I never wished her ill.” 
     
    “Thank you for your time, Ms. Janke,” Shepherd said, standing up and pulling a small, white rectangle from his wallet.  “Here’s my card.  Call me if you think of anything.”
     
    “I hope you got whatever it was that you think you were looking for,” Heather said, tossing the card into a desk drawer and sliding it shut.
     
    Shepherd paused, his hand on the doorknob.  “Oh, I did,” he said.  “By the way—you don’t have any plans to leave town any time soon, do you?”
     
    Heather’s mouth dropped open.
     
    Shepherd gave her a polite smile, pulled the door open, and was gone.

Chapter 2
     
    “What was that all about?”  Michelle stood in the doorway to Heather’s office, frowning.
     
    “Christa was found dead in her new donut shop last night,” Heather said bluntly.
     
    Michelle’s eyes went wide.  Her hand covered her open mouth.
     
    “I can’t believe it, either,” Heather said.  “I mean, it’s not exactly like we were friends anymore, but still…”
     
    “What happened?” Michelle asked.
    “They don’t know,” Heather said.  “Apparently, she was found on the floor near one of the tables in the customer section of the shop.  There was a half-eaten donut on the floor next to her, and there were donut crumbs on her lips.”
     
    “That doesn’t sound like Christa,” Michelle said.
     
    “I know.  She would never—”  Heather broke off and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger.  She rubbed at the ache that was starting to form there.
     
    “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” Michelle suggested.  “Maricela and I can handle things here.”
     
    “I think I will,” Heather said, standing up and reaching for her purse on the back corner of her desk.  “You’re sure you guys will be okay?”
    “We’ll be fine,” Michelle said.  “Go get some rest.”
     
    “Thanks,” Heather said.  She gave Michelle a