Susan Gillard - Pistachio Lemon Glazed Murder

Heather brushed off her palms on her Donut Delights apron, and then shifted the massive tub of confectioners sugar to the side of the kitchen counter.

You see, she said, turning to Ken and Jung, who stood shoulder to shoulder, staring into the steel bowl before them. We have to get the combination of sour and sweet just right, or the donut wont taste as scrumptious as it should.

But what if we get the measurements wrong? I mean, are there any real measurements for this? Ken asked, taking a spoon from the counter and scooping up some of the glaze. He tasted it, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Jung dived for a spoon immediately.

I do this by taste and by eye because these are the first donuts my grandmother ever taught me how to bake. Pistachio Lemon Glazed donuts. Ill never forget my first bite. She shivered at the delicious memory. But youre going to want to do it by measurement at first, Heather replied, and then clicked her fingers. Ive got my old recipe book in my office desk. Ill go through and get it in a sec.

Ive never seen you use a recipe book before, Jung said, around a mouthful of glaze. Oh wow, this is so good it curls my toes.

Yeah, I memorized all the recipes long ago, but it was my grandmothers special book. Everything in it had sentimental value. She hadnt used a couple of the recipes yet, but with the looming news that a new donut store would open on the other side of town, the time mightve arrived.

Those were the recipes that Christa woman stole, right? Ken asked.

Heather sniffed. Thats right. Christas murder and the recipe thievery wasnt exactly her happiest memory. Heather shrugged and flashed her two assistants a smile. Ill get the book, and you two can print out the recipes.

I have an even better idea, Ken replied. Why dont we redo the recipe book? We could catalog the newest donuts youve created. Ill take the pictures, and then you can sell it someday if you ever wanna do that?

Heather clapped her hands together and chuckled. Ken always had the best ideas. Hed already started taking photos for the new Donut Delights website, set to go live in a week.

Ill be right back, Heather said, cheerfully. She hurried out of the kitchen, pausing to wave at Eva at her favorite spot by the front window. Sunlight streamed through the front of the store, playing across the golden boards in Donut Delights, refracted by the spotless glass display counters beneath the cash registers.

Rows upon rows of delectable treats waited there, and equally lengthy rows of customers lined up to purchase them.

Heather spared a smile for her store, her little dream come true, then strode through to her office.

She opened her bottom desk drawer, reached in and frowned. Her fingers scraped the wood base. What the ? Where was the recipe book? Shed definitely put it in her bottom drawer.

Shed wanted to keep it close after whatd happened with Christa, so shed moved it out of the kitchen and into the office.

Huh, Heather said, maybe I moved it. She opened the middle drawer, then the top. A couple of papers and files peered up at her. Nothing else.

Her grandmothers recipe book, leather bound, worn and printed with gold lettering, had disappeared.

Heathers stomach sank. Not again, she muttered. This cant be happening.

She glanced around the office and lost her breath. The top window was ajar, and a warm summer breeze swept through, disturbing the pale, voluminous curtains.

Heather pressed her lips together and wriggled her nose. Someone had stolen her recipe book for the second time. She hadnt taken it home; she hadnt moved it. The last time shed opened that drawer had been weeks ago, to look up the American Dream donut recipe for Memorial Day.

Heather lurched out of the office, grinding her teeth. She marched into the kitchen, startling Ken and Jung from their second helping of donut glaze.

Its gone, she pronounced. The recipe book is gone, and I bet I know who stole it.

Who? Her assistants asked in unison, mouths forming perfect os of surprise.

That new baker, the bouncer from Club Liquid. Geoff Lawless. The news that hed found a premises for his donut shop had broken shortly after the 4th of July celebrations.

Now that you mention it, Ken said, I did see him hanging around outside earlier. I was taking out the trash, and I saw him peering down the side alley at me.

Ugh, unbelievable, Heather said. Well, I could teach you the basic measurements for the Pistachio Lemon Glazeds, but thats not the point. That book has value to me. Ive got to get it back.

What are you gonna do, boss? Jung asked.

Im going to go over there and get my book back, she replied, raising her chin. You guys stay here and work on the batter for the donuts. Its a simple vanilla donut mix, you know the one, right?

Right, they replied, again, perfectly in time. That was what came from being best friends.

Good. Ill be back in about a half hour, Heather said. She turned on her heel and marched out of the kitchen, determination grumbling in her gut. Though that mightve been the prospect of the donuts she hadnt had breakfast yet.

Everything okay, boss? Angelica called, from behind the counter.

It will be, Heather replied, putting up her friendliest smile. She didnt want to unsettle her customers or her staff. No way would she allow Geoff Lawless to get the better of her little donut shop.

Heather was out the door and at her car, still with her sugar dusted apron tied in place, in a matter of minutes.

Here I come, Geoff, youd better have a brilliant excuse, Heather murmured, to herself. She was on the case and this time, it was personal.