Doughnuts & Deadly Schemes - Culinary Competition Mystery #3

Chapter 12

(Amy)

Amy sprinkled quinoa over the chunks of sweet peppers. The Mason jar salads were like a food version of sand paintings. Jagged stripes of black olives, green onions, yellow corn, orange peppers, and beige quinoa topped off with a thick layer of vibrant green shredded romaine lettuce. The jars of super healthy whole grains mixed with rainbow-colored veggies were another one of Amy's contributions to the wedding. Carla was surrounded by sick people at the hospital. The added anxiety of planning the nuptials put her at even more of a risk of becoming sick herself. Loading Carla up with nutrient-dense salads would hopefully fend off any nasty, honeymoon-ruining viruses.

It was almost 10:00 p.m., but Amy was nowhere close to settling down for bed. Instead, she was using the repetitious tasks of chopping vegetables and assembling salads to try to settle her mind. She knew for certain that three downtown businesses were being targeted by the ruthless extortionist. None of them had any idea why. Or who was sending the threats. It didn't seem to be some hacker on the other side of the world playing stupid computer tricks for fun. Someone local was apparently behind the cyber-attacks since the businesses were being physically broken into. And that person wasn't afraid to kill to get their point across.

Amy finished packing the Mason jars and screwed on the lids. She cradled four of the glass containers in her arms to ferry them to the refrigerator. Her cell phone, sitting on the charger dock on the small desk in the corner of the kitchen, began playing "Crazy" by Patsy Cline. The jars clanked together as Amy struggled to set them back down on the counter without casualties. Her heartbeat whooshed in her ears. It was Carla's ring tone. She never called that late unless something was wrong.

A few minutes later, Amy hung up the phone. Something was totally wrong, but not with Carla. Shepler was heading to Sophie's duplex, and he wanted Amy's help. Someone had broken into her home. He was on his way to do detective duties by himself, in plain clothes, because Sophie was too scared of the consequences of having uniformed officers show up. Amy had been enlisted to help calm down Sophie.

"Alex!" Amy called as she raced through the house looking for her husband. He wasn't in his office, so she widened her search to the den. She found him sleeping in his leather recliner, a movie with slime-spewing aliens playing on the big-screen TV. "Alex! I need to go to Sophie's house."

His arms and legs jerked as if he was being zapped with one of the alien's ray guns. "What? What's going on?"

"Sophie's apartment was broken into. Shepler's going there, but he had Carla call me so I could meet him to take care of Sophie while he looks around for clues."

He ground his fists into his eyes. "Why is Shepler investigating a break-in?"

Amy looked at the Roman numerals on the giant, round clock on the wall. The over-sized timepiece was the only item she had been allowed to pick out for the den, Alex's domain. She didn't have much time to explain. Sophie needed her. "Because it is most likely connected to Luke Crowe's murder."

Alex flipped down the footrest of the chair and stood up. He knew that she was trying to help Shepler out, as she had during several of his other murder investigations. "That's not good. Let me drive you there. I don't like that you're so closely involved with another homicide."

She shook her head. "You were just sound asleep while the TV was blaring. Obviously you're tired. Besides, Sophie doesn't know you very well. It might make her more upset having a stranger hanging around when the whole point of me going is to try to comfort her. Shepler is probably there already. I promise I'll be careful."