Read Online Custard Crime: Donut Mystery #14 (The Donut Mysteries) by Jessica Beck - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jessica Beck
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in mind?” Grace asked me.
“Well, when Momma was talking, she mentioned something
that I think Jake might have missed.”
“What’s that?”
“She told us that Beatrice shopped at a yarn shop in
Union Square near her attorney’s office. I wonder if there’s any chance that she’s there right now?”
“Shouldn’t you give Jake a heads-up about that?” she
asked me.
“I’m as willing to cooperate with the police as the
next gal, but he heard it just as clearly as I did. As far as I’m concerned, that yarn shop
is fair game.”
“Then let’s go to Union Square,” Grace said.
Chapter 9
“Should we pop into Napoli’s and say hello while
we’re so close?” Grace asked as we pulled into a parking space in front of the
Yarn Barn. The business was right across
the street from my favorite Italian restaurant, a charming little establishment
owned by Angelica DeAngelis and her lovely daughters.
“We’d better stick to the business at hand,” I
said. “After all, Beatrice might
not even be inside.”
“If she’s not, we could always ask Angelica if she
has any ideas.”
“Grace, did you skip lunch again?” My best friend was notorious for working
through her noon meal in order to finish her work early. As for me, I wouldn’t consciously skip a
meal on a bet.
“I could eat,” she acknowledged.
“Then we’ll take care of your tummy later, but first
we have to find Beatrice. I hope she’s
in there.”
“So do I,” Grace said. “After we find her, then I can satisfy
my appetite.”
Unfortunately, the yarn shop was devoid of customers.
A lone employee was restocking brightly colored yarn
skeins, but she stopped when we walked in. “May I help you?”
“No, thanks,” Grace said as she started to leave.
“Hang on a second,” I told her, and then I turned back
to the clerk. “Has Beatrice Ashe
been here today by any chance?”
“You missed her by half an hour,” the woman
said. “Are you friends of hers?”
“Yes,” I said at the exact time that Grace answered,
“No.”
“Well, you need to make up your minds,” the clerk
said good-naturedly.
“I am, but she hasn’t met Beatrice yet,” I said. “That’s why we came in here. We were hoping to remedy that.”
“Then try Napoli’s,” the woman said. “I’ll bet she’s still there.”
“Thank you,” I said as Grace and I hurried out.
“See? My
instincts were right,” my best friend said with a grin. “I told you that we should have gone to
Napoli’s first.”
“Admit it. You just got lucky,” I said happily as we headed for the restaurant.
“You know how I feel about luck,” she replied. “Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than
good.”
“I’d rather be both if I get the choice.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Grace asked as an older woman with a
bag from the yarn shop exited the restaurant. “Is that her?”
“It is,” I said as we approached her. “Hi, Beatrice. Do you have a second?”
“You look familiar, but I’m not sure where I know you
from,” she said suspiciously as she held her purse tightly against her body.
We’d met a few times, but evidently I hadn’t made all
that big an impression on her. “I’m
Dorothea Hart’s daughter, Suzanne, and this is my friend, Grace Gauge.”
That loosened Beatrice up. “Your mother drives a hard bargain, but
I like her.”
“I do, too, but I know exactly what you mean.”
“How could you possibly know that?” she asked me.
“Try getting her to agree to let you go to a school dance
with Mitchell Bloom when you’re sixteen years old,” I said with a grin. “By the time we got out of there, she made
Mitchell promise everything but to carry me home piggyback. He was so intimidated by her that I was
home a good hour before my curfew.”
“I don’t have any trouble believing that. The question begs itself to be asked,
were you two
“Well, when Momma was talking, she mentioned something
that I think Jake might have missed.”
“What’s that?”
“She told us that Beatrice shopped at a yarn shop in
Union Square near her attorney’s office. I wonder if there’s any chance that she’s there right now?”
“Shouldn’t you give Jake a heads-up about that?” she
asked me.
“I’m as willing to cooperate with the police as the
next gal, but he heard it just as clearly as I did. As far as I’m concerned, that yarn shop
is fair game.”
“Then let’s go to Union Square,” Grace said.
Chapter 9
“Should we pop into Napoli’s and say hello while
we’re so close?” Grace asked as we pulled into a parking space in front of the
Yarn Barn. The business was right across
the street from my favorite Italian restaurant, a charming little establishment
owned by Angelica DeAngelis and her lovely daughters.
“We’d better stick to the business at hand,” I
said. “After all, Beatrice might
not even be inside.”
“If she’s not, we could always ask Angelica if she
has any ideas.”
“Grace, did you skip lunch again?” My best friend was notorious for working
through her noon meal in order to finish her work early. As for me, I wouldn’t consciously skip a
meal on a bet.
“I could eat,” she acknowledged.
“Then we’ll take care of your tummy later, but first
we have to find Beatrice. I hope she’s
in there.”
“So do I,” Grace said. “After we find her, then I can satisfy
my appetite.”
Unfortunately, the yarn shop was devoid of customers.
A lone employee was restocking brightly colored yarn
skeins, but she stopped when we walked in. “May I help you?”
“No, thanks,” Grace said as she started to leave.
“Hang on a second,” I told her, and then I turned back
to the clerk. “Has Beatrice Ashe
been here today by any chance?”
“You missed her by half an hour,” the woman
said. “Are you friends of hers?”
“Yes,” I said at the exact time that Grace answered,
“No.”
“Well, you need to make up your minds,” the clerk
said good-naturedly.
“I am, but she hasn’t met Beatrice yet,” I said. “That’s why we came in here. We were hoping to remedy that.”
“Then try Napoli’s,” the woman said. “I’ll bet she’s still there.”
“Thank you,” I said as Grace and I hurried out.
“See? My
instincts were right,” my best friend said with a grin. “I told you that we should have gone to
Napoli’s first.”
“Admit it. You just got lucky,” I said happily as we headed for the restaurant.
“You know how I feel about luck,” she replied. “Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than
good.”
“I’d rather be both if I get the choice.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Grace asked as an older woman with a
bag from the yarn shop exited the restaurant. “Is that her?”
“It is,” I said as we approached her. “Hi, Beatrice. Do you have a second?”
“You look familiar, but I’m not sure where I know you
from,” she said suspiciously as she held her purse tightly against her body.
We’d met a few times, but evidently I hadn’t made all
that big an impression on her. “I’m
Dorothea Hart’s daughter, Suzanne, and this is my friend, Grace Gauge.”
That loosened Beatrice up. “Your mother drives a hard bargain, but
I like her.”
“I do, too, but I know exactly what you mean.”
“How could you possibly know that?” she asked me.
“Try getting her to agree to let you go to a school dance
with Mitchell Bloom when you’re sixteen years old,” I said with a grin. “By the time we got out of there, she made
Mitchell promise everything but to carry me home piggyback. He was so intimidated by her that I was
home a good hour before my curfew.”
“I don’t have any trouble believing that. The question begs itself to be asked,
were you two
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