Evil Eclairs Read Online Free PDF Page B

secrets, and who might have reason to want him dead, it had to be her. As a matter of fact, it might not be a bad idea to give her a call and set up an appointment. Maybe I could take her to lunch at the Boxcar Grill later.
    I was dialing the station’s number when I put the telephone down. A new wave of customers was coming in, and I had to delay my investigation into Lester’s demise. I had a job to do, and it was selling donuts. The investigation would have to wait.
    After selling a few random dozen donuts, I decided to make that call while I had the chance.
    I wasn’t sure she’d still be at the station, but it was the only number I had for Cara. To my relief, she picked up on the fourth ring.
    “Hey, Cara. It’s Suzanne Hart. I was wondering if you might be free for lunch. It’s my treat.”
    “I really can’t afford to say no to a free lunch. I just found out the station manager is seriously thinking about letting me go.”
    “I’m so sorry,” I said.
    “It wasn’t like I wasn’t expecting it. I’m not sure what I’m going to do now. Maybe I can get the new talent to keep me on.”
    “The lunch offer isn’t exactly free,” I admitted, my conscience getting the better of me. “I’d like to grill you about Lester.”
    “Ugh. Do I have to? I’ve been talking to the police chief most of the morning.”
    “Of course not,” I said. “I’ll buy you lunch anyway. How’s the Boxcar sound around twelve-fifteen?”
    “That would be great. See you there. And Suzanne? I’ll answer your questions. You’ve got a stake in this, too, don’t you?”
    “More than I’d like.”
    I was nearly finished for the day as the clock approached noon when a heavyset man dressed in a full-blown clown outfit came in the door. The bright orange fright wig, the greasepainted face, the red rubber ball nose, and the garish outfit gave me the creeps from the second I saw him walking toward the shop in his floppy red oversized shoes.
    “Sorry. We’re all out of donuts,” I said before he could place an order.
    “Come on. The display case has plenty left,” he said in a whiny voice. I saw a badge on his costume that declared that his name was Officer Zippy. “You can’t discriminate against anyone, not even clowns.”
    I tapped a sign behind the counter and read it to him. “We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone.”
    “What have you got against clowns, lady?”
    I wasn’t about to tell him that one of his brethren had ruined my fourth birthday party by scaring the stuffing out of me. I grabbed a glazed donut, shoved it in a bag, and then pushed it toward him. “Here, take this. You can’t eat it in here, though.”
    He shook his head in clear disgust, but he still took the bag and left. I wasn’t sure how my customers would react, but I was gratified to hear them applauding as soon as Zippy was gone.
    “Sorry about that,” I said.
    “Are you kidding me?” a heavyset trucker asked. “If he’d sat down, I was out of here. Those guys give me the jitters.”
    Another diner said, “I don’t even think he had a gig. I’m guessing he dresses that way just for fun.”
    Emma came out at the sound of the commotion. “Is something going on? What did I miss?”
    “Not much. Some clown came in here and tried to buy a donut,” I said. There was general laughter around the shop at that.
    Emma looked perplexed. “What’s so funny about that? We get clowns in here all the time.”
    I couldn’t help smiling. “When I say a clown, I mean a clown: makeup, fright wig, and red nose. I threw him out.”
    The disappointment was clear on her face. “Why did you do that? I happen to love clowns.”
    There was a chorus of boos generated from her announcement, and Emma shook her head in confusion as she disappeared back into the kitchen. It was no wonder she preferred to stay in the kitchen where life made more sense to her. I thought she was missing out on all the fun.
    By the time we were ready to close, there