The Donut Shop Murder by Suzanne Jenkins

Author:Suzanne Jenkins
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Morning rush hour traffic in progress downtown, Jill patiently sat bumper to bumper without putting the flashers on to get by, too tired to risk getting in an accident trying to squeeze around cars. Driving through the alley to get to her father’s grocery store, she pulled up to the rear door, and shut the engine off. Putting her head back, she closed her eyes for what felt like a full minute, but it was closer to fifteen.

The door opening startled her. “You going to sleep in the alley, or come inside for breakfast?” Gus Zannos asked in Greek.

“Papa, can’t I do both?” Jill asked, moaning. “I’m so tired.”

“Did you work all night?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered. “Don’t I look it?”

“You look very nice,” he said. “Come in, come in.”

Shutting the car door, he waited by the entrance to the back of the grocery while she forced herself to step out of the car.

“I saw your young woman on TV,” he said. “Her family is heartbroken, begging for anyone with information to come forward.”

“The case is pretty much settled, Papa,” she said. “But you didn’t hear it from me.”

“Wow, that was fast! Who did it?”

“A jealous mother, I think. We still have a little work to do. All I want right now is coffee and toast.”

“Sit down, sit down,” he said, leading her inside to a cluster of small tables surrounded by chairs situated in the rear of the store.

Collapsing into a chair, she’d sit there as long as it took to drink two cups of coffee and eat a plate of buttered, toasted Greek bread with olive oil, tomato, and feta. When she finished it, he brought her two pieces of baklava, the honey so fresh she swore she could hear bees buzzing. The familiar surroundings, a place where she spent most of her childhood and a good portion of her adult life, the comfort of the grocery store helped clarify the most muddled thoughts.

Although she’d never been to Greece, or had the desire to even leave Detroit, the store was Greece, Greek people, their food, language and culture, all rolled into one, slightly shabby place.

“The moment I step over that threshold, I feel like I can solve any problem,” she said, pointing to the back door. “Nothing is insurmountable.”

“That’s nice,” Gus answered, hovering over her with the pot of coffee. “It has the same effect on me.”

“Something’s nagging me about my case. It doesn’t make any sense why the boy’s mother would have so much animosity toward the victim. There’s a piece missing. It’s obvious, but alluding me.”

Without revealing important information, she gave her father just enough to satisfy his curiosity.

“What does your partner have to say?” Gus asked.

“We haven’t talked about it yet. Albert went home to see Roger before he left for work, and I came here before I went home to shower.”

“When you see him again, ask him,” Gus replied.

“I will,” she said, looking at her watch. “The mother should be waiting for us at the station.

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