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answer to that question without even having to think about it.   “Sorry, but I’ve got donuts to make.”
    “Sure, I just bet you do,” he said.   “Thanks for the coffee.”
    “You’re most welcome.   And, Chief?”
    “Yes?”
    “Good luck with Momma.   I have a hunch you’re going to need it.”
    “I’m afraid that you’re right.”

 
    I tried to linger at the crime scene, but the chief wouldn’t leave until I was safely locked back in my donut shop.   I didn’t have much choice, so I got started with the morning’s cake donuts.   The entire time I worked, I kept wondering where Momma had been the night before, and just how long she’d been in bed when I woke up.   I sincerely hoped that she didn’t need me for an alibi.   It wasn’t that I wouldn’t lie for her; if it meant saving her, I had no compunction about that, but I had a hunch she wouldn’t let me perjure myself.
    Police cars with their flashing lights were still filling the night when Emma walked into the shop.   “What’s going on out there?”
    “There was a murder right beside the clock,” I said.
    My assistant barely hesitated a second before she asked, “Can I call Dad?”
    Emma’s father owned and ran the town’s newspaper, and he paid for every tip he received, whether it was from his daughter or not.   Why shouldn’t Emma get a little extra cash from this mess?   “Go ahead, but I don’t have any of the details.”
    “That’s okay, he’ll get them on his own,” she said, and then she hurriedly called him.
    I was afraid that he’d do just as Emma had suggested, and that my family, and our good name, was about to get another bit of bad press.   I just hoped that he never found out everything there was to know about the ties the murder victim had to the Harts.

 
    Emma and I kept making donuts as the morning wore on, although I couldn’t help but stare at the clock every thirty seconds as we worked.   Why hadn’t Momma called me yet?   Was the chief still grilling her about the murder, despite their relationship?   Would he have to bring someone else in to work on the case?   I had mixed feelings about the prospect of Jake coming to town to investigate my family again.   It hadn’t been all that good an experience the last time that he’d done it, and I had no desire for it to happen again.
    The phone finally rang, and I picked it up quickly, despite the dough still stuck to my hands.
    “Momma?” I asked.   “Are you okay?”   As much as I’d wanted to, I couldn’t keep the concern I was feeling for her out of my voice.
    “It’s all right, Suzanne,” my mother said in that soothing tone she used when she knew that I was troubled by something.   “Phillip just left.”
    “What happened?   Did you know that this guy was in town?   Did he talk to you about Daddy, too?”
    Momma hesitated a moment, and then she confessed, “That’s where I was yesterday evening.   Apparently after he spoke with you at the donut shop, he decided that he’d be better off going straight to the source.”
    “It’s not true, is it, what he said about Daddy?”
    “Suzanne, we need to have a conversation about this, but I don’t want to do it over the telephone.”
    I felt my heart stop.   “Are you telling me that he really did it?”
    “I don’t know,” she answered flatly.   The words must have been as hard for her to say as they were for me to hear.
    “Momma, how could you not know?”
    “Suzanne, I’ll be there in four minutes.   We can discuss it when I arrive.”
    My mother hung up, and as I put my phone on the counter so I could wash my hands, Emma said, “It might just be me, but that did not sound good.”
    I looked sternly at my assistant as I said, “You didn’t hear anything just now, Emma, so there’s nothing you need to share with your father, is there?”
    Emma looked upset by my question, but it needed to be voiced nonetheless.   “Suzanne, I would never betray your