Page 5 of Done Dirty

“Don’t get too attached,” he said. “I talked them into it by telling them there might come a day when you’re not doing autopsies and your rebuilt lab won’t be available to the new coroner.”

“You giving my job away?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Just negotiating,” he said. “You have a new lab, don’t you?”

“Sneaky,” I said, approvingly. And then I sighed. “I need to get the funeral home back up and running. I have employees sitting on their hands while I’m waiting on the stupid insurance money. It’s a lot of pressure being someone’s boss. I feel responsible.”

“They’re not sitting on their thumbs,” Jack said. “Sheldon is picking up shifts at the Ale House, Emmy Lu is secretly changing the recipes for Tom’s donuts so he doesn’t go out of business, and Lily is doing rotations at the state crime lab. Everyone is fine.”

“Tom’s donuts are much better since Emmy Lu started making the dough,” I said. “I like them better than Lady Jane’s now.”

“Is that a hint?” he asked.

“I don’t think there are any hints about it,” I said. “I told you I want donuts. I wasn’t trying to be subtle.”

He laughed and passed by the sheriff’s office, and then he turned the corner toward the Donut Palace.

“You’re a good man,” I said, already imagining the hot sugar melting in my mouth.

“Parking downtown is getting ridiculous,” he said. Cars lined all the businesses and there were no empty spots to be seen.

“I’ll just hop out and run in,” I said. “Just circle the block and I’ll be quick.”

I hopped out of the car before he’d stopped all the way, waving at a car as I passed in front of it. I opened the door to the Donut Palace, and the little bell over the frame gave its usual half-hearted jingle.

The place looked different than it had a couple of months back. Gone were the folding chairs and the cracked laminate counter that had been there since Tom’s father ran things. Emmy Lu had gotten her hands on real bistro tables, a chalkboard menu written out in actual handwriting, and given the inside a fresh coat of paint. There were cute sayings stenciled on the walls and mismatched coffee mugs in bright colors. If Lady Jane’s was about bringing a little sophistication to King George County then the Donut Palace was about down-home comfort. Emmy Lu knew the people in this area better than anyone. And if she had anything to do with it, no one would be drinking out of Styrofoam on her watch.

The morning rush had thinned out, but wasn’t entirely gone. A couple of guys in work boots had claimed one of the bistro tables, and a woman with a stroller was parked by the window drinking a cup of coffee and writing in her journal. Emmy Lu was behind the counter boxing up a dozen for a man in a county water department shirt.

She glanced up when the bell jingled and smiled, dimples fluttering in her flushed cheeks. Emmy Lu was about a decade or so older than me and she’s what I always imagine Betty Crocker would look like if she were a real person. She’d gotten married right out of high school and had her first son six months later. She popped out four more boys in the following four years, and when her youngest graduated high school a few years ago her husband left her for someone half her age and double her cup size. We were all glad when she and Tom had started dating. She deserved a good guy, and Tom had always been that.

“There’s my favorite dead doctor,” she said.

“Are there others below me on that list?” I asked.

“It only matters who’s at the top.”

The water department guy looked back and forth between us then took his box and left. People reacted in different ways when they found out I spent most of my time around the dead.

Emmy Lu wiped her hands on her apron and said, “You want the usual?”

“Please tell me there are bear claws.”

“We’re plumb out. We’ve got glazed, chocolate, and a blueberry cake that nobody ever orders but Tom insists on me making.” She looked me over, head to toe, and whatever she saw made her frown. “Are you sleeping? Morning sickness?”

“And here I thought I was looking much better? Guess I need to break out the concealer.”

“You look beautiful as always,” she said. “But I’ve been pregnant five times. I can tell.”

“I promise I’m fine,” I said.

“Just make sure you’re taking your vitamins,” she said. “I never did. They made me throw up. But I hear they’re good for you and make your fingernails grow. You want chocolate glazed?”

“Make it a dozen.” I glanced at the coffee setup behind her. “And two coffees to go. Just black.”

She put the box together and said, “Tom’s out doing deliveries to local businesses. Between you and me, business picking up has been an answer to prayer with everything that happened with the funeral home. I’ve been grateful to have something to do with my free time.”

“You’ve really turned this place around,” I said.