Free Strawberry Cream Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 1 by Susan Gillard

dialed before.
     
    9-1-1.
     
    It seemed an eternity before someone answered, though it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds.  “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” the voice asked.
     
    “I’ve been poisoned,” Heather sobbed.  “Cyanide poisoning.  And I’ve shot Michelle!”
     
    “Where are you?” the voice asked.
     
    Heather must have given her address, because the voice was saying, “Ma’am, I’m sending officers right now.  I need you to put the gun down and meet them at the door.  Can you do that?”
     
    No , she thought.  No, I can’t.  It’s too dark.
     
    And then the darkness swallowed her.

Chapter 10
     
    Into the silent darkness pulsed sounds and movements and lights.  Heather was unable to make sense of any of them.  She heard unfamiliar voices, sensed movement, felt something being placed over her face, and sucked in air.  Felt strong hands lifting her up and placing her on something soft instead of the hard kitchen tile.
     
    There was movement, then, rushing, swaying movement.  Then one long sound that skirled up and down over and over and over.  All of these things interspersed with moments of silent darkness and constant, cramping pain.
     
    She tried to think, tried to figure out what was happening.  Realized that she must be in an ambulance on the way to the hospital.  Wondered if Michelle was in the same ambulance.  Forced her eyes open and saw that she was alone, except for the EMT leaning over her.
     
    “You’re okay,” he said, gently smoothing back her hair from her forehead.  “You’re on the way to the hospital, and you’re going to get help.”
     
    Something about the low, patient tone of his voice calmed her.  Maybe everything really would be all right.  Heather closed her eyes and let the darkness suck her under.
     
    ***
     
    She opened her eyes to see Amy sitting in a chair next to her, smiling.  “Hey, sleeping beauty,” Amy said.
     
    “Amy?” Heather said.
    “In the flesh,” Amy said, spooning something from a pitcher and extending the spoon toward her.  “Here.  Eat this.”
     
    “I guess I’m in the hospital,” Heather mumbled.
     
    “Yep.  They wanted to keep you here a little while for observation.  I tried to tell them a little cyanide couldn’t keep you down, but you know how medical professionals are.  They’re over-cautious.”
     
    Heather opened her mouth as Amy offered her another ice chip.  She swallowed and let the coolness coat her dry throat.
     
    “It was the donut,” she said.
     
    Amy wasn’t smiling anymore.  “I know,” she said.  “Apparently, Michelle did the same thing she did to you.  Brought along another donut that was the same kind, and placed the poison-free donut next to Christa’s body to throw off the police.  And it worked, too.  For about 48 hours.  Until you figured it out.”
     
    Heather thought back to Michelle’s arrival at her house.  To when they sat down at the computer desk together.  To when she had reached for the donut, but Michelle had opened the bag and handed her one.  “She wanted to make sure I got the right donut,” Heather said.
     
    “What do you mean?”
     
    “I reached for the bag,” Heather said.  Her tongue felt thick, and she found it difficult to string words together.  “She got it first.  Made sure I took the donut with the cyanide.”  She paused.  “Am I making sense?”
     
    “Mostly,” Amy said.  “But I guess you’re entitled to be a little confusing.”
    Heather glanced at the thin, salmon-covered blanket.  Looked up at Amy’s face.  Asked the question she didn’t want to ask.  “How’s Michelle?”
     
    “She’s dead,” Amy said. 
     
    Heather raised her eyes to the ceiling.  Started counting ceiling tiles.  Wondered why Michelle’s death bothered her so much, seeing as how Michelle had tried to kill her.
     
    “Here,” Amy said, gently patting the area beneath Heather’s eyes with a Kleenex to absorb