"Aren't you afraid your boss will fire you for giving out free stuff?"

I smiled at him. "No, she can't live without me. See you tomorrow."

"If I'm still in town, I'll take you up on it," he said with a smile as he left.

I hastily scrawled a note on the front door that told any more customers that we'd closed early, then started off for the hardware store. It was time to speak with Burt and find out what he had to say about his clandestine relationship with Peg Masterson.

"Is Burt around?" I asked a clerk as I walked into Gentry Mercantile & Hardware. The building was ancient, sporting weathered bricks outside and scarred wooden floors within, everything testifying to over a hundred years of service. Besides a typical hardware store's usual fare of items for sale like bins of nuts and bolts, metal baskets brimming with nails, and garden tools hung like stockings at Christmas, Burt also catered to a clientele that liked model trains, dollhouses, and hobby kits for just about every kind of enthusiast that existed. It was the most eclectic place I'd ever been in my life, and I usually reveled in the chance to visit it, but today was lacking any real joy.

"He's back in his office, Suzanne," the young man said. It took me a second to recognize him.

"Pete? I thought you were still in school." Pete Evans was a tall, gangly blond, though he was finally starting to fill out.

"No, ma'am. I graduated in June, and started work here full-time a week later."

"How are your folks?"

"They're fine. I'll tell them you asked about them."

"Please do," I said. "I'll see you later."

As I walked back to Burt's office, I marveled at how time seemed to fly by. With every year I got older, the speed seemed to increase, and I wondered how it would feel in twenty or thirty years. I could remember Pete playing one of the shepherds in the town's Nativity Scene the year they'd decided to use real animals. The donkey had taken off in the middle of the play, and the sheep, being true to their nature, had followed suit. There was a mad rush to corral them all, but by the time they were gathered together again, the players rushed through an abbreviated version of the approved script, and everyone met in the basement of City Hall for hot chocolate and Christmas cookies.

Had that really been six years ago?

I tried to clear my mind of those images from the past and focus on the present. I needed to talk to Burt, not as an old friend, but as a man who just might have committed murder, though I still couldn't bring myself to believe it.

"Burt, do you have a second?" I asked as I leaned in through his open office door. Burt Gentry was nearing sixty, and his thick red hair was clearly still a source of pride to him. Burt was still a handsome man, and from some old photos he had posted in his office, he'd been a real heartbreaker back in his youth.

"Suzanne, what brings you by? You didn't close the donut shop early just to talk to me, did you?"

"No, believe it or not, I sold out my entire stock today."

He grinned as he leaned back in his chair, an old wooden roller with arms that bore the scars of its years. "I wish I could pull that off. I'd be on the next plane headed for the Florida Keys if I could clear my inventory."

"Really? You don't seem the type to just pick up and go," I said.

"The wanderlust bug bites me every now and then, but I can't imagine living anywhere but our little part of North Carolina."

"I can't either. Even when bad things happen here."

Burt sat back up in his chair. "That's a pretty awkward segue into what happened, isn't it? I can't believe she's gone."

"You knew each other pretty well, from what I've heard around town," I said, carefully studying his expression as I spoke. If he was hiding something, though, I couldn't see it.

He chuckled softly. "Folks like to talk, don't they?"

"Is it true? Did she break up with you recently?"

That got his attention. "Is that what they're saying? I shouldn't be surprised. The rumor mill never was more than half right on its best day."

"What's the truth, then?"

Burt rubbed his forehead, then asked gently, "Why are you so concerned about it? It doesn't really involve you, does it?"

Though his words were spoken softly, there was an underlying edge to them, not of anger or guilt, but of animosity.

"She was killed with one of my donuts," I said. "I've got a stake in this if I'm going to clear my name and save my business."

"I thought you said you sold out today," he said as he played with a bit of raw copper no bigger than a quarter that was sitting on his desk. "Business couldn't have been hurt that much."

I shrugged. "That's today, when my friends came out in force to support me, but what happens tomorrow, or the next day? Where am I going to be if this doesn't get wrapped up quickly? I can't afford to wait for the police to solve it."

Burt nodded, his gaze still drawn to the copper. "How about your young man? I understand he came back to town yesterday. Surely he's doing his best to clear you of suspicion."

Burt had somehow managed to shift the conversation from himself to me, and it was time to turn it back.

I decided to ignore the statement. "Which part of the town gossip isn't true, then? Did you break up with Peg, or were you even dating?"

Burt shook his head. "I never cared for that word, dating. It doesn't seem to fit two seniors spending time together, does it? Peg and I had been seeing each other, though it was all quite casual. It ended amicably enough, though."

"What happened?"

For a second, it appeared as though he wasn't going to answer the question, but after a moment, he said, "I met someone else, and that was that."

"Who was it?"

Burt shook his head. "Suzanne, I'm not the type of man to kiss and tell. I never have been, and I'm not about to start now."

"All I'm looking for is a name," I said, pressing him a little harder than I liked.

"Well, you're not going to get it from me," he said as he stood. The genial old man I'd known so many years was gone completely now. I'd somehow made him mad enough to drop his "aw shucks" demeanor.

It was pretty clear the interview was over, and I was about to leave when Pete came back to the office. "Burt, Marge is on the phone. She wants to know if you're still coming over for dinner tonight."

Burt looked mad enough to spit nails. "Pete, who's at the front register?"

"I am," the young man said.

"Really? Cause it looks to me like you're standing back in my office."

"Sorry. I'll get right back on it," he said.

After Pete was gone, Burt looked at me and smiled a little. "I don't suppose there's a chance in the world you missed that, is there?"

"Sorry, I don't want to get Pete in trouble, but it was kind of hard not to hear. Marge? Really?"

"She's a fine woman, a nice person to spend some time with, and a pretty good cook. I make her laugh, so I bring something to the table myself. Suzanne, we're in our sixties, we're not dead."

"I never said you were," I said.

"Don't bother her with your questions," Burt said as we walked out of his office together. "She's a little more sensitive than I am about being grilled about a murder."

"I wasn't grilling you," I said hastily, though that was exactly what I had been doing.

He just laughed. "Then why do I feel like I've been under your microscope since you walked in? Let me put your mind at ease. I didn't do it, and neither did Marge."

"Thanks for your time," I said as we reached the front door.

"So, I'm trusting you'll drop this?"

I gave him my best smile. "There's not a chance in the world of that happening, and you know it."

Burt returned my grin with one of his own. "No, I didn't figure there was. You always were a stubborn little girl."

"Just think how much truer that is now that I'm a full grown woman," I said.

Burt just nodded, and I walked back to Donut Hearts to meet up with George. I'd learned something valuable from our conversation, that Burt had indeed been dating Peg. I hadn't known he'd taken up with Marge until Pete had spilled it, and that added something else to the mix. Was Burt telling the truth? I couldn't imagine him lying to me, but then again, I couldn't see him as a cold-blooded killer either, and that was a possibility I couldn't afford to ignore. He certainly had access to plenty of different poisons in his hardware store, and no one would miss the slight quantity used to kill Peg. But what was his motive? If he'd dumped her, he had no reason to kill her. But what if she'd dumped him, and he'd felt more rage and anger than he'd showed me? I'd seen a hard edge to him I'd never noticed before. Could there be more of that he kept hidden from the world? Could he have killed her out of a sense of betrayal?

I'd never really thought that someone in his sixties could get so heartbroken that they might commit murder, but added years didn't necessarily mean more patience, more understanding, or better control over emotions. Whether he liked it or not, Burt had to stay on my list of suspects until I could confirm his version of things. Marge had to be added to the list as well, no matter how much I liked her. If Peg was a rival, and Marge was afraid of losing her boyfriend, it might drive her to do something desperate. I'd just added two people I genuinely liked to my list of suspects, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I had a visitor waiting for me outside of Donut Hearts. I almost turned around in time, but it was too late to get away. Jake spotted me before I could duck into a shop, but I was in no mood to see him. At least the rain had finally stopped.

"Hang on a second," he said. "I need to talk to you."

"What's going on, Jake?"

He stared at me a few seconds, then said softly, "I just came across some information I thought you might like to know. None of the donuts the police pulled had any traces of poison in them."

It was a relief to have my belief confirmed. "Thanks for letting me know," I said. "I knew in my heart that someone doctored it after it left my shop."

Jake stood closer and said, "You know that, and I do too, but now it's official. I came by and saw you'd closed up early. What happened, did everyone stay away?"

I smiled at him, remembering the warm glow of having my friends and customers embrace me earlier. "No, as a matter of fact, I sold out my entire morning's production in record time," I said.

"Good for you," Jake said. "Listen, don't be so hard on me, okay? I care about you. This is hard for me, harder than you can imagine."

It was the most tender thing he'd ever said to me, and from the hurt look in his eyes, I could see that he meant it.

I touched his cheek lightly. "I'm sorry if I've been testy with you. You just can't imagine how much I need you as a boyfriend right now, and not as a state police inspector."

"I wish I could be both," he said.

"But we both know how impossible that is," I replied.

"I promise that as soon as this investigation is over, we'll make time for each other."

I was about to respond when I heard a car horn. It was Grace, and as she parked and approached us, I turned back to Jake, but the moment between us had passed.

"Hello, Jake," Grace said.

"Grace," he said, then turned to me. "I'm sorry, Suzanne, but I've got to go."

"Thanks for stopping by," I said. I wasn't even sure that he heard me as he ducked back into his car.

"What was that all about?" Grace asked as we watched Jake drive away.

"Jake was trying to smooth things over with me," I said.

"Good." She grabbed me by the shoulders and looked deep into my eyes. "So tell me, my friend, how are you holding up?"

"I've been better, but I'm going to figure this out, trust me."

"You mean 'we,' don't you?"

I shook my head. "Grace, I don't want to pull you into another investigation."

"You're not pulling, I'm pushing. If you have someone to talk to, let me go with you. I'm good at it, and you know it."

I agreed, then told her about helping Heather go through Peg's things. "You don't have to come with me, but you're welcome to join us if you'd like."

"Try to stop me," she said. "Just let me go home and change, and we can get started."

As Grace changed in her bathroom, I sat on her bed and brought her up to date on what I'd learned. "Believe it or not, it appears that Peg Masterson was smack in the middle of a love triangle."

"Why would you find that hard to believe?" Grace asked. "Surely not because of her age."

"Honestly, that has a little to do with it, but mostly it's because of what kind of person Peg was. Any guesses about who her boyfriend was?"

"You've got me, unless it was Max."

I laughed at that response. "You're not even close. She was dating Burt Gentry before they broke up."

"Sweet old Burt from the hardware store?" Grace asked.

"One and the same," I admitted.

Grace poked her head out of the bathroom and said, "You know what? I can see it. He's still a handsome man, and he treats women as if we matter." Grace frowned, then asked, "You said triangle. Who's the third side?"

"Marge Rankin," I said.

"Now that I find hard to believe. Suzanne, I hope this is more than just idle speculation."

"She called the hardware store while I was talking to Burt, and he confirmed it. The thing is, Burt claims that he broke up with Peg, and someone else told me it was the other way around."

"Who's your source?" Grace asked.

"I'd rather not say just yet. She told me in confidence."