Killer Chocolate Pecan Pie

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

  “And while you may not have committed a murder, putting laxatives in people’s food is still illegal.”

  “No, it isn’t. It’s justice.”

  This woman was literally insane, Bert thought. She didn’t bother arguing about the fact that she’d read a news story where a woman was arrested for putting laxatives into her co-worker's food at an office Christmas party. It was a low down and mean thing to do, but this wasn’t about that. “No, it’s grounds for a lawsuit. You don’t know what kind of health conditions any of those singers might have. They did nothing to you.”

  “You’ve made your point. I know it was the wrong choice.” The old woman was exasperated. “I guess I just got really hurt by feeling left out. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “I didn’t do it, did I?” There was true remorse in her voice this time for even having considered doing something so horrible.

  Still, Bert wondered if Gracie only stopped short of spiking the pies because she found a dead body. “What happened next?” she pressed on.

  The woman hesitated as she began to remember the horrible scene from that day. “W-Well, I waited for the choir to leave. They decided to all go out and grab coffee from the Koffee Hous down the road before coming back to enjoy the pie.”

  Bert guessed that Pastor Chimney must have gone with them, which would explain the place being locked up. He probably thought they’d only be gone five to ten minutes at the most—which was all it took.

  “That was when I’d gotten the idea. I already had the pills in my purse, so it was easy.”

  “Let’s get past the pills part, okay?” Bert requested, not wanting to remember what prank this woman had been planning on the poor unsuspecting choir members.

  “Anyway, I waited a good long time until the coast was clear. I walked down the back stairs into the kitchen.”

  “Ah, that’s why the outside door down there was open.”

  “No, no. I found it open myself,” she insisted.

  The meant the killer had probably left through that outside door. It only made sense, after all.

  “I went into the room,” she paused, gulping hard, “and there was the body. I, of course, instantly went to check her vital signs. I used to be a nurse back in the day, you know?”

  “I didn’t,” Bert admitted.

  “I realized she was gone and there was nothing I could do when I spotted the gun. Without thinking, I picked it up.”

  Bert shook her head. It was a dumb simple mistake.

  “Then, while I had it in my hand, I heard someone scream outside.”

  Bert wrinkled up her nose, feeling a tad embarrassed about shouting out like that when she’d slipped.

  “I panicked and ran into the pantry to hide.”

  “I see, and I know the rest.”

  “That you do.”

  “Why did you run away when I came in?”

  “I was scared. I didn’t know what would happen. I mean, I was standing there with the gun. I just threw it down and bolted.”

  Scratching her chin, Bert nodded. “I guess so.”

  Bert crossed her legs, considering what she’d heard. “What about a shot? Did you hear a gunshot?”

  “I’m a little hard of hearing.”

  “And you were the choir director?”

  “I can hear well enough to know if they are singing. A gunshot in a different room? Maybe I heard a click or pop or something. I honestly can’t remember.”

  Suddenly, the sound of a large metal door opened, and Harry’s voice said, “times up.”

  “You’ll figure it out,” Gracie said in a whisper so the detective wouldn’t hear. “You’ll find the real killer and clear my name.”

  Bert wasn’t so sure.

  Chapter Ten

  “I seriously need a break for a minute. You want to run and grab a quick bite?” Harry asked stepping out the front door and seeing Bert was done with her call.

  “That sounds amazing. I’m just about completely done with everything that happened today.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry to have to put you through all this.” He led the way toward the offices. “Who was on the phone, by the way?”

  “Just Carla saying she had landed safely,” Bert lied.

  “I’m glad to hear it. How does Chinese sound?”

  “Lovely,” she agreed.

  After buttoning up his long trench coat, a staple of his personality even in the summer months, they were off. The local Chinese restaurant, The Panda King, was in the downtown area right next to the police station, making it easy to walk to for a quick bite when Harry had to be back at work soon.

  Bert had never been there herself, but Harry had mentioned it on a few occasions.

  The establishment was in the corner section of a high-rise building which housed offices upstairs. with large glass walls making up both sides of the dining area. Red, green, and white Christmas lights twinkled in the windows and a skinny tree sat next to the welcome counter.

  “Detective. Good to see you,” the small and elderly Chinese man greeted him with a little bow. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, Charlie,” Harry returned.

  “I see you brought someone new today?”

  “Yes, this is Bert,” he introduced her with a wave of his hand.

  “Ah, yes, yes. The girlfriend. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said, stepping forward and grabbing her hand in a firm shake.

  “You as well, Charlie.”

  “I have your usual table open. Right this way,” he directed, leading them to a corner booth with a small tree in the center of the table. “Here are your menus.”

  “I’ll have the usual,” Harry noted.

  “Of course. I should have known. And for the lady?”

  Bert looked at the menu, never having been here, but went with a familiar and safe bet. “Just some lemon chicken please and a side of egg rolls if you have them.”

  “Indeed, we do.” Taking the menus back, he bowed again and headed off.

  “Sheesh, I knew you came here often, but not that often,” she teased him.

  “At least once a week if not more,” he said as if it were a big accomplishment.

  “Right,” she smiled. “Charlie seems nice.”

  “He’s a hoot. Get this. His parents loved early American cinema so much that they named him Charlie after Charlie Chan, the detective.” He laughed out loud.

  Bert grimaced ever so slightly at the thought. She would be amiss not to admit she did enjoy some of the earlier films starring the east Asian detective. However, later entries in the film series got under her skin.

  “I wonder if there are any Christmas movies about Charlie Chan,” Harry went on. “If so, we should watch them.”

  Bert was a great lover of black-and-white movies but preferred the silly sci-fi ones. However, she was willing to watch the detective and cowboy flicks Harry loved. She still liked them just fine.

  “Here is your soup. Hot and sour,” the waiter said, returning with two bowls and setting them down.

  “Thanks, Charlie,” Harry called as the man disappeared back into the kitchen. Picking up his spoon, he dug in taking a sip of the steaming hot liquid.

  Bert tasted it and was impressed by the mixture of spicy flavors. It was pleasant on a cold snowy evening, almost making her forget about the horrible events of the day so far. Her luck in that department wouldn’t hold out.

  “By the way. I know it was Gracie who called you. Not Carla?” he noted glancing up nonchalantly from his bowl.

  “How did you know?” she gasped.

  “I heard part of her conversation and just guessed it was you.”

  “Do you have to ask?” she sighed, not even bothering to beat around the bush.

  “She asked you to help clear her name, didn’t she?” he said pointedly, any semblance of a smile disappearing.

  “Of course, she did,” Bert said, realizing the sound of complaint in
her voice was less than attractive. “I told her she needed to call a lawyer and not me.”

  “Why people seem to trust you over a proper policeman, I’ll never understand.”

  She sipped her soup off the spoon. “People feel uncomfortable around cops, I guess. You guys can be a little intimidating.”

  “Even me?” he asked in feigned surprise.

  “Especially you, Harry.” She pointed her spoon at him.

  “I guess so,” he admitted, already finishing off his soup. He had practically inhaled it and Bert wondered if he’d had a single thing to eat all day long. “You’re not thinking of actually helping her, are you?” Harry asked.

  “Of course, not,” she lied. She’d made a promise to Gracie to at least look into the case. She wouldn’t do anything dangerous or illegal, just do a little digging. Maybe ask a few questions. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “That’s good to hear,” he said, setting his bowl near the edge of the table for the waiter to take away. “Because, it could potentially throw off the whole case if you somehow got more involved than you already are. Gracie shouldn’t have called you, but I don’t have total control over that. Thankfully, even if she didn’t call a lawyer, she’ll still be assigned one by the state.”

  Bert looked down into her own soup, watching the colors swirl together.

  “Something wrong?” he pressed.

  She looked up at him with knowing eyes. “How would there not be something wrong? All I’d hoped for was a quiet Christmas, a break from all the chaos. I just wanted to sit at home, watch old movies, and snuggle on the couch together.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You wanted to spend the holiday week with me?”

  “Well, of course. Why wouldn’t I?” she asked, knowing she’d been caught being dodgy.

  “Oh, I don’t know. It just felt like you were ignoring me for a bit there. Ever since we saw my mom.”

  Bert swallowed hard. “N-No. I was just busy.”

  Harry chuckled. “Come on, Bert. You may be a crack shot sleuth, but I’m a professional detective.”

  “I guess I should have seen that coming,” she admitted.

  “Anyway, I decided it was best to give you space if you needed it.”

  Bert’s face grew hot. He had been considerate enough to give her space for a while. He was making big strides in the romantic territory.

  “And, whatever it was you were concerned about, it is none of my business.”

  “Oh, no, no. It’s okay,” she jumped in. Taking another slurp of her soup, she formulated what she might say next. “I guess, with meeting your mom and all, I got a bit worried that we were moving too fast.”

  “You thought I was going to propose soon?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  Laughing, Harry reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “No offense, but I’m nowhere near ready for that yet.”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Bert sighed with a huge smile of relief.

  “Still, my mom is a big part of my life, and I thought you two should meet.”

  “Yeah, how could you keep her a secret for so long?” she scolded him. “Guess I’m not the sleuth you think I am.”

  “I’m good at finding clues and hiding them,” he informed her.

  “It certainly seems that way.”

  “Mostly, I didn’t want my mom getting over eager or excited too early. I understand why you got worried. She really wants to see me get married before she passes. She’d given up on it for a while, now that I’m in my sixties and still never had a serious relationship. I guess I never cared for it over my work,” he squeezed her hand, “until now.”

  “Eggrolls,” the waiter interrupted, setting the plate of crispy tasty appetizers in front of them.

  They let go of each other’s hands and thanked the waiter.

  Harry picked one up, dipped it in the sauce, and took a bite. “You know, I understand. This year, for the first time in many, many years, I hoped to have Christmas off. No murder cases to speak of, just alone time with you.”

  “Have you worked every Christmas?”

  “Just about. I preferred working.” He took another bite. “This year, though, I really wanted some time off.”

  “Ever thought of retiring?” she asked, the words leaving her mouth before she could think them through.

  Luckily, it didn’t phase him. “That is another part of my life I’m not ready for yet.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I also had errands to get done this week that I’ve been putting off.”

  “Like?”

  “Oh, my home security system is on the fritz. I need to get the guy out there to have a look at it.”

  “You have a home security system?”

  “I’m a homicide detective, Bert. People don’t exactly love me.”

  She could understand, but it only made her scared for him. “Well, get it fixed as soon as possible,” she ordered jokingly.

  “At this point, getting it fixed will have to wait until the new year.”

  “Maybe you and I will finally get a break next year.”

  He smiled, leaning on the table with his elbows. “Maybe we could take a trip this January, just you and me.”

  Bert beamed. “Goodness knows I need it.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Around eleven the next day, after holding her first ever choir rehearsal (with only a week to go before from the actual concert) Bert was feeling confident. While she was no music expert, she had learned to read music when she was a teenage girl taking piano lessons. Much to her surprise, she did remember quite a bit from those days.

  While the choir wasn’t perfect by any means, she was surprised when some of her direction made off the fly and based off of her own impression of the music alone, improved the sound.

  Maybe this wouldn’t be so overwhelmingly difficult as she originally thought.

  More than that, spending her whole morning listening to and singing traditional Christmas carols had filled her with the wonder of the season all over again—overshadowing the dark events from the previous day.

  Another great blessing that had lifted her spirits was the girls at the shop. Her two employees, as a Christmas gift to Bert, insisted on taking over and managing everything for a week. That way, the owner could take as much time as she needed for the choir, baking special pies for people outside of store customers, and other wintery activities.

  Of course, Bert knew her girls all too well. They were also doing this to give Bert a chance to investigate. Shiv especially knew of Bert’s knack for sleuthing and always liked to hear the outcome of each case when it was done.

  “Bring back an exciting story. That’s Christmas gift enough for me,” Shiv had said.

  As a result, Bert had followed her orders and was now on her way to meet a character witness. After finishing her meal with Harry, the night before, Bert had gotten online to try and dig into Shay’s social media history.

  What Bert had found was that, before the school year had started, Shay and her newly graduated sorority sisters had gone on a trip to Las Vegas together. She’d also found that one of those sisters was living in Culver’s Hood.

  Bert jumped on the chance and contacted the woman to set up a lunch date.

  Parking outside the Koffee Haus in downtown, she walked inside to find the woman. The smell of freshly roasted coffee along with the familiar peppermint of the season wafted toward her, inviting her further in. Heading for the counter first, she indulged and ordered a Candy Cane Mocha with extra whipped cream.

  “It’ll be out in a sec,” the barista noted.

  Turning, she looked around the room to see if she could recognize the sorority sister based on the online images alone.

  “Bertha Hannah?” a woman’s voice said from behind her.

  Turning, Bert saw a vaguely familiar face. It was the woman she’d tracked down online. However, her hair was different, cut in a much shorter and professional manner. Instead of the revealing tank top and booty shorts from the
Vegas images, she had on a smart business suit with a black dress jacket over it.

  “That’s me. You must be Delila.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she smiled brightly, still showing her youth as she held out a hand in greeting.

  Bert shook it. “Let me begin by saying I’m so sorry for the loss of your friend.”