by Tegan Maher
“Nope,” I said as we parted. “She didn’t tell you, either?” I gave Turkey a pat on the head.
Penny shook her head. “She was super mysterious on the phone. She said that she had an important matter to discuss, and that was it.”
“Weird,” I said. “That's all she told me, too.”
“I guess we’d better go in and talk to her,” Penny said.
A burst of wind rattled the dried aspen leaves around us and stirred up the delicious scent of fall. The mid-morning sunshine was bright and strong, and it helped to mitigate the cold chill in the air. Though there was a dusting of white on the peaks that surrounded our little mountain town of Hillcrest, Colorado, it had yet to snow in town. I knew that would be coming soon, as November was right around the corner.
For the time being, I was intent on enjoying the dry, sunny days while they lasted. Though most locals had already yanked winter jackets, hats, and gloves from the backs of their hall closets, I wore nothing but a vintage tee under my usual vest, and tie-dyed leggings. My long dark hair was in a braid, and my head was hat-free. I did wear boots, but that was mostly because my knee-high moccasins -- a nod to my Native American heritage -- were comfy and pretty, not because I was preparing for winter.
The bell on the door jingled as we stepped inside. Annie was behind the counter, slinging drinks. The round white-cloth-topped tables that filled the café were jam-packed with customers. A few people turned our way and gave friendly nods and waves. I returned the greeting, and then looked around in admiration of the café’s new decor.
The Halloween decorations that Annie had put up, which included stringy gray cobwebs in every corner, jack-o-lantern-shaped flower vases on the tables, and little skull-shaped lights strung up around the counter, gave the place a festive Halloween vibe. Now, more than any other time of the year, the establishment seemed to really live up to its macabre name.
“Marley! Penny!” Annie said happily as we neared the counter. “You’re here! Excellent. I have a favor to ask the two of you.” Now that we were closer, I could see that she wore a scarf over her short white hair that was printed with cute cartoon ghosts. Her earrings were a pair of silver spiders, each one bigger than a quarter.
She set down the tea tin that she was holding and pulled a slip of paper from her flower-printed apron pocket. When she held it out to us, I accepted it.
“If you’re not too busy today, that is,” she said, as she returned to her task of brewing tea.
Penny and I huddled by the register and read the slip of paper, which turned out to be a newspaper clipping.
Melrose police were called to 189 Pine Ridge Ave in the North Riverbend neighborhood around 7:18 a.m. on Monday, October 26th, to investigate a possible break in at Nikki and Earl’s Chocolate Factory, owned by Nikki and Earl Umbridge. Police are continuing to investigate.
Annie pulled a colorful ceramic mug from a shelf, and then lowered a tea bag into it.
“What do you think?” she asked, as she filled the mug with steaming hot water. “Do you have a few hours to pop down to Melrose and see what’s going on? I know it’s a lot to ask, but you’re both so good at sleuthing. Nikki has had a rough go of it these past few years. I know she could use the help.”
I was flattered by Annie’s reference to my newly acquired sleuthing skills. Penny's had that reputation around town for years. She has her private investigator’s license, and people actually pay her to snoop around. I’m not an investigator by trade. I’m a massage therapist, and I own my own retreat center, where I host workshops and that sort of that sort of thing. As it turns out, healing often comes with a heaping side of trouble to contend with, and since opening my retreat center, I’d investigated my fair share of crimes. I was happy that my friend Annie considered me a sleuth.
Annie motioned to the newspaper clipping in my hand. “You remember Nikki, don’t you? Her mother Edna Eden owned the chocolate factory on Main Street, right next to the bank.” She answered her own question. “Oh, dear. I suppose it closed before either of you were born. What a shame… It was the most delightful shop, and Edna made the best chocolates. I can still remember the taste of them.” Annie’s blue eyes twinkled as she recalled this. “What I’d do for a few of her dark chocolate chips. Mm, mm! I used to put them in brownies, and Walter swore they were the best brownies he’d ever had. All thanks to those chocolate chips, I’m sure.”
Annie set the mug of tea onto the counter, with a little timer next to it. “Janine, I have your tea here, dear! Just wait until the timer goes off before you remove the bag.”
Penny and I waited while Janine came up to retrieve her drink and exchange a few words with Annie while she was at it.
Once Janine headed back to her table, Annie returned her focus to Penny and me. “Anyway, I’ve kept in touch with Edna’s daughter Nikki over the years, since Edna passed away.” She reached for a tray of freshly baked croissants and started filling a plate by the counter with them while she talked. “Nikki is such a nice woman. It just breaks my heart to see that her place was burglarized. It’s not the first time, either, the poor dear. I thought maybe the two of you could go poke around the chocolate factory a bit, try to see if you might be able to catch something that the police missed. I just talked to Nikki this morning, and she was near tears. She said the police did the obligatory look-through, but seeing as nothing was stolen, they didn’t seem very intent on putting much effort into the investigation.”
“I’m free today,” I said.
“Me too!” Penny said enthusiastically. “This will be fun. We could pick up some chocolates while we’re at it!”
I nodded. “Yeah… Annie, we could grab you some dark chocolate chips for your brownies, if you want.”
“Well, I am going to make brownies for our coven meeting tonight,” Annie said thoughtfully.
I grinned at the thought of her famous double-fudge brownies.
For the past couple years, I’d been studying witchcraft with a few other women from my town: Annie, Penny, and two other women named Cora and Azure. The study had transformed my life in ways that I’d never before imagined possible, and I knew that I had much more to learn.
We usually gathered up once a week, on Wednesdays, to discuss magic. We’d decided to hold our meeting that night at midnight, which would be a first for us. Seeing as it was our last meeting before Halloween, we’d decided to put our communal dislike of late hours aside, and see what all the fuss about magical powers and the middle of night was about. Would meeting at midnight really make our meeting feel different? I wasn’t sure, but I was excited about the experiment.
Annie went on. “It would be a good idea for you to buy a pound of dark chocolate chips from Nikki, and maybe a few other items. I’ll give you some money.” She ducked behind the curtain that separated the kitchen from the front of the café, and then returned with her purse. “But I won’t add chocolates from Nikki and Earl’s factory to my brownies. I’ll stick with the organic nibs that I ordered from Celia’s Chocolates, another factory in Melrose. They’re much better.” She frowned slightly as she pulled her wallet from her bag.
“What’s wrong with the chocolates from Nikki and Earl’s?” I asked, reading into her frown of distaste.
“Oh, there’s nothing wrong with them,” Annie said. She pulled a few bills from her wallet and handed them to me. “It’s just that there’s nothing right with them, either. They don’t taste like much, to be honest. A bit like sugar-coated dried mud. You know, they’re sweet enough, and the consistency isn't terrible, but there’s nothing special about them. They’re not at all like Edna’s chocolates, which were extraordinary. The ones Celia whips up are delicious, too. But if you purchase a few items from Nikki, it might cheer her up.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Penny said. “We’re happy to help. Annie, do you have any hunches about what this break-in is all about?” She set her travel mug on the counter and eyed the croissants. “You mentioned that nothing was stolen. Why wou
ld someone break into Nikki and Earl’s Chocolate Factory if they weren’t going to actually take anything?”
Oren Lackey, the town mechanic, stepped up to the counter just behind us and cleared his throat impatiently.
“Just the usual black coffee,” he said gruffly as he pushed a dented, stained mug onto the counter next to Penny’s.
“I’ll leave that to the two of you,” Annie said to us. “And thank you. This means a lot to me. Now, let me get you some drinks and snacks for the road. You girls are going to love these croissants! Oren, dear, you should try one, too. It’s on the house!”
2
With espresso drinks and fresh-baked croissants in hand, Penny and I headed once again out into the fresh air. I fired up my van and Penny hopped into the passenger seat. On the way to Melrose, I caught sight of Skili, my great horned owl familiar, soaring through the air by our side. Her presence comforted me. I knew she was tuning into my energy, and I could sense hers as well. She was as excited about our crime-fighting mission as I was.
As I drove, Penny and I discussed the case. Because we had so few details to work with, we didn’t get far. I was feeling pretty clueless about who broke into Nikki’s chocolate factory, why, or what we could do about it as we pulled up to 189 Pine Ridge Avenue an hour and fifteen minutes later.
The chocolate factory was on the north end of Melrose, out past the main downtown area. The houses in this end of town were farther apart than those in the heart of Melrose. The factory was set on a sprawling lawn of bright green grass. It looked like a two-story white farmhouse with a barn attached. The sign out front said “Nikki and Earl’s Chocolate Factory: Take the tour! Try a sample! Buy gifts here!” A man was out in the side yard on a riding mower that emitted a low hum.
Skili perched on a tree near where I parked, while Penny, Turkey, and I hopped out and took a moment to stretch in the fresh air. Then I led the way up the sidewalk to the front door of the farmhouse. A sign hanging in the window said: “We’re open! Come on in.”
Before I could open the door, it opened up and a woman stepped out. She had a large cardboard box in her hand, which she could barely see over. She wore a burnt-orange sweater, rolled up to her elbows, which matched the color of her hair. A pair of jeans fit snugly over her wide hips.
She stopped in her tracks at the sight of me and Penny. “Oh! I’m so sorry,” she said. “I should have flipped the sign. We’re closed for the day.”
She lowered the box to the ground next to a potted plant and wiped her brow. “Though I suppose if you want to come in, it wouldn’t hurt. Everything’s fifty percent off. No -- make that seventy-five percent.”
“What a deal!” Penny said.
The woman swiveled around and held the door open for us. “This here’s the gift shop,” she said. “The factory is in the back. I’m Nikki, by the way.”
I stepped inside. Penny followed me, and Turkey trotted along just behind Penny. Nikki didn’t object to his presence. It seemed to me like Nikki was too desperate for customers to make a fuss about a cat in the store.
Once inside, I looked around the gift shop area, and noted six or seven more boxes strewn around the room.
“Are you rearranging?” Penny asked. I saw her taking in the shop's interior, too. Almost all of the shelves and countertops were empty. Only one shelf still had products on it. I saw a big plastic-wrapped lollipop that was made of dark and white chocolates swirled together. It looked delicious.
“Not rearranging… Actually, we’re moving out.” She sighed. “After thirty years, we’re finally throwing in the towel on this place. We’ve tried everything, but we just can’t seem to make it work.” She waved at the display of lollipops. “Honest to goodness, I’ll give you seventy-five percent off of anything you want. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you a tour of the factory. It was broken into, and it’s still a mess.”
Penny and I exchanged a glance. One of us had to dive into an explanation of why we were at her factory, and we wordlessly worked out which one of us it would be.
The task fell to me.
“Actually, that’s why we’re here,” I said. “Our friend Annie told us you’d run into some trouble. Penny is a PI, and I’ve solved a few cases myself. We drove down from Hillcrest to see if we could figure out who broke into your factory.” I hoped I didn't sound arrogant. That’s not at all how I wanted to come off. I just wanted her to know that Penny and I were qualified to help.
Nikki’s brow creased. “You drove all the way here from Hillcrest, to help me? Oh, you shouldn’t have done that. I can’t afford to pay for your services. All of my money is wrapped up in this place.” She gestured to the four walls around us. “But the business is going down the drain, and my savings are sunk right along with it.”
“You don’t have to pay us,” I said. “We’re here because we want to be. We like puzzles, and what happened here in your factory is a good one. Penny and I are both naturally curious.”
“And we also want to buy chocolates,” Penny chimed in. “Annie requested a pound of your dark chocolate chips, and…” She looked around, and then pointed to the lollipops. “And a bunch of those. All of them. We’ll take all of them.”
This made Nikki smile. “Well, that’s nice of Annie to want some of my chocolate chips. It’s been a while since she’s bought any. I always love it when she calls. Tell you what -- I’ll give you five pounds instead of one, no charge. And you can have all of the chocolate lollies for free. I suppose the break-in is a puzzle, though I hadn't thought of it that way.”
“A real puzzle,” Penny said. “We read in the paper that nothing was taken. Is that true?”
Nikki nodded. She moved around the back of the counter that had a cash register on it. She bent down, out of sight, and when she popped back up, she had a white paper bag in her hands. Even from a distance I could see that it had the factory’s name on it in swirling brown script, as well as the logo, which was a little replica of the farmhouse and barn.
She then stepped over so she was behind the display shelf of lollipops. “That’s right,” she said, as she started filling the bag with them. “As far as Earl and I can tell, nothing’s missing. But the whole place was torn apart. It was such a mess. And the worst part is, it’s happened before.”
“Annie mentioned that,” I said. “When you were burgled before, was anything stolen?”
She shook her head. “Nope. It was the same story then. Place was torn apart, but nothing was missing, as far as Earl and I could tell. It’s happened about once a year, ever since we opened up shop, thirty years back. I just can’t take it anymore. I said to Earl, ‘This is it. The last straw.’”
She plucked the last lollipop from the jar and popped it into the bag. Then she handed the bulging sack to Penny. “That’s why we’re throwing in the towel, like I said.”
I pulled on the end of my braid thoughtfully. It was interesting to me that her factory had been broken into before. Melrose is bigger than Hillcrest, but by no means would it qualify as a city. It’s a rural town with low crime rates, and it seemed odd to me that Nikki had to contend with multiple break-ins.
Nikki went on. “It always happens around Halloween, too. The police say it must be kids up to mischief, but that doesn’t make sense to me. Kids would take candy, but like I said, nothing seems to be missing.”
“That’s so weird!” Penny said. “Can we check out the crime scene? Maybe Marley and I can pick up on something that the cops missed.”
Nikki hesitated, but then nodded. “Sure, I suppose so. I’m not even pressing charges with the police. Since nothing was stolen, what’s the point? The detective who was here said that I was free to clean the place up. They took photographs and all that, and said they’d get back to me if anything came to light. I’m not hopeful. It’s the same story every year…”
She beckoned for us to follow her through a narrow path of packed boxes. “Come on back this way. I’m sorry about the mess. Really, you two shouldn’t spend too
long on this. I appreciate the help and all, but I’ve already made up my mind about giving up. Being a chocolatier like my mamma was my dream, but it’s just not in the cards. I just have to give up on my dream, and do something else for a little while until I can retire -- if I can retire, that is. Who knows, with the way the bank account is right now, and the debt we’ve got…”
She shook her head as if to clear it. “Oh, listen to me! You don’t want to hear my sob story. I’m sorry.”
I felt sad, and I knew it was because I was picking up on Nikki’s grief about giving up on her chocolatier career. I sensed how hard it was for her to see her business fail, after the long and sustained effort that she’d given.
She led us into a breezeway, and then down a few wooden stairs. A door opened up into the barn, which had been converted into an industrial kitchen. There were shelves along the walls, a long table down the middle of the room, an oven and stove-top, tall cooling racks, and a walk-in refrigerator.
It looked as though it had been tidy and clean -- at one point. The surfaces were a bit worn out, but polished to the point of shining. Despite the underlying cleanliness, the place looked as though a tornado had ripped through it. Bags of sugar lay opened on the ground, chocolate powder rested in piles on the countertops. Jars and bottles lay smashed on the floor. Dishes were littered about, along with large mixing and baking contraptions. The oven door was open. The curtains had been torn off of the windows and lay in heaps on the floor.
Nikki pointed to the far end of the kitchen.
“The window by that door at the end there was broken. That’s how they got in.”
Penny walked over toward the door to take a look at the broken window. I moved in that direction, too.
A brass sculpture by the door caught my eye. It was about three feet tall, but positioned on a wooden stand that added another few feet of height. It was of a woman in a long gown, with a ring of flowers around her head. She was carrying two torches.