“That’s fine, ma’am. Perhaps I can find someone to fix you something to drink from this juice bar?”
“What? No, please. No, I had two smoothies this afternoon. I’d prefer just to step out of –”
A yell rang out from outside the glass doors of Juice It, and both Olivia and the detective snapped upright and peered outside.
Detective Keane and Joe were present and accounted for, but they were both focused on a point just out of sight, toward the stairs.
Olivia circled her table and stumbled on her path to the exit of the juice bar. Detective Willis made a strangled sound but didn’t stop her. Perhaps he was just as intrigued as she was.
Olivia pushed open the door and exited just as another woman charged into view.
Her red hair curled around her shoulders, and her matching lipstick was a little smeared at the corner of her mouth. She rammed orange-tanned fists onto her hips and stared at Fat Joe.
“Joe!” She shrieked. “What the heck is going on?”
“Lulu?”
“No, it’s the Queen,” Lulu replied, and tapped her high heel on the tiles. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling your cell phone for the past half an hour.”
“Ma’am, how did you get past the police line at the front of this building?” Detective Keane scraped his chair back and glared at her.
“What police line?” She asked, and blinked at him.
Willis groaned behind Olivia. “Shoot, I knew I forgot something.”
Another stellar performance by the Chester Police Department.
“Willis!” Keane grunted.
The detective rushed past Olivia and toward the stairs, metaphorical tail tucked between his legs.
“I’ve been worried sick about you, Joe. Everyone is at our place waiting for the chocolates and you’re here doing what? Exercising again?” Lulu wasn’t exactly skinny, but she wasn’t Joe’s size either. Her double chin wobbled as she spoke. “I can’t believe you think this is more important than your nephew’s birthday party.”
Did the woman refuse to acknowledge Keane or what he’d said?
“Lulu, Tina is –”
“Tina! Tina, Tina, Tina,” Lulu snapped. “You’re obsessed with her. Can’t you see? She isn’t interested in you. There’s only me and if you –”
“Miss,” Detective Keane said, and his cool tone sliced through her anger like a knife through butter. “You’re interrupting an ongoing investigation.”
“A what?”
“Tina’s dead,” Joe said, at last, and his voice quavered on her name.
Lulu sucked in a breath. “W-what?”
“She’s dead. Murdered. Someone threw a weight on her head,” Joe replied, and sank back into his chair, trembling. “She’s dead.”
“No,” Lulu whispered, and it was her turn to shake, but the fear didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“That’s enough,” Keane grunted. “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere without my Joe. Why are you talking to him anyway? He didn’t do anything wrong.” Lulu’s cheeks reddened to match both her hair and her lipstick. “Joe has been through enough without you –”
Detective Willis chose that moment to reappear and placed a hand on Lulu’s shoulder. “Please come with me, ma’am.”
Lulu shook free of him. “Why should I?”
“If you don’t, I’ll arrest you for obstruction of justice,” Detective Keane announced, in true bull-in-china-shop form.
The redhead glared for a minute longer at least, gaze flicking from Keane to Joe, who nodded for her to go, even waved her off. “Fine,” she said. “Fine, but this isn’t over, Keane. You’d better not upset him. Joe has been through enough. He doesn’t need this pressure as well, you hear me?”
Keane ignored her and took his seat again. Finally, Lulu turned and walked off, Detective Willis following her as if she was the one escorting him out.
Olivia reentered the Juice It Bar with a sigh. No doubt she’d still have questions to answer. Better to get it over with than hang around here, pondering the guilt of Fat Joe, and now, his overbearing girlfriend.
CHAPTER FOUR
G ossip circulated in the Block-A-Choc Shoppe. Women and men alike sat at tables, heads bent together, cups or mugs in front of them, chocolates either in their mouths or on the way to them.
“What’s everyone so excited about?” Albie asked as she tied on her apron beside the counter.
“You haven’t heard?” Olivia blinked at her. “Goodness, I thought news traveled fast in Chester. I must’ve been mistaken.”
“No, dear, I put myself in a self-contained silence last night. I needed a break. It gets difficult dealing with customers and all their chocolate-stained secrets. I imagine this is what being a bartender feels like.”
“With the exception that the secrets are alcohol-soaked rather than chocolate-stained.”
“Exactly. And there’s less scandal and more pure gossip.” Albie sighed. The oldest, yet spriest A of them all. “So? What is it? Lay it on me.”
Olivia patted Alberta on the shoulder in a form of pre-consolation. She relied on her three assistants heavily, and they relied on her right back, whether it was for comfort or a quick chocolate fix. She didn’t want to place undue pressure on the old woman. “You’ll hear soon enough. Why not prolong the peace?”
“I’d rather hear it from you than one of the customers, dear,” Alberta said.
Olivia checked that the coast was clear – the morning rush had just ended, but there’d be a brunch rush to follow it in no time. Still, there wasn’t anyone waiting to be served, only satisfied customers seated and whispering.
“Tina Hobb is dead,” Olivia whispered. “Murdered yesterday evening at the fitness center.”
Alberta gasped. “What? No!” She placed a withered hand to her lips – pink today to match the hue of her blouse. “How did it happen?”
“Someone hit her over the head with a weight,” Olivia replied. “I found the body shortly before Fat Joe Kristin ran in.”
“Fat Joe, huh?” Alberta dropped her hand and raised an eyebrow instead. “He’s big enough to lift a weight or two.”
“That’s what I thought, but I can’t be sure that he’s the one who did it.” Olivia leaned in and filled Albie in on the rest of the details, from the chocolate fight between Tina and Joe, to the discovery of the body, and the appearance of Lulu thereafter.
“Good heavens,” Alberta whispered, after Olivia had finished. “That’s quite the tale. Now, what are you going to do about it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh come on now, dear, you’re already talking about suspects and who might’ve done it. It’s not exactly a leap to figure that you’ll take the case.”
Olivia shrugged and picked up a rag from beneath the register. “It’s not my case to take. Keane’s on it.” She dragged the polishing rag over the glass countertop and smiled at the gathering of chocolates beneath it, each one glistening or matte or pink or white. Gorgeous little drops of heaven.
Recently, one of her customers had asked when she planned on making slabs instead of drops. It wasn’t a bad idea. She might come up with a packaging concept and a new logo for the store.
Yeah, there was far too much to concentrate on here. Surely, she couldn’t juggle another case, unless Jake needed her help. Or an extenuating circumstance presented itself.
“But you’re the only person in this town anyone trusts to investigate a crime. Keane has failed more times than I can count. And I heard that he’s in trouble with his superiors because of it. They want to have him replaced.”
No wonder he hadn’t spoken with her or warned her off. He was on thin ice – no doubt, a single cross against his name, even if it was a complaint from the infamous meddler Olivia Cloud, would send him over the edge.
“Come on, Olivia. Maybe this time, you could collaborate with him.”
She snorted so hard it actually
hurt her nostrils. There wasn’t a chance Keane would ever consider collaborating on anything with Olivia. He’d expressed his distaste for her in no uncertain terms several times since she’d first arrived in Chester.
Or rather, since she’d first started involving herself in criminal investigations.
“And I bet I know the first place you could look for answers,” Alberta said, and stepped closer, the buckles on her ankle boots clicking.
“Oh?”
“Christopher Robin’s house,” Albie whispered, and winked.
“I – what? How does Winnie the Pooh factor into this?”
“No, dear, not that Christopher Robin,” Alberta replied. “He’s Tina’s boyfriend. Lives just around the corner along Butcher Lane.”
“This feels like a badly written fairytale.” Olivia dropped the rag and folded her arms.
“Christopher would surely know if Tina had any enemies,” Alberta continued, undeterred. “In fact, he was once a personal trainer too. I’m sure he’d understand the situation and what it would take to lift a weight that size, whatever it might’ve been. You might want to talk to him.”
“I don’t know –”
The glass front door slammed open and Alvira rushed into the store. Heads turned, but she ignored everyone and made a beeline for the counter. “There you are,” she said, and let out a long breath.
“Where else would I be?” Olivia asked.
“Keane’s been kicked off the case,” Alvira hissed, and sucked in another breath. “Sheesh, sorry, just ran all the way here.”
“He what?”
“Kicked off. Apparently, Fat Joe’s girlfriend threw a fit down at the police station and Keane was on his last warning. He’s been suspended.”
“No.”
“Yes,” Alvira whispered, and glanced over her shoulder. “I heard the news on the way back from that delivery to the shelter.”
Olivia didn’t dare look at Alberta, though the elderly woman’s stare nearly burned a hole in the side of her face.
“You know what that sounds like, don’t you?” Alberta asked.
“What?” Olivia finally turned to her.
“Extenuating circumstances.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“I don’t know if this is the right thing to do,” Olivia whispered. “I haven’t spoken to Jake about it yet.”
“Since when have you ever worried about what Jake thought?” Alvira asked, and practically hopped up the two wooden front steps that led to Christopher Robin’s front door – painted pale green and decorated with stenciled flowers. Heavens, this had to be Tina’s handiwork.
“I care what Jake thinks,” Olivia said, belatedly. The door had distracted her. “He’s –” There wasn’t much she could say which would convince Alvira. Jake was what? Her boyfriend? Not technically, and she didn’t want to wander down that road, mentally or physically, yet.
And even if he wasn’t her boyfriend, did that mean she cared less about what he thought? Ugh, this was too much for her to process this early in the afternoon. “Fine,” she said. “But I’m not entirely sure I want to investigate this yet.”
“If you say so,” Alvira replied, but she clearly didn’t buy a word of it. “After you, non-investigator Cloud.”
“Don’t start with me.” But Olivia smiled at her A. She appreciated her opinion, even if it happened to make her crazy.
Olivia rapped her knuckles on the front door, then pushed the buzzer for good measure. A few seconds of silence, followed by quick footsteps, and the clack of a lock.
Christopher Robin – gosh, it was strange to even think of him by that name – had dark circles under his eyes. He was tall, tan, and muscled like any self-respecting fitness freak would be, but he’d definitely seen better days.
The robe he wore had a long ketchup stain down the front, and he squinted at them, raised his palm to shield himself from the burning sun overhead.
Birds chirped, and a door slammed somewhere nearby, but Olivia couldn’t tear herself from his face. He looked…normal. Nothing about him that would’ve jumped out at her in particular.
“Hi,” Olivia said.
“Hello,” he replied, and cleared his throat. His gaze touched on the box of chocolates in Alvira’s grasp. “I didn’t order any chocolates.”
“No, we’re here to offer our condolences for your loss,” Olivia said.
Alvira thrust the box toward him and he stared at it. Finally, he took it from her. “Thanks, I guess. Do I know you?”
“Not me,” Olivia said. “I’m fairly new to Chester, but we’ve got a few friends in common, I believe. I’m sure you know Alberta, and I’d just met Tina yesterday when –”
“Wait, what did you say your name was?” He asked.
“I didn’t.” She took a breath and forced a smile up for the poor man. “I’m Olivia Cloud.”
“Cloud, Cloud, why does that ring a bell?” Christopher rubbed the center of his forehead with two fingers. “Wait a second.”
Uh oh. Either he’d name her as an outsider, the suspect in a case, or the interfering investigator who’d gotten in the way. Her infamy preceded her. Most unfortunate.
“You’re the one who found her,” he said.
“Pardon?”
“You found Tina,” he whispered. “Come in, please. Come in.” Chris shuffled back, the end of his robe snagging on the bottom of the door. He tugged it free and gestured for them to enter the darkened hall.
Alvira and Olivia exchanged a glance, but entered regardless. He didn’t seem as if he’d attack them in his current distraught state, but Olivia had been wrong about that type of thing before.
Chris led them down the hall and into a warm, spacious living room. It was the opposite of what she’d expected.
“Take a seat, please,” he said, and gestured to the sofa.
Alvira and Olivia squished onto it together, side-by-side. “How are you holding up?”
“Not good,” he said, and choked on a sob. “I – Tina was my life. She and I had just moved in together.”
That explained the front door.
“I planned on…” he broke off and sniffed. “I planned on asking her to marry me this weekend.”
“I’m so sorry, Christopher,” Olivia said. “This must be such a difficult time for you. If there’s anything I can do to help…”
“What did she look like?” He asked.
“Pardon?”
“When you found her,” he said. “What did she look like? I only saw her after the police had finished what they needed to do. She was cleaned up. Did she look bad? Did she suffer?”
Olivia barely managed to keep the shock from her expression. Alvira didn’t manage at all.
“I’m not sure. I didn’t see much. She wasn’t supine,” Olivia said, and nausea tugged at her. Pictures in gilt frames stared down from the lemon yellow walls, each an image of the happy couple in different locations.
“Do you think it was instant? She didn’t suffer, did she?” He wiped tears from underneath his eyes. “Tina didn’t deserve this. I want to know that she didn’t suffer. Please, you have to tell me.”
“I’m sorry, Christopher, but I just don’t know. I only saw what I saw. I don’t want to tell you one thing if it didn’t happen that way. You should speak to the police about this.”
“The police, pah.” He spat without actually spitting, more like a curse to besmirch the very word ‘police.’ “They won’t tell me anything. They’re like a bunch of headless chickens down at that station.”
She didn’t doubt it after the news that Keane had been relieved of his duty. Or was it suspended? She hadn’t gotten to the bottom of that yet either. Olivia scanned the pictures, then Christopher’s stricken expression.
It would be cruel to push him for answers he didn’t have, especially since she couldn’t give him the information he needed.
“We’d better go,” Olivia said. “But please stay in touch and let me know if you need anything at all. I own the l
ocal chocolate store.”
“Block-A-Choc Shoppe.” He nodded. “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.”
Olivia and Alvira headed out, both silent after the encounter. Christopher’s grief had been overwhelming, and it was a relief to enter the sunshine and shake off the despair.
It made finding the killer all that more important, too.
CHAPTER SIX
O livia stood out in the sun on the sidewalk. She caught a bit of warmth, and her breath, after the dankness of Christopher Robin’s house. Not what she’d been led to expect after reading the works of A.A. Milne. It should’ve been all decorations, toys, and happiness in there.
She groaned at her internal lack of humor, then massaged the center of her forehead. She wasn’t particularly looking forward to the walk back to the store, though it was just around the corner.
“Everything all right?” Alvira touched her on the forearm. “You look a bit pale.”
“I didn’t expect that,” Olivia said. “The absolute grief. Every time I’ve spoken with a widow or widower they’ve held back and hidden that pain from me. I guess it was only a matter of time until I saw it truly unleashed.”
“Come,” Alvira said, and pulled her toward the next door neighbor’s lawn, and the tree which sat right at its border. “Sit down here for a minute and relax.”
Olivia sank to the ground and placed her legs out in front of her, frowning at the chocolate stain on the knee of her jeans. She brushed it, then looked around at the pretty suburban street, accented with trees, their leaves drooping beneath the weight of a new spring.
Everyone was at work, and those that weren’t sunned themselves on their front porches. One man washed his car in a spray of water from a hose.
“Peaceful,” she said.
Alvira sat down next to her. “That’s what I love about Chester. For all the gossip and the desperation to keep things just the way they’ve always been, there’s that sweetness to this town.”
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