by Pat Amsden
Later as they waited in a fine drizzle of rain under numerous umbrellas for the casket to be lowered into the grave Maxine found herself standing beside Wendy at the graveside.
She couldn't help it. She had to know. "What did you mean by that comment you made about Rick Dodd?" she whispered.
Wendy startled in surprise. Then she lowered her voice again and said, "Oh come on. Everyone knew they were having problems. Then he makes that sanctimonious speech! West Shore developments would be shut down this week if they didn't get an infusion of cash from somewhere." Bill looked daggers at her and Wendy stopped talking.
Tanya tapped her on the shoulder and she turned around smiling at her.
As she did she noticed another woman in the back of the crowd, eyes swollen from crying. Who was she? And how did she know Ron? Because to Maxine's' untrained eye she looked a whole lot more broken up about Ron's death than his widow did.
As the funeral broke up she tried to find the woman but she disappeared into the crowd like smoke in the wind. "Did you see that woman?" she whispered to her Grandma Ellie.
"Whoever she was she seems heart-broken," Ellie said, putting her hand over her heart. "We can't be the only people who noticed her. Someone will know something."
But no one Maxine talked to seemed to have noticed anything. Besides hearing a whole lot of stories about how wonderful Ron was she was no closer to learning who would want him dead. She saw detective Patrick Shannon from Victoria PD standing at the edge of the crowd and made her way over to him.
"Hi Patrick. Working?"
He gave her a small smile. "You know I can't talk here."
Her eyes widened slightly. "You mean you're…"
He grabbed her arm guiding her away from the funeral. "This isn't the time. I'm trying to blend in and see if I can see anyone who might be of interest. Just ignore me."
"And if I do?" she said batting her eyelashes at him.
He gave a sigh of exasperation. "I'll do my best to stop by your shop today."
She smiled. "That wasn't so hard was it? Did you happen to notice that woman at the back? Maybe Ron was having an affair, he…"
"Enough," Patrick said. "I'll check into it." He turned away and disappeared back into the crowd.
Tracey was surrounded by well-wishers sharing memories of Ron and giving her condolences. She might not seem overly broken up about his death but that was a long way from murdering him. Particularly when his kids seemed so – destroyed – by their father's death. From everything she'd seen Tracey Vandemeer was a good mother, and no mother would put her kids through such a traumatic experience if they could avoid it.
Would they?
Chapter Three
"You'd like me to cater a birthday party for your daughter?" Maxine's voice went up in shock, even as she tried to maintain her professionalism. She counted to herself. One, two, three…eleven days. Eleven days after Ron's death and she was planning a birthday party for her children?
She listened as Tracey Vandemeer talked about a party based on Willy Wonka and the Chocolate factory for her twelve year old daughter, Lindy. "It's not good for her to wallow in grief. Losing Ron…" Tracey's voice broke slightly and Maxine felt her heart go out to her. "It's t-o-oug-h on all of, of us."
"Oh honey, of course it is. Are you sure you really want – " Maxine hurried to reassure her. As much as it was possible to do over the phone, of course. Sitting upstairs in her chocolate making space and miles away from Tracey Vandemeer there really wasn't much she could do except listen sympathetically.
"Ron wouldn't want us to stop living," Tracey said, her voice a little shrill. "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, was our favorite family movie. The original," Tracey added hastily. "Not that new one with Johnny Depp."
"If that's what you want then," Maxine said, but there was doubt in her voice.
carte blanche to spend on turning our house into a Willy Wonka fantasy land. Can you put it together by July 7th ? I know it only gives you twelve days but I've heard…" She stopped, hesitating slightly. "I've heard you lost some bookings and I'd like to do what I can to make up for that."
"Oh Tracey, I don't want you to worry about that." Maxine felt guilty for every nasty thought she'd ever had about Tracey, every doubt. "Not with everything you're going through. I'll do the party if you want but please don't feel obligated."
"I like your work. And like I said, Lindy and Ric want the party too."
"If you're sure…"
"I'm sure," Tracey said firmly. "Could you come over tomorrow to get an idea of our place? You can go from there."
"Sure," Maxine said, feeling as if she were in Alice In Wonderland rather than Willy Wonka. She clicked the phone off and sat down in shock.
Heath looked up from where he was carefully filling chocolate molds. "What's up?"
"That was Tracey Vandemeer. She wants us to cater her daughter's birthday party."
"That's great news," he said , his face lighting up in a smile. "See, I told you there was nothing to worry about."
"It seems…." She paused, shuddering. "I mean she's just buried her husband."
"People grieve in their own ways," he said. "If she wants to grieve by throwing her daughter a lavish birthday party who are we to complain?"
"You're right," she said. But she couldn't shake the feeling there was something horribly wrong. Still, as Heath said, for them it was good news. She'd been counting on building the catering side of the business as well as her shop when she leased this space. Though the chocolate shop seemed busier than ever now she wasn't sure how long that would last. Morbid curiosity wasn't a good platform to build your business on.
As it was she was hoping tourists would start making their way, lemming like, up from where the cruise ships docked and around the inner harbour. To her chocolate shop, Au Chocolat, where they could be wowed by such classics as salted caramels and English toffee, to more trendy chocolates flavored with hot chili and green tea. She'd even come up with a bacon flavored one which was hugely popular.
"You should rename it, CHOCOLATE TO DIE FOR," Sam Dixon, friend, artist and owner of the art gallery next door, had said, only half-joking. "You're already making news because of what's happened. You need to own it." His intense, blue eyes had held hers like a tractor beam, even as a hint of a smile played around the corner of his mouth and he stirred a cup of coffee. "Do some advertising, turn it to your advantage. I'll give you the sign at cost."
She shuddered slightly at the idea. "It feels ghoulish," she complained.
"You didn't kill anyone," he said firmly. "You shouldn't have to suffer for the misdeeds of others."
"It doesn't mean I should take advantage of it," she said, filling his coffee.
He shrugged, unrepentant. "Change your mind, let me know."
"Yeah, no," she said lightly.
As she drove out to Tracey Vandemeers' though, she had to admit there was a little, tiny, part of her who said, wasn't that exactly what she was doing now? The other part of her was too excited by the prospect of turning Tracey's place into a Willa Wonka chocolate factory.
As she turned onto Vandemeer Drive and down towards the house at the end of the street she felt her eyes widen in surprise. Not bad. Not bad at all. The view was stunning. Over-looking Saanich peninsula a patch-work of verdant farm-lands gave way to blue ocean waters.
The house itself was huge. An updated take on classic craftsman style she'd guess it was easily 5,000 square feet. Tracey waited for her at the front door, having evidently heard her drive up.
"It's so good to see you" she said brightly as Maxine greeted her. She was wearing a casual, but fashionable, top and yoga pants. Her hair looked relaxed with a comfortable ease about it usually only achieved with the help of a pricey hair-cut. She appeared to be weathering the death of her husband well.
Too well, Maxine couldn't help thinking as she greeted her. "It's a beautiful place you have here."
Tracey shrugged. "You've never been here before?"
"No," Maxine said.
"It's been a good house for us," Tracey said. "The children have grown up here and it was a great place to entertain." Her eyes teared up. "We did a lot of entertaining with Ron…" she broke off here.
"You must have a lot of good memories," Maxine said quickly.
"And there'll be more," Tracey said, her voice squeaking as she blinked back tears. She gave a forced smile to Maxine. "Would you like the grand tour or should we just get down to it."
"Whichever you think best," Maxine said.
"Then for now we'll stick to the areas the party will be in," Tracey said pouring her a cup of coffee. The kitchen will be open but mainly we'll have it in the living room. She led the way to a huge Great Room over-looking the valley and the pool.
Maxine gasped. The view was literally jaw dropping. Light filled the room itself and a large sectional, in front of a fireplace gave way to a deck, which looked more like an outdoor living room, with wicker furniture and grass green cushions along with a large patio table creating an inviting area to relax in, while watching over kids or just having a drink.
"It's a little chilly out so we'll stay in here."
Maxine just nodded. "For the party will we be staying inside?"
Tracey paused, considering. "I think so. We'll have the cake and presents in here. Afterwards if the weather's good everyone may congregate outside but I think we'll stay away from swimming for this party."
"So, minimal decorating out there. Most of it will be in here."
"That sounds right. Although if it's a nice day a chocolate fountain and fruit dip would be good."
"We could have one incorporated in the over-all decorating. If it's nice we'll move it out-doors." Already Maxine's mind was racing coming up with ideas.
"Why not one for both," Tracey said. "We just won't put the patio one out if the weather's bad."
"It will add to the cost," Maxine cautioned.
"I'm not worried about the cost," Tracey said quickly. "Anything that makes this time easier for my kids is … is worth it."
Maxine jumped in quickly before Tracey got bogged down in grief. "Then I have to tell you I've got all kinds of ideas. Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory was one of my all-time favorites too but I'll need a budget."
"It's whatever you need," Tracey said.
That was pretty much a caterer's dream Maxine thought. Then again she didn't like to take advantage. "I can usually create the same over-all theme for a party at different price points. It's just a matter of the details."
Tracey shook her head, waved her hand. "Please, I don't want to think about money right now."
Maxine went over different options. "How many kids will there be?"
"We're thinking twenty to thirty kids," Tracey said, "and then some of the mothers."
"So, about?" Maxine said, shocked. Her most expensive birthday party had cost her a total of two hundred dollars. Even with the cheapest option this birthday party was going to be way over that.
"Forty to fifty tops," Tracey said without blinking an eye. "Naturally we'll want an area away from the kids but that won't be decorated to the same degree. And the main cake will be for the party but a smaller one with appetizers or a taster plate for the adults would be very nice."
"Very nice," Maxine said, barely able to contain her shock.
She left with a check for five thousand dollars and instructions to call if she needed anything more.
She spent over half of it on chocolate. Milk chocolate and dark, white chocolate and colored, in bricks to be tempered and rolled, melted, molded and sculpted. Her imagination was in overdrive as she thought of all the different things to do with the chocolate. Flowers, trees, mushrooms and of course, some type of chocolate river.
"Piece of cake," Heath said when she told him her plans. "We'll use a fountain but instead of the usual bowl at the bottom to catch the chocolate I'll get some materials from the building supply store. We can make a small river and use a small pool same as they use for gardens. I did landscaping with my uncle for a couple of seasons." He flashed her a huge smile. "Like I said, piece of cake."
She breathed a sigh of relief. "You'll be in charge of that then," she said, pleased beyond words at how he'd stepped up to the plate. "I can temper the chocolate and do some things now. But I can't do too much too soon. It's going to be a lot to do in a couple of days so I'm going to have to see if I can find anyone to help us."
"I know a couple of people from college," Heath said casually.
"Perfect. Give them a call and have them come by the shop. I'll talk to them and see if it's a good fit." She was pretty sure it would be but it paid to be careful.
Something her Grandma Ellie didn't agree with as she relaxed at home, later that evening. Home, to her, consisted of a small suite in her grandmother's house. Her mother had thought that would be a good way of keeping an eye on Ellie while giving her cheap rent.
Keeping an eye on Grandma Ellie, however, was another matter. You might just as well keep an eye on the wind. At seventy she did more than most young people Maxine knew, including herself.
A fact her grandmother pointed out to her on more than one occasion. "You need to take chances, live a little."
"Grandma I am. Opening up this chocolate shop is a huge leap for me."
"It's a good start," Ellie said. "But live a little. Go out. I date more and you're young. Find some young man and have a fling. You don't have to be so serious all the time."
"I don't have time," Maxine said, semi-seriously. For just a minute she allowed herself to think about the man of her dreams. Smart, funny…
"Make time," Ellie said smartly. "What about this Sam Dixon? And that detective?"
"They're just friends," Maxine said hastily. "That's all."
"Change it," Ellie said laughing. "You think the only way to meet men is on date? You meet men all the time."
"You do," Maxine protested laughing. It was true. Her grandmother drew men to her like a bee around honey. In the last year she'd dated a yoga instructor, librarian, retired stock broker, salsa dancer. The list went on but it was hard to keep track. A bright vibrant woman, in her early seventies Ellie was an artist who loved life and didn't show any signs of slowing down though the death of Maxine's grandfather four years ago had stopped her in her tracks for over a year. But her motto 'Life is for the Living' had stood her in good stead.
"Anyway, I've got a job for you. I was talking to Arnie and he said they're stuck for someone to do their volunteer appreciation lunch. It's on July 24th. That won't be a problem will it?"
Maxine's' eyes went wide. "How many?" she said.
"Arnie said about fifteen. It'll just be a light lunch for the board and then tea and cake for the volunteers. Volunteers will be in the hundreds. You'll have to check with him."
She grabbed Ellie and hugged her. "I'll make it work!"
Ellie laughed. "I knew you would. Now do you have any idea who's behind Ron Vandemeers death?"
"I'd say Wendy Carr just because she seems the only one capable of doing such a thing but I never heard her say anything bad about Ron."
"That's probably a first," Ellie said tartly. "That woman's tongue should be considered a deadly weapon."
"Agreed. I thought I'd take a run out and look at West Shore developments. See if there's anything I can see."
"I can ask a few questions," Ellie said.
"You stay out of this," Maxine said hastily. The last thing she needed was her grandmother running around trying to solve a murder. Her mother would kill her.
"A few questions wouldn't hurt. I wouldn't say why I was asking."
"Grandma. NO!" Maxine said. She jumped up. "I've got to go or I'll lose the light."
"You should take someone with you," Ellie grumbled. "That nice young cop. I bet he'd be happy to help you explore."
"All I'm doing is taking a look around. In a public place. Just to get a feel for the project. I'll be fine on my own." Besides Patrick would r
eact in much the same manner she reacted at the thought of grandma getting involved. Within minutes she was driving her little red smart car down the Old Island Highway and out close to Langford Lake, home of West Shore Developments, one of many contributing to an ongoing building boom in the western communities.
She parked on a side street and walked up to a huge tract of land walled off with chain link fence. Closer to the lake it looked as if there were a few streets of houses. But there were acres and acres of land that had been bulldozed and flattened ready for building. An array of dump trucks, graders and other earth moving equipment stood abandoned while huge billboards proclaimed the start of a new era with a designed neighborhood filled with an array of housing that included everything from small houses to townhouses and condos. It was an ambitious project, she'd give Ron that. But was it enough to get him killed?
The street she was on consisted of a large number of boarded up and empty houses. Combined with non-existent street lights it was enough to give anyone second thoughts Maxine thought, shivering in the early evening air. Pausing for a moment she stood looking up and down the street.
Why wasn't this part of the development? It looked as if most of the inhabitants had sold. If not to West Shore Developments, then who? She heard, rather than saw the whirr of an approaching scooter and turned to find herself directly in the path of an old woman, intent on running her down.
"You, get out of my way," the woman called out as she jumped back to avoid being rammed.
Her heart hammered in her chest. She clutched the thin jacket she wore closer to her, as if hoping it would protect her. Anger and outrage combined with fear as she protested. "How dare you? You just about run me down and then you order me out of the way?"
The woman brandished an umbrella she'd pulled out. "You're standing in front of my house. Don't you try and stop me going in! I'll not have any of your shenanigans. Forcing innocent people out of their houses! I've lived here fifty years. The only way I'm leaving is in a pine box."