Sally Berneathy - Death by Chocolate 02 - Murder, Lies & Chocolate

by Sally Berneathy

  He shone the light all around the room, studying every inch of it carefully, then walked over to the corner where the bricks seemed to be the most disturbed. Squatting…and getting coal dust all over his pants…he picked up some of the sediment between his fingers, tested it, put it back down and ran his fingers over the uneven surface of the bricks.

  “You are never going to be clean again,” I warned him.

  He stood, grinned, walked over to me and drew a grimy finger down my cheek, then kissed me.

  I scrubbed at the streak on my face. “I’d have had to hurt you if you hadn’t thrown in the kiss.”

  “I know.” Then he looked serious, turned back to the room and swept his light over the area. “It looks like somebody’s been digging up your floor fairly recently.”

  Again he was saying things I didn’t want to hear. “Stop being a paranoid cop.”

  “Lindsay, it’s possible you had an intruder last night, a two-legged intruder, not a four-legged critter.” The dead calm in his voice told me he wasn’t feeling at all calm about this.

  “No, it’s not possible. I checked the doors and windows, and they were all locked.”

  He strode over to the boarded-up coal chute and repeated my inspection of the night before, pushing and tugging on each board to be sure it was securely in place.

  I folded my arms and glared at him. “I already did that.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He continued checking it out as if I hadn’t spoken, then finally stepped back and gave me another serious look. “There’s some evidence of disturbance around these boards. Let’s go outside and look at the entrance.”

  I shivered. “I got a better idea. Let’s go outside and sit in the porch swing and make out and talk about what we’re going to do when my divorce is final.”

  He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he switched off the flashlight and came over to me. Putting his arms around me, he leaned close to my ear. I thought the discussion about the phantom intruder was finished.

  “Just as soon as we check out the coal chute entrance,” he whispered.

  That man is almost as stubborn as I am.

  We went upstairs, and I took him out back to the alley. We pushed through my overgrown shrubbery, and I showed him the ornate metal door that had covered the coal chute since the house was built.

  He lifted the big, rusty padlock that held the door securely closed and looked at it. “Where’s the key?”

  “I have no idea. I haven’t had to open it recently for a delivery of coal.”

  He tugged on the lock a couple of times, let it drop, then felt around the edges of the door carefully. “You didn’t get a key from the former owner when you bought the house?”

  I shrugged. “Rick took care of all those details. When I moved in here last year, he gave me the door keys. I had all those locks changed last winter and threw away the old keys. The key to this one could have been in that bunch. You really are being a little paranoid, don’t you think?”

  He took my hand and we started back around to the front of the house. “I’m a cop. Paranoid is what I do. I have to keep you safe long enough to take you up on some of those post-divorce promises.”

  We had just settled into the porch swing when a car door slammed. We both stood and looked toward the street.

  A dark green SUV.

  Rick.

  “Lindsay!” Clad in white knit shirt and white tennis shorts, he charged down the sidewalk and onto my porch.

  From out of nowhere, Henry darted up, putting himself between Rick and me, his back arched, tail high, teeth bared. He doesn’t like Rick and feels the need to protect me from him. If only he’d been around five years ago. If anyone has reason why this man and this woman should not be married… ROWR!

  “Rick. What are you doing here?”

  Rick glared at Trent, and Trent glared at Rick. Neither spoke.

  Henry hissed. Smart cat.

  Rick turned his gaze to me. “I came to see how you’re doing. I heard you got called in for questioning too.”

  “I did, yes, but since I’m not dating the victim’s wife, my interview was pretty simple and nonthreatening.”

  Rick ducked his head as if embarrassed. He wasn’t, of course. He never is. “That’s what I need to talk to you about.” He sent another glare in Trent’s direction.

  Trent squeezed my hand then released it. “I better go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He knew from previous experience that if he stayed, Rick would get crazier and crazier.

  I wouldn’t have minded if the two of them got into a fight because I knew Trent could beat Rick to a bloody pulp, but Trent has all these lofty notions about keeping his job and staying out of jail and that sort of thing.

  “You don’t have to go,” I said. “Rick’s leaving.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Lindsay, we need to talk. I’m ready to sign those papers.”

  I wasn’t sure I’d heard right. “Those papers? Which papers?”

  “The divorce papers, of course.”

  Trent and I shared a look of disbelief. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked.

  If there was even a chance that Rick really meant it this time, I had to take that chance.

  “No, it’s okay.”

  Rick let him go with a curt nod but no sarcastic remark. That was different and, I thought, a good sign.

  I waved as Trent drove away, then I turned back to Rick. “Okay, you’re ready to sign the papers. When do you want to meet with the lawyers and get that done?”

  He walked over and sat down in the swing. “Whenever you say.”

  I remained standing with King Henry beside me. “I’ll call my lawyer tomorrow, and he’ll call your lawyer and schedule an appointment. That’s settled. You can leave now.”

  Rick smiled, draped an arm across the back of the swing and stretched out his tan legs. “Come sit next to me, babe.”

  “No.”

  He stepped up the wattage on his smile. “I’m sorry we’ve had so much trouble getting this resolved, Lindsay.” Rick was apologizing? That was a bad sign. It could only mean he was working a scam. “It’s been hard for me to give you up, but I’ve come to realize, if I really love you, I need to let you go.”

  I looked upward, expecting the sky to fall or a bolt of lightning to strike after such an outrageous lie. “Fine, whatever. I’ll call my lawyer, and he’ll call your lawyer. Good-bye.”

  Rick’s smile developed sad overtones. “I’m trying to make things right, Lindsay. Please let me do that.”

  Henry, making a soft growling sound, sidled closer to Rick.

  Rick shifted as if the swing had suddenly become uncomfortable. “Why is that cat looking at me like that?”

  “He’s psychic. He knows what’s going on in that demented mind of yours, what your real agenda is. You’re not going to sign those papers, are you?”

  “Yes, I am. I just want to do what’s best for you. Lindsay, I’m a changed man.” He drew in a deep breath. “I’ve fallen in love.”

  Henry turned his head and looked at me. He didn’t believe what he’d just heard either.

  “No, you haven’t,” I said. “You’re not capable of love. You’re too shallow.”

  He didn’t even rise to the bait, just kept smiling like he was stoned. Maybe he was.

  “I understand why you’d think that, but this time it’s the real thing.”

  “You said that about Muffy and Becky and Vanessa and—”

  “This is different.”

  Suddenly it hit me. “You’re not talking about Rodney Bradford’s widow, are you?”

  He gave that doper smile again. “Yes, I am talking about Lisa.”

  I shook my head in disbelief and sank to the top step. “This sounds like one of those television shows about sleazy people! You were having an affair with your client’s wife, and now that he’s dead, you’re suddenly in love with her?”

  Rick came over to sit beside m
e. “You make it sound so tawdry! Lisa and I were drawn to each other the first time she came into my office.”

  “That would be when she came in with her husband?”

  “Yes, with her husband, but he wasn’t a very good husband.”

  “I’m familiar with that syndrome.”

  For an instant Rick looked as if he might be going to respond, but then that phony smile came back. “I know I wasn’t a good husband, but I’m trying to make it up to you now. At least I didn’t beat you like Rodney beat poor little Lisa.”

  “Poor little Lisa?”

  “Rodney’s not who you think he is. He just got out of prison a couple of months ago. Lisa was trying to help him rehabilitate, but he just couldn’t escape his past. It was probably one of his criminal buddies who killed him. He was a terrible man.”

  I decided against admitting I already knew about the terrible man’s scenic past. “How awful for poor little Lisa. Thank goodness she’s got a fine man like you now.”

  “I know I haven’t always been the best person, but I’m trying to make up for the wrong things I’ve done.” Rick was definitely up to something, and I’d bet my next month’s profits at Death by Chocolate that it didn’t involve falling madly in love with poor little Lisa.

  “That’s commendable. I’m thrilled for you, and I wish you both the best. Once our divorce is finalized, you can marry her and live happily ever after. I’ll call my lawyer in the morning.”

  I stood and waited, but he didn’t get up to leave. I hadn’t expected him to.

  “That’s big of you, Lindsay, but you always have been a decent person.”

  “I won’t argue with that.”

  “I feel so bad about all the wrong I’ve done. I want to make it up to you for the times I cheated and lied and took advantage of you.”

  “Give me a divorce, and we’ll call it even. I absolve you of all guilt.” I waved my hands through the air. “Veni, vidi, vici.” It was the only Latin I knew. “Absolution granted. No bad karma for you as you go through the rest of your life. Just sign the freaking papers!”

  Finally he stood. I stepped back. Henry, too, got out of his way.

  He leaned over to hug me.

  I drew back. “Don’t do that.”

  He nodded, tried to look abashed, and stepped down to the sidewalk. Then he turned back. “Let me just do this one thing for you so I can ease my conscience. Instead of me taking the big house and you this little one, I’m going to let you have the nice house and I’ll take this one.”

  Aha! “I don’t want your house! I want this one!” All of a sudden, everybody wanted my house.

  “The big one’s worth a lot more. If you don’t want to live there, you can sell it and buy another house. Buy the one across the street so you can still be close to Paula and Fred.”

  I folded my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Really? Live across the street from you and Lisa? That would be cozy.”

  For an instant, an expression of damn, I screwed up flickered across Rick’s face. But only for an instant. Someone who didn’t know him as well as I would have missed it. “Okay, maybe that wasn’t a good suggestion. It was just a thought. The point is, you’ll have lots of options.”

  I shook my head. “Give it a rest. You don’t plan to live here. Why do you want my house?”

  “I just want to do the right thing.”

  I clutched the porch railing in anticipation of a major earthquake that would swallow us all. “If you want to do the right thing, sign those papers exactly as they are and get out of my life!”

  Rick held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Okay, okay. Besides my wanting to do the right thing, Lisa wants to have this place because it meant so much to Rodney.”

  I threw my arms into the air in total frustration. “Poor little Lisa wants to own a house where the man who abused her used to visit his grandparents? You are so full of it, Richard Kramer!”

  I stormed into my house…which was going to remain my house for the foreseeable future…and slammed the door behind me then opened it again to let Henry inside. He marched in with his usual regal grace, giving his long tail a switch, bidding a haughty farewell to Rick.

  “Lindsay,” Rick said, no longer smiling, “I’m trying to do the right thing. Don’t fight me on this or things are going to get ugly.”

  “You’re about nine years late with that prediction.” I slammed the door again.

  Chapter Six

  For a few moments I leaned against the door, steaming, until I heard Rick’s car drive away. Henry wound around my leg and purred loudly. Gradually my breathing slowed and the anger went down a few notches. Amazing how a little feline affection can calm the nervous system.

  I leaned over and lifted him into my arms, grateful for the comfort. He allowed me to cuddle him for a few seconds, then squirmed away and trotted off to the kitchen. I followed. He deserved a treat for threatening Rick.

  I refilled Henry’s bowl of dry food then opened a can of tuna and gave him half. He purred and ate at the same time. The only thing he likes better than tuna is catnip. I considered some of that too, but didn’t want a drunk watch cat if somebody really was trying to break into my house.

  While Henry dined, I called Fred.

  “Were you asleep?” I asked, suddenly realizing it was almost ten o’clock. Not that he’s ever been asleep any time I’ve called. Wouldn’t surprise me to learn he’s figured out a way to eliminate the need for sleep.

  “No. Were you?”

  “I wish. If I were, that would make this entire evening just a bad nightmare.” I told him about everything…my previous night’s adventure, Trent’s suspicions and Rick’s visit.

  “Curious, this sudden interest in your house. It sat on the market for several months before you bought it, and you haven’t made any significant improvements since then.”

  “Hey! You don’t need to be rude.”

  “I’m just being factual.”

  “Maybe I have buried treasure in the basement and somebody just found the secret map.”

  “That’s not likely.”

  “Then why is my house suddenly such a hot property?”

  “It’s not your landscaping.”

  “For your information, the CIA called just the other day wanting to use my yard to train their jungle operatives.”

  “I hope you said no. Let the CIA in, and the whole neighborhood goes downhill.”

  I never know for sure when he’s kidding.

  “Would you see what you can find out about the people we bought this house from, Rodney’s grandparents? Where they went from here, how they died, that sort of thing. I think their name was Murray. They seemed like really nice, normal people, but maybe they were eccentric and buried a fortune in the furnace room in the basement.”

  “That’s extremely unlikely, but even if they did, how would I find out anything about it?”

  “I’ll make you your very own fresh-out-of-the-oven triple chocolate chip cookies with chopped hazelnuts if you’ll find out what the heck is going on with my house.”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Okay.”

  I assumed he was going to hang up without saying good-bye, as he’s prone to do, and had my own receiver halfway to the phone when I heard him speaking again.

  “Lock the door to your basement tonight.”

  If everybody was trying to comfort and reassure me about my safety, they were all doing a pretty lousy job of it. “So you think it was a person, not a mouse, in my basement last night?”

  “Probably a mouse.”

  “Then why should I lock my door?”

  “You want mice in your house?”

  He hung up.

  Like I said, I never know if he’s being serious or kidding.

  I locked the basement door then set a kitchen chair under the knob. Can’t be too careful when you’re dealing with mice.

  ***

  Paula told me the next morning that we had made the ten o’clock news. They’d featured some
great pictures of the cops being interviewed with my sign in full view, and the reporter had mentioned that the dead man’s final act before collapsing on the sidewalk had been to eat dessert at “a local restaurant, Death by Chocolate. Appropriate name.”

  I considered the alternatives…prepare small quantities of everything and pretend all was normal or admit it was far from normal and go with the flow. I chose the latter and made brownies with nuts, dark chocolate chips, semi-sweet chocolate chips and white chocolate chips then layered on thick chocolate frosting and called our special dessert of the day Killer Chocolate.

  I made the right choice. We had a big crowd for breakfast and a huge crowd for lunch. Everyone wanted to know what dessert the murdered man had eaten. I finally drew a line through Killer Chocolate and wrote above it Murdered Man’s Brownies. Okay, it was a little macabre, but we sold out. It’s not my fault if people are strange. I don’t judge. I just feed them chocolate.

  I arrived home around 3:00 exhausted but happy. The shop was thriving in spite of The Incident, I’d had no more night time visitors, and I was no worse off than before with regard to my divorce.

  I refilled Henry’s bowl and caved in to his demands for more tuna. The can was already open, and I wasn’t going to eat any of it. “Maybe we’ll have some catnip tonight,” I promised, “since you don’t need to be on guard.”

  The phone rang. It was Fred. “We’re going to visit the Murrays,” he said.

  “At the cemetery?”

  “No, at Summerdale Retirement Village.”

  “They’re not dead?” I sank onto a wooden chair at my kitchen table. I shouldn’t be surprised to find no morsel of truth in anything Rick told me.

  “Not even close. They’ve been on the golf course this afternoon, and there’s a dance at the Village Center tonight, but they can squeeze in a couple of hours if we hurry.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “I didn’t tell them their grandson died after eating at your restaurant, nor did I tell them you think there’s buried treasure in the basement. I simply told them you’d moved into the place and would like to visit with them about a couple of things.”