Sweet Revenge (Cocoa Narel Chocolate Shop Mysteries Book 1)

by Morgana Best

  “Don’t you want to know why I killed them all in different ways?”

  “Sure,” I said. I wondered if I should jump her now, before she had time to get whatever weapon she had from inside her bag, but she was too far from me. By the time I got half way to her, she would have that weapon out of her bag.

  “It was to throw the police off the track,” she said. “I thought different methods would confuse them.” She cackled.

  Then something occurred to me. “Why did you try to kill me, Lucinda?”

  “Obviously, I’m going to kill you now because you’ve figured out that I’m the murderer, and you were about to call the police and tell them. They haven’t figured it out for themselves yet,” she said with a sneer. “But if you must know, I tried to shoot you because that hot guy is interested in you and not in me—although why, I can’t imagine.”

  “Tom, I mean Borage, Fletcher?” I asked her. “I didn’t think he was your type. You used to bully him at school.”

  She shrugged. “He wasn’t hot then, but he sure is now! And why would he be attracted to you? You used to be hideous.”

  “But I’m not now.” I instantly regretted the words, as a look of rage covered her entire face.

  She reached for her bag, so I thought of something to say to forestall her. “I think you killed Mandy because she married your husband, and am I right in assuming she was having an affair with him while you were still married?”

  Lucinda’s face grew redder, but her hand dropped away from her bag, much to my relief. “Yes, that little… She was having an affair with him, behind my back. She married him and she didn’t stay married for long at all. She only did it to get him away from me. She always was competitive with me. I’ve always hated her. I was just waiting for my opportunity.”

  “And Guy Smith,” I asked her. “He was a doctor, and he gave evidence against you at your trial.”

  “Right again,” she said. “Full marks. And when I looked through the window, I saw what you’d written on your whiteboard. I paid Ridgewell a lot of money to represent me in that trial and he lost. He didn’t put any effort into it at all; I was just another job to him. His heart wasn’t in it. He overcharged me, but now he’s paid the price.” She giggled at what she thought was her joke.

  I still hadn’t come up with a plan, so I thought if I could keep her talking and edge closer to her, then I would be able to put up I struggle at least. “So why did you kill Hamilton Howes?” I inched forward ever so slightly.

  Lucinda clenched and then unclenched her fists. “I didn’t want to kill Hamilton. I was actually having a one night stand with him.” She laughed. “Or a five night stand, if you want the truth. He figured out I killed Guy and Ridgewell, because he caught me putting the bow and arrows back in their hiding place.”

  I edged forward a little. “Where did you hide the bow and arrow?”

  “Simple.” She smirked at me. “There’s a trapdoor in the ceiling of the bathroom in the motel where I’m staying. I simply put it up there. Hamilton came into the bathroom and saw me with it, and then he knew that I killed Ridgewell and Guy.”

  “But how did you overpower him and get him to the train line?” I asked her. Despite my situation, I was intrigued.

  “He was already quite drunk at the time. That man never could hold his alcohol. I just shot him up with some insulin.”

  “How did you get time to fetch the insulin?” I could picture it all now. Hamilton, drunk, staggering into the bathroom and catching Lucinda, who I assume was standing on the toilet seat or a chair, about to put the bow and arrows through the trapdoor.

  She smirked again. “It was in my little bag of tricks. When he caught me with the bow and arrow, I was only inches from where I’d hidden a syringe of insulin in the ceiling. It was a simple matter just to jab him, given he was so drunk. The only trouble I had was dragging him to my car, but luckily for me he was such a skinny guy, and I work out. He was already gone when I put him on the train line. He never knew what hit him. It was sad, given that he gave me such expensive jewelry.” She patted her neck. She was a wearing a huge twisted rope necklace with an enormous jewel at the end. The jewel looked fake to me. He had probably bought it at the dollar shop, but that fact seemed lost on Lucinda.

  I then figured she probably had a syringe filled with insulin in her bag. That wasn’t good, but it was better than a gun. If she tried to inject me with insulin, at least I’d have a fighting chance in a struggle with her. However, she worked out and I was still recovering from a series of major surgeries. “Why did you wait so long to kill Guy, Ridgewell, and Mandy?” I asked her.

  “Simple. It was the first time they’d all been together in years, and there would be lots of suspects. Now, you tell me; how did you realize it was me?”

  I took another tiny step. “You said you saw Hamilton and Borage out together. Borage had taken a photo, and in it, Hamilton was wearing a black suit. You said something rude about my dress, that it was the same brown color as what Hamilton was wearing when he was killed.”

  “I don’t follow,” she said.

  I sighed. “The last time Hamilton was seen in public, he was wearing a black suit. You said he was wearing brown when he died. How did you know? I know it was on the news, briefly, but you’d recently had eye surgery. It was that fact that led me to figuring it out. Ridgewell had two arrows in him, and the arrow missed me. If the murderer was a bad shot, why would he or she choose an arrow? The fact that you’d recently had eye surgery was what did it for me.”

  Lucinda’s face contorted with rage. She reached into her bag. “Do you want to know what I’m going to do to you?”

  “Not really.” My voice came out as a squeak.

  Lucinda lunged at me then, at the same time pulling a syringe from her bag. I tried to duck out of the way, but tripped backward over Mongrel’s cat basket, tipping it on its side. As Lucinda threw herself on top of me, her neck hovered over the door to the basket.

  What happened next is something I have tried to forget many a time, but have never succeeded. I can only assume that Mongrel saw the rope jewelry necklace around Lucinda’s neck. I saw a flash of ginger fur as he launched himself at her face.

  Lucinda fell down, screaming, with the enraged cat on her face. She managed to fling him off immediately, but he turned in mid-air and flung himself back at her face, just as she was struggling back to her feet. She went back down. Horrible sounds emanated from her face, and I didn’t know if they were hers or Mongrel’s. It didn’t take me long to realize they were the sounds that came from his basket when he was eating his food.

  I ran for my phone, my hands clasped over my ears. I called the police and just as I did, Carl came through the door. Carl screamed at the sight of Mongrel attacking Lucinda. The syringe had already rolled out of her hand, and I retrieved it. “The police are on their way,” I told him, my hands firmly back over my ears.

  Carl pointed at Lucinda, his eyes open wide in horror. “Shouldn’t we get the cat off her, Narel?”

  “You do it,” I said. Carl shook his head in terror.

  Lucinda was still screaming for help, although why she thought I would help her when she had just tried to murder me was beyond me. In the end, Carl and I clung to each other and averted our eyes from the scene until the detectives got there.

  Chapter 22

  “This place is a depressing mess, Narel,” Carl said frankly.

  I was more than a little hurt, but it was honestly hard to disagree. I looked around at my little one-bedroom cottage. It was constantly dark with very little natural light, though with the way I’d decorated it, I considered that maybe darkness was something of a mercy. Truth be told, using the word ‘decorated’ almost felt like an insult to decorators.

  “I know; I know,” I admitted, sighing. “But you know how busy I’ve been, with someone trying to murder me and all. I didn’t realize just how depressing this place was. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here and thought about it
.”

  Carl smiled warmly. “I’d say that you could make this place your own and warm it up a bit, but I think you’re better off just buying a new one. It’s not like you don’t have the money for it.” He raised an eyebrow as he said it.

  I laughed. “Yeah, you’re right again. I told Borage I’ll probably buy a bigger place, but I don’t want to do so until the business has taken off.” It’s true that I could afford a bigger place, a much bigger place really, and it would probably be completely fine. But there was something about spending so much money that didn’t sit right with me until I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it wouldn’t come back to bite me. I considered that it might be something as simple as not being able to relax while I was in a new house if I felt any guilt about buying it in the first place.

  “Oh, Borage, is it?” Carl teased. “I didn’t realize you were discussing life decisions already. How many kids have you got planned? And will kids be safe from Mongrel?” He pointed to Mongrel, who was now out of his basket and close to us, watching us. It seemed that his attack on Lucinda had cheered him up. A long piece of her hair still hung to the side of his mouth, but there was no way that Carl or I would attempt to remove it.

  I punched Carl in the arm playfully, though hard enough that he knew not to pursue it further. “Just eat your dinner, Carl,” I said, laughing. He looked down at his plate and then back at me, quizzically.

  “When’s it coming?” he asked. I didn’t know what to make of his question, as I’d already served him a chocolate panna cotta with a side of fudge brownie squares.

  “It’s right there in front of you,” I said, confused.

  He looked down at it and laughed. “I should have known, Narel. It’s so like you to serve this kind of thing as a dinner.” He picked up his spoon and started eating.

  I shrugged, figuring he was telling some kind of inside joke that was beyond me.

  “Well,” Carl said between mouthfuls. “If you’re not going to be moving into a better place soon, you could at least make this one less depressing to be in. Have you considered decorating?”

  “Carl, I haven’t considered anything apart from not dying, and trying to run a business,” I said, more sternly than I intended. “I think you’re right, though. If I can find the time, I’ll clean up a little.”

  “Clean up a little?” he asked. “I think you’d need a flamethrower or some kind of Special Ops team to sort this place out. I mean, it’s not that it’s dirty, but it’s just so... awful,” he said, more earnestly than I would have liked. “Sorry, Narel, but it can’t be good for you to be in a place like this.”

  I started to argue my position, but was interrupted when I noticed my bright lime-green cat-embroidered curtains blowing gently behind him. I sighed aloud. “Yeah, I think you’re right,” I said, frowning. It was hard to admit, but I’d be a fool not to. Decoration hadn’t exactly been my strong suit, though I seemed to be oblivious to this fact until recently. “Any recommendations?” I asked hopefully.

  Carl sat for a moment, laying his spoon on the plate and looking around. “Well, like I said, I’d just buy a new house.” He laughed. “But honestly, I’d just start from scratch. This couch looks like an old British professor’s jacket, and I think your table might be an undiscovered color—one which I’d like to remind you should have stayed undiscovered, though it does make our existing color spectrum somewhat more pleasant by comparison.”

  I winced as he spoke, and it was apparent that he really, really hated my house. The more he explained, the more I realized that I agreed with him. “Well, let’s go shopping soon,” I suggested. “I’d like to get some nice decorations. But only on the condition that I don’t make it as white-washed as your place,” I teased.

  Carl looked a bit hurt by that comment, but agreed nonetheless.

  “Just remember that I’m staying here to be careful about my money,” I said. “So I can’t go buying too much, or I may as well just move into a nicer place.”

  Carl nodded happily. “It’s a date,” he said with a mouthful of food. “I won’t tell Borage. Wouldn’t want him to get jealous.”

  “Oh, come on! Stop teasing me,” I said, though I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Wait, he hasn’t seen this place, has he?” Carl’s expression was grim.

  “Unfortunately yes, as you know,” I said seriously. “He came inside just after Lucinda shot at me. Maybe just up and buying a new house isn’t such a bad idea after all.”

  “Good, good,” Carl said with a sigh of relief. “It’s a wonder he didn’t appear on the news going on and on about your decorating!”

  “Oh, that’s enough now; you’ve made your point,” I said sternly. “Though speaking of which, I believe the news is on in a minute.” I flicked on my ancient box TV and switched to the news. It wasn’t long at all before we saw exactly what we’d hoped to see, as Clyde, Rieker, and Lucinda all made their grand debut. She was struggling against her cuffs as they pushed her into the back of a police car, and her face was covered with bandages. Carl and I watched on in silence.

  “It’s funny, isn’t it?” Carl asked.

  “Uh, not really,” I said.

  “No, no, not the whole situation. I mean it’s funny to watch this sort of thing after having lived it. I’ve seen thousands of these sorts of news stories, but there was always a complete detachment from it. It’s easy to forget that they’ve had a really horrible impact on the world. At least, in this case she has,” Carl said, his voice trailing off.

  I continued to watch as the news reported that Lucinda had been denied bail, and felt a wave of relief wash over me. “Thank goodness for that,” Carl said, rubbing his temples. I nodded in agreement and watched as the news switched stories.

  “Anyway, that was delicious Narel, thank you,” Carl said happily, rubbing his stomach. “It wasn’t what I had in mind when you invited me over for dinner, but it was certainly within your culinary expertise.”

  “Do you want dessert?” I asked, and Carl laughed. When I didn’t look away or say anything else his laugh stopped immediately, and he looked a bit stunned.

  “Uh, not right now, thanks,” he said. I shrugged and fetched a bowl of assorted gourmet chocolates, bringing it back to the table and sitting it down.

  “Help yourself when you’re ready,” I exclaimed happily.

  “Does Borage like chocolate?” Carl asked.

  I was stunned. “What sort of a question is that? He has a soul, Carl, so of course he likes chocolate. He also likes breathing and puppies. Why would you ask something so ridiculous?”

  “Sorry, sorry. I just mean, you really love chocolate, owning a gourmet chocolate shop and all. I was wondering what sort of interests you and Borage shared.” Carl raised his eyebrows as he spoke, possibly trying to hint at something.

  “I’m not talking about Borage to you, Carl!” I threw a chocolate at him as I said it and cursed under my breath as he nimbly dodged it. I made a mental note to make future chocolates more aerodynamic. And harder. Carl laughed and apologized. Before I could push the point home, I heard my phone ringing. I looked at the caller ID: Borage.

  “Hello?” I asked, feeling a little nervous.

  “Hi, Narel, it’s Borage. I just saw that Lucinda was refused bail on the news, and I wanted to call and check that you’re doing all right.” Borage sounded earnest, but a little nervous. He was probably as shaken up as I was about it all.

  “I’m okay. Thanks, Borage. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t affect me, but I’m dealing with it. Knowing that she’s probably not getting out of jail is doing me wonders, if I’m honest,” I giggled, then realized it was the least appropriate time imaginable to giggle. I swallowed nervously as Carl smirked at me.

  “Okay, good to know. Well, you’ve got my number, so feel free to call if it all that’s happened ever starts to weigh on you a bit. Oh no, that sounded dramatic.” He laughed awkwardly. “Anyway, my point is that I know what you’re going through, so go ahead and c
all if you need anybody to talk to about it all.”

  I smiled broadly. “I will. Thanks a lot. You do the same.” I was happy to have Borage looking out for me. We said our goodbyes and I hung up.

  “Oh, wipe that big dumb grin off your face, Carl,” I said.

  Carl laughed. “You forgot to ask him to grab dinner on the way home.”

  “Oh, stop it. You’ve had enough fun at my expense.” I thought about throwing another chocolate at him, but figured it would be a waste. Maybe I could find something less delicious to throw at him later. Before I could think of anything, my phone rang again. There was no Caller ID this time.

  “Geez, he’s calling again already. Maybe I should leave and give you two some alone time,” Carl said.

  “No, it’s somebody else,” I explained, answering the phone. “Hello?”

  “Miss Myers, it’s Detective Clyde. I’m calling to let you know that Lucinda Shaw-Smythe was denied bail.” Clyde sounded tired, and I suspected he hadn’t had any sleep since Lucinda had been detained.

  I sighed. “Yes, I saw it on TV. Thanks for letting me know, though. It’s a huge relief.”

  “While I can’t talk about the case in detail, I think it’s safe to say that you don’t have to worry about her from here on out. I know this is a lot easier for me to say than it is for you to do, but try to forget about her if you can. Move on.” Clyde sounded as though he’d had this conversation before.

  “I’ll try. Thanks again for calling.” When I hung up, Carl looked at me quizzically.

  “That was Detective Clyde,” I explained. “Just calling to let me know that Lucinda was denied bail.”

  “Did he ask about me?” Carl asked.

  I laughed. “No, sorry. It was strictly business. But he told me to try to forget about her, to try to move on.” I looked down at my feet as I spoke, lost in thought.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to?” Carl asked.