Fatal Chocolate Obsession (Death by Chocolate Book 5)

by Sally Berneathy

  “He likes you.”

  Three short words that could be taken any number of ways. Considering the flirtatious way Grady Mathis acted, I wondered if Brandon was using likes as a synonym for lusts?

  The phone shrieked. Brandon and I both jumped. I ignored it, knowing Paula would grab it in the kitchen.

  “Your father doesn’t have the best of manners, but I only have to see him during lunch in a business setting.” I gave myself a mental pat on the back for being excruciatingly tactful. It’s not something that comes easily for me. “I don’t live with him like you do.”

  Paula emerged from the kitchen. “Lindsay, Trent’s on the phone.”

  “Excuse me,” I said to Brandon. “I probably ought to take this.” I hated to interrupt our conversation, but Trent only called at work if it was important.

  I picked up the phone behind the counter. “Hello?”

  “Do you have a minute? Is the rush over?”

  “Yes and yes.” He didn’t sound frantic, but he rarely does.

  “Rick’s in Pleasant Grove General Hospital. Somebody tried to kill him last night.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Lindsay? Are you there?” Trent’s voice sounded miles away. He was miles away.

  I swallowed and found my voice. “I’m here.”

  “Are you all right?”

  I stood straighter. “Of course I’m all right. Are you sure somebody tried to murder him? Maybe he’s just being dramatic. He’s big on being the center of attention.”

  “It’s hard to be dramatic when you’re unconscious with a head wound, a broken arm and other contusions.”

  “I guess it would be tough even for Rickhead to fake something like that,” I conceded. “Tough, but not impossible.”

  “Lindsay, he came close to dying.”

  “Close only counts when you’re dropping an atomic bomb. How’d he get to the hospital? If you tell me he drove himself, I’m going to call fake.”

  “His girlfriend found him in his garage lying next to his car. She was able to keep him alive until the ambulance got there. She’s a doctor.”

  “This is getting to be a habit.” I sighed. “Remember a couple of years ago when Bryan Kollar tried to kill him by blowing up his car? Rick really needs to stop being such a jerk that people want to murder him. Is his new girlfriend married?”

  “No, but she…” He stopped in mid-sentence.

  “But she what? Did you just almost tell me something about the ongoing investigation? She’s dating a member of the mob, right? She’s a widow of a member of the mob and she killed her husband. She has an overly protective brother who’s a wrestler and takes steroids.”

  He cleared his throat. “Go meet her yourself. Rick’s been asking for you.”

  “Seriously? He wants me to visit him in the hospital? You’d think he’d be worried I’d finish the job.” In the interest of providing possibly useful information, maybe I should tell Trent about Rick’s middle-of-the-night gifts. But Brandon was still at the counter, and I didn’t want the world to know how completely nuts my ex was. Marrying somebody that crazy reflected badly on my judgment.

  “Probably not a good idea to admit to a cop that you might murder your ex-husband,” Trent said.

  I was pretty sure he was teasing, but it brought up the question of who I was talking to…the cop or my boyfriend. “Got it. So you met the new girlfriend? What kind of doctor is she? Witch doctor? Voodoo doctor? Online degree from the University of Sex on the Beach?”

  “Actually, she’s a medical doctor, a surgeon.”

  “You have got to be kidding me. How on earth did somebody with brains enough to be a surgeon get hooked up with Rick?”

  “You married him.”

  “I don’t want to talk about that. I have to go now.”

  “Are you going to the hospital to see him?”

  “Well, it probably would be the charitable thing to do.”

  “Not to mention that you’re dying to meet this new girlfriend.”

  “That too.” Actually, that was the only reason I was thinking about going and Trent knew it. There’s something both comforting and scary when someone knows you that well.

  “Call me tonight and let me know how that goes.”

  “Okay.” I wasn’t about to share information with him if he wouldn’t share information with me.

  He laughed and hung up. Good grief. Had he also figured out what okay meant?

  “Everything all right?” Brandon asked. He hadn’t finished his pie. Apparently he’d been listening very intently to my conversation.

  I refilled his glass of tea. “Pretty much. Somebody tried unsuccessfully to kill my ex-husband.”

  “I gathered that from what you said. Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

  I smiled. “It’d be hard not to when I’m only a couple of feet away.”

  “Is he going to live?”

  “I guess so. His girlfriend found him in time and saved his life. But he could still get a staph infection or the jealous husband could try again and succeed.”

  Brandon laughed. That was good. I suspected he didn’t laugh nearly enough.

  “Okay,” he said, “getting back to more important things, where do we start looking for this new apartment?”

  Wow! That was easy. I usually have to argue with people a long time to convince them to do things my way. “How about Kansas City North? That should be far enough away from your father.”

  A wide grin spread across his face. His black eye was a little incongruous with the happy expression, but it was better than if he’d been frowning with a black eye. “One bedroom or two?”

  “Umm, well, you could start with one bedroom then move up to two when you need more space.”

  I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but his smile became even wider. “When I have a wife and family. Then I’ll need a house.”

  He was really running with this thing. Maybe a little too fast. Maybe his expectations were unrealistic. “One step at a time. First the apartment, then a new job, then a house.”

  He nodded. “You have a house.”

  “I do, yes. A small house. I got it in the divorce. Before I married Rick, I lived in an apartment.”

  “I see.” He laid some bills on the counter and slid off his stool. “I’m going to go find an apartment right now.”

  “Great! Uh, don’t you have to go back to work?”

  “I’m not going to let my dad push me around anymore.”

  “I see. Okay. Good.” At least, I hoped that was good. I was afraid the break was going to be more difficult than Brandon realized.

  He strode out the door then turned to smile and wave.

  “That intervention was certainly successful,” Paula said.

  I hadn’t noticed her come in from the kitchen, but she’s sneaky like that. “You were eavesdropping.”

  “A skill I learned from you.”

  “You think he’s really going to do it?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. It seemed too easy. His excitement may wear off when he sees how tough it’s going to be.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about. He seemed so pumped and eager.”

  She shook her head. “He’s not going to do it. Not yet anyway.”

  “Probably not,” I agreed. “But I’ve planted the seed.”

  “You’ve got to be patient and supportive with him. Most people who leave abusive situations make several false starts before they finally escape.” Her voice was soft, but the force of it filled the room.

  “Of course I’ll be supportive. I can’t believe you’d even question that.”

  “Sometimes you get a little impatient.”

  “I don’t remember ever doing that.” We both knew it was a lie. There’s nothing wrong with my memory. “Let’s get this place cleaned up. I’m going to the hospital to visit Rickhead and accidentally trip and fall on his wounded body parts.”

  “You’re going to see his new girlfriend.”

>   “Did you hear? She’s a doctor! A real doctor, not a witch doctor. What on earth can she possibly see in him?”

  Paula smirked. “You married him.”

  “That’s the second time today some rude person has pointed that out to me.” I grabbed Brandon’s dirty dishes and headed for the kitchen.

  ***

  Bandages and bruises covered most of Rick’s head, chest and arms. The unbandaged parts had tubes attached making him look like a mechanical octopus.

  He smiled wanly with the side of his face that wasn’t bandaged. “Lindsay, you came.” His voice was quiet and a little slurred. Pain, medication or swelling? Probably all of the above.

  I moved closer to the bed. “You don’t look so good. How do you feel?”

  “Good. I feel good now that you’re here.”

  “What happened? Trent said somebody tried to kill you. Who’d you piss off this time?”

  He made a strange sound that was probably meant to be a laugh. Hard to laugh when half your face is bandaged. “That’s my Lindsay. Call it like you see it. You never let me down.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or an insult. “So what happened? Somebody shove you under a bus?”

  “The scumbag hid in my garage. In my own garage! Jumped me when I got out of the car. But I fought him. Got in a few punches before I went down.” He lifted his left hand, the bruised, unbandaged one with an IV dangling from it. “Police are checking all the hospitals. He won’t get far in the condition I left him in.”

  I refrained from pointing out that physicality was not one of Rick’s strong points. His nine year old son bragged that he beat his dad at arm wrestling. Rick said he let the boy win. Rick never let anybody win.

  “I’m sure they’ll catch him soon. Did you get a good look at him?”

  “No. Coward hit me from behind. In my own garage!”

  He was hung up on the garage thing. “Could be worse. It could have been in your own bathroom.”

  The half smile lit his face again. Was he really laughing at my humor?

  No. A female doctor had entered his room, a drop dead gorgeous female doctor. Tall and willowy with dark skin and short black curls, she could have been on the cover of a fashion magazine instead of wearing a white coat and stethoscope.

  “Hi, Robin,” Rick said.

  “Hello, Rick. How are you doing?” She gave him a wide smile and moved to the other side of his bed to check one of the monitors.

  “Robin, Lindsay. Lindsay, Robin. Ex-wife, meet next wife.”

  Robin? This gorgeous woman was the doctor/girlfriend Trent mentioned? I studied her carefully to see if I could spot the defect that made her think Rick was an appropriate partner.

  The model masquerading as a doctor turned her dazzling smile on me. “Hello, Lindsay. I thought that might be you. Rick’s told me so much about you.”

  “Oh, well, uh…”

  “Isn’t she beautiful, Lindsay?” Rick asked. “Will you marry me, Robin?”

  Doctor Robin made an adjustment to one of Rick’s IVs. “He’s a little loopy right now. We’ve got him on a lot of pain medication.”

  “I didn’t notice any difference from his sober state. How’s he doing?”

  “He came through the surgery quite well. It’s going to be a while before he’s completely healed, but he’s on his way.”

  “I got a great doctor. She saved my life.”

  “I heard,” I said.

  “If she hadn’t come in and found me when I didn’t answer the door, I’d be dead.”

  She smoothed the sheet over him and squeezed his fingers gently then looked at me. “I knew something wasn’t right as soon as I pulled into the driveway. It was starting to get dark, but there were no lights in his house. He didn’t answer the doorbell or his cell phone. I found a key in that fake rock beside the front porch and went inside.” She looked down at him fondly. “That’s not a very good place to hide a key.”

  That fake rock had been my contribution, but Rick was too drugged to point that out. I certainly wasn’t going to.

  “So you found him in the garage?” Yes, that was an established fact, but it was better than blurting out, You’re dating him? You can do so much better!

  Her dark eyes clouded. “He was unconscious and in bad shape. Someone had beaten him with a pipe wrench. I didn’t think he was going to make it.”

  “I hit him back,” Rick said.

  “I know you did. You were very brave.” She laid a hand on his shoulder and gazed at him lovingly.

  Gag.

  Very strange situation. I liked Rick’s new girlfriend, but I doubted we’d ever become bosom buddies because I didn’t like Rick.

  “Well. I’m glad he’s safe and in good hands. I’d better get home and feed my cat. I hope they find whoever did this.”

  “If Rick hurt the attacker as badly as he believes he did, the police should be able to find his DNA. There was a lot of blood.”

  “I hurt him. Made him cry like a baby. I think it was Martian Man.”

  Martian Man? “He really is on a lot of drugs. Is this a flashback to a sci-fi movie?”

  Robin grimaced. “That’s what he calls my former boyfriend, Martin. We spotted Martin in a restaurant the other night, and Rick was convinced he was following me.”

  Not a jealous husband, but it could be a jealous ex-lover. Was that what Trent had almost slipped up and told me? “Was your breakup a bad one?”

  She nodded. “Very bad.”

  “Was he violent?”

  She looked toward the door as though checking to see if anyone else was listening. “He’s a doctor too,” she said quietly. “He was a wonderful person until he started prescribing medication for himself. That’s why we broke up. He was becoming more and more aggressive. I got out before he reached the violent stage, but, yes, it’s possible. The police are looking at him as a person of interest.”

  “I’ve been one of those,” I said. “It’s not as much fun as you might think.”

  She laughed.

  Yeah, under other circumstances, we might be friends.

  “Take care of him. I’ll check back tomorrow.”

  “Thanks for coming by, Lindsay. It was nice to finally meet you.”

  “Love you, Lindsay!” Rick called. “Love you more, Robin. Will you marry me?”

  He really did seem totally besotted with her. Too besotted to be leaving gifts on my front porch?

  I started out the door then stopped as something niggled at my brain, something that didn’t quite fit in place. “You said it was getting dark when you found Rick.”

  Dr. Robin lifted her gaze from the notes she was making on a clipboard. “Yes. I got to his house around seven.”

  “Seven o’clock. Twilight but not dark.”

  “Does that mean something?” Robin asked.

  “No, no. Just curious. Have a good evening.”

  Something was off. I could believe Rick would be crazy enough to leave a gift on my porch even though he was in love with somebody else. But in order to get back to his place, be attacked, fight off the attacker, and lie bleeding until Robin found him, he’d have had to do it in broad daylight and risk being seen by someone. Rick always made his gift-giving trips in the middle of the night.

  I stopped dead in the middle of the hospital corridor, almost causing a collision with a nurse. She frowned at me and hurried on her way. Other nurses and visitors flowed around me, anonymous faces, people I’d never seen before and didn’t really see then.

  Rick had not inquired if I enjoyed his gifts, something he always did after leaving them.

  I had to consider the possibility that Rick was lying in his garage bleeding or in the hospital on drugs when that butterfly appeared on my porch.

  For once Rick might be innocent. Somebody else could have left the butterfly, the flowers and the wine. A stranger could be watching me, writing stupid poems for me, coming onto my porch, to the back door of my restaurant, invading my space, leaving unwelc
ome gifts.

  Chapter Eleven

  I walked out of the hospital to find that the sky had clouded over and the air held a damp chill. Winter was on its way. That seemed appropriate.

  I drove home in a hyper-alert daze. Yes, I know that sounds contradictory, but it’s the only way I can explain it. Every time a car was behind me for more than a block, I looked in the rearview mirror and tried to memorize the license plate, then turned down a side street to see if the car would follow. Once I thought somebody in a car in front of me looked vaguely familiar, but decided that was a little paranoid. It’s difficult to follow somebody from in front.

  It took me a long time to get home.

  When I reached my neighborhood, I peered through the gathering shadows of evening at people walking their dogs, at every tree in case somebody was hiding behind it, inside every car parked in a driveway or on the street. Since I live in a neighborhood built before the days of attached garages, there were a lot of cars parked on the street.

  I turned into my driveway and got out. Early darkness hovered around the edges of the clouds overhead and around my house and yard. My oak tree loomed ominously, its trunk big enough to hide somebody. I really should have trimmed those bushes at the back of my house. A whole gang of stalkers could be hiding in them.

  I shivered. Not because I was scared, of course, but because the air was a little chilly.

  Okay, it’s possible some of that chill was inside me rather than outside. Hard to tell.

  I put my car in the garage, closed the door and wished I could lock it. Not that it mattered. A solid push would bring down the entire structure.

  So far my out-of-season Santa Claus had left gifts on my front porch at home and my back door at work. But who knew what he was going to do next? Climb a ladder to my bedroom window? Be waiting in the back seat of my car when I left for work? He’d have to be extremely short to do that, but short people can be dangerous too.

  Light glowed from Paula’s living room and kitchen windows. Fred’s house was dark, which didn’t mean he wasn’t there. He has blackout shades and heavy curtains on all his windows. Across the street Sophie’s house was also dark. As far as I knew, she didn’t have blackout shades. They wouldn’t have fit with the décor.