Murder By Chocolate

by Beth Byers

“Father,” Hyacinth closed her eyes and added, “Be careful.”

  “The mother has realized,” Denny told Lila.

  “I said to muzzle it.”

  Grandfather Wakefield eyed the room and muttered, “You’re all found wanting.”

  Jack glanced at the others. “Don’t feel as though you need to rush out.” He grinned a little as he added, “But leave.”

  Hyacinth rose woodenly and glanced at her sons. “I need to get the girls out of here. Boys…” Her eyes welled with tears as she looked between them, “…I’m taking the girls to the seaside. We need time to recover from what has happened.”

  “Mother,” Frank snapped, “don’t be ridiculous. If Grandfather is really going to disown us, you don’t have the money and…”

  “I don’t need your permission, Franklin.” She stared at him and then at Liam before she left the room, mouth trembling.

  “She thinks it was one of us,” Liam told Frank. He glanced at Herbert and at Jack before he looked back to Frank. “They all do, and it wasn’t me.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Frank growled back. “You aren’t going to pin this on me.”

  Liam paled as he stared at Frank. The poor man, Violet thought. If she hadn’t realized it was Frank already, she’d have known in that moment. Liam had—up until this moment—been clinging to the useless hope that it wasn’t his brother.

  Liam looked green as he turned to Herbert. “Is Grandfather really going to dismiss us from our positions and disown Mother?”

  “I believe so,” Herbert told Liam. “You both know him. He’s probably going to leave here and go straight to the solicitor.”

  “I didn’t kill Uncle Anderson,” Liam said, almost pleading. “I wouldn’t have.”

  “Well I didn’t.” Frank shoved himself to his feet and then thrust his hands through his hair. “I don’t deserve to be disowned because you messed up.”

  Liam shook his head, almost helplessly. “No. No, I didn’t do anything.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” Frank agreed, but his tone was mocking.

  “Oh my god,” Liam breathed, gazing around with his eyes landing on Frank. “What did you do?”

  “Me?” Frank said. “This whole time I’ve been trying to help you. Just be quiet. Keep calm. You’re going to give yourself away.”

  Liam stared at Frank, head shaking. “What did you do?”

  It could have been Jack’s emotionless gaze that landed on Liam. Only, it was Frank. Frank with the cold, even gaze and that familiar twitch at the edge of his lips. If you knew those eyes as well as Violet did, you might have seen the way the very back of his gaze seemed satisfied. Frank was like an exultant Jack when Jack was trying to hide his feelings.

  He was, Violet thought, like Jack—when Jack knew they were about to catch the killer and didn’t want to let the killer know he was on to them. She shivered. It had been bad seeing someone with Jack’s gaze die. It was nearly as bad to see someone with Jack’s eyes be so evil.

  Geoffrey hurried into the room then, just as they’d planned. “Jack!”

  Jack lifted a brow.

  “Where is that Aina fellow? I need him!”

  “Why?”

  Geoffrey shook his head. He glanced at the room, somehow making himself pale as he saw the two brothers. “I can’t say.”

  “Where have you been?” Jack demanded.

  “I was…” Geoffrey snapped his mouth closed and then said, “I delivered that paperwork for Violet. She told me I needed more sun, and I bicycled over. I…” Geoffrey gave Jack quite a meaningful glance and then stage whispered, “I can’t speak of it here.”

  Liam snorted and then he told his brother coldly, “Looks like you weren’t as clever as you thought. The boy knows something that he needs to tell the constable. I bet it has to do with you.” Liam wasn’t as clever as Jack and Frank, but he wasn’t stupid either. “Who would get paperwork from Violet?” Liam’s grin was slow and fury-filled as he said, “I bet it was the chocolatier. Violet knows Mariposa Jenkins was just your tool. Violet wouldn’t abandon the woman. She has little ones.”

  Frank glanced at Geoffrey, who squeaked.

  “We need the constable, Jack.”

  Jack rose slowly, eyeing the two brothers. “Aina did say the evidence would out. It always does.”

  Liam giggled at that and Denny joined in. Lila eyed them all askance. “I admire the fortitude of your family murderer, Jack. So many try to run or…”

  Frank rose slowly. “I think we’re done with your games here.”

  “Off to find the chocolatier and see what she knows?” Liam demanded, laughing. “Off to murder her too and then try to pin that on me as well? What was the plan, Frank? Was it to kill me and make it look like a suicide? Was it to wait until things had calmed down and then do a better job of poisoning me? You think you’re so clever.”

  “Your hysterics won’t convince them that you didn’t do it,” Frank told Liam.

  “I don’t need to,” Liam laughed, wiping away a tear. “You might be smarter than me, but you know what? No one likes you. Not even Mama. You’d have had to get rid of me too. You’d have to kill me too, but you didn’t take into account the widowed chocolate-maker. It makes sense, doesn’t it? Thinking you’re smarter than everyone and then failing when it comes to a poor woman just trying to keep her children in a home.”

  “Shut up,” Frank said. “You—”

  “How did he know?” Geoffrey asked Jack. “How did Liam figure out that one of the children saw who brought the nuts?”

  Frank paused just long enough that Violet realized their gamble had paid off. He wasn’t in the clear if someone had witnessed that, and now he was worried.

  “Uh oh,” Liam laughed. “You really are the monster the girls claim, aren’t you? You killed Anderson and you were wrong the whole time! Now we’ve lost everything because you were so worried that Anderson would do what you would do. You judged Uncle Anderson by your own measure. You should have given him more credit. How many more times are you going to mess up?”

  Frank turned on Liam and shouted, “Shut up! One of the brats saw? Of all the…”

  “Calm down,” Jack said and Frank turned on Jack. Frank’s cold, snake gaze narrowed and in a breath he lunged. He didn’t go for Jack, though, he went for Violet. She gasped as Frank took her by the hair and neck.

  “Oh now!” Denny said. “Let’s not be hasty.”

  “If I have to lose,” Frank told Jack. “Maybe you should lose too.” He dug his fingers into Violet’s throat, and she felt something cold and sharp at her neck. Her gaze met Jack’s. She saw the panic there.

  “Let her go,” Jack commanded Frank. Jack’s gaze was fixed on Violet’s and she felt his love encompass her. Then she looked beyond Jack to Geoffrey. He looked nearly as terrified as Jack. She tried to smile at both of them, but Frank grasped her hair again and she gasped instead.

  “Why should I? We should both lose. You let yourself be captured by a woman. I see how you look at her. Let me set you free.”

  Violet closed her eyes as she felt the bite of the blade into her neck. She gasped as Jack shouted, “Don’t.”

  “Stay where you are.” Frank pulled Violet towards the exit of the room. He held her still with one hand digging the blade into her neck while his second hand grappled for the door knob.

  “Let her go,” Jack said again. “This won’t help you.”

  A moment later, the door opened and something slammed into her. Jack grabbed the wrist at her neck, and yanked her away, and they turned as one to see what had happened.

  Nan and Ursula stood in the doorway, eyes wide, Nan held Grandfather Wakefield’s cane like a champion cricket player and the old man leaned against Ursula.

  “Got him,” Nan told Ursula. “I told you he’d try something.” The last statement was directed at Geoffrey. “You should never have let him get near Vi. I told you he was a snake.”

  “I…” Geoffrey’s too pale skin flushed and he stared
open-mouthed.

  “I told you,” Violet said, wrapping herself around Jack while pressing a hand to her neck. “That’s the type of woman you want.”

  She laughed weakly into Jack’s chest as Geoffrey seemed to defy what was possible and blush even more deeply. They, all of them, turned on Frank, who lay stunned on the ground, holding the back of his head.

  “I got you,” Nan told him with disdain. “You never were going to win in the end.”

  He stared at her, hatred and stupefaction in his eyes.

  “You think you’re so smart, but you always overlook the girls. Violet, Ursula, me, even Mama. We all knew what you were. All we had to do was wait and you’d hang yourself.”

  “Nan?” He stared at her. “What are you talking about?

  “It was always you,” she told him. “I knew it as soon as Uncle Anderson died. Thankfully, Violet listened and she knows about being a sister too. I told her just what to say to make you think you’d been caught.”

  “You did this?” Frank growled. If he weren’t surrounded by Liam, Jack, and Aina—who had never left—he’d have wrung her neck.

  “I promised you when you killed Kitty I would help the world see what you really are. You should have listened.”

  Chapter 17

  When Violet arrived at Victor’s house, he was pacing in the garden alone. She took one look at him and demanded, “Kate?”

  “Violet Junior is coming,” he said, hands shaking. His hair was askew, his eyes were wild, and he looked unhinged. “Vi…what if I lose her?”

  Their gazes met, twin to twin, and it said something about his state of mind that he didn’t notice the bandage at her neck where Frank’s blade had cut her.

  “You won’t,” she swore.

  “What if I do? I can’t…I can’t go on without her.”

  She glanced at Jack, who pulled a cigar out of his coat. “Let’s pace, old man. Violet is going to take care of Kate and everything will be fine.”

  “Stop lying to me,” Victor snapped, running his hands through his dark hair. “I…I…”

  Jack lit the cigar and handed it to Victor, who stared at it blankly.

  “Put it in your mouth,” Denny told Victor, who obeyed woodenly.

  Violet raced up the stairs to the bedroom where she found Kate holding onto the post of her bed as a calm midwife looked on.

  “Kate?”

  Kate turned to Violet and snarled, “You!”

  “Me.”

  “This is your fault.” She groaned deeply and then leaned over to pant.

  “I don’t see what Violet had to do with it,” Lila said merrily. “But I approve of your general meanness.”

  Kate groaned again and Lila asked, “Do you think it would be amiss if I had a drink?”

  “I’ll kill you when this is over,” Kate told Lila, holding her stomach. “Get this beast out of me.”

  “I do like this version of Kate,” Lila told Violet.

  “Muzzle it,” Violet told Lila, crossing to Kate. “Surely you’ve read all about this?”

  Kate gasped then caught her breath. “I have. Reading doesn’t prepare you. My…my…southern area is on fire.”

  “I told you to lie down and push,” the midwife told Kate.

  “I don’t want to.”

  Violet pulled the covers back on the bed, took Kate by the hand. “I almost got murdered today.”

  “Don’t make this about you.”

  “This is worse,” Violet added consolingly, pushing Kate onto the bed and lifting her feet up. “It’s so much worse.”

  Kate groaned again and then huffed rapidly.

  “This is what we’re going to do,” Violet told her. “You’re going to get that thing out of you.”

  “Don’t call my baby a thing,” Kate snapped.

  “Then I’ll help you make a eunuch of my brother.”

  Kate laughed and her gaze met Violet’s. “He’s so scared.”

  “He loves you more than anything.”

  Kate’s eyes welled with tears and she gasped, “I love him too. The stupid bastard. Bloody hell, it hurts. Don’t have a baby.”

  “I’ll just borrow yours sometimes,” Violet agreed.

  “She needs to push,” the midwife told Violet.

  “She doesn’t want to,” Kate yelled and then she groaned.

  “But she’s going to,” Violet told Kate flatly. She took Kate’s hand. Their gazes met and then Kate nodded.

  Violet wasn’t sure how much time passed but when the squall filled the air, Kate dropped back onto the pillows, and Violet wanted to do the same. They all leaned in as the slime-covered, bloody baby cried out. The midwife wrapped the baby in a blanket and then handed it to Lila.

  “My baby,” Kate moaned, “I want my baby.” She told Violet, “Never have a baby.”

  “You aren’t done yet, love.” The midwife glanced at Violet and then back at Kate. “Once more.”

  Kate’s gaze met Violet’s with horror, and she whispered, “I hate your brother.”

  “The fiend,” Violet agreed and then gasped as Kate squeezed Violet’s hand hard. A moment later, a duet of crying filled the air, echoing Kate’s gasping. “You’re a hero.”

  Kate dropped back onto the pillows. “Never again.”

  Violet glanced up as Lila placed the first baby in Kate’s arms while the midwife handed Violet the second baby. She gazed down in shock as she saw the little person. Had there ever been anything more beautiful or perfect?

  “What are they?” Kate asked as she wept onto the face of the first twin. Together Violet and Kate glanced at the midwife.

  “Girls.”

  Violet gasped and realized she was crying. There was something magical in meeting the little person in her arms. Seeing those first breaths, realizing that the baby felt familiar. She felt like someone Violet had been missing, someone who had always belonged in that spot in her heart.

  “Hello beautiful creature.” A moment later, Violet ordered, “Tell Victor Kate is all right.”

  “They’re wonderful,” Lila said and hurried from the room, crying herself.

  “I demand jewelry,” Kate laughed. “And chocolate. I need a cocktail or a dozen.”

  “Whatever you want,” Violet agreed, joining Kate on the bed to gaze upon the first twin. “Would you look at these beautiful things?”

  Kate was sniffling as she reached out and slowly caressed the face of her youngest and then turned back to her oldest. “Say hello to little Agatha.”

  Violet had been crying before but at that name, the tears became a waterfall. She couldn’t speak. She could hardly breathe.

  “She’s perfect. They’re perfect.”

  “And,” Kate said with a laugh as Victor rushed into the room with wild exultant eyes, cutting her off.

  “You did it,” he called and then rushed across the room. “Two. My god, woman, you miracle worker. One would have been enough.”

  Violet laughed and cried as her brother sat on the other side of his wife and stared at his daughters. His hands were shaking as Kate handed him the first baby.

  “This is Agatha.” Victor nodded and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “She’s perfect. She’s wonderful. You’re wonderful.” Those tears on his face were just what Violet needed to see. That utter adoration and love in his gaze. The fierce lion coming out to greet his daughters. There was no spaniel when the mantle of fatherhood fell on Victor. He was all protection and care, and it was magical to see.

  “And this,” Kate told Violet, lifting her younger daughter and greeting the baby. “This is Violet Junior.”

  The END

  Hullo, my friends, I have so much gratitude for you reading my books. Almost as wonderful as giving me a chance are reviews, and indie folks, like myself, need them desperately! If you wouldn’t mind, I would be so grateful for a review.

  The sequel to this book, A Friendly Little Murder, is available for preorder now.

  August 1925

  After a slew of
cases for Jack, a new book and a series of business meetings for Vi, and an excess of Violet’s stepmother for them both, Vi and Jack determine to flee to a lodge in the woods. A little fresh air, a ramble or two, afternoon naps, lingering mornings over a cup of Turkish coffee and perhaps all will be aright again.

  Only one morning walk ends with a body and yet again, Violet, Jack and their friends find themselves involved in a mysterious death. The main suspects for the killer are none other than the victims long-time friends. Just why do you turn on a long-time friend? And if you've done it once, will you do it again?

  Order it here.

  If you enjoy mysteries with a historical twist, scroll to the end for a sample of my new mystery series, The Poison Ink Mysteries. The first book, Death by The Book, is available now.

  Inspired by classic fiction and Miss Buncle's Book. Death by the Book questions what happens when you throw a murder into idyllic small town England.

  July 1936

  When Georgette Dorothy Marsh’s dividends fall along with the banks, she decides to write a book. Her only hope is to bring her account out of overdraft and possibly buy some hens. The problem is that she has so little imagination she uses her neighbors for inspiration.

  She little expects anyone to realize what she’s done. So when Chronicles of Harper’s Bend becomes a bestseller, her neighbors are questing to find out just who this “Joe Johns” is and punish him.

  Things escalate beyond what anyone would imagine when one of her prominent characters turns up dead. It seems that the fictional end Georgette had written for the character spurred a real-life murder. Now to find the killer before it is discovered who the author is and she becomes the next victim.

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