Chocolate To Die For

by Morgana Best

  I smiled. “That would be lovely.”

  Tom left the room, and I threw myself down on the bed. I could scarcely believe my luck. I was in Tom’s house! I jumped off the bed and spun around, my arms out, doing little pirouettes up and down the room. I was beyond happy. I sobered up somewhat when I realised I was in his house because he wanted to protect me, but wasn’t that a good thing? It wasn’t as if he had friend-zoned me. I was sure of that now. After all, we had just had a romantic dinner.

  I took off my heels and stuck my toes into the luxurious floor rug. I opened my suitcase and wondered what I should wear for my nightcap with Tom. I could hardly wear my pyjamas and my bathrobe. I suppressed a giggle at the thought. I went through all my clothes in a hurry, trying to find something that looked nice. I finally settled on my black yoga pants and a pretty shirt. Who would have known I’d ever wear those yoga pants again?

  I looked in the bathroom mirror and contemplated taking off my make up. No, I would do that just before I went to bed.

  Suddenly, I thought of Carl. I silently berated myself for not calling him sooner. I ran back to the bed and fished my phone out of my purse. He answered at once. “Narel, is everything okay?”

  “Sorry it’s late,” I said in hushed tones. Did I need to speak quietly? I had no idea where Tom’s bedroom was. It could be next to mine, or it could be over in another wing of the house. My toes tingled at the thought. “Now don’t worry, Carl, but the police have been over tonight.”

  Carl sounded as if he had been asleep. “What? Do you mean after your dinner with Tom?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. “When Tom took me home, we saw someone in my house. We called the police, and they think whoever it was poisoned some of my food.”

  “You’re kidding!” Carl sounded wide-awake now. “Narel, don’t eat a thing!”

  I assured him that I wouldn’t. “The police have taken samples…”

  He interrupted me. “I’m coming to get you now.”

  “I’ve just arrived at Tom’s.”

  “Tom’s?” Carl repeated. “You’re staying at Tom’s?” There was some hesitation, and then he added, “That dinner must’ve gone rather well.”

  I hurried to correct him. “No, Carl, not like that,” I admonished him. “As a guest. Mongrel is here, too. I’m in the guest bedroom.”

  Carl chuckled. “Good for you, Narel. Oh, I don’t mean it like that. It’s terrible that someone tried to poison you. You have to be really careful. Do you think you should go to the shop tomorrow?”

  I was puzzled by Carl’s attitude. He wasn’t a jealous person, but in normal circumstances, he would insist I stay with him rather than anyone else. He just seemed a little too happy that I wasn’t staying with him. What was he hiding? If he was dating, surely he would tell me? He usually told me everything.

  “Narel?”

  I realised I hadn’t answered. “I’ll probably go to the shop tomorrow. The police are going to call me tonight once they test the chocolates.”

  Carl gasped. “Your chocolates were poisoned?”

  I nodded, and then realised Carl couldn’t see me. “The police think so. They took samples of the water in my coffee machine, and the chocolates that I noticed had been rearranged in my fridge.”

  “Narel, when the police catch the murderer, you’ll have to throw out every last bit of food in your house. Promise me.”

  “Of course I promise,” I said. “I have no desire to eat any of the food in my house. And don’t worry, Tom has plenty of security in his house.”

  Carl chuckled. “Never mind.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That means the murderer won’t be able to chase you into Tom’s arms tonight.”

  I shook my head. Sometimes I wondered about Carl. After I hung up, I thought I should just rest my eyes for a few moments.

  Chapter 12

  I awoke the following morning when the first touches of sunlight found their way into my room. I was still in my yoga pant and shirt, lying on top of the bed. At first I was disoriented, not knowing where I was. Then realisation dawned on me. I sat up and clutched my head. How terrible of me. Whatever would Tom think? I had fallen asleep and had missed that nightcap with him. I was absolutely mortified.

  I had a quick shower and cleansed my face, feeling somewhat revived by the hot water running on me. I didn’t want to wash my hair, so I stuck my neck forward, out of the shower’s reach. I figured that rainforest showers were invented by men who shampooed their hair daily. After I dressed, I headed for the kitchen. I hoped Tom was awake, as I would feel awkward sitting there staring at the walls.

  To my relief, Tom was not only awake, but he had fed Mongrel, who was presently attacking the last of his food with relish. What’s more, the coffee machine was switched on. I was impressed—it was a proper, plumbed-in barista’s machine. “Wow,” was the first word out of my mouth, followed by, “I’m so sorry we didn’t have that drink last night. I called Carl to tell him what happened and then thought I’d just lie down for a few seconds to rest my eyes. Next thing I knew, it was morning.”

  I could have imagined it, but I thought a flash of relief passed over Tom’s face. He looked so good in the morning, unshaven, his hair slightly messy. Still, it wouldn’t do to drool, so I schooled my face into a neutral expression.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “Very well,” I said. “I didn’t wake up once. How about you?”

  He shook his head. “Actually, I hardly slept well at all, worrying about you.”

  I thought that was sweet, but I didn’t know how to respond. I simply nodded. “I hope the police come up with answers soon,” he said. “Meanwhile, I think it would be safer if you stay here.” He said it as a question rather than a statement, so I nodded again.

  “That would be lovely, thanks, but I don’t want to be any trouble.”

  “No trouble at all.” Tom walked over to me and for a moment I thought he would lower his head to kiss me, but instead he put his hand on my shoulder. His touch a sent a thousand shock waves coursing through my body. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “And I have a suitable breakfast for you.” He went to the fridge and retrieved a box of chocolates. “I’ve been saving this for…” He hesitated, and his face flushed bright red. “A special occasion,” he added. He opened the box and placed it in front of me. “Carl is always saying you eat chocolates non-stop, but I didn’t know if you eat them for breakfast?”

  “I am trying to eat in a more healthy fashion,” I told him, “but I certainly wouldn’t say no to a chocolate.” I selected one and popped it into my mouth. Tom seemed to be the perfect man. Not only did we have undeniable chemistry, but he also gave me coffee and chocolate. Now if only I could stay alive long enough to enjoy him.

  “What did the police say?” he asked me.

  I was a little confused. Maybe it was the lack of coffee. “I told you everything last night,” I said with a frown.

  He shook his head. “I mean, what were the test results from the food they took from your house?”

  I slipped my hand over my mouth. I jumped off the chair and hurried back to my bedroom. My phone was lying on the floor where it must have fallen in the night. There were two missed calls and one voicemail message. I listened to the voicemail, which was Detective Palmer asking me to call him back.

  I hurried back to the kitchen. “I didn’t even hear the phone ring,” I told Tom. “I must have been out like a light. I haven’t slept so well in ages.”

  I called Detective Palmer back, expecting it to go to his voicemail, but he picked up after five rings. “Detective Palmer,” he barked.

  “Detective Palmer, this is Narel Myers. I’m so sorry I missed your calls last night. I fell asleep.”

  The detective cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I have some rather bad news for you, Ms Myers.” I held my breath, and he continued. “The chocolates and the water in your coffee machine both had significantly high l
evels of organophosphates. The perpetrator had definitely poisoned those items.”

  I had the phone on Loud, so Tom could hear. He was biting his bottom lip. “What happens now?” I asked Palmer.

  “Well, it goes without saying that I advise you not to return to your house until this matter is wrapped up,” he said. “If you do find it necessary to go back to your house, I’d advise you to take someone with you, and under no circumstances eat or drink anything.”

  “I definitely won’t,” I said. “Thanks for that.”

  “We’ll be in touch,” Detective Palmer said before he hung up.

  I looked at Tom. “He said if I go back to my house, I should take someone with me.”

  Tom nodded. “That makes sense,” he said.

  “Actually, I meant that the police might not suspect Carl anymore.”

  Tom looked up from his coffee. “How do you figure that?”

  “Palmer didn’t tell me not to take Carl to my house. He said I should take someone, but he didn’t say not to take Carl, and he didn’t say to be careful of people who are close to me, or anything like that.”

  Tom nodded slowly. “Good point. Hopefully they’re beginning to realise that Carl didn’t do it. Surely they realise he wouldn’t poison you.”

  “I sure hope so.” I popped a chocolate into my mouth.

  “Have you decided to go to your shop today?” Tom asked, stepping closer to me.

  “I will go,” I said.

  “You’re welcome to stay here,” Tom said. “It will be perfectly safe here, and you could either take the day off and lie around watching Netflix, or you could get to work on your online business. Oh, that reminds me, here’s my internet password.” He slid a card across the bench to me.

  “It’s awfully good if you to have me here,” I said.

  Tom winked at me. “You’ve already thanked me, Narel. You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you like.”

  I smiled shyly. I didn’t tell Tom I planned to get straight to work on the investigation. Maybe the police didn’t still suspect Carl, but I had no way of knowing that. Besides, someone had already tried to poison me, and as far as I knew, the police hadn’t made any headway into their investigation. No, I would have to do my own investigating. One thing was certain; the murderer clearly wouldn’t be able to get at me within Tom’s fortress of a home.

  When Tom went to have a shower, I sat next to Mongrel on the sofa and called Carl. “The police told me the water in my coffee machine and some of my chocolates had been poisoned with organophosphates,” I told him.

  He gasped loudly. “What are we going to do?”

  “Well, I think we should start our investigations today. I thought I’d start with Valerie Andrews. After all, her husband seems the most likely suspect. Do you want to come with me? It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes, so it won’t matter if I shut the shop for that time.”

  “I don’t think you should go there today,” Carl said. “I think it’s too dangerous. Can’t you stay at Tom’s today?”

  “I’ll go mad sitting around,” I told him. “Besides, I don’t want to shut the shop. I’m definitely going to open the shop today, so I thought I’d pop out quickly and see if I could get any information from Valerie Andrews. Can you come?” I asked for a second time.

  “No, I’m behind with a deadline,” Carl said. “You shouldn’t go alone. Surely it won’t matter if you shut the shop for a day or two?”

  “I’m not shutting the shop,” I said firmly. Besides, I was sure Carl was not telling the truth about being behind with a deadline. Carl was never behind with a deadline. He was far too well-organised for that. Clearly, he had a prior engagement, but what was it? Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to tell me.

  Carl sighed dramatically. I could tell he was warring with himself as to whether or not to argue with me, but he finally gave in. “How is Mongrel adapting to your new home?” he asked me.

  “It’s not my new home,” I said in a whisper. “And Mongrel is adjusting well, surprisingly well, in fact.”

  Carl made loud kissing sounds, so I scowled at my phone and then hung up. I could picture Carl rolling around, laughing. Well, if he wasn’t going to bother to clear his name, I would have to be the one to do so.

  Chapter 13

  Tom dropped me outside my shop and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead before driving away. I was on cloud nine. If only someone wasn’t trying to murder me, then I would be truly happy.

  Once again, I had more customers than usual. Word had somehow spread around town that someone had poisoned my chocolates. I would have thought that fact would drive customers away, but to the contrary, there was standing room only in my shop for the first hour after I opened. I did a roaring trade.

  By mid-morning, the flow of customers had eased considerably, and I finally had some cognitive space to collect my thoughts. Upon thinking it over, no one murder suspect was standing out more than the others. Besides, what possible reason would anyone have to murder me? If the person thought I could recognise them, surely they would think I had already told the police. Still, I supposed the detectives were right in saying that the perpetrator didn’t want me to give evidence against them at a trial.

  I took advantage of a break in customers to flip the sign to Closed, and then I hung the Back in Ten Minutes sign over it. I slipped out the door, locked it, and headed down the street in the direction of Cane Delights and Homewares. It wasn’t an imaginative name by any means, but I supposed no one was left in any doubt as to what the shop sold.

  Valerie Andrews looked up when I walked into her shop. She seemed surprised to see me. I was the only customer, so she should have looked pleased. Valerie was dressed in the manner of the stereotypical female farmer who had been to a private school: high waisted jeans, a blue and white striped collared shirt with the collar turned up, a single string of thick pearls, and streaked blonde hair cut in a bob. We hadn’t actually met—I knew her by sight only.

  “Are you after anything in particular, or are you just looking around?” she asked me, tapping her French manicured nails on the counter.

  “I’m just looking around,” I said, and then silently berated myself for not coming up with an excuse to speak to her upfront. Maybe I should buy something. Surely that would make her more kindly disposed towards me.

  I stifled a giggle when I saw a selection of white canvas handbags with long ropes comprising the shoulder straps, as well as a selection of fancy rope belts. I knew exactly what Mongrel would think of those. The room smelt pleasantly of scented candles, and indeed, she had several brands on display. I thought I should perhaps buy one for Tom as a gift for letting me stay with him.

  With that idea in mind, I looked around the shop for a more suitable gift. At least now I had a genuine reason to be here. Despite its name, the shop didn’t have much in the way of cane furniture, only chairs that were in a Hamptons style. Since the closest beach was hundreds of kilometres away, I thought that a little strange. The shop was also stocked sparsely. It wasn’t one of those shops where someone could have a good look around for any length of time. The cushions were pretty, all in bright colours, although there were hardly any. I was unimpressed. I couldn’t imagine she made any money. Perhaps she just used the shop as a way to escape from her husband.

  I selected a vanilla and butterscotch scented candle and took it over to the counter. It boasted a lead-free wick. I was a little put out when I looked closely at the label. There was a big sign on the candle display that said Fifty Percent Off in big letters, although on closer inspection, the words Up To were written above it in a tiny size. My so-called Up to Fifty Percent Off candle had, in fact, only a ten cent reduction in price, and to make matters worse, the price reduction had already been deducted from the price on display. Nevertheless, the candle smelt heavenly. “I’ll have this,” I said to her, “but I’m looking around for a gift as well.”

  “Is it for anyone in particular?” she asked me.

&nb
sp; I thought that was a strange thing to say. Aren’t all gifts for someone in particular? I nodded. “It’s for a friend.”

  “Male or female?” she asked. She didn’t exactly snap, but her tone was far from friendly. Maybe she was only nice to those who spent hundreds of dollars in her store.

  “Male,” I said.

  She looked displeased. “Men are always hard to buy gifts for, unlike women.” Her lips formed a thin line.

  “I need to buy a gift today because I need to give it to my friend tonight,” I said. “It’s a thank you gift. Can you recommend anything?” I had already formed a plan to mention her husband. When she didn’t immediately answer, I added, “What would you give your husband if you were to buy him a gift from your shop?”

  Valerie looked stricken. “My husband?” she asked.

  I was sure she was acting guilty, or maybe she was sad because her lover had been murdered. Perhaps she knew her husband had killed him. She continued to look at me without speaking. “Yes,” I said. “What would your husband like from your shop? I just need to come up with ideas. I’m not good at buying things for male friends.” After I said it, I was concerned that maybe she thought I was having an affair with her husband and thought I was taunting her.

  Surely not. I dismissed that idea as foolish. Valerie came around from behind her counter with obvious reluctance. “Have you looked at the clocks?” she said in a bored tone, indicating a display of rather plain clocks.

  “He doesn’t like clocks,” I said automatically. He wouldn’t like the ones in this shop, anyway, I added silently. They were rather dated and hideous, and seemed out of place in a shop such as this.

  She gestured around the room. “We have lamps.”

  This wasn’t going to be easy. “I need a man’s opinion,” I said. “Since there isn’t one here, what do women usually buy for men in your shop? What would you buy your husband?”

  She snorted rudely. “I wouldn’t buy my husband anything from my shop. He would only like a prize Hereford bull as a gift.”