The Chocolate Moose Motive: A Chocoholic Mystery

by JoAnna Carl

  “Not really. Of course, she’d used the one bait I couldn’t resist. I’d do anything to get rid of Ace’s threat to take Johnny away from me.”

  “I understand.”

  “I talked to my grandmother, and we agreed that I should go. Helen was in a position to know a lot about Ace, and I couldn’t miss a chance at learning something that would help me end this custody battle. So I gave Johnny his bath and read him a story. He went off to sleep long before I left the house.”

  “When did you leave?”

  “About nine fifteen.”

  “What time did you get to the beach?”

  “Maybe ten minutes to ten. Helen’s car was in the parking lot. I guess it’s still there.”

  “We towed it,” Hogan said. “Did you go straight down to the beach?”

  “I went straight to the stairs. Since Helen’s car was there, I thought she was, too.” Sissy took two deep breaths before she went on. “I stopped at the top of the stairs and called to her. Then I flashed my flashlight around. Helen was lying in the sand at the foot of the stairs.”

  “Did you go down to her?”

  “Oh, yes! I thought maybe I could help her. But I couldn’t find a pulse. And her hand was limp when I touched it. When I saw the angle of her head”—Sissy held a tissue to her mouth and blinked rapidly—“I was careful not to move her.”

  “Did you call the cops right away?”

  “I tried. But my cell phone didn’t have any service, so I thought of Lee and Joe.”

  “How did you know where they live?”

  “Somebody told me. Lee? Maybe Lee mentioned it. Or somebody told me they lived right across Lake Shore Drive from the Garretts. Dick Garrett brought a big fish out for my grandmother to mount.”

  “There are houses closer to the beach. Did you think of going to one of them?”

  “I was afraid to. I mean—well, I was scared.”

  “Why? Did you think Helen hadn’t had an accident?”

  “I didn’t know what had happened to her. I guess I was scared because—well, partly it was all this gossip, I guess. You know, people thinking I killed Buzz. And here I’d found a body. I didn’t want it all to get started again.”

  “I can understand that, Sissy. I can understand that fear making you run away, maybe denying you’d found Mrs. Ferguson’s body. But why would that make you afraid to go to the closest house?”

  Sissy’s head drooped. “You’ll think it was stupid.”

  “Try me.”

  “I know it was just my imagination running away with me.”

  “Try me.”

  Sissy sighed again and looked at Joe. He nodded encouragingly.

  She burst out suddenly. “I thought there was somebody on the beach!”

  Hogan blinked solemnly. “Well, it’s a public beach.”

  “I know! But this guy just stood there. I thought he was watching me.”

  “Did you speak? Call out?”

  “Yes. I yelled, ‘Help!’ But he didn’t come toward me. He sort of faded into the trees over on the left. I got scared! I dropped Helen’s hand, and I ran back up the stairs, and I jumped in the car and locked the doors.”

  Her face looked agonized. “And now I’m not even sure there was anybody there! But after that, I was afraid to go to a strange house. I came here because I didn’t think Joe and Lee were likely to kill me! I ran off and left poor Helen lying there because I was scared, and maybe I could have helped her!”

  I wanted to give Sissy a big Texas hug and tell her not to blame herself. That must have been a terrifying experience. Who could have been there, lurking in the dark? I wondered if Hogan and his crew had found any trace of the person. Or had it been Sissy’s imagination? At any rate, she didn’t need to feel guilty about running for help.

  Hogan nodded reassuringly. “At that point, Sissy, I’m sure there was nothing to be done for Helen, so you don’t need to beat yourself up over leaving her.”

  She reached for a tissue. “I know. I’m sure she was already dead. I just hate to admit I was such a coward.”

  “Running away from a man who hangs back in the shadows—after you’ve just found a body—doesn’t seem cowardly to me. It sounds smart.”

  “But I wasn’t sure there was anybody there.” She looked at Hogan. “Did you find any tracks?”

  “We’ll have to look again in the daylight. Now, Sissy, I’d like to keep your car until tomorrow. Joe? Can you and Lee take Sissy home?”

  We agreed, of course. We all piled into Joe’s truck, even though we had to sit three abreast. At least nobody had to crane his neck to talk.

  “I can’t believe Chief Jones doesn’t think I’m involved in Helen’s death in some way,” Sissy said.

  “Lawyers are taught to be cautious, and we try to get that across to our clients,” Joe said. “So I’m going to warn you to be careful when you talk to Hogan again.”

  “He doesn’t seem to think I had anything to do with it, Joe.”

  “He doesn’t have a cause of death yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the medical examiner hasn’t looked at Helen’s body. He should be able to tell if she was really killed by a fall down those stairs, or…” Joe paused. “Or if there was some other factor.”

  “What else could have happened?”

  “Just as an example, somebody could have killed her elsewhere, then brought her body there and tossed it down the stairs. Somebody could have pushed her down them, then broken her neck manually. Hogan doesn’t even know the time of death yet.”

  “Surely she hadn’t been dead very long when I got there. Her hand was warm when I touched it.”

  “They’ll have to check the body temperature, the stomach contents. A bunch of stuff. So, Sissy, speaking as your lawyer—sort of—be careful. None of these carefree remarks you tend to make.”

  “You mean, like pointing out what a pain in the neck Helen was, and that I thought she was the main source of gossip about me?”

  Joe shook a finger. “That never happened. Okay? If someone asks you specifically, don’t lie. But you don’t have to volunteer information.”

  “Okay.” Sissy’s voice sounded subdued. “But I sure wonder what Helen wanted to tell me about Ace.”

  I wondered about that, too. After all, Ace could be a prime suspect in her death. If he discovered that she had some sort of evidence against him, something that would stop him from getting custody of Johnny—even linking him to Buzz’s death—well, it would sure be logical for him to take steps to shut her up.

  It was hard to picture Ace killing his own son.

  But it was not impossible. I’d been around detectives enough to know that the people closest to the victim—spouse, parents, brother, sister, friends—are considered the obvious suspects. And certainly Ace and Buzz had apparently been at odds for years. They’d quarreled about Buzz’s career choices, about his marriage to Sissy, probably about other things. Maybe their disagreements had grown from name calling to violence.

  Sissy was silent until we neared the turn into Moose Lodge’s drive.

  Wildflower had obviously turned on all the lights, because the place was ablaze with electricity. I once again marveled at the view Warner Pier had of Wildflower and Sissy. They were believed to be poverty stricken, but Wildflower’s home was comfortable, if not luxurious, and all those lights had cost a mint to install.

  Wildflower had heard us coming, of course, and she was standing on the porch of the larger cabin. And there were two people with her, a man and a woman.

  “Oh, damn,” Sissy said. “Nosy and Rosy are there. They can scent trouble a mile away. And if there isn’t any around, they bring it with them.”

  Chapter 9

  The two people with Wildflower were both short and round, and both had white hair. The woman’s hair was short and wavy, and the man had a bald pate with a fluffy halo.

  After Sissy got out of the truck, Joe would have driven off immediately, but Wildflower
motioned to us, so we both got out. I recalled Wildflower’s remark about Joe—saying it had been a mistake for Sissy to consult him—so I didn’t know what to expect. She apparently had a very poor opinion of lawyers in general and might even object to Joe in particular.

  She hugged Sissy and answered her questions about Johnny. “He’s sleeping like an angel,” she said. “Tiptoe in and take a look.”

  She watched Sissy go into the house, then turned to us. “I’d like to introduce our closest neighbors, Roosevelt and Nona Reagan.”

  Hmmm. So “Rosy” was the man, and “Nosy” was the wife. We all shook hands and made polite noises. I pulled my jacket around me. July nights can be cool in west Michigan.

  Wildflower spoke again. “Thank you for helping Sissy tonight.”

  “We weren’t much help,” Joe said. “She may need a criminal lawyer. Our agency deals only with noncriminal matters. If money is a problem—”

  “Honestly!” The interjection came from Nona Reagan. “How anybody could suspect Sissy of being involved in another death! It’s just ridiculous! That girl is the sweetest thing who ever lived. And that little boy is the apple of her eye. All she cares about is taking proper care of him.”

  I had the impression that she was going to keep talking indefinitely, but when she paused to take a breath, Joe cut her off at the pass. “Right now, Helen Ferguson’s death looks to have been accidental,” he said. “I’m hoping Sissy won’t be involved any further.”

  Nona’s words stopped abruptly, and she stood there with her mouth open. She looked disappointed. Having prepared herself to protect Sissy, she evidently didn’t want to hear that Sissy might not need her protection.

  Wildflower followed up on Joe’s remark as smooth as silk. “I’m going to try to get Sissy right to bed,” she said. “Nona, Rosy, I do appreciate your coming over. And I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “We just wanted to warn you, Wildflower. You remember that we had this problem right before Buzz was killed.”

  “I understand.” Was there an ironic undertone to the words? I couldn’t tell. In fact, I was quite surprised by Wildflower’s behavior. Where was the blunt speech she’d used that morning?

  Rosy Reagan shook hands with Joe again. “I try to keep an eye on these girls,” he said. “It makes me nervous for the two of them to be living out here all alone.”

  “We’re not too helpless,” Wildflower said. This time there was a definite edge to her comment.

  “Oh, I know! I know! But it’s pretty remote out here.” Rosy leaned close to Joe and lowered his voice. “And she’s antigun, you know. Won’t even keep a pistol for protection.”

  “Rosy, go home!” Wildflower spoke firmly. “We’ve been over that a dozen times. Sissy and I will be cautious, but we don’t need a gun. And now I have to ask Joe and Lee just one question.”

  I thought Nosy and Rosy—I was thinking of them that way already—were going to insist on staying to hear what that question was. But they finally started down the porch steps. Each was carrying a large flashlight. They walked off toward the east, both still talking. Apparently they lived close enough to walk over.

  Wildflower led us into the house. “I hope Nosy and Rosy don’t ever try to sneak up on anyone. The continual rumble of conversation would tip their quarry off. But they’re right about one thing. When you live out like we do, you have to be alert to what’s going on with your neighbors, as well as with yourself.”

  “How did they hear about Helen Ferguson?”

  “They were already here when Sissy called. They insisted on staying to ‘help’ me.”

  “Oh, dear!” I said.

  “I didn’t discourage them. I was afraid I’d need to leave, to go to Sissy’s rescue. And in that case, they would have been willing to stay with Johnny. But they originally came over for quite a different reason.”

  She lowered her voice. “I don’t want Sissy to know about it just yet.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nosy and Rosy think they had a prowler.”

  “What happened?”

  “Oh, they went to Holland today, and when they came back, they found strange tracks out by their garage. I wouldn’t take it very seriously, ordinarily.”

  “Why not?” Joe asked.

  “Because our property and theirs run alongside the Fox Creek Nature Preserve, and people walk along there all the time. Sometimes they stray off the paths. But today…” She stopped.

  “Why is this time different?”

  “I was gone for a while this afternoon, too. When I came back, I thought some things had been moved around. I think somebody came into our house.”

  “Have you called the police?”

  “Certainly not! Nothing seems to be missing.”

  “Even so, Ms. Hill, breaking in—”

  “The door wasn’t locked.”

  “Coming into a house uninvited is still a crime. The police—”

  “Out here we’re served by that sheriff.”

  “I understand that you don’t like Burt Ramsey, but he could investigate. He could take fingerprints. He could talk to the neighbors.”

  Wildflower shook her head emphatically. “Nosy and Rosy are the only close neighbors we have.”

  “Did you tell them you thought you’d had a break-in?”

  “No. They’d make way too much of it. I don’t want to stir them up when nothing was taken.”

  “What makes you think anyone came in?”

  “Some things have been moved around. For example, I had sorted the mail according to my own method before I left. I stacked it on my desk, and now I think it’s in a different order.”

  “Sissy wouldn’t have moved it around?”

  “I don’t think so. I put her mail on her desk. She doesn’t usually look at mine.”

  “Hey, Grandma.” Sissy appeared at a door that apparently led into a hall.

  Wildflower put a finger on her lip to signal silence to Joe and me. She dropped it as she turned toward Sissy.

  “Yes?”

  “Did you take the MasterCard bill from my desk? It doesn’t seem to be there.”

  “No, I didn’t look at your desk.”

  “Well, it needs to go in the mail tomorrow. I mean, today.”

  Sissy went back through the door. I raised my eyebrows. Joe scowled.

  “I definitely think you should report this,” he said.

  “I guess you’re right. I’ll call tomorrow.”

  Joe kept scowling, and Wildflower spoke again. “The county has only one deputy at night. Unless we have someone breaking in right that moment, he’s not going to come out until tomorrow anyway.”

  “You’re probably right. Do you want me to go to the sheriff’s office with you?”

  “Don’t you have to go to work in Holland?”

  “I could arrange it.”

  “No. I’m not a wimp. I’ll call the sheriff myself.”

  “All right. But lock your doors and windows, okay?”

  Wildflower smiled and promised to secure the house.

  As we left, I felt a big bite from my curiosity bug. “If you and Sissy and Johnny all live in this house, what do you use the other house for?”

  “Now? For storage, mainly. Sissy and Buzz lived there until he was killed.”

  “Oh?” I said. “They lived over there, but Buzz was killed in this house?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Was it unusual for Buzz to come over here?”

  “Not really.” Wildflower smiled. “He and I usually ate lunch together. He’d come over to make our sandwiches. As I said, I don’t usually lock the house up—certainly I wouldn’t lock up if I was just working in the shop. Buzz had the run of the place. He’d come out to the shop and talk, bounce ideas off me.”

  She blinked rapidly. I realized that Sissy wasn’t the only person still grieving for Buzz. Hogan had thought Buzz sponged off Sissy and Wildflower, but Wildflower made the four of them sound as if they’d been a happy l
ittle family.

  I had to blink a few times, too.

  Joe asked Wildflower to show him the things she thought were disturbed by the prowler. She said she couldn’t find that anything was gone. Things had simply been moved around.

  “Mainly papers,” she said. “Joe, do you honestly think we’re going to get any interest in this from Burt Ramsey?”

  “Maybe not, but you need to get it on the record.”

  Wildflower didn’t look convinced.

  Sissy came out at that moment, holding the bill she’d been looking for. “It had fallen over the back of the desk,” she said. “I don’t know how that could happen.”

  We left Wildflower to tell Sissy they’d had a break-in and went home. As soon as we were off the Moose Lodge property, I asked Joe about the burglary.

  “Do you think someone broke in?”

  “Hard to tell. Since the main things touched seemed to be papers, it could be the breeze blew things around.”

  “It doesn’t exactly get breezy down among all those trees. Do you think Burt Ramsey will do anything about it?”

  “No.”

  On that discouraging note, we stopped talking. By the time we got home, all the lights and cars were gone from Beech Tree Beach. Helen Ferguson would be gone, too. In our one contact, she hadn’t impressed me with her charm and intelligence, but she didn’t deserve to fall or be pushed down a set of stairs. And Sissy didn’t deserve to be involved in another mysterious death. Or I didn’t think she did.

  By the time we left Moose Lodge, it had been well after midnight, so I had told Sissy she didn’t need to come in the next day, but she said she wanted to. We’d agreed that she and I would come in after lunch. Wildflower said she’d bring her, since Sissy’s car was being examined by the state police lab.

  Because of this, it was one o’clock when I came in the back door of TenHuis Chocolade and walked into the workroom. I immediately knew something was wrong.

  All the hairnet ladies were standing still, frozen in their places. Some had their hands clasped imploringly. Certainly no work was being done.

  And the reason was plain. Some man was yelling.

  “You’re a slick piece of work! But you’re not fooling anybody!”