Sally Berneathy - Death by Chocolate 03 - The Great Chocolate Scam

by Sally Berneathy

  “I was doing fine until Rick showed up in my shower.”

  “Get your purse and let’s go.”

  “Trent’s coming over. How long will this take?”

  “Not long if you’ll get a move on.”

  “Let me tell Henry we’re leaving and see if he wants to go out now or finish eating first.”

  “You act like that cat can understand you.”

  “That would be because he does.” Fred’s smart, but he still had a lot to learn about cats. “Are we taking my car or yours?”

  “Mine.”

  “Can I drive?”

  “Of course not.”

  Henry elected to go out before we left and finish dinner later. I grabbed my purse and we set off for Rick’s house.

  “Is he expecting us?” I asked as Fred drove slowly down the street.

  “I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

  “Are you sure he’s home?”

  “Yes.”

  *~*~*

  The shiny rental Cadillac and the pitiful battered Ford both sat in Rick’s driveway when we pulled up to his house. I assumed his new car was inside the garage. He’d managed to get the cars out of his house but not the relatives.

  Marissa answered the door. She studied us for a moment then decided to go with manners. “Come in,” she said with a tight smile, stepping back and holding the door open to allow us entrance. “We’re having a barbecue to celebrate the safe return of my son and Grace’s son. You’re welcome to join us.”

  “Thank you.” Fred stepped inside, and I followed.

  The place still looked like a disaster area. Whatever happened on this visit, I would always recall with delight seeing Rick in this setting.

  Marissa directed us through the kitchen and out to the back yard where Rick, Brad and Clint were presiding over a grill covered in hot dogs and hamburgers.

  Rick looked up as we came out the patio door. Charcoal streaked one cheek and his shirt, and he didn’t look happy. Rickie seemed permanently attached to his side.

  Brad and Clint didn’t look very happy either. Grace, sitting in one of the patio chairs with a glass of wine in one hand, looked positively ecstatic. “It’s your Aunt Lindsay,” she said. Rickie detached himself from Rick and ran over to me.

  I was pleased Bryan Kollar had failed in his plan to kill the kid, but that was as far as my good will went. I stood stiffly while he wrapped his thin arms around me. “Aunt Lindsay!”

  “He’s having such a good time getting to know his uncles and his grandmother and, of course, his daddy.” Grace sipped her wine and beamed.

  “I am not his grandmother,” Marissa said through gritted teeth, moving around to take a seat across the patio from Grace and retrieving her own glass of wine from a nearby table. “Clint and Brad are not his uncles, and Rick is not his father.”

  “Actually,” Fred said, opening his folder and taking out a set of stapled papers featuring graphs and text, “when it comes to Rickie Ganyon, Rick is his father, you are his grandmother, and Clint and Brad are his uncles.”

  For a moment nobody moved or spoke. The birds even stopped singing and the leaves stopped moving in the trees. Well, that’s how it seemed.

  “I told you!” Grace jumped to her feet and ran to throw her arms around Rick.

  He stood frozen in place, his hamburger flipper halfway under a patty. “But,” he protested softly, “that’s not possible.

  Fred walked over and handed him the papers. “Not all vasectomies are successful.”

  “Vasectomy?” Grace exclaimed.

  Marissa stepped up and snatched the papers from Fred. “Yes, he had a vasectomy. I saw to it.” She studied the papers then ripped them in two. Before she could tear them another time, Rick dropped his hamburger turner and grabbed them from her.

  “How competent was this doctor you used, Marissa?” I asked. I have to confess, I was enjoying the scene. “How many vasectomies had he done? What was his specialty? Did he normally take out tonsils?”

  “Well…” Marissa’s smile faltered, and her hands fell to her sides. “He didn’t exactly graduate from medical school, but he had the necessary training.”

  “Apparently not.” I looked around at Clint and Brad to see how they were taking the news. They had gone quite pale.

  “I couldn’t afford a real doctor after your father left me,” she said defensively.

  Ah, we were back to his leaving rather than dying.

  “Gary Anderson made me a deal,” she continued.

  “Mom,” Rick said softly, calling her mom instead of Marissa for the first time I’d heard, “how did you pay Gary Anderson for our vasectomies?”

  “In the only currency I had available,” she snapped. “I was just trying to do the right thing for my boys. I didn’t want you to end up with a bunch of kids to support.”

  “Like you did?”

  “I did what I had to do.” She glared at him defiantly.

  What a family.

  I made myself a mental note to call my mother and invite her and dad over for dinner then create a special chocolate treat just for them. There are dysfunctional families, and then there are DYSFUNCTIONAL families.

  “I hate to break up this family reunion,” Fred said, “but I need to see you in private, Rick. This will just take a few minutes.”

  Like a zombie, Rick moved across the patio and into the house. More entertainment. I followed.

  Fred sat down at the small kitchen table and flipped his folder open. I recognized my divorce papers.

  “Where did you get those?” I asked.

  “From Jason.”

  “My lawyer? Is Jason a member of…?” I looked at Rick who was still standing, apparently in shock from becoming a new father. “You know, the Donato people.”

  “Of course not. Please sit down, Rick. We need to go over some details before you sign these documents.”

  Rick blinked a couple of times then looked at the papers. He sank into a chair but shook his head. “No, I’m not signing. I’ve had a lot of time to think, and I realize how important you are to me, Lindsay. Look at my family. You see what I’ve had to overcome. Anything good I’ve done with my life has been because of you.”

  I sat down between the two men and rested my elbows on the table. “I can’t think of one single thing you’ve done good with your life.”

  “And I have no chance of doing anything if I don’t have you in my life. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Please don’t give up on us.”

  Fred cleared his throat. “In light of new data, Lindsay’s reconsidered her demands for the settlement.” I had? “If she has to go to court, she’s going to ask for exactly what she’s entitled to, fifty percent of everything.”

  Rick laughed and leaned back in his chair. “Considering how much money I invested in those properties for that shopping center that’s not going to happen now because nobody’s going to want to buy clothes or ice cream on top of a crime scene, she’ll be lucky to get what she’s already asking for.”

  Fred quietly slid a couple of sheets of paper from the back of the file. “With the addition of these three bank accounts I found plus the one in the Cayman Islands, the condo on Padre Island and the two season tickets to the Chiefs games, I think Lindsay stands to come out quite well on a fifty/fifty settlement.”

  Rick shot forward to the edge of the chair, the blood visibly draining from his face. “How did you…?”

  I folded my arms and glared at Rick. Suddenly I’d like to take him to court and get half of everything, not because I wanted it but just because I didn’t want him to have it. “We know everything,” I said. “If you want to keep the shirt on your back…which is pretty dirty, by the way, but I guess that happens when you have a son…you need to sign these papers right now.”

  Fred whipped out a pen.

  Perspiration beaded on Rick’s upper lip. He drew a hand over it and shook his head. “Those have to be signed in front of a notary and witnesses.�
�

  Fred set a stamp on the table beside the pen. “I’m a notary, and we have a yard full of witnesses. I’m sure they’ll all be happy to get Lindsay out of your life just in case you die again and they can get their hands on your estate without having to share with her.”

  Fred was right. Rick did make me a happy woman. I walked out that door clutching that folder with the signed papers, smiling a bigger smile than I could remember.

  However, after I called Trent and told him the news, I expected him to put an even bigger smile on my face before the night was over.

  THE END

  Read on for some of Lindsay’s favorite recipes and the first chapter of the fourth book in the Death by Chocolate series, Chocolate Mousse Attack.

  *~*~*

  Cookie Dough Cheesecake Bars

  Cookie Dough:

  3 Tbsp. butter, softened

  1/2 c. brown sugar

  1/2 egg (approximately 2 Tbsp.)

  1/8 tsp. baking soda

  Dash of salt

  3/4 c. flour

  1 tsp. vanilla

  1/2 c. (rounded or heaped) miniature chocolate chips

  Cream together butter and sugar. Stir in egg. Mix flour, salt and baking soda and add to mixture. Add vanilla. Stir in chocolate chips.

  Put mixture into refrigerator while mixing cheesecake.

  Cheesecake:

  4 (8-oz) packages cream cheese, softened

  1-1/2 c. sugar

  1/4 c. flour

  Dash of salt

  4-1/2 large eggs

  2 c. sour cream

  1/4 c. cream

  2 teaspoon vanilla

  Line the bottom of 2 loaf pans one standard spring-form pan with parchment paper.

  Beat cream cheese until smooth. Add sugar and continue beating until well mixed. Add flour and salt and mix well. Add eggs, one at a time, beating continuously. Add sour cream and mix well. Add cream and vanilla and beat until smooth.

  Pour approximately half inch of batter into each pan. Dot with pieces of cookie dough. Add another half inch to cover, then dot with pieces of cookie dough again. Add remaining batter to each pan.

  Bake 350 degrees for 60 minutes. Turn off oven and open door slightly, leaving cheesecake in the oven for another hour.

  Remove and cool half an hour, then remove from pans. Store covered in refrigerator for at least 8 hours to allow cheesecake to ripen.

  Slice and serve. Drizzle with Chocolate Ganache or serve plain.

  Chocolate Ganache:

  9 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped

  1 c. cream

  Heat cream in sauce pan until it steams but doesn’t boil. Add chocolate and stir until it dissolves. Remove from heat and cool.

  *~*~*

  No-Crust Chocolate Meringue Pie

  (naturally gluten-free)

  Meringue Shells:

  4 egg whites, room temperature

  1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

  2 teaspoon vanilla

  1 c. sugar

  Preheat oven to 275 degrees. Line 2 baking sheets with ungreased parchment paper.

  Beat egg whites on low speed until foamy. Add cream of tartar and vanilla. Continue beating until whites begin to hold their shape. Increase speed to medium high and gradually add sugar. Beat until whites form stiff peaks.

  Plop onto parchment paper in dollops of about 1/3 cup, roughly the size of a tennis ball cut in half, at least an inch apart. Spread with back of spoon to make a shell, indenting in the middle and building up the sides.

  Bake for 1 hour. Turn off oven, leaving shells in the oven with the door closed for an additional 1-1/2 hours. Remove baking sheets to wire racks. Let meringues stand 15 minutes then carefully loosen with a spatula and transfer to wire racks. Let cool completely.

  Fill with chocolate meringue filling, Nutella or chocolate mousse. You can even fill with non-chocolate things…but why would you want to?

  Chocolate Filling:

  (with thanks to Ruth Waller Jones, my cousin)

  1-1/2 c. sugar

  1/3 c. cornstarch

  2 Tbsp. butter

  2 squares (2 oz.) unsweetened chocolate, melted

  1/4 tsp. salt

  3 c. milk (whole or half and half)

  4 egg yolks

  2 tsp. vanilla

  In saucepan blend sugar, cornstarch and salt. Stir milk into beaten egg yolks. Stir milk/egg mixture into dry ingredients. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly. When mixture begins to steam, add chocolate and butter. Cook until mixture thickens. Add vanilla. Cool, stirring intermittently to keep it smooth.

  *~*~*

  Chocolate Gravy

  2 c. sugar

  3 or 4 Tbsp. cocoa powder

  3 Tbsp. flour

  3/4 milk

  1 Tbsp. butter

  1 tsp. vanilla

  Mix sugar, cocoa and flour in saucepan until there are no chocolate lumps. Stir in milk. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until mixture thickens to the consistency of gravy. Add butter and vanilla. Serve over hot, buttered biscuits.

  I will not include a recipe here for biscuits. That’s Paula’s forte, not mine. When left to my own devices, I use Pillsbury Grand frozen biscuits. I’m especially partial to the buttermilk and the southern style. Don’t tell Paula.

  *~*~*

  Chocolate Chip Pancakes

  2 eggs

  1-1/4 c. milk

  3 Tbsp. butter, melted

  1-1/2 c. flour

  1/2 tsp. salt

  2 tsp. baking powder

  3 Tbsp. sugar

  1 c. mini chocolate chips

  Mix flour, salt and baking powder and set aside. Beat eggs and milk until well-mixed and foamy. Stir in melted butter. Add dry ingredients and mix until just blended. It will be lumpy. Do not over-mix. Fold in chocolate chips. Drop onto heated griddle. Cook until bubbles start to form. Flip and cook another minute, until lightly brown.

  Serve with butter and chocolate syrup or maple syrup.

  *~*~*

  Chocolate Lemon Pie

  Prepare pie crust. Prick all over with fork to prevent air pockets from forming. If you’re really OCD, place another pie pan on top of crust. Bake at 400 degrees until edges brown, approximate 10-12 minutes. Allow to cool while preparing filling.

  Filling:

  1-1/3 c. sugar

  Dash of salt

  1/3 c. cornstarch

  1-3/4 c. water

  5 egg yolks

  1/2 c. lemon juice

  2 Tbsp. melted butter

  1 Tbsp. lemon zest

  2 tsp. vanilla

  Mix together lemon juice and egg yolks. Set aside.

  Combine sugar, salt and cornstarch in saucepan, stirring until well mixed. Add water and cook over medium heat, stirring frequently. When mixture becomes clear and thick, slowly add egg yolk and lemon juice mixture, pouring a small stream and stirring constantly. Cook until mixture boils and becomes thick. Remove from heat. Stir in lemon zest, butter and vanilla. Cool slightly and pour into crust. Cool completely.

  Chocolate Topping:

  9 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped

  1 c. heavy cream

  1/4 c. corn syrup

  Place chocolate in glass or metal bowl. Heat corn syrup and cream to point of steam but not boiling. Pour hot mixture over chocolate. Let stand without stirring until chocolate begins to melt. Stir until mixture is smooth. Cool, stirring occasionally, until mixture is thick.

  Pour chocolate mixture over cooled pie and spread to completely cover the top of the pie. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

  *~*~*

  No Worries Pie Crust

  (This pie crust does not contain chocolate. It is merely the device that allows one to lift chocolate pie from the pan. Therefore, I see no point in wasting time on all that cutting the grease in until it’s the size of mutated peas. This crust is quick and easy and always flaky…and allows you to spend more time with your chocolate.)

  1-1/3 c. flour

 
1/2 tsp. salt

  1/3 c. oil

  3 Tbsp. cold milk

  Mix flour and salt. Add oil and milk. Mix.

  Put between two sheets of wax paper. Roll out to something vaguely resembling a circle.

  Remove top layer of paper, then lay it gently back onto crust. Flip crust over and remove new top layer (old bottom layer) and discard. Lay pie tin upside down on crust. Flip crust and pan right side up. Remove and discard remaining layer of wax paper.

  Flute edges of pie crust by pinching between thumb and forefinger of one hand while pressing finger of other hand between said thumb and forefinger. (Use first knuckles if you have long fingernails.) Some people think this fluting makes it pretty. The truth is, it assures that none of the filling will spill out in case of overfill.

  *~*~*

  Chocolate Mousse Attack

  Chapter One

  Kansas City in August. People vacation in hell because it’s cooler there.

  The air conditioning in my kitchen at Death by Chocolate shot craps just before noon on a 102/90 day…a hundred and two degrees, ninety percent humidity. My shop is actually in Pleasant Grove, a suburb of Kansas City, but it’s all the same in terms of weather. By the time I got home that afternoon my tee-shirt, shorts and face were streaked with sweat and chocolate and my ponytail was a mass of red frizz.

  The thought of meeting somebody new ranked way down on my wish list, somewhere between sitting in a sauna for an hour while wearing a fur coat and going on a date with my ex-husband.

  When I saw Fred, my next-door neighbor, standing on the porch of the formerly vacant house across the street, talking to a woman, I hesitated, torn between curiosity and a desire to rush into my house, strip off my clothes and stand in a cold shower until the cold water ran out.