Johan agreed.
Later, after the Hochbergs were asleep, Nikki went into the kitchen and made a fresh pot of coffee. While the coffee was brewing she pulled some ingredients out of the cabinets and listened to a heavy rain falling outside. She had a long night of thinking ahead of her, and she thought best when she made chocolate and drank coffee. "Well," she said taking down a bag of chocolate chips, "my next step is to find the killer. But who? Wendy Phillips' husband? One of the people Hanz wrote about? Wendy Phillips herself? Someone killed Hanz Hochberg, and I have to find out who."
Pausing with the bag of chocolate chips in her hands, Nikki thought about Hanz Hochberg. She thought about the brief seconds her eyes had held the man in her sight. The mere sight of him would have never revealed the dark shadows lurking beneath his skin. "And it all ended for him in a small town in Vermont," Nikki said shaking her head. "But the question now is...who ended it?"
Chapter Ten
Nikki wasn't surprised to find the guest room empty and the Hochbergs gone when she woke up. She half laughed to herself. "They'll be in touch," she said taking a sip of coffee. "In the meantime, I better get dressed. I have to meet Hawk at nine, but I need a shower first."
After taking a hot shower, Nikki threw on a dress, tossed her hair into a pony-tail and hurried out the front door, grabbing her purse the way an outfielder would snag a foul ball. Small-town living was supposed to be peaceful, but Nikki felt like she was back in Atlanta as she jogged to her SUV, parked in the driveway next to the cabin. Jogging across wet grass, taking in deep breaths of damp, clean air, she thought back to all the jogging she did in her hometown, how peaceful those mornings had been. A strong feeling of homesickness struck her heart. "Not now," she said unlocking the SUV and jumping into the driver's seat.
Backing down the driveway, Nikki put her mind to work. "What do we have so far?" Nikki asked herself, driving down the quiet back-country road leading into town. "We have Hanz Hochberg, alias Steven Denforth. The man is from Germany, tied to the German Mafia, comes to America, ends up in Maple Hills because he needed a place to hide and somehow knew Wendy Phillips. Hanz' parents are able to track him down. They strong-arm Phillips to set up a meeting with their son. On the same day the meeting was to take place, Hanz is killed. By whom? There's a long list of suspects..."
Entering Maple Hills, Nikki drove through sleepy neighborhoods lined with quaint, gingerbread-like homes on one street and fancy two-story homes with neatly trimmed lawns on another street. Maple Hills did not have any poor neighborhoods or trailer parks. Most tourist towns didn't. The streets Nikki eased through were quiet, clean, cozy--no rundown houses, no cars blaring loud music, no litter lining the sidewalks, no graffiti. But hidden in this town, behind all of the pretty homes, lie the same crimes, just presented in a different package, she reflected.
Leaving the residential area, Nikki drove by sleeping little shops that would soon be filled with rich tourists. There was a candle shop, an antique store, a collectible bookstore, and a shop selling honey, jams, and bread. The stores nestled in buildings that looked as though they had arrived straight from Switzerland. Swinging the SUV into a parking spot right in front of her shop, Nikki eased her eyes to the left and right. It was 8:45am. No sign of Hawk anywhere. "He'll be here," she said opening the driver's side door.
Walking to the front door of her store, Nikki began to unlock it but found it open. "Hello, Lidia?" she called out, opening the door.
"Behind the counter," Lidia yelled back.
"You're early," Nikki said, closing the door and by cautious nature, locking it. Sure, in a small town like Maple Hills, there was no need to lock doors. But habit was habit.
"Doing inventory," Lidia told Nikki, watching her approach the counter, walking past wooden shelves holding a wide variety of chocolate candy bars ordered from different parts of the world: Holland, Germany, France, Russia, Israel, Switzerland. "I have to make sure the shelf life on our chocolates is okay."
"I see," Nikki said, impressed. Walking behind the front counter she quickly placed her purse in the back office and returned to Lidia, complimenting her clothes.
"I like your outfit."
"Honey, I'm wearing a green t-shirt and a granny skirt," Lidia laughed. "If you admire this, then you need real help."
Nikki laughed. "I guess. Listen, Lidia, Hawk Daily is supposed to be coming for coffee around nine."
Lidia stopped taking inventory. "Hawk Daily?" she asked in an uh-oh voice.
"What's the matter?"
Lidia scratched the back if her head with the pen she was holding. "Nikki, dear, people around town are believing you're--"
"After a story. Yeah, I was told," Nikki told Lidia rolling her eyes. "Lidia, there is much more going on here than people know. I thought about this last night while I was making chocolate, and I decided to take you into my confidence. You're an honest woman and about my only friend in town. I did have dinner with Jane, the lady who works at the hospital, and her husband last night. But that friendship will take time."
"I know the woman. She's very nice," Lidia told Nikki. "Her son has autism and lives in a facility in Boston."
"She told me," Nikki nodded her head. "I can't imagine how tough that must be for her and her husband."
"It must be tough. Now, getting back to Hawk Daily," Lidia said putting the pad of paper down on the counter, "listen, you don't need to be seen with him. Why, people will think you really are after a story! Don't get me wrong, Hawk Daily is a nice man...a little handsome, but everyone knows Stacy Norton is after him. If a new woman, namely you, is seen on Hawk's arm, a woman everyone believes is after a story, it'll make Stacy Norton into your enemy and confirm what everyone in town is whispering about."
"Who is Stacy Norton?" Nikki asked, fighting back a smile. Small-town drama. Go figure.
"Stacy Norton is the richest woman in our fine little town," Lidia pointed out, "a black widow. She is forty-four years old, and she's already been through five husbands, taking all of them for every cent they owned."
"Lidia, I have other matters to worry about. Now listen to me, I need your help and--"
"Oh no, yesterday we agreed that my assistance remains within the walls of this store," Lidia quickly objected. Grabbing the pad of paper she quickly went back to work. "Now, where was I? Oh yes..."
Before Nikki could talk to Lidia, Hawk knocked on the front door of the store. "He's here. Will you let him in? I'll go make the coffee."
Lidia cast Nikki a strong, disapproving eye. "I warned you."
"And I'm thankful," Nikki said, motioning toward the front door with her hands. "Now please, unlock the front door."
Chapter Eleven
"Yeah, yeah," Lidia said, shaking her head. She walked off, mumbling to herself.
"Hey, hey," Hawk said walking up to the front counter after Lidia let him in, "right on time. So where's that coffee?"
"Making it now," Nikki said, walking out from behind the counter.
"My, you look pretty...friendly," Hawk told Nikki, throwing his hands up into the air.
"Thank you," Nikki offered a polite smile. "Uh, can we take a walk while we're waiting for the coffee?"
"Sure," Hawk said bowing his arm toward the front door, "after you."
Nikki told Lidia she would be back in about half an hour and walked Hawk outside onto the front sidewalk. "Anything on Denforth yet?" she asked, deliberately baiting Hawk.
"Nah," Hawk said, throwing his hands down into the pockets of his jeans, "we're off the case. Feds took it over."
The blue and red football jersey Hawk was wearing made him look like a jock instead of a detective. "Forgive me for saying this, but you're not the normal detective type. What I mean is, the NYPD type."
"I wasn't," Hawk laughed. "You see, Pop and Mom divorced when I was a kid. Mom was in the Navy. I tagged around with her all over the place. Before Mom passed away from breast cancer she made me promise that I would get closer to Pop. So, here I am, fulfilling t
hat promise."
"Your mother lived in New York, then, right?"
"Smart lady, give her a cracker," Hawk nodded his head, walking with Nikki past the sleepy stores. "Mom liked the city. I hated it. But when I met my ex-wife, the odds were really against me. No man can stand up against two stubborn women."
Nikki smiled. "I guess not."
"Mom was a good woman. She had a good sense of humor."
"I'm sorry you lost her," Nikki told Hawk.
"So am I," Hawk said, kicking at a cigarette butt some tourist had tossed down onto the sidewalk.
"Listen," Nikki said grabbing Hawk's arm, "I...can I confide in you? I mean, can we create a friendship of confidence and trust?"
"I'm not a psychiatrist, but I can give it my best shot," Hawk said turning his head to the side and studying Nikki's face. "What you mean is you want to tell me something that you don't want me throwing at Pop."
"At anyone," Nikki told Hawk. "Please, Hawk."
Hawk took a deep breath, removed his hands from the pocket of his jeans, scratched the back of his head, smiled, and said sure. "You can trust me if you want."
"I believe I can," Nikki replied staring into Hawk's eyes. The man had an honest way to him that appealed to her. "Hawk, Steven Denforth is not who you think he is. Keep walking with me and I'll explain."
Hawk listened to Nikki explain about Hanz Hochberg, about his parents, about the paper, the fire, Wendy Phillips, ending with finding Adal and Johan missing from her guestroom. "Who's the real detective?" Hawk said, absorbing every word Nikki revealed to him.
"They believe the killer is in town. I believe that, too," Nikki said stopping in front of a small bakery. Local store owners were beginning to arrive. All businesses on the main strip opened at 10:00am. Thinking about what Lidia told her, Nikki edged Hawk back to her store before too many people saw them together. "If you can check out all the people Hanz wrote about, see if those people are in town, where they were at the time of the hit and run, and if any of them have left town, that would be great."
"And you?" Hawk asked walking back into Nikki's store.
"I'm going to pay Wendy Phillips a visit. The paper is up and running. I'm sure she works there," Nikki explained.
"Yes, Wendy Phillips is currently employed at the paper," Hawk confirmed walking up to the front counter. Spotting Lidia, he smiled. "Mrs. Green, good morning."
Lidia frowned. "Kinda early to be chasing the new woman in town, isn't it?"
"We're merely friends," Hawk said throwing his hands into the air again.
"Lidia, pour Detective Daily a cup of coffee, okay?" Nikki pleaded.
"Black, no cream or sugar," Hawk told Lidia and tossed her a wink.
"What about you, dear?" Lidia asked Nikki, making a snarly face at Hawk.
"A little cream and sugar will be fine," Nikki told Lidia desperately trying to prevent an overprotective mother figure from embarrassing her. After Lidia walked away to the back office, Nikki let out her breath. Letting her eyes wander around the store, she studied the chocolates. "Sometimes I wonder how I went from being a journalist in Atlanta to baking chocolate in a small town in Vermont."
Hawk pointed up at the ceiling. "God has a way of things," he smiled. "So now, tell me, why should I let you go speak to Wendy Phillips alone?"
"Hanz Hochberg remained in town after he burned down the building his paper was located in. Why? I keep thinking about what Johan Hochberg said last night. Maybe Wendy Phillips was blackmailing him to stay in town? Maybe she was trying to force Hanz to take her with him? There are many possibilities. I have to find out."
"Do you think she killed Hanz Hochberg?" Hawk openly asked.
"No," Nikki confessed. "Listen, Hawk, let me try to get some answers from her, okay. You investigate the people Hanz wrote about."
"You make a good boss," Hawk told Nikki, caving in to her request. "Okay, sister, this is how we're gonna work this deal. You handle Phillips, and I'll handle the people this Hanz joker blackmailed. But you listen and listen carefully, Phillips is as far as you go, are we clear? Someone killed Hanz Hochberg, which means they can and will kill again if pushed into a corner."
"I know," Nikki answered nervously. "That fact is cemented deep into my soul."
Lidia appeared from the back office holding two brown mugs. "Here," she said handing Hawk his coffee.
"Thanks."
'Thank you, Lidia," Nikki said, taking her coffee.
"Don't thank me yet. I heard what you two were talking about. I guess I better go with you to see Wendy Phillips. I don't want you alone," Lidia told Nikki and then let her shoulders slump. "All I wanted was a quiet, part-time job."
"Thanks," Nikki told Lidia. Reaching out, she hugged the woman. "We'll go see Wendy Phillips after we close today. It'll be wise for me to spend the day in my store, just in case someone is watching."
"I agree," Hawk told Nikki sipping his coffee. "Well, I got a lot of footwork today, so I better beat it. I'll call you later. Maybe we can get a bite to eat...as friends."
Nikki smiled. "My house, nine sharp. We'll have a late dinner...as friends," she told Hawk. "But first, do me this favor." Nikki walked to Hawk and whispered in his ear.
"Will do," Hawk promised. Finishing his coffee, he handed the mug back to Lidia. "Not bad. See you for dinner," he told Nikki and then tipped Lidia a wink.
"Not bad," Lidia fussed, watching Hawk walk out of the store, clearly making her voice reach the man's ears. But as soon as he was out of sight she smiled. "He's a little charming...not much, but some."
"We're just friends," Nikki promised. "You know my divorce was messy. I'm not ready to open my heart again, not right now. And with that said, let's get to work and hope today will be a good one."
"Well, it'll just be me and you. While you were out walking with Mr. Not Bad, our young friend called in," Lidia explained. "Her aunt is sick again. Tori has to stay home and tend to her. If you ask me, that woman is about as sick as a tiger sneezing at an innocent mouse."
Nikki patted Lidia's shoulder. "We have to work on Tori. Oh, if I could adopt her and make her my own! I'll give her a call later."
Following Nikki behind the front counter, Lidia went back to her inventory. Even though her face didn't show it, she was very scared. Everything inside her yelled that the person who ran down Steven Denforth--or Hanz Hochberg, or whatever the man's name was--was a local.
After opening the store, Nikki and Lidia waited for a few minutes, and then, right on time, tourists began to trickle in, slowly at first and then in a steady stream. But even dealing with a store full of tourists couldn't take Nikki's mind off the killing. As far as she knew, any person who entered her store could be the killer.
Chapter Twelve
"Whew," Nikki said, wiping sweat from her face as she locked the front door, "what a day."
"Tell me about it," Lidia said, plopping down in a wooden chair behind the front counter. "Are you sure we have to go see Wendy Phillips? I'm bushed. Herbert will be wanting his dinner, too."
"Yes, I'm sure," Nikki told Lidia walking back to the counter. "I'll count the drawer down and close out the credit card machine. After I get the deposit ready, we'll run over to the bank and then hit the paper. It's only four. The paper is open until six."
"Okay," Lidia caved in. Rubbing her ankles, she watched Nikki walk around the counter and take the cash drawer from the antique cash register. "I'll sweep up some."
"You rest," Nikki ordered Lidia. "I'll hurry."
After counting the cash drawer down and closing out the credit card machine, Nikki quickly prepared the daily deposit and hurried out of the store with Lidia. "We'll take my SUV," she told Lidia.
"Uh-oh," Lidia said motioning to a woman walking down the sidewalk, "here comes Stacy Norton."
Nikki looked up the sidewalk. A beautiful blond woman wearing a loose, flowy white dress was approaching her. The woman screamed of money and many, many plastic surgeries. "Nikki Bates?"
"Yes," Nik
ki said unlocking the driver's side door to the SUV.
"My name is Stacy Norton. It has been brought to my attention that you have been seen with Hawk Daily."
Lidia stepped back. Nikki was on her own. Curious to see how her boss was going to handle Stacy Norton, she braced for a cat fight. "I have," Nikki told Stacy. Turning to face the woman she stepped forward. "Hawk and I are engaged to be married, but that's our little secret. We're running away tonight to tie the knot. I wanted a church wedding, but you know Hawk, always in a rush to do things."
"Well!" Stacy huffed, feeling her cheeks flame red.
"I know," Nikki said, really pouring it on, "Hawk didn't give me much notice, either. All he said is we had to hurry and get married because there's a black widow in town after him and...oh, oh dear--you and Hawk--was he meaning you? I'm so sorry. Me and my big mouth."
"You vicious little snake," Stacy snarled at Nikki. Spinning around, she stormed off.
Slapping her leg, Lidia burst out laughing. "That was wonderful, honey. My, you really shut her up!"
"Hop in," Nikki grinned, watching Stacy storm away. Certain she would see Stacy Norton again, she climbed into the driver's seat and drove away toward the bank, weaving through thick lines of traffic created by tired tourists leaving town to find somewhere to eat dinner.
After dropping the deposit off at the bank, Nikki drove to the local newspapers. Pulling up in front of a newly built red brick building, she parked next to a red BMW. "You don't have to come in."
"I'm not," Lidia told Nikki folding her arms together. "I'm going to sit right here. If you're not out in thirty minutes, then I'm coming in."
"You're the best," Nikki told Lidia. Staring at the brick building she braced herself. "Wendy Phillips may become hostile. What can you tell me about her?"
"I don't know much," Lidia confessed. "She's married to Brent Phillips...I don't know anything about him. She has no children. She's about thirty-five, I guess. Went to college in Boston...not sure why she came back here to Maple Hills? Maybe her husband? From the few times I met her, she seemed nice. Herbert likes to sell his junk, so I've been in the paper a few times to have his junk put in the 'For Sale' section. The old building was a lot nicer; it had more character and--"
Raspberry Truffle Murder (A Maple Hills Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 5