Deadly Chocolate Addiction (Death by Chocolate Book 6)

by Sally Berneathy

  “He’s the quintessential salesman.”

  “Rick made the deal to deliver the package in the morning. They weren’t happy about it, but they agreed. Ryan went over the details of the sting with Rick and Clayton, the wires they’ll wear, what they need to say and not say, how to get the information without giving anything away. They were getting ready to leave when I showed up.”

  “So the man in black wasn’t looking for the key? He was looking for drugs?”

  “The key?”

  “The key I gave you that Ransom left. The key Kathleen’s intruder was looking for.”

  He shook his head. “We think the dead man was supposed to be the lookout while the guy in the mask came inside to find the package or to persuade you to hand it over. Since he was disguised, we assume he expected to be seen which meant a confrontation with you.”

  The intrusion wasn’t about the key? Had Kathleen had been lying about what her intruder said? Could the man have been her accomplice, playing out a role in a scenario designed to get her back into Trent’s apartment?

  Too many questions. Nothing made sense.

  “Lindsay? Are you okay?”

  “Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry. I was just thinking. So if the two guys came here together, why did the man in black kill his buddy?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “Why did they come here instead of the shop where Rick told them the drugs were?”

  Trent lifted a hand to his forehead and rubbed it. “We don’t know. We checked your restaurant to see if they’d gone there first, but everything looks okay. No sign of a break-in.”

  “You’re sure Rick told them the drugs were in the restaurant, not at my house? He’s sneaky.”

  “Ryan was there the whole time.”

  “What happens with the sting? Is it off? Is Rick going to prison?”

  “I’m sorry, no. They’ve got to go through with the sting, pretend they don’t know anything about what happened here. We don’t have any proof this was related to the drugs.”

  I spread my hands in frustration. “So you think a drug dealer and a murderer came to my house tonight by chance?”

  “We don’t know anything for sure yet.”

  “Maybe it was about the key instead of the drugs. Maybe the man in black was here to find it, and the dead guy was his buddy who just happened to be a drug dealer.” That didn’t sound right, even to someone with a big sleep deficit. “Okay, maybe he wasn’t his friend since he killed him. Unless there’s a third man involved.” I sighed. “I’m going to shut up. This is getting sillier and sillier the longer I talk.”

  “Why would someone think you have the key?”

  “Because your idiot ex-wife told the man…assuming there really was a man…that she’d given the key to me.”

  “Why would she say that?”

  “Didn’t she tell you she thought the intruder was a friend of mine, trying to get the key to your apartment?”

  “Yes.”

  “So she told him I had it. To get rid of him, I guess. Who knows what that woman’s going to do or why she does it?” As the words came out of my mouth, I thought maybe I shouldn’t have been so harsh. This was a woman Trent had loved enough to marry. But I’d married Rick, and I didn’t care what bad things Trent or anyone else said about him. They couldn’t compare with the bad things I said. Nevertheless, I hurried on to change the subject. “Have you figured out what the key goes to yet?”

  “No, and we don’t know for sure that it had anything to do with Jeff’s murder.”

  “He saw his murderer on the sidewalk outside my restaurant. He came back and left the key so that man couldn’t find it and I could give it to you. It has to be a clue.”

  “That’s one possibility.”

  “What other possibilities do you have?”

  He gave me a quick kiss in lieu of answering. “Go get ready for work. You’ve got a big day ahead making sure everybody gets their chocolate fix, and I’m going to go home to get a couple of hours of sleep. Gary and I are meeting Jeff’s parents this morning to plan the memorial service.”

  “Just you and Gary? I thought Kathleen was supposed to be included in the planning.”

  “Kathy and her in-laws aren’t close.”

  “Does that mean they threatened to shoot her if she came down their driveway?”

  “Not quite that bad, but we all agreed it would be best if Gary and I talk to Mr. and Mrs. Gabler then take the ideas to Kathy.”

  It was cute that he called them Mr. and Mrs. Gabler as if he were still a little boy playing with their son. “Did you stay in touch with them?”

  “The day I told them about Jeff’s death was the first time I’ve talked to them since Jeff and Kathy got married.”

  “But you were close before that?” Getting information out of him was like getting that first piece of chocolate pie out of the pan in one piece.

  “Yeah. I spent almost as much time at their house as I did at my own. But then I grew up and left home and my folks moved out of the neighborhood. Then Kathy…” He shrugged. “Life changes.”

  “Guess this wasn’t the best way to renew old acquaintances.”

  “They’re good people. When this is over, they want to meet you. We’ll have dinner with them and my parents.”

  They want to meet you. That meant he’d told them about me. They wanted to meet me, but they didn’t want to be around their daughter-in-law. That thought made me smile.

  I’d only met Trent’s parents once, but I liked them and they seemed to like me. I brought them chocolate chip cookies. How could they not like me?

  “See you tonight?” I asked.

  “Tonight, all night. Somebody broke in here and somebody was murdered in your back yard. It doesn’t matter if they were looking for drugs or a key or your collection of diamond jewelry which, I happen to know, isn’t very large. I’m spending every night right here with you until we get this figured out.”

  I smiled again. If he was spending his nights with me, he wouldn’t be spending them with Kathleen. “If I’m asleep when you get here, feel free to wake me up.”

  He wrapped his arms around me and held me close. “I won’t be late. Lawson’s taking the lead on Jeff’s murder and your intruder since I have a personal involvement in both cases. He’ll get stuck with all the overtime.”

  “Aren’t you worried he won’t do as good a job as you would because he doesn’t have a personal involvement?”

  He laughed softly, his breath warm on my neck. “Cops don’t usually have a personal involvement with criminals.”

  I never thought I’d feel torn about Trent spending more time with me. I wanted him there, of course. But I wanted to solve Ransom’s murder and put Kathleen in jail too.

  Fred and I would have to redouble our efforts and work faster during the time we had in the evenings before Trent got to my house.

  Chapter Twelve

  Paula was sprinkling cinnamon and sugar on her dough when I dragged my tired body into Death by Chocolate that morning.

  “What happened last night?” she asked without looking up. “Since you said it was an anonymous body, I assume you didn’t kill Rick.”

  I tied on an apron and told her the whole story while I measured the dry ingredients for brownies. Well, the whole story except for my worries about Trent and Kathleen. That part wasn’t essential to understanding what happened.

  She rolled up the dough and began slicing. “That doesn’t make sense. If the two men came to your house together, why did one of them kill the other?”

  “I don’t know. Trent doesn’t know. But remember, Rick was involved, so it’s normal for things not to make sense.” I measured flour into my bowl and added cocoa.

  “You do realize Rick and Clayton are going into something that could be dangerous. Rick’s too cocky for his own good, and Clayton’s just a boy, probably a scared boy.”

  “The cops will be there to step in if things go bad.”

  “It depends on how
fast things go bad. I wonder if Robin has any idea about what her brother’s involved in.”

  “I doubt it or she’d be performing brain surgery on Rick without any anesthetic.” I stirred oil, butter and eggs in a separate bowl. “I’d like to see that.”

  “It may be time to tell her.”

  I was surprised that Paula had reversed her previous opinion and was actually suggesting I interfere, but I was even more surprised that I didn’t want to. Yesterday I’d been thinking solely about warning Robin that Rick was a jerk and could be leading her brother into trouble. Today I’d have to tell Robin her brother was in big trouble. It no longer sounded like a fun thing to do. “That’s not what you said yesterday. You said it wasn’t a good idea for me to get involved in my ex-husband’s relationship with his new girlfriend.”

  “Yesterday we didn’t know this involved drugs and her brother was going into a dangerous situation.”

  I poured my brownie batter into three pans and put them in the oven. “I’ll call her after we close.” Put it off as long as possible.

  “You don’t think you should do it before her brother walks into danger?”

  “Maybe.” I washed my mixing bowl and prepared to make chocolate chip cookies. “Probably. But I don’t know exactly when the sting is going down.”

  “Then call her right now.”

  “I have flour on my hands.”

  “Wash them.”

  I sighed, washed my hands, and took out my cell phone. Yes, I had my ex’s girl friend’s number. Not because I’m nosy or anything like that. She’s a doctor. It’s always a good idea to have the home phone number of a doctor handy in case something happens, like Rick getting a head injury from my iron skillet.

  I sighed again, this time in relief when my call went straight to voicemail. I wouldn’t have to deliver the news in person. I left a message detailing the entire situation, enough information she didn’t need to call me back. But I ended with, “Call me if you have any questions.” Please don’t have any questions! Just kill Rick and leave me out of it!

  The morning went by fast. I chugged a few Cokes and kept moving. I was surprisingly awake and alert. Of course, the adrenalin from finding an intruder in my home, a body in my back yard, and the worry that Robin would call me at any minute contributed to staying wide awake.

  The lunch rush started winding down. I set a tray of dirty dishes in the sink and turned to go back and serve more chocolate. Paula came into the kitchen. “The couple in the far corner would like to talk to you when you have time.”

  Normally when someone asked to speak to me, they wanted to compliment a dessert or inquire about the recipe. But nothing was normal anymore. “What about?”

  She looked at me solemnly.

  My chest clenched. What kind of trouble was I in now?

  “It’s Ransom’s parents.”

  “Oh.” I went back into the restaurant area, to the counter, and glanced at the couple in the corner. They saw me looking and smiled. The woman gave a small wave. She was short with salt and pepper hair and a sweet smile. The man was tall, like his son, but thinner. They looked like nice people, the kind of people who could have raised a son like Ransom.

  I waved back and gave them a thumbs up.

  They were just starting on their Chocolate Caramel Peanut Butter Cake. They’d be occupied for a while.

  I served dessert to a few more people then went to their table with a fresh pot of coffee. “Hi. I’m Lindsay.”

  The man extended his hand. Other than having streaks of gray in his hair, he looked very much like Ransom.

  “Pleased to meet you, Lindsay. I’m Warren Gabler. This is my wife, Maggie.”

  I shook his hand then Maggie’s. The laugh lines around her eyes told me she didn’t usually look so sad. “It’s very nice to meet Rans—uh, Jeff’s parents. I only met him the one time, but we bonded over chocolate.”

  Maggie’s eyes misted. “He did love chocolate. I hope you don’t mind our stopping by. Adam and Gary came over this morning to make plans for…” She blinked. Her husband laid his hand over hers. “For our son’s memorial service. Adam told us about you and about Jeff’s visit here. We just wanted to meet you.”

  “I’m glad you did. Trent—Adam—said we were all going to get together when everything is…uh…over.” Over? I flinched at my own word choice. When your son’s funeral is over. When your son’s murder investigation is over.

  Maggie wrapped a hand around her coffee cup and looked at her husband then back at me. “We thought perhaps we could have a chat before then.”

  “Sure. Let me see if anybody needs anything and I’ll be back.”

  I refilled a few more cups as I wended my way to the counter, served a few more cookies, and rang up a few more tickets.

  Paula came over. “Go talk to them. I can handle the people left.”

  I grabbed a couple of cookies for them and a glass of Coke for me. My chocolate chip cookies always put people in a better mood.

  I sat down at their table. “Your son liked my cookies. I hope you do too.”

  “Thank you.”

  Warren took a bite of his. “Delicious.”

  Maggie nibbled at hers. A smile crinkled her eyes. “Yes, this is the kind of thing Jeff loved.” She set her cookie on the plate. “Adam has always been like a son to us.”

  “He mentioned spending a lot of time at your house when he was young.”

  “Adam, Gary, and Jeff were inseparable.”

  “And Kathy,” her husband added.

  Maggie’s smile disappeared. “And Kathy. She had a tough life, you know.”

  I sat back and crossed my arms. “I heard.” Were they going to enter some kind of plea that I be kind to Kathleen? Let her have Adam because she had a tough life?

  “After her dad left, her mother…” Maggie’s gaze darted toward her husband as if she expected him to supply the appropriate word.

  “I heard.” I saved them from trying to find the word.

  “She was a pretty little girl.”

  “Hmmm.” I hadn’t heard that—probably because Trent was afraid I’d hit him if he said it.

  “We did everything possible to help her.” Warren squeezed his wife’s hand.

  “She was like a sister to the boys. They shared their toys and candy with her, took care of her.” Maggie folded her hands so tightly the knuckles turned white. “When kids are little, they tell outrageous stories about tigers in the back yard and invisible friends. But as they get older, they learn the difference between truth and stories.”

  “We teach them the difference,” Warren said. “We teach our children that it’s okay to tell a story for fun, but lying is wrong.”

  I nodded and waited. I had a feeling I knew where this was going.

  “Kathy never learned the difference,” Maggie said. “As she got older, she learned to be sneakier, to tell lies that sounded believable. She quit telling stories about her father coming home and bringing a suitcase full of money or her mother being an actress. Those were sad lies. But the others…” She shook her head.

  “I’ve seen her break a toy then accuse one of the boys of doing it,” Warren said.

  “Whoever she accused would just drop his head and not deny it.”

  “And a pathological liar was born,” I said.

  Maggie shook her head again. “No. Pathological liars lie for no reason. Kathy always had a reason for her lies, a reason that benefited her. She lied to my son, told him Adam was abusive, that he had to save her.”

  Trent had said she wasn’t a pathological liar. I’d thought he was defending her. Maybe he wasn’t. “She’s been recycling that lie about abuse. She told her current lover that your son has been beating her.”

  Maggie’s lips compressed. “Adam asked us if that was true. My son would never hurt anyone, not even her. He was getting rid of her the right way. He was divorcing her.”

  “I heard.”

  “He told you?”

  Close. Fred ha
d told me. “He said she liked him better when he was drinking and not paying attention to her.”

  Maggie nodded. “After he moved to St. Louis to set up the new office, he used to come back often, sometimes for business and sometimes to visit. He always stayed with us in his old room. We could tell he wasn’t happy with Kathy, but he wouldn’t talk about it. He and Adam weren’t friends anymore, so he spent a lot of time with Gary.”

  “Gary had grown up in our back yard too, so we didn’t worry,” Warren said. “He and Jeff did the usual guy things, like going to ball games, fishing, deer hunting. But Gary drank too much, and soon Jeff was doing the same thing.”

  “We can’t blame Gary for that,” Maggie said. “I blame Kathy.”

  I liked Maggie.

  “He quit about a year ago,” Warren said. “When he sobered up, he figured out Kathy had been spending a lot of money when he wasn’t paying attention.”

  “A lot of money,” Maggie repeated. “At first he was upset, but then a couple of weeks ago he said it didn’t matter. He suspected she was cheating on him, and he said that didn’t matter either. He said all that mattered was that he couldn’t continue his life until he’d righted a terrible wrong.”

  “We think the wrong he needed to right was cheating on his best friend with Kathy. He said he was going to talk to Adam.”

  “He called him,” I said. “The afternoon he was—um, Monday afternoon.”

  Maggie’s hand lifted to her throat. “Adam didn’t tell us they talked.”

  “They didn’t. Trent didn’t call him back.” The words were barely out of my mouth when I wanted to recall them. I felt as if I’d betrayed Trent by admitting to Ransom’s grieving parents that he’d rejected their son’s attempt to make peace. “He was busy,” I added. Trent was always busy, so that was the truth.

  “Jeff didn’t tell us he was coming to town this last time,” Maggie said. “He stayed in a hotel and didn’t call us. He had a reason for coming to town, something he didn’t want us involved in. We believe that reason had something to do with Kathy. She followed him here.”