Itsy-Bitsy Murder (Chocolate Cozy Mystery Book 2)

by Wendy Meadows

  “She was,” Pinkie muttered. “She was the happiest she’d ever been on the day the clinic opened. We worked so hard to make sure everything was perfect.”

  Olivia snuck around to Pinkie’s spot, then bent over and touched her fingers to the mouse. What had he been staring at one the screen? The windows screen saver disappeared and a Word document opened in front of her.

  She squinted at the words. A pity she’d neglected to bring her reading glasses on this particular trip.

  Movement caught her gaze.

  Arthur Pink turned toward the desk. Olivia’s heart skipped several beats.

  Alvira grabbed Pinkie’s arm and jerked him around. “You need to remember something,” she said and glared at him.

  “Uh? What?” Pinkie gave a nervous laugh.

  Olivia returned to her reading. She’d have to make this quick as a flash.

  “What do I have to remember?” Pinkie asked.

  “That Jana is a strong woman.” Alvira cleared her throat.

  “Are you asking me?”

  “No!” Alvira squeaked.

  Olivia buried a laugh in the bottom of her gut. She focused on the screen.

  Dear Jana,

  I know you will never return my feelings, but I feel I have to write this to you, now, before it’s too late. As I type this, you lie in your hospital bed, on the cusp of leaving me forever. I can’t live without you, darling. I love you.

  Please come back to the clinic before your sister ruins it for good.

  Ever yours,

  Arthur Pink.

  P.S. It’s Pinkie.

  Olivia worked her jaw and backed away from the computer. Boy, she’d hadn’t read anything as mushy since the first time she’d picked up a Danielle Steele book.

  Olivia whipped out her new phone and snapped a pic of the letter. She’d only just figured out how to use the silly thing.

  “Could you let go of my arm, now?” Pinkie asked. “You’re kinda hurting me.”

  “Oh, sorry,” Alvira said, and released him, immediately.

  Olivia darted around to the other side of the desk, just in time. “Alvira’s right, you know. Jana’s a strong woman. She’ll be back.” And she truly meant that, distractions aside.

  Three bangs sounded inside the store.

  Arthur Pink screeched and clutched his ears.

  Chapter Twelve

  Arthur Pink grasped his rosy cheeks and stared at the glass front door of the Cuddle Clinic. The plastic CLOSED sign rattled against the pane.

  “What on earth?” Olivia whispered.

  A woman pressed her nose flat against the glass, her eyes narrowed to slits. She grasped the frame on either side and braced herself against it. “Open this door!” she yelled.

  Where did Olivia recognize her from? She’d seen her a few days back, hadn’t she?

  Pinkie exhaled and dropped his arms to his sides. “Oh, it’s just Bitsy.”

  “Mrs. Bitsworth!” The old woman roared, and spittle hit the front door.

  Alvira grimaced and back-pedaled until she hit the counter. She halted at Olivia’s side, and they shared a glance.

  “It is freezing out here,” Mrs. Bitsworth yelled. “Open this door before I break it down.”

  “We’re closed, ma’am,” Pinkie called back.

  Bitsy raised a gnarled finger and poked it toward Olivia and Alvira. “You don’t look closed to me.”

  Arthur Pink cleared his throat three times in a row.

  The bright lights overhead highlighted his discomfort. The pink complexion had paled, the color drained away, sluiced down by anxiety.

  “This is a disaster,” he mumbled. “Jessica’s going to kill me.”

  “I hope you don’t mean that literally,” Olivia said.

  Arthur jumped as if he’d forgotten they were in the store. Nervous laughter bubbled from his lips, and he rushed toward the door. He turned the lock and stepped back.

  Mrs. Bitsworth burst into the interior of the Cuddle Clinic. She was larger than life, a woman on a mission.

  She stumbled forward a step and flailed both arms to either side of her. Pinkie grabbed hold of one, and she froze him with a deathly stare.

  “Unhand me, you idiot.”

  He dropped her arm immediately. “Sorry, just trying to help.”

  “Do you really think I need your help?” Bitsy asked and swayed on the spot. “I’ve been walking my entire life, young man. Longer than you’ve existed.”

  “Uh, okay.” Pinkie jammed his mouth shut and gulped. His Adam’s apple bobbed above the collar of his SpongeBob SquarePants shirt. “Is there something I can help you with, Mrs. Bitsworth?”

  “Probably not. You’re inept at everything,” Bitsy said and swayed toward the reception desk. She rested her forearms on the high wooden surface and held herself upright. Her gaze flickered from the young clinic assistant to Olivia and Alvira.

  “Uh oh,” Alvira muttered.

  “And what about you two?” Bitsy asked. “What are you doing here?”

  “Uh, I—uh…” Alvira’s stammering replaced Pinkie’s frantic huffing and puffing.

  “We’re here on personal business, Mrs. Bitsworth,” Olivia said in a firm tone.

  She wasn’t afraid of a grumpy old lady with a walking problem. She’d spent a lot of time around her own grumpy grandmother as a child, and that woman made Bitsy look like a kitten by comparison.

  Bitsy’s lips writhed in a straight line. “What’s going on?” she asked and turned on Pinkie. “Why isn’t that Jujube woman here? I want to see the manager. I had an appointment this morning, and I got a message that said I couldn’t come.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Bitsworth,” Arthur Pink replied. “The Cuddle Clinic is closed for now. We’re working on some renovations and changes.”

  “Changes? What kinds of changes?” Bitsy asked, her gaze turning as sharp as two daggers in a Shakespearean play.

  “The new owner wants to focus on select cuddle clients. She’s, uh, she’s raising the prices of cuddle sessions,” Arthur said and ran his hand through his white-blond hair.

  “What?!” Bitsy slapped her hands on the desktop as her knees gave way. She pulled herself upright again. “Raising the prices?”

  “She hasn’t finalized what the prices will be. All I know is they’ll be higher.”

  Bitsy turned red as a beet and clenched her jaw. “Ridiculous! This is toxic. I thought for sure this would be over by now.”

  “Over?” Olivia asked.

  Bitsy ignored her. “You can’t charge more for cuddles. Some of us can barely afford them as it is.”

  Apparently, Mrs. Bitsworth needed all the cuddles she could get.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t know what to say,” Arthur replied. He hung his head, then glanced up at the picture of Jana Jujube. “If it was my choice, I’d—”

  The front door of the store swung inward, and Jessica strode into the room. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of Olivia and Alvira. Her fists went to her hips. “What are you—?”

  “What’s this I hear about a price increase?” Bitsy snapped and turned on the woman. She wobbled forward a few feet, then stopped and emulated Jessica’s pose.

  Arthur sank backward and slunk toward the reception desk. He tried making himself small. It didn’t work.

  “Pink,” Jessica growled, “why are all these people in the clinic? We’re closed.”

  “I, uh, they knocked on the door.”

  “We were just leaving,” Olivia said and looped her arm through Alvira’s. Her assistant followed her toward the exit.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” Jessica replied. “You stay right there. I’m calling the cops.”

  “You,” Bitsy pointed a wizened finger at Jessica’s nose, “you have a lot of explaining to do. Don’t try to avoid my questions, young lady. Why are you raising prices? What is the meaning of this?”

  Jessica worked her jaw. “I’ve got to make sure that the—wait a second, I don’t owe you an explanation.”
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br />   “She’s a customer, Miss Jujube,” Arthur said and sank into his squeaky office chair.

  Olivia had seen enough. She made a beeline for the door and burst out onto the sidewalk. The cold morning air numbed her cheeks, and she shrugged her shoulders up to guard her ears.

  “Hurry,” she whispered to Alvira, and steam gushed from her mouth. “Before Jessica realizes we’re gone.”

  “This is like one of those investigation shows,” Alvira replied, quickening her pace.

  That was an optimistic observation. At least in those shows, the investigators had substantial leads.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Olivia dusted cocoa powder over the truffles. It snowed from the base of her metal dispenser, a fine powder that clung to the moist balls and scattered across the steel tray beneath them.

  “Delicious,” Alberta said and leaned toward the finished product. “I must say, time in the kitchen is the best time of all.”

  “I thought you loved serving the customers,” Olivia replied, putting down the cocoa powder. “You love the gossip and so on.”

  “Oh, I do, I do. But the smells in this kitchen are irresistible,” Alberta replied. “And there’s something so satisfying about completing a truffle to put out on one of our trays.”

  “I agree,” Olivia said and touched her finger to the side of her nose. The cocoa-coated truffles sat side by side, nudging each other, nestled in cocoa and waiting for the right customer to come along.

  The chocolates made her day, but she still couldn’t get the case out of her thoughts.

  Bitsy’s tantrum had triggered a deluge of suspicion, and it washed over her every time she focused on what happened in the Cuddle Clinic.

  Pinkie’s love letter to Jana also provided a little more insight than she’d anticipated. What if Jana had rejected his advances, and Pinkie had gotten angry? It would explain the strange sense of guilt that hovered around the rosy-cheeked receptionist.

  “Olivia?” Alberta tapped her on the arm. “Are you in there, dear?”

  “Oh, sorry! Did you say something?” Olivia asked. She’d totally been lost in thought.

  “I asked if you’d like me to take the new batch out.” Alberta’s soft smile crinkled the lines around her mouth.

  “Yes, please,” Olivia said and grinned back.

  The As had been super supportive of her investigation, but she still hadn’t opened up her investigation case. The intimidation factor was just too high at the moment.

  Alberta picked up the tray and carted it out of the kitchen. A swell of noise rushed through the open door—the happy chatter of customers and the dull thuds of coffee cups on her dark wood tables.

  Olivia turned to the next tray and lifted her cocoa dispenser. The kitchen door swung open behind her, and the noise rushed back in.

  “Done already?” Olivia asked. “I thought for sure you’d hang around to catch the gossip in the store, Albie.”

  “Miss Cloud,” a man said.

  Olivia spun on the spot, and cocoa sprayed across the tiles. “Oh shoot,” she said and dropped the dispenser on the counter again.

  Jake Morgan stood just inside the kitchen doors. The square glass panes in them allowed Olivia a glimpse of Alberta at the counter; she smiled and chattered away with one of their noisiest customers, Lanie Hayden.

  “You’re not supposed to be in here,” Olivia said, grimacing at the mess on the floor.

  “I came to save you some trouble, Miss Cloud,” Jake said. He folded his arms across his loose cotton button-down. “We need to talk. As soon as possible.”

  The kitchen door swung open and crashed into Jake’s back. He stumbled forward and careened into the counter. The cocoa dispenser popped open, and a brown cloud enveloped the private investigator.

  “Oh my,” said Alberta from the doorway. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there, Jake.”

  “It’s…fine,” he said and rose from the countertop. He dusted off his shirt, but his hands merely smeared brown all down the front.

  Olivia snorted a laugh and choked on the cocoa powder.

  The corners of Jake’s mouth twitched upward.

  “Albie,” Olivia coughed. “Could you clean up this mess, please? I need to speak with Jake for a moment.”

  “Of course, dear,” Alberta replied. She bustled toward the sink at the other end of the kitchen.

  “Right this way,” Olivia said. “We’ll talk upstairs. I have wet wipes up there.” Olivia hurried past Jake and out of the kitchen.

  The customers didn’t notice Olivia’s cocoa-covered appearance—they were too busy enjoying their chocolates—but Alvira’s jaw dropped. “Are you okay?” she called out.

  “Fine, fine,” Olivia said and flapped her palms.

  She hurried to the stairs and up them, then fumbled the key out of her Block-a-Choc Shoppe apron and unlocked the gate. She rushed through, and Jake followed her, then she slammed it closed with a clang.

  Dodger barked from the living room.

  “It’s just me, darling,” Olivia called out.

  The dog padded down the hall toward them, his nails scraping on the carpet. He stopped and gave Jake a few sniffs and sneezed.

  “Chocolate isn’t good for dogs,” Jake said, but he patted Dodger on the head anyway.

  “This way,” Olivia said and led him down the hall and into the kitchen. She hurried to her cupboards, bent and rooted around in one for her wet wipe stash. With Dodger around, she had to be prepared.

  “Olivia,” Jake said, behind her, “I came because Detective Keene called me. He thought I could talk some sense into you.”

  “Sense?” Olivia mumbled into the darkness. “Ah!” She grabbed the wet wipes, then backed out of the cupboard and straightened up. She tore off the tab, took out a few, and tossed the pack to the investigator.

  Jake caught it deftly in one hand. “He’s concerned because he got a call from Jessica Jujube this morning. Apparently, you were in the Cuddle Clinic again.”

  “I forgot how that was a crime,” Olivia said and dabbed at the front of her apron.

  “It’s not, but Olivia, he’s suspicious enough as it is. If he thinks you’re interfering in an ongoing investigation, he will arrest you. That’s not good for business,” Jake said.

  “Oh please,” Olivia said. “Don’t pretend you care what happens to me or my store, Mr. Morgan. You’ve made it amply clear where your loyalties lie.”

  “This is not about loyalties. I was hired to do a job,” Jake replied, scraping at the brown streaks on his shirt. They didn’t budge. If anything, the wet wipes made the situation worse.

  “And how is that job going?” Olivia asked and touched her fingers to the outline of her phone in her pocket. If she told him about her discovery, he’d probably be furious with her.

  “Oh no, I’m not falling for that one, Olivia.” It was the first time he’d called her Olivia since their last case together. Goodness, why did it give her butterflies? It was ridiculous.

  “Did you know Pinkie is in love with Jana Jujube?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest, the wet wipes clutched in her fist.

  “I—what?”

  “That’s right,” Olivia said. “He is in love with her. And I’m not sure she returned his feelings.”

  Jake’s lips flopped open and closed. “But you don’t think—I mean, of course, I knew that,” he said. “Of course.” But the creeping blush on his cheeks told another tale.

  “I see,” Olivia said. “I guess we don’t have anything else to discuss then.”

  Dodger trotted between them and to his bowl in the corner of the kitchen. He slurped up water and splashed some on the tiles.

  “I—look, Olivia, just stay out of it, okay?” Jake forced a smile.

  “Fine,” she said, but she didn’t mean a word of it.

  Clearly, Jake had no idea what to expect in the case, and that didn’t imbue Olivia with a lot of hope for its resolution.

  No, it was up to her now. Perhaps that c
ase of investigative goodies would come in handy after all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I can’t say I’m a huge fan of stakeouts,” Alvira whispered. She ducked down behind a bush. “Takeout, yeah, but this?”

  “Hush, someone will hear you,” Olivia said, lifting her new night-vision goggles to her eyes. She twisted and clicked the knobs, and the house opposite them sprang into view, coated in a green haze.

  The lampposts created glare, which made her eyes water, but Olivia didn’t shift an inch. Arthur Pink had garnered her attention, and he wouldn’t shake it without good reason.

  “How do we know he’ll come out of there at this time of night?” Alvira asked.

  Olivia dropped the night-vision goggles and checked her watch. “It’s not that late.”

  “It’s past nine!” Alvira hissed. “Don’t get me wrong. I signed up for this, and I’m glad I tagged along, but it’s kind of…creepy.”

  Olivia lifted the goggles again and ignored her. She had to focus on the task at hand. The lights in what had to be Pinkie’s living room window hadn’t switched off yet. Did that mean he was awake?

  The light clicked off, and Olivia inhaled. After a few tense seconds, the front door of the house creaked open, and Pinkie emerged. He halted on his front porch, then glanced left and right.

  “I knew it,” Olivia hissed. “He’s up to something.”

  “What? What’s he doing?” Alvira asked.

  Pinkie froze and cocked his head in their direction.

  Olivia pressed her finger to her lips. “He can hear you,” she mouthed without removing her night-vision goggles.

  Alvira didn’t reply. She’d received the message loud and clear.

  Pinkie hurried down his front stairs and took a right.

  “Let’s move,” Olivia whispered.

  She extricated herself from the bush but kept to the shadows. They tailed the suspicious man down the street.

  “Olivia,” Alvira whispered, “you know, if he looks back at you now, he’s going to be kind of freaked out. You’ve got those massive binoculars attached to your face.”