Marshmallow Malice

by Amanda Flower

“I had another idea because it’s so hot out,” Charlotte said. “What about chocolate-covered frozen bananas, too?”

  “That’s a great idea,” I said. “Good thinking, Charlotte.”

  Margot beamed. “I’m glad to see that you have everything well in hand. I’m checking with each of the businesses that will be on the square for the celebration to make sure we are good to go. I leave nothing to chance.”

  I knew that was true.

  “I’m especially happy that you don’t seem to be distracted by the murder, Bailey.” Margot studied me as if assessing the truth of her own statement. “I know it can be very tempting to get involved, but the Fourth of July celebration must come first.”

  I made a face, but Margot went on without noticing. “I was very sad to hear about Leeza’s death and to think that Reverend Brook was associated with that poor woman as well. It must have come as quite a shock to Juliet.”

  “Juliet doesn’t believe her husband is involved in Leeza’s death,” I said.

  “Nor should she.” Margot nodded. “They’ve only been married for forty-eight hours, give or take. It’s too soon for her to lose faith in her husband.”

  “Is she implying it will be okay for Juliet to lose faith in him later?” Cass asked out of the side of her mouth.

  “I knew of Leeza,” Margot went on, clearly not having heard Cass’s comment. “I didn’t know her name, but I had seen her before around the village. I had my eye on her.”

  “You kept an eye on her?” Cass asked.

  Margot nodded. “And I wasn’t the least bit surprised that Leeza ended up the way she did. Every time I saw her she was drunk and could barely walk.”

  I frowned. Everyone seemed to think Leeza was drunk all the time, but that didn’t fit with what Becca had told me about her friend.

  Margot clapped her hands. “In any case, I’m glad to see you concentrate on the shop instead of this unseemly murder. Also, I have a surprise for you at the celebration.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. “What kind of surprise?”

  Margot smiled. “I can’t tell you that. It will lose the ‘wow’ factor if I do.”

  I was more afraid that Margot’s surprise would have a “yikes” factor. “I don’t mind knowing about the surprise early,” I said. “Maybe that would be better in case I have a big reaction. I don’t want to overreact in front of the tourists.”

  “A big reaction in front of the tourists would be perfect. Now.” She adjusted her shoulder bag on her arm. “The festivities tomorrow start at five sharp. I would like to have all the booths in place by four. I hate it when vendors set up after the event has already begun. It looks so amateurish.” She wrinkled her nose. “This will be our first fireworks display in the village and it needs to go off with a bang. Excuse the pun, but it’s true. This year, the display will be funded by donations from members of the village. However, I can’t always count on that. We must make sure that Independence Day in Harvest is the premiere Fourth of July celebration in the county, so the village council will budget for it in the future should donations dry up.”

  I had to hand it to Margot; she always thought ahead and planned for the worst.

  “The celebration will be a hit,” I said.

  “I know it will be,” Margot said. “I won’t allow anything less.” With that, she patted her curls and bustled out the door.

  After Margot left, Cass and I carried the strawberries into the kitchen. “You know, Margot scares me just a little,” Cass said.

  “Me too,” I admitted.

  “Everyone is scared of her,” Charlotte said as she held the swinging kitchen door open for us. “Except maybe Ruth Yoder. The bishop’s wife fears nothing.”

  That was accurate.

  Maami was in the kitchen making more marshmallow sticks. “What are all these?” she asked, pointing to the strawberries.

  Cass told her our idea for the Fourth of July celebration.

  “That sounds lovely, and it will be a quick and easy treat, too. We can use the same chocolate we have already melted for the marshmallow sticks. Charlotte, would you whip up some white chocolate for decoration? We can dye some of it red and some of it blue for a patriotic theme. I think the visitors will love it.”

  As much as I wanted to get to the winery and follow up on the matchbook Cass had found, I didn’t feel I could leave my grandmother and Charlotte alone with this oversize job. I glanced at Cass and she gave a slight nodded. We’d help out at the shop and then get back to sleuthing.

  Maami spooned chocolate over another marshmallow stick. “Did you ever find out who that man was at the church?”

  I shook my head as I stirred white chocolate over a double boiler. “No, no one seems to know who he was. However, we did find out who Leeza was.” I went on to tell them about the Chupp family.

  “Oh my,” Maami said. “I’ve bought berries from them in the past. They aren’t members of our district. I didn’t even know RJ had a sister.”

  “I think that’s how he likes it,” I said.

  An hour later, the strawberries were cooling in the fridge next to dozens of marshmallow sticks. Between the two, we would have plenty of treats to satisfy the residents and visitors coming to Harvest for fireworks the next evening.

  Cass raised her eyebrows at me.

  I nodded. It was time to follow up on her clue.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  When some visitors find out that there are wineries in Holmes County, they are surprised. Alcohol of any kind doesn’t fit with their understanding of Amish beliefs. Some think because the Amish are ruled by their faith, they must also abstain from liquor, but that just isn’t the case. Many Amish make beer at home and other forms of spirits.

  The wineries in the county, however, are run by English families. They chose Holmes County because the soil is rich and there were already tourists in the county visiting the Amish businesses. It made sense to open a winery in a location with guaranteed traffic.

  As I drove to Stardust Winery, which was on Route 62, Cass flipped the small purple matchbook in her hand. “When we get there, let me do the talking.”

  I took my eyes off the road for a second to look at her. “Excuse me?”

  “Just this once. I know wine much better than you do. You hardly drink anything more than a rosé.” She shook her head. “The winemakers aren’t going to answer your questions or take you seriously if you can’t speak their language.”

  “We really aren’t there to ask them about the wine.”

  She shook her head as if I’d just proved her point. “You can’t go into a winery and not ask about the wine. That’s like going into a library and not asking about books. It’s just not done.”

  I shrugged. “Fine. If you are so confident about it, we can try it your way.”

  “There is no try.” She grinned. “Don’t worry; it’ll work. Just let me take the lead to warm them up and then you can ask them all the Amish stuff.”

  We came to a consensus just as I turned off the road into a gravel lot beside a purple, one-story building. The winery was small, but the vineyard behind it seemed to roll over the hillside for miles.

  Cass wrinkled her nose. “They must make their wine at a different location. This building is way too small for production.”

  The building didn’t look much bigger than your average dentist’s office.

  She turned back to me. “Okay, again, let me take the lead.”

  “Got it.” I held up my hands. “Let you take the lead and no one gets hurt.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  Despite the size of the building, the winery’s parking lot was packed with cars and one senior tour bus. Cass nodded at the bus. “Don’t get between that crew and their wine.” She said this as though she spoke from experience.

  Shaking my head, I followed her inside the purple building.

  “This is just our tasting room,” a woman dressed in black linen said from behind the black marble counter as she pou
red white wine into the waiting glasses in front of her. “The production building is at the very back of the vineyard.”

  “Can we see it?” an elderly woman asked as she swirled and sniffed her glass.

  “I’m afraid you can’t,” the woman in black said. “It’s closed for renovations.” She smiled over the older woman’s head at Cass and me. “Welcome to Stardust Winery. Can I interest you in a sample?”

  “You most certainly can,” Cass said and stepped around the other women to the counter. Cass was so tiny, she could bob and weave around others. I, on the other hand, had to say “excuse me” half a dozen times.

  By the time I made it to the counter, Cass had a glass of merlot in front of her and was chatting up the server. The server had wrapped her black hair in a tight bun on top of her head and she wore long, dangly, mismatched earrings. One was in the shape of a wineglass. The other was a wine bottle.

  “Oh,” the woman said. “We make all our own vintage, but as I said, it’s not made here. It’s in a building at the back of the vineyard.”

  “Where is it made?” Cass asked. “Is it somewhere that we can tour?”

  She shook her head, and her earrings swayed back and forth. “I’m afraid not. The building is under construction. It’s still in operation, but it’s not safe for visitors.”

  “You have been so helpful,” Cass said and held up her half-empty glass. “I think I have found a new favorite.”

  “If you like that, let me pour another that’s just a touch heavier. This vintage will really tell you how red you like your wine.”

  “The redder the better,” Cass said.

  The server placed a new glass on the counter, opened a new bottle, and poured the wine into a decanter. She left it on the counter for a little while to let it breathe, or I assumed that’s what she was doing. I knew much more about candy and chocolate than I did about wine.

  While the decanter sat, Cass waved her away. “Please help the others while we wait.”

  The server thanked Cass and moved down the bar. She chatted with the other women and poured the wines of their choice, not once missing a beat.

  Cass sipped her original glass and said out of the side of her mouth, “I think she will be just the ticket to learn about what Leeza’s connection to this place is.”

  “If there is a connection,” I said.

  “There is. I can feel it in my bones.”

  I rolled my eyes and was about to make a smart remark about Cass’s bones when the woman with the earrings circled back.

  She beamed at Cass. “That should have rested for long enough. Let me pour you a glass. Now, hold it under your nose for a moment and register the notes it gives off.”

  “Oh, it smells earthy,” Cass said as she held the wineglass just below her nose. “I can already tell that this one will be my favorite.”

  “Swirl and sip,” the woman said.

  Cass did as instructed. “Wow, that’s wonderful.” She held the glass out to me. “You try, Bai.”

  I took the glass from her hand, and swirled and sipped as well. The wine had a very bitter taste and reminded me of the darkest form of chocolate, one that I had used for some recipes at JP Chocolates in New York. It had been 98 percent cacao and cost a small fortune. However, it was the exact chocolate that a well-to-do bride had wanted for her wedding truffles. If she was willing to pay the price, who was I to argue?

  “It has a cacao flavor,” I said.

  The server beamed at me. “Right! Not many people pick that up. They think of chocolate as being sweet. They don’t know that it’s the sugar that makes it sweet. Cacao itself is quite bitter.”

  “We are chocolatiers visiting from New York,” Cass said, including me in that statement. It was true that I had been a NYC chocolatier, but I wasn’t anymore. I wasn’t going to argue the point in front of a possible source, though.

  “How lovely! I love New York. I go there as often as I can.” She leaned across the counter. “My big dream is to be a wine critic in the city. I’m doing all I can to save up and study so that I can make the move.”

  “If you do,” Cass said, “look me up when you make it to the city. I’m Cass Calbera. I’m the head chocolatier at JP Chocolates.”

  “I heard that there’s a candy shop here in Holmes County that has a former chocolatier from JP Chocolates working there.”

  “That would be me,” I said, and glanced at Cass. “I used to be at JP Chocolates, but now I’m working here at my family’s candy shop in Harvest.”

  Something flashed in her eyes for a moment. I don’t know if it was recognition or possibly even fear. “I’m looking forward to moving to New York. This place is way too small. If the fire marshal happened by and saw how many people were in here right now, he’d shut us down,” she said with a laugh.

  I examined the crammed space. Other than Cass’s server, I spotted three other staffers in black filling the tourists’ waiting wineglasses.

  “What was your name?” Cass asked. “You have given us such great service, I want to mention you in my review. I love writing reviews of places when I travel. And if you stop by JP Chocolates and I’m not there, you can leave your name with one of my staffers. I’ll be sure to add you to our friends and family list, for a special treat.”

  She hesitated for moment. “Aubrey.”

  “How long have you worked here, Aubrey?” Cass asked.

  Aubrey touched her wine bottle earring and it swung back and forth.

  Cass smiled. “You are so knowledgeable about the wines. You must have a lot of experience.”

  Aubrey blushed and her nerves seemed to melt away. “Why, thank you. I just had my fifth anniversary with the winery. Working for this company has been a great decision for me, especially with my plan to move to New York.”

  “Yes,” Cass said. “By the time you arrive in the city, you will have made a great start on your career.”

  Blushing again, Aubrey asked, “Is there anything else I can get either of you?”

  “Just a bottle of that last wine,” Cass said.

  “Very good,” Aubrey said. She hesitated for a moment. “That is one of our more expensive wines.” She handed Cass a price sheet. “It’s a ninety-five point wine . . .”

  “It’s delicious and worth every penny.” Cass smiled. “Besides, I have a credit card.”

  Aubrey nodded. “Just let me go grab it for you.” She stepped around a coworker who was pouring wine for an elderly couple and into the next room, marked “employees only.”

  “You don’t have to buy it just for information,” I said.

  “I want to. It’s actually very good. I was thinking of giving JP a bottle and suggesting we work on a wine truffle series. This just might be the wine for it. I’ve never tasted anything like it before.”

  “That’s not a bad idea. I wish I could do something like that as Swissmen Sweets, but I don’t think I could get away with a wine truffle series in my grandmother’s Amish candy shop. It took a long time to convince her to sell lavender blueberry fudge, and that was alcohol-free.”

  “Who knew solving a murder could lead to a new truffle?” Cass asked.

  “I think when you’re a chocolatier, just about any experience leads to a new truffle.”

  Aubrey returned with the bottle of wine wrapped carefully in a canvas bag. When she said the total cost of the wine, I stifled a gasp. Cass, however, didn’t even flinch as she handed over her credit card. Had I been in New York, I would have expected the price Aubrey quoted, but I realized that I had lived in Ohio long enough now that I had a serious case of sticker shock.

  Aubrey rang up the sale and handed Cass the bag and her card.

  “Thank you. I had one more question you might be able to help me with,” Cass began.

  “Of course,” Aubrey said. Now that she had made a sale, her guard appeared to be all the way down.

  “Is there someone by the name of Leeza here?” Cass said. “A friend of mine suggested that I come to this win
ery and look her up. That was several months ago, so I wonder if Leeza even works here any longer.”

  Aubrey looked pale. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

  “That’s strange. My friend seemed quite sure that she worked here at Stardust.” Cass looked over at me. “Bailey, don’t you remember our friend Susan saying that?”

  I simply nodded. I didn’t like the idea of lying—and Cass and I didn’t have a friend named Susan.

  “I don’t know anyone by that name.” Her expression closed off. “If that’s all you need, I should move on to the next customer.”

  “Of course,” Cass stepped back. “I’m sorry for keeping you so long.”

  The rapport between the two of them had fizzled out. Aubrey stepped away from us and, instead of going to the next customer, went into the back room where she had retrieved the wine bottle.

  Cass and I shared a look and, after a beat, trailed Aubrey through the doorway. I loved that we didn’t even have to say “follow her” to know that’s what we both had in mind.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  To my surprise, none of the other staffers tried to stop us when we went into the room marked “employees only.”

  Wine racks lined the walls of the second room, and it was at least fifteen degrees cooler than the tasting room. I shivered and rubbed my bare arms.

  “Who knew a little winery in the middle of Amish country would make so many different kinds of wines?” Cass asked. “There must be fifteen varieties in here.”

  “I can see that, but where did Aubrey go? She came into this room and disappeared. There’s nowhere to hide among the rows of bottles,” I said.

  “She had to go somewhere. People don’t evaporate.”

  “Maybe there is a door behind one of the wine racks.”

  “Like a secret door?” Cass asked. “This case gets weirder by the second.”

  I agreed as Cass and I moved around the room in search of such a door, but it was quickly evident that there was nothing like that in the room.

  The floor beneath my feet shifted. I stumbled away from the spot as a three-by-three-foot square of floorboard lifted.