Mint Chocolate Chip Mysteries, Books 1-3

by Emmie Lyn

  “Halt!” A voice, familiar, but in this bizarre situation it took me a few seconds to place it.

  I rolled to my side, unceremoniously dumping Melanie off my back. She landed with a thump and a groan. As I tried to stand up, she grabbed my ankle, tripping me to my knees.

  “Where are you going?” she asked in a panicky voice.

  “Let go, Melanie! You aren’t about to die,” I said, then turned and shaded my eyes from the lights. “Mick? What the heck are you doing? Turn those lights off. Now!”

  Officer Mick Walker held a big portable spotlight but, to his credit, he did lower the beam so I could see again. His jaw was clamped on the ever-present toothpick at the corner of his mouth.

  “Odd time of day to be out for a stroll, Sunny.” If words were combustible, these would be flaming.

  By now, Hitch had returned with Izzy in his arms, near tears, with Jasper sticking close like Velcro. I imagined how scared she was, especially after what she’d already been through today. I boiled with anger. Hitch glared at Mick but knew enough to stay quiet or risk escalating the situation. Jasper leaned against Izzy’s dangling legs for added comfort.

  I stepped closer to Mick. “Put the light down, Mick. You’re scaring Izzy. What’s wrong with a group of us taking a walk on a beautiful evening like this?” I’d learned that the best way to deal with Mick was to put him on the spot.

  Mick took his eyes off me, thankfully, and finally noticed Izzy clutching Hitch’s neck like it was the only thing that kept her from falling completely apart. Melanie stood up and brushed the dirt and twigs from her clothes.

  “Is this part of tonight’s entertainment?” she asked. “I mean, I know I said I was a city girl at heart, but you didn’t have to call in the city lights just for little old me.” She jabbed my side. “I’ve got this, she whispered.”

  Mick squinted. “Melanie? What are you doing here?”

  Huh? I looked at her wondering what these two had in common.

  “Well,” she said like she was talking to a naughty boy. She even put her hands on her hips. Mick’s jaw slackened. “I’m glad you asked, Mick. Ron invited all the members of the birding group over so we could spend some time remembering Andy. Maybe you didn’t know this, but Andy was an honorary member of the group because of his incredible talent photographing birds. We’re all very upset about what happened to him.” She added a sniffle, which almost made me snort.

  “Oh,” Mick said. He even looked at his feet instead of facing more of Melanie’s lecture straight on. I was impressed at her power.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked with a tone that suggested he’d better have a darn good reason if he ever expected her to talk to him again.

  “Well… the police station… got a call… something about people walking around the murder scene and someone needed to check it out. With a murderer still on the loose, people are kind of jumpy I guess.”

  “Who called?” I asked. It was ridiculous to imagine that anyone would even see us out here.

  “It was an anonymous call, but I had to investigate,” he said with attitude like that was justification for scaring us half to death. “Where’s the rest of the group?”

  “Right here, Officer,” Ron said, striding into the circle. Jess ran to Izzy while Peter and Scott stood with Ron. “We took a different path. What’s with that light we saw from all the way back near the house? Don’t tell me I can’t invite friends over and let them walk on my property.”

  “Like I just told the others here,” Mick said. “Someone called in a complaint about people at the murder scene.”

  “The last I knew, the murder scene is up at the barn,” Ron said. “With police tape sealing it off, it’s obvious that no one has any plans to go in there. Since when are my fields off limit, too?”

  I was quite enjoying Mick’s awkward reception and said, “Maybe next time you should make a phone call first to let Ron know someone might be wandering on his property instead of blindsiding us, especially when there’s a young girl here. Don’t you have any common sense, Mick?”

  “So, no one has seen anyone who shouldn’t be here?” Mick asked.

  “Besides you?” I couldn’t resist asking.

  Izzy, who was still in Hitch’s arms, said, “I saw someone run into the woods when Jasper barked. When the lights came on, I couldn’t see anything anymore. I think you caught the wrong people,” she added.

  Ouch. If Mick didn’t feel outnumbered, and, more importantly, outsmarted before, Izzy, with the honesty of a child, told him exactly which way was up. Getting called out by a ten-year old? Had to be major damage to his ego.

  “You’re done here,” Ron said to Mick, turning his back on the officer and leaving no room for discussion. He walked over and stood next to Jess who stayed close to Hitch and Izzy. “Stacy should have dinner ready and you know what’s after that?” he asked Izzy.

  A grin slowly spread across her face. “Tilly’s mint chocolate chip ice cream cake?”

  “Yes! So, should we walk back to my house now?”

  “Well,” she said thoughtfully. “I think we should finish our walk for Andy’s memory. He’d like that.”

  “You’re right. Andy would like that. Which trail should we take?”

  “I like the one that follows the edge of your field. We can hear the waves crashing on the shore. Then it comes around behind the barn to your house.” She slid out of Hitch’s arms. “I know the way.”

  Ron smiled at Jess. She held her hand out toward him, and Hitch moved to one side so they could follow Izzy while he waited for me to catch up. Behind us, Peter whispered to Melanie, “Why didn’t you wait for me?” He sounded hurt or maybe it was annoyance. I didn’t know him well enough to tell.

  “Oh, sorry. Hitch invited me to tag along with them.” Melanie lied but I wasn’t going to point that out. For all I knew, she had a valid reason for ditching Peter. I was more interested in her interaction with Mick. I’d known him my whole life, and it was obvious that he liked her. She knew how to push his buttons.

  It suddenly hit me that someone was missing from this outing. “Where’s Tilly?” I asked Hitch. “Wasn’t she with us?”

  “She mumbled something and went back to the house. My guess is that she wanted to keep an eye on Little Blue.”

  “She thinks Lana or Stacy might steal her?”

  Hitch shrugged as if he never knew what Tilly was thinking.

  Who did? But now I picked up the pace, feeling an urgency to get back to Ron’s house and find out what Tilly was up to.

  20

  The rising moon cast a luminous glow over the fields as we rounded out our walk and returned to the warm inviting lights of Ron’s house. The scene appeared so peaceful from outside. Who knew what would greet us when we entered?

  Izzy dashed inside with Jasper. Her eagerness for dinner I assumed was more about moving onto dessert. I looked forward to Stacy’s stew and fresh bread, remembering the heady aroma from earlier.

  “Finally,” Tilly said as she steered me inside to a quiet corner. I followed her reluctantly, my eyes on the fragrant dishes coming out of the kitchen. I couldn’t see any of the bounty because of the hungry bodies in the way, but the smells were making me dizzy.

  “You won’t believe what happened when I came back inside,” Tilly said. She seemed determined to prevent me from getting a portion of Stacy’s delicious stew. Nevertheless, I gave her my full attention.

  “Why did you abandon the walk?” I asked, not that it mattered but I was curious.

  “I didn’t abandon anything,” she said. “I planned it to look like I was leaving with everyone on the walk, but I never intended to go far. Someone had to keep an eye on Little Blue, and it’s a good thing I came back.”

  She glanced around at the other guests. Glasses clinked and conversations melded together as everyone headed to the dining room.

  “We have to join them,” I said and pulled on Tilly’s arm.

  “Wait a minute. When I
came back inside, Lana was trying to break into Ron’s bird room.”

  “Break in? You mean, like picking the lock?”

  “No, she hadn’t gotten that far yet. She’d only jiggled and tugged on the doorknob when I surprised her. She gave a lame excuse that she wanted to read one of Ron’s bird books. Claimed she’d seen it when she’d been in his house some other time.”

  That sounded reasonable to me. “But Tilly, maybe she didn’t know he kept the door locked.” Maybe Tilly was making a mountain out of a grain of sand.

  Tilly harrumphed at me. “Well, she sure looked guilty when she saw me. She stuttered and her face turned bright red.” Tilly cupped her hand around her mouth. “She asked me not to mention it to Ron. If that’s not the sign of a guilty conscience, I don’t know what is. What do you think now?” Tilly folded her arms over her chest and stared at me like she had me cornered.

  “She was embarrassed?” My stomach grumbled with hunger and anticipation by the time I finally managed to get Tilly walking toward the dining room. Slowly, but at least we were moving in the right direction. With luck, there’d still be some stew left when we finally sat down.

  “Of course, she was embarrassed. Embarrassed to get caught trying to break into a room that houses one of the rarest birds in the world. I’d hang my head in shame, too. We have to keep our eyes on her. She pretends to be a quiet librarian during the day, but she’s got a whole other personality that she brings out when she’s not working.”

  “A real Jekyll and Hyde,” I said.

  “Make fun all you want, Sunny, but I think she wants that bird.”

  Oh, Tilly. I want to eat! She was slowing down as she tried to convince me, and I did my best to hurry her to the food. “And do you think that she killed Andy, too?” I asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “Tilly. I saved you a seat. You too, Sunny.” Lana called and waved to us.

  Tilly smirked at me. “See? She’s afraid I’m going to tell Ron about her foray into his private room while everyone else was outside. She wants to keep me close to her.”

  With Tilly on one side of Lana, I wedged myself on the other next to Peter. If Tilly kept Lana busy, I’d have a chance to grill him about Andy. If I could distract him from Melanie on his other side. Complications.

  Ron stood and raised his wine glass. “To Andy. A very talented photographer who I’m honored to have known for the short time he was here. Peter? Would you like to say something?”

  Peter slowly rose. I had the feeling that he hadn’t expected Ron to put him on the spot like this. He seemed to take his time gathering his thoughts.

  We sat in silence with candlelight flickering around us. I gazed up at him until he finally said, “Andy. A lost soul who did have enormous talent. I too am honored to have worked so closely with him. I got to know more about what made him tick. I’ll be dedicating my next book to his incredible talent. Sadly, it was cut so short.”

  We all tapped our glasses with our neighbors’ and drank to the memory of Andy Schultz, photographer. It was a strange group and a weirder memorial since, from what I’d heard, these people hadn’t liked Andy. But did they have big enough grievances to have murdered him? That was the question, wasn’t it?

  The bowl of stew was making its way around the table. I hoped there was plenty.

  I tapped my neighbor on the arm as we waited for our turn. “Peter?”

  He turned toward me. “Yes?”

  “I’m hoping to learn a bit more about Andy. Did he have any family?”

  He took a sip of his wine, then said, “I’ve wondered about that myself. He was a private kind of person, and if he did, he didn’t share that detail with me.”

  He turned back toward Melanie. She’d already shown herself as a chatterbox, and nothing about the evening had changed that. She regaled him with every minute detail from our encounter with Officer Walker before Peter had arrived, exaggerating here and there to make the story even more interesting.

  “I wonder who called the police station,” she said. “Who even lives close enough to see anything here on Ron’s land?” She took the big bowl of stew and served herself, then Peter, as a mother would her young child, before handing the bowl to him. “What did you think about Izzy saying she saw someone run into the woods? I wonder who that was.”

  “What?” he asked, passing the bowl along. “There was someone out there besides us?”

  “You didn’t hear Izzy tell us that? Maybe it was just a shadow, but the dog was barking like crazy, too.”

  Peter sat back in his chair. “I wonder if it’s the same person I saw glimpses of several times when I was out with Andy. He even tried to chase the person one time, but with all his camera equipment slowing him down, the intruder disappeared without any trouble.”

  I butted in and said, “Why would Andy care?” I managed to draw Peter’s attention away from Melanie.

  “I don’t know. He never told me, but it distracted him so much he couldn’t focus on the birds. It was strange. Whoever it was, completely took Andy out of the moment and whatever I’d hoped to accomplish that day was done.”

  More questions and interest swirled around Andy now that he was dead than I was aware of when he was alive. If the nighttime intruder was the killer, why would he come back? Were there clues to the killer’s identity hidden somewhere in Andy’s past?

  21

  The day’s worries pulled on my lids like ten-pound weights. With so much happening I’d lost count: the murder, suspicion on Jess, a killer at large, and now, Little Blue’s fate.

  Stacy had ushered us from the dining room to Ron’s cozy living room. We sank into comfy sofas and classy wingback chairs. The pile of empty plates scraped clean were only a memory as was Tilly’s mint chocolate chip ice cream cake—cold, sweet, and delicious—when Ron cracked open a bottle of his peach after-dinner wine. The thick fruity liquid went down more like a second dessert than a drink, and my eyelids grew heavier with each sip. I sank deeper into the soft sofa, letting it wrap around me. If we stayed much longer, I might just curl up and take a quick nap.

  One by one, the guests trickled out, and Ron, a dutiful host, said goodbye to Jess. He helped her carry a sleepy Izzy out to the car. I heard the reluctance in his voice when he bid them a safe drive home. They were the last to leave after Stacy and the other members of the birding group all made early exits, leaving Tilly, Hitch, and me to finish up our peach liqueur. I caught Tilly’s eye and nodded toward the door. As far as I was concerned, it was time for us to skedaddle, too.

  She held up a finger and shook her head. Great. I knew exactly what that meant and slumped back on the couch, silently saying goodbye to an early bedtime. Something had Tilly running on adrenaline. Whatever it was might take longer than reading several chapters of my favorite mystery, so I settled in to wait.

  The front door clicked shut. Ron returned to the living room, his shoulders slumped like he’d aged twenty years. Deep lines etched the corner of his mouth from this excruciatingly long and difficult day. It was a bad one for all of us, but especially for him.

  Tilly pounced. She literally jumped off the chair when Ron entered, like her secret had given her a big shove in the behind.

  “Ron, guess who I caught trying to break into your bird room?” she said, catching him by surprise.

  “Break in? What are you talking about?” He sat down and stretched out his legs, letting out a weary sigh.

  “Well,” she said after she’d plopped down on the cushion next to him. “I started out on the walk, but something just didn’t feel right to me, so I went back to your house to check on Little Blue. It’s a good thing I did, too. Stacy, who should have been keeping an eye on Lana, was outside the kitchen door enjoying a cigarette.”

  Tilly waved her hand in front of her face like she could still smell the offending odor. “Ron, she might keep your house spotless and make a killer beef stew, but she is not someone you can rely on to keep tabs on the comings and goings in your house.”<
br />
  “I never employed her to be my spy, Tilly.” Ron’s normally calm demeanor was filled with an undertone of tired annoyance. “Her meals are always well-seasoned and creative. She cleans meticulously, and she looks ahead for things I need done before I’m even aware there’s a problem. That’s what I count on Stacy for and she never disappoints me. Of course, she’s entitled to take a break. Even her smoking, which I’m not fond of, is an outside habit. She’s not perfect.” He pointedly looked at Tilly. “None of us are.”

  Wow, what a stinging rebuke. I thought Tilly might get the hint and quiet down, but no, she leaned closer to Ron and said, “Okay, maybe I overestimated Stacy’s responsibilities. That’s not the problem. What has me worried is Lana. She had her greedy hands on the bird room’s door, jiggling and tugging, and trying to sneak in while the rest of us went for a walk. I caught her red-handed, Ron. Do you think she’s planning to steal Little Blue?”

  Ron sat forward and held up his hand like a traffic monitor at a school crossing. “Slow down, Tilly. There’s no evidence that anyone is after Little Blue.”

  Tilly strained forward, her crisp safari khaki crinkling in the suddenly quiet room. “But—”

  “No, buts about it, Tilly,” Ron said quite forcefully. “You brought the issue to my attention, and I gave it careful consideration, but with all my security, it’s impossible.”

  Tilly shrank, deflated like a popped balloon.

  “Ron?” I asked, stifling a yawn, but more awake now after Tilly’s interrogation. “Why do you have Andy’s knapsack?”

  His eyes shot open wide for a second but recovered in a flash. I’d definitely hit a nerve. Tilly sat up a little straighter, too, and Hitch cocked his head in my direction. The stage was mine.

  “What are you talking about?” Ron asked. He fiddled with his watch and shifted uncomfortably.

  A surge of adrenaline pushed every yawn away. “Andy’s knapsack,” I repeated. “It was tucked off to one side outside the barn when Ruby and I came back looking for Whisker Puff this morning. I didn’t think anything about it then, but I sure as heck didn’t expect to see it in your locked, secure bird room. It’s evidence. The police should have it.”