Death By Chocolate: A Cozy Mystery (Sweet Shoppe Mysteries - Book 1)

by Cora Wilkins

  “What happened?”

  “Well, the court denied his petition to marry the tree, but the neighbor ended up relenting and agreeing to not touch the overhanging branches. So it all ended rather happily.”

  “I bet you’ve seen a lot of not-so-happy stuff too, though,” he remarked before taking a sip of his drink.

  “Yeah. Well, you live there, so you know what it’s like to be in a big city. So much crime and violence compared to a place like this. That was one of the reasons I left. I just got so tired of seeing the same awful things all the time.”

  “I know what you mean. Sometimes I’d really just like to move to a smaller town. Much less danger.”

  I smiled at him, wondering if he was dropping a hint about possibly moving to somewhere like York one day. “Yes, well, here in our town the crime rate is practically zero. Nothing bad ever really happens here, speaking in terms of crime, and I doubt it ever will.”

  “I’ll bet. Cheers to York and its safety. May nothing bad ever happen here!”

  He held up his glass, and I toasted him before having a mouthful of wine. Just as I placed my glass back on the table, a familiar face caught my attention as he walked past our table on his way out of Chez Pierre. It was the local church reverend.

  “Anne! Nice to see you,” he said, stopping to say hello.

  “Reverend Barker!” I replied, warmly greeting the older man. “This is my friend, Chris. Chris, this is our church reverend.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Reverend Barker said, firmly shaking Chris’ hand before turning his attention back to me. “I must apologize, Anne. I’ve been so busy lately that I completely forgot to send you a thank you note for the beef and red wine stew you made for the potluck dinner the other week.”

  I waved my hand. “Oh, it’s fine. I was happy to help.”

  “A lot of the other ladies were asking for the recipe,” he said. “Definitely a crowd-pleaser.”

  “Well, I’d be happy to write it down for you,” I replied. “It was my mother’s recipe, and you remember her - she always said ‘sharing is caring’. I’ll write it all down when I get home tonight, and you can come and collect it from the candy store, if you’d like.”

  “Sounds splendid,” he said. “That’s very nice of…”

  Reverend Barker was cut off mid-sentence by yet another familiar face appearing at our table; Mr. Frobisher. One of the only perils of living in a small town was that no matter where you were, you’d always run into at least five people you knew.

  “Anne, sorry to interrupt. I was hoping to run into you soon,” he said. “I’ve called my son about your fudge, and he’s very keen to meet you. He’s going to call you next month sometime when things aren’t so busy. I gave him the number of the Sweet Shoppe. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Wow, thank you,” I replied. “That’s really very lovely of you. And no, of course I don’t mind.”

  “Great. Anyway, I don’t want to keep you from your conversation,” he said, nodding at Chris and Reverend Barker. “Gentlemen. Enjoy your evening.”

  Chris and Reverend Barker both nodded stiffly and said goodnight, and Mr. Frobisher strode away to a table at the back of the restaurant, where Mrs. Lilley sat looking all gussied up. Mrs. Barnaby had been right. Mr. Frobisher and Mrs. Lilley really must have been having an affair. To think that they were doing it in public, too! It was scandalous. But in the end, it wasn’t my business to say anything. Perhaps there was more to the story than I knew.

  I couldn’t help but detect a hint of frostiness in the air, and I raised my eyebrows. Reverend Barker noticed my expression and sighed.

  “That man…I can’t help but think he’s trouble for our town,” he remarked.

  “How so?”

  “Well, he’s quite a godless man, so to speak. Now, you know what I’m like; I would never push my beliefs on anyone. But Miss Mayberry at the drycleaners told me that she’d overheard something about him. Not long after he arrived in town, he was apparently down at the pub and got into a conversation with some young men. Apparently they had quite the heated debate about faith, religion and atheism. Anyway, he must have been quite convincing, because none of those men have showed up at church for the last two weeks. I called by their houses to chat to them about it, and they all said they’d begun to question their faith after talking to him.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Reverend,” I said.

  “Yes, well, like I said, I’d never force anyone to attend church, but it does sadden me that the younger generation is shying away from faith so much. Church attendance has already been down for the last few years, and I’m worried it will soon dwindle to nothing.”

  I smiled up at him. “Now, now, Reverend. I’m sure that won’t happen.”

  He nodded and returned my smile. “Oh, you’re right…I’m sure things will turn out just fine. Anyway, I don’t want to keep you any longer. I’ll come by your shop and collect that recipe tomorrow. Perhaps I’ll put it in the next church newsletter?”

  “Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I replied.

  “Chris, it was wonderful to meet you. Sorry for occupying so much of Anne’s attention. Have a lovely evening, both of you,” he said.

  We waved our goodbyes as he headed out of the restaurant, and Chris’ forehead creased in thought. “So Mr. Frobisher isn’t too popular around here, huh?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s been awfully kind to me, but obviously some of the other townsfolk don’t appreciate him. But you know, that’s what small towns are like. Everyone knows everyone, so when someone new arrives, people usually don’t trust them at first; not until they have the new person all figured out. Once Mr. Frobisher has settled in, I’m sure he’ll be accepted and most welcome.”

  “Hmm…I’m not so sure about that.”

  Strange. The way Chris was speaking about him, it seemed like he had some personal issues with Mr. Frobisher.

  “Do you know him?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “Err…well, yes, sort of,” he replied. “But it’s really not first date conversation material. I’d hate to bore you, or worse, have you think I’m some horrible, bitter man who complains about everything.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. “You can tell me. I promise I won’t think you’re horrible.”

  “All right. Well, you know that he used to run Fudgy Frobisher’s ice creamery?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Well, Candyland used to be the wholesaler where they bought all the confectionery bits they used in various flavors of ice cream. A few years ago, they placed a massive order like they usually did, and I had it all ready for them. I went to see Mr. Frobisher at his office to sign some of the new contracts, and suddenly he told me that he wanted me to cut my prices. He said he’d found someone cheaper, and he’d only stay with me if I matched their prices. If not, he was canceling the order.”

  “What happened then?”

  “Well, I could hardly say no. I’d already had all the confectionery made and boxed up, and some of those things can’t sit around for too long, especially the marshmallows. So if he wasn’t going to buy them, then they’d just sit there in the warehouse and go off. Huge waste of money. So I said yes and dropped the prices, just so we’d at least make something out of the whole debacle. It was very sneaky of him, so the next time Fudgy Frobisher’s called up to place an order, I said no and told them to go with their other option.”

  “You must have been angry,” I said, reaching across and putting my hand over his. “You’re right, that was pretty sneaky of him. Was it a particularly large financial loss?”

  “Oh, it wasn’t enormous,” he replied. “It wasn’t anything like say, a million dollars. But it was still enough to make me not trust the man or ever want to do business with him again.”

  “I see,” I said, my head whirling. The more I heard about Mr. Frobisher, the more I wondered if he really was the nice person he presented himself as. In just three days, I’d heard t
hree separate people tell me not-so-nice tales about him, and it was only a matter of time before Mrs. Lilley’s husband became the fourth person to dislike him, judging by how public he and Mrs. Lilley were making their affair.

  Chris and I spent the next few hours chatting and getting to know more about each other. I discovered that he’d been married once before, but that had ended seven years ago. Since then, he’d focused on building his company to be bigger than ever before, but he was still humble about his success. All in all, he was a lovely man, and before I knew it Chez Pierre was closing.

  “Wow,” I said, glancing at my watch. “We’ve been here all night!”

  He grinned. “I suppose I better get you home before they turn the lights out and lock us in here.”

  He dropped me back at my doorstep, and like the perfect gentleman he was, he didn’t even try to come inside and pressure me for anything more. There were a few decent men left in the world after all!

  “Well,” he said as we said goodnight. “I had a great time. I hope you did too.”

  I nodded. “I certainly did. Thank you for dinner, and thank you for inviting me out.”

  “I’d really love to see you again sometime. Hopefully sooner rather than later, if that’s not too presumptuous.”

  “Well, the Midsummer festival is on this weekend. If you aren’t too busy with work, maybe you could drop by? I have my own booth for the candy store.”

  “Sure, I’d love to. I’ve got a few clients in some of the neighboring towns to visit soon, so I’m going to be in the area anyway. I’ll give you a call tomorrow night and let you know if I’m coming on Saturday or Sunday.”

  With that, he leaned down and gave me a polite peck on the cheek before heading back to his car, and I touched my finger to my face where his warm lips had just been. It had truly been a perfect night with a perfect ending, and even better, we were going to see each other again. I went inside with a spring in my step, and I slept like a baby.

  ***

  Unfortunately, I slept a little too much like a baby. I completely missed my alarm the following morning, and by the time I was awake, showered and dressed for the day it was already ten-thirty. It didn’t matter too much; Rosie and Kaye both had keys to the Sweet Shoppe, and they would have opened without me. It just meant I was going to face an inquisition when I finally arrived.

  “Well, well, look who decided to show up!” Kaye said, giving me a knowing smile as I swept through the door.

  “Hi, Anne. We opened up for you,” Rosie chimed in. “Did you oversleep?”

  “She had a hot date last night,” Kaye said. “So I doubt she did much sleeping.”

  “Oh, hush,” I said, rolling my eyes in her direction. “We had dinner, and that was it. Don’t be so crude.”

  Kaye stuck her tongue out at me, and I grinned at her. Sometimes it was hard to believe we were actually fully-grown adults with the way we behaved sometimes. I’d waited for decades to feel all grown up, but I’d slowly come to realize that no one ever just becomes an adult at any certain age. Most of us were still young at heart despite all the new responsibilities that came with getting older.

  “I’ve already started packing away sweets for the festival tomorrow,” Rosie said. “I’ve also measured out all the butter and sugar for the fudge we’re making today.”

  “You’re a lifesaver, young lady,” I said, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. “Well, I’ll have a coffee and then we’ll get right to it.”

  The Midsummer festival was fast approaching, and I spent the day preparing for it as much as humanly possible. Rosie and I made trays upon trays of fudge and coconut ice while Kaye managed the storefront, and then we headed down to the park to help set everything up. The festival started first thing Saturday morning, so all the booths, chairs and tables needed to be set up now, just so it would all be done in time.

  Our booth was small yet sturdy, built with precision and painted beautifully.

  “Your cousin did such a great job on this,” I remarked, glancing at Kaye as she surveyed it. “Remind me to send him a gift and a thank you note.”

  “Well, I did promise him free fudge for the rest of his life in return for building it,” she said. “No, I’m kidding…I promised him free fudge for a month. That man can eat.”

  I smiled and looked around, watching all the other vendors setting up their booths. It was looking like this would be the biggest Midsummer festival York had ever had, and the weather forecast said it was going to be sunny without a cloud in the sky on both Saturday and Sunday. It was going to be perfect.

  ***

  By midday on Sunday, I was exhausted but happy. Yesterday had been incredible; we’d had a steady stream of customers from the moment the festival started, and today was shaping up to be the same. I was beginning to wonder how many sweets people could fit in them without exploding. Some were coming back not just for seconds, but for thirds and fourths!

  A young woman from the local gazette was taking pictures and asking questions about our store, and just as I finished answering them I heard a familiar masculine voice behind me.

  “I hear this is the place to get sweets. I also hear the booth is run by a very beautiful woman.”

  I turned to see Chris standing there. “Where’s this beautiful woman you heard about?” I asked, raising my eyebrows and looking around. “Sorry, it’s just me here right now…Kaye and Rosie went back to the shop to get extra sweets.”

  He grinned. “Silly. You know I was talking about you. How’s everything going?”

  “Great. Everyone’s chasing their sweet tooth this year. Although at the rate they’re eating it, I’ll be surprised if anyone even has any teeth left by the end of the weekend.”

  He chuckled and slid in behind the booth. “Need a hand?”

  “I suppose I could use you for a while,” I teased, returning his grin. “Feel free to eat anything you want in return.”

  “What do you want me to do first?”

  “Hmm…we’re about to run out of wrapped fudge. I didn’t have time to wrap it all earlier. It’s all down here. Could you do that?” I asked, pointing to a spare tray of fudge.

  “Sure.”

  He knelt down to the built-in shelf behind the booth and busied himself wrapping fudge chunks into cellophane wrappers, and then he helped me serve customers for the next hour. It was a lot of fun working with him, and his ocean-blue eyes and handsome features certainly helped attract a fair share of female customers.

  Kaye appeared a moment later, panting as she carried two more trays of fudge. “Rosie and I just got these out of the fridge,” she said. “I figured we’d need more. They’re eating it up today…literally!”

  Rosie trailed behind her, and her eyebrows shot up as she looked to the right and saw Mr. Frobisher with Mr. Lilley, not far from the hot dog stand across from our booth.

  “Oh no,” she said. “I think something’s about to happen.”

  Mr. Frobisher was towering over Mr. Lilley, and the two men glared at each other.

  “You damn well better stay away from my wife,” Mr. Lilley said, his face red. “I don’t know what your game is, but it stops now!”

  “Perhaps if you actually spoke to your wife for once, you’d understand why we’ve been seeing each other,” Mr. Frobisher replied, an enigmatic smile turning up the corners of his lips.

  “Oh, don’t give me that load of bull. I have spoken to her!”

  Reverend Barker marched up to the two men and stepped in between them. “Gentlemen, come on. This is supposed to be a nice day. What sort of example do you think you’re setting for the children? Perhaps you could sort out your issues in private.”

  Mr. Frobisher nodded curtly. “As I told Mr. Lilley, he can talk to his wife about it. I’ll be off now.”

  He began to stride away, but then he saw our booth and headed over.

  “I gather you all saw that,” he said, green eyes still flashing with a hint of anger.

  “Oh, no, we’re
far too busy to notice anything,” Kaye replied, trying to be polite. “Now, Anne tells me you love double choc fudge. Would you like some?”

  “Yes, I’d love some,” he replied, finally mustering up a smile. Despite whatever negative things he’d been doing, I did feel a little sorry for the man. He’d moved to York hoping to spend the rest of his life here, and already that was going south.

  Kaye sliced a sizable chunk of fudge for him, and he handed over ten dollars.

  “Keep the change. It’s worth it,” he said before taking a bite. “Mmm….heavenly as usual. Well, I guess I better get out of here before I cause another ruckus.”

  He waved and strode away, and he hadn’t made it more than twenty feet when he suddenly stopped stock-still. I noticed out of the corner of my eye and frowned, wondering why he was so rigid, and several people in the nearby crowd gasped as he began to emit guttural choking sounds. He jerked and turned to the side, and I saw that he was clutching at his throat, eyes bulging wide.

  “Oh no!” Kaye cried. “I think he’s choking!”

  She was right. He must have accidentally swallowed a large chunk of fudge without chewing it, and I dashed over to him. A burly blond man reached him before me and attempted the Heimlich maneuver to no avail, and I took a few steps back, my heart racing as I watched it all unfold. Mr. Frobisher’s face had begun to swell and turn bright red, and I wrung my hands, screaming at the gaping onlookers around me.

  “For heaven’s sake, someone call 911!”

  In my previous job, I’d heard about something called the bystander effect, where crowds of people tended to do absolutely nothing in harrowing circumstances, always thinking someone else would do it. Apparently the best way to avoid it was to give direct orders to individuals.

  “You!” I barked at a teenage girl holding a cell phone. “911, now!”

  Mr. Frobisher frantically patted at one of his pockets as if searching for something. His face was purple now, and he fell to his knees and held out one hand. One shaky finger pointed in my direction, and he muttered four words.