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

by Cora Wilkins

  “Did it ever occur to you that he was shocked?” I said. “Maybe that’s why he moved to York to retire. Maybe he wanted to get to know his daughter, but he wasn’t sure how to approach you about it.”

  She sneered. “Too late. He had his chance. And now I can contest his will and get some of his money, as soon as I prove that he was my father.”

  I didn’t bother telling her how utterly ridiculous her plan was. Even if she managed to dispose of me, the police would begin to suspect her the minute she claimed to be Mr. Frobisher’s long lost daughter and demanded a cut of his fortune. Like Kaye had said, money was a huge motive in a lot of crimes, and the police would have to realize how easy it was to set someone like Chris up.

  It hadn’t even occurred to me before now, but she’d been in the shop when Mr. Frobisher had told me about his allergies. She’d been somewhere out the back, but she could have easily overheard. She must have slipped the red food dye into the mixture while I was making it and had my back turned for a few seconds. Like Ted had said, the mixture was so dark brown that a few drops of red food dye wouldn’t be noticeable. She must have also staged the Sweet Shoppe break-in to avoid suspicion, and possibly even planted the rose petal to implicate Mrs. Barnaby.

  She must have also slipped the bag of fudge with the telltale smear of red into Chris’ laptop bag, trying to implicate even more suspects to draw any attention away from her. The more suspects, the better.

  I had to admit, it was rather conniving, and she’d probably been very happy to discover that Chris had a negative history with Mr. Frobisher. He was the perfect scapegoat, and when he’d been charged, she probably thought she’d gotten away with it all.

  “How did you get rid of his epi-pen?” I asked, trying to stall for time.

  “That wasn’t easy, but I managed,” she said. “I pretended to accidentally bump right into him and almost fall over at the festival, and I slipped it out of his shirt pocket while I was clutching at his chest for support. He didn’t even notice. I figured he’d probably carry one on him at all times, and I didn’t want him to have any chance.”

  She drew closer to me with the knife, and my heart raced in my ribcage like the wings of a trapped bird. I heard the slow creep of footsteps outside, and before Rosie and I could even react, Kaye and Daniel entered the kitchen. Kaye was brandishing a large coffee mug, and she smashed it into the back of Rosie’s head. As Rosie screamed in pain, she dropped the knife, and Daniel grabbed her arms and held her in his strong grip. She didn’t even try to struggle. She was caught, and she knew it.

  “Sorry for hurting your head, Rosie,” Kaye said, glaring at her. “But I couldn’t let you hurt my best friend, could I?”

  “How did you know?” I gasped.

  “I forgot my handbag,” she replied. “We came back to get it, and we heard you two in here. We heard everything you were saying.”

  “Thank God you did….” I said, my voice trailing off. I hated to imagine what might have happened if they hadn’t come in here to rescue me.

  The police arrived moments after we called them, and two young officers hauled Rosie away. Deputy Ted took our statements, and he reached across and patted me on the shoulder.

  “Chris will be freed soon,” he said. “I’m sorry we didn’t listen to you, Anne.”

  “It’s all right,” I said. “Anyone else would have done the same thing. Chris really did look suspicious with all the evidence against him.”

  “Well, we should have investigated things more carefully,” he replied. “A secret love child, though…I never saw that coming.”

  The next few days were a whirlwind. The media had gotten wind of the case, and there were flashing cameras and reporters everywhere outside the store, all hoping to catch a glimpse of the amateur sleuths who’d thwarted Mr. Frobisher’s killer. Chris had been released from custody, and he had me to lean on after the harrowing ordeal he’d gone through.

  Right now we were sitting behind the counter watching Kaye serve fudge and candies to the reporters outside. We were making an absolute killing with all the business we were getting now as a result of the high-profile case. Hmm…perhaps ‘killing’ wasn’t the most appropriate term to use. Making a fortune, rather.

  “I hope this whole debacle hasn’t put you off visiting me here,” I said, rubbing his arm as I looked at him.

  He smiled ruefully and ruffled my hair. “No, believe it or not. I like you too much. Hopefully I won’t be accused of murder again anytime soon, though!”

  My stomach flip-flopped around, but not in a nervous way. I’d finally met someone worth dating, and he’d made it very clear he was committed to seeing me and only me. It was exactly what I’d always dreamed of, along with owning a successful shop of my own in my hometown.

  Mr. Frobisher’s funeral had been the day before, and Kaye, Daniel, Chris and I had all attended along with half the town. When everyone else was gone, I’d stayed by the gravestone and left a bouquet of flowers before sitting there for a while in quiet contemplation. I hadn’t known Mr. Frobisher very long, but he’d affected all of our lives. I’d met his son at the service, and he’d thanked me profusely for helping to find his father’s killer. He also said he wanted to set up a meeting with me soon to discuss me selling my fudge to his company, just like his father had promised me. So thanks to Mr. Frobisher, my business was going to be even busier and more successful than ever before. He might not have been a universally-liked man, but he was still worth knowing.

  Mrs. Barnaby had been devastated when she’d realized it had all been a misunderstanding about Mr. Frobisher supposedly having an affair. Apparently he had tried to write her a letter explaining everything after their public tiff, but she’d been so angry at him that she threw it in the bin unopened. I’d heard her neighbor had stepped up to comfort her. Apparently he’d always had a bit of a crush on her, so perhaps they’d end up together one day. Only time would tell.

  Speaking of time, Rosie received a twenty-five year to life sentence in prison, but the likelihood of her ever getting parole was slim after what she’d done. The saddest part of the case was that Mr. Frobisher had moved to York to try and get to know his daughter, just as I’d suspected. Rosie’s mother had called him a few months ago to finally tell him of her existence in the hopes that he’d help pay for Rosie’s college tuition, and he had decided to retire early and move to the town. He hadn’t wanted to just spring it on Rosie, so he’d decided to wait a while before telling her. Unfortunately, as we all knew now, Rosie had figured it out, gone crazy and killed him.

  As summer ended, the Sweet Shoppe continued to serve a slew of customers every day, and we’d hired some new staff to help us out. York was still abuzz over the whole murder, and I doubted it would die down anytime soon. Nothing like this had ever occurred here, and I hoped to high heaven that it wouldn’t ever again.

  No, scratch that. I didn’t need to hope. Aside from this one isolated incident, York was a safe place, and nothing like this would ever happen again…right?

  ***

  THE END