The Chocolate Moose Motive: A Chocoholic Mystery

by JoAnna Carl

  Ace and I ignored the newcomers and walked briskly down the road toward the Reagans’ place. We didn’t run until we got to their drive.

  I was glad to see that Nosy and Rosy’s truck wasn’t parked in their drive. Nosy was bound to want to get his pistol, and the whole thing would go better, or I thought it would, if we didn’t have an amateur gunman mixing in. And I couldn’t imagine Rosy not getting out his gun if he knew there was a hostage standoff next door.

  If there was going to be a hostage standoff. After all, we didn’t know for sure.

  I led Ace around the double-wide and back to the garage and workshop. It was still easy to find the path, even though the light was beginning to fail. Nosy and Rosy’s property was even more thickly wooded than Moose Lodge, and things were getting murky as the sun kept on going down.

  “I wish I’d thought to get a flashlight from the truck,” I said.

  Ace promptly pulled a flashlight from the pocket of his Windbreaker.

  “You’re a regular Boy Scout,” I said.

  I led the way. For once I was glad that TenHuis Chocolade encouraged its sales and business office employees to wear chocolate brown shirts, khakis, and tennis shoes. At least I wasn’t trotting down a forest path in high heels, and I was wearing inconspicuous colors.

  We passed the junk pile and kept on. “Aren’t we headed in the wrong direction?” Ace said.

  “We’ll hit a fork soon.”

  We came to the fence that marked the Moose Lodge property line. When we reached the fork in the path and swung back toward the south, Ace gave a grunt of satisfaction.

  “Slow down now,” I whispered. “We’re close to the house.”

  The big metal shop building loomed up in the twilight. Ace and I crept to its corner and peeked around it. The yellow rental car was sitting in the gravel parking lot in front of the shop.

  I wasn’t happy to see it. I guess I’d still had some hope that Joe and I had imagined the whole situation.

  The shop’s windows were dark. The smaller house—the one where Sissy and Buzz had lived—was off to the right. Joe’s truck was parked beside it. That house also looked completely deserted, its windows dark.

  But light poured from Wildflower’s house. Obviously every light was on in the central room—the combined kitchen, dining room, and living room—and just as obviously no window had a shade or curtain. And there were windows on three sides of the big room, so it was illuminating quite a bit of the outside.

  How were we going to get a look in that big room? If we looked in those windows, the people inside could easily see us.

  I took a step toward the main building, but Ace grabbed my arm. He whispered in my ear. “Go back now.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. I shook my head.

  “Yes,” he said. “Go back!”

  “No!” I mouthed the word.

  “You don’t even have a weapon.” He pulled out a pistol.

  I gave him what I hoped was a scathing look and whispered again. “If you shoot the wrong person, I won’t need a weapon. I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

  I shook his hand off my arm and ran forward on tiptoes. I managed to skirt the gravel parking area and to avoid snapping any twigs, so I was able to move quietly. I got to the house and stood with my back to the wall. Then I sidled along until I was beside one of the windows. Thanks to the mild evening and Wildflower’s belief in fresh air, the window was cracked open.

  Peeking in at the corner, I saw that there was a high-backed chair in front of the window, an old-fashioned rocking chair with a heavy board at the top. Good, it would shield me from whoever was inside the window.

  I heard Chip’s voice; it sounded as if he were right beside me. And I realized he was. He was sitting in the chair. By some enormous piece of luck, I’d come up behind him.

  “Let’s go over it one more time,” he said. “Buzz told me you have secret hiding places at Moose Lodge. And he used one of them to hide something I sent him. Now I’ve got to find it. If you help me, I’ll be out of here in a flash.”

  Sissy spoke. “Chip, I think Buzz would have told me if he hid something. I mean, I might have stumbled over it and thrown it out or something. I don’t believe he did that.”

  “I believe he did, Sissy.”

  “We could look, I suppose.” This was Wildflower’s voice. “The only place I can think of is the rock in the fireplace. I haven’t looked in there in years.”

  “Well, let’s look now.” Chip’s voice wasn’t friendly.

  The rocking chair moved vigorously, and I ducked. Chip had stood up. I could see part of the room. Sissy was sitting in the other rocking chair—the twiggy one. She was rocking Johnny, and he seemed to be asleep. Wildflower and Chip were kneeling by the fireplace. Wildflower pulled a stone from the hearth. Chip eagerly looked in the hole it uncovered.

  Then he swore. “Not there! But that place wouldn’t hide a stash from the cops.”

  “What makes you think we ever wanted to do that?”

  “Oh, come on, Ms. Hippie! Where else can we look?”

  “I suppose you’ve looked places like the backs of the commodes or in the sugar canister.”

  “Do you think I’m an idiot? Of course I looked in the obvious places. This is one of your hippie-dippie trickie deals! Where! Where!”

  Sissy spoke sharply. “Quit yelling at my grandmother, Chip! If you were so eager to find this mysterious object, you shouldn’t have shot Buzz!”

  “Believe me—I didn’t mean to!”

  That exchange chilled me clean down to every bone I owned. Chip had tried to make it sound as if he wanted cooperation in finding the object Buzz had hidden. But now he had admitted to killing Buzz.

  But Chip was still talking. “I didn’t want to hurt anybody! Especially not Buzz! But the jerk never went anywhere. He just stayed around here. So did your grandmother. I couldn’t get onto the property to look for my stuff. Finally—finally—I thought I saw you and your grandmother leave, and then the other car left. I thought the place was deserted.”

  Chip sounded disheartened. He was being much too frank. I feared that meant he would have to kill Wildflower and Sissy.

  That scared me. But it didn’t scare me as much as something else did.

  Where was Joe?

  And where was Ace?

  I ducked down and looked around. No one was in sight.

  Just me. Actually, I wasn’t worried about Ace. First, we had no emotional connection. Second, he had a pistol, and he could take care of himself.

  Joe can take care of himself, too—usually. But I doubted his claim to be bulletproof. Where could he be? It was useless to look for him. He didn’t seem to be in the room with Wildflower, Sissy, and Chip, but there were a million bushes and trees on the Moose Lodge property, and Joe could be under or behind any of them.

  Actually, I didn’t expect him to be under or behind anything. He was much more likely to be in the thick of things.

  But regardless of where Joe was, I knew where I was. I was on my own. I could find my way back to the path over to Nosy and Rosy’s house—there was just about enough light left for me to get there. That was the sensible thing to do. It was the thing both Joe and Hogan would want me to do.

  But I just couldn’t do it. I’m always convinced no one can manage unless I stick my nose into any situation.

  I peeked in the window again, and I heard Sissy. “Look—Johnny’s getting heavy. He’s sound asleep. Let me take him into his room and put him in his crib. Then I can help look.”

  Chip looked unconvinced, and Sissy spoke again. “I know you don’t want to hurt Johnny, Chip. Let me put him in a safe place.”

  “Okay. But we all three stick together.”

  “Fine.” Sissy’s voice was calm and controlled.

  Aha! So they were going into the bedroom end of the house. All three—Chip, Sissy, and Wildflower.

  That meant the kitchen end would be deserted, including that mudroom near the back door. I
could slip in and hide in there.

  If I wanted to. Did I? I could hear everything from there, and I could see a lot, but no one could see me.

  It would sure put me in a good position for joining the party. It might also put me in a good position for getting killed.

  But hanging around outside didn’t put me in any position at all. I might be able to tell Hogan what happened after I’d witnessed it, but I sure wasn’t going to influence matters.

  All this analysis takes longer to describe than it took for it to race through my head. Sissy, Wildflower, and Chip had barely disappeared into the bedroom hall when I was at the back door.

  As I expected, given what Wildflower had said about her door-locking habits, the door was not locked. I eased it open, trying not to even allow the lock to click. And I was in the mudroom. It was dark. Feeling carefully to make sure I didn’t kick a minnow bucket or knock down a snow shovel, I edged into the room—actually nothing but a big closet.

  I stood there silently, and I began to be aware of my surroundings.

  Breathing. I could hear breathing. Coffee. I could smell coffee breath.

  I wasn’t alone. Someone else was in the closet with me.

  Before I could fling the door open and leap out, a strong arm flung around my shoulders, and a strong hand clamped over my mouth.

  Chapter 23

  It’s hard to yell in a whisper, but the person holding me managed. “Lee! Lee!”

  I had found Joe.

  “Lee? Can I let you go?”

  I nodded. And Joe slowly loosened his grip.

  I whispered. “Yeech, Joe. I won’t need a heart checkup this year.”

  He whispered back. “I couldn’t take a chance on your bumping into me in the dark. I’m sorry if I startled you.”

  “Startled is not a strong enough word. What are you doing in here?”

  “Trying to figure out what’s going on and see if I can get the jump on Chip. What are you doing here?”

  “Same thing you are, only I hadn’t thought as far as attacking Chip. Hogan’s gathering his forces at the road. They ought to be here with a bullhorn any minute.”

  “Great. Then we’ll have to come out with our hands up or get shot.”

  “Ace is wandering around with a pistol, too.”

  “Super.” Only Joe can sound sarcastic in a whisper.

  “Maybe we should sneak out the back way and take the path over to the Reagans’.”

  “Maybe you should. But I can’t leave Wildflower and Sissy here.”

  “Mr. Chivalry.”

  “Do you want me to leave them?”

  “I guess not. But it might be smarter to let Hogan handle the situation under proper hostage negotiation rules.”

  “You can slip out the back and tell Hogan what the situation is.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  We hadn’t raised our voices, but we sure had reached an impasse. But that never lasts long with Joe. He’s the original man of action—and ideas.

  “Okay,” he said. “As long as you’re here. You sneak out the back. When you’re outside, I’ll crawl into the kitchen and hide behind the counter. You go around the house and pound on the front door. Chip looks at you, and I grab him from behind.”

  “An alternative plan is that we stay here until Hogan and the gang arrive.”

  At that moment Wildflower came back down the bedroom hall, followed closely by Sissy and Chip.

  Everything still looked calm, but there was one change. Chip was holding a pistol.

  “Okay!” he said. “Now Johnny’s settled, so you can concentrate on my problem. Where did Buzz hide the papers? I’ve got to know, and I’ve got to know now!”

  He grabbed Wildflower and pushed her over in front of the fireplace. Then he raised the pistol and pointed it at her. “Sissy! You don’t have to worry about Johnny. So you’d better worry about your grandmother.”

  “No!” Sissy sounded stricken. “Chip, she doesn’t know or care about some old letters you wrote.”

  Chip stared at her, but he kept the gun pointed at Wildflower.

  Joe whispered. “That rips it. Chip hadn’t said they were letters.”

  “Oh,” Chip said, “so you do know about them.”

  “I don’t know!”

  “Buzz told you.”

  “No, Chip. He didn’t tell me anything. But the only contact the two of you had was by mail. You used to gripe about it. If Buzz had your papers, it had to be letters.”

  “Don’t tell him anything,” Wildflower said calmly. “If Chip finds whatever he’s looking for, he’ll kill us both.”

  “No!” Chip yelled the word. “I don’t want to hurt anybody. I just want my papers! Okay, my letters.”

  “We can’t wait,” Joe said. “Slip out and go around to the front door.” He grabbed my arm. “Then duck away from the door. There’s always the chance he’ll shoot at it. God, I hate this, but we’ve got to do something!”

  I didn’t have any alternate plan, but I sure hated for Joe to attack a guy younger than he was and trained in hand-to-hand combat. I took a deep breath and got ready to go out that back door.

  But Joe’s desperate whisper may have been a prayer, because a miracle happened.

  The British play a kind of hide-and-seek they call “sardines.” When they find the player who’s “it,” each seeker joins him in his hiding place. This leads to a half dozen or so people crammed into one hiding place.

  Joe’s plea seemed to have kicked off a game of sardines.

  The back door opened, and Ace walked in. He ignored Joe and me. He simply stood there, not two feet from us, and looked through the kitchen and into the living room for at least a minute.

  Looking back, I’m sure he had no idea we were even there. And Joe and I were so surprised that we both stood absolutely still. In a mad way, I wanted to laugh. It was like a theatrical farce.

  It was just darn lucky Ace didn’t turn around, because he probably would have been so surprised to see us that he would have shot us both.

  Chip was still yelling at Sissy. “Tell me! Tell me! I’ve got to have those papers!”

  Sissy yelled back. “We don’t have them!”

  “I know there are hiding places in this house!”

  “That’s crazy!”

  “Tell me!” Chip stepped close to Wildflower and aimed the pistol at her head. “Tell me!”

  That was when Ace moved.

  “Chip!” He snapped out the word. Then he strode through the kitchen in three or four paces and went on into the living room. He was holding his own pistol, but it was down by his side.

  “Chip, put that pistol down,” he said. “Stop acting like an idiot!”

  Chip whirled to meet him. “Ace! Where did you come from?”

  “I came in the back door. You didn’t even secure your perimeter. Plus, every state cop in Michigan is out there at the road, and they’ll be down here to take you out any minute.”

  “State cops!”

  “Yes. State cops. So put the pistol down and go quietly.”

  “But, Ace, I did all this to protect you!”

  “Did I need your help?”

  “Oh, I admit it was my fault. I sent a copy of that stupid report to Buzz. It never occurred to me that he’d use it in his novel!”

  “You should never have sent it in the first place.”

  “Ace, it was horrible over there. Buzz couldn’t take it and came home. I was the one who toughed it out. But I needed someone to talk to; it was the only thing that helped.”

  “Talk is one thing. Stealing that report is another.”

  “I just wanted Buzz to see what we were up against. And I was trying to get it back!”

  “You didn’t have to kill my son to get it.”

  “He was a traitor to you, Ace!”

  “Maybe I was a traitor to him. Put the gun down.”

  “I thought I was doing the right thing! What you wanted me to do!”

  “Put the gun d
own.”

  “No! I’ll use it!” Chip raised his pistol and pointed it at Ace. “Should I use it on you?”

  He swung the gun around toward himself. “Or on me?”

  “Put it down!” Ace roared the command.

  Chip hesitated, still pointing the gun toward himself.

  Behind him, Wildflower gave a disgusted grunt. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” she said. “Cut the cackle!”

  Chip kept looking at Ace. He couldn’t see her as, in one smooth motion, she grabbed the fireplace poker, swung it, and hit him in the back of the head.

  Chip fell, but only to his knees; then he dropped his pistol.

  Joe and I ran forward, but Ace didn’t move.

  He simply stood and watched as I scooped up Chip’s pistol, and Joe clamped a hammerlock on the stunned man.

  Ace lowered his gun to his side, then continued to stand there stoically as I pulled out my cell phone and called Hogan.

  “Well, Gran,” Sissy said, “you sure picked the right time to forget about nonviolence.”

  The next hour was wild, of course. All kinds of law officers poured in. Even Burt Ramsey was there. He ate crow over Chip’s confession—with four witnesses—to killing Buzz, then Helen Ferguson. He wasn’t very gracious about it.

  After Chip had been taken away, Hogan spoke firmly to Sissy and Ace. “We could have avoided all this excitement if you two had told me Chip was guilty this afternoon, when you realized where Buzz’s gun came from.”

  “But I wasn’t sure,” Sissy said. “I knew Buzz had taken his pistol back to Ace’s house, because Gran didn’t want firearms at Moose Lodge. But after Buzz was killed, nobody ever asked us about it. The investigators just asked if there were any guns on the premises. The fact that Buzz used to have a gun didn’t cross my mind, much less that it had been used to kill him. Then this afternoon, it fell out of my glove compartment. Of course, I remembered it had been at Ace’s house, which meant that Chip was the logical person to have access to it.”

  “I had access to it, too,” Ace said.

  “I never suspected you, Ace,” Sissy said. “I was awfully angry with you—in some ways I still am—but I never doubted that you loved Buzz. In your own way. No, the other person I suspected was Helen Ferguson.”