In Cold Chocolate

by Dorothy St. James

  “Don’t act shocked,” Florence snapped. “You and I both know you don’t have a drop of Maybank blood in those ugly veins of yours. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you lose this shop and the land it stands on. You have no right to it. No right at all.”

  Well if that’s the game she wanted to play, I no longer needed to pretend to be civil. “Get. Out.” My voice sounded airy, as if I’d just finished running halfway across the island. “You may pretend that I’m not yours, but know this: You. Will. Not. Get. My. Shop.”

  “Mabel wanted Penn to have the Chocolate Box, and by gum, she’s going to keep it,” Bertie said as came to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with me. She crossed her arms over her full chest. Bubba had crossed the room to stand next to her. And Althea stood next to him. My personal wall of support—what a blessing. Ethel cheered, “hear, hear!” from her chair. Others joined in.

  Fletcher watched with great interest from behind the counter, his expression blank as a sheet of paper.

  Florence refused to leave.

  “You’ve been visiting Cassidy Jones,” I said quietly. “That’s why I called you. That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

  Florence snapped her head back. “Don’t spout more lies.”

  “I saw you,” Ethel said and coughed. “We all saw you going into his house.”

  “Were you having an affair with him?” I asked, and then suddenly remembered how dangerous those kinds of questions were. So I said before she had a chance to answer, “Never mind. I don’t need to know why you were there. All I need to know is if you were at his house the day he died, and if you noticed anything off about him. Did you see anyone hanging around the house?”

  “You’re insane!” Florence screeched. “Certifiable. I’m going to have you locked up before this is finished!” She lifted her hand as if to strike me again.

  Bertie cleared her throat. She took a step toward Florence. “I think you’d better leave before we call Chief Byrd and have him arrest you on assault charges.”

  “Oh, I’ll go. But this isn’t the last you’ll hear about this. You won’t get away with stealing this shop away from its rightful heirs. The game is over, Charity, and it’s time for you to go crawling back to your loser life.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “That-that woman, she couldn’t answer one simple question?” I sputtered as soon as my mother had flounced out the door with her head held high looking as if she’d won whatever battle she’d come to fight. I stamped my foot on the wood floor. “If I believed in magic and curses, I’d hex her. I’d hex her so hard she’d turn into the toad her shriveled heart resembles.”

  “I could do it,” Althea was quick to volunteer her woo-woo services. Her mother sent her a sharp look. “But it’d be wrong,” she added hastily.

  “Penn, we shouldn’t be cursing her. It’s the ones with the most hatred in their hearts that we need be praying the hardest for,” Bertie said quietly. “They’re the ones who need the most redemption.”

  I heard her words and recognized the wisdom in them. But I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to forgive. I wasn’t ready to let go of the anger that burned in my chest. Florence had plucked at my emotions as a means to control me.

  Someone else in my life liked to do that. I carried the scars from a lifetime of listening to my grandmother Cristobel Penn tell me how I wasn’t good enough, pretty enough, smart enough.

  Florence wanted to deny that she was my mother? Fine. The DNA test they were now requesting would settle this madness once and for all. And then the truth would come out. I was just as much part of their family as any of them, and I had just as much claim to the shop as any of them—more so, since Mabel had picked me to carry on her legacy.

  “What was that about?” Detective Gibbons asked.

  I jumped. How long had he been standing there a step inside the door? How much of my family drama had he heard? My face must have turned all sorts of shades of red from embarrassment. My skin burned as if it’d been scalded.

  “A family dispute,” I said with a wave of my hand as if Florence’s rejection meant nothing. (Oh, how I wished her words had meant nothing.) My heart was still pounding wildly in my chest and a stinging pain started to throb in my temples. What game was that woman trying to play? Did she really think she could take away her earlier confession of being my mother? Did she really think denying our relationship would work? I closed my eyes and drew a long breath. This was a legal problem I needed to let Harley handle. I had other matters that couldn’t be ignored.

  I opened my eyes, grabbed a damp cloth from a plastic bin, and started wiping off tables. Whether they needed to be cleaned or not, it didn’t matter. “I sent you the information you needed. I don’t see why you came here instead of visiting the address in the text.”

  “Penn,” he said.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong. I simply talked with the woman who was so upset the night Cassidy died. I asked her why she was so upset.”

  “You found Muumuu Woman?” Ethel jumped out of her chair when she heard that. “Who is she?”

  “Penn,” Gibbons said, his voice a notch tighter.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” I repeated. “And I told you about it.” I turned to Ethel. “Sorry, I can’t tell you about her.” If news got out about Luella Marie’s plastic surgery meant she’d lose important movie roles, I’d take the silly actress’ secret to the grave. I hoped Althea, Lidia, and Detective Gibbons planned to do the same.

  “I’m sorry, Detective. I don’t have time to answer your questions or listen to lectures. Let me summarize what happened today.” I held up my index finger. “Lidia, Althea, and I went as a group to call on the woman who was with Cassidy on the night of his murder.” I added another finger to my tally. “She told us what she saw and who she saw.” I held up a third finger. “And I reported all of this to you immediately after leaving her house. Now, if you’d excuse me.” I had a killer to catch. If what Luella Marie had told us was true, Fletcher looked like our most likely suspect. Luella Marie saw him at the scene of the crime arguing with Cassidy. Did I need more proof than that?

  Apparently I did, because I was having a devil of a time believing him guilty of murder. The murderer couldn’t be Fletcher, the best worker I’d ever hired. As soon as I finished up with Detective Gibbons, I was going to ask him about what he was doing with Cassidy. Hopefully then I’d get the information I needed to get Jody out of jail.

  “Deal with your family crisis,” Gibbons said as he headed toward the door. “But we’re going to talk. We’re going to talk soon, and you’re going to listen to me,” he warned before he marched out the door like a man on a mission.

  I hoped the mission driving him would take him to Luella Marie’s house. If he talked with her, and really listened to what she was saying, he’d be back at the Chocolate Box within the hour to question Fletcher. I needed to move fast.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Before I had a chance to say anything to Fletcher the copper bell over the door tinkled. Bailey Grassi, looking cool and relaxed in his tan khaki shorts and white lawn cotton shirt, stepped into the shop. He took a long look around before closing the door behind him. His face was cleanly shaven. His shaggy brown hair was secured in a neat topknot on the crown of his head. His cotton button-up shirt, although worn with the shirttails hanging out, looked as if it’d been pressed. His khaki Bermuda shorts had knifepoint creases.

  He completed his survey of the shop before smiling in our direction. With a wave, he started across the room toward us. At the sight of him, Althea hissed a breath. She latched onto my arm and ducked behind me.

  “Oh no! I forgot I was supposed to meet him for lunch at the Dog-Eared Café. This is your fault,” Althea whispered.

  Fletcher, who was on the other side of me, hissed a breath as well when he looked up from the blender and spotted his former employer.

  Sympathetic to their discomfort, I hurried forward to greet Bailey. With hand
extended, I said, “I bet you came to talk chocolate.”

  He met me halfway. Our hands clasped. “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to taking a tour of your shop. You did an amazing job getting it cleaned up after yesterday’s incident.” He continued to hold onto my hands tightly as he peered intently into my eyes. “You are okay, aren’t you? I mean … mentally. After what happened with the shooting and all.” He released my hands and pointed to his temple.

  “Oh, yes, yes. I’m fine with all that. It’s not the first time someone has taken potshots at me.”

  Bailey’s brows shot up into his hairline. “Really?”

  “It’s a story for another time,” I said. “Should we start the tour?”

  “In a minute.” He glanced over my shoulder to where Althea had been trying to duck behind the display case and frowned. “I also came here to find…” His frown matched hers. After a moment he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  I hooked my arm with his as a reward for him for giving Althea time to come to him. “Do you know much about the chocolate making process?” I asked him. “I don’t want to be telling you something you already know, especially since I imagine that as a chef and restaurant owner you already know all of this much better than I do.”

  “I am quite the chocolate lover,” he admitted with a smile. “While in culinary school, I had to pick between a study focus on the art of chocolate and candy making or on the business-end of running a restaurant. And since I’d always known I wanted my own restaurant one day, I decided to focus on the business-end of the degree. But let me tell you, some days I wish I’d taken that other route.”

  “Not knowing anything about chocolates hasn’t slowed me down,” I said with a laugh. “Not one bit.”

  “Not everyone is as brave as you.”

  “Me? Brave? No. My ignorance probably keeps me from knowing how big a task it is that I’ve undertaken. Let’s get started with the tour.” The sooner I got this over with, the sooner I could get back to questioning Fletcher about what he was doing at Cassidy’s house that night.

  Before answering me, Bailey glanced beyond my shoulder at Althea again. “Yes … um … yes. I’d love to get a tour and hear more about the process you use to make your Amar chocolates. I’m most anxious to sell some of your stock in my restaurant and online. I carry only the best and rarest items.”

  With my hand still in charge of his, I directed him over toward Bertie and away from Althea. I usually flinched at the touch of anyone other than close friends, but here I was hugging onto this stranger’s arm for an extended period of time. It was terribly uncomfortable. Althea would owe me for this one.

  Yet Althea was in no state to talk with the man she’d just stood up for lunch. When I’d glanced in her direction, she’d stuffed two sea salt chocolate caramels into her mouth … at the same time! Clearly she was still struggling to compose herself. With two caramels in her mouth, it would be quite a while before she’d be able to talk to anyone. I knew that—embarrassingly—from firsthand experience.

  “You want to wholesale our chocolates?” Bertie asked after I’d introduced her to Bailey. She sounded suspicious. “Why?”

  “Why? Are you serious? It’s because the Chocolate Box produces the finest chocolate in the world. I like to bring my handpicked clients the finest products. My website is accessible by invitation only. It’s very exclusive.”

  “Sounds like a terrific opportunity to get your chocolates into the hands of influencers, Penn,” Bubba said. He’d been hanging around Bertie like a nervous teen ever since Florence had left the shop. But at the mention of marketing, the president of Camellia Beach’s business association regained his confidence. He talked up several of the island’s other businesses, including Althea’s crystal shop.

  “That does sound impressive,” Bailey said without much enthusiasm.

  “I hear a ‘but’ in that sentence.” Bubba must have noticed Bailey’s lack of excitement too.

  “It’s the murder.” The chef looked honestly worried. “How safe am I on this island?”

  “It was just one murder,” Bubba said jovially. “A freak occurrence for Camellia Beach.”

  “Is it? Penn was just telling me how she’d been shot at more than once since moving here. To be honest, it’s kind of freaking me out.”

  Bubba gave the younger man’s arm a friendly pound. “It’s not like that, not at all. Talk with our police chief. Hank will tell you how Camellia Beach is one of the safest places to be in the state.”

  “The night of Cassidy’s murder, I was working at the restaurant,” Bailey said. “I still can’t stop thinking that if I’d been home or if I hadn’t left on the porch lights that none of this would have happened.”

  “Jody didn’t kill Cassidy.” I was emphatic about it. He didn’t need to beat himself up over Cassidy’s murder. He had no reason to feel guilty. He couldn’t have controlled Jody’s crazy antics or stopped the second shooter from using the cover of Jody’s gunfire to shoot a bullet through the local lothario’s heart. “Jody shot out your lights, but someone else shot Cassidy.”

  Bailey looked confused. “I heard that the gun—”

  “I don’t care what you heard. Jody didn’t kill that man.” I slammed my hand against my leg to provide the extra emphasis he clearly wasn’t hearing in my tone.

  “Penn promised Jody’s young son that she would get her mother out of jail before school starts on Thursday,” Bertie explained gently. “Did I hear Althea correctly when you came in? You had made a lunch date with my daughter?”

  Bailey looked at me. He then looked at Althea. And then back at Bertie. His eyes widened. “Althea is your daughter? I don’t know why I didn’t see the resemblance before. Yes, we were supposed to have lunch today. As you know, I’m new to the area. I was really looking forward to getting to know some of its residents better.”

  Smoothly done, I thought to myself.

  Bertie seemed pleased by his answer. “My Althea is passionate about her crystals. I’ve known her to miss all sorts of important appointments whenever she gets a new shipment of those shiny rocks of hers. And she did get a new shipment in just this morning. So don’t take it personally.”

  “I didn’t,” he said with a wink in Althea’s direction. “Well, I did at first. No man wants to be left sitting alone at a restaurant like that. It’s hard on the ego.”

  “We can’t have that,” Bubba said with a laugh that sounded a touch nervous. “Bertie, in order to make it up to the poor guy you’ll simply have to invite us all over to dinner tonight.”

  “Is that what you think, Bubba?” Bertie propped her hands on her hips. “And you expect me to singlehandedly cook a feast for half the island? With no advanced notice?”

  “I … um … I could help,” he stumbled over his words. “I have a recipe for a pork rub that you’d love.”

  “You think I’ll love it, huh?” Bertie said, her hands still on her hips.

  He nodded. “It has chocolate in it.”

  “Chocolate?” She didn’t sound convinced. “And you make this dish all by yourself?”

  “I do! And you’re going to love it. So it’s a date?” Bubba’s smile froze on his lips as the word “date” came out of his mouth. He cleared his throat and started to backtrack right away. “I mean, for Althea and Bailey here. It’s a makeup date for them. For them.”

  While Bertie laughed, Bailey shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I’d really like to taste that pork rub and spend more time with you Althea, but I can’t make it tonight. The restaurant still needs me there every moment of every evening. It’ll be a while before I can start taking nights off.”

  Bubba looked crestfallen.

  “You can still make your pork rub, Bubba,” Bertie said kindly. “Penn has kept me so busy these last couple of days, I’m bone tired. Don’t have much energy when it’s time to think about cooking dinner.”

  “Really?” Bubba grinned so big his mouth nearly eng
ulfed the entire shop.

  “Maybe we could plan another lunch date,” Althea offered Bailey as she finally came over to stand with the rest of us. “Call me later, and we can compare our calendars.”

  “I’ll do that. Now, about this tour, Penn,” he said. “I’m eager to see everything.”

  Althea accompanied me as I showed Bailey around the shop. I took him through the steps we used to roast and grind the cacao beans and craft our unique chocolate bars. In the kitchen, Bailey happily tasted one of our one hundred percent Amar chocolate squares. His eyes turned dark and smoky as he held onto the edge of the counter. I wasn’t surprised. That was the standard reaction by anyone who tasted the chocolate for the first time.

  “This chocolate’s reputation doesn’t do it justice,” he said once he got over the shock of how deep and rich the flavors actually were. “This is better than anything I’ve ever tasted. And I’ve tasted delicacies from around the globe.”

  Before he left I told him I’d think about his offer to sell the chocolates through his online shop, but I couldn’t make any promises.

  “Thank you,” Althea said as the two of us stood at the door and watched Bailey walk happily toward his car.

  “No thanks necessary. You stood him up in order to come with me.”

  “No, I stood him up because I’d forgotten about him.” Her cheeks darkened as she admitted it. “I don’t think I’m cut out for dating. Not anymore.”

  I was about to ask her what had happened to make her think that when someone came up from behind and tapped me on the shoulder. Startled, I whirled around like a dervish, but I didn’t swing at the unfortunate soul who’d sneaked up on me. See, that was growth. I was getting better at controlling my jumpy nerves.

  “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Fletcher didn’t sound sorry. He sounded determined and more in control of his speech impediment that ever. But he had thrown his hands in the air in a protective move. Apparently, he’d heard about how I had a tendency to go on the offensive whenever someone on the island was trying to kill me. Something red and plastic flew out of his hand. It skittered across the hardwood floor and came to stop at Bubba’s feet.