Christmas Cocoa Murder

by Carlene O'Connor

  “The police called Freddy to pick him up. She phoned me and I said I’d be happy to keep him, since we’d offered to, but she said I would have too much to do, that she’d figure something out. I mean, I need to plan Jed’s burial, but the police said they have to keep his body for a while.” She shuddered. “I hate to even think of his body all cold and in the morgue or wherever.”

  “I can imagine. I’m so sorry.”

  “That’s why I have the heat so high. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I can’t help it. I kept shivering when it was set to sixty-eight, like I usually have it.” Willa Mae scratched at silver paint on the back of one hand. “It’s crazy. I’ve been doing a craft today. It helps keep my mind off what’s going on.”

  “That’s not crazy. What’s the craft?” I asked, even though I knew.

  “Freddy O’Neill gave me some interesting seedpods when we were leaving their house the other night, remember? I’m spray-painting them.” She waved a hand toward the dining table.

  As long as this plant toxicologist wasn’t grinding up the wisteria pods and putting them in her husband’s hot chocolate.

  Willa Mae continued. “It was either that or work on a really hard puzzle.”

  “Puzzles are a great distraction. How long were you and Jed married, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Nineteen years.” Her fingers resumed the rapid rubbing.

  I nodded. “You seem to be doing pretty well with this sudden news.”

  Her fingers quieted as she gazed at me. “I don’t mind telling you, he and I hadn’t gotten along very well for quite a while. I’m not quite sure why I stayed married to him. We didn’t have children to tie us together. But I didn’t wish him dead. No way.” She pushed first one and then the other sleeve up to her elbows.

  I stood, nearly staring at a healing bruise on her forearm, but made my eyes keep moving up to her face. “I’m afraid I need to get back to my store and do prep for tomorrow. Please call me if there’s anything I can do for you, okay?” I dug one of my Pans ’N Pancakes cards out of my bag and scribbled my cell number on it.

  She took the card. “Thanks, Robbie. This was real nice of you to drop by. I don’t belong to a church, you know, the kind of folks who usually step up when somebody passes. My only friend in town moved away last year. And Jed had alienated our neighbors something bad, so they haven’t been by, either. Or maybe they don’t know he’s gone yet.”

  Chapter Eleven

  In my thoughts, as I ate dinner back at home, was that healing bruise on Willa Mae’s arm. I pictured it while I fed and played with Birdy and during a quick phone check-in with Abe while he drove to his banjo group practice. Jed had seemed overbearing and controlling with his wife. Had he been physically abusing her, too? I didn’t know Willa Mae well enough to ask her. And a lot of abused spouses didn’t want to admit it, anyway, although it might be different if the abuser was dead. Still, she’d pushed her sleeves up as if she wanted me to see the bruise. Maybe Freddy knew more.

  By seven o’clock, I was in the restaurant prepping for the next day while the laundry finished drying. On my list were the usuals, like biscuit dough and the dry ingredients for pancakes. Tonight I also had to cut up asparagus and cherry tomatoes for tomorrow’s omelets. Pre-slice sub rolls. And accomplish all the other prep tasks of a breakfast-and-lunch chef.

  I wrinkled my nose. Did we have a lunch dessert? My friend Phil usually baked cookies and brownies for the store, but he, like Turner, was away on a family vacation.

  I mentally drummed my fingers on the counter as I chopped asparagus into half-inch pieces, perfect to quick cook in an omelet. The vegetable wasn’t in season, of course, but I didn’t adhere to a strict farm-to-table policy, where all ingredients had to be local and in season. For starters, I wouldn’t be able to serve coffee—which you couldn’t grow outdoors anywhere in Indiana—and without a cup of joe, a breakfast joint couldn’t survive.

  The question of dessert remained. Oh, heck. I could whip up more of Freddy’s Bridecakes. Why not? I stowed the asparagus in a covered container in the walk-in and emerged with three pounds of butter in my arms.

  I froze at the sound of knocking on the front door. It was dark out. Very dark. Jed might have died accidentally, or someone might have killed him. Didn’t matter. No way was I opening the door of my store to an unknown visitor.

  A text dinged into my phone in my back pocket. I dropped the butter on the counter and checked the name. Howard O’Neill? I laughed out loud. The message said he was on the front porch. I hurried over to the door and unlocked it to find a harried-looking Howard and an excited Cocoa standing together, Cocoa straining at his leash.

  “Howard, please come in.” I stood back.

  He blew in with a gust of wind. I shut the door against the weather. Cocoa sniffed everything he could reach.

  “Robbie, I’m in a major bind.”

  “What’s going on? I heard you were questioned by the police half the day.”

  “I sure was. Right now, Freddy is at her concert and I’m supposed to pick up Sean and get over there, too. But she got the dog back this morning, and Sean’s supposed to come home with us, because his mom is leaving town and Abe’s working. I don’t know what to do with the puppy. Any chance you can keep him for a day or two?”

  “Me?” In my little apartment with Birdy? And me in the restaurant? Yikes.

  “Please? I didn’t know who else to ask. I tried finding a place to board him, but they’re all either full or don’t take puppies. I’ll come over tomorrow and walk him, if the police don’t invite me back, that is.” He stole a glance at his watch and swore under his breath.

  “I guess so. I’ve never taken care of a dog before, though.” I wanted to ask him why he and Freddy hadn’t asked a neighbor to help out, but I didn’t want to seem uncooperative. Howard and Freddy had a pretty big chance of becoming my in-laws one day. Which, I supposed, might be the reason they felt comfortable asking me for this favor.

  Howard handed me the leash and gave me a quick hug. “You’re an angel. I’ll get his stuff out of the car.”

  He was back in a flash carrying a metal cage and a cloth bag. “Where do you want the crate?”

  “He can’t be in the restaurant.” I grimaced. “It’ll have to be in my apartment. Come on back.”

  We set up the crate in the living room. Birdy arched his back and hissed at Cocoa when he saw him. Cocoa whined and pulled at his leash, so I kept a firm hold on the puppy. Poor Birdy ever so slowly backed up until he could safely dash into the kitchen.

  “Cocoa already ate tonight, and he took a leak outside when we got here,” Howard said. “You’ll have to take him out one more time before you go to bed. Give him half a cup of puppy kibble and water in the morning. And thank you.”

  “Can he go into the crate now? I have work to do in the restaurant.” And laundry to fold after that.

  “Sure.” Howard coaxed Cocoa into the crate with his blankie, unclipped the leash, and latched the door.

  The puppy started barking and I groaned inwardly, but by the time we went back into the restaurant, he had quieted. Whew.

  At the front door, I said, “I hope you’ll let me know the train of Oscar’s questioning when you get a chance.”

  “You’re on a first-name basis with the detective?” Howard paused, his hand on the doorknob.

  “Kind of. Does he think Jed was murdered? And suspects you for it?”

  “Frankly, it was a bewildering day, Robbie. All I did was bring them the report from our auditor. Jed had been ripping me off for a year and hiding it. But I didn’t find out until after he was dead. The whole thing was ridiculous. I finally got my lawyer in there and she put a stop to their grilling.” He looked at his watch again. “I gotta go. Thanks again. See you in the morning.”

  And he was gone.

  Chapter Twelve

  I was so not a dog person. I got up at my weekday usual of five-thirty the next morning, yawning from my restless sleep
. As I jacked up the thermostat, Cocoa awoke and barked a few times almost immediately. I groaned aloud. Instead of lounging with coffee in my pj’s, playing with Birdy, I pulled on socks, a knit hat, my long down coat, and my winter boots. I clipped on the puppy’s leash and donned fleece mittens before stepping out the back door with him.

  It was a dark morning, with not a hint of dawn, which wouldn’t happen for another two hours. True, the stars were silver glitter overhead, but my breath came out in clouds of condensation that looked like they wanted to freeze midair. I followed Cocoa around the small yard until he relieved himself.

  “Let’s go, doggy.” I was already shivering. Once inside, I reversed the warm wraps, but kept socks and hat on until I warmed up. I didn’t care how silly it looked, I was still chilled. I set up Cocoa’s food and water dishes on newspapers near his crate, instead of in the kitchen. I didn’t want Birdy to get freaked out any more than he already was—although, for now, he was still snoozing on the foot of my bed. I closed the bedroom door and let the puppy off leash to eat and explore a bit while I made coffee and ate a toasted English muffin with peanut butter. Cocoa ended up snoozing on my foot for a few minutes, exactly where Birdy liked to sit, too.

  By six o’clock, I was showered and dressed. Cocoa was back in the crate, Birdy was fed, and it was time to get breakfast for the masses under way for the seven o’clock opening. Sunday was the only day we delayed opening until eight. By the time Danna arrived at six-thirty, I had biscuits baking. I’d beaten dozens of eggs, which were now in a pitcher waiting to be transformed into omelets and wrecks. And a pot each of caf and decaf perked into their carafes.

  “Hey, Danna.”

  She gave a little wave, but her eyes were only half open.

  “Late night?” I asked.

  She nodded wordlessly as she slipped on an apron and washed her hands before heading into the cooler to bring out the caddies of jams, sugars, and condiments that went on each table. We set the tables before leaving the day before, but kept the caddies in the cooler so we didn’t tempt any critters to sneak in and dine overnight.

  I smiled at her. Danna was as reliable an employee as they come. She and her boyfriend often went out on weeknights, but she never skipped out on work the next day because of it. By the time she needed to be alert and on the job, she always was.

  “I cut up all the asparagus and tomatoes last night,” I told her. “And I ordered in grated cheddar for the omelets.”

  “Mmm.”

  “And I made up more Bridecake dough, too, for lunch desserts.”

  She nodded.

  “So I temporarily acquired a puppy last night.”

  That got her eyes open. “You did? Can I see it?”

  “Sure, but not now. He’s a Christmas present for Abe’s son, but they’re trying to keep it a secret until Christmas morning. We’ll have to walk Cocoa a few times this morning, and I’m happy to let you do the honors.”

  “Cocoa’s his name? That’s adorbs.” She got out the big ketchup bottle with the pump and topped up some of the red squeeze bottles.

  “He’s definitely adorable and is a chocolate Lab, so the name fits.” I emptied the pancake mix into the big mixer bowl and started cracking eggs into it.

  Danna finished with the caddies. After setting one on each table, she asked, “Me start grill?”

  “Yes, Jane. I already got out the meats.”

  “Any news on the death? Like if it was an accident or not?”

  “Nothing official. Yesterday you mentioned something about a business Jed might have been associated with. Someplace that raised animals in bad conditions?”

  “Yeah.” She lit the grill burners. She laid out bacon in neat strips, and a line of sausages next to it.

  “Do you know the name of the place?”

  “No. Lemme text Mom. She remembers everything.” She thumbed a quick text and stuck her phone back into the pocket of the calf-length denim skirt she wore today. It had been cut apart and reassembled with flowered gores of what looked like flour sack fabric interspersed with the denim so the skirt flared out toward the hem. Red tights and a green waffle-weave shirt completed the outfit, with a green-and-red flowered scarf tying back her hair. The girl owned flair.

  Buck waited on the front porch when I opened the door at seven. I greeted him.

  “Mornin’, Robbie. Man alive, am I ever famished.” He ambled in.

  “Are you ever not hungry?” I asked.

  “Don’t suppose I’m not.”

  Nobody else had followed him in. Huh. Yesterday we had a crowd. Had word gotten out about the confiscated cocoa? I hoped this wasn’t a sign that my business was about to take a nosedive.

  Inside I asked, “Any news?”

  He turned his back on Danna. “We was checking into a lady by name of Karinde Nilsson. You know her?”

  I nodded. “A little. She’s big into animal rescue.”

  “That’s right. Seems she had some contentious history with Greenberg. She don’t got no alibi for his time of death, neither. Lives alone out in the woods and such.”

  Interesting. “But isn’t that only relevant if Jed was murdered, Buck?”

  “Yuperoo. They’re going to do a rush autopsy this morning, Thompson said. We should oughta know more in a couple few hours.”

  “Good.”

  “And by the by, we seen that cam footage. All’s it shows for the time in question is Greenberg slipping and hitting his head.”

  An older couple pushed through the door, followed by several construction workers who ate breakfast here nearly every day. Whew. We had customers, after all.

  “Let me know the autopsy results after you hear?” I murmured even as I smiled and nodded at the newcomers.

  “You bet. I know by now I can trust you, Robbie.”

  Trust me to do what? I didn’t ask.

  Chapter Thirteen

  We still weren’t as swamped today as yesterday. Maybe people were starting to travel elsewhere for the holidays. Or maybe they were avoiding a place that might have been selling very bad chocolate.

  Three local businessmen lingered talking over their meals. I refilled their coffees for the third time and had turned my back when my ears perked up.

  “Howard O’Neill?” one said. “He was thick as thieves with the dead guy. I heard O’Neill’s trying to pick up a new investment property.”

  “I wouldn’t do business with him. Greenberg was a crook and so isn’t O’Neill,” one of his breakfast companions said.

  I casually turned back and slowly headed for the table beyond them.

  The third man made a tsking noise. “It’s a crying shame. A teacher, of all people.” He wagged his head.

  The crying shame was that kind of malicious gossip, that kind of guilt by association. Poor Howard. We had to clear his name, and fast. Fuming in silence, I headed back to make another pot of coffee.

  Buck consumed his gargantuan breakfast and departed. Our omelet special was popular with those who did come in. There was more buzz about Jed’s death, but since it hadn’t publicly been deemed murder, it was a quiet buzz. I didn’t pick up any more slurs on Howard’s character, thank goodness.

  Danna headed into my apartment to let Cocoa out at around eight. She said she was going to spend a few minutes playing with him after he did his business.

  “That’s fine,” I said. “And thanks.”

  While she was on puppy duty, Abe came in, holding a folded newspaper. He made a beeline for the grill and gave me a quick hug. I was working, so I had to tamp down the rush I always got from touching him, but I did hang on slightly longer than I should have.

  He smiled down at me and tucked a stray curl behind my ear. “Thanks for taking Cocoa. Dad texted me from the concert last night.”

  “It’s working out okay. Birdy’s a little freaked, but it’s only for another day. Danna’s with Cocoa right now.”

  “You can spare her?” He glanced around the restaurant.

  “We’re not
overly busy, as you can see.” The gossiping men had finally left, too. I decided not to mention to Abe what they’d said. He had enough on his plate.

  “I’d offer to help, but I have to be at work by nine. At least it’s my last day until next week. I managed to stay off the emergency call list for once.”

  “Good.” I smiled at him. Nobody should have to work on Christmas, but obviously a lot of people did, and electrical line workers were among them. “We’re fine, at least so far.”

  “So you know Dad’s lawyer got him sprung.”

  “Yes, he told me last night. And Buck told me they’re doing the autopsy on Jed this morning.” I flipped three pancakes and turned a couple of sausages.

  “Paper declares it an accidental death.” Abe unfolded the paper to show me the headline on the Brown County Democrat.

  I peered at it. “So they do. I’m sure Oscar wouldn’t want to spook the murderer if that was what happened. The authorities can always change their tune after the autopsy if they need to.”

  “I guess.”

  “Hungry?” I asked.

  “That’s one reason I’m here, yes.”

  “What’s your pleasure? We have a cheerful omelet that’s tasty, plus all the usuals.”

  “I’ll take cheerful, please, with wheat toast and sausages. Thanks, darlin’.” He picked up the coffeepot and headed to an empty table, pouring his own mug full before returning it.

  By ten, the place was nearly empty. Danna wiped down tables and reset them while I loaded the dishwasher.

  “Danna, I’m going to take Cocoa for a quick walk. Okay?”

  “Of course. I’ll bake the cookies while we’re quiet.”

  Five minutes later, I was suited up in warm clothes and heading toward the library with an eager puppy. I figured he could use the exercise, and I could use a quick chat with Georgia. I’d be back well before the lunch crowd showed up, if we got a crowd. Storefronts blared Christmas music, and the bells and wreaths the town had hung from lampposts gave the town a festive air. The crisp air in front of a bakery smelled of fresh-baked cookies. Last-minute shoppers toted handled bags and smiles. I paused to admire a working train set making its way through a miniature holiday village in the front window of the toy store. The bookstore next door had set up a Christmas tree of books with red and green covers in their window. Everybody seemed to be in the spirit this year.