Chocolate Dipped Death Read online

  “And they are,” I assured her. I caught a glimpse of the smug I-told-you-so on Karen’s face and felt the tension in my neck knot even tighter. Struggling to appear in control, I turned to Evie. “What seems to be the problem?”

  She whipped around so fast I worried she might fall off the soles of her platform shoes. Her eyes gleamed as she shoved the score sheet in front of my face—far too close for my almost-forty-year-old eyes to focus. “Have you seen this?”

  “No, and I can’t see it now, either.” I tried without success to nudge her hand away. “I take it you have a complaint?”

  “She wants you to rearrange the scores from tonight’s competition to suit her.” Savannah and her breasts moved closer. “Apparently, she’s having trouble believing that I scored higher than she did.”

  Years of pent-up fury flashed in Evie’s violet eyes. “Only because you ignored the requirement to use an original recipe.” She pivoted back to me, still lashing about with the scorecard. “She downloaded her recipe from the Good Cooks Network website, Abby. She should be disqualified. This isn’t the first time she’s done something like this, either.”

  Savannah’s mouth thinned, and her eyes narrowed. “I’d be careful if I were you,” she warned. “An accusation like that could get you in trouble.”

  Evie didn’t seem to care. She squared her shoulders and straightened to her full height, which put the top of her head roughly even with Savannah’s shoulders. “I’m not worried. It will be easy enough to prove. I warned you that your nasty little habits would come back to bite you one of these days.”

  I could feel the crowd closing in around us, angling to get a better view, trying harder to hear what the two women were saying. I was going to have to do something fast, or the whole weekend would be ruined.

  “Evie—” I began.

  Savannah cut me off. “Are you accusing me of cheating?” I don’t think anyone missed the sudden flush of color in her cheeks.

  Or the triumphant smile that crossed Evie’s face. “I’m saying straight-out that you’ve cheated again. But this is the last time, Savannah. Do you hear me? I swear to God, this time I’m going to stop you.” She gestured roughly toward her second-place red ribbon and the two-pound box of candy she’d just been awarded. “I didn’t almost kill myself making that fudge for that.”

  No, but she’d expect anyone else to be content with it.

  “Do something, Abby,” she demanded. “I’m counting on you to make this right.”

  I backed a step away, wanting to put some distance between myself and her anger and also hoping to prevent anyone from thinking that I was taking sides. “Evie,” I said quietly, “I don’t—”

  “You don’t what? Don’t believe me?”

  “I didn’t say that,” I assured her. “I just think it might be best to discuss this somewhere else.” I glanced over my shoulder at the rapidly gathering crowd. “Privately.”

  “Why? Everyone here knows what Savannah’s like. There’s probably not a soul in this room she hasn’t hurt.”

  That was going a bit over the top, and I worried about Savannah’s husband’s reaction, but if Miles heard the vicious accusation, he gave no sign.

  “Why don’t we try to stay focused on tonight’s contest?” I suggested. “Let’s not drag the past into the discussion.”

  Tall, blond, and surprisingly handsome considering what a nerd he’d been in high school, Marshall Ames left the judges’ table and came to stand beside Savannah. “Don’t you think you’re being unnecessarily harsh, Evie?”

  “Why don’t you let her fight her own battles?” Evie snarled, leveling Marshall with a look of disdain. “I told you, I can prove what I’m saying.”

  “Impossible,” Savannah said with a laugh. “If there’s a recipe for Kentucky Colonels on some website, I certainly didn’t copy it. This recipe has been in my family for generations.”

  The nervous ball of energy in my stomach grew stronger, and I tried again to take the argument away from the public eye, but Savannah straightened majestically and cast a royal glance around the crowd. “Don’t listen to her, Abby. Tonight’s scores were fair, and I, for one, refuse to give in to Evie’s raging paranoia.” She caught her husband’s eye and beckoned him toward her. “Why don’t one of you take poor Evie out for a drink? I’m sure a little alcohol will make it all better. It usually does for her. I’ll see the rest of you tomorrow night.”

  She turned away, hitching her purse strap onto her shoulder and dismissing Evie’s protests at the same time.

  Maybe I should have stopped her, but I just wanted the argument to be over. At least this gave me a chance to look into Evie’s allegations without the whole town peering over my shoulder. If I was lucky, I could clear the whole mess up before tomorrow night’s segment of the competition.

  I couldn’t know it as I watched Savannah stalk out the door, but things were about to get a whole lot worse.

  Chapter 2

  An hour later, I settled the last dirty plates and empty cups on Aunt Grace’s huge silver tray and started carefully down the steps into the kitchen. As I stopped to turn out the light with my elbow, I spied Evie’s red ribbon and the gold-edged box of candy she’d left behind. Guess she wasn’t kidding when she said the prize wasn’t good enough.

  Irritation stung the muscles in my neck, and pain burned in the small of my back. Even after nine months, I wasn’t used to working on my feet all day. How Aunt Grace had stood behind the shop counter for more than forty years without needing surgery was a mystery I’d probably never solve.

  But this wasn’t the first difference in the two of us I’d run across. Aunt Grace had definitely been made of sterner stuff. She’d been strong enough to buck the system in the sixties to open the store in the first place. Back then, when banks almost never loaned money to women (especially those without a man to back them), Aunt Grace applied for the loan on her own, got it, and never looked back. To the best of my knowledge, she’d never lost control of a situation like the one we’d had tonight. The fact that I was working cleanup detail alone proved just how inept I was at soothing ruffled feathers.

  Sighing with frustration, I hoisted the tray high and slowly descended the stairs, feeling for each step before trusting my weight since I couldn’t see around the mound of garbage and dirty dishes. I was so engrossed, I didn’t realize that I wasn’t alone until I reached ground level and a deep voice asked, “Need help?”

  I let out a startled yelp and wheeled around to find a man standing in the shadows of the two refrigerators we keep in our candy kitchen. My heart slammed against my rib cage, and I croaked, “Who’s there?”

  A figure wearing dark jeans and a black turtleneck sweater moved into the light, but when I saw the sheaf of honey-blond hair and horn-rimmed glasses, I laughed with relief. “You scared the daylights out of me, Marshall. What are you doing here?”

  He closed the distance between us and took the tray out of my hands before I completely registered what he was doing. “Sorry. I was clearing the snow from my windshield when I saw Karen and Evie leaving. I thought I’d better come back and see if you needed help.” He ran a glance over the pile of dirty dishes and grinned at me. “Looks like I was right. You’ll be here all night if you have to clean up by yourself.”

  His concern surprised me. Marshall and I might have been in the same class in school, but we’d never really been friends. He’d always been too bookish and quiet for me, and I’d probably been too much a tomboy for him. Until tonight, I’d seen him only a couple of times since my return to Paradise, and both times for only a few minutes. Never long enough to talk or get acquainted.

  “I’m fine,” I assured him. “I asked Karen to take Evie somewhere and calm her down.”

  “She’s still upset about tonight’s results?”

  “That’s putting it mildly.” I moved past him to clear a spot for the tray among the boxes of toffee and stacks of saltwater taffy we’d made for the following night. “Evie’s
absolutely convinced that Savannah cheated somehow.”

  “Don’t let Evie make you paranoid,” Marshall said as he followed me across the kitchen. “She’s . . . different.”

  “She’s also determined to challenge the decision you three reached tonight.”

  “She’s desperate. We all know that. The only way she won’t challenge our decision is if we let her win.” Marshall wedged the tray onto the counter and gathered a handful of silverware from amid the trash. “I don’t care what she says, Abby, we weren’t wrong. I know she worked hard, but her entry wasn’t the best one out there tonight.”

  For some reason, just hearing him say that made me feel a little better. “Do the other judges feel the same way?”

  He shrugged. “I’m sure they do. You know what a stickler Beverly is, and Henry’s no pushover. He’s been judging this contest since the first year, and he’s furious with Evie for making such a stink. The only question is, what will it do to your contest if Savannah actually wins on Sunday night?”

  The heater kicked on, and I savored the welcome rush of warm air on my feet. “What do you mean?”

  “Just that Savannah Horne’s not the most popular person who ever lived in Paradise. If she wins, Evie won’t be the only person who’s upset.”

  “If she’s the best, she deserves to win.”

  “I’m not sure everyone else will see it that way.”

  I inched closer to the heat vent and studied his expression carefully. “Are you suggesting that I fix the contest?”

  Marshall shook his head. “Of course not. I just want to make sure you’re prepared, that’s all. You lived away for a long time, but memories last a long time around here. People can be slow to forgive—especially someone who shows no remorse.”

  I squirted soap into the sink and turned on the hot water. “Savannah’s been gone as long as I have,” I reminded him. “People can’t be hanging on to memories that are that old.”

  He lifted one shoulder. “Like I said, people can be slow to forgive. Savannah hurt a lot of people when we were kids.”

  “She made some people angry,” I agreed, “but I don’t think she did anything that awful—unless you know something I don’t.”

  Marshall’s lip curved as he stacked dishes next to the sink. “No. I didn’t really know her all that well back then. I’m just going by how people act when her name is mentioned. You saw how they were tonight. Karen. Rachel. Evie. I think her husband was the only friend she had in that entire room. If people think you’ve taken her side, it could cost you.” He planted both hands on the counter and sweetened his smile. “It’s just a friendly warning from one business owner to another, that’s all.”

  I didn’t know how to take his “friendly” warning, so I laughed it off. “Well, I’m not going to panic yet. This was only the first night of judging. Everything could change tomorrow.”

  Marshall leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “Maybe. But her entry tonight was surprisingly good. I don’t think any of us thought Savannah could cook like that. She didn’t seem all that interested in the domestic arts back in school.”

  I laughed in spite of myself. “No, she didn’t. But she’s had plenty of time to learn. People can change, you know.”

  Something hard and cold flickered in his eyes. “Not people like Savannah Vance.”

  “Horne,” I corrected automatically. I shut off the water and plunged my hands into the warm suds. “You’re the second person tonight who’s said that. But why do you feel that way? I thought you didn’t know her.”

  “I don’t, but I know of her.”

  “So what makes Savannah different from the rest of the world?”

  “Think about it, Abby. Why should she change? Her way of doing things has always worked pretty well for her. She’s always gotten everything she wants.” Marshall scratched at something on the countertop with his fingernail, then mopped it up with a damp rag. “She and Miles are obviously doing well. He was educated at Harvard, you know. And they’re moving to New York as soon as they leave here. He’s been offered a top position with a Fortune 500 company, so it’s not as if Savannah needs the cash.”

  Judging from the little I’d seen of Miles Horne, that was no doubt true, but the conversation was starting to make me uneasy. “Just tell me one thing,” I said. “Do you think Evie was right? Do you think Savannah cheated?”

  “Honestly?” Slow as molasses, Marshall shook his head. “I don’t know. Savannah’s always taken care of Savannah, that’s all I know. If she wants something, she’ll move heaven and earth to get it.”

  “Yeah, but what could she possibly want here? A plaque with her name on it? A blue ribbon? A few hundred dollars in prize money? I can’t imagine she considers any of that worth her time.”

  “Maybe she just wants another chance to show us all that she’s the best.”

  “Maybe,” I agreed reluctantly. “But if that’s the case, I wish she’d find some other way to do it.” I was worried enough about keeping Divinity in the black.

  Marshall tossed the cloth onto the counter and came to stand in front of me. “Just do yourself a favor, okay? Keep an eye on Savannah tomorrow. If she does have an ulterior motive, maybe you’ll be able to figure out what it is.”

  I nodded and managed a thin smile. “Yeah. Sure. And thanks for the help. I appreciate it.”

  “Not a problem. I was happy to do it.” He crossed to the door and let himself outside on a blast of cold winter air. I watched through the window until he disappeared around the corner, wondering why I’d never gotten to know him before. Except for his life at the restaurant, I didn’t even know what he’d been doing since high school. Had he ever married? Did he have children? I really should know the answers.

  He wasn’t the only person I’d lost touch with over the years. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d come back to Paradise during my marriage to Roger. He hadn’t wanted me tied to my past, and I’d given in without argument. I could justify my actions a dozen different ways, but the truth is, I’d let him dominate me. It’s not a mistake I’ll make again.

  Every one of my relationships had suffered during my absence. My nieces and nephews barely knew me, old friends had grown distant, and cousins who’d once been as close as siblings had trouble trusting me.

  I guess that was only fair. Sometimes I had trouble trusting myself.

  The third-floor apartment I call home is not a large space, nor is it particularly beautiful. It’s decorated with a jumble of furniture handed down from various relatives and mingled together in no particular style. Some—my ex-husband, for example—might even say the apartment is ugly, but it suits me just fine.

  I’m not going to lie to you, though. It’s a whole lot worse since my roommate moved in. I’m never sure what I’ll find when I open the door. That night I found half a roll of shredded toilet paper, one bra, an apple core, a half-eaten giant jawbreaker stuck to the welcome mat, and the toilet brush on the kitchen floor. In the living room, I found three empty toilet paper rolls (ends chewed), the splintered remains of a basket, three paperbacks (corners chewed), stuffing from some unidentifiable source, and one rawhide bone—untouched.

  One of these days, when I find a little spare time, I really have to take Max in for obedience training. He hadn’t been nearly so destructive when he was living and working with his former owner, but Brandon had taken Max to work with him every day at his clothing store. It’s a little harder to do that when you work in the food industry. Health inspectors tend to frown on having dogs and their fur in the kitchen.

  The jingle of dog tags warned me to brace myself as Max loped out of the bedroom and launched himself at me. At least the deep depression he’d suffered right after Brandon’s death was a thing of the past. He’s always happy to see me when I come home and reasonably well-behaved when I’m around, so I hold out hope that the rest will come.

  I spent a few minutes scratching Max and assuring him that he’s
the best dog in the world, listening to my messages, and changing out of the clothes I’d been wearing all day. Finally comfortable in jeans and my favorite old sweater, I stuffed my feet into boots, slipped into my coat, and clipped Max’s leash to his collar.

  Grabbing keys and wallet, I led Max down my new stairs and said a silent thank-you to my brother Wyatt for helping me restore them. Getting in and out of the apartment from outside was no problem in good weather, but sprinkle two feet of snow on the stairs, and it’s a different story.

  Max got to work almost as soon as we stepped outside, sniffing for just the right place to relieve himself, and dragging me along the ice-covered sidewalks with him. Soft white clouds enveloped his head as warm, moist breath mingled with the cold air. Shivering, I said a silent prayer that this wouldn’t be one of those nights where he couldn’t settle on a spot. “All right, boy,” I urged between chattering teeth, “Let’s get busy. There’s leftover pizza waiting for me upstairs.”

  He snuffled loudly, but he didn’t lift his nose from the sidewalk. I took that as a good sign, and followed him along the narrow parking strip that separates Divinity from Picture Perfect, our closest neighbor on the uphill side of the street.

  The lights were still on, and the urge to talk with Dooley Jorgensen about that night’s fiasco tugged at me almost as hard as Max was pulling on his leash. Dooley had been a great friend to Aunt Grace, and he’d taken me under his wing now that she was gone. Whenever I needed someone to listen, Dooley was there. No matter what the problem, he either commiserated or helped me figure out a solution. Usually both.

  But Max needed attention first, so I huddled deeper into my coat and followed the dog to the front of the store. Parked cars and SUVs, most of which sported ski racks, lined both sides of the street. Crowds of people strolled along the ice-crusted sidewalks on their way to or from dinner or drinks, and a steady stream of drivers hoping to find a parking space inched through town going uphill.