Chocolate Dipped Death Page 3

  Prospector is a two-way street until the snow flies. Then it, like most of the other streets in the narrow part of the valley, change to one-way traffic to accommodate the snow left behind by the plows. That doesn’t slow us down at all.

  This is one of the things I love about Paradise. It’s a small town by almost anyone’s standards, but we get enough tourist traffic to keep things from getting boring. There are plenty of old friends to provide roots, but always an opportunity to meet someone new. And there’s rarely a time, day or night, when you can walk outside in Paradise and feel alone.

  Now that I was out and surrounded by the rich scents of meals being prepared in nearby restaurants, leftover pizza didn’t sound nearly so appealing. I’d much rather have a steaming plate of Romano’s penne pasta with pine nuts and sun dried tomatoes, or even better, steak with sauce Bordelaise from Gigi.

  My mouth was watering as I followed Max around an amorous couple who looked as if they’d just left the ski slopes. I started past another, huddled deep in conversation within the recessed doorway of Rachel Summers’s candle shop, but something caught Max’s attention, and he ground to a halt.

  One of the best things about Paradise is the way everyone watches out for everyone else, so it was pure instinct that made me give the couple a quick once-over to make sure they weren’t trying to break in. They seemed innocent enough, probably just taking refuge from the cold. I started to turn away, but a stray bit of conversation blew across the sidewalk on a gust of wind.

  “I don’t care what you do, Miles. Don’t you understand that? Now that I know—” Either she stopped speaking, or she lowered her voice so I couldn’t hear, but I recognized Savannah immediately. I was still standing there, gawping, when she pushed away from him and snapped, “Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  Curiosity went to war with discretion—and won. At least until I remembered how I’d felt when someone witnessed one of my arguments with Roger. Feeling like a voyeur, I tugged on Max’s leash and headed downhill again, but I only made it a few feet before Savannah called after me.

  “Abby? Is that you?”

  I turned back, unsure whether to acknowledge that I’d seen them arguing or pretend I hadn’t. When I realized that Miles was already striding away uphill, I decided that honesty was the best policy. “Sorry about that,” I said with a rueful grin. “I had no idea that was you two.”

  Savannah waved away my apology, and her lips curved into a smile, but even in the dim light I could tell that shadows filled her eyes.

  I glanced at Miles’s retreating back and asked, “Is everything all right?”

  Savannah nodded. “Yes. It’s just one of those things. You know how it is.”

  Unfortunately I did. Roger and I had had a million squabbles while we were married. At the time, I’d considered most of them nuisance arguments. Now I wondered how much they’d contributed to Roger’s affair and our eventual divorce. But second-guessing myself wouldn’t change the past, and I try to avoid dragging my ex-husband, his new girlfriend, or their baby into my new life whenever possible. Shaking off the memories, I started walking again. “He seems like a nice guy.”

  “Miles?”

  “That was him, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. Yes, it was. And you’re right. I guess he does make a good first impression.” Before I could decide what to say to that, Savannah seemed to shrug off whatever mood she was in and changed the subject. “I’m surprised you’re speaking to me. I thought I was the local pariah.”

  Agreeing with her seemed harsh, so I smiled and said, “I don’t know about that.”

  “Come on, Abby, you can be honest with me. Evie was so upset with me tonight, she nearly choked on her own tongue—and I know she’s not the only one.”

  I thought about Karen, still furious about something that happened two decades ago, and decided Marshall was right. “People around here have long memories.”

  “Always have.” Savannah swept a lock of her glorious chocolate hair over her shoulder and let her gaze travel slowly down the street. “I’d say that nothing ever changes around here, but that’s not exactly true, is it?”

  “No, it’s not. Paradise isn’t the sleepy little farm town it used to be.”

  “But people still don’t want me around.”

  “It’s not easy to come back,” I admitted. “I wasn’t exactly welcomed with open arms, either. There are still people who wonder what I’m doing here.”

  Savannah let out a reedy laugh. “They’d probably keel over dead if I moved back. They can hardly stand to be in the same room with me.”

  Reminding her that she’d earned her reputation wouldn’t accomplish anything, so I went for a less confrontational response. “People are curious. They wonder what brings you back after so many years, and the people at Divinity tonight are wondering why you’ve entered the contest. Obviously, you don’t need the prize money.”

  We reached the corner, and she stopped walking. She turned up the collar of her coat to cover her ears and dredged up a smile. “I came back to clear up my mother’s estate. I thought everybody knew that.”

  “Well, of course, everyone’s heard the official explanation, but some people do wonder if there’s another reason.”

  Savannah laughed as if the thought of being mysterious delighted her. With her long, dark hair and striking coloring, she looked beautiful even in the dim glow of the streetlamp. Not surprisingly, I felt like a lump of clay beside her—but then, I always had. “I guess things don’t change around here, do they? Don’t these people have better things to do than worry about me?”

  I led Max into the intersection behind an SUV laden with half a dozen pairs of skis. “You know how it is. You’ll be big news for a few days, and then they’ll find something new to talk about.”

  “As long as I don’t give them something new to sink their teeth into, right?” Savannah’s expression sobered, and she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her coat. “I’m curious, Abby. What on earth made you decide to come back? Weren’t you living in California?”

  I nodded. “Sacramento.”

  “I could have sworn I heard you were a lawyer.”

  “I was. Corporate law.”

  “And now you’re back in Paradise making candy.” She slid an amused glance at me. “I just know there’s a story there.”

  Not one I wanted to share. She seemed different tonight, but I wasn’t foolish enough to trust her. I gave her the simplified version. “I went through a divorce, and then Aunt Grace died, so I decided to stay.”

  “Do you miss it? Life in the city, I mean.”

  “Not really,” I said, and I was a little surprised to realize that I meant it.

  “And most of the folks around here have just accepted you back, no questions asked?”

  I felt an odd sense of loyalty toward the people of Paradise, so I sugarcoated the truth just a little. “I wouldn’t go quite that far, but for the most part, yeah. Like I said, there are a few people watching to see if I make good, and probably a few more who are waiting to see if I’m really going to stick around, but with everybody else it’s like I never left.”

  Max finally found an acceptable tree and lifted his leg. I told myself it wasn’t a commentary on the lie I’d just told.

  Shivering in a chill gust of wind, Savannah swept a glance along the street in front of us. “For you, that’s probably just fine, but being treated as if I never left isn’t really much of an incentive for me.”

  No, it wouldn’t be, but that’s not the part of her comment that interested me most. “Does that mean you’re thinking about coming back to Paradise?”

  Something darted through her eyes, but it was gone before I could identify it. “Me? Come back here? I doubt I’d last very long if I did.”

  “I thought you and Miles were moving to New York—or is that just a rumor?”

  Savannah quirked a half smile at me. “Well, the rumor mill certainly isn’t broken. Where did you hear
that?”

  “I don’t remember.” It wasn’t exactly loyalty to Marshall that kept me quiet, but people are slow to forgive, myself included. “It’s not true, then?”

  Savannah looked away without answering and remained silent for a long time. “The jury’s still out, I guess. I’d rather stay in Gunnison, close to family. Or even here.”

  I’d been wondering why a man who’d been educated at Harvard was working in Gunnison, Colorado. Now I had my answer. Savannah liked it there. I must have looked shocked because she laughed. “Does that surprise you?”

  “Actually, yes. It does.”

  “You’re lucky, Abby. I doubt people would forgive someone like me.”

  She sounded almost wistful, and I felt an unexpected twinge of pity for her. “I’m sure they would if they knew you’d changed. Why wouldn’t they?”

  “Let’s face it. I didn’t exactly endear myself to people when I lived here.”

  “Nobody’s perfect.”

  “Least of all me, I know. I think Evie would be happy if I fell off the face of the earth. Karen, too.”

  “Evie’s emotional,” I agreed, “but she’s not completely unreasonable. And Karen—well, I’m sure that if you talked with her, she’d realize that you’re not the girl you used to be and the two of you could move on.”

  Savannah cut me off with a sharp laugh. “Oh, Abby, it’s a nice thought, but you know it’s not ever going to happen. Karen would sooner kill me than look at me.” As if she realized she’d crossed a line, she waved a hand in the air between us and glanced up the hill. “Ignore me, okay? I’m just in a mood.”

  A mood I’d never seen before, and I’ll confess I didn’t know what to do with it. I heard myself ask, “Do you want to go somewhere? Maybe have a drink, or dinner?”

  She studied me for a long moment, then shook her head. “Thanks, but I need to get back to the hotel and get some sleep. I’ll be all right by tomorrow, I’m sure. Setup starts at four, right?”

  I nodded. “And judging begins at seven.”

  “Okay then.” She smiled and turned away, but she only went a couple of steps before she looked back again. “Abby?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  I tried not to let her see my surprise. “For what?”

  “For talking to me as if I wasn’t Savannah Vance.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I muttered something inane and turned Max toward home. But I had trouble putting Savannah out of my mind. The strange thing was, I actually liked her in that oddly vulnerable mood. I wished more people could see her like that, but I was realistic enough to know that probably wouldn’t happen.

  I just wish I’d known how right I was. Maybe I could have made a difference.

  Chapter 3

  I fell asleep the minute my head hit the pillow and slept hard until Max’s cold, wet nose planted firmly in the crook of my arm brought me back to the land of the living. I try to be sensitive to my dog’s needs, but I was still so tired I hurt and far from ready for another walk outside.

  Groaning softly, I pulled my arm away and snuggled deeper into the covers. “Ten more minutes,” I mumbled. “That’s a good boy.”

  Max whined softly and planted one hefty paw on my bed just as someone set up a ruckus outside my front door. The pounding came first, followed by a frantic female voice shouting, “Abby? Abby! Where are you? Open up. It’s freezing out here.”

  Karen?

  I bolted upright, panicked to think that I’d overslept. Shivering in the sudden chill, I stumbled into the living room, whacked my shoulder into a wall, and bruised my shin on the coffee table before I woke up enough to realize that it was still dark outside.

  I ground to a halt and tried to focus on the glowing red numbers on my VCR clock. What time was it, anyway? Was somebody actually outside, or was I just having a bad dream?

  “If you don’t open the door,” Karen shouted, “I’ll just let myself in through the shop.”

  I guess that answered my question. Max plopped down in front of the door and wagged his little stump tail as if a visit from Karen at two thirty in the morning was a good thing. Obviously, he and I needed to have a talk.

  I made a mental note to install a dead bolt on the back door, maneuvered carefully around the coffee table, and opened the door a crack. “Karen? Is that you?”

  She shoved the door open the rest of the way and strode inside, dragging a suitcase with her. “I’m going to kill her, Abby. I swear on all that’s holy, I’m going to kill her.”

  I was still too sleepy to think straight, so I made myself ask, “Who are you talking about?”

  “Savannah Vance, who else?”

  I groaned aloud, sank onto the couch, and turned on one dim lamp. “Why? What happened now?”

  The lamp was a bad idea. Karen’s hair looked as if she’d been caught in a whirlwind, and her eyes were red and puffy from crying. She sniffed loudly and plopped onto the other end of the couch. “Exactly what I told you would happen. She went after Sergio. I told you she would.”

  I shook my head in confusion. “Hold on. Say that again? She did what?”

  “Went after Sergio.”

  I was almost fully awake now, but she wasn’t making any sense. Savannah had been on her way back to the hotel, hadn’t she? I pushed hair out of my eyes so I could see Karen better. “Are you sure?”

  “Do I look like I’m not?”

  “But how? Where? When?”

  “The same way she always does. Tonight. At O’Schuck’s.”

  O’Schuck’s is an upscale nightclub around the corner and down two blocks, so Savannah would have had no trouble getting there, but I was having a hard time putting everything together in my head. “Are you sure? Maybe it’s just a vicious rumor.”

  “I wish!” Karen spotted half a loaf of chocolate tea bread on my kitchen counter and snagged it. She sat on the couch, curled her feet up under her, and tore off a piece. “Evie and I walked in and found them, all cozied up together and laughing—” She broke off with a shudder and crammed another bite into her mouth. “I can’t stay with him,” she mumbled around the bread. “I absolutely refuse to sleep in the same bed with him.”

  The fumes of whatever she’d been drinking hovered in the air between us, and her eyes had a vague, unfocused look. I wondered if she’d done the bulk of her drinking before she met up with Sergio and Savannah, or after. “Are you sure that’s what Sergio was doing?”

  Karen glared at me. A crumb dropped from the side of her mouth onto the couch. “I know what I saw.”

  “I’m sure you do,” I said quickly. “It’s just that—well, I know how much Sergio loves you, and I have a hard time believing he’d throw it all away like this. Maybe you should tell me what you saw—exactly.”

  Karen pulled her knees up to her chest and dropped her forehead onto the shelf they made. “Just what I told you,” she muttered into the denim of her jeans. “Sergio and that . . . that . . .” Her head shot up. “That woman were sitting together this close. He was looking at her with that look—you know the one I mean.”

  I reached across the cushions and tore off a piece of bread for myself. The only difference between Karen and me is that Karen won’t be wearing the bread around her hips next week.

  “God only knows what I would have found if I’d been ten minutes later,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

  Her pain was raw and palpable, and it wasn’t alone. All the hurt and outrage I’d felt over Roger’s affair was there, shoring it up.

  I reached across the cushion again, this time to link my fingers with hers. “You don’t think Sergio would have . . . you know?”

  Karen’s hazel eyes darkened. “Had sex with her? Absolutely. You know how men get when they’re around Savannah. It’s like they can’t even think.”

  “Yeah, but—” I cut myself off before I could defend her. Maybe she’d fooled me, too. Maybe everything she’d said tonight on the street had been an act, des
igned to win sympathy. If so, it had worked like a charm. Feeling foolish, I nodded toward the suitcase. “So you left him? For good?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m so angry I can hardly see straight. I can’t even bear to look at him right now.”

  “What about the kids?”

  “They’re home. He can take care of them for a while. Let’s see how much time he has for getting friendly with an old girlfriend while he’s washing dirty underwear and running kids to karate class.”

  I wondered just how much laundry and carpooling Sergio would actually do, but I didn’t dare raise the question aloud. He was in enough trouble as it was. “So where are you going?”

  The corners of Karen’s mouth turned down. “Going?”

  “You’ve left home, and you’re carrying around a suitcase. You must have something planned.”

  “Well, of course I do. I’m staying here with you.”

  “Here?” I uncurled quickly. “Here? But—”

  “You don’t want me?”

  I knew I must look horrified, and I didn’t want to add to her pain, so I shook my head and dug up a smile. “I didn’t say that. It’s just that this place is so small—”

  “It’s not that small. This sofa still makes out into a bed, doesn’t it?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Okay then. There’s plenty of room for the two of us here. Mandy and I lived here for a couple of years before Sergio and I got married, remember? We got along just fine.”

  Yeah, but—but this wasn’t Aunt Grace’s “community” property anymore. It was mine, and I wasn’t sure Karen and I could coexist peacefully in such close quarters. Since my divorce, I’d learned to value this space of my own. I just didn’t know how to say that without sounding selfish or greedy.

  Besides, what kind of horrible person would tell her own cousin that she had to leave at two thirty in the morning? In the dead of winter? Sloshed to the gills? Then again, what kind of cousin showed up at two thirty in the morning?

  A desperate one.

  I couldn’t turn her away. Not tonight, anyway. Swallowing all the reasons for saying no, I scrambled from the couch to gather a pillow and blanket. By the time I came back, Karen had changed into a long flannel nightgown, and she was tugging on the couch, trying to unfold the mattress.