Chocolate Dipped Death Page 4

  “I hope it’s not too lumpy,” I said as I reached down to help. “It’s a pretty old mattress.”

  She gave another heave, and the bed opened. I wasn’t prepared and nearly lost my balance. “You’ll have to get a new one soon,” Karen said, reaching out a hand to steady me.

  Almost before I could regain my balance, Karen toppled onto her side and let out a deep, satisfied moan. She was definitely settled in. I stuffed the pillow under her head and spread the blanket over her, hoping for the sake of our relationship that she didn’t plan to stay long. Or that I could stay sane if she did.

  I was nowhere near ready to wake up when the phone rang the next morning. Inching open one eye to make sure it was light outside, I rolled onto my side and dragged the comforter over my head to block out the sound.

  It didn’t work. After six irritating rings, I gave up and swam out from beneath the covers. Even through sleep-blurred eyes, I registered that it was six thirty in the morning—way too early to expect coherent conversation, especially after less than four hours’ sleep.

  On the other hand, maybe it was Sergio looking for his missing wife. That thought got me lunging for the receiver. “Wait! Don’t hang up. I’m here.”

  “Abby?”

  I froze, my torso half off the mattress, and tried to place the unfamiliar voice. “Yes?”

  “Miles Horne here. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  Was he serious? I struggled upright against the head-board, pulling the comforter with me. “You’re calling me at six thirty and wondering if you woke me?”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I wanted to catch you before you got busy.”

  “This is Paradise, Miles, not New York. What did you need?”

  “I’d like to talk with you first thing this morning—both Savannah and I would.”

  “It’s not about the contest, is it? Because I really shouldn’t talk to any of the contestants alone.”

  “Understood, but Savannah’s terribly upset over the accusations that woman made against her. She hardly slept a wink all night.”

  It probably wasn’t the contest that kept her awake, but I decided not to say so. Somebody else could clue Miles in on his wife’s late-night activities. “I’m sorry to hear that, but I still—”

  Miles cut me off impatiently. “Don’t you think Savannah deserves a chance to defend herself?”

  “Well, of course she does. I’m just not sure that defending herself is going to be necessary. I’m hoping that Evie’s had a good night’s sleep and plenty of time to rethink her position.”

  “Do you really think that’s going to happen?”

  I sat on the edge of the bed and felt around with my foot for my slippers. Max was used to Karen, but I didn’t know if letting her sleep here would upset his routine. If he’d left any deposits on the floor, I’d rather encounter them with a wad of paper towel and a mop than my bare foot. “Evie’s not an unreasonable woman,” I said. “Once she thinks about what happened last night, she’ll realize that there’s no real evidence that Savannah did anything wrong.”

  “I hope you’re right, but that doesn’t change the facts. The fact is, she accused my wife of cheating in front of a large number of people. Whether or not she rethinks her position, my wife’s reputation has already been damaged.”

  “It would take more than a few accusations from Evie Rice to hurt Savannah’s reputation,” I said. “And I spoke with one of the judges last night. They have no intention of overturning their decision.”

  “Again, I’m glad, but I think you’re missing the point. The point is, that woman owes my wife a public apology, and I intend to see that she delivers.”

  A public apology? From Evie? Never in a million years. She’d die first. Uneasiness settled in my stomach like a stone. “Was this Savannah’s idea?”

  “She agrees with me one hundred percent.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “About demanding a public apology.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Then Savannah had lost her mind, that’s all there was to that. Here I was, praying that we could pretend last night had never happened, and Miles was all set to throw everything into turmoil again. “This trouble between Savannah and Evie goes back a long way, Miles. I don’t think it’s going to be that easy to get Evie to apologize.”

  “I never said it would be easy, but surely you understand why it has to happen.”

  “Frankly, no, I don’t. Everyone knows that tempers were flaring last night, but it wasn’t the first time that’s happened.”

  “So you plan to just sweep the whole thing under the rug?” His tone was sharp and accusing.

  I didn’t react well to it. “Evie might have been on the rampage last night,” I said, letting irritation shave the edges off my tone, too, “but Savannah has done her share over the years to provoke her. If you expect Evie to apologize for last night, she’ll expect Savannah to apologize for some of the things she’s done. This is difficult enough now. Digging up the past will only make it worse.”

  “I’m not concerned about the past,” Miles said.

  “Around here, you’d better be.” When he didn’t back down, I said, “I might be able to arrange a meeting between the two of them—a private meeting. But even that’s a stretch.”

  “Look, Abby, just between you and me, I know that Savannah’s not well-liked here in Paradise. I don’t know why, but I’d have to be dead to miss the looks on people’s faces when she walks into a room. But she is my wife, and she is trying to make things better. I just don’t know how she can do that if people won’t even give her a chance.”

  I thought about the conversation I’d had with Savannah the night before and felt myself thaw slightly. I knew how it felt to be an outsider. If Savannah really did want to make amends, who was I to stand in her way?

  “Just talk to us,” Miles urged. “Give Savannah a chance to explain. That’s all I ask.”

  I must have hesitated, and that was enough to convince him I was weakening. “We can be there in an hour,” he said eagerly. “Savannah’s out jogging right now, but she should be back soon. Half an hour at most. I can head over right now if that’s okay. I’ll just leave her a note to meet me there when she gets back.”

  I resented being railroaded, but I had to consider the contest and the future of Divinity. Both Evie and Savannah were more than capable of causing trouble for the shop—and for me. The only way out of this was to figure out a compromise they could both live with. Maybe I could convince Miles and Savannah to forgo the public apology if I met with them over coffee. Maybe I could convince Evie to stop crying foul. And hey! After that, maybe I could spin straw into gold.

  Impossible as compromise seemed, I had to try. I grimaced at the ratty sweats and oversized T-shirt I’d worn to bed and tried to stall him. “There’s no need to rush. The store doesn’t open until ten. Just wait for Savannah to get back and then come over together.”

  “I’d rather come along now, if that’s all right.” Miles paused, sipped something close to the phone, and set off a strong craving for coffee. “I’d like a few minutes with you before Savannah gets there.”

  I couldn’t imagine why, but I sighed and dug a pair of socks and clean underwear out of my drawer. “All right. Fine.” If I wasn’t too fussy about my appearance, that would be plenty of time.

  After Miles disconnected, I tiptoed to my bedroom door and peered into the living room to see if the phone had woken Karen. Instead of finding my cousin hungover and snoring, I found Max curled up on the sofa bed, his head propped up on Karen’s pillow. He lifted his head at the sound of my footsteps, yawned noisily, and flopped back onto the pillow.

  I checked the kitchen, the bathroom, and even shouted downstairs into the shop, but Karen’s car wasn’t in the parking lot, and I couldn’t see or hear any sign of her anywhere.

  Hoping she’d gone home to work things out with Sergio, I scuffed back down the hall toward my bedroom. I know it sounds incredibly naïve, but for a few minutes
there, I actually thought my luck was changing.

  Chapter 4

  Freshly showered and ready to face the day, I hauled on a clean pair of jeans and my favorite red sweater, then pulled on boots and gloves and led Max down the stairs and outside into the cold. Twenty minutes later, the dog was back in the apartment with a peanut butter doggie pop, and I was standing in the middle of Divinity’s candy kitchen.

  To fortify myself for the meeting with Savannah and Miles, I decided to whip up a batch of Aunt Grace’s Celestial Chocolate French Toast. Even when the world is falling down around you, there’s not much that can stay wrong when you have a plate of golden brown toast stuffed with melted chocolate sitting in front of you.

  I ground shavings from the specialty chocolate we laid in for special occasions, beat together the eggs, milk, sugar, vanilla, and salt, and then layered chocolate between slices of bread, and left them to soak in the egg mixture while I poured my first cup of coffee.

  I spooned in sugar and a dash of creamer, then added two heaping spoonfuls of milk chocolate powder and carried my cup into the shop. Before I could even come up with a strategy for negotiating a compromise, a black BMW pulled up to the curb. Miles Horne stepped out onto the street during a lull in the early morning traffic, glanced around almost nervously, and strode toward the store. He wore a long dress coat over black pants and a black turtleneck, and he moved with that brand of self-confidence that seems to accompany money.

  Reluctantly abandoning my coffee, I unlocked the door and let him inside. He slid past me into the empty store and took a quick look around. Making sure we were alone, or just taking stock of his surroundings? I couldn’t be sure.

  “Thanks for agreeing to talk to me,” he said with a smile that wiped away my uncertainty. “I promise not to take long.”

  I shut the door and locked it again. “I hope you’re not here to ask for preferential treatment. If the other contestants find out you’ve been here, there could be trouble.”

  “Well, then, we just won’t tell them.” Grinning at his own response, he nodded toward my cup. “Do you have any more of that? The heater in that rental car is a piece of crap.”

  “Sure. There’s plenty.” I slipped behind the counter, poured a cup, and grabbed the sugar, creamer, and chocolate, just in case. When I caught a glimpse of the French toast, still soaking in the baking dish, my stomach rumbled. I hadn’t planned on offering the Hornes breakfast, but I wasn’t about to let all that glorious food go to waste.

  While Miles doctored his coffee, I heated the griddle and got to work. Minutes later, I removed the last golden square from the burner, created a pinwheel of triangle-shaped pieces on a serving plate, dusted the whole thing with confectioners’ sugar and chocolate shavings, and carried it to the table.

  “I made more than enough,” I said when Miles looked up in surprise. “Help yourself—unless you’d rather wait for Savannah.”

  He leaned forward, sniffed, and lifted his gaze to meet mine. “Is that chocolate?”

  “What else?”

  His eyes twinkled, and he levered two thick slices onto an empty plate. He took one experimental bite, grinned like a kid in a . . . well, a candy store, and stretched out his legs in front of him. “That’s incredible. Do you serve this here every day?”

  I shook my head. “Comfort food. You were in the right place at the right time.”

  “I’ll say. So why are you stuck way up here in the middle of nowhere? You could really do well with a store like this in, say, downtown Manhattan.”

  “This is where Divinity has always been.”

  “No law that says it has to stay here, is there?”

  “No law,” I said, “but an awful lot of tradition.”

  Miles laughed and forked up another mouthful. “Got it. It was just a suggestion.” He fell silent, concentrated on getting the right amount of cream and sugar into his coffee, then finally treated me to a toothy grin. “Perfect. So why don’t you tell me what’s wrong? You look worried.”

  “Try confused and not quite awake yet.” I sat across from him and moved two slices to my own plate. “I’m not sure what you think I can do for you.”

  “Maybe nothing. We won’t know until we try, eh?” He sipped and set his cup aside. “I’m worried about my wife, Abby. That’s the long and the short of it. Savannah has always acted as if she could take or leave Paradise, but now that we’re here, she’s suddenly consumed with this place and the people in it.”

  That didn’t surprise me as much as it did him. I wolfed down a couple bites of French toast. I would have enjoyed it a lot more if I was relaxed and alone, but it was heavenly even under the circumstances. “I guess the past never really leaves us alone, does it?”

  “The question is, will they put the past behind them?”

  “Some might.”

  “And some won’t.”

  “I can’t say for sure, of course, but why ask me? Savannah and I weren’t even friends when she lived here.”

  He lifted one shoulder and wiped chocolate from the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know. You seem approachable, I guess. I figure you probably know the stories.”

  I paused with my fork halfway to my mouth. “What stories?”

  “About Savannah. Why people hate her.”

  This was why he wanted to see me alone? Not a chance, buddy. “What has she told you?”

  “Not much.”

  “And you want me to fill in the blanks? I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  Because you don’t tell a man that his wife once slept with half the football team, or that she tried to seduce a married teacher, or that everyone suspected her of starting the rumors that got Evie Rice kicked off the cheerleading squad. Not if you have a brain in your head. I shrugged and said, “Because they’re Savannah’s stories to tell.”

  “And I’m her husband.”

  “If she wanted you to know, she would have told you.”

  Miles abandoned his plate and scooted his chair closer to mine. For half a second I thought he intended to grab my hands. He didn’t, but I shifted away anyway.

  “She’s hurting,” he said, “and I don’t know why. I can’t help her unless I do.”

  Nice sentiment, but I still wasn’t interested. “I’m not sure there’s a whole lot you can do. Whatever trouble Savannah has with people here in Paradise, it’s up to her to fix.”

  With a heavy sigh, Miles sat back in his chair and waved one hand expansively. “Look, I’m not trying to rush in on my white steed and fix her world. I just want to know the best way to support her. At least tell me about Delta. I mean, they’re sisters, for heaven’s sake, but they act like strangers when they’re together. What’s that all about?”

  I wish I knew. “I think you’d better ask Savannah or Delta about that.”

  “I have. Neither one will tell me.”

  All the more reason for me to keep my big mouth shut. I started to say so, but he cut me off again.

  “Please, Abby. I’m not asking for all the gory details, but it would help so much to have some idea of what’s going on between the two of them.”

  I shook my head and stood to put some distance between us. “I’m sorry, but I’m not even sure I know the answer to your question. I lived away nearly as long as Savannah has.”

  “Which is another reason I chose you.” He smiled and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You know what it’s like to leave here and then come back. You understand what Savannah is going through. I don’t know who else would.”

  Small towns are wonderful places, but if the doors are shut against you, they’re shut firmly. I understood what Miles was asking, but spilling secrets people didn’t want shared would almost certainly undo all my hard work—permanently.

  I tried to look regretful. “Nobody really knows what goes on inside a family except the people involved. I’m sorry Savannah and Delta don’t want to tell you, but there’s really nothing I can say.”

  “No
thing?”

  I shook my head and broke eye contact. “No. I’m sorry.”

  “So I’m wasting my time?”

  “You are if that’s what you came for.”

  “Well, hell. You can’t blame a guy for trying, huh?” He sopped up a trail of chocolate, wolfed down two more pieces of toast, then sat back with a satisfied groan. “Just what I needed. Thanks.” He glanced at his watch, and his smile drooped. “Is it really eight o’clock already?”

  I nodded. Time flies when you’re . . . whatever. “Yes, why?”

  “Savannah should be here by now.”

  “Maybe she’s still getting ready.”

  He shook his head firmly. “No. She wouldn’t run this long.” He pulled out a cell phone, punched numbers, and waited for an answer. After a minute or two, he disconnected and scowled at the phone in his hand. “That’s odd. There’s no answer.”

  “She’s probably just someplace where she can’t pick up a signal. Service is spotty up here in the mountains.”

  Miles nodded and put the phone away, but worry etched lines above his nose and around his mouth. “Something’s wrong. She should be here by now. Talking with you, working out that apology from Evie was too important to her.”

  I stood and began to gather dishes. “About that—”

  “You think I’m pushy, don’t you?”

  “I think you’re a concerned husband.”

  “Yeah? If only she’d appreciate it, huh?” Laughing at his own joke, he stood and shrugged into his coat. “Look, forget about all of this. It wasn’t fair to put you in the middle, and I shouldn’t have asked.”

  He looked so worried, I tried to console him somehow. “I’m sure Savannah will answer your questions when she’s ready.” I might even have said more, but I caught movement in the corner of my eye and realized that Karen was outside. Unless there had been a miracle in the past six hours, Miles was the last person Karen should see right now. “Try not to worry too much. I know things looked bad last night, but everything’s going to be different today.” I unlocked the door and yanked it open, keeping a careful smile on my face so he wouldn’t guess how much I wanted to get rid of him.