Chocolate-Covered Crime (2 page)

“The handsome sheriff ?”

“No, Mae Belle. She’s my wedding planner.”

“Oh. Good luck on that. She hasn’t left a line of happy customers.” The woman waved a hand and continued on her way.

I glanced at my watch. Where could Mae Belle be? Now twenty past the appointed thirty minutes, I admitted to a certain amount of fear. Grabbing my drink and bag, I rose and headed back to A Dream Wedding.

The store still seemed to be full of looky-loos rather than people actually interested in hiring my cousin. The woman behind the register pointed me to Mae Belle’s office. Adopting the same air of annoyance my aunt portrayed earlier, I marched to the office and knocked on the door. Receiving no answer, I turned the knob and stepped heinside.

Lying facedown, legs straight with a sensible black pump missing from one foot, lay Mae Belle. An ornate-handled letter opener protruded from the center of her back.

CHAPTER TWO

Every fiber of my being wanted to rush to my cousin’s side, help her to her feet, and tell her to lay off the dramatics. We weren’t in high school anymore.

I’d seen my fair share of death in the past month or so and messed up enough crime scenes to get myself thrown in jail for a night, so I knew not to touch anything. But I had to check. I knelt beside her and felt for a pulse in her neck. A moan escaped her. Ripples of warm air brushed against my wrist. I scuttled backward and screamed.

Mae Belle’s secretary/receptionist, a big-boned girl by the name of Sherry, waddled into the office and speared me with an emerald green gaze. “What did you do?”

“Instead of accusing me, you need to call the police. And an ambulance.” I pulled free a strand of hair stuck to the corner of Mae Belle’s mouth. She was pale, and crimson spread beneath her and stained the rose-colored rug. “Mae Belle. Can you hear me?”

She groaned again. Since Sherry still hadn’t moved, I stretched my arm to grab the phone from the desk and dialed 911. The other woman still glared at me. Keeping my gaze focused on her unfriendly one, I reported the scene around me then held the receiver to my shoulder. “What are you staring at?” I hissed and pressed the phone against me to prevent the operator from hearing.

“There’s destruction and death everywhere you go. I’ve read the papers. I know all about you and your attempts at crime solving. Things too slow around here for you? Trying to drum up some excitement?” Sherry spit the words at me. “Now, here’s my boss of two days lying on the floor. Do you know how long it took for me to find this job? Nobody is going to mess that up for me.”

“Why would I. . .” A voice shouted for my attention, and I put the receiver back to my ear. “Yes, I’m still here. I won’t hang up. Yes, she’s still breathing—barely—but there’s a lot of blood.”

My cell phone rang. One glance showed the chief of police’s number, my cousin Joe. Grimacing and offering apologies to the 911 operator, I answered it with my free hand. “I haven’t touched anything.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, I did feel Maicee Belle’s neck to see if she was alive. She is. Oh, and I called from the office phone. Sorry. I didn’t think to use my cell phone. I’m a little stressed right now. Plus, the desk was right there. Okay, so you know my fingerprints are on it. That shouldn’t complicate things too much. Wait a minute. How did you know I was here?”

“April told me earlier that you had an appointment. We heard the call come through. I put two and two together. Besides, you’re drawn to trouble. We’re on our way. Keep on not touching anything.”
Click
.

Joe always was a man of few words. After slipping my cell phone back into my purse, I switched my attention back to dispatch. The woman droned on about CPR and how to staunch the blood flow.

Horror
. “I’m not sure I should flip her on her back with something stuck there. Should I pull it out?” Please say no. The operator coaxed me on what to do, just in case, and to definitely not pull out the letter opener. My heart rate returned to normal. Sherry still stood nearby, as worthless as a chewed wad of gum.

“Get something to slow down the bleeding,” I ordered.

Her eyes grew to the size of half dollars. “I don’t do blood.”

Good grief
. Could I threaten to press charges for not assisting in trying to save someone’s life? I glanced at my cousin. “Hang on, Mae Belle. You can’t die. We’ve got a wedding to plan.” Sirens wailed outside the building. “Help is here.” I hung up on the dispatch operator and leaned against the desk for support.

During a crisis, I’m okay. Afterward, it all catches up to me. My skin grew clammy, my hands shook, and spots danced before my eyes. I watched the paramedics through tunnel vision.

“What’s wrong with you?” Chief of police and man of compassion, Cousin Joe peered at me. “You aren’t going to faint, are you? One semiconscious body is all we can handle at a time.”

“I’m. . .” Peeking from beneath the desk pad was what appeared to be Mae Belle’s appointment book. I turned to face Joe, hiding the desk behind my back. I bet her attempted murderer was in that book. Amazing how the promise of another exciting mystery made me feel better. “I’m fine. Just woozy for a second. Thanks for being concerned.”

“Right.” He rushed off to do whatever it is he does and called over his shoulder, “don’t go anywhere.”

Sherry leaned against the wall, her eyes shooting daggers at me, as another officer took her statement. Her antagonistic attitude wore on me.
Death and destruction wherever I go?
That was just mean. When the officer finished with Miss Congeniality, he moved to me.

“Name?”

“You know my name, Duane. We went to school together.” I crossed my arms. He raised his eyebrows at me. “Fine. Summer Meadows.”

“Business being here?”

“Planning a wedding.”
Obvious, wasn’t it?

“You found the victim?”

“Yes.” I quickly added that I didn’t touch anything. Not being new to crime solving, I filled him in on everything I knew, except the date book. I’d turn it in once I had a chance to look through its pages. Joe would be livid, but he’d get over it. He’d been threatening for years to transfer to any town where I didn’t live.

“So you were the last one to see Mae Belle before her attack?”

“No, the person who tried to kill her was.” I didn’t like the direction Duane’s questions headed. What did Sherry mention to him? “Mae Belle acted nervous all morning. She wanted to tell me something, and we set up a time to meet at Grandma’s Story Corner. Mae Belle never showed. I came to check on her, found her on the floor, and called 911. That’s it. What did Sherry tell you?”

“What are you leaving out?” Duane peered at me from beneath his lowered brow.

“What do you mean?”

“Joe warned me about you withholding information.”

“Not this time.” I vowed to get even. How dare Joe accuse me of not telling him everything? The appointment book didn’t count, did it? Since I couldn’t be sure it even pertained to the morning’s events.

“Uh-huh.” Did the guy take lessons from my cousin in the disbelief department? He snapped his notebook closed. “We’ll be in touch if we have any further questions. You aren’t leaving town, are you?”

“Not until my honeymoon.” They wouldn’t prevent me from going, would they? Bora Bora called my name, etching my new initials in its white sand. The sun sang its promises of sunburn. The waves chanted their rising and falling melodies. Remorse flooded through me.
Mae Belle may be dying, and I’m concerned about getting married
. Good thing no one could read my mind.

Paramedics wheeled her past me. Her eyelids fluttered as weak as a stunned moth. I prayed for her recovery. She wasn’t strong. Tall and thin as the wildflowers that grew alongside Highway 64 in the spring. Okay, maybe she’d be stronger than she looked. Those wildflowers were almost impossible to kill. Especially when they took root among hopeful prize-winning rosebushes.

“Wait.” I grabbed the stretcher and stopped it before bending low to whisper in Mae Belle’s ear. “Don’t worry. We’ll find out who did this to you. I promise. You just get better so you can tell me.” Releasing the rail, I stood and

 
locked eyes with Joe.

“Summer, I’m warning you.”

“What?” I did my best to appear as innocent as possible. The wide-eyed look always worked in the movies.

He marched to my side, grabbed my elbow, too roughly for my taste—I knew there’d be bruises—then pulled me into a corner. “You are
not
going to get involved in this. You are
not
the crime solver you think you are. You did
not
solve the past mysteries of this year with any skill. Stumbling onto them, and being lucky enough to remain alive, doesn’t make you a detective. And I’m tired of saving your life.”

“Sorry, Mr. Big Cop-Man, but I completely solved them on sheer brain power. And just because you’re my cousin doesn’t mean you can jerk me around. Ever hear of police brutality? It would be embarrassing for you if I filed a complaint, now wouldn’t it?”

So what if I’d managed to get myself locked in a trunk. My double-jointedness saved me then. Being smart and keeping my cool got me out of the carnival fun house. What about the two gorillas? Or the overfriendly elephant, Ginger? Joe had no idea what he was talking about.

“Add tips from that stupid Dolt book you bought a few months ago, and you have the scope of your investigative training.” Joe shook his head. “Summer, you just happen to be lucky. But luck runs out.” He slapped his hat on his head. “Stay out of it, and leave this room. The crime scene investigators have a job to do.”

“Let me get my bag, and I’ll leave.” Once Joe turned his back, I snatched the appointment book off the desk, dropped it into the tote bag containing my wedding information, and sashayed out of A Dream Wedding with what I was sure was a Cheshire cat–type grin splitting my cheeks.

Miss Merry Sherry shooed Mae Belle’s prospective customers from the sidewalk in front of the shop and handed a large, ornate brass key to a man in a navy vinyl jacket. With a final glare at me, she sidled sideways through the throng of investigators, slipped past the crime scene tape, then headed down Main Street. I followed.

She passed my store, Summer Confections, and I waved through the window at Aunt Eunice. She threw her hands up as if to say, “What are you doing?” I grinned and continued to slink along behind my prey like a secret agent.

Sherry turned to look over her shoulder. I ducked into an alley, ran straight into a Dumpster, grabbed my aching forehead, then landed smack on my behind in a puddle of oily water, ruining my new pair of studded blue jeans and twisting my ankle. This was definitely the norm for my crime solving.

Soaking wet and miserable.