Chocolate Dipped Death (6 page)

“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.”

“Nothing?”

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.

He looked skeptical. “I hope you’re right. I don’t want Savannah upset any more than she is already.”

“None of us do.” I heard the back door rattle and felt the hairs on my neck stand up. “I need to . . . I think I left the stove on,” I said, giving him a none-too-gentle shove toward the street. “I’ll see you this afternoon. And don’t worry. Everything will be all right. I’m sure of it.”

He stared at me as if he’d never seen anyone so rude—and maybe he hadn’t. I didn’t wait around for him to comment but bolted for the back door, still hoping to prevent a disaster. I heard the bell jingle as the door closed, let out a sigh of relief, and tried not to think about what I’d just done.

I’d promised that everything would be all right, but I’d never been less sure of anything in my life.

 

Karen seemed a little unsteady as she came into the kitchen, and her hair was only a little less wild than it had been at two thirty that morning. Her eyes were red-rimmed and shadowed deeply, as if she’d smudged cocoa powder under them. She wore the clothes she’d been wearing when she showed up at my door, but she didn’t have a coat. I was pretty sure she hadn’t been to see Sergio, or she’d have taken more care with her appearance. Or maybe she
had
gone to see him and she’d found something that upset her. I almost didn’t want to ask.

I made myself ask anyway. “What are you doing running around without a coat? It’s freezing out there.”

Karen looked down at her sweater as if she hadn’t noticed that her coat was missing.

“Karen? Are you all right?”

She looked at me sharply, then nodded. “Me? Sure. Why?”

“I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but you look horrible. Where did you go, and what time did you leave? I didn’t even hear the door open.”

Karen tugged her apron from its hook and slipped it over her head as if she expected to wait on customers looking like Medusa on a bad hair day. “I went for a walk. No big deal.”

“You went for a walk at six o’clock in the morning?”

She leveled me with a look. “Is that a crime?”

“No. It’s just that you usually don’t go out for leisurely strolls before the sun comes up. Where did you go?”

Karen picked up several boxes of toffee, then stopped and stared at them as if she didn’t know what they were. “Just out,” she said when she realized I was waiting for an answer. “I needed to think.”

“I thought maybe you’d gone to see Sergio.”

She shook her head. “I wanted to, but I didn’t dare. What if
she
was there?”

Understandable. Sometimes you just don’t want to know. “I don’t think she was,” I said. “I talked to Miles Horne this morning. He said that Savannah didn’t sleep well last night, and she’s out jogging now.”

I felt a tickle of worry when I remembered the fear in Miles’s expression, but the relief in Karen’s wiped it away. An actual spark of life brightened her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“That’s what he said, and he had no reason to lie to me.”

Suddenly shaky, Karen put down the boxes and dropped onto a chair at the table. “How did you find out? Did you call him or something?”

“He called me. He and Savannah wanted a public apology from Evie.”

Karen blurted a laugh. “Are you serious?”

“That’s what he said.”

“And you agreed?”

“Not exactly. I thought maybe I could convince them to change their minds, but it turned out that he really wanted somebody to tell him what Savannah was like when she lived here.”

Karen’s lips curved into a tremulous smile. “And did you?”

“Are you crazy?”

Her smile gained a little strength, but the fingers she dragged through her hair trembled. “Can you believe the nerve of that woman? Demanding an apology from Evie? I’ll bet Savannah
did
cheat last night. It would be just like her. I just can’t figure out why she would.”

“That’s the million dollar question,” I agreed, sitting down across from her. “At least you can relax, knowing that Sergio didn’t spend last night with her. Maybe you should talk to him, Karen. Listen to what he has to say. There might be a perfectly good explanation for what you saw.”

Her smile evaporated, and she speared me with a sour look. “Oh, I’m just sure there will be.”

“Come on, Karen. You know I’m the last person on earth to defend a cheating spouse, and really I don’t know what Savannah is like now. But I do know Sergio, and I can’t believe he would cheat on you.”

“Well, he gave a fair imitation of it last night.”

“Maybe it really was just two old friends sitting at the same table, having a drink and laughing at an old memory.”

Her lips thinned. “Yeah, and I can guess which memory, too. I could have killed her, Abby. I really could have.”

All that anger made me ache inside. “Don’t do this to yourself, Karen. I’ll admit that Savannah’s just about the last person I’d want to see the man I loved with, but you didn’t actually see them doing anything wrong. They were just having a drink in a public place.”

“That’s how it starts.”

“Granted. Sometimes. But you’re acting as if you caught them in bed together or something.”

Karen’s expression froze, and her eyes narrowed. “Oh. I see. You think I’m overreacting.”

“It’s possible, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not.” Her voice was as cold as the air outside.

“It is possible, Karen, and I think you owe it to yourself to find out what was really going on.”

Karen stood unsteadily, knocking over a stack of toffee boxes. “So
you
find your husband with another woman and the whole world stops spinning. I find
mine
with one, and I’m making things up.”

Her reaction threw me. “That’s not what I meant!”

“Oh, no. Of course not.” Karen took a couple of jerky steps toward the door. “Maybe I didn’t run off to the city and make a big, important life for myself. Maybe Aunt Grace didn’t leave the store to me. Maybe I’m just a housewife with a part-time job, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be hurt just as badly as you were.”