Death By Chocolate 6 (Mystery and Women Sleuths) (Josiah Reynolds Mysteries)
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Authors: Abigail Keam
Death By Chocolate
A Josiah Reynolds Mystery
Abigail Keam
Worker Bee Press
Copyright © Abigail Keam 2013
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author.
The history is true.
The artist is or was a real person, but the art may not be.
The characters are not based on you.
So don’t go around town and brag about it.
Josiah Reynolds does not exist except in the author’s mind.
ISBN 978 0 9893745 5 2
Published in the USA by
Worker Bee Press
P.O. Box 485
Nicholasville, KY 40340
eBooks created by
www.ebookconversion.com
The author wishes to thank Al’s Bar, which consented to be used as a drinking hole for my poetry-writing cop, Kelly, and Morris Book Shop.
www.morrisbookshop.com
Thanks to my editor, Patti De Young.
Thanks to the Lexington Farmers’ Market, which has given me a home for many years.
www.lexingtonfarmersmarket.com
Artwork by Cricket Press
Author’s photograph by Peter Keam
Also by Abigail Keam
The Josiah Reynolds Mystery Series
Death By A HoneyBee I
Death By Drowning II
Death By Bridle III
Death By Bourbon IV
Death By Lotto V
Fantasy
Saga of the de Magela Family
Wall Of Doom I
Wall Of Peril II
Wall Of Glory III
To John and Bunny,
who bought the first book.
Walter Neff was nursing a drink at Al’s Bar on the corner of Sixth and Limestone. He intended to do more than nurse it. He was going to get stinking drunk.
Neff was bitter. He was bitter because he had been cheated out of millions by a dame he liked. It was hard to lose the money, but the money and the woman both? It made him feel like a chump. Neff just hated to come up empty.
His mind raced with a thousand schemes. The money was lost, but maybe he could still have the dame. It was worth a shot.
Anger and jealousy gnawed at him. He knew deep in his heart that the woman was out of his reach.
Neff slammed the bar countertop in frustration with his fist.
“Whoa there, partner,” drawled a handsome blond-haired man. He looked like Tab Hunter. “Got problems?”
“None of your business,
pard-nar
,” sneered Neff.
“That’s where you’re wrong, partner.”
Neff swiveled to get a good look at his companion. “What makes you say so?”
“I would say that we have mutual friends. Perhaps mutual experiences as well?”
“Sure we do, buddy.” Neff turned back on his stool and took another sip of his drink.
The blond man leaned in closer. “I’m very serious. I’m always serious with people who have been burned by a certain redhead.”
Neff faced the younger man and wavered for a moment. “Okay. I’ll throw caution to the wind. What’s your pitch?”
“I know that a woman with red hair and green eyes cost you millions of dollars. Money that is now being wasted on Lexington’s terminally down and out.”
“How do you know that?”
“I make it my business to know. Let’s just say I’ve had previous experiences with the lady in question.”
Neff squinted while tapping his forehead. His mind was fuzzy but still worked when he concentrated. “I know who you are. You’re that loser that went crazy and tried to . . .”
“If I’m a loser, so are you. Perhaps you would like to discuss how to become a winner. You know, revenge is a dish best served cold. I have a plan that will serve it on a platter. Would you like to hear it?”
Neff hesitated for a moment but his anger was stronger that his common sense. “Let's talk where there ain’t so many ears.”
“That’s all right with me. By the way, my name is O’nan. Fred O’nan.”
Neff shook his hand. “I have the feeling that this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
“So do I,” cooed O’nan, studying Neff like a wildcat does a careless rabbit. “So do I.”
In a corner booth at Al’s Bar sat a young woman with short ash blond hair. She was preening into a compact mirror while powdering her nose, which drew attention from the gadget resembling a smart phone recording O’nan and Neff.
When O’nan and Neff left the bar together, the woman nodded to two men sitting at the bar.
Taking their cue, they sauntered out into the street and followed the pair.
Another man immediately scooted into the booth with the woman. “Put eyes and ears in both their apartments. I want each room available. Make sure you tag their cars as well,” she ordered.
“Sure thing, Asa. Cars are already booted,” he said in a thick Cockney accent.
Asa frowned at the use of her name. Her tone turned very chilly. “I want their every movement tracked.”
Getting the message, the man reminded her, “This is gonna cost a bundle, boss.”
“Don’t worry about the money. I’ll take care of everyone. Just do your best.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’ve seen O’nan’s psychological profile. If it were your mother, what would you do?”
“He would already have been neutralized. Made it look like a car accident, ma’am.”
Asa nodded in agreement. She wasn’t ruling that option out.
She threw a twenty on the table and left with her employee.
Outside they parted.
Asa got into a black SUV with government tags and pulled off her wig. “Take me home,” she said to the driver.
“To the airport?”
“Sorry, no. Take me home to the Butterfly. I need to see my mother.”
Before the SUV could take off, the back door was wrenched open.
“What are you doing, Asa?” asked Officer Kelly, leaning in. “I was sitting in the back watching you watching O’nan. Don’t do anything stupid. The city would love to see your mother trip up so they don’t have to pay her the rest of the settlement. And don’t think they don’t know you’re here. There were three other cops at Al’s bar tonight.”
“I must be getting sloppy,” admitted Asa. She smiled sweetly at him.
Kelly’s eyes grew soft. “Asa. Asa.”
Asa leaned forward and kissed Kelly, holding onto him tightly.
He passionately returned her kiss, winding his arms about her. Asa pulled Kelly into the back seat and mouthed to her driver – “GO!”
“Where’re we going?” asked a bewildered Kelly.
“Shut up,” replied Asa tenderly. “Just shut up and kiss me.”
Linc and I were hulling black walnuts for a wedding cake when someone began banging on the front door and ringing the doorbell.
My heart jumped into my throat. I told Linc to take Baby to my bedroom and lock the steel door. He was not to come out until his grandmother, Eunice, told him it was okay.
Linc, thrilled at the prospect of danger, did what he was told with relish.
Baby, thrilled at the prospect of being with Linc, did what the boy commanded and followed happily, especially when Linc promised a treat.
Turning my attention to the front door, I watched Eunice hurry to the security monitors. In addition to the monitors, I had had several panic buttons installed in the house and was sitting next to one, ready to press it, when Eunice exclaimed, “Why it’s Ginny Wheelwright! She looks fit to be tied. You want me to tell her you’re home?”
“She must have news about her boy,” I replied. “Let her in, by all means.”
Eunice had barely opened the steel double door when Ginny barged passed her.
“Josiah. Josiah!” she called, looking in the kitchen.
“I’m over here.”
Ginny looked a mess. Her face was blotchy and her one good eye was red from crying. To make her look totally alien, her glass eye had flipped over, showing only the gold side but then would flip again when she twitched.
I guess my face showed astonishment at her appearance.
“I know I look a mess. Can’t help that.”
“Ginny. They’ve found Dwight’s body?”
“If only. That would give me some peace on the matter. Oh, Josiah. That wife of his has petitioned to have Dwight declared dead.”
“You have to be missing seven years in order to be declared dead.”
“That’s what I thought, but if she can prove extenuating circumstances, then the courts will give an earlier approval.”
“What’s the rush? Dwight’s only been missing five months. Give the detectives a little longer to work the case. Dwight might be stumbling around somewhere with amnesia. It’s been known to happen.”
“That’s what I said, but she said she wanted to get on with her life.”
“Her childhood sweetheart goes missing for only five months and she wants to forget him so soon?”
“My sentiments, exactly. I think it’s awfully cold.”
“What else did she say?”
“She told me to mind my own business.” Ginny began crying again. “My son is my business. Where is he, Josiah? Where can my baby be?”
Ginny blew her nose with a used tissue and then continued lamenting, “And that business partner of his, Farley Webb, has moved all of Dwight’s things out of his office. He just packed them up and took Dwight’s things over to Selena. Then she took his things to Goodwill. It’s like they both are trying to erase my boy.”
Eunice brought a tray of coffee, tea, cookies and a fresh box of tissues. Then she discreetly vamoosed into my bedroom with Linc, giving Ginny some privacy.
I’m not a touchy-feely person. I’m not given to hugs or kisses, but I did reach out and pat Ginny’s hand.
Ginny grabbed it and tugged. “Ya gotta help me, Jo. The investigation’s going nowhere.”
Shaking my head, I said, “NOOO! I’m not going to get involved with issues like this anymore.”
“This isn’t some issue. This is my boy who used to play with your girl right there on that patio. You babysat him. You cooked for him.”
I tried to pull away.
“When Asa went to trial, who was there for you? Me. When Brannon left, so did most of your friends, but I stuck by you. Now it’s payback time. You gotta help me.”
Jumping Jehosaphat!
Why did I have to stick my hand out to her?
I was in no shape physically or emotionally to solve another mystery. That’s what police and shamuses were for. I should have thrown Ginny out right then and there.
Instead, I asked, “What do you want me to do?”