The Chocolate Moose Motive: A Chocoholic Mystery (10 page)

“Honestly!” The interjection came from Nona Reagan. “How anybody could suspect Sissy of being involved in another death! It’s just ridiculous! That girl is the sweetest thing who ever lived. And that little boy is the apple of her eye. All she cares about is taking proper care of him.”

I had the impression that she was going to keep talking indefinitely, but when she paused to take a breath, Joe cut her off at the pass. “Right now, Helen Ferguson’s death looks to have been accidental,” he said. “I’m hoping Sissy won’t be involved any further.”

Nona’s words stopped abruptly, and she stood there with her mouth open. She looked disappointed. Having prepared herself to protect Sissy, she evidently didn’t want to hear that Sissy might not need her protection.

Wildflower followed up on Joe’s remark as smooth as silk. “I’m going to try to get Sissy right to bed,” she said. “Nona, Rosy, I do appreciate your coming over. And I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“We just wanted to warn you, Wildflower. You remember that we had this problem right before Buzz was killed.”

“I understand.” Was there an ironic undertone to the words? I couldn’t tell. In fact, I was quite surprised by Wildflower’s behavior. Where was the blunt speech she’d used that morning?

Rosy Reagan shook hands with Joe again. “I try to keep an eye on these girls,” he said. “It makes me nervous for the two of them to be living out here all alone.”

“We’re not too helpless,” Wildflower said. This time there was a definite edge to her comment.

“Oh, I know! I know! But it’s pretty remote out here.”
Rosy leaned close to Joe and lowered his voice. “And she’s antigun, you know. Won’t even keep a pistol for protection.”

“Rosy, go home!” Wildflower spoke firmly. “We’ve been over that a dozen times. Sissy and I will be cautious, but we don’t need a gun. And now I have to ask Joe and Lee just one question.”

I thought Nosy and Rosy—I was thinking of them that way already—were going to insist on staying to hear what that question was. But they finally started down the porch steps. Each was carrying a large flashlight. They walked off toward the east, both still talking. Apparently they lived close enough to walk over.

Wildflower led us into the house. “I hope Nosy and Rosy don’t ever try to sneak up on anyone. The continual rumble of conversation would tip their quarry off. But they’re right about one thing. When you live out like we do, you have to be alert to what’s going on with your neighbors, as well as with yourself.”

“How did they hear about Helen Ferguson?”

“They were already here when Sissy called. They insisted on staying to ‘help’ me.”

“Oh, dear!” I said.

“I didn’t discourage them. I was afraid I’d need to leave, to go to Sissy’s rescue. And in that case, they would have been willing to stay with Johnny. But they originally came over for quite a different reason.”

She lowered her voice. “I don’t want Sissy to know about it just yet.”

“What happened?”

“Nosy and Rosy think they had a prowler.”

“What happened?”

“Oh, they went to Holland today, and when they came
back, they found strange tracks out by their garage. I wouldn’t take it very seriously, ordinarily.”

“Why not?” Joe asked.

“Because our property and theirs run alongside the Fox Creek Nature Preserve, and people walk along there all the time. Sometimes they stray off the paths. But today…” She stopped.

“Why is this time different?”

“I was gone for a while this afternoon, too. When I came back, I thought some things had been moved around. I think somebody came into our house.”

“Have you called the police?”

“Certainly not! Nothing seems to be missing.”

“Even so, Ms. Hill, breaking in—”

“The door wasn’t locked.”

“Coming into a house uninvited is still a crime. The police—”

“Out here we’re served by that sheriff.”

“I understand that you don’t like Burt Ramsey, but he could investigate. He could take fingerprints. He could talk to the neighbors.”

Wildflower shook her head emphatically. “Nosy and Rosy are the only close neighbors we have.”

“Did you tell them you thought you’d had a break-in?”

“No. They’d make way too much of it. I don’t want to stir them up when nothing was taken.”

“What makes you think anyone came in?”

“Some things have been moved around. For example, I had sorted the mail according to my own method before I left. I stacked it on my desk, and now I think it’s in a different order.”

“Sissy wouldn’t have moved it around?”

“I don’t think so. I put her mail on her desk. She doesn’t usually look at mine.”

“Hey, Grandma.” Sissy appeared at a door that apparently led into a hall.

Wildflower put a finger on her lip to signal silence to Joe and me. She dropped it as she turned toward Sissy.

“Yes?”

“Did you take the MasterCard bill from my desk? It doesn’t seem to be there.”

“No, I didn’t look at your desk.”

“Well, it needs to go in the mail tomorrow. I mean, today.”

Sissy went back through the door. I raised my eyebrows. Joe scowled.

“I definitely think you should report this,” he said.

“I guess you’re right. I’ll call tomorrow.”

Joe kept scowling, and Wildflower spoke again. “The county has only one deputy at night. Unless we have someone breaking in right that moment, he’s not going to come out until tomorrow anyway.”

“You’re probably right. Do you want me to go to the sheriff’s office with you?”

“Don’t you have to go to work in Holland?”

“I could arrange it.”

“No. I’m not a wimp. I’ll call the sheriff myself.”

“All right. But lock your doors and windows, okay?”

Wildflower smiled and promised to secure the house.

As we left, I felt a big bite from my curiosity bug. “If you and Sissy and Johnny all live in this house, what do you use the other house for?”

“Now? For storage, mainly. Sissy and Buzz lived there until he was killed.”

“Oh?” I said. “They lived over there, but Buzz was killed in this house?”

“That’s right.”

“Was it unusual for Buzz to come over here?”

“Not really.” Wildflower smiled. “He and I usually ate lunch together. He’d come over to make our sandwiches. As I said, I don’t usually lock the house up—certainly I wouldn’t lock up if I was just working in the shop. Buzz had the run of the place. He’d come out to the shop and talk, bounce ideas off me.”

She blinked rapidly. I realized that Sissy wasn’t the only person still grieving for Buzz. Hogan had thought Buzz sponged off Sissy and Wildflower, but Wildflower made the four of them sound as if they’d been a happy little family.

I had to blink a few times, too.

Joe asked Wildflower to show him the things she thought were disturbed by the prowler. She said she couldn’t find that anything was gone. Things had simply been moved around.

“Mainly papers,” she said. “Joe, do you honestly think we’re going to get any interest in this from Burt Ramsey?”

“Maybe not, but you need to get it on the record.”

Wildflower didn’t look convinced.

Sissy came out at that moment, holding the bill she’d been looking for. “It had fallen over the back of the desk,” she said. “I don’t know how that could happen.”

We left Wildflower to tell Sissy they’d had a break-in and went home. As soon as we were off the Moose Lodge property, I asked Joe about the burglary.

“Do you think someone broke in?”

“Hard to tell. Since the main things touched seemed to be papers, it could be the breeze blew things around.”

“It doesn’t exactly get breezy down among all those trees. Do you think Burt Ramsey will do anything about it?”

“No.”

On that discouraging note, we stopped talking. By the
time we got home, all the lights and cars were gone from Beech Tree Beach. Helen Ferguson would be gone, too. In our one contact, she hadn’t impressed me with her charm and intelligence, but she didn’t deserve to fall or be pushed down a set of stairs. And Sissy didn’t deserve to be involved in another mysterious death. Or I didn’t think she did.

By the time we left Moose Lodge, it had been well after midnight, so I had told Sissy she didn’t need to come in the next day, but she said she wanted to. We’d agreed that she and I would come in after lunch. Wildflower said she’d bring her, since Sissy’s car was being examined by the state police lab.

Because of this, it was one o’clock when I came in the back door of TenHuis Chocolade and walked into the workroom. I immediately knew something was wrong.

All the hairnet ladies were standing still, frozen in their places. Some had their hands clasped imploringly. Certainly no work was being done.

And the reason was plain. Some man was yelling.

“You’re a slick piece of work! But you’re not fooling anybody!”

The shouts were coming from Sissy’s tiny office. The door was closed, but the noise was so loud that it was coming right through the barrier.

“Don’t think you’re going to get away with this, you little no-good!”

It was Ace. I was sure of it. Sissy’s jerk father-in-law was lambasting her again.

This time he was doing it in my territory.

By golly, he wasn’t going to do that on the premises of TenHuis Chocolade.

I guess I lost my temper completely. I hardly remember
how I got across the workroom. I probably knocked four people out of my way. It was just lucky I wasn’t carrying a gun.

I grabbed the door to Sissy’s office and flung it open. A broad-shouldered man was leaning over Sissy’s desk, punching a finger toward her.

I took one deep breath; then I cut loose.

“Get out of here!” My yelling was louder than his. “You can’t talk to one of my employees that way! Out! Now!”

The man stood rigid, his finger still poking into the air.

“This is unforgettable! I mean, unforgivable!” My tongue had twisted, and I was ranting, and I didn’t even care. “Shut up with the stupid remarks and get your fanny out of my business! Just who do you think you are? Besides the biggest jerk in Warner Pier?”

I guess I paused to draw a breath. And in that instant, the man leaning over Sissy’s desk turned to face me.

I was nose to nose with Burt Ramsey, sheriff of Warner County.

“Oh,” I said. “I thought you were someone else.”

Sissy giggled. Then she leaned back in her chair and guffawed. Peal after peal of laughter rang out.

And in a few seconds, I joined in. I had made a complete fool of myself.

Chocolate Chat

Back in the days when I was wire editor for a daily newspaper, one of the hardest parts of the job for me was learning a new computer system. This happened periodically because the computer company stopped supporting the old system or came up with a new one, and we had to “upgrade.” Then we all knew we were in for several rough weeks. It may have been worse for me, because I have no interest in computers. I regard them as tools, usually tools designed to make my work harder.

Fortunately, Steve, the editor who trained us all to use these infernal machines, had apprenticed with Job. He was incredibly patient, and he actually liked computers.

I was not nearly so patient. After one ninety-minute session, I spoke to him sharply. “Steve, let’s quit for a few minutes! I’ve got to have some M&Ms.”

Steve looked astonished. He was having fun, and the call for a chocolate break seemed to amaze him.

“Come on!” I said. “Don’t you understand how much
chocolate
it takes to learn a new computer system?”

Steve’s patience and chocolate kept my newspaper career going through fifteen years of technical advances. Please don’t tell me chocolate doesn’t fight stress!

Chapter 10

Sissy and I might be in stitches, but the sheriff was not.

He didn’t say anything. After all, what could he say? He just glared at me, then reached over to close the door to the office.

I conquered my laughter enough to speak. “If you think closing that door gives the three of us privacy, you’re wrong. I heard every word you were saying to Sissy as I came in from the alley. Every lady in the chocolate shop was listening with both ears.”