The Chocolate Moose Motive: A Chocoholic Mystery (13 page)

At that moment I felt a vibration in my hip pocket and heard a noise like an old-fashioned telephone. My cell phone was ringing.

I was almost surprised that Moose Lodge had service. There are big areas around the lakeshore that don’t. Inland, coverage improves.

I answered. “Lee Woodyard.”

“It’s Aunt Nettie. A couple of things happened I thought you might want to know about.”

“What now?”

“Hogan came by. First, the medical examiner called with his report.”

“On Helen Ferguson?”

“Right. Hogan says—well, it looks as if somebody hit her in the back of the neck with something. And it probably happened about an hour before she fell down the stairs at the beach. They don’t think the injury is consistent with falling, at least not where she was found.”

“She was murdered?”

“Killed, anyway. You know how Hogan is about using the word ‘murder’ when it might be manslaughter.”

“I guess I’m not too surprised. What was the other thing that happened?”

“It was later. I wasn’t here. Three different ladies have told me the story, so I’m not sure I understand.”

“What, Aunt Nettie? What happened?”

“One of the state police detectives said they had to talk to Sissy again. He took her down to the police station.”

Chapter 12

If I got to the Warner Pier Police Department in one piece, it was because I can drive with my subconscious in charge. I have no memory of running back to my van, or tearing out Wildflower’s drive, or of the fifteen miles to Warner Pier. I returned to consciousness only as I squealed to an illegal stop in a handicapped slot—the only one open—outside the combination city hall and police station in the center of town.

I ran into the station, passed Hogan’s secretary without so much as a nod, and burst through the little swinging gate that tells visitors to stop. It didn’t tell
me
to stop. I kicked that sucker open without hesitating.

And there, with her green eyes wide open in surprise at my precipitous arrival, was Sissy.

She was sitting in an upright chair outside Hogan’s office. Her purse was in her lap, and she had her hands neatly folded.

“Lee?” Her tone was incredulous. “Is something wrong?”

Luckily there was a chair beside her. I fell into it. “Maybe not,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“The state police asked me to make a formal statement about what happened last night.”

I’d gotten all excited about a routine law-enforcement procedure. I began to laugh.

“Why are you here?” Sissy said.

“Gossip again. Aunt Nettie got a third-hand story about your being asked to come down to the police station, and she panicked. Or I panicked.”

“I’m just waiting for the statement to be typed up so I can sign it.” Sissy grinned her impish grin. “I’m glad somebody gives a darn.”

I should have remembered she had to make a statement about finding Helen’s body. Joe might have to make one, too.

I took a deep breath, feeling like a fool. “I can’t influence what happens to you, but I can make sure someone calls a lawyer.”

Before I could say anything else, the door to Hogan’s office opened, and there was a bubble of conversation as three men came out.

“I naturally want to see this cleared up fast,” a deep voice said. “For someone who worked for me to be killed—well, if nothing else, it’s embarrassing.”

Embarrassing? That was a peculiar adjective to apply to a violent death. Who was with Hogan?

I turned my head and saw Ace Smith.

I quickly looked back at Sissy. She nodded to Ace coolly, and Ace stepped toward her as if he was going to speak.

But Hogan intervened. “Sissy,” he said, “you’re next. I’d like to go over your statement with you before you go.”

“Certainly.” Sissy stood up and went into Hogan’s office without flicking an eyelash toward her father-in-law.

Hogan turned toward Ace. “Your statement will be typed up in a few minutes, Colonel Smith.”

“Please call me Ace.”

“Sure. Would you mind waiting until the statement is ready? Then we won’t have to track you down to get it signed.”

Ace nodded, and Hogan turned toward his office. But Ace tapped his arm and led him away from the door. This meant they were standing close to me. Ace spoke in a low voice. “Chief Jones, I know you’re aware of the way people can dodge questions.”

“I’d better be.”

Ace shuffled his feet and looked around the office. Why was he looking so ill at ease? I opened my purse and began to dig around in it, giving what I hoped was an imitation of a woman totally concentrating on her own affairs. In a moment Ace spoke again, this time barely above a whisper, but I could hear him.

“Chief Jones, some law-enforcement officers have underestimated how slick Sissy is.”

Hogan didn’t say anything.

Ace went on. “She’s…well, insidious. Tricky. She has this innocent act that can be very misleading.”

“I’ll be very careful as I question her, Colonel Smith.”

“I’m sure you will.” Ace leaned even closer to Hogan, and his whisper took on an anguished tone. “I found out about her the hard way. She took my son away from me. And then she killed him.”

He turned away, blinking. He sat down across from me, put his elbows on his knees, and stared at the floor. Only a monster wouldn’t have felt sorry for him.

For the first time I believed that Ace Smith actually thought Sissy had killed Buzz. In his eyes she was the person who pulled the trigger. Her alibi, proving she was thirty miles away, meant nothing to him. I understood why he was trying to gain custody of Johnny. No wonder he had lit into Sissy in the grocery store.

Until that moment I hadn’t analyzed why Ace was so
down on Sissy. I guess I had thought it was something simple, such as he didn’t approve of her hippie grandmother or he thought Buzz could have married someone from a more socially prominent family. No, the real reason was much more serious.

I was concentrating so hard as I took all this in that I jumped when someone said my name.

“Lee?” It was Hogan. “Did you need something?”

“No. No, I just had a question for Sissy. I’m leaving now. I’ll be off about my own burglary. I mean, business! My own business.”

Oh ye gods! My twisted tongue had told the world what I was up to. I might as well have announced I was looking into the burglary at Moose Lodge. I hoped I didn’t seem as confused as I felt as I jumped up and ran for the door.

Outside, I stopped. Where was I going? I’d told Aunt Nettie I was taking the afternoon off, so I didn’t need to go to the office. Did I want to return to Moose Lodge and hunt burglars some more? Or was there something else I should be doing?

At any rate, I needed to move my van out of the handicapped slot, the one such spot in a row of eight parking spaces outside city hall. Being the niece by marriage of the police chief wasn’t going to save me from a major fine if Hogan’s patrolman came by and caught me.

I moved toward the row of cars, but a voice stopped me. “Lee? Did you have to make a statement, too?”

I turned and found myself facing Chip.

“So far they haven’t asked for one. I’d be one of the minor witnesses, since I never went down to the beach. I guess you had to make one.”

“I will have to, as you said. But I don’t know anything.”

“Colonel Smith is in there now.”

“I don’t think he knows anything either. He went into Holland for dinner with some people last night. He didn’t get back until after Helen’s body had been found.”

“An alibi. Lucky guy.”

I glanced at my watch even though I didn’t have to be anywhere. “I guess I’d better be on my way.”

Chip nodded. He turned toward the police station, and I moved toward my van. But before Chip could reach the door, Ace Smith came out it. To my surprise, he brushed by Chip and came toward me.

“Young woman, are you Lee Woodyard?”

“Yes.”

“You’re the person who gave Sissy a job.”

“My aunt and I hired her at TenHuis Chocolade.”

He gave me a big friendly smile, but his next remark was not so friendly. “I feel I should warn you that Sissy’s not honest.”

Hmmm. I didn’t know what to say to that one. Ask him to prove it? Or would that just start a big discussion I didn’t want to get into?

But I had to reply. “Don’t worry, Colonel Smith. We have plenty of accounting safeguards in place.”

“Oh, I don’t mean she’d steal. Not money.”

I gave him my own big friendly smile. “We also have limits on how much chocolate employees are permitted to eat.”

His reply was a look of deep sadness. “I see you’re not taking me seriously, Mrs. Woodyard.”

He was apparently determined to go into the matter of Sissy’s employment and her character right there on the street. I could feel my temper rising, and I had a strong desire to tell him to butt out. I looked around. Luckily not too many tourists hang out around the police station, but we weren’t
completely alone. Several groups of people were walking along the sidewalk. But even if we had been alone, the last thing I wanted was a slanging match with a man I’d never even spoken to before in my life.

So I kept smiling. “I don’t think we need to discuss this,” I said. I turned toward the van.

Ace barked out a laugh. “I see you’re a fitting pal for Sissy. A rule breaker. Another conniver.”

He was obviously trying to goad me into making an unwise remark. He was speaking loudly and drawing attention from the others on the street. I wondered if he had selected a public street for this conversation to add to the gossip about Sissy—and to add me to it.

So I didn’t say anything.

But Ace kept talking. “You’re proving that my opinion is right. See, you’ve taken a handicapped parking space. One you have no right to!”

At that, I did turn around and speak. I guess he expected me to act embarrassed. But I had a different question. I kept my voice quiet as I asked it.

“How did you know which vehicle is mine?”

I’d struck home. I was surprised at the shocked look that came over Ace’s face.

I followed up. “I usually park in back of the shop this time of the year. Have you been trolling our alley? Or did you see the van at my house? Were you out there last night when Helen Ferguson fell down the steps at the beach?”

Colonel Ace Smith turned bright red and walked away, headed back into the police station. I realized Chip was standing twenty feet down the curb. He grinned at me, but he didn’t speak. And he didn’t follow Ace inside the station.

I was finally able to get into the van, but, as the motor
turned over, I saw Hogan in front of the police station. He was waving at me.

I rolled the window down and called to him. “I’m moving it!”

Hogan grinned. He walked up to the van, holding a brown paper sack. When he spoke, he used his usual booming bass voice. “I know you don’t usually nab a handicapped slot, Lee. And it’s not Ace Smith’s responsibility to enforce our parking laws around here.”

“You heard all that?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I’m serious about wanting to know how he recognized my van.”

“I’ll ask him. But you do still have that Dallas Cowboys sticker in the back window.”

“But how would he know I’m from Texas?”

“You’re notorious.” Hogan shoved his paper sack toward me.

“What’s this?”

“It’s casting material. I thought you might want to cast a few footprints.”

My jaw nearly hit the steering wheel. Was Hogan telling me he knew I was investigating the burglary? And was he telling me it was all right with him?

He leaned in the window, and his face grew serious. “Be careful,” he said. “Somebody’s playing rough.”

Chapter 13

At least Hogan had made my mind up for me.

I ran by TenHuis Chocolade and scooped an old beat-up metal mixing bowl out of the storage room, several plastic spoons out of the break room, and a couple of bottles of water from the refrigerator. Then I headed east out of Warner Pier. Nosy and Rosy said they had found footprints, and Hogan apparently thought it would be a good thing to have a cast of them.

Not that the cast, made by an amateur detective, would be very good evidence. But even if it wasn’t an official clue, it might give some real investigator a hint.