Cream of Sweet (Chocolate Cozy Mystery Book 1) Read online

  Olivia’s stomach joggled around. “A P.I.? That could be very useful.” She was the kind of woman who solved problems, not created them, and she’d run her chocolate shop in just the same way. She simply couldn’t allow anything to jeopardize it. After losing her husband, and her son’s recent move off to college, she didn’t have much left but her gorgeous store and her passion for making chocolate.

  “Yes, he’s a wonderful guy,” Alberta continued, fluttering her eyelashes. “Simply wonderful.”

  “Oh, wait a second, this isn’t another attempt to get me to go on a date, is it?” Olivia pursed her lips, but there wasn’t any real heat behind her gaze. Her A’s were always willing to help; they meant well, and even if Alberta had ulterior motives, her heart was definitely in the right place.

  “Here he is now,” Alberta said, clasping Olivia’s arm and directing her towards the front door. A man strode into the store, wearing a trench coat to guard against nippy weather. He had light brown hair, flecked with grey, and kind green eyes. He spotted Alberta and gave a friendly wave.

  “Hey there, Albie,” he said. “I came as soon as I could.”

  “Fantastic, you’re right on time,” Alberta replied and nudged Olivia towards the investigator. “This is Olivia Cloud, my employer. She’s in a bit of a sticky spot, and I’d really appreciate it if you could help her out.”

  The man smiled at Olivia, and her heart gave a reluctant flutter. Her cheeks colored, and she had to distract herself by patting Dodger—who’d appeared to sniff at the new guy—to hide the blush.

  This reaction wasn’t like her at all. He was a handsome man, though, to be fair.

  “Hi,” he said and extended a hand. “I’m Jake Morgan.”

  She straightened and took the handshake. “Olivia Cloud,” she said, “and this here is Dodger.”

  Dodger wagged his tail and barked loudly. A few of the customers looked up, but none of them seemed bothered by the noise.

  “Here, I’ll take Dodger for a walk,” Alberta volunteered, then patted Olivia on the back. “You two get better acquainted.” And then she bustled out, taking the excitable Labrador with her.

  Olivia cleared her throat at the exact same moment Jake did.

  “Why don’t we sit down?” she suggested, hoping to alleviate the awkwardness. Alberta clearly saw this as a potential date rather than a helpful business meeting, but that didn’t mean Olivia did. Or that Jake did, for that matter.

  They seated themselves at a table at the front of the store, and Alphonsine brought them coffees a few minutes later. Jake stirred in an insane amount of sugar and creamer, then drank deeply from the mug and sighed.

  “Alberta mentioned the murder.”

  “So you know that I’m a suspect in the Lizzy Couture case?” Olivia asked. News sure travelled fast in Chester.

  “Yes. I was there when she keeled over. Horrible scene, really, but it’s an unfortunate fact that she did die after eating one of the drops from your shop.” He examined his coffee with a hint of suspicion, then shook his head rapidly. “There’s no evidence, of course, to suggest that the drop was poisoned by you or your assistants.”

  “Of course not,” Olivia replied, “because that simply didn’t happen.”

  Jake nodded and pursed his lips. “Olivia, I’ve worked closely with the police on a few cases. Sometimes they need an outside contractor to investigate specific leads, and they turn to me because I can work in ways they can’t, and also because I’ve been doing this work for a very long time.”

  “Right,” she said, and her brow went crinkly. What did this have to do with Lizzy’s murder?

  “Yes, right, so there’s no reason they would reveal all the evidence to you if you’re a suspect. They likely didn’t tell you that they found a vial of arsenic on the scene, just behind the table where your chocolates were laid out.”

  “The detective certainly didn’t mention that.” Olivia hadn’t touched her coffee.

  “It appears that someone poisoned the drop Lizzy ate and handed it to her,” Jake said, pushing his empty coffee cup aside. “A couple of hours later, she collapsed. That’s my deduction, anyway.”

  “That means it has to be someone she knew very well. Obviously she wouldn’t accept candy from a complete stranger,” Olivia said, and scratched the apple of her cheek.

  “Lizzy had a lot of enemies, I take it,” Jake sniffed. “On the few occasions I met with her, she was rather unpleasant.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” Olivia replied, “but it means the list of suspects in this case will be nearly endless.”

  Jake shook his head. “That should be the case, but it’s not. The police have narrowed it down to those who argued with Lizzy at the town square, which includes you, Jana Jujube, and Kinks McGee… but they have their sights set on you because it was your chocolate that killed her.”

  Olivia sighed and rubbed at her eyes.

  “Don’t worry,” Jake said. “I’ll help you get to the bottom of this, if you’ll let me.”

  Olivia nodded. “All right, you’re hired. I think we should meet here tomorrow morning, bright and early, and start interviewing some of the suspects.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to handle it on my own?”

  Olivia tapped her chin and considered it, then swept her finger into the air. “No, I want to be involved.” She glanced around at her customers, the cozy décor, and the glass cabinet displaying chocolate truffles and a ganache-covered cake. “This is my business on the line.”

  Chapter Four

  Olivia stood outside Block-a-Choc with Dodger, who was wriggling on the end of his leash. She checked her watch, then tapped her foot on the concrete sidewalk. Jake was twenty minutes late for their meeting, and tardiness was an attribute she truly couldn’t abide.

  She shuffled around in her flat pumps, then glanced down at her dog.

  The yellow Lab made puppy-dog eyes at her and waggled some more.

  “All right, all right. Let’s take a walk around the block while we wait.” The boy loved his daily walks; she surely couldn’t deprive him of them.

  They set off down the street, smiling at a few passersby walking their own dogs or heading off to work. It was early morning, and the sun had just broken the horizon, casting rays of warmth along the ground and a warm, golden hue in the sky.

  Olivia couldn’t help but smile, Jake’s tardiness and the case aside. What a lovely morning in Chester. If it hadn’t been for the murder, this would’ve been a perfect day.

  She rounded the corner, tugged along by Dodger’s excitement, and raised an eyebrow.

  Kinks McGee, the local carpenter, bustled around in his workshop across the road. He wore overalls and a checked shirt, both covered in sawdust. He had a long plank of wood laid out on a table with a sanding tool nearby.

  Olivia had no idea what any of the tools were called, but she did know that Kinks McGee had been one of the people who’d fought with Lizzy Couture before her death. If there were anyone with a motive, it was Kinks. The whole town had heard about their arguments, and hadn’t Lizzy written a snarky piece on him in the local paper?

  “Come on, Dodgy,” Olivia said. She checked both ways, then crossed the street.

  The lab bounded ahead of her, whipping the leash around in her hand.

  They reached the carpentry workshop, and Olivia rapped her knuckles on the door frame. “Hello there,” she called out and grinned broadly.

  Kinks looked up at her and nodded. “G’day. What can I do for ye on this fine mornin’?”

  Dodger tugged on the leash, and she unclipped him from it so he could do a bit of innocent exploring.

  “I hoped to have a chat with you, Kinks.”

  “You’re the new lady, that owns that, er, that chocolate place round the corner?”

  “That’s right.” She didn’t bother telling him that she wasn’t new, that she’d been around for a few years. In Chester, though, a few years didn’t qualify as anything other than ‘ou
tsider’.

  “An’ what is it you want ter talk about?” Kinks wiped sweat off his forehead, then bent over his plank again.

  Olivia watched him with interest. Dodger snuffled around her feet and sneezed in the sawdust.

  “You heard about Lizzy Couture, I guess?” Olivia asked. This whole interview-the-suspect thing wasn’t easy.

  The carpenter froze mid-movement. He looked up at her and narrowed his eyes. “What you askin’ for?”

  “Oh, no reason, just that I heard you had an argument with her. Don’t worry, I did, too. She was in a pretty bad mood the other day, am I right?” She gave an awkward chuckle.

  Dodger barked and squished his body between two piles of lumber. Olivia didn’t pay attention to him; the wood creaked and wobbled.

  “I got nothin’ ter say ter you.”

  Kinks’ certainly had that local twang.

  “I’m not trying to upset you or anything, Kinks, I’ve been asking around because I think it’s important to get to the bottom of Lizzy’s murder. She was an important person in Chester,” Olivia said, tilting her head to one side.

  “I said I got nothin’ ter say ter you!” Kinks yelled.

  Dodger barked at him and squished himself out from between the wood piles. One of them tilted, wobbled, and toppled to the workshop’s concrete floor.

  “Dodger!” Olivia hissed. The dog hurried over to her, and she clipped his leash on right away. She wouldn’t be letting him off it any time soon, that was for sure.

  “Get out!” Kinks said.

  Olivia turned and walked out of the shop, her stomach rumbling from nerves. She despised conflict of any kind, but that had been necessary. She had to know who the killer was, and Kinks had been at the receiving end of Lizzy’s screams more often than she had.

  Dodger walked alongside her, his paws pattering on the sidewalk. They stopped to check both ways before crossing the road, and she took the opportunity to scold her oversized puppy.

  “You’re incorrigible, Dodger. I’m never letting you off this leash again, I swear.”

  He turned his big brown eyes on her and blinked innocently.

  She couldn’t help ruffling the soft fur between his ears. He wagged his tail in response and gave another goofy bark. She could never stay mad at him.

  “Wait!” A man called out behind her.

  Olivia frowned and looked back.

  Kinks shuffled out of his workshop, mopping sweat off his face with a stained handkerchief. “Wait a sec,” he said, and caught up to her, his cheeks puffing from the exertion of running a few feet.

  “Yes?” Olivia asked, and nudged Dodger with her toe to get him to sit down and keep quiet. He ignored her, of course.

  “You got ter unnerstand. I ain’t never hurt a fly. I didn’t like her, no, but I wouldn’t hurt her, not her, not anybody else. It’s not in me, understand?” Kinks wrung the sweaty rag out, and a few drops fell to the sidewalk.

  Olivia eyed them, then looked up at Kinks. “I understand. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I don’t like the idea of a murderer running around in Chester.”

  “Yeah, me neither.” Kinks replied, but his eyes darkened again. He glanced past her, to the other side of the road, then turned on his heel and hurried back to his sawdust-strewn workshop.

  Olivia turned to look at what had spooked him.

  Jake stood across the road. He gave a wave and smiled broadly. “Sorry, I’m late,” he called out. “I have news, though. Trust me when I say you’re going to want to hear this.”

  Olivia’s tummy did a flip. “What is it?”

  Jake glanced up and down the road, then craned his neck and spied Kinks in the background. “I think it’s better if we discuss this in private.”

  Dodger practically dragged Olivia across the road. They’d lived in a big city once, after all, and he was used to safe crossings. They hurried along the sidewalk, the two humans walking side by side in silence, and Dodger rushing on ahead as far as his leash would allow, until they reached the Block-a-Choc Shoppe.

  Chapter Five

  A plate of Irish coffee truffles and two steaming mugs of coffee sat before them.

  Dodger had retired, thankfully, to his doggy bed upstairs, which was just fine by Olivia. He’d exhausted her on their morning walk, Kinks McGee’s colloquialisms aside.

  “You’re late,” Olivia said, but she offered him the chocolates, nudging the plate in his direction.

  That had been Olivia’s mother’s favorite answer to all problems—a plate of chocolates, nudged towards her after a hard day at school. How she’d kept her figure all these years was a miracle.

  Jake took a chocolate and popped it into his mouth. He sucked on it and grunted his appreciation. “If you don’t make it in this town with these chocolates, then there’s something wrong with this world.”

  The shop was a little quiet that morning. Usually the regulars streamed in for a cup of the strong stuff and a handful of chocolates in a variety of flavors. Strawberry mousse swirls were a favorite and were normally sold out by ten a.m., but today was slow.

  The murder of the famous—or infamous—Lizzy Couture had clearly put a damper on the spirits of the local residents.

  “My fingers are crossed. The Fall Festival has to go on, right?”

  “Absolutely,” Jake said, but he didn’t sound so sure. He slipped a brown folder onto the table, then removed a single sheet of paper from it.

  Olivia nodded at it. “Is that the news you mentioned?”

  “Yeah,” Jake said and sucked on another chocolate. He licked his lips and smeared a bit of it across them. “I think you’ll find it really enlightening. It’s the print-out of an email. Read it.”

  Olivia took the piece of paper and scanned it. Her heart did a flip-flop, and she read the words more slowly the second time around.

  Ernest,

  You will regret this for the rest of your life. If you don’t give me what I want, I will destroy everything you love.

  Lizzy

  Only a few lines of text, and the hair on the back of Olivia’s neck had stood on end. “Ernest,” she mumbled.

  “Yes, that’s Ernest Dennison. The businessman? You’ve probably heard of him; he’s quite rich, recently got divorced.”

  “Where did you get this?” Olivia asked.

  “Contact in the force. But it looks like a solid lead to me. Lizzy clearly had an issue with Ernest, and I’m pretty sure she published an article about him a while back. I remember there was a big fuss about it,” Jake said. “Something to do with his wife.”

  Olivia slurped down her coffee, then rose. “What are we waiting for?”

  Jake stopped with a chocolate halfway to his mouth. “Huh?”

  “Let’s go interview him.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Jake replied, still holding an Irish coffee truffle between two fingers. “We can’t just barge in and—”

  “Why not? He’s a lead.”

  “Maybe you should let me handle this, Olivia. You’ve got other responsibilities right now.” The chocolate had now begun to melt.

  “Oh, don’t worry about that. The three A’s will take care of it,” she said, gesturing to Alvira behind the counter.

  The young woman gave a shy wave and was joined by Alphonsine, who whispered something behind her hand. Both women giggled and waved.

  “What?” Jake whispered, the chocolate dripping from his fingers onto the table top.

  “Are you coming?” Olivia called, already half way to the door of her shop.

  “Hey, wait a minute.” Jake stuffed the chocolate into his mouth and chased it with some coffee. He shuffled the print-out back into the file, tucked it under his arm, and raced after her.

  Olivia opened the door and strode out onto the street. She spun in a full circle, then frowned. “I don’t know where his offices are,” she said, then blushed. Perhaps she hadn’t thought this through, after all.

  Jake stopped beside her. “I know th
e way. Are you sure you want to—?”

  “Of course,” she replied and flashed him her brightest smile.

  A few minutes later, they arrived outside Ernest Dennison’s building, the tallest one in Chester. His offices were right at the top, or so the sign beside the elevator said. They went all the way up and waited twenty minutes for an appointment. The receptionist kept eying them over her magazine, probably because she’d heard about Olivia’s and Lizzy’s disagreement.

  She eventually showed them into Ernest’s office, where they had to wait another five minutes before he deigned to seat himself across from them.

  He had laugh lines around his mouth, a thick mop of dark brown hair, a wide jaw, and dimples in his cheeks. He was young and handsome for all intents and purposes.

  “Well, hello, how can I help you?”

  “Hi,” Olivia said and grinned, “I’m Olivia, and this is my assistant, Jake.”

  “I’m a private investigator,” Jake corrected, raising a finger, “not her assistant.”

  Olivia rolled her eyes. “We’ve come to ask you a few questions about your relationship with Lizzy Couture.”

  “You’re not police,” Ernest said and smoothed his palms over the broad walnut desk.

  “No, we’re not officers.” Jake said.

  “We’re investigating the case in our personal capacity,” Olivia said.

  “I see,” Ernest said. “So why should I answer any of your questions?”

  “Uh…” Jake replied unhelpfully.

  Olivia clicked her tongue. She snatched the brown folder from Jake’s lap and slapped it on the table. She was a notorious straight-talker, and that instance was no different. “Because we have a transcript of this email, and so do the police. And if they have this, it means you’re a suspect, and we’re the only ones who can prove you’re innocent.”

  Ernest took the paper from the folder and scanned it. His expression remained blank. He looked up at Olivia, nodding slowly. “You’re not the usual kind of woman.”

  “There’s not a level on which I don’t find that offensive, but I’m willing to look past it,” Olivia sighed. “What do you have to say about this?”