The Diva Steals a Chocolate Kiss (21 page)

Dear Natasha,

My sister’s mother-in-law (note that I am
not
the one who married into this family) made a huge fuss about someone confusing chocolate liqueur with chocolate liquor. What’s the difference? I don’t want to be caught in her web of derision.

—Thankful I’m Not in That Family in Bliss, Idaho

Dear Thankful,

Chocolate liquor is what you get when you grind cocoa beans. In its hardened state, it’s called unsweetened chocolate. It’s the basis of all chocolate. Chocolate liqueur (note the e and extra
u
) is chocolate-flavored alcohol.

—Sophie

A large hand muffled my scream. I kicked backward but that didn’t work well at all. I made contact with my assailant’s legs, but I didn’t think I was hurting him. One arm had
a solid grip around my abdomen and right arm. I jabbed my left elbow into him over and over again. Why didn’t I wear pointy five-inch heels like Natasha?

I hardly had time to fight him. In a matter of seconds, he lifted me and carried me a few feet. I heard a car door open.

I was going to die.

I had no control over anything. I saw the van door and did the only thing I could. I bit down hard on the hand that covered my mouth.

My assailant grunted but didn’t let go. He swung me into the van and the door closed.

“Quiet, you two!”

My eyes adjusted to the darkness far too slowly. I sought to make out the person who spoke.

A familiar voice whispered calmly into my ear. “Thanks for biting me. I hope you had your rabies shot. I can let you go if you promise not to scream. Everything’s going to be okay, Sophie. You just had the bad luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Wolf!
What the blazes was Wolf doing grabbing me off the street like that?

He loosened his grip tentatively as though he was testing me. When he dropped his hand, I turned my head to be sure it was Wolf.

“You drew blood!” he hissed.

Deeper in the van, I could make out two men with earphones and what appeared to be recording devices.

Wolf leaned over and whispered, “It’s a sting. You nearly gave us away.”

My heart still thundered. “You could give a person a heart attack!”

“Sorry. We had to move fast. I couldn’t risk an argument on the street.”

“I wouldn’t have done that.”

“Not much, you wouldn’t.”

Okay. Wolf was right. I would have demanded information about what was going on.

“Who are you after?”

“Mitch.”

“I knew it!” I hissed the words loud enough for the guys with earphones to turn and shush me. “I never trusted that man. He murdered Arnaud?”

Wolf shifted closer to me and whispered so close to my ear that I could feel the heat of his breath. “He’s been pulling some stunts at Amore.”

Mitch’s voice came through a speaker. A little crackly but understandable.

“I need you to locate Marla and bring her back. My best guess is that she’s at her mother’s house in Philly or at their family cabin in the Poconos. Here are the addresses. Take this along with you as a little gift to let her know there are no hard feelings, and we’d like her to come back.”

“How do you know she’s not dead?” Vince’s lisp left no doubt that he was the other speaker.

“I went to her apartment. She took her cat with her. If someone killed her, I don’t think he would have bothered with the stinkin’ cat.”

“You broke in?”

“I have a key.”

“What if she doesn’t want to come?”

“Then tell her I know who killed Randy.”

“You?”

“Don’t be stupid. I never killed anyone in my life.”

“What about the old man?”

“Joe? Don’t you be worrying about him. He won’t be back. I’m in charge now.” He chuckled. “Have been for years.”

“But your wife—”

“Let me give you two pieces of advice. One, don’t ask so many questions. Just do as you’re told, and we’ll get along fine. And two, nothing better happen to my wife. We need
Coco. Too many bad things happening in this company. It’s time to put our best face forward again, and that’s Coco. But don’t tell Marla I said that.”

I felt Wolf’s entire frame sag with disappointment behind me. Not only had Mitch not admitted to anything, he’d outright denied being responsible for the murders.

They didn’t let me out of the van until they had driven away. Five blocks from my house, they pulled into an alley and opened the back door. Wolf had warned me it would be quick. It was. A moment later, I stood by myself, pondering the things Mitch had said. If he knew what had happened to Joe and who had killed Randy, then why wouldn’t the police take him in for questioning? For all I knew, maybe they had.

But if that were the case, the police would know the identity of Randy’s killer. Clearly they didn’t, or they would have made an arrest.

I rounded the corner of the alley and walked up the street. I would have to ask Alex. In a discreet way, so he wouldn’t know what I had heard. I bet it had something to do with evidence. Maybe they just didn’t have the evidence to support a murder charge. Certainly not against Mitch. It sounded like his hands were clean as white lilies.

So Vince had been a police plant all along. Who’d have thought that? The long ponytail, the lisp when he spoke, the baseball cap—I never would have pegged him as a cop.

I heard brakes squeal before I realized what was happening. A cat scampered across the street in the nick of time. The driver shook his head, rolled down his window and yelled, “Hey, lady! You better get your cat inside.” He drove off too fast for Old Town’s streets.

The cat ran along the sidewalk at a good clip. “Here, kitty, kitty,” I called. He ignored me and kept going. Right back to the stoop where I’d seen him before.

I caught up to him and picked him up, ready to grab the scruff of his neck if he should turn on me. He purred.

I wasn’t in the habit of snatching cats, but I truly thought he was the Merano’s missing cat, Bacio. I checked for a collar but he wasn’t wearing one.

Just to be on the safe side, I knocked on the door. No one answered. I tried again. Still no response.

It was worth a try taking him home. If he wasn’t Bacio, the Meranos would tell me, and I could bring him right back. Still, I felt a little bit guilty for grabbing him off the stoop and carrying him away.

I headed for Joe’s house and hoped Coco wouldn’t be there.

Bacio weighed a lot more than I expected. I paused a couple of times to catch my breath but didn’t dare put him down on the sidewalk.

It seemed an eternity, but we finally made it to Joe’s front door. I rang the bell. It was far too late for visiting but these were exceptional circumstances, and I hoped they would understand.

Nonni opened the door, clapped her hands against the sides of her face, and cooed, “Bacio! My Bacio!”

I stepped inside the house and shut the door before placing him on the floor. He wound around Nonni’s ankles, marking her as his.

“Where you find him?”

“A few blocks away. He was almost hit by a car, Nonni.”

“Bacio, you bad boy!” she scolded. “What you doing in the streets?” But she bent to stroke his head, and he obviously wanted more.

“He stay in house from now on. He never leave the garden before. Bacio, where is your collar?”

“Who is it, Nonni?” called a male voice.

Dan sauntered toward us. “Bacio!” Dan swung him up in his arms. “We’ve missed you around here, old pal.”

But his tone grew cold. “Did
you
bring him home?”

Something was definitely wrong. “Yes. I thought I recognized him.”

His mouth twitched to the side. “Thank you.” He swung the door open and waited, the implicit meaning that I was to leave.

“Dan! You don’t be rude to our guest. Come, Sofia, have something to eat.”

“No, Nonni!” Dan protested.

“Is Coco here? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset anyone.”

“It’s too late for that. Nonni told us that she asked you to look into who murdered Arnaud.” Dan still held the giant cat, but his glare was anything but friendly. “How dare you tell the cops that Stella killed him? Where do you get off doing that?”

“Danny! Stop now!” said Nonni.

“Leave her alone, Dan.” Stella emerged from the kitchen. She spoke softly. “Somebody was bound to figure it out sooner or later.”

Dear Natasha,

I’m so embarrassed. I just can’t warm up to dark chocolate. I know it’s better for me. I know I should love it, but give me sweet, soft, melt-in-my-mouth milk chocolate any day and forget the dark stuff. Is it just me?

—Milk Chocolate for Me in Milk Springs, Alabama

Dear Milk Chocolate,

Dark chocolate does contain more chocolate, and generally speaking, less sugar. It’s really a matter of developing a more refined palate so you will enjoy that dark chocolate.

—Natasha

Dan nearly dropped poor Bacio. He set the cat on the floor. “What are you doing, Stella?” He rushed over to her, holding his palms up as if to stop her. “Don’t say anything more.
Okay? Not another word. I’ll get you Alex German, the new guy. They say he’s the best criminal lawyer in town.”

“I have to get it off my chest. I’ve been living a lie for far too long.”

“Honey, as soon as you have a lawyer, you can spill your guts. But not now!” Dan wasn’t nearly as calm as Stella.

“We sit down and listen to Stella. Come, Sofia.” It was a direct order from Nonni.

Truth be told, I was glad she had included me. I wanted to hear what Stella had to say.

We settled at their kitchen table. Dan appeared queasy. Nonni poured espresso for everyone and placed chocolate macaroons on the table.

Stella cleared her throat. “You know that I lost my parents when I was very young.”

“Stella, honey, not that again.” Dan reached for her hand. “Tell us what happened with Arnaud.”

“I
am
telling you. My father broke off his relationship with my mother before I was born. They never married. When I was three months old, she took me to see him. I guess it was something of a shock when she showed up at his door with a baby. My grandmother said my mom was certain he would have a change of heart when he saw me. It didn’t quite work out that way.”

Stella paused and swallowed hard a few times before continuing. “The story goes that he left, and she followed him. They argued on the street, and when he pushed her away, she fell in front of an oncoming car. She was holding me at the time, and I flew through the air. They say he turned to look but didn’t stop to help or to see if we were all right. He just kept going. We were both taken to the hospital, but my mother didn’t survive. My grandmother came to collect me. She went to visit my father, but he had already fled—moved out and disappeared.”

“My poor Stella.” Nonni placed her hand over Stella’s.

Dan looked at her with pity in his eyes. “Why did you tell me they both died?”

“Because I can’t stand it when people look at me the way you are right now. Grade school was the worst. I made up all kinds of stories about my parents just so I wouldn’t have to admit that my mother was dead, and my father didn’t want me. Nobody wants to play with
that
kid. Family is all that little kids know. It makes them uncomfortable to think that one of their friends doesn’t have the normal family setup with parents. My grandmother was very patient. She made both my parents sound wonderful. I imagined that my father was a handsome prince who would arrive one day, all kisses and love. But the years passed, and he was a no-show. No kisses, no love, no letters, nothing. Eventually, my grandmother told me the truth. As I got older, it was just easier for me to tell people they were both dead.”

She cupped her hands and held her forehead. “The real truth is that my grandmother, bless her, was relentless in her search for him. When I was six, she spotted him in a magazine, using a new name. She was certain the young, upcoming chocolatier was Arnie. She hired a lawyer and went after child support. That’s why he didn’t open a store in the United States sooner. The authorities were after him for my support. I guess he figured enough years had expired for it to be safe now. Even knowing all that, when I heard he was coming to town, I held out hope that he wasn’t as bad as I feared. That maybe he hadn’t run away while my mother lay dying. Or that he regretted his previous callous behavior. That he had changed and become a different man.”

Nonni frowned. “Arnaud is your daddy?”

“I knew it would come out sooner or later. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I’ve made such a mess of everything.”

Dan sat back in his chair. “Wow. I didn’t see this coming. I don’t get it. Did you really send him an invitation to the tasting? Why? So you could meet him?”

“I stalked him a little bit first. Not in a sick way,” she hastened to say. “I just wanted to see what he was like, you know? My grandmother always said that even the most disagreeable person must have some redeeming qualities. I couldn’t find any. He was a heartless, vulgar, sloppy-drunk, egocentric jerk. I honestly believe that he killed my mother by shoving her in front of a car. I sent the invitation so I could murder him.”

Nonni and I gasped. Dan turned whiter than the sugar on the table.

“I stole pills from Dan’s mother. I knew that Arnie drank like a sailor. A few of those pills, and he would have been fried. It was actually too kind a death for him.”

“But the pills were in the champagne glass,” I said. “You decided not to kill him after all? Did you find something redeeming in him?”

“No. I found something lacking in me. I didn’t have it in me. I didn’t have the strength or the courage.” She closed her eyes for a moment and lifted a trembling hand to her head. She snorted a sad laugh. “I think I must have inherited it from him. Most of the horrible things he did were acts of cowardice or sloth. He ran from everything in his life. He ran out on my mother, and on Coco and Kara, and who knows what other women. He ran out on me. He was a slug. Apparently, I share his lack of courage. I dumped the pills in a discarded champagne glass and walked away, just like him. He never took responsibility for anything or anyone. He just walked away and let them perish. And I did the same thing, except I thought he would live.”

We sat in silent disbelief, until Dan said, “He deserved what he got.”

“Dan,” Stella said gently, “I will probably be tried for Arnaud’s murder. But I want you to know that I didn’t do it.”

I figured it was time for me to take off and leave Stella and Dan to work things out.

Nonni walked me to the door and gave me a big hug. “We
will help our Stella and stand behind her. We will be her family.”

I walked into the night thinking of all the lives Arnie had savaged. He had turned entire families upside down. And Stella was right. It seemed his method of coping with the mayhem he caused was to run away. But this time, he hadn’t managed to make a clean getaway from someone.

I couldn’t sleep that night. My twisting and turning irritated Mochie, who tried to settle on my bed but was constantly disturbed. He finally nestled near my neck, which made it impossible for me to turn. “Would you look for me if I didn’t come home?” He purred, which I took to mean
yes
.

I hoped Bacio would stay home and wouldn’t sneak out again. And then I annoyed Mochie by sitting up. How stupid could I be? There had to be a reason Bacio kept sitting on that stoop, and I didn’t think it was Vince. Could Joe be alive? We didn’t have any reason to think he was dead. We’d all assumed the worst—that he’d been murdered.

Something in that house drew Bacio to it. Cats were funny creatures. Was it Nonni or Coco who told me that Bacio had never left their garden before? I walked along that street all the time and had never noticed Bacio on that stoop until recently. What had changed? Joe had disappeared. I kept coming back to Joe.

Could Joe be hiding out there? But why? Had he been in the house the whole time?

Vince had walked out of the house and locked it behind him. He was cooperating with the police. Could he be helping Joe? Bringing him food or groceries, maybe?

The only one who could be trusted was Bacio. That cat knew something we didn’t—and I suspected he had discovered where his beloved Joe had gone. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that Joe was living in that house. It was time we knew the truth.

I threw on a sleeveless shirt and a pair of cotton pants that were entirely too tight. A few deep knee bends loosened them up, but not as much as I would have liked. I wasn’t in the mood to try on clothes, though. I pulled on my Keds for a quick walk. Leaving Mochie on my bed, I hurried downstairs as quietly as I could. Mars was snoring. Luckily, I hadn’t wakened him. I snapped a leash on Daisy, and we were out the door.

At two in the morning, the streets of Old Town were blissfully empty. No cars traveled the streets, and few people were out and about. If I hadn’t been so excited and full of anticipation, I would have enjoyed the peacefulness. In a matter of minutes, we reached the stoop where Bacio liked to sit. It was a huge relief that he wasn’t there.

Sucking in the warm night air to bolster my courage, I knocked on the door. I clutched my phone in one hand, ready to call 911, if necessary. When no one answered, I pounded on the door.

In the quiet of the night, there was no mistaking the creaking sounds of someone sneaking down the stairs inside the house. But he didn’t answer the door.

I knocked again, more softly. “Joe, if you don’t let me in, I’m going to tell Coco where you are.”

The door opened swiftly. “Hurry.”

Daisy and I were inside in less than two seconds. He hadn’t turned on any lights but my eyes had adjusted to the darkness during our walk, and the streetlight shone in just enough for me to know that I had been right.

Joe beckoned me into the living room and drew the curtains closed before turning on a small lamp. “It pains me to sound so very impolite, but what are you doing here?”

“I believe the real question is
what are you doing here?
”

“Wolf is going to be madder than a wet hen. He told me how you nearly blew our cover earlier.”

Our cover? So Joe was in on the sting.

“Joe! Don’t you realize what you’re doing to your family? I don’t understand. Why are you hiding out here?”

Joe sighed like I was a huge annoyance. “Have you ever seen the TV show where a CEO goes undercover in his own company?”

“Yes, I think I have.” Daisy sat quietly beside me.

“There were some things going on at Amore that I didn’t like—”

“The inferior chocolate used in the boxed chocolates?”

“You see? Customers have noticed. But when I went through the paperwork, everything seemed to be in order. I wanted to go undercover to find out exactly what was going on in the company but without the TV show. Just on my own.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He’d been among us all along. But it wasn’t until I noticed an Amore baseball cap laying on a chair that things began to gel for me. A long gray ponytail was attached to it. “You’re Vince?”

“Right.”

“But the lisp?”

“They gave me something to put in my mouth. Otherwise everyone would have recognized my voice. I wore the ponytail and glasses. Mostly I kept to myself, which worked out well because it gave me a chance to snoop around. It wasn’t easy staying away from Coco, Mitch, and Dan. I lived in fear that one of them would recognize me.”

“Couldn’t you have accomplished everything in a day or two? Why are you dragging this out?”

“Because someone wants to kill me.”