Chocolate-Covered Crime

  Spyglass Lane Mysteries presents:

  A Summer Meadows Mystery Book Three

  Chocolate-Covered Crime

  By

  Cynthia Hickey

  Ebook Copyright 2011 by Cynthia Hickey

  Spyglass Lane Mysteries

  Smashwords Edition

  Discover other Spyglass Lane titles at SpyglassLaneMysteries.com.

  Published in association with MacGregor Literary Inc., Portland, Oregon.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 Biblica. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.

  Dedication

  To God who gives me the inspiration, to my husband, Tom, for his unfailing support, to my children for believing I can do this, and to the fans who eagerly awaited the third book. Thank you.

  CHAPTER ONE

  If she messes this up, I’ll. . .” Aunt Eunice frowned. The lines on each side of her mouth deepened.

  “What? Kill her?” April, my best friend and appointed maid of honor, giggled at her response to Aunt Eunice’s remark then turned her back to the store’s receptionist. “It’s been a few weeks since Summer has had a mystery to solve.”

  Cousin Mae Belle was late. I didn’t know her well enough to determine whether tardiness was normal for her or not. I sighed and flipped through another bridal magazine as I half-listened to background music while Aunt Eunice worked herself into a frenzy. She waved her arms in the air and muttered about the responsibility of being on time for appointments. Admitting to a bit of apprehension, I slapped the magazine closed and rose to peer out the window.

  “I told you she was too scatterbrained to be in charge of your wedding.” Aunt Eunice paced the rose-colored carpet. “Calling herself a wedding planner doesn’t make her one. Also, with your luck, I still don’t think it’s wise to get married on April Fool’s Day.”

  “It’ll be fun, and Ethan will never be able to forget the date. It was his idea. Mae Belle’s my cousin and deserves my loyalty.” I didn’t turn to face my aunt. Butterflies the size of horses fluttered in my stomach. “She’s giving me a really good deal, and she does own her own business. That makes her successful. Sort of.”

  I waved my hand around the garishly decorated pink and white receiving area of Mae Belle’s shop, A Dream Wedding. A few patrons flipped through magazines or browsed catalog. “See what she’s accomplished?”

  I shifted my attention as Aunt Eunice waved a fistful of baby blue–colored papers in April’s face. “I won’t let anyone mess up Summer’s special day. Lord knows I thought this day would never come.”

  “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  At that moment, Mae Belle shoved her way through the glass doors, her face creased with worry.

  “Sorry. Something came up.” With a thump, she plopped a tote bag onto the glass-topped coffee table, then clasped a hand to her barely there bosom and strained to catch her breath. “Summer, can you step into the back with me? There’s something I need to. . .” She glanced behind me and froze.

  “What?” I turned my head. The sidewalk was vacant.

  “Nothing. We’ll talk later.” She gave a shaky smile and reached into her bag.

  “Where have you been, Mae Belle?” Aunt Eunice pronounced her name as one word. She glared, chubby hands planted on plump hips. “How can you expect to run a business if you can’t make your appointments on time? Very irresponsible. Why, at Summer Confections, we. . .”

  “Aunt Eunice, please.” I held up a hand to stop her. “She’s only fifteen minutes late. Not a big deal.” I dropped to the sofa and struggled to hide my displeasure. Mae Belle joined me, opening a thick notebook.

  “Okay. I’m going to ask you some questions. From your answers, I’ll be able to plan the wedding of your dreams. Ready?” Mae Belle took a deep breath after her rush of instructions. Her attention seemed everywhere but on the task at hand. Her gaze flitted behind me.

  I glanced over my shoulder. Nothing but an elderly gentleman walking a scruffy little dog. “More than ready.”

  “Colors? Are you getting married in white?”

  “She’d better be,” Aunt Eunice answered, searching my face. Horror. The woman’s candor would be my undoing. My cheeks flamed.

  “Bridesmaids?”

  I waited a second to see whether my aunt would speak for me. For once, she held her tongue. I answered. “Dark purple. Like the Midnight Blue roses I want in my bouquet.”

  “Great. Any other colors?” Mae Belle’s pen scratched like a chicken searching for feed. I leaned over to peer at her writing. The penmanship resembled that particular fowl’s scratches. How would she decipher her notes? After I straightened, her attention again moved past me.

  “A delicate pink as an accent color. I want the bridesmaids’ bouquets pink and white. The flower girl. . .”

  Mae Belle’s eyes glazed over. That did it. She wasn’t paying attention. I grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come on.” After dragging her to a small storage room in the back, I spun to face her. “What’s up? You definitely aren’t concentrating on my wedding. Seriously, Mae Belle. This is a big day for me, and since I’m paying you, I expect your full attention.”

  My cousin’s brown eyes swam with tears. “I’m sorry. It’s just. . . I found out. . .” She covered her face with her hands. The bell in the store jingled, and two giggly twentysomethings entered. Mae Belle raised her head. “Gotta go. I have to talk to you later. Okay?” She gripped my hands. “It’s important. Promise me.”

  I gnawed my lower lip, alarmed at her sense of urgency. “I promise. Let’s get this initial interview over with, I’ll ditch my aunt and April, and we can talk.”

  She gave me a shaky smile and trotted back to the front of the store. I followed at a more sedate pace.

  Aunt Eunice had taken it upon herself to flip through Mae Belle’s notebook. “How can anyone read this?” She turned the book sideways.

  Mae Belle snatched the book from her hands. “The only one who needs to read my notes is me!”

  “Besides some indecipherable words scribbled in before Summer’s questions, it doesn’t look as if you have any other clients. You told us you were doing well for yourself.”

  “I am! I was. I keep a separate notebook for each client.”

  “What about Edna Mobley’s wedding? Didn’t they cancel because you couldn’t get it together fast enough?” Aunt Eunice crossed her arms. “That’s why we’re starting our planning in September, you know? To give you plenty of time.”

  “That wasn’t my fault. It was the caterer.” Mae Belle’s sharp cheekbones flushed. “What is wrong with you, Aunt Eunice? Why are you being so mean to me? I’m doing the best I can.”

  Aunt Eunice shrugged. “I don’t know.” She glanced at me then lowered her gaze. “I wanted to have a little more input into something this special. It was completely selfish of me. But Summer’s the daughter I never had. Now she’s getting married, and we’re moving out.”

  I wrapped my arms around the woman who’d raised me. “You are the sweetest gift God has ever given me.” I grinned. “Besides Ethan. Believe me, you’re going to have plenty to do. To save money, we’ll be doing a lot of the work ourselves.” That seemed to make her feel better. My aunt straightened her sho
ulders and gave me a shaky smile.

  I withdrew a folder from the tapestry-print bag I’d brought with me. “Here is a picture of the wedding gown I want, the bridesmaids’ dresses, and the cake. I’ll let you locate them for me, Mae Belle.” The three women oohed and aahed over my choices before Aunt Eunice snatched the photograph of the cake.

  “This is a bit different. What’s that on top?”

  I could tell from my aunt’s tone she wasn’t impressed with the design. “The cake is chocolate, covered with white chocolate frosting. The topping is a solid white chocolate molded into the form of a bride and groom embracing. The roses can be dry brushed with my wedding colors. I want them tipped with pink and purple.”

  “Kind of modern, isn’t it?”

  I grabbed the paper from Aunt Eunice’s hand. “Ethan likes chocolate, and I want something beautiful but different.”

  “It’s gorgeous.” April took the paper. “But not as gorgeous as this dress! Who’s the designer?”

  “Demetrios.”

  “It won’t work.” April and I both swiveled to glare at my aunt. “You may be a little thing, Summer, but your bosom will spill out of the top of that. Look how tight the bodice is. You won’t be able to breathe.”

  “I will not spill out.” I clutched the photo of my dream dress to my chest and recited the details I’d committed to memory. “A heavily beaded, strapless bodice with a gathered, pull-up skirt and chapel train.” April’s sigh equaled my own. “It’s perfect. And Ethan will be wearing a tux by Ralph Lauren. I may never let him take it off.”

  “Yes, you will.” April bumped her shoulder against mine, causing a heat wave to rise up my neck. “Is there a picture in there of what I’ll be wearing?”

  I handed her a picture of a simple, fitted dress in a shade resembling eggplant. A belt, detailed with rhinestones, completed the look. “With silver sandals, you’ll be beautiful.”

  Aunt Eunice grabbed the portrait. “More strapless?” She glanced to where the two other prospective customers eavesdropped on our conversation. They turned away.

  “It has spaghetti straps. It’s my wedding, Aunt Eunice. And you can trust me not to do anything improper.”

  Mae Belle fidgeted with the strands of hair hanging loose from a bun at the back of her head. “I’m not sure I can do this if there’s going to be constant turmoil. I tend to be delicate, you know.” Her gaze returned outside. She gasped and bolted to her feet.

  Again, I glanced to see nothing out of the ordinary. If Mae Belle didn’t quit turning my attention outside, I’d get whiplash. I glared at her. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. I decided to get rid of the audience and find out what was troubling the trembling woman in front of me. Always pale, Mae Belle now looked as if she’d seen a ghost.

  Her hands shook as she repacked her things into her oversize bag. Aunt Eunice’s harping and unhappiness about being ushered from the store early didn’t help. Other than a puzzled glance over being dismissed, April offered no comment, no doubt being used to my rather unorthodox way of doing things.

  “I’ll call you later,” I whispered as she bent to retrieve her purse. My best friend nodded and dragged Aunt Eunice from the store.

  Mae Belle jumped when I laid a hand on her shoulder. “What’s going on?” I took her by the arm. “Let’s go in the back.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t talk here.” Mae Belle paced the floor and stopped abruptly, her eyes wide and dark. “Meet me at the diner. No, Grandma’s Story Corner. Thirty minutes. I’ve got to get rid of these other customers.”

  “Okay.” I retrieved my tote bag and, with a glance behind me, left the boutique.

  Grandma’s Story Corner sat one block over in a renovated brick storefront. The coffee and pastry bar, as well as rows and rows of books, made it one of my favorite places to hang out. My mouth watered in anticipation of a vente-sized iced mocha with whipped cream.

  My happy mood disappeared when I saw the long line. I forced back a groan and took my place behind a couple of giggling teenagers discussing the latest tabloid article of who dated whom. Several minutes later, my hand wrapped around an icy, cold-flavored coffee. I found an isolated table and sat down to wait for my cousin who, again, ran late. Really, at thirty-five years old, she should have better manners. If this was normal behavior on her part, I’d need to question the wisdom of hiring her as my wedding planner.

  The owner of the store was anything but grandma-like with her dyed, spiked hair and leopard-print leggings. Her stiletto heels clacked on the wooden floor as she strode up to my table. “Looking for another book on crime solving, Summer? How’s the book coming?”

  “Not good.” I winced at her question. I had yet to start the book I’d said I was writing to cover my reason for buying the crime-solving books awhile back. “I’m waiting for my cousin.”

  “The handsome sheriff ?”

  “No, Mae Belle. She’s my wedding planner.”

  “Oh. Good luck on that. She hasn’t left a line of happy customers.” The woman waved a hand and continued on her way.

  I glanced at my watch. Where could Mae Belle be? Now twenty past the appointed thirty minutes, I admitted to a certain amount of fear. Grabbing my drink and bag, I rose and headed back to A Dream Wedding.

  The store still seemed to be full of looky-loos rather than people actually interested in hiring my cousin. The woman behind the register pointed me to Mae Belle’s office. Adopting the same air of annoyance my aunt portrayed earlier, I marched to the office and knocked on the door. Receiving no answer, I turned the knob and stepped inside.

  Lying facedown, legs straight with a sensible black pump missing from one foot, lay Mae Belle. An ornate-handled letter opener protruded from the center of her back.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Every fiber of my being wanted to rush to my cousin’s side, help her to her feet, and tell her to lay off the dramatics. We weren’t in high school anymore.

  I’d seen my fair share of death in the past month or so and messed up enough crime scenes to get myself thrown in jail for a night, so I knew not to touch anything. But I had to check. I knelt beside her and felt for a pulse in her neck. A moan escaped her. Ripples of warm air brushed against my wrist. I scuttled backward and screamed.

  Mae Belle’s secretary/receptionist, a big-boned girl by the name of Sherry, waddled into the office and speared me with an emerald green gaze. “What did you do?”

  “Instead of accusing me, you need to call the police. And an ambulance.” I pulled free a strand of hair stuck to the corner of Mae Belle’s mouth. She was pale, and crimson spread beneath her and stained the rose-colored rug. “Mae Belle. Can you hear me?”

  She groaned again. Since Sherry still hadn’t moved, I stretched my arm to grab the phone from the desk and dialed 911. The other woman still glared at me. Keeping my gaze focused on her unfriendly one, I reported the scene around me then held the receiver to my shoulder. “What are you staring at?” I hissed and pressed the phone against me to prevent the operator from hearing.

  “There’s destruction and death everywhere you go. I’ve read the papers. I know all about you and your attempts at crime solving. Things too slow around here for you? Trying to drum up some excitement?” Sherry spit the words at me. “Now, here’s my boss of two days lying on the floor. Do you know how long it took for me to find this job? Nobody is going to mess that up for me.”

  “Why would I. . .” A voice shouted for my attention, and I put the receiver back to my ear. “Yes, I’m still here. I won’t hang up. Yes, she’s still breathing—barely—but there’s a lot of blood.”

  My cell phone rang. One glance showed the chief of police’s number, my cousin Joe. Grimacing and offering apologies to the 911 operator, I answered it with my free hand. “I haven’t touched anything.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, I did feel Mae Belle’s neck to see if she was alive. She is. Oh, and I called from the office phone. Sorry. I didn’t think to use my cell phone. I’m a l
ittle stressed right now. Plus, the desk was right there. Okay, so you know my fingerprints are on it. That shouldn’t complicate things too much. Wait a minute. How did you know I was here?”

  “April told me earlier that you had an appointment. We heard the call come through. I put two and two together. Besides, you’re drawn to trouble. We’re on our way. Keep on not touching anything.” Click.

  Joe always was a man of few words. After slipping my cell phone back into my purse, I switched my attention back to dispatch. The woman droned on about CPR and how to staunch the blood flow.

  Horror. “I’m not sure I should flip her on her back with something stuck there. Should I pull it out?” Please say no. The operator coaxed me on what to do, just in case, and to definitely not pull out the letter opener. My heart rate returned to normal. Sherry still stood nearby, as worthless as a chewed wad of gum.

  “Get something to slow down the bleeding,” I ordered.

  Her eyes grew to the size of half dollars. “I don’t do blood.”

  Good grief. Could I threaten to press charges for not assisting in trying to save someone’s life? I glanced at my cousin. “Hang on, Mae Belle. You can’t die. We’ve got a wedding to plan.” Sirens wailed outside the building. “Help is here.” I hung up on the dispatch operator and leaned against the desk for support.

  During a crisis, I’m okay. Afterward, it all catches up to me. My skin grew clammy, my hands shook, and spots danced before my eyes. I watched the paramedics through tunnel vision.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Chief of police and man of compassion, Cousin Joe peered at me. “You aren’t going to faint, are you? One semiconscious body is all we can handle at a time.”

  “I’m. . .” Peeking from beneath the desk pad was what appeared to be Mae Belle’s appointment book. I turned to face Joe, hiding the desk behind my back. I bet her attempted murderer was in that book. Amazing how the promise of another exciting mystery made me feel better. “I’m fine. Just woozy for a second. Thanks for being concerned.”