Fatal Chocolate Obsession (Death by Chocolate Book 5) (12 page)

“Brandon’s clean but Grady has two DUIs and he’s been in trouble for sexual harassment.”

Trent stiffened and gave me the cop stare. “And you know this how?”

Oops. I lifted my chin and gave him the obstinate red head stare. “I’m psychic.”

“Fred, of course. So you knew about this guy’s background and you still didn’t tell me he was bothering you?”

I threw up my hands and sighed dramatically. “I just told you, and you’re making me sorry I did!” The best defense is a good offense. “If you harbor any illusions of getting personal with me tonight, you’ll give up the cop attitude and go back to being Trent.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment then nodded. “Tonight I’ll be your boyfriend. Tomorrow morning the cop will have a talk with Mathis.”

I started to protest. Mathis hadn’t done anything wrong except be obnoxious. However, it would be nice not to ever see him again. “I’d rather my boyfriend had the talk. Just make it clear to him that you and I are involved and you carry a gun and you’re very jealous.”

He laughed. “I think I can probably get the message across. But if he comes back to the restaurant, call Detective Adam Trent immediately.” He rose and took my hand. “Now, about that getting personal stuff…”

I cleared our snacks off the coffee table and put away the cookies then set the box of Godiva chocolates on the top shelf of my pantry, partly to hide it from Henry and partly to hide it from me. If it was visible, I’d eat the entire box before I left for work in the morning.

We started upstairs and Henry dashed ahead. Instead of going straight to the foot of my bed, he curled in the corner. He may be a catnip-aholic, but he has good manners.

***

I was sleeping soundly and happily when Trent’s freaking cell phone rang.

He groaned and rolled over, uncurling himself from my back, taking away the warm.

I looked at the clock. Six minutes after two a.m. Probably not his dentist’s office with a reminder call.

He grabbed his phone off the nightstand. “Adam Trent…Yes…I see…I will…I’m on my way.” He laid the phone back on the nightstand and rolled over to wrap his arms around me.

I returned the embrace. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say you’re on your way somewhere besides my bed.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, well. Better a few hours of fun than no fun at all.” I kissed him then shoved him away. “Get dressed. Go play cop.”

“Lindsay, I need to tell you what that call was about.” Even in the dark, I could see that he had that
I’m so sorry, ma’am, but I have bad news
look on his face.

My breath caught in my chest. Had somebody else been killed? Somebody I knew?

“Somebody tried again to kill Rick.”

I breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness!”

He frowned. “What?”

“I mean, thank goodness it wasn’t somebody else, somebody I care about.” Trent’s frown didn’t clear, so I hurried on to another question. “What happened?”

“I don’t have all the details yet. Someone hit him on the head with something heavy. He’s in emergency surgery again, but they think he’s going to be okay.”

“Really? If I’d known a couple of whacks over the head would make him
okay
, I’d have done that to him years ago.”

He got out of bed and started putting on his clothes. “Sometime we need to talk about this attitude you have toward your ex-husband.”

“I think it’s a perfectly normal attitude. What’s your attitude toward your ex-wife? How would you feel if she’d just been almost murdered twice? Wouldn’t you kind of wish the killer had been a little more competent?” I got up and pulled on my jeans.

“Go back to bed. I know my way out.”

“No, you might get lost. Besides, I need to lock the deadbolt behind you.”

“True.”

We walked downstairs.

“I think I just made a good point,” I said. “The killer isn’t very competent, is he?”

“You mean because he failed twice to kill Rick?”

We reached the front door and I turned the deadbolt to unlock it. “That too, but if you think about it, he could have put an air bubble in Rick’s IV. He could have posed as a doctor and given him a shot of insulin. Instead, he just whacked him over the head again. Brute force.”

“You watch too much television.” He gave me a quick goodnight kiss. “Don’t come out. Lock up behind me, turn your porch light on and go straight to bed.”

For once, I was willing to take orders.

I flipped on the light and stood in the doorway watching him as he strode down the sidewalk.

Clouds still covered the moon and thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. If it rained, surely my stalker would stay home.

I waved as Trent drove away.

I’d felt safe while he was with me. When he left, I felt very exposed, as if unseen eyes were watching me, as if Mathis or some stranger was going to pop out from behind a tree at any moment.

The thunder rumbled louder. A chilly autumn wind blew my hair across my face and sent shivers down my spine.

I strained to see behind bushes, around the thick trunk of the oak tree, in the shadows of Paula’s house next door and Sophie’s house across the street. I didn’t bother to look at Fred’s house. Between his psychic ability and his x-ray vision, not to mention all sorts of electronic microphones and cameras, he’d know if anyone came close to his house.

I couldn’t see anybody.

If I was inside with the blinds closed, nobody could see me.

I stepped back, shut the door and turned the deadbolt.

Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the living room and turning the lamp, sofa, chair and television into evil aliens. Thunder crashed.

I ran upstairs where Henry waited on the foot of my bed. He was calm. If Henry was calm, everything was fine.

I turned off the lamp and went to the window. Tree branches thrashed about in the wind. Lightning streaked through the sky, bringing shadows to life and sending them dancing across my yard.

I considered closing my window. Not to shut out the storm. I love a good thunderstorm. No, I wanted to shut out those shadows. However, at the same time I wanted to hear if somebody came on my porch. I wanted to catch him in the act and dump Henry’s litter box on his head.

I left the window up.

My phone rang and I almost jumped out of my skin.

I looked at the display.

Fred?

Lightning flashed. Thunder boomed a split second later. The storm was getting closer.

My heart rate sped up. It was a strange hour for anyone to call, even Fred. Was he calling to warn me about something or someone he’d seen skulking around my house?

I picked up my phone. “Fred?”

“Of course it’s me. Who else would be calling from my cell phone?”

I released a long breath. He didn’t sound as if he was worried about my safety. He sounded like his usual snarky self. “Why are you calling at this hour?”

“I saw you were up and just wanted to be sure you were okay. I can come over if you want me to since Trent had to leave.”

I laughed. “Even if I were scared—which I’m not—I don’t need you to come over because you’re already watching everything that goes on over here.”

“I wish that were true. If it was, I’d have seen that creep who left the roses. I do sleep sometimes.”

“You do?”

He ignored my question. “I have more bad news. I’ve been studying the footage from the camera I left in Kenneth Wilson’s bedroom. He hasn’t made any move to get rid of his shoes.”

A cold wind gusted through my bedroom window.

“Damn. I thought sure we had Bob’s killer.”

“I don’t think so. You may have to accept that Bob’s murder was random and his killer may never be caught. However, Ken may kill Tina.”

I sucked in a quick breath. “Does that mean you’ve caught him on tape hurting her?”

As if in answer, lightning struck close by. I shrieked. The flash was so bright it momentarily blinded me, the thunder so loud it hurt my ears.

“You’re able to scream,” Fred said. “That means the lightning didn’t hit you and you’re not dead.”

“Thank you for being so comforting.”

“Any time. Back to Kenneth and Tina. I’m afraid we stirred up Ken with our visit and our talk about Bob. He was rough on her last night. Shouted at her about the affair. Threatened to kill her and the oldest boy, the one that isn’t his. Tonight she practically dragged Ken into the bedroom, begging him to hit her instead of the boy, so I assume he must have attacked or at least threatened the kid.”

“I don’t like the sound of that. Can you turn the video over to the cops and get him arrested?”

“Won’t work. If I tried, he’d get me for invasion of his privacy.”

“So how were you planning to use the video of him getting rid of his shoes? Wouldn’t that have been invasion of privacy too?”

“Absolutely. But if he’d done that, we’d have known he was guilty and then we could have worked on finding the evidence or getting a confession.”

“I see. And if he didn’t make a move to get rid of the shoes, you could use that as proof to me that he didn’t do it and I need to admit that Bob’s murder could be an anonymous mugging and quit nagging you about it.”

“That sums it up quite well.”

“But now you’ve caught him committing another crime.”

“Yes.”

“And we can’t do anything about it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Lightning flashed and thunder boomed almost simultaneously. Rain pelted down so suddenly and so hard I jumped. The wind blew chilly drops through my open window and onto my bare arms. I slammed the window closed.

“Go to bed,” Fred advised. “Get some sleep. We’ll figure out some way to help Tina.” He hung up.

I returned to bed, but I didn’t expect to sleep. In addition to worrying about Grady, I could now worry about Tina too.

The rain beat against my window so forcefully it seemed it would break the glass and come inside bringing all the cold and darkness that lived outside my house.

The pre-dawn air was cool and rain-cleansed when I left for work the next morning. My front porch held only a few wet leaves blown down by the previous night’s turbulence. Nobody jumped out at me when I opened my garage door. Nobody was hiding in the back seat of my car.

I walked into the kitchen of Death by Chocolate to find Paula already at work. Rarely do I arrive before her. Not that I try very hard.

I dropped my purse into a corner of the kitchen and tied on an apron. Making chocolate is a messy process. At least, the way I do it is.

“Good morning.” Paula didn’t look up from the biscuits she was putting in a pan.

“Somebody sneaked into the hospital and tried to kill Rick again. Failed again.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide. Yes, I like the effect of being dramatic. “What happened?”

“That’s all I know. Trent had to leave in the middle of the night to check on him. And Trent thinks Grady Mathis may be my secret admirer.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Could be. He hits on you every time he comes in here.”

I took down a large can of cocoa and began preparing brownies. “Trent’s going to talk to him this morning. If he comes in, we need to call Trent immediately.”

She shoved the pan of biscuits in the oven and closed the door. “Didn’t you get the roses before you even met this guy?”

“Before I went to the car shop, yes. But that place isn’t very far from here. Trent thinks he might have been in here prior to that time and I just don’t remember him.”

“I suppose that’s possible. However, he doesn’t seem like the kind of man who’d leave romantic gifts like flowers and that butterfly.”

“Remember all those romantic gifts Rick used to give me?” I beat my brownie batter vigorously, more vigorously than brownies should be beaten. “Those men don’t understand that a few gifts do not make up for how they act.”

She set a big bowl of yeast dough in front of me. “Beat on this before you ruin those brownies.”

“Speaking of that blasted butterfly, Trent wants it. Good thing because I can’t stand having it around if that jerk touched it.”

I handed my whisk to Paula and strode into the main room of the restaurant. The butterfly sat quietly on the top shelf of the display case all alone, no cookies to keep it company. Even in the semi-darkness, the crystal wings sparkled. It was pretty even if it was contaminated. It was an inanimate object. Not its fault that a psycho bought it.

Even with all that logic, I still didn’t want to touch something Grady Mathis or whoever my stalker was had touched.
Butterflies are free and so are we.
Yuck!

I picked it up using a napkin, took it to the kitchen and set it on top of the refrigerator between my car keys and Paula’s so I wouldn’t forget it when I left.

***

Breakfast was painful. I couldn’t find my rhythm, couldn’t get into the zone.

If Grady was my stalker, Trent would put the fear of God and the Pleasant Grove Police Department in him, and that should effectively end the poems, gifts and visits to my house in the middle of the night.

But what if he wasn’t?

It could be anyone. The tall man who refused to look me in the eye when he placed his order. The short man who looked me in the eye too long. The skinny man with crossed eyes who might or might not have looked me in the eye.

I poured a cup and a half of coffee for a woman because I was paying more attention to the man at the next table who was writing on his laptop. What was he writing? Was he taking pictures?

Fortunately the coffee didn’t spill on the woman, just on the table. “I’m so sorry. I’ll get you another cup and be right back to clean that up.”

A man at the counter turned as I approached. He had beady, close set eyes.

“Lindsay—”

He knew my name!

“Can I have another cup of Earl Grey?”

Would a stalker drink Earl Grey tea?

I cleaned up the spilled coffee, took the woman another cup, and gave beady eyes hot water and a tea bag.

I tried to pay attention to what I was doing, tried not to be paranoid. However, considering someone was stalking me, spying on me, invading my privacy, paranoia seemed appropriate.

I picked up a fresh pot of coffee. The man walking in the door looked familiar. Tall, dark and handsome, wearing a business suit and an intense expression. Where had I seen him before? Walking down my street? Eating chocolate in my restaurant? Skulking around my house?

Actually, none of those places. The man bore a striking resemblance to Jim Caviezel on
Person of Interest
.

Someone touched my arm. I gasped and almost dropped the coffee pot.

“Why don’t you focus on cooking for a while and let me take care of the front room?” Paula asked quietly. “You seem a little distracted.”

“I’m fine. I’m not going to allow myself to get upset by some cowardly jerk who sneaks around in the middle of the night and doesn’t have the guts to face me.”

“I don’t blame you.”

A woman took a seat at a corner table. Her head was down as if she was studying the empty white mug on the table. “Excuse me. I see someone who needs caffeine.”

“You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

I strode over to the newcomer’s table. “Good morning. Can I start you out with a cup of coffee?”

She looked up. It took me a couple of moments to recognize Tina. Both eyes were black, her mouth and cheeks were swollen, and her nose was crooked.

“Holy—!” I bit back the exclamation since there were other customers around who might not appreciate swear words with their breakfast. “Tina? What happened?”

Her unsuccessful attempt to smile lifted one corner of her swollen lips and looked macabre. “You know what happened.”

“Well, yes, but shouldn’t you be in a hospital or somewhere other than a chocolate shop?”

Tears filled her blood-shot eyes. “I didn’t know where else to go. I took the kids to school, went back home and threw a few clothes and toys in the car, then came here. My sister’s scared of Ken. She says I can’t stay with her. You’re so brave, I thought maybe you could help me. You gave me the courage to leave him.”

Brave?
I’ve been called a lot of things, some of them not very flattering, but that was the first time I’d ever been called brave. My actions that morning, jumping out of my skin every time a new customer came in, certainly disproved Tina’s assumption.

“Uh, okay, sure. What can I do to help?”
Please don’t ask me to let you and your three kids stay with me!

“If I just had a place to stay for a few days until I can find an apartment and get a job, that would help so much.”

“There’s a Motel 6 not far from here. I understand it’s inexpensive but clean and comfortable.”

She nodded and tried that strange smile again then looked down at the table. “Could I have a cup of coffee?”

I set the thick white cup upright in its saucer and poured coffee into it.

If she wanted to go to a motel, she wouldn’t have come to you. She probably doesn’t have the money to pay for even a few nights.

But she has three kids!

Three kids that have to eat.

Three kids!

And motel rooms are very small.

I didn’t realize I’d spoken the last thought aloud until Tina said, “We’ll be fine at a motel for a few days. I just need to find a place that will let me have all three boys in one room. They’re too young to stay by themselves.”

“My house is tiny.” I gave myself a mental slap upside the head.
Why did I bring up my house?

“We’ll be fine,” she repeated.

“My boyfriend’s a cop. He probably knows about shelters for abused women where you could stay until you get on your feet.”

She still didn’t manage much of a smile, but I could see the relieved look in her eyes. “That would be wonderful.”

Yes, by that point we all knew Tina and her three sons would be staying at my house
for a few days,
but I wasn’t ready to admit it. “How about a hot, gooey cinnamon roll?”

“I’d really like that. I haven’t eaten much lately. My stomach’s been tied in knots.”

“Coming right up.”

I went to the kitchen, took my cell phone out of my pocket and called Trent. When he didn’t answer, I called Fred. “Can you find me a shelter for abused women?”

“Yes, I can do that. Has Henry been abusing you? I knew that relationship would never work.”

“Ha ha. It isn’t for me. Remember Tina, Kenneth Wilson’s wife? Remember that beating you saw with your hidden camera? I’ve just seen the results. She’s left him.”

“Good for her. I have to give her credit. I didn’t think she had the courage to do that.”

“Yeah, about that. She says I gave her the courage to leave.”

“So now you feel responsible for her.”

“No, I don’t.”

He remained silent.

I sighed. “I guess I sort of do. You said yourself our visit probably made things worse for her. Find me a shelter that will take her and her three kids. Please! I’ll make you an endless supply of chocolate chip cookies.”

“You already do that. I’ll get back to you when I find something.”

He hung up.

Fred never feels the necessity to say good-bye. He considers it a waste of time.

I took a cinnamon roll to Tina. “Hang tight. You’ll have a place to stay before lunch.”

Sometimes I have been known to lie.

When the lunch crowd started coming in, my alert ramped to bright red as I studied each man who came in, trying to determine if he was a potential stalker or Tina’s abusive husband.

Fred called back shortly after noon. “I’ve found a shelter that will take Tina and her boys.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and went to the kitchen so I could take the call in private. “Thank goodness! Where is it?”

“They will only give the address to Tina. She has to call them and get directions.” He gave me a phone number. I flipped over a business card and wrote the number on it.

“There is a problem, however. They don’t have room for them until Sunday.”

“Sunday? That’s two days away.” My voice rose to a high-pitched squeak.

Paula looked up from making a sandwich.

“They can stay in a motel room for two days.” Fred didn’t have kids. Of course he saw no problem with that scenario.

“No. Find somewhere that can take them now.”

“Lindsay, shelters for abused women aren’t as commonplace as motels, and they don’t have a lot of vacancies. This shelter has a woman and two kids moving out on Saturday, so they’ll get Tina in Sunday. That’s the best deal I could come up with.”

If Fred said it was the best deal, it was the best deal.

Damn!

“What’s wrong?” Paula asked.

I slipped my phone back into my jeans pocket. “We can’t get Tina and the boys into a shelter until Sunday. There’s no space for them.”

Paula’s gaze locked on mine. “We can’t send her back to that man.” Her voice was soft, low and urgent.

“Of course not. She can stay in a motel. If she doesn’t have the money, I’ll pay for it.”

Paula’s shoulders straightened rigidly and her features took on a determined expression. “She doesn’t need to be alone in some cramped, anonymous motel room. She can stay at my house.”

If not for the skin around my face, my jaw would have dropped to the floor. “Excuse me? Miss Privacy is inviting a stranger and her three kids to stay in your house?”

“I was a stranger to you, but you helped Zach and me. I don’t know if I could have done it without you. The least I can do is pass it on and help another woman and her children.”

Paula would do it, take four strangers into her home, but she’d be a nervous wreck. She’s come a long way the last couple of years. When I first met her, she grabbed Zach and headed for the safe room when the Avon lady rang the doorbell. Okay, she doesn’t have a safe room, but if she had one, she’d have hidden in it for most of that first year.

These days she answers the door when the UPS man comes and even has a male friend (she won’t let me call him her boyfriend) who spends time with her. Nevertheless, I was quite certain she wasn’t ready for four strangers invading her home for two nights.

I threw up my hands. “Oh, for crying out loud. I’ll do it! They can stay at my house. If I survived Rick’s mother, his brothers, his ex and his son, I can surely survive Tina and her—” I gulped— “three sons.”

Don’t get me wrong. I like kids. Well, some kids. I adore Zach. Rick’s son, Rickie—not so much. I don’t dislike him, but I fervently hope he never comes to stay with me again. I had no idea what Tina’s boys were like, but the sheer number of them was intimidating.

“You don’t need to do that,” Paula said. “I’m okay with letting her stay with Zach and me.” She wasn’t. I could tell from the determined, terrified look in her eyes.