Fatal Chocolate Obsession (Death by Chocolate Book 5) (14 page)

“Your garage is falling down,” Connor said.

Drake stepped closer to peer inside. “You don’t have a motorcycle.”

“Dad’s going to let me ride his motorcycle when I’m twelve,” Wade said proudly.

Tina came out of the garage carrying two suitcases and gave me a
No, he isn’t
look. Ken might be a bully, but I sensed that Tina was in charge of the kids—as much as anybody is in charge of kids, especially when they come in packs.

I took one of her suitcases, grabbed the bag of leftovers, and we crossed the yard to the house. The boys darted around us, eager to explore their new surroundings.

I opened the front door and, as expected, King Henry waited just inside. But he didn’t step out to wind around my legs or give me a homecoming head butt as he usually does. He surveyed the group behind me, tilted his head arrogantly, hefted his tail into the air and trotted toward the kitchen.

“Welcome to my home.” I stepped inside and held the door to invite the others in.

Tina came in with her suitcases and all three boys tried to come through the door at once. After much scrambling and shouting, they managed to get in and I locked the door behind them.

A cell phone rang. It was a generic sound, not the wind chimes tone I had my phone set to, but I didn’t have my phone anymore. I put my bag of goodies on the coffee table and reached for the burner phone in my pocket.

Tina held hers in her hand and stared at it as the ringing continued. I peeked over her shoulder. A picture of Ken Wilson along with his first name showed on the screen.

Oh boy. The fun begins.

“Can we turn on the TV?” one of the boys shouted.

“Sure, go ahead.” What was one more source of noise?

Tina continued to stare at her phone which continued to ring. “Should I answer it?” Her quiet words trembled and hung in the air.

“Uh…” I had no idea what to tell her. She needed Paula’s advice, not mine. Sometimes I answered Rick’s calls and sometimes I ignored them. “If you want to talk to him, answer. If you don’t, ignore it.” That was the best advice I could come up with.

She looked at me with a terrified expression. “I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Don’t answer.”

“He’ll keep calling.”

“Keep not answering.”

She bit her swollen lip. “Would you mind if I kept the kids inside this evening instead of letting them play in the yard? I just worry about Ken somehow finding us.”

I nodded, recalling Paula’s protective attitude toward Zach. It was better now, but she still worried. Of course Tina would worry about her sons.

Underneath the shouts of the kids and the roar of the television, I distinctly heard the sound of a hungry tiger in my kitchen. Okay, a distant relative of a tiger, but he sounded upset.

“Excuse me. I have to feed my cat.”
And get away from the bedlam.

“Get your feet off the sofa and sit up straight.” I was pretty sure Tina wasn’t talking to me so I kept going.

When I first moved into the house, a door separated the kitchen and the living room. I like open spaces. That door currently resides in the garage. I wondered briefly how long it would take me to put it up again.

Henry looked into his empty bowl then up at me accusingly.

“Chill out. You’re not going to starve.”

He continued to focus his ice blue stare on me. He didn’t believe me.

I poured nuggets in his bowl and added some stinky, fishy mixture from a can. He needed to be fortified to face the evening.

“Mama, he hit me!”

“Did not!”

“Sit down and be quiet, all of you.” Tina’s voice.

I couldn’t tell if they sat down but they didn’t stop shouting.

About half the stinky, fishy mixture remained in the can. I raked it all into Henry’s bowl then watched him eat. No, I don’t usually stand and watch my cat eat but I wasn’t ready to go back into the melee. Tina’s boys didn’t seem as bent on destruction and disobedience as Rick’s son had been, but they weren’t quiet and sweet like Zach either. I wondered if Zach would turn into a wild boy in the next three years.

Probably.

I tossed the cat food can into the trash and opened the refrigerator door. Coke or wine? It was only five thirty, but the evenings were growing shorter with the approach of winter. A shorter evening justified an earlier first drink.

“Why haven’t you answered your phone?”

I gasped and spun around to see Fred standing in my kitchen doorway. He was immaculate as always, every white hair in place, knit shirt and blue jeans unwrinkled, black framed glasses free of spots. Nevertheless he had a disheveled look about him. Running the obstacle course that existed in my living room would have that effect.

“Are you talking about my land line? I just got home. I guess I didn’t hear it ring over all the noise.”

“No, your cell phone. I’ve left eleven messages. I was getting ready to call Trent when you drove up with your new roommates.”

“Oh, my cell phone. I don’t have that anymore. Grady Mathis came into the shop today, yelled at me and stomped on my cell phone.”

Behind his sparkling lenses Fred’s eyes widened. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple lifting and plunging with the action. “Lindsay, we need to talk about him.”

“It’s okay. He won’t bother me again. The cops are going to arrest him for creating a public disturbance, destroying my property, and just generally being a disgusting excuse for a human being.”

“That’s good news. Is Trent coming over tonight?”

“Yes. He wants to get that box and wrapping paper from you that the butterfly came in.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I believe Grady is Rick’s attacker. I found Rick’s blood on the wrapping paper.”

I stumbled to the table, pulled out a chair and sank into it. “You mean…?” I couldn’t say it. I was having a hard time wrapping my brain around the implications of what Fred had just told me.

He sat in a chair next to me. “I mean your secret admirer tried to kill your ex-husband.” Fred doesn’t believe in wasting anything, not even words.

I opened my mouth but only one syllable came out. “Coke.”

“Lindsay, did you just croak?” Sophie stood in the kitchen doorway. She wore a white cotton blouse that set off her dark hair perfectly, and she looked totally composed. Had she come up from the basement through a hidden trap door I didn’t know about or down through the roof? She could not possibly look that serene after coming through the fracas going on in my living room.

Fred unfolded himself from his chair and sauntered to the refrigerator. “She needs a fix.” He took out a cold Coke, popped the top and brought it to me. “Did you bring home any chocolate? I think you need some before we go on.”

“It’s in a bag on the coffee table.”

“I’ll get it.” Sophie started to the living room.

“Don’t go in there!” I warned.

She turned back. “Why not?”

Really? Had she gone deaf?

“Give that back! It’s mine!” Drake shouted.

“Is not!” Wade declared.

“Mama!”

“Wade, take this car and leave your brother alone.”

“Don’t move a muscle or I’ll shoot!”

I was pretty sure that last came from the TV. I fervently hoped it came from the TV.

Apparently my idea that Tina was in control of her sons had been naïve.

“Sophie, there are kids in there,” I said. “Lots of kids.”

“I know. Aren’t children adorable?”

I looked at Fred to see how he was taking that comment. He doesn’t do well around kids. Or cats. Or dust mites. Or dust.

He sat down again, looking completely unconcerned. Either he really was unconcerned or he was pretending.

Sophie smiled and disappeared into the chaos.

“Do you think she’ll make it back alive?”

“Don’t worry about Sophie. She’s stronger than she looks.”

“How do you know that?”

He scowled. “How do you
not
know that?”

Fred would have made a good politician. For all I knew, that might be on his resume.

“Lindsay, there’s a possibility Grady killed Ginger.”

His voice was calm and quiet, and it took a couple of seconds for his words to register. I blinked a few times, forcing my mind back to a place it didn’t want to go. “Uh…what?”

“If we assume Grady tried to kill Rick then rushed to your house to leave a gift, we can assume he was trying to help you by killing someone who caused you problems.”

“We can?”

“It fits the pattern.”

“It does? What pattern?”

“The pattern of being obsessed with someone, bringing gifts, doing what the stalker considers good deeds to win the love of the object of his obsession.”

“How would he know about Rickhead? Yeah, I complain about him a lot, but I’m sure I never complained to Grady.” I wrapped my arms around myself and shuddered. “I have never shared anything personal with that creep.”

“From the content of his poems, we know he’s been watching you. He may have been monitoring your activities for some time. He could have seen Ginger when she came to your house in the middle of the night. He could have witnessed Rick’s rampage in your restaurant. With all the electronic devices available, he could have listened to your conversations at home and at work. He could have watched you through your windows at night.”

Thinking of that awful, creepy, disgusting man watching from the street was bad enough, but the thought of him watching me eating, sleeping, and talking on the phone slid over my skin like spiders and put a bad taste in my mouth. I tried to wash it out with Coke, but it even made the Coke taste bitter.

Sophie returned to the kitchen and set my bag of goodies on the table then sank gracefully into a chair beside Fred.

I opened the bag and drew out a brownie but stopped before shoving it into my mouth. “It’s full. All the cookies and brownies are still here.”

Sophie nodded. “Tina told the boys they couldn’t have any until after dinner. They’re such good kids.”

“You can’t kill me!” Connor shouted. “I’m a zombie!”

“I’m a werewolf and I’m gonna eat you all up!” Drake threatened.

I bit into the brownie, hoping the taste of rich chocolate would overpower the sour taste of Grady watching me as well as the noise of those good kids in the other room.

But not even chocolate could cover the bile from the thought of that man. I choked down the bite in my mouth and set the rest on the table.

“Are you okay?” Sophie asked.

“No. Not even close.” I swallowed then licked my dry lips. I did not want to voice my fears, hear them spoken aloud and let them escape into the universe with the great and terrible power of words.

Sophie laid a hand over mine. “None of this is your fault. You can’t blame yourself for what a mad man did.”

Apparently I was the last to know murder had been committed in my name. I tried another drink of Coke. It was flat, all the happy bubbles gone.

“I believe we’re dealing with a very dangerous man, a psychopath who’s lost all touch with reality,” Fred said.

“And I fed that psychopath chocolate in my restaurant.” I shivered as those spiders made another trip across my skin. “I’m glad he’s going to be behind bars soon. I wouldn’t sleep a wink tonight if I thought he was still out there.”

Fred drew in a deep breath. He was getting ready to say something I wasn’t going to like. “I think it would be a good idea if I spent the night over here.”

Everybody thinking I needed a bodyguard was getting a little old. “Sure,” I said. “Sounds like a great idea. Would you like to share the sofa with Tina or the guest bed with the boys?”

“Actually, I thought I could bring over an air mattress and sleep in front of the door.”

“I was planning to borrow that air mattress for one of the boys.”

“I have more than one air mattress. I’ll bring two.”

“You’re being silly. By now Trent has arrested Grady and hauled him off to jail. Anyway, Tina’s going to be sleeping on the sofa, and your snoring would keep her awake.”

“I don’t snore.”

I looked at Sophie to see how she’d react, if she’d affirm or deny his assertion. She was nibbling on a cookie without getting crumbs on the table.

“Trent volunteered to spend the night here, and I’m going to tell him he can.” Sure, it was a lie, but it was such an absurd lie, nobody would believe it. That kind of lie doesn’t count in the negative column in the karmic realm governing truths and lies.

“And he’ll be happy to take you up on that.” A familiar voice came from the kitchen doorway.

Busted.

Trent took the remaining chair at the table between Sophie and me.

“You were eavesdropping,” I accused.

“It’s still admissible in court. I even have two witnesses who also heard you say you’re going to let me spend the night here.”

I shrugged. “As long as you sleep in my bed, that’s fine.”

“We’ll borrow both of Fred’s air mattresses. The third boy in your guest room can use one, and Tina can sleep on the other in the upstairs bedroom where you keep your computer. I’ll sleep on the sofa near the door.”

I stood. “That’s ridiculous. There’s no way Ken can find my house, and with Grady in jail and Rick in the hospital, I’m safe. Speaking of dirt bags, Fred has something to tell you about Grady. I believe we’ve solved a couple of crimes for you.” Perhaps
we
was stretching it a bit, but I deserved a little credit since I was the psycho’s focus. “In the meantime, I’m going to order pizzas. Feed the zombies and werewolves.”

I took my cell phone from my pocket, moved to one side of the kitchen and placed the order while Fred and Trent talked. The din from the living room had become so loud, I could barely hear the pizza people. Fortunately I ordered pizza so often, I knew what the questions were and could respond even when I couldn’t make out the words. I couldn’t make out what Fred and Trent were saying either.

I grabbed four cans of Coke and a stack of paper plates then ventured into the living room. Surely they’d be quiet while they were guzzling Coke and anticipating pizza.

Tina sat on the sofa with her cell phone in her hand and a dazed expression on her face. The boys were taking full advantage of her virtual absence to wreak havoc. Fortunately I didn’t have anything breakable in the room, but they’d used all the books from my bookcase to make a fort that didn’t survive an assault from enemy forces. Or maybe it was friendly fire. Hard to tell in the melee.

Drake crouched under the coffee table and growled while Wade and Connor charged around the room, shouting, jumping over the table, onto the sofa and off the back of the sofa. It was a very durable sofa.

Henry pressed against my leg and I realized he’d followed me from the kitchen. I looked down at him. He looked up at me, flattened his ears and skirted around the room, hugging the wall, pausing only long enough to hiss when somebody darted close. He reached the stairs and flowed upward in a streak of white and gold.

I looked for the remote control to turn off the TV and stop some of the noise, but I didn’t see it. Probably another casualty of the war. I walked over to the set and pressed a button, effectively silencing a lizard with an ambiguous accent who was trying to sell us insurance. The boys continued their shouting and mayhem and Tina continued to stare at her phone.

I crossed to the sofa, skirting the coffee table and the werewolf holding siege under it while two soldiers/vampires/zombies attacked. Connor wielded the remote like a sword.

I set the unopened Cokes on top of the werewolf’s cave and sank down next to Tina. She must have turned off her ring tone because her phone was silent though a call was coming in from
Ken.

“He’s calling nonstop now.” She spoke softly without lifting her head. “He’s filled up my voice mail.”

“That doesn’t sound good. Have you listened to any of the messages?”

She nodded. “His first message was sweet. I almost caved. He said he was getting worried because the kids and I weren’t home. He wanted to know if I needed help. Then he must have checked the bedrooms and found the missing clothes and suitcases because he started leaving mean, horrible messages, calling me names and saying things like how I’m his wife and I have no right to do this and he’s going to make me pay when he finds me.”

“Don’t worry. We’ve got a cop and a…” I paused, unsure how to describe Fred. A spy? A hired assassin? Black ops? “A cop and a man who does Karate and owns a machine gun.”

She turned the phone over and laid it on the cushion beside her, hiding Ken’s face from view. “Thank you for everything. I know that the boys and I are safe here, but I’m still terrified he’ll find us.”

“He’ll be sorry if he does.”

She placed a hand over the phone, hiding it from view. “Even if I don’t talk to him or listen to his messages, he’s still in my head. The physical abuse is only part of it. I keep hearing all the terrible things he constantly says to me, how I’m worthless and not a good mother and could never make it without him and any other man would leave me and…” She paused and forced a smile. “I know I have to get away from him, but I don’t know if I can.”

“Yes, you can. I’ll call Paula. She’ll come over and talk to you. She’s been through this.” I took my cell phone from my pocket.

Tina lifted hers from the sofa. “I’m going to erase all those horrible voice mails he left.”

“No! We need those as evidence.”

“Evidence?”

“Monday we’re going to call the lawyer who handled my divorce. He’ll file divorce papers for you.”

Her eyes widened.

“Okay, maybe we’ll start with a legal separation and an order of protection.” As the daughter of a lawyer I knew how much good those restraining orders did. Usually it was like waving a red flag in front of an enraged bull. But maybe the process would give Tina more courage.

She swallowed, blinked and finally nodded. “Okay.”

I had to wonder if she was so accustomed to taking orders from Ken, she’d agree to anything I told her to do. That was not necessarily a bad thing as long as I was telling her what to do, not Ken.

I called Paula and she came over immediately.

I expected Zach to be intimidated by the loud, boisterous boys the way he’d been intimidated by sly, sneaky Rickie. To my shock and horror, when the boys invited him to play with them, he dashed over and began jumping and shouting along with them.

Paula gave me an
OMG, what have you done to my son?
look.

I couldn’t stand it any longer. I had already sustained as much permanent hearing damage as if I’d sat next to a speaker at twenty rock concerts with no ear protection. “Stop!” I screamed and was answered with a moment of beautiful silence.