The Chocolate Puppy Puzzle (12 page)

Joe pulled into Aunt Nettie’s drive, and Aunt Nettie got out her house keys. “That cottage is outside the city limits,” she said. “I’ll call the sheriff.”

“No, wait!” Aubrey’s voice was sharp. “I’m beginning to think we’re overreacting to this whole episode.”

“Aubrey! Someone shot at you!”

“I’m sure it was some sort of accident.”

“Even if it was, you can’t simply allow people to fire around wildly without complaining about it.”

“But why would anybody want to shoot me?”

“Why would they want to shoot any of us?” Joe said. “Let’s see if we can find the bullet hole.”

We all got out and looked. The bullet hole was high up on the SUV, right at the back, where the roof met the side. Joe got Aubrey to restage the shooting, to stand right where he’d been when the shot rang out. Then he whistled softly. “Aubrey, that guy didn’t miss you by six inches.”

Aubrey looked a little green, but he stuck to his argument. “It must have been some sort of accident.”

“I guess the guy saw the outback hat and thought you were a kangaroo,” I said. “Are we going to call the cops or not?”

Joe hesitated, to my surprise, and Aubrey carried the day. Or at least a compromise was reached. Joe said he and Aubrey could drive Aunt Nettie and me back to town, then show the SUV to Chief Jones privately. They’d tell him what had happened without going through the county dispatcher. Maybe, since the dispatcher wouldn’t be using the radio to send out a patrol car, we could keep the report quiet.

I thought it was screwy, but Joe was, after all, a lawyer. He was even Warner Pier City Attorney. If he thought that was good enough, I wasn’t going to argue. I’d spent enough of my day making statements and being quizzed by detectives. But knowing that some unknown rifleman was prowling around on the Snow farm less than twenty-four hours after its owner had been beaten to death seemed highly suspicious to me.

The SUV was the only vehicle available, so Aunt Nettie and I accepted a ride back to TenHuis Chocolade. As I got out of the SUV, I did reach behind the seat to give Monte’s chocolate-colored hide a pat.

The first thing I saw as I walked in the door was more dark chocolate puppies. Dolly Jolly was standing at a big worktable in the front of the shop, molding them.

“Oh, hi!” she said. As usual, Dolly’s voice was loud enough to shatter glass. “Lindy Herrera came by to see you, Lee!”

“Did she say what she wanted?”

Dolly didn’t answer for a long moment. She was pouring molten dark chocolate into a mold that made a dozen one-inch dogs. The mold was arranged something like an ice tray and Dolly was carefully filling each compartment with melted chocolate she ladled from a big stainless steel bowl at her elbow. This is one of the first jobs Aunt Nettie gives new employees. It looks easy, but when you’re learning, it’s best to concentrate, and Dolly was doing that. I could tell by the way she was sticking her tongue out.

She put her ladle in the bowl, then tapped the mold gently on the table to remove any air bubbles. Next she picked the mold up and ran a spatula across the top, scraping any excess chocolate back into the bowl. Then she looked up at me and spoke. “All Lindy said was that she’d heard a juicy bit of gossip! But she didn’t offer to tell it to me! Said she’d wait for you!”

“A juicy bit of gossip. Hmm. I’ll give her a ring.”

But first I had another job to do. I’d put off telling Aunt Nettie about Aubrey’s lack of credentials as long as possible. I couldn’t tell her what Maggie had said, but I needed to tell her at least as much as I had told Vernon.

I turned to her. “Aunt Nettie, could you come in the office a minute. There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

Aunt Nettie sighed. “Can we put it off? Lee, I should make a condolence call on Maia and Vernon. Can you come with me?”

I must have frowned, because she went on. “After all, I was out to dinner with them last night. I guess I could go alone.” She sounded doubtful.

“No, I don’t want you to do that,” I said. “I’ll give Lindy a quick call, then go with you. We can talk when we get back. Do we need to take food?”

“Maybe a plant would be better. We can stop at the Superette.”

Maybe I was looking for an excuse not to tell Aunt Nettie about Aubrey. Anyway, I put it off.

Lindy wasn’t in her office, so I left a message, and Aunt Nettie and I left on a condolence call I’d rather be shot than make.

Come to think of it, I nearly had been shot. A shiver ran around my shoulders and down my back. Then we got in my van and headed back the way we’d gone earlier, turning off the interstate at Haven Road. Only this time we turned inland, away from Lake Michigan, to reach Ensminger Orchards.

Vernon and Maia’s house was nothing special. It was just an ordinary one-story, white frame house with no claim to either architectural or historic significance. Any significance the farm had came from the outbuildings. The house was surrounded by wellmaintained barns, machine sheds, and storage buildings. The property gave the impression of prosperity, but it looked as if every cent had been plowed back into the orchard business. The house was unimportant in the overall layout.

I might have blamed Vernon for this, but the yard Aunt Nettie and I parked beside didn’t look special, either, and that was usually the farmwife’s responsibility. There was no fence or flower bed. The shrubs needed trimming, and one lone tree had been planted smack in the middle of the patch of grass that passed for a lawn. The only other trees nearby were peaches and apples planted in the usual neat rows.

Aunt Nettie got out of the van with the pot of ivy she’d bought at the grocery store. I moved close to her and spoke softly. “From the looks of the yard, we’re abandoning this poor ivy to a terrible fate.”

“It’s only a plant, Lee.” Aunt Nettie’s voice was sharp.

As we walked toward the porch, Vernon opened the door. “Oh, hello,” he said awkwardly. “It was nice of you to drop by.”

I expected him to step back and invite us in, but he didn’t. He just stood there, blocking the door, as we approached. Then he stepped outside and let the storm door close behind him.

That was certainly not hospitable. But it was surprising.

Aunt Nettie smiled sweetly, just as if he’d strewn flowers in our path. “We wanted to tell you and Maia how sorry we are about her uncle.”

“She’s resting.” Vernon looked back into the living room nervously. “I’ll tell her you came by.”

“It must have been a real shock to her,” Aunt Nettie said. “Are there other relatives?”

“Not close.” Vernon wasn’t budging from in front of that door. “My sister was down from Grand Rapids for a couple of hours.”

There was a long pause. I didn’t know what to say, and apparently Aunt Nettie didn’t either. Finally she moved toward the porch, holding out the ivy plant. “We wanted to bring this.”

Vernon looked panicky. To take the plant, he had to either move away from the door, toward Aunt Nettie, or he had to let her come within reaching distance of him. He stepped forward, still holding on to the door handle behind him. Then he moved back, still clutching the handle. Apparently he wasn’t able to decide which of the two alternatives to pick. I stared. It was fascinating. I could almost read his mind. He couldn’t decide if he should let go of the door, or if he should let Aunt Nettie come close enough to . . . to what? See into the house?

What was eating big, old, reliable, solid Vernon?

Then I heard a tinkling laugh. It was Maia’s phony ha-ha, but it didn’t come from inside the house. It came from my left. I swung my head in that direction, and Maia herself came around the corner.

“Oh, you’ve brought a plant,” she said. “Aren’t you two darlings?”

“We’re very sorry about Silas,” Aunt Nettie said.

Maia made a strange little sound, someplace between a choke and a giggle. “Uncle Silas and I weren’t close,” she said. “But I guess I’m the only relative he had.”

“That’s what Vernon said.”

Maia made that strange noise again. “It’s funny. My grandfather had three children, but my mother was the only one to marry. Except for Aunt Julia, of course. The one who ran off with Dennis Grundy. Of course, she was from an earlier marriage. She was a half sister to my mother and Uncle Silas.

“She never contacted the family after she left. If she had children, we didn’t know anything about it.” She giggled or choked again. “So I was the only child in my generation. And now I’ve outlived them all. I’m the last of the Snows.”

Vernon moved, finally, letting go of the storm door. “I thought you were lying down,” he said to Maia.

Was I imagining the challenge in the way Maia looked at him? “I thought I’d take a walk,” she said.

We obviously weren’t going to be asked inside, so Aunt Nettie began to make motions toward leaving. She handed the ivy to Maia. “We just wanted you and Vernon to know that we’re thinking of you. And please call on us if there’s anything you need.”

I decided I’d better chime in. “Yes, if you need . . . anything, we’re here.” I turned toward the van, unable to think of anything more to say. I had my hand on the door handle before I was inspired to make another comment. “And thanks for letting us visit the cottage.”

Maia didn’t say anything, but Vernon spoke. “Don’t mention it.”

“It’s pretty interesting,” I said. “I hadn’t realized it had been in use as recently as it had. And the orchards behind it—they’re beautiful.”

Maia did that little giggle business again. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just what I said. The orchard behind the cottage is beautiful. It looks well-cared-for and perilous—I mean, productive! The orchard looks productive.”

“Silas was a good fruit man,” Vernon said. He moved close to Maia and put his arm around her shoulder. “He could be cantankerous, but he was a hard worker.”

Maia giggled, then pressed her fingers against her lips. Aunt Nettie and I said good-bye, then got in the van and drove away. As fast as we decently could.

“Maia’s getting stranger and stranger,” I said.

“She acted almost normal last night. Subdued, the way she used to act.”

We were silent a moment, then I took a deep breath and prepared to tell Aunt Nettie about Aubrey. I began that way. “About Aubrey . . .”

“That really mystifies me,” Aunt Nettie said. “Why anybody would shoot at him. But I don’t want to talk about him, Lee.”

“But, Aunt Nettie, there’s something—”

She smiled and patted my hand. “Now, Lee, don’t worry. I’m not going to give him any money. And speaking of money, how did we come out on the special order of chocolate-covered Oreos?”

I tried to report on Aubrey once more before we got back to work, but she cut me off again. And during the hour and a half we spent at work that afternoon, she simply refused to talk to me privately. I was completely balked. I had to face it; Aunt Nettie didn’t want me to say anything about Aubrey.

When Tracy came in at four, all excited about her upcoming hair appointment, I had to give up on Aunt Nettie. I promised myself I’d talk to her at home.

Tracy was so excited about her new haircut that she had showed up at TenHuis Chocolade an hour early. Aunt Nettie put her to work wrapping Santas until it was time to go, but I’m not sure if Tracy was a lot of help. She was simply bouncing with excitement.

I was relieved when her mom called. “Lee,” she said, “I really appreciate you taking Tracy for a haircut.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I wouldn’t want to do anything you don’t approve of.”

“I’ve been trying to get her to cut that stringy mess for two years. And since it’s ol’dumb mom suggesting it, she has refused. She’d look so much better with a body perm.”

A body perm? None of the high school girls had a perm. I could see why Tracy had dodged her mother. “I’m going to leave it up to Angie,” I said cautiously. “She’s the hair expert. I have a feeling she’ll suggest a blunt cut. It may still be straight.”

Mrs. Roderick laughed. “As long as it’s not too strange a color. That’s all I’m worried about.”

I was worried about a lot more than that. Tracy was setting her heart on a part in Aubrey’s movie—a movie I believed would never be filmed. On the way over to Angie’s shop I tried to warn her.

“Tracy, this Mr. Armstrong—don’t forget he’s a stranger. Just because he claims to be a movie producer—”

“Oh, Lee! You talk just like Mrs. McNutt.”

“Mrs. McNutt and I have been around talent shows and beauty pageants, Tracy. We’ve learned the hard way. A lot of these guys are not for real. They just want to take advantage of pretty girls.”

“Pretty girls?” Tracy’s voice was awed.

I pressed the point home. “Young, pretty girls like you, Tracy.”

She thought a moment, and when she spoke her voice was slightly subdued. “Mr. Armstrong told me never to go to any sort of tryout without my parents.” Then she bounced back. “But I still want a new hairdo.”

Poor Tracy. She didn’t want her dream punctured, but it was going to be.

Angie’s skill made Tracy look a lot more grown-up, as well as more attractive. I hung around and put in my two cents’ worth while Angie did her makeup. Then Tracy insisted on taking me out to dinner at the Dock Street Pizza Place. She wanted to show off her new look at the main community hangout. Joe was tied up with a city council meeting, so she knew I didn’t have a date. It would have been cruel not to go along.

The result was that by the time I got home Aunt Nettie had gone to bed.

It wasn’t late, but her door was shut and there was no light under it. I banged around in the kitchen for a while, but Aunt Nettie didn’t come out.

I went to bed and read a book. I read quite a long while, actually. It seemed that every time I turned out the light I heard the
thunk
of that rifle bullet hitting Aubrey’s SUV.

Once I got off to sleep, I must have slept soundly. Anyway, when Aunt Nettie came to my room, she had to shake me before I was able to wake up.