Truffled to Death (A Chocolate Covered Mystery) (2 page)

I’d dared to ask Vivian if she was sure hiring Reese was a good idea, given her penchant for hysterical headlines like:
West Riverdale Stars Football Team Is Out of This World!
;
Keep
Banned Books Off Your Kids’ Kindle
; and
West Riverdale Council Abandons Town
, when the members took their annual vacation. Vivian had told me, rather frostily, that Reese’s contract ensured that the Rivers maintained strict control over all of the photos. The warning in her voice made me believe Reese would stay in line.

Luckily, I hadn’t been the target of Reese’s sensationalist style of journalism for a while. Both Erica and I had done a good job of keeping a low profile over the summer after our amateur murder investigation had turned into a fiasco.
While we had outed two murderers, both Reese and I had almost been killed in the process.

Even though Reese had moved onto others after I’d practically saved her life, I suspected that getting the most hits on her “news” website wasn’t the only thing she was interested in. For some crazy reason, her sense of high school rivalry went deep and it wouldn’t take much for her to attack me again.

Exiting the limo behind Vivian was Adam River and his younger siblings, Gary and Jennie. At thirty years old, Adam had already taken over the real estate division and manufacturing plants of the River family businesses. Only a few years younger, Gary had none of Adam’s drive. And young Jennie was facing her own demons.

Adam helped out his grandmother, Rose Hudson, and guided her into the wheelchair that had been unloaded by the driver. He waved away the driver’s help and pushed her into the store, with everyone else trailing behind.

They were undoubtedly siblings, all three of them blue-eyed and blond with strands that lightened to white in the summer. The boys retained the distinctive nose, but every River female had the offending bump removed.

Adam had on a beautifully tailored suit with a red tie that flapped around his neck as he came in the store. Gary had thrown a sports jacket over a white button-down shirt and pair of khakis, and must have spent a lot of time on his hair to make it look so fashionably disheveled. Jennie wore a short skirt over colorful green and orange tights. If I tried those, people would think a Muppet had thrown up on me, but with her cropped leather jacket and dreadlocked hair, she looked more funky than I’d ever been in my life.

Our West Riverdale neighbors were the first to arrive.
The Rivers had spared no expense, and people who had zero interest in Maya history or hadn’t even left their homes after dark for years had called the babysitter, dressed themselves up, and come down to enjoy the free wine and appetizers of the biggest party of the season.

Then the beautiful people from the neighboring cities and towns began to arrive, the men in designer suits and the women in little black dresses and glittering jewelry. Just one of those necklaces would pay for the industrial chocolate-tempering machine I constantly ogled in my chocolatier magazines.

Aviles came out to take one look at the crowd and rushed back to the kitchen. I didn’t think we could fit this many people into our store. Normally I’d worry about the fire marshal complaining, but he’d just waylaid Kayla and was shoving crab taquitos into his mouth.

Reese was inside now, taking the regular high-society shots of glamorous donors, side by side, smiling perfectly into the camera.

My brother Leo was standing with a group of fellow veterans, his arm around the waist of his girlfriend Star. She was the first woman he’d dated in the years since he’d returned home from Afghanistan after losing his leg. He’d made so much progress in his fight against his depression, and his happiness with her was the icing on the cake. They’d been together all summer, and he’d even fixed up his apartment to make it more homey. I hoped it was in preparation for Star to move in.

“You look amazing,” I told her.

“Thanks!” Star was wearing a shimmering navy dress that fell below her knees, accentuating her athletic build and highlighting her hazel eyes.

I pointed to the diamond necklace in the shape of a star. “Love the necklace.” I’d helped Leo shop for it.

“Isn’t it great?” She turned a blazing smile on Leo.

“Need any help?” he asked.

“No, but thanks,” I said. “Enjoy the party.”

Several people who I assumed were from the museum arrived, and the professor and Vivian greeted them. One man broke off from the group to talk to Erica. He was dressed almost like a toy soldier, with a short, buttoned jacket with brass buttons, and cigarette pants folded up to show an inch of white socks. His brown hair was manicured, and he’d obviously planned his appearance in detail.

I was about to bring out more Blackberry and Goat Cheese Darks when Gary decided to heave himself up and sit on my counter. My counter! Where I served food! Then his sister Jennie joined him and they sat there kicking their feet back and forth and watching the party as if they were little kids in a tree house.

I made a beeline for them. “Get down now.”

Gary raised his eyebrows as if he didn’t know what the problem was.

“Your butts do not belong where people put food,” I insisted. “Off!”

They both reluctantly slid to the ground and then looked around for a new place to park themselves. When Gary eyed a small table without chairs that had been temporarily cleared of food, I told them, “Go sit on the stairs or something.”

They turned for the big wooden staircase that we’d roped off for the party, but stopped as Vivian appeared at my elbow.

“Reginald.” Vivian’s voice was laced with disapproval.

Reginald? If that was my name, I’d use Gary too.

Everyone knew that Vivian was fierce in maintaining the
family reputation. “You have host duties.” Her dour tone made it sound as much fun as Saturday morning chores.

Jennie slipped away silently and Vivian let her go with narrowed eyes.

“Sorry,” Gary said with a shrug and joined a group of younger guests gathering around the glass drink dispensers filled with El Diablo’s lethal punch of fruit juices and rum. I thought I saw him shoot a wistful glance at the stairs.

I’d heard all about Gary’s dedication to doing as little work as possible while still holding on to his trust fund. Rumor had it that Adam had bought him the Big Drip Coffee Shop and made him manager as a last-ditch effort to instill some kind of work ethic in Gary.

“He takes after Bertrand in far too many ways,” Vivian said bitterly. Then she changed back into her normal gracious self. “The event is going swimmingly, Michelle. Perhaps it’s time for the professor to make his announcement.”

I nodded, wondering how many people could get away with using the phrase “swimmingly” so easily, and tracked down the professor, who was plopping olives in his mouth while pretending to listen to an older woman. I couldn’t hear her over the noise of the crowd, but the professor looked past her the whole time. As I approached him, he did a double take, obviously recognizing someone off to my right and not liking it. I couldn’t resist following his glare to a gorgeous man strolling into the party. Whoa. This guy could be a model for Bad Boys R Us. He paused to pull on his shirt cuffs, as if he’d just put on his suit jacket, and I could see his diamond cufflinks flash from across the room.

Kona’s hot-man radar was on full blast and she put herself in front of him in a split second, offering a tray of chocolate
truffles, with her hip angled to imply another offer. He smiled at her, his teeth blinding against his resort-tanned skin.

Dr. Moody took an involuntary step toward the man, and I remembered my assignment. “Professor?” I said.

He stopped to focus on me.

“Vivian River would like you to make your announcement now?” His furious expression made me end the sentence on a question.

Lavender must have sensed a disturbance in her Professor Force since she was instantly beside him, glowering at me as if his anger was all my fault.

“Vivian said it’s time to make the announcement,” I told Lavender, sounding like a tattletale.

His face smoothed over and jovial Professor Moody was back. “Of course.” He walked toward the display, pulling the microphone from its stand.

“Hello?” he said into the mic and it screeched, getting the attention of everyone in the room. “Thank you all for coming.”

Kona scooted by me, and I whispered, “Who’s the cutie?”

“Dibs!” she said. “He’s got the most delicious accent.” She sent a flirtatious look over her shoulder in his direction, but Gorgeous Man was watching the professor.

Jolene Roxbury, high school math and drama teacher, gave me an arch look. “If I was ten years younger and not happily married, I’d hit that.”

“Jolene!” I said. She and her husband were the happiest married people I’d ever met.

“What?” she said. “I’m in love. Not dead.” She took a champagne glass from her husband, Steve, who returned from the
bar, and then she slipped her arm around his waist as the professor began his speech.

“Tonight we’re here to honor the River family, the generous donors of this beautiful and important art to the very fortunate Baltimore Museum of Man.” He gestured toward the display. “These pieces, along with many more antiquities in the collection, will help unravel the mysteries of the ancient Maya.”

He went on. “We are all very lucky that Bertrand River’s adventures took him to Central America at a time when he could discover so many different pieces from so many different eras.”

I noticed that Adam was attempting to push his grandmother’s wheelchair to the front, and I led the way, tapping shoulders to make room. Once she was in place, I moved around the side to the back of the room and saw a man standing by the kitchen door.

It was Bean. Erica’s brother.

My crush.

My heart started beating faster. He hadn’t seen me yet.

Mine
, something inside me whispered again.

I shut down that errant thought. Bean was not mine. He belonged to the world.

What was he doing here? Last I heard, he was on the Canadian and West Coast segments of his worldwide book tour, riding a wave of rave reviews. He’d been in town for a few weeks in May and then taken off with barely a good-bye. Almost patting my head as if I were still the middle school kid he’d been forced to kiss in a spin the bottle game ages ago.

He was wearing a beautiful suit. His publisher probably
insisted on it. Then I realized that Erica must have known he was coming. Maybe this was what she’d been so stressed about. Wait. Had she taken me shopping so I could look halfway good for her brother?

It could be that she felt responsible for the sputtering end to what I thought was a pretty hot flirtation. I’d never told her about eavesdropping on their conversation. Soon after I’d been almost killed by West Riverdale’s most notorious murderer in a century, I was sure Bean was about to seal the deal with our relationship. And then Erica had told him to think about what he wanted. That I had “abandonment issues”—like, who didn’t?—and he should realize that he couldn’t just fool around with me and then take off when the next story called to his journalist soul.

I’d almost screamed then and there that he could fool around with me all he wanted! No commitment needed. But after Bean left, I’d realized she was right. If it hurt that much when we weren’t even involved, how much would it hurt if he left in the middle of something that I thought of as special and he thought of as a fling to fill the time between book signings?

Of course, Reese Everhard’s blog highlighted every single photo she could dig up of Bean being hit on by some dazzling woman across the globe, along with some salacious headline. My least favorite was “Too Sexy for Sweden.”

He saw me and all of that evaporated. He looked a little stunned and I realized he’d never seen me in a dress. And then he smiled as if he was really glad to see me. I walked toward him, feeling like I was in a fog. People magically moved out of my way, just like in a really cheesy romantic comedy.

I was almost close enough to say something when I heard
a noise. A low sound hidden by the professor’s words. And then a wail rose and he stopped speaking.

The expression on Bean’s face turned to concern and I fell out of my hypnotic state. Together we rushed toward the crying as the crowd pushed away from the source.

Rose Hudson was pointing at the display case, sobbing incoherently. The professor stood holding the microphone, openmouthed with surprise. Adam attempted to calm his grandmother down, but she moaned even louder, “Cursed! Cursed!”

P
oor Rose covered her face with her hands, muffling her sobs. Adam got down on one Brooks Brothers–clad knee beside his grandmother. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped her tears. “It’s okay,” he repeated several times in a gentle voice as he rubbed her shoulder. “Do you want to leave now?”

When she bobbed her head behind her hands, he stood and wheeled her toward the main entrance, nodding at Professor Moody to continue. The limo driver appeared like magic to lift the chair to the sidewalk, ignoring our ramp.

Vivian made an imperious gesture for the professor to speak, her expression livid.

The professor stumbled back into his talk, and I followed Adam out. Rose seemed to have shrunk even smaller in her chair. “Is there anything I can do?” I asked.

Adam frowned as if he couldn’t quite place me. Really? After all we’d done? Then his face cleared. “No, but thank you, Michelle.” He turned to watch the driver lift Rose into the car, and I felt dismissed.

Which totally made me want to stay. “I could put together a little goodie bag for Ms. Hudson,” I offered a little nonsensically, since the driver was already walking around to get into his seat.

He ignored me as he watched the limo go, a worried frown between his eyebrows.

“Does she really think the pottery is cursed?” I asked. No way could that little chocolate bowl hold anything except goodwill and grace.

“Of course not,” he said, turning to go back to the party. “She’s just confused.”

Bean came to the entrance and this time I was more prepared.

“Benjamin Russell!” Adam said heartily. “How are you, you old dog?”

Old dog? Was he thirty or seventy? “He goes by Bean now,” I said with what I hoped was a saucy smile. It may have quivered a little when Bean grinned at our inside joke.

“Benjamin is fine,” he said to Adam and shook his hand.

Adam tried to put his arm around Bean’s shoulder in the timeworn
let’s you and I have a little chat
gesture, and said, “I’d love to hear about your book,” but Bean executed a slick avoidance move that showed a lot of practice.

“Of course,” Bean said. “I’ll see you inside in a minute.” He stared at me, and my heart started thudding in my chest.

Adam looked between us, clearly surprised, and then left us alone. Or as alone as we could be right outside a huge party.

“Erica didn’t tell me you were coming back to town,” I said.

“I wasn’t sure I could make it.” He took a few steps closer. “You look great.” He winced.

Professional writers must feel like they should come up with better words than “great.”

He tried again. “Like a fairy,” he said. “Whimsical.”

I tilted my head. “Whimsical?”

“Give me a break.” He grabbed my hand. “I missed you.”

“You did?” Pure delight danced through my veins.

“Michelle!” Kayla yelled and then saw who I was talking to. “Never mind!”

But she’d broken the spell. “I should . . .” I pulled my hand away and waved it aimlessly toward the door.

“Sure,” he said. “You’re busy. Would you like to go out to dinner sometime?” It sounded formal, which was totally weird. Was he nervous?

“Are you okay?” I asked. “Not, like, dying of cancer or anything, right?” It was my turn to wince.

He smiled. “Nope. So dinner? Steamed crabs? Tomorrow night?”

“Sure.” Excitement fluttered in my stomach. And not because I loved steamed crabs as much as any Maryland native. Maybe it was the chicken tamales I’d pilfered from El Diablo. “Coming back in?”

He shook his head. “Just stopped by to see you and Erica. I’ve had to deal with too many . . . people lately.”

That reminded me of all the “people” photographs I’d seen on Reese’s blog, and my good mood deflated. “Okay. You staying with us, I mean, Erica?”

“Yep,” he said cheerfully, as if he knew how that drove me crazy. “Right upstairs.”

I made sure not to watch him walk away—okay, maybe a little bit out of the corner of my eye—as I went inside.

The professor had finished his words, and the crowd had seemed to swell even more in the few minutes I’d been outside. The Latin beat of the music had picked up and a few people were dancing in place, almost as if they didn’t realize it.

El Diablo stepped out from the kitchen to see what was needed and frowned at me when he discovered holes in my arrangements. How could I help that my truffles were so popular?

I intercepted the tray Kona was carrying and filled in the open spaces. A breeze blew through the open door, a warning of the rain that would soon start. I had a moment of gratitude that it had held off so long, and then something prickled up the back of my neck.

A new gorgeous man, this one with long hair pulled back into a Johnny Depp ponytail, stood in the doorway. His eyes flickered around the room and I stopped to watch him, feeling like an animal about to cross the plains, knowing a predator waited somewhere. Or like turning left at the Jasmine Road stop sign right outside of town, where cars speed around Devil’s Bend, ignoring the Stop Sign Ahead signs until it was too late.

He met my eyes, as if sensing my discomfort, and I swear his green eyes glowed for a second. In some ways, he was similar to the delicious man Kona had laid claim to, but just a little darker. Darker hair. Darker tan. The veneer of civilization wafer thin. Someone you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley. Not that West Riverdale had many of those.

I brushed off the fanciful nonsense and looked away.

Kayla approached him with a tray, shaking her hair to
allow her cute blond curls to fall across her face. She must have won the coin toss with Kona.

I watched him take a bite of a Cherry Ambrosia truffle and close his eyes, as if he couldn’t help himself. I could almost taste the kirsch and dried cherries along with him.

“Someone is having a sale on tall, dark and dangerous,” May said, tugging at her Spanx through her sparkling green dress. “Maybe he likes ’em middle-aged and plump.”

I laughed. “He should be so lucky.”

Nara stared at him with wide eyes. “Maybe he likes ’em tiny and exotic.”

I watched him lean closer to Kayla and say something that made her laugh. “Looks like he likes ’em young and adorable.”

“Too bad.” May sighed. “Have you seen Lentil, I mean Coco?”

“Lentil?”

She waved her hand. “Sorry. That’s what Iris calls her. Says she’s the exact color of the diner’s lentil soup. Plus a few other choice names when Lentil, I mean Coco, threw up on her shoe.”

Served her right for naming my cat after soup. “Someone said Coco was out back.”

May was even more into Coco’s kittens than I was. “I’ll take a peek,” she said, but then she didn’t move.

We turned to look at Tall, Dark and Handsome 2.0 in time to see Kayla point to me. I felt rooted to the spot as he made his way over.

“Ms. Serrano,” he said, his voice soft and low with a Central American accent. He wore some kind of woodsy cologne that made me think of the jungle. “I’m Santiago
Diaz. Your Miss Kayla told me that you made these delicious confections. I’m in awe.”

My thank-you ended in a squeak as he took my hand and kissed it! Like in a movie. Right there in the middle of my store. In the middle of West Riverdale, which hadn’t seen a hand kiss like that in probably ever. I think May and Nara squeaked along with me.

“These are my friends, May . . .” I couldn’t remember her last name. “And Nara.”

“Delighted.” He kissed their hands as well, his ponytail low on his neck. “How lucky to have such a talented pâtissier as a friend.”

They both nodded. They would have agreed if he’d said “such a talented serial killer.”

“Oh no,” I said. “I only make chocolates, not baked goods.”

“Hmm,” he said, as if reserving judgment. “Such a sophisticated palate you must have.” His voice was mesmerizing, but then I sensed something underneath the smooth talk. My BS meter was going off big-time.

“Are you friends with the Rivers?” It came out a little more challenging than I intended.

His eyes widened just a tiny bit, as if he was surprised that his flattering words weren’t working. “No. Just curious about the beautiful treasures from my heritage.”

“That’s wonderful,” I said. Over his shoulder, I saw one of the catering staff gesturing wildly to me. “Excuse me. Duty calls.”

“I’ll show you the exhibit.” May grabbed his arm and steered him toward the display.

“Eddie just quit!” The teen girl in the red shirt with the
El Diablo logo and black pants was practically wringing her hands.

“Eddie?” I asked.

“The sous chef!” Her voice rose with alarm. “Can you get someone to help me clear dishes so I can take his place?”

“Of course,” I said. “I’ll do it.” It was a miracle Eddie had lasted as long as he had with the abuse Aviles piled on him.

I picked my way through the crowd, piling used plates on my tray to take back to the kitchen, but Vivian and Gary were blocking my way.

“Where’s Jennifer?” Vivian held Gary’s arm by the counter, their faces turned away from the crowd.

I loaded even more plates on my tray, and could almost hear his shrug. “I don’t know. She was just here.”

“You were in charge of watching her,” she insisted.

I glanced over and saw him wince, but I wasn’t sure if it was from Vivian’s words or her tight hold.

“I’m sorry,” he said, with the emphasis on the second word. “I was talking to the new mayor and she just disappeared.” I wasn’t sure if he was worried for his sister or mad for being called out about her leaving under his watch.

I’d finished cleaning up the plates at the edge of the counter and now couldn’t avoid trying to scoot by them. “Excuse me.”

Vivian let him go with a frown.

I could understand her worry. Everyone knew about poor Jennie River. She’d taken her father’s death a few years before very hard. At twenty-one, she’d just been through her third attempt at rehab. From the concerned expression on Vivian’s face, perhaps it hadn’t been successful. But what did I know about young rich people and their drug habits?

I smelled it even before I opened the door to my kitchen.
The overflowing garbage can assaulted my nose, reminding me of why I was so careful with scents in my workspace. If any of my chocolates absorbed even a whiff of the cooked onions, charred garlic, or whatever else was part of that disgusting smell, they’d be ruined. Another reason to hate El Diablo, who was nowhere to be seen.

Cursing under my breath, I closed up the bag and took it out the back door, catching Gary River in the act of escaping.

“Just pick me up, man,” he said into his phone. “I’m so done with this granny crowd.”

I let the door shut and he turned around, mouthing an
I’m sorry
when he saw it was me. He’d pushed up the sleeves of his jacket to his elbows and untucked his shirt, looking way cooler than he had minutes before. I hadn’t noticed his small cross dangling from his ear before.

“Okay,” he said with his eyes on me. “Five minutes by the diner.” He closed the phone. “Sorry ’bout that.”

“No problem.” I went down the steps to the Dumpster, the garbage scent trailing behind me.

Coco must have heard my voice and she came out from under the porch. She meowed piteously, like I was keeping her out in the cold, hard world.

“Hey, Coco,” I said, but she took one look at Gary and dove back under.

“Is that your cat?” Gary asked.

“Not really,” I said. “She’s her own cat.”

“She doesn’t seem very friendly,” he said.

I didn’t know why I felt the need to apologize. “She’s shy around new people.”

“What’s in there?” He waved his hand to try to move the smell away from his face. “Body parts?”

I laughed. “I hope not. Although I wouldn’t put anything past El Diablo.”

“Yeah,” he said. “My mom loves his food but he’s nuts.” He checked his phone. “Gotta bail.” He took off in a jog toward the diner.

•  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •

I
turned over and slammed off my alarm clock the next morning, still tired. The reception had gone way past what we’d planned, and it was eleven before we’d been able to convince Tonya Ashton, the last of the stragglers, that last call meant last call. Luckily, her patient and totally sober husband had eventually steered her out the door so we could clean up, but not before she’d told me several times rather emphatically that this was the best night out she’d had since her baby was born.

El Diablo had left my kitchen a mess, and it had taken us an hour to get it back in shape. We had to rethink the idea of using my kitchen for events. Although if every out-of-towner who’d told me they loved, loved,
loved
my chocolate and couldn’t wait to order from my website actually did, it may have been worth it.

Once we got home, all I could think about was Bean. Right above me. Just lying there. Or laying there. Erica would know.

It probably would’ve been bad to do what I wanted during my restless night, which was to bang on the ceiling with a broom and demand that he come downstairs and help me get to sleep. Or not sleep.

Disgusted with myself for pining away for Bean, I jumped out of bed. Sunday was the one day of the week when running was optional for me, and the one day I didn’t make
chocolate. Instead I usually had a leisurely morning and opened the store with Erica at eleven.