The Diva Steals a Chocolate Kiss (13 page)

Dear Sophie,

What is alkalized chocolate and why do I have to use it? Aren’t all cocoa powders pretty much the same?

—Confused in Cocoa Ridge, Georgia

Dear Confused,

Alkalized chocolate, also called Dutch chocolate, has been through a process to neutralize some of the acidity. As a result, it has a darker color and a deeper chocolate flavor and is recommended in many recipes. It is generally paired with baking powder because it doesn’t react to baking soda in the same way that natural chocolate does.

—Sophie

The woman who resembled Coco followed me out of the store. Two things were in my favor. Truffles would make anyone except the most coldhearted person feel warm and
fuzzy. She would probably give Nina and me instant credibility as decent people whom the woman didn’t need to fear. And Nina had unknowingly been wise in her table selection. It was in the shade but public enough for the woman to feel secure.

“This is my friend, Nina Reid Norwood, that’s my dog, Daisy, and the little rascal is Truffles.”

Just as I expected, the woman sat down and fussed over Truffles. She didn’t neglect Daisy, but the happy, wriggling puppy couldn’t be resisted. “I love chocolate Labs!” she cooed at Truffles.

Nina shot me a confused look.

“And you are?” I asked.

“Kara Merano. You work for my dad?”

Nina and I gasped. Not the best way to make Kara comfortable.

We introduced ourselves. “I’m an event planner. Joe hired me for the events in connection with Amore’s sixtieth anniversary celebration. You’re Coco and Dan’s sister? Or half sister?”

“They might wish I wasn’t their sister but biologically we’re full siblings, no matter how they feel about it.”

A sibling squabble of some sort? That might explain why she wasn’t staying at her father’s house. It certainly couldn’t be for lack of room. I handed out the lattes, uncovered the water bowls for Truffles and Daisy, and set them on the ground near Nina’s feet. “Are there any more siblings?”

“No, just the three of us.”

“You look so much like Coco,” said Nina. “Are you twins?”

Kara smiled. “We always looked a lot alike. I’m two years younger than Coco.”

“You don’t work for Amore?” Surely I would have met her if she did.

“No. I live in Colorado. I came to Old Town when I heard Dad was missing. Do you know where he is?”

Well, wasn’t that interesting? I was pretty sure I saw her
going into the B and B the night he disappeared, which meant she was already in Old Town before her father dropped out of sight. I tried to trip her up. “You heard about that all the way out in Colorado?”

“His administrative assistant, Marla, called me.” Kara took a big swig of her latte. “I’d forgotten how hot and humid it is here in the summer.”

“How long have you lived out west?” asked Nina.

“A long time. Decades.” She focused on me. “What do you know about Dad? Is he okay?”

“I’m sorry if I misled you. I don’t know much. He seems to have vanished without a trace.”

Her upper body sagged. “Has Coco hired a private investigator?”

Nina’s eyes met mine. “Haven’t you talked with her?”

“No. Only with Marla, and she doesn’t seem to know much.”

I sipped my latte. Who came to town and didn’t contact her siblings? Especially when their dad couldn’t be found?

“Do you have any idea where Joe might have gone?”

“How would . . . No. I don’t even know where to start looking. I’m so afraid for him.”

“Why?” asked Nina.

Kara blinked at her like she was stupid. “People don’t just disappear. Something must have happened to him. It can’t be anything good, or his administrative assistant wouldn’t have called to ask if he was with me.”

“Is there any possibility that he’s out in Colorado, searching for you?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve been in touch with my neighbors and coworkers. They’re watching for him.” She stroked Truffles with a gentle hand and gazed up at me with hope. “You said he has my picture in his bedroom?”

I nodded. “It’s pretty worn, like he looks at it a lot.” I thought it best not to mention that it was hidden in a drawer under sweaters.

She shielded her eyes with one hand, but it didn’t hide the sniffles or the tears that rolled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I never imagined he might . . . die. That sounds so stupid. But now that it’s a possibility, it breaks my heart to think I might never get to see him again.”

“You think he’s dead?” Nina blurted.

Kara wiped away tears with her fingers. “I hope not! But what else can I think?”

She scribbled a phone number on a napkin. “Here’s my cell number if you hear anything. I’m staying at the Honeysuckle B and B. I’ve been away so long that I don’t really know anyone in town anymore. Please don’t hesitate to call me with any news at all.”

I thought I might know one person who would be happy to see her. “Would you like me to bring Nonni to visit you?”

Her head shuddered, and her eyes widened in alarm. “No.” She stood up and said, “No! Please don’t do that.” She walked away, clearly upset by my offer.

Nina watched her go and whispered, “What do you suppose happened?”

“I don’t know, but she’s lying about coming here because her dad went missing. She was already here that night.”

Nina perked up. “Maybe she’s in on it.”

“You think she kidnapped him?”

“If your estranged kid called you and said she was in town, wouldn’t you go to see her?”

“I would.” Nina had a good point. “I definitely would. But why would she want to kidnap him?”

Nina shrugged. “Money?”

It wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities. Joe and the family had plenty of it and would gladly pay a ransom.

“Think Coco will tell you what the deal is with Kara?” asked Nina.

“Coco or Nonni. Or maybe Dan. We’ll have to figure out who might be most receptive. I’m going back inside to buy a few things for dinner tonight.”

“Okay. I’ll walk Truffles and Daisy home. It’s hot out here for them.”

I strolled into the store, thinking about Kara and the Merano family. The rest of them still seemed to be together, fairly tight-knit, in fact. The old picture that Joe kept told me that he cared about Kara. But he kept it hidden. What had Kara done to be ostracized?

“Ma’am?” The voice grew louder “Ma’am? You’re next.”

I looked up and realized the butcher was speaking to me. “Two pork tenderloins, please.”

He wrapped them and handed the package to me. I forced myself to concentrate on my shopping. Onions, gorgeous red peppers, and fresh white mushrooms went into my basket. For our lunch, I bought a rotisserie chicken, steamed green beans, and a macaroni salad that I knew Mars liked. I carefully packed the perishable items in my insulated tote, paid, and ambled out the door.

The heat was brutal. Francie might not want to eat outside. We would probably eat indoors anyway to accommodate Mars. I strolled home still thinking about Kara. I would check her out on the Internet, but if the problem arose twenty years ago or more, I probably wouldn’t find much. In fact, if it was a family issue, I wouldn’t discover anything. No, I would have to find a reason to ask Coco, Dan, or Nonni what had happened.

I stopped by Big Daddy’s Bakery for fresh bread. His adorable little granddaughter was running through the bakery at hyper speed. No one cared, except for Big Daddy’s assistant, who couldn’t catch the energetic little girl.

While Mars and I ate lunch, I let the butter and eggs for Francie’s cake come to room temperature. They were perfect when I was ready to undertake the cake I had promised Francie. I melted dark squares of unsweetened chocolate that reminded me of the three cherubs Dan had carved out
of white, milk, and dark chocolate. Had they been meant to represent the three Merano children? Was Kara the black sheep of the family like Arnie had been in his?

The mixer whirred, beating the butter with the sugar. I tossed in local eggs from the farmer’s market. The yolks were so golden they were almost orange. The batter thickened and changed color as I added the melted chocolate to it in a thick ribbon. After adding the dry ingredients, I poured it into two round cake pans and slid them into the oven.

Half an hour later, they perfumed the kitchen. I set each of the layers on a rack. They had to cool before I could frost them, which worked perfectly for me. I could get in a little paperwork in my office before checking on the winners and starting dinner. But first, I melted bittersweet chocolate chips from Amore in the microwave so they could cool before I made the frosting.

An hour later, I returned to the kitchen to frost the chocolate cake. I poured the thick chocolatey goodness into my KitchenAid mixing bowl, added vanilla, softened butter, and tangy sour cream and mixed them. Beating in powdered sugar brought it to perfect frosting consistency. I scooped a dollop with my finger and tasted. Delicious! I’d better frost the cake and refrigerate it before Mars got wind of it.

Natasha would have criticized me for not cutting the rounded top off the cake. But I thought it looked wonderful that way. I spread seedless raspberry jam across the bottom layer for a surprising bit of fruitiness, then topped it with frosting and set the other layer on it. The frosting swept over the sides smoothly. I mounded it on the top and spread it with artful swirls. Finally, I pressed miniature chocolate chips to the sides to dress it up a bit.

I moved it to the fridge and checked the time. The winners would return soon. I ought to be there when they came back, just in case any of them had a problem or needed
something. I brought the frosting bowl to Mars to lick and asked if he needed anything before I left. You would have thought I had handed him bars of gold.

I ventured into the hot summer day again and walked the few blocks to the hotel. I knew trouble was brewing the minute I saw Wolf waiting by the front steps.

“I’m afraid to ask what you’re doing here.”

“I’m glad to see you, too,” he quipped.

“Seriously. Are you waiting for the Amore winners to return on the bus?”

His mouth pulled tight when he nodded.

“I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me why?”

Wolf appraised me for a moment. “You’ll hear about it sooner or later. Remember the champagne glass you found with the pills in it?”

Oh no. This couldn’t be good.

“They were diazepam, a sedative and anticonvulsant. Very dangerous mixed with alcohol.”

“Then we’re lucky we didn’t have an emergency. Wouldn’t someone who takes those drugs know not to take them with alcohol?”

“You’d think so. Especially since the person didn’t take them.”

“What do you mean?”

“Most people swallow pills whole and wash them down with a liquid. They don’t dissolve them first, because of the bitter taste.”

I scrutinized his earnest face for a moment, unable to grasp what he was getting at. “Maybe he couldn’t swallow pills.”

“Or maybe
she
wanted someone else to swallow them but the pills didn’t dissolve.”

“Are you saying someone meant to kill Arnaud with the pills?”

Wolf heaved a sigh. “Have you got a better explanation?”

I didn’t. But my mind reeled from the implications. “So
you think Arnaud’s killer tried to dissolve the pills in champagne but then they didn’t disintegrate fast enough, so the killer strangled him instead?”

Wolf just raised his eyebrows.

“If you’re waiting for the bus, then you must know who it was!”

“We found fingerprints on the glass.”

“You’d think the killer would have wiped the glass clean.”

Wolf leaned against a railing. “Luckily for all of us, murder is exceptionally stressful. It’s very rare that the killer doesn’t overlook some little detail.”

The bus rolled into the driveway. I was feeling pretty stressed myself. “Were they Cheryl Maiorca’s? I’ve heard she had an argument with Arnaud.”

“Nope. Your former cop.”

“Lori Speer?” I was stunned. Surely a cop wouldn’t forget to wipe a glass clean. She was so exuberant, so full of life. As the bus ground to a slow halt, I asked Wolf, “Why?”