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Chocolate With A Side Of Murder Page 3
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Jessica leaned in and gave me a hug. “I love you, Sabrina. Happy birthday.”
I paused the video right there as my emotions proved too difficult to bottle up. Luckily, I had a box of tissues by my side. That box could be empty by the end of the night.
There was one defining thing that stood out as I watched all of those old videos. Each clip served as an example of just how full of life my sister had been. How much love she had in her heart. And how kind she was.
Each recording that I saw of her made me miss her even more. She had been so full of potential. Growing up, I always believed that she was destined to do great things. Then, just like that, she was gone, never to be heard from again.
That last part certainly wasn’t from a lack of effort. After Jessica’s disappearance, the police had conducted an exhaustive search that had spanned a series of months. By the time they were done, it seemed like they had scoured every inch of Treasure Cove and the surrounding areas looking for her. That was why it was so hard to swallow the fact that there was nothing to show for their efforts.
In all their months of searching, they weren’t able to uncover a single clue that pointed to what had happened to Jessica. It was like she had just vanished into thin air. I refused to accept that as an explanation. The truth was out there somewhere, I just didn’t know what it was or how to find it.
To me, the lack of closure was the real killer. It didn’t matter how much time had passed. As long as a cloud of mystery continued to surround my sister’s disappearance, my wounds could not heal.
Days kept speeding by on the calendar, but in a way, part of me always remained trapped in that horrifying moment, running back and forth down that country road, calling out hopelessly to my sister, only to receive no reply.
Unfortunately, that dangerous playground was where my thoughts decided to drift off to. Before I was overcome with too much sadness, my happy-go-lucky six-year-old corgi, Snickerdoodle, jumped up on the couch and curled up beside me. His bark was enough to pull my head from the clouds.
Snickerdoodle gave me the kind of doe-eyed puppy-dog look that could melt my heart. The best thing about corgis was that they were such naturally happy animals that it was hard to be sad around them. So much of the time, their mouths were open, making them look like they were smiling.
If their jovial moods weren’t enough of a welcome sight, they also happened to be adorable to no end. With such stumpy legs, long bodies, and satellite-dish ears, it was hard to deny their cuteness. When I spent time around Snickerdoodle, it typically didn’t take long for my mood to improve. That theory was suddenly put to the test.
Regardless of my emotional state, I wasn’t about to deny my little guy the pats that he so desperately wanted. I talked to Snickerdoodle like he was an old friend rather than a dog who didn’t speak a word of English.
“I know you’re doing your best to cheer me up. Unfortunately, it’s just one of those nights.”
Snickerdoodle didn’t give up. With his mouth open, he continued to hold his tongue out as he gave me an adoring gaze. I admired his determination to cheer me up.
Even though I was still an emotional wreck on the inside, I forced a smile so that Snickerdoodle didn’t feel like his efforts had been in vain. He put his head down on my lap and wagged his tail.
As I looked down at him, I was touched by what a good heart he had. He wasn’t just loyal and affectionate—he was the best dog I could ever ask for.
He also didn’t look like he was determined to stay by my side for as long as it took to cheer me up. In true dog fashion, all of his plans went out the window when he heard my doorbell ring.
Snickerdoodle sprang up, bounded off the couch, and bolted to my front door, barking the entire way. He was eager to see who was on the other side of the door, but I sure wasn’t.
I had no intention to answer the door. Most likely, whoever was there wanted to sell me some magazine subscriptions. Either that or they worked for some activist organization that wanted me to sign a petition. Even on the off chance that a little girl was at the door trying to sell me delicious cookies for her scout group, I wasn’t interested.
My lack of response didn’t deter whoever was at the door. A second doorbell ring followed, which only made Snickerdoodle bark even louder.
I remained on my couch, determined to ignore whoever was at the door until they went away. Imagine my surprise when the next noise I heard was the sound of my phone ringing. As I looked at the caller ID screen on my phone, I realized that the call was coming from my boyfriend, David Carlson.
Before I had the chance to take the call, I heard David’s deep, booming voice talking to me from the outside.
“Sabrina, if you’re there, will you open up?” he asked.
I knitted my brow. What was he doing here at such an early hour? David didn’t even get off work until six. I looked down at my phone to see what time it was.
Yikes.
Amazingly enough, it was seven o’clock. It turned out that I had been watching videos on my laptop for longer than I thought.
There went the afternoon. It was nightfall. No wonder David was at my door. We were supposed to go out for dinner.
I got up from my couch and opened the front door.
“Hi, David,” I said.
David was five-eleven and muscular, with short black hair and a square, clean-shaven face. The twenty-eight-year-old wore a blue button-down dress shirt and a pair of tan slacks. What I noticed most about him right then, however, was the concerned look in his soulful brown eyes.
He immediately saw that I was in rough shape. “Are you okay?”
I lied to him. “I’ll be fine. It was just a crazy day.”
He didn’t believe me. That wasn’t a surprise. After all, the man was a police detective. He had a knack for sniffing out the truth. Besides, David knew me all too well. It was hard to hide much of anything from him, much less raw emotions. Empathy was one of David’s strong suits.
He wrapped his arms around me. “Come here. Whatever is going on, we’ll get through it together.”
It felt good to be in his arms. I wanted him to know just how much I appreciated his attempt to comfort me. “Thank you.”
He pulled back from the hug and stared into my eyes. “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”
My face tensed up. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Do you want to cancel dinner?”
I shook my head. “No. I need to get out of the house. I think some fresh air will be good for me.”
“It’s okay. We can reschedule. Or I can order a pizza, and we can stay in if you’d like.”
“That’s so sweet of you to say, but I do believe that the best thing for me to do right now is to get out of the house.”
“Sure thing. Whatever will make you feel better.”
“Just give me a minute to freshen up,” I replied.
“No hurry. Take as long as you need.”
I assured him. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
He smiled at me. “It doesn’t matter how much time you take. You’re worth the wait.”
It was going to take more than that to turn the evening around, but that compliment was certainly a good start.
Chapter Six
After putting on a white blouse and a blue skirt, I ran a brush through my hair before heading off with David to my favorite restaurant. There was a simple reason why Home Away From Home was one of the most popular restaurants in town. It was a place where comfort food was always on the menu. It turned out that I couldn’t have too much comfort on a night like that.
Not that David hadn’t provided me with plenty of his own. He was a great boyfriend—caring, attentive, and kind hearted. I knew from experience how difficult it was to find a man like that. Unfortunately, before David came into my life, my romantic past had been checkered at best.
Take my ex-boyfriend, Wally Tuttle, for example. He was neither caring, nor attentive, nor kind hearted. Wally only pr
etended to be those things. Deep down, he was nothing more than just a raging alcoholic. At first, I hadn’t been able to see beyond the smoke screen that he put up. I foolishly believed that he truly was a charming man instead of just pretending to be one.
Over time, Wally didn’t even bother putting up a façade. He was too busy getting blitzed. When it became apparent that Wally loved the booze more than he loved me, I ended things between us.
After getting out of such a bad relationship, I wasn’t in any hurry to give another man a try, even a better one like David. To David’s credit, he was patient with my heart. It took some time, but David eventually won me over.
Looking back, I was glad that David had been willing to put in all the effort to earn my trust. He was truly a wonderful man—not to mention highly intuitive. He didn’t just get hunches when he was investigating a case. They came to him in his personal life, too.
“Been thinking about your sister again?” he asked.
I wanted to change the subject as quickly as possible. Talking about Jessica wasn’t going to change anything. It certainly wouldn’t bring her back. If anything, discussing her disappearance would only lead me deeper down a rabbit hole that would result in an uncomfortable amount of wallowing. What I needed to do right then was to break the cycle, not continue it.
I tried to change the subject. “Did you find anything odd at the old Watterson estate?”
David and I had been dating for over a year. During that time, he had learned to pick up on my subtle and not so subtle cues. Sensing that I was desperate to talk about anything other than my sister, he didn’t force the issue. Instead, he replied to my question.
“The Watterson estate,” he said. “Right. Yeah. I checked out the place. There weren't any lights on when I got there. Nor did I spot anyone or anything that may have caused the noise you told me about. Are you sure Kelly wasn’t just imagining things?”
I shook my head. “She was dead certain about what she had seen.”
He exhaled. “If the light truly was on, someone turned it off before I got there.”
My forehead wrinkled. “That’s odd. Did you see any sign of trespassers when you were there?”
“No.”
I stared out into the distance. “What do you think happened?”
David shrugged. “It beats me.”
“Kelly thinks the place is haunted.”
He grimaced. “I don’t know about that. Then again, I’m not eager to spend enough time there to find out.”
I snickered. “Who is?”
Before David and I were able to speculate any further, a peculiar sight caught our attention.
There was an old banquet hall on the way to the restaurant. The hall had shuttered its doors years ago. Ever since then, both the banquet hall and the building’s parking lot had sat empty. In the years since the place had gone out of business, I had driven by the banquet hall countless times and had not ever seen a single person there.
That night, the banquet hall had life once again. Not only was it operational again, but in addition to the dozen cars that I spotted in the parking lot, there was also a line of men—all wearing business suits—waiting to get into the place.
Hmm.
I didn’t remember ever seeing a doorman at the front door to the banquet hall before. There was certainly one there now. The brawny doorman checked the men in one by one.
As I fixed my gaze on the line to get into the banquet hall, a number of questions popped into my mind. When did the hall reopen? Was it now a nightclub? If so, why would someone turn a banquet hall into a nightclub when there were much more suitable empty buildings within city limits that weren’t located so far away from downtown?
My forehead wrinkled. “What’s with the line?”
David had a blank expression on his face. “I have no clue.”
He slowed his car down to the point where we were almost stopped.
“Is it some kind of party that we weren’t invited to?” I asked.
“That wouldn’t surprise me. My days of being a party animal are long over.”
“Not that you were much of a party animal to start,” I joked.
“You got me there. It turns out I’m a little too low-key to have ever truly partied like an animal,” he replied.
“That’s just the way I like it.”
David stared intently at the men that were standing in line. “I don’t really like the feeling this crowd is giving me.”
I zeroed in on the business attire that the men were wearing. “Me neither. Especially since I’m not getting the vibe that they are actually here to party.”
Upon further observation, three things stood out to me. The first was that there were no women in line. The second was that each of the men was wearing the exact same colored suit. Finally, and most interestingly, I recognized one of the men who was in line. His name was Tom Dillon. In addition to being a noted real estate developer in town, he also happened to be a regular at my family’s coffee shop.
David scrunched his nose. “What do you think this is?”
“I don’t have the foggiest idea. Whatever it is, our invitation clearly got lost in the mail,” I replied.
“I have a feeling that they didn’t send out any invitations to women,” he said.
“I’m getting that sense, too.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m suddenly very curious to find out what’s going on.”
“What about dinner?” I asked.
“The restaurant isn’t going anywhere. These guys, meanwhile, look like they are in a hurry to get into that hall. Do you mind if I pull in there and check it out?”
There was an old saying about great minds thinking alike. That sentiment seemed particularly true at that moment. We were completely in sync.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” I replied.
David pulled into the parking lot and stopped just next to the front door. By then, the doorman had checked all the men in but one.
As David got out of his car, the doorman let the last man inside the hall.
“Good evening,” David said.
The doorman closed the front door of the hall before turning to address David.
“Evening,” the doorman replied.
The doorman’s response had been filled with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. Due to David’s urging, I watched the conversation unfold from the passenger seat of David’s car. I knew that David figured I would be safer that way.
While I had agreed to hang back, I listened intently and observed as much as I could. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to work with. I didn’t recognize the doorman. He just looked like a tall, brawny pile of muscles who was allergic to smiling. Even more apparent was the thirtysomething’s eagerness to get rid of David and me.
David stared the doorman down. “What’s going on here?”
The doorman was terse. “A meeting.”
“What kind of meeting?”
The doorman narrowed his eyes. “The kind that is none of your business.”
David always kept his police badge on him. At a time like this, that seemed like a very wise decision. David pulled out his badge and held it up.
“I don’t know that we have been properly introduced. My name is David Carlson. I’m a detective with the Treasure Cove Police Department.”
The doorman shot him a glare. “Good for you. This is private property. There’s no trespassing allowed.”
David folded his arms. “Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on?”
The steely expression on the doorman’s face remained. “This is an invite-only meeting, and you’re not invited.”
“You’re not helping your case here.”
The doorman raised his voice. “This is a free country. People are allowed to hold private meetings.”
David shook his head. “At an old banquet hall that shuttered years ago? Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on? I wouldn’t want to have to get a search w
arrant.”
Most people would be trembling with fear at the mention of a search warrant.
The doorman held his ground. “You’re overreaching, and you know it. But go ahead and try to convince a judge to give you one. The fact is, you have no justifiable grounds for one because you are lacking a sufficient level of suspicion.”
My head was nearly spinning when I heard that answer. Not only did this guy have some serious guts to stand up to David like that, but he was also far savvier than I had given him credit for. Although his answer did make me wonder what he really did for a living.
Apparently, the same questions that were bouncing around my mind had stoked David’s curiosity as well.
“Who are you?” David asked.
“I’m the doorman.”
David scoffed. “What kind of doorman knows legal protocols?”
“The kind that also knows privacy rights. Now I’m only going to tell you one more time. This is private property, and you are trespassing.”
David stared deep into the doorman’s eyes. “Is that how it’s going to be, then?”
The doorman glared back at David. “It is.”
I could tell that David wanted to barge into the building. At the same time, I knew he wasn’t going to do that. Not only was he off duty, but without a search warrant, he had no legal grounds for entering the hall.
Realizing that he wasn’t going to get any further with the doorman, David reluctantly returned to his car.
***
David let out a groan from the driver’s seat. Even though a number of things were on my mind, given David’s frustration level, I decided to let him speak first.
It took him a few moments, but he finally broke the ice. “Something very strange is going on here.”
“Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to figure out what it is. At least not tonight,” I replied.
David stared intensely at the banquet hall. “I may not have justifiable grounds to get a search warrant, but I’m going to keep my eye on this place. It is giving off a really creepy vibe.”