Murder By Chocolate Page 9

  “Investing is quite different from running a company, I think,” Violet said, “as do you. Quit teasing me and Aina.”

  Jack took a long breath in. “What a disgusting fiasco! Could anyone else have benefited from Anderson’s death? Anyone who wasn’t family?”

  “A last ditch effort to not have another murderer in the family?” Aina asked, glancing at Violet. “Your cousin killed your aunt, didn’t she?”

  “She did,” Violet said and then looked to Jack. “We’re cursed.”

  “So it seems,” he agreed darkly.

  Chapter 12

  Violet woke with a gasp. She sat up and then glanced over and saw Jack’s gaze fixed on hers. He’d left the light on in the bath, and she could see the worry in his gaze.

  “The cure for nightmares seems to have stopped working.”

  Violet felt tears burning as she laid back down, placing her ear right over his heart. “It seems even the best things become familiar.”

  Jack ran his fingers through her hair as she slowed her breathing. “Tell me something wonderful.”

  There was too long of a pause before Jack said, “I adore you.”

  She closed her eyes and breathed him in. “I love you too.”

  “You’re going to be an aunt soon.”

  That did make Violet smile. A moment later, she lifted her head and asked, “Is this world too wicked to have children? Maybe we shouldn’t bring them into such a terrible place.”

  “You’re in it, Vi. How could it be terrible?”

  She scoffed and then ran her finger over his chin, marveling at the prickles against her fingers. She met his gaze. “I’m not special.”

  “Right now, there is a girl in a ladies school preparing for college because you decided to love her.”

  “Anyone could love Ginny. She’s delightful and she helped me save Isolde when she didn’t know me at all.” Violet placed one of her arms over her eyes while Jack played with the other one.

  Jack pressed a kiss to the tips of her fingers. “There’s an illegitimate baby adored by her adopted parents in the country because of you.”

  “They would have found someone to give them a baby who needed to be loved eventually. They were always good people.”

  “And they’re in this world too, with you,” Jack told her. “They’re here and they’re making the world a better place. There are the orphans who have plenty of food and a good education because of you. There’s Kate, who would have been murdered by Robert. There are many wonderful things because of you, and someday Violet Junior will look up to her aunt and make the world a better place too.”

  Violet’s mouth twisted and she turned onto her back, keeping their fingers tangled. “There’s you.”

  “There’s Victor,” Jack added. “Kate, of course.”

  “Denny and Lila.” Violet’s tone made it clear she wasn’t sure they qualified, but they weren’t there to hear her teasing.

  “Ham and Rita and Ginny.”

  Violet felt tears burning in her eyes and nose. “Isolde and Tomas and their baby.”

  “Once Victor and Violet’s baby is here, will we be calling that one Violet Junior as well?” Jack asked.

  Violet shook her head. She adored Isolde and Tomas, but no one was like Victor.

  “Gerald and our fathers,” Jack continued. “If we decide to really stretch the boundaries of what we qualify as adding good to the world, there’s Geoffrey and Lady Eleanor.”

  Violet laughed until she cried, but the laughing tears made her feel far better than anything else had. “Shall we catch ourselves a killer?”

  “And then persuade Kate to go to Cypress with us. The most important part, Vi my love, is that we don’t let this evil ruin what we have. We could spend the rest of our lives seeing only the darkness. Who could blame us given what we’ve seen?”

  Violet was glad she’d turned onto her back, so he didn’t have to see her tears.

  “We could linger in those feelings.”

  She heard the worry in his voice. She did tend towards the grey days. She tended to wallow in the feelings or—perhaps not wallow—perhaps she just couldn’t shake it. She’d been trying so hard to stay out of the greyness. She had been journaling and moving her body regularly when she realized those things had been helping.

  She had been active in charity work and looking for chances to do good since she realized that helped. She felt better in general, and much of the time it worked. Jack didn’t want her to lose track of feeling better, and neither did she.

  “You’re right,” she said, twisting in his arms to face him. “We could linger in the greyness, but we won’t. I’ll help you out of them, and you help me out of them.”

  “Deal,” Jack said and kissed her fiercely.

  A while later, Violet fell asleep to the lullaby of his heartbeat.

  The following morning, the agreement was that Violet would track down Mariposa Jenkins and find out how the poison had been delivered while Jack approached the business to discover the feeling of the employees. Both of them felt certain that the underlings would have a far better idea of who might have known what. Violet swore that she would avoid the entirety of his family except for James.

  Jack swore that he would stay with the young, bright-eyed policeman, who further promised Violet in a very solemn tone to keep her beloved alive and safe. Jack kissed her on the forehead, tapped the top of the auto, and Violet started the day by delivering Lila and Denny to Victor’s home. Geoffrey, however, refused to leave Violet.

  “It’s not safe. They might…might…jump out from behind some…some…chemist shop and kill you too, Vi.” His pale skin had browned up just a little while he’d been fishing and with the redness of concern on his cheeks, he seemed almost healthy looking. Or maybe it was just in comparison. Even his plastered arm no longer seemed to bother him.

  Given that Geoffrey so very rarely cared about anything other than himself, Violet agreed to let him join her.

  The chocolatier’s home was not what Violet expected. She wasn’t surprised to find it a small row house. She wasn’t surprised to find it clean and tidy. She was surprised by the several small children in the yard.

  Violet knocked on the door with Geoffrey at her side. His gaze, like hers, was fixed on the little ones. They were, all of them, neat and clean. They were all bright-eyed and round. They were a little too timid and pale, but unlike Geoffrey, it didn’t seem to be the normal look for them.

  Mariposa opened the door, her eyes red, and Violet suddenly understood why the children were so upset. Their mother had fallen apart. Her hair was in a messy knot at the back of her head and her clothing wrinkled.

  Her gaze landed on Violet and she demanded, “Did you murder someone with my cakes? With the only way I have to support my family?”

  “No,” Violet said gently. “Are they yours?” Her gaze turned to the children again. Three girls and one boy, they were all younger than Violet would have expected for the middle-aged woman.

  Mariposa Jenkins nodded, her gaze focusing on them with a fury of worry.

  “They’re lovely children.”

  “They are,” Mariposa said. “God bless them for I’ve done what I can. Who will buy cakes from someone who killed with chocolate? How will I feed my babies if no one will buy the one thing I can do?”

  Violet turned back to her from the children. “Where is your husband?”

  “Dead,” Mariposa answered sourly. “He promised me a happy-ever-after and snatched it all away when he died. I’ve been trying, but…I can’t do this alone. Not now.”

  “I thought you had three sons,” Violet said.

  “From my first marriage.” Mariposa sniffled. “They can’t help me. They didn’t want me to remarry. They never liked my husband. They’re trying to support themselves. I shouldn’t have started another family. I’m too old for these babies, and I’m all they have, and now…I had three orders canceled along with my regular delivery for the bakery. She said people were as
king if my items were included in what she was serving and changing their mind on what they wanted.”

  Violet reached out to her. “Neither of us are guilty. So let’s figure this out, shall we?”

  “You can’t make people buy cakes from me, Mrs. Wakefield. There’s nothing to be done.”

  Violet frowned fiercely. “You have everything you need for a business to be successful. You have the skills, the imagination, and a solid business plan. I have the money to get you started. We’ll do whatever it takes.”

  Mariposa took a long breath in. “I won’t take charity.”

  “Yes,” Violet told her flatly, “you will to keep those babies of yours safe and fed. However, you won’t need to. Tell me how the instructions came for the cake.”

  It was clear that Mariposa didn’t quite trust Violet, but the poor woman didn’t have much choice. Before the murder, Mariposa had needed help to truly be successful. Now, however, she needed help just to survive. Violet was going to make sure both things happened.

  “I got a letter with the pistachios. It said to use them all because Anderson loved them to an excess. I had pistachio. My goodness, I almost used my own. They looked fresher, but the note said something about them being his favorite. I could have tasted them and died. My children could have tried a nibble. Do you know how often that happens?”

  Violet could guess and the idea made her as enraged as it did sick. Violet closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “Do you have the letter?”

  Mariposa nodded and let Violet into the house. Geoffrey, shockingly, stayed outside with the children, who had been watching with wide, frightened eyes.

  She led the way to a small desk in the parlor and dug through it until she found the letter. “It came with the pistachios in a small tin. I already gave that to the constables. They brought me home last night so I could hand it over.”

  “They didn’t ask for the letter?”

  Mariposa shook her head. “I suppose we didn’t really discuss it. I might have said that I received instructions. They were focused on where the pistachios came from rather than how I got the instructions.”

  Violet’s mouth twisted as she took the letter and looked it over. It was a simple typewritten note that was signed with a ‘V’ and a scribble. It looked nothing like Violet’s signature, but the point was to get the poison into play. The best that could be said of the letter was that it included what could now be read as a warning that the nuts were ‘special’ and must be used in full, without tasting or adjusting, for the cake. The note said that they were Anderson’s favorite treat and he could always tell the difference between the nuts.

  It was, Violet thought, a little ludicrous, but not unsurprising of the spoiled rich.

  Violet unintentionally crumpled the letter in her hands as she read it again. “Thank the good Lord that you’re trustworthy.”

  Mariposa had peeked over Violet’s shoulder as she re-read the letter. “It would have been so easy for the victim to be me or one of my children.”

  Violet examined the paper itself. The note was typed on official letterhead with an elaborate ‘Wakefield’ embossed at the top. She took the envelope as well, noting that it had been stamped with the Wakefield name and the address of—she thought—the business. It was the type of stationary that would be used by a business such as the one Grandfather Wakefield ran.

  Chapter 13

  Violet wasn’t very comfortable navigating the village where the country house was as they hadn’t visited enough. She was even less comfortable with the journey three towns over where the Wakefield house and family business were located. Geoffrey sat in the passenger seat with the map on his lap that Jack had drawn while Violet carefully backed the auto away from Mariposa’s house.

  “I think you need to turn left here,” Geoffrey said. He sounded so uncertain that Violet pulled to the side of the road and looked at the map with him. When they agreed, Geoffrey asked, “Why do you care about her?”

  Violet started to snap at him but instead she made herself stop and think. Once they were on the road again, Violet answered more calmly. “You know we’re just lucky, right? Being an earl’s child is only a random accident of birth. We could have been her. Or her kids. My mother died just like those children’s father died. It’s just sheer luck that we’ve been given what we’ve been given.”

  “You don’t think it is an act of God?”

  He didn’t sound obstinate and rude, so Violet didn’t give him the scathing look that comment deserved.

  Instead she said, “I don’t believe in the divine right of kings or earls or their children or any version thereof. There’s nothing special about me versus Mariposa Jenkins. I think she’s working far harder than I do to ensure her children are safe and happy. Isn’t that a sad story? Having to stand alone like that?”

  “How does she do it? She doesn’t have a nanny or anything.”

  The fact that Geoffrey both saw that and realized it made Vi’s heart outright sing with joy. She gave him an approving look and he flushed. “I imagine,” Violet said, “she works from the moment she wakes up through the moment she goes to bed, and she probably doesn’t get enough sleep as well.”

  Geoffrey glanced out the window and then gasped. “You need to turn there, Vi.”

  This time Violet turned where he said and then suggested, “We’d do well motoring across England having an adventure, I think.”

  He gave her a startled glance. “But you don’t like me.”

  She started to answer but she wasn’t sure how to go about explaining that she wanted to like him but she mostly found him intolerable with flashes of hope. Instead she said, “Tell me what you like to do.”

  Geoffrey tried to cross his arms over his chest, was stymied by his arm-cast, and so settled on folding his hands together. He sighed, “I don’t know.”

  “What about your friends?”

  He blushed furiously and didn’t answer. She glanced at him again and then turned where he pointed as she wondered if he had any friends at all. She thought about how he’d been behaving and then imagined Victor, Denny, and Tomas at the same age. They’d have despised Geoffrey and wouldn’t have had nearly the same patience for him then as they did now, which still wasn’t probably enough for a boy of his age and lack of maturity.

  “What about books?”

  “I like your books,” he said.

  “You enjoy the great V. V. Twinnings?”

  He nodded, blushing. “Sometimes I write some.”

  She gasped and begged, “May I read them?”

  Geoffrey shook his head frantically.

  Violet eyed him and then turned again where he pointed again. She found the business, which was a huge building that didn’t have nearly enough windows. Violet drove around until she found the auto that Jack used and parked hers next to it. She and Geoffrey made their way to the factory and were stopped before they could even enter.

  “No visitors,” a man said. He was wearing dark overalls, thick boots, and a rather kindly expression despite his flat order.

  “Violet Wakefield,” she said with a grin, holding out her hand and not flinching at his thick work gloves. “I believe my husband is here.”

  The man studied her, then gestured for her and Geoffrey to follow.

  “Heard about old Anderson,” he said. “That’s just not right. Is it true he was murdered?”

  Violet nodded and the man cursed. “That just isn’t right. He was a good old bloke. Good fellow to work for. A right good man.”

  “He was,” Violet agreed quietly. “I quite liked him.”

  The man eyed her sideways, and he had to be wondering why she was here. She returned the look before speaking. “There’s a bit of a family hubbub over who the elder Mr. Anderson Wakefield’s heir might be.”

  The man scoffed at her. “We all knew old Mr. Wakefield was changing the will. Figured it had something do with that.”

  “Did you?” Violet glanced at Geoffrey, who was trying and
failing for an even expression. He really should spend some time with Jack practicing that enigmatic gaze.

  “They’re good men to work for. The older Wakefields. No offense to the younger ones.”

  “New to the family, myself. I can’t say this has been a good impression.”

  The man was leading the way around the building and towards, what Violet saw was a secondary, much nicer entrance. “This is where you can enter.”

  Violet stopped him. “Tell me about Herbert Wakefield.”

  “I like all the older Wakefields,” the man repeated.

  “And the others?” she pressed, but he didn’t answer.

  “Liam and Frank seem a bit iffy to me,” Geoffrey said. “They remind me of these brothers who go to my school. They’re always in a competition.”

  The man glanced at Geoffrey as if seeing him for the first time. “Can’t speak to that. I work under Mr. Herbert, and I’m glad of it.”

  The glance he gave Violet seemed to confirm Geoffrey’s supposition without him actually saying a thing against the men. Violet nodded as they entered through the doors and were directed to a clerk behind a large front desk.

  The clerk eyed her askance and then asked, “May I help you?”

  “Jack Wakefield, please.”

  “And you are?” He was young and careful.

  Violet appreciated his attitude immediately. She winked at him because it was fun to make him blush. “His wife.”

  “Ah.” The blush turned deeper and even Geoffrey seemed to find the fellow amusing. “This way, please.”

  They followed him through lushly carpeted hallways to a quad of offices. The names on the doors read: Anderson Wakefield, both junior and senior, Herbert Wakefield, and finally Frank Wakefield. There was also, Violet saw, another row of offices down another hallway. That was the way they went, and they found Grandfather Wakefield sitting at a conference room with Jack next to him, a stack of papers before them.