Death by Chocolate

fair.
    But she was less concerned
about his fashion blunders than by the fact that he was reading a letter that
he was holding. By the tan color of the paper, she was pretty sure she
recognized it as one of the threatening messages Eleanor had received. 
    So engrossed was he in what
he was reading that he didn’t notice her until she cleared her throat and said,
“Hello.”
    He jumped as if someone had
shoved a hotwire down the back of his ugly pink shirt. Fumbling with the paper,
he shoved it first behind him, then dropped it onto the desk. “Yeah,” he said.
“Who are you?”
    Quickly Savannah walked
across the room, her hand outstretched. “Savannah Reid. I’m working for Mrs.
Maxwell. And you are....?”
    “Martin Streck, her manager
and accountant. If you’re working for her, why haven’t I heard of you?”
    A certain arrogant gleam in
his close-set gray eyes told Savannah that Martin Streck was a man who prided
himself on knowing just about everything and anything worth knowing.
    She gave him a saccharine
smile and batted her eyelashes. “Well, I don’t know, Mr. Streck. Maybe little
ol’ me wasn’t worth botherin’ you with. I’m sure Eleanor would have gotten
around to telling you about me sooner or later.”
    He looked her up and down
with eyes that took in every detail. “What sort of work do you do for Eleanor?”
Again, she gave him the eyelash routine. “Why, sir.... I believe that’s
confidential. In fact, maybe that’s why you didn’t know about me. Maybe I’m one
of Eleanor’s secrets.”
    She could feel him cringe
as she walked over to the desk and looked quite deliberately down at the paper
he had dropped. Yes, it was one of the letters she had seen the day before.
    “But, then,” she said, “I
thought those letters were a bit of a secret, too. And it looks like everybody
and their dog’s brother’s cousin is getting to read them and handle them. Not a
good idea.”
    “I’m not just anybody, Miss
Reid. I’m Eleanor’s accountant and I—”
    “Ms.”
    “What?”
    “I said, Ms. Ms. Reid.”
    Usually, she didn’t really give
a flip what she was . called, but a guy like Streck brought out the feminist in
her.
    He took a deep, exasperated
breath. “Okay, Ms. Reid.... I’ve worked for Eleanor Maxwell and her husband for
ten years. I’ve been involved in the most intimate details of their lives. They
don’t keep secrets fromme.”
    She nodded agreeably.
“Except for me.”
    “What?”
    “You need to get your
hearing checked, darlin’. I said, ‘Except for me.’ Or maybe she just forgot to
mention me the last time y’all talked over those intimate details.”
    Casually, she opened her
purse and pulled out a pair of surgical gloves and a clean plastic bag... just
a couple of basics she had been carrying, along with a tube of lipstick, since
she had become a detective on the force years ago.
    She put on the gloves,
lifted the letter by its corner and slipped it into the plastic bag. ‘The fewer
people who see this, let alone handle it, the better,” she told him as she
placed the bag, then the gloves, back into her purse. “I told Mrs. Maxwell as
much yesterday, but—”
    “What—what do you think
you’re doing there?” he sputtered.
    She gave him a big grin as
she sashayed across the room to the door. ‘Just earning my keep.” Another
eyelash flutter... and she was gone.
     
     
    Even if she hadn’t heard
voices on the patio, Savannah would have headed outside for some fresh air. She
found herself hungry for the company of somebody who didn’t give her the
creeps, and those wholesome souls seemed to be few and far between at the
castie that chocolate built.
    A dolphin swimming by would
be good, but even a seagull would do. Anything with a friendly face.
    The scene she found on the
patio was even more whimsical than she could have hoped.
    A formal tea party.
Attended by Gilly and Eleanor, a life-sized baby doll, and a teddy bear. All
were elegantly attired for the occasion. The doll wore a long, lacy christening
gown, the bear a red plaid vest and black top hat, while Gilly and her
grandmother were decked out in enormous sun hats festooned with feathers and
silk flowers. Copious amounts of gaudy jewelry were draped about their necks
and wrists, dripping from their ears and sparkling on every finger. Gilly’s
tiny body was almost completely cocooned in a pink feather boa, while Eleanor
wore a bright purple and red kimono.
    “Lord have mercy,”