Free Death of a Chocolate Cheater: A Food Festival Mystery by Penny Pike Page A

competition. And you get ten tastings for twenty dollars!”
    A cheer and more applause broke out. Glasses clinked. I searched for the other contestants and caught a glare between Frankie and Monet. Interesting. Harrison said something to the twins that made them roll their eyes. Griffin stiffened and blinked nervouslyseveral times. Wendy stood by my aunt, the two arm in arm like the old friends they were.
    “This year, our twentieth year, I’m proud to be your event coordinator. I’ve added a few new features, including a Wine-and-Chocolate Pairing, where you can taste wine and chocolate together, a Chocolate-to-the-Death Ice-Cream-Eating Contest, where contestants down bowls of ice cream without using their hands, and a Chocolate College, where folks can learn all about making and cooking with chocolate.”
    Murmurs of pleasure and interest filled the room.
    “But tonight, as special guests of the festival, I have a treat for all of you, to show my appreciation for your participation in the competition.” Reina smiled broadly. She seemed to have gotten a second wind. “Please follow me upstairs to the second-floor ballroom.”
    She signaled to J.C. to turn off the camera and led the way out of the room.
    The crowd mumbled as they headed for the stairs or elevator, most still holding their champagne flutes and wineglasses. I looked for Jake and spotted him in the corner talking on his cell phone. I wondered who was on the other end. Drop Dead?
    Aunt Abby, Dillon, and I took the stairs to the second floor. I was initially curious about the “big surprise,” but with Polly’s recent intoxicated performance, I felt I’d had enough surprises for one night.
    We entered the lavish ballroom, where I imagined many a fancy event had taken place over the years. Giant colorful murals covered the walls, depicting scenes from under the sea, along with old sailing ships. Thetiled floors meant there had been dancing, and the mini stage was obviously set up for a live band.
    Currently the stage area was occupied by a giant plastic vat the size of my VW. It was filled three-quarters full with a dark, thick liquid. One sniff and I knew immediately it was melted chocolate. Two large rollers, half-submerged in the liquid, churned the contents inside the vat, creating a roiling mini ocean of fragrant dark brown waves. I had to admit, it was impressive.
    Reina stood next to the vat, holding her microphone. As soon as everyone was assembled in the room, she began addressing the crowd again.
    “Welcome to one of the largest vats of chocolate in the nation!” she said proudly, as if she’d constructed it herself. The audience applauded, probably because it seemed the right thing to do.
    “The chocolate will be on view to Chocolate Festival participants during the two-day celebration, but you’re getting a preview of this magnificent beauty.” She smiled at the camera.
    The crowd didn’t seem as excited as Reina. Her smile fell, and she segued into the next part of her speech, reading from index cards she held in her hand.
    “As most of you chocolate connoisseurs probably know, chocolate was made from the Theobroma cacao trees in Mexico and South America for more than three millennia. We can thank the Maya and Aztecs, who created the very first chocolate drink. Unfortunately, it was a very bitter drink, and it wasn’t until theEuropeans added sugar and fat that it became the delicious and popular chocolate we know today.”
    Several people in the audience yawned. I wondered where all this Wikipedia stuff was going. I glanced over to see if J.C. was still recording. Indeed, he was capturing every moment.
    Aunt Abby nudged me. “You know, those same chemicals can kill dogs and cats. I never give Basil any chocolate, no matter how much he begs.”
    I smiled at Aunt Abby’s comment, then turned my attention back to Reina.
    “Now, most of our cocoa comes from the Ivory Coast, thanks to Frankie Nudo and his successful family