Free The Diva Steals a Chocolate Kiss by Krista Davis Page B

you’ll reconsider. We could use your help.”
    He strode away, crossing paths with Nina, who ran toward me still wearing her bathrobe. “What’s going on?”She seized my arm and whispered, “What’s Wolf doing here? I saw him drive up.”
    “The new chocolatier is dead.”
    “Huh? When? Where? How?” demanded Nina.
    We entered the kitchen, and Wolf asked, “Did he want you to find Joe?”
    So much for keeping their secrets.
    “Joe Merano is missing?” cried Nina. “I wondered why he didn’t make an appearance at the chocolate tasting.”
    Wolf stared at me. “You’re not going to do it, are you?”
    “Of course not. Well, maybe a little on my own. Joe was very good to me.”
    “Stay out of this, Sophie,” growled Wolf. “I’m serious.”
    I raised my hands. “No problem. Tea all around?” I put the kettle back on and took two more yellow mugs out of a cabinet. “I was planning to make a quiche, Wolf. Want to stay for brunch?” Inspired by a dish I had tried the night before, I mixed batter for indulgent chocolate raspberry muffins.
    “Thanks for the invite but I’ve been up most of the night.”
    “I’m sorry, I haven’t printed off the guest list yet. It will only take a moment.” I popped the muffins into the oven and excused myself.
    When I returned a few minutes later, Nina was pouring water into the mugs, including mine. “How could you not tell me about the murder?”
    “It was late.”
    “I
cannot
believe that I didn’t know about any of this,” she muttered.
    I handed Wolf the list and thanked Nina for preparing the tea.
    She sat down next to Wolf and perused the list of names over his shoulder. “Who had a beef with Arnaud?”
    I preheated the oven and pulled ingredients for the crustless quiche out of the fridge. “A beef with him? Who even knew him?”
    I chopped salty ham and a couple of slices of leftoverbacon. Using my vegetable peeler, I cut thin slices of savory Asiago cheese. And for a little veggie in the mix, I sliced three tiny baby zucchinis that had grown in my own garden. After whisking the eggs with salt, pepper, sage, and garlic powder, I greased a glass pie dish with sweet butter and scattered everything except the eggs in it. I mixed milk and a splash of heavy cream with the eggs and poured it gently over the ham, cheese, and zucchini so they wouldn’t be dislodged. For the final touch, I sprinkled Parmesan cheese over the whole thing. I slid it into the oven next to the muffins.
    “Do you two really think you can find Arnaud’s killer by looking at a list?” I joined them at my kitchen table.
    “I recognize a lot of these names,” said Wolf.
    “Oh! I almost forgot to mention that two of the winners, Lori Speer and Cheryl Maiorca, came back to Joe’s last night. At least that’s what they claimed. Either one of them could have been hanging around the whole time, I suppose.”
    “The killer coming back to the scene of the crime, eh?” asked Nina.
    Wolf snorted. “You watch too many crime shows on TV.”
    “Are you saying they don’t come back to the scene of the crime?” asked Nina.
    “Would you?” asked Wolf.
    “Maybe. If I was nervous and wanted to know what was going on and whether I was a suspect.”
    “Is it definite that he was strangled?” I asked.
    Wolf sipped his tea. “We won’t know for sure until the autopsy report comes back, but that was how it looked to me. We did a pretty thorough search but didn’t find much in the way of items that might have been used to strangle him.”
    “No ropes?” asked Nina. “Doesn’t everyone have rope somewhere around the house?”
    “Nothing that matched the marks. A rope often leaves a pattern that reflects how it was twisted or braided. Sophie, do you remember if he was wearing a tie?”
    “Ordinarily, I might not recall, but it was verydistinctive—a cream-colored background, covered with a print of truffles and chocolates. It was hanging around his neck loose when I saw him.” I