Free The Chocolate Moose Motive: A Chocoholic Mystery by JoAnna Carl

cause of death. It could have been an accident.”
    Joe’s words seemed to get through to Sissy. She sat up and gulped. “I guess finding her like that just brought back the whole nightmare with Buzz. I’ll try to act braver.”
    I went to the kitchen to make a large pot of coffee. In a few minutes Joe joined me. We muttered together over the sink.
    “Do you really think there’s a possibility Helen Ferguson was killed in an accident?” I said.
    “I don’t like coincidences. But maybe I’m being cynical. I’m not a medical examiner.”
    “Coincidences? What’s coincidental about Helen’s death?”
    “Sissy’s a murder suspect to the Warner Pier community. She has a fight with Helen. Helen texts Sissy— texts , Lee. It’s not a form of communication that requires direct communication. She asks Sissy to meet her. She’s dead when Sissy gets there. It’s too squirrelly for me.”
    I just nodded. “I wish you weren’t right, but I’m afraid you are.”
    More headlights flashed on the trees in our yard. “More cops,” I said. “I’m beginning to regard the authorities the way Wildflower does.”
    This car also parked out on the lane, where quite a traffic jam must have been developing. Joe and I went back into the living room. But when Joe opened the door, the voice I heard didn’t sound authoritative. It sounded almost timid.
    “Hi. I’m Chip Smith. I’m a cousin of Sissy’s. Sort of. By marriage. One of the cops said she was over here. Can I see her?”
    Joe stepped back, and Chip came in, all six-feet-plus of handsomeness and personality. I could feel the drool forming under my tongue. He sure was a fine physical specimen.
    Sissy jumped to her feet. “Chip!”
    Chip grinned his crooked grin. “Hi, Sissy. I wanted to see if you needed any help.”
    He walked toward her and opened his arms wide, offering her a big hug.
    Sissy raised both hands, holding them with the palms toward him.
    “You jerk! Will you leave me alone? The last thing I need at this particular moment is you.”
    Chip did not get the hug he’d aimed for. Instead, Sissy shoved him away. She didn’t seem to push him very hard, but he stumbled backward. He fell against the mantel. The fireplace screen went over, and all the tools clattered onto the brick hearth.

Chapter 8

    For a moment I thought Chip was going to land on the floor in the middle of the fire tools, but Joe—the natural athlete—caught him and kept him upright.
    The whole thing made such a crash that I thought Chip must have been injured. I guess Sissy did, too, because she gasped out a question. “Are you hurt?”
    “No, I’m okay. Sorry to be so clumsy.”
    Sissy stepped forward and took Chip’s arm. She led him into the dining room and turned her back to Joe, the state trooper, and me.
    If she was looking for privacy, of course she didn’t get it. She and Chip were just around fifteen feet from us, and we could hear every word they said.
    “Now listen, Chip. You were Buzz’s best friend, as well as his cousin, and I know you were important to him. I want to be friends with you. Friends! But this is not a good time.”
    “Sissy…”
    “I’m not kidding, Chip. The Warner Pier gossip mill has me down as a murderess, thanks to Helen and Ace. Now Ace is trying to get custody of Johnny. The last thing I need is forpeople to think I’ve taken up with my husband’s cousin and best friend just five months after he died.”
    “Come on, Sissy. No one who knows you could—”
    “Most people don’t know me personally. They go by what they hear. Don’t be naive, Chip! Maybe we could see each other, as friends, a year or two down the road, after Ace and I have settled our problems. After the cops—please God!—have arrested some tramp or other for Buzz’s murder, then we can be friends again. But right now, please get out of my life!”
    She stalked back into the living room and dropped into a chair—not the couch. Sissy wasn’t giving Chip a chance to