The Chocolate Jewel Case: A Chocoholic Mystery (28 page)

“That’s more logical. Pete thinks he was out cold for at least fifteen or twenty minutes. When he came to, Harold had taken his pistol
and locked him in.”

“He apparently intended to kill Pete. Why didn’t he do it then? Lofty and Shorty are claiming Harold stabbed Art, right? So he’s cold-blooded enough to kill.”

“Right. But it was easy to dispose of Art’s body. He was killed in the boat, so they stripped his burglar outfit off and threw him in the river. Pete was different. Harold couldn’t leave until the next day, so he would
have been stuck with a dead body for twelve to eighteen hours, and he didn’t know if Pete had told anybody where he was going. Pete was smart enough to pretend to be unconscious or groggy whenever Harold came around.”

“And Harold didn’t think Pete could get out of the barn.”

“If Pete had been in tip-top shape, he could have gotten out. He would have kicked the doors and popped that padlock
right off. But with only a window too small to get out and just one usable leg . . .” Joe shrugged. “You definitely saved his life, Lee.”

“Pete told me to go call the police, but when I heard Harold say he was going for gasoline . . .” I shuddered. “It’s not far to the Shell station. I thought we had only ten or fifteen minutes to get him out.”

Joe pulled me close. “I love you,” he said.

“I
love you, too, Joe.” I kissed him on the ear. “And I want to remind you that Brenda will be back the day after tomorrow.”

“I’m aware of that, and I have a surprise for you.”

Joe took me by the hand and led me into the bedroom. In an inconspicuous corner behind the dresser was a machine I’d never seen before.

“It’s a present from Pete,” he said. “A little thank-you for saving his life.”

“What
is it?”

“It’s a portable air conditioner. You can use it in any room without installing it.”

“Turn it on! Quick!”

The air conditioner works great. Or it did for a few hours. At two a.m. the next morning a cold front came through. The lakeshore temperatures dropped into the low fifties, and we didn’t need an air conditioner the rest of the summer.

 

JOANNA CARL
is the pseudonym of a multipublished mystery writer. She spent more than twenty-five years in the newspaper business, working as a reporter, feature writer, editor, and columnist. She holds a degree
in journalism from the University of Oklahoma and also studied in the OU Professional Writing Program. She lives in Oklahoma but spends much of each summer at a cottage on Lake Michigan near several communities similar to the fictional town of Warner Pier. She may be reached through her Web site at
www.joannacarl.com
.

Also by JoAnna Carl