Bitter Chocolate

By Dawn Greenfield Ireland

The characters you loved in Hot Chocolate are back with more escapades of life in River Oaks. To keep track of this large family, Ireland has included a family tree.

Lila Mae is in a tizzy over the Chocolate Ball, a huge event that benefits homeless dogs and cats. If it weren’t for Julian Gillespie, the Chocolate Ball would have melted.

Bernie, the 92-year old patriarch, decides he wants his Bentley back. Joseph’s cousin Chewie is hired as the chauffeur. * Bambi is so happy to be expecting a child. Dorothea is at war with the world over being pregnant at 55.

Lila Mae’s astrologer gives clues of things to come. * Suzanne and Gray show up unexpectedly. She’s left Paul and wants Walter to handle the divorce. * Cissy has dumped Georgio, the tattoo artist, to Madge’s delight. Roger Bainsworth III has just the right family pedigree for her granddaughter.

When Amelia returns home from a grocery run, her kitchen door is slightly ajar. Three things catch her attention: a new vase of flowers, her marble rolling pin covered with blood... and a dead body on her kitchen floor.

Amelia freezes. Is there a murderer still in the house? She calls Detective Chance Walker, Lila Mae and finally... 9-1-1 after snapping a picture of the dead guy.

Chance questions Tilly. She wants to know why everyone thinks she runs around killing people! Dorothea is happy that no one is pointing the finger at her.

Louie and Scooter’s truce ended badly. * Chance bails Bernie and Chewie out of jail. * Madge thinks Carmichael is looking for another job. * Uncle Tito psychically investigates the murder. * Loved ones are accused of the murder and the family wrings their hands.

Secrets are no longer safe; the family has more shocks than the San Andreas fault line! One thing stands firm: The Alcott clan puts family first no matter what.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dawn Greenfield Ireland - Artistic Origins
• Release date: Jan 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9781940385013

Dawn Greenfield Ireland

Dawn Greenfield Ireland is the author of several award-winning novels, nonfiction books, and screenplays. To date she has 21 published books that consists of four series (cozy mystery, YA science fiction/fantasy, adult shape-shifter, and dystopian), sci-fi romance adventure, and nonfiction work, which includes online courses. See also my adult shapeshifter books (Bonded) under the name of DG Ireland.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Lila Mae Alcott sat in her sitting room in front of her computer. She jotted notes on a slip of paper, then logged off and stood. Louie, Lila Mae’s fluffy, champagne-colored Tibetan spaniel jumped out of his dog bed, ready for action.

Come on, Louie, Lila Mae said. We’ve got to talk to Amelia about this. They headed through the master bedroom, down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Amelia Martinez, Lila Mae’s devoted housekeeper, cook extraordinaire and confidant was reading The Houston Chronicle at the kitchen island. Hey, boss, she said. Don’t bother with the paper today… there’s no happy news to report.

Listen to this, Amelia. This was on one of the astrology sites I read today: There is a special caution to be aware of power dynamics between mothers and daughters.

Huh, Amelia furrowed her brows in thought. I wonder what that’s all about.

I don’t have a clue, but I thought it was interesting with so many possibilities in the Alcott circle, and Wolfram said my sisters and I have been dealing with family issues for a very long time—there’s a lot of karma between us.

That’s easy to see.

A caramel-colored Bentley pulled into the driveway and parked in front of the detached three-car garage. Lila Mae’s modest 4,100-square-foot house, with lush landscaping and front rock garden, was the envy of owners of larger bland mansions on Del Monte Drive in Houston’s elite River Oaks.

Louie ran to the French doors in the laundry room, barking.

Lila Mae and Amelia followed and looked out.

Okay, Louie, Lila Mae said. Good job, but you don’t have to protect us against your auntie Dorothea. My baby sister isn’t a threat, as long as she’s not throwing a tantrum.

Just don’t mention astrology, and she’ll be okay, Amelia said. She’s been very sensitive lately.

Amelia returned to the newspaper.

Lila Mae got a drink of water and grabbed a discarded section of the newspaper.

Amelia glanced at her watch. What’s taking her so long?

Lila Mae and Amelia went to the French doors and looked out once more.

Maybe she’s on the phone, Lila Mae said. She shook her head and wandered back to the kitchen table. I guess she’ll make an appearance when she’s good and ready… and has center stage.

After idling for several minutes, the motor shut off and the driver’s door opened. One very puffy foot in a Birkenstock Arizona sandal dangled about six inches above the pavement. The foot belonged to Dorothea Divine.

Pregnant at 55, and with two college-aged children, Dorothea was at war with the world. No one was exempt, especially Henry, the husband who doted on her and who Dorothea now referred to as Mr. Responsible.

The left sandal bounced about in the air, not followed by its identical right shoe. From the interior of the $276,000 Bentley came grumbling that hinged on ranting. Musical notes sounded as Dorothea punched numbers into her cell. Inside the house, a speaker phone rang.

Lila Mae, I’m in your driveway, Dorothea thundered into the cell phone. I can’t get the seat back or the steering wheel to rise. I’ll have to call the dealer to come get it!

The left foot returned to the interior of the car. Dorothea flipped down the visor and checked her Cleopatra eyes in the mirror, wiped a smudge, ran her fingers through her short brown curly hair and closed the mirror. The pampered baby sister of the three Alcott girls, Dorothea thrived on creating drama. Her floral, loose-fitting skirt was hiked above her knees. Spider veins covered legs she barely recognized anymore. Her swollen belly was held captive by the steering wheel. Dorothea groped but could not locate the electronic seat lever on the side of the driver’s seat close to the floor of the car. Frustrated, her closed fist pounded on the metal plate.

She tossed the cell phone onto the dash and twisted her maternity top to straighten it out. She sniffed at her underarms before her sister arrived. She had once considered enhancing her 34A bust with cosmetic surgery. No more; it had expanded to grapefruit-sized proportions. Never again would she complain about being underdeveloped in the bosom department.

The kitchen door swept open. Amelia and Lila Mae, seven years older than Dorothea, rushed outside.

We’re here, Lila Mae hollered to her younger sister. She and Amelia approached the Bentley.

Amelia, decades younger than her boss, hurried ahead and assessed the situation. She reached down and pressed the electronic seat adjuster. The driver’s seat lowered. Dorothea let out a satisfied groan. Amelia pushed the electronic lever so the seat moved backwards until it reached the end of the track.

Why didn’t it work for me? Dorothea asked.

I think you were grabbing this metal plate, not the switch. Amelia extended her sturdy arm. Here. I’ll help you.

Thanks, Amelia. Looks like I won’t have to call the dealer after all. I’ll just make sure Joseph goes with me everywhere from now on. Joseph was Dorothea’s house manager.

Dorothea flung both legs out the door, barely missing Amelia’s shins. Latching onto Amelia’s arm, she hoisted herself out of the Bentley. That’s what I get for being so short. I can’t reach anything! She glared at the seat controls. Why couldn’t I have taken after Daddy’s side of the family?

Will you quit complaining? You’re an inch taller than me, Lila Mae said. And think of poor Madge. She’s only five-foot-one!

My God, I can’t even drive for fear of being trapped in my car! Dorothea wailed. The main air conditioning unit at the house is on the fritz. Joseph called Scotts. They’re going to have to replace the compressor. There’s no way I can keep cool in that oven of a house. It feels like 80 but the thermostat says 70.

Lila Mae rolled her eyes at her sister’s histrionics. Dorothea was the me girl of the family.

Dorothea’s 10,400-square-foot River Oaks mansion had three air conditioning units, and the house was wired for generators in case of power outages. Even the five-car garage had its own air conditioning and backup system to keep the luxury vehicles and equipment climate-controlled. Lila Mae was pretty sure the entire house was not sweltering, otherwise Joseph would be in the driver’s seat this very minute.

Weather is not Houston’s most attractive feature. From May all the way through October, it is nearly impossible to live in the city of Houston without air conditioning, especially in the dead of summer. Fifty miles from the Gulf of Mexico, the city’s sub-tropical climate produces humidity that hangs in the air. If humidity were visible, it would be an ugly grayish-green gunk that would require a well-honed knife to slice through it—maybe even a chainsaw. It saturates and penetrates anything that is exposed.

Clothes wilt. Hair frizzes.

Visitors flying into Houston airports in the summer months have a rude realization from the moment they step outside of the baggage claim area to their mode of transportation.

It’s sweltering hot. Without a high SPF sun-block lotion, sunburn is imminent. In a car with un-tinted windows, it’s guaranteed.

When it rains, it can be similar to a monsoon. The skies open, the rain pours and streets flood from the velocity and volume.

But ask longtime or native Houstonians about their fair city, and they exclaim there’s no place they would rather be. Houston is a large, sprawling international community with a wide variety of foods in grocery stores and restaurants. Whatever you want, Houston has it: opera, ballet, museums, sports, film and stage plays, high-tech companies, oil and gas, the best medical center in the world, Johnson Space Center, highfaluting shopping at the Galleria or Highland Village, and a cow or two.

Convenience can spoil anyone. Many grocery stores and pharmacies are open around the clock and shelves are stocked to the max. If you can’t find what you want in a Kroger grocery store or a Walgreens pharmacy at two in the morning, you probably don’t need it.

Lila Mae took in Dorothea’s disheveled appearance as she straightened her clothing. She thought it was an optical illusion, but she could have sworn her sister looked a lot bigger than she had yesterday at lunch.

Dorothea, honey, when are you supposed to see Victor again? Lila Mae asked sweetly. She fidgeted with a curl by her ear, satisfied with the recent touch-up and highlights.

Dr. Victor Tic was the Alcott ob-gyn and a cousin by marriage. His offices on West Gray, in the hub of high spending, high society, and all levels of frivolous activity, were always filled with wealthy women from River Oaks, West University and Bellaire.

Dorothea’s head jerked up. She looked at her sister, highly suspicious. Today at eleven. Why? Is something wrong? I know that tone you’re using and it isn’t good news. She turned back to retrieve her cell phone. Her purse was out of reach. Darn. Amelia, can you grab my purse and phone?

Amelia retrieved Dorothea’s prized bronze Ferragamo purse and shut the car door. Her eyebrows shot up as the conversation between the sisters plunged to the brink of chaos. She handed the purse to Dorothea and eyed Lila Mae. Now what, boss?

Lila Mae hooked an arm around her sister’s shoulder as they walked to the house. I don’t know how to put this delicately, Dorothea, so I’ll just say it like it is. It appears that you have enlarged overnight.

There. It was out in the open.

Amelia opened her eyes wide, shut her mouth and hurried to the house, avoiding eye contact with the two sisters. Best to stay ahead of the vocal shrapnel.

Dorothea stopped dead in her tracks and turned to Lila Mae. WHAT?

Lila Mae straightened her back and rolled her shoulders. Yesterday you did not have any problem getting in or out of your car when we went to Cramer’s for lunch. She smoothed down the aqua-colored long shirt with purple, blue and black designs including tiny chips of jeweled stones that sparkled in the sunlight.

Dorothea’s hostility melted. My God, you’re right! She let her sister’s words sink in for a moment.

Both women looked down at Dorothea’s engorged middle. I hope everything’s okay. Dorothea grasped her belly.

You’re in your seventh month. Maybe you’re retaining fluid, Lila Mae said.

They resumed walking toward the kitchen door. Dorothea rubbed the top of her tummy as she walked, lost in thought.

I’m sorry for dumping the Chocolate Ball preparations in your lap, Dorothea said. I’ll help as much as I can, but you and Madge will have to do the running around.

Lila Mae opened the kitchen door and ushered Dorothea inside. Louie jumped out of his snuggly dog bed and raced up to Dorothea. He danced on his hind legs, begging to be picked up.

I may have to borrow Joseph on occasion, Lila Mae said. She bent and scratched Louie’s head. Louie, Auntie Dorothea can’t pick you up. You’ll have to wait until she sits.

Louie snorted in indignation and flopped down on his bed, eyeing the women with disdain. He smacked his lips and closed his eyes in an I’ll show them mood.

Joseph Chung came out of the butler’s pantry carrying a shoebox.

Maria eyed the 30-year old Chinese-American suspiciously. The pockets of his kitchen whites were starched closed.

What’re you doing now? Maria was not a traditional Hispanic and did not buy into Joseph’s metaphysical ways.

This is an auspicious day, Maria. Joseph set the shoebox on the kitchen island and pulled five tiny pewter angels out of the box and placed them on the counter. I’m going to put these angels in the living room, one for each direction and one for center.

What do you mean? Maria looked at Joseph quizzically.

Directions, Maria! North, south, east and west, he shrilled. Don’t touch them if you see them. Since Mrs. Divine is having a baby late in life, it is important that the baby is centered, and she doesn’t stay in the ‘poor pitiful me’ state!

Joseph sashayed out of the room, head held high, with a handful of angels.

Maria watched him go, shaking her head. He hadn’t taken ten steps when his cell phone rang. He patted his smock pockets and rushed back to the kitchen. He found the phone in the shoe box and looked at the caller’s name and number on the screen.

Hi, Wolfram. How’s Germany? He listened, alarmed, and hurried to the butler’s pantry, returning to the kitchen with another shoebox. He dug into the box and retrieved one of his colorful dried gourds. He shook the gourd out in front of him, then to each side.

Maria noticed Joseph’s eyes – he was alarmed or, at the very least, nervous as a cat in a roomful of dogs.

Don’t you worry, Wolfram. I’m on it. I’ll release any negativity, no matter where it’s trying to hide!

Joseph ended the call and fanned himself. He rushed back to the butler’s pantry and pulled out two stainless steel pan lids. He clanged them in the pantry, the pantry bathroom, the kitchen—anywhere negativity could be lurking.

Maria waved her hands in the air to get his attention. What now?

That was Wolfram, Lila Mae’s new astrologer, Joseph said.

I know who Wolfram is. What did he say?

I don’t know why I bother to explain anything to you, Joseph said. You don’t believe in astrology, even though it’s as old as mankind! He said we have to be alert during this new moon. He turned on his heels and left the kitchen, lids a clangin’ away.

Dorothea sat on an examination table wearing a multi-colored examination gown covered with storks. The gown draped over her bulging middle. Goosebumps covered her arms shivering in the steady arctic breeze blowing from the vent in the ceiling directly above the table. She glanced up and silently cursed the vent. She pulled her arms back in through the sleeves of her gown to try to warm herself.

A light tap sounded and the door swung open. Dr. Victor Tic swept into the room. He opened his arms wide in greeting.

Dorothea!

He crossed the space to the examination table and grasped Dorothea in a bear hug while clutching her chart in one hand.

Dorothea pulled her arms back through the sleeves of the gown.

How are you doing, hon? Victor asked. You’re looking like a million.

At 56, Victor was TV-doctor handsome with a natural white streak in his dark curly hair. He was fit and tanned from the golf course with perfect white porcelain-shod teeth, at a price tag of sixteen grand.

A million what? Dorothea thundered. I’m as big as a circus tent! Lila Mae said I’ve expanded since yesterday.

After your birthday bash last month I’m not surprised, Victor said. You were almost overdosing on those chocolate-covered bananas.

Victor opened the chart and read in silence. He hhmm’d and nodded. Well, it appears you’ve gained four pounds, which I don’t like, but let’s see what’s going on.

Victor listened to Dorothea’s heart then moved the stethoscope to her abdomen.

A light tap on the door announced the nurse. Nurse Eva, a stout German woman of indiscernible age, entered the room.

Hello, Mrs. Divine, Nurse Eva said in her thick accent.

Hi, Nurse Eva, Dorothea said. She studied Nurse Eva a moment. Did you just get your hair done? It looks great.

Ya. I went to that salon by the River Oaks Theater, Nurse Eva said.

Heads Up? They have very skilled people working there.

Victor straightened up. Let’s get you on your back.

Victor and Nurse Eva helped Dorothea lie back on the table.

Let’s do an ultrasound, Victor said to Nurse Eva. We’ll most likely see Alcott chocolates piled in a corner of her womb!

Nurse Eva tittered. She pulled a sheet out of a cabinet and draped it around Dorothea’s lower belly and private parts, tucking it under Dorothea’s hips. Then she lifted up the hospital gown to expose Dorothea’s bulging middle. She smeared a blue gel on the area.

Dorothea almost catapulted off the table. Do you keep that in a freezer?

That’s the nature of the aqueous formula. Don’t worry, it doesn’t stain, Nurse Eva said.

Stain? How could anything practically frozen stain? Dorothea asked. Honestly, Victor, this room is freezing!

Wait until you start having hot flashes, Victor said. Then you’ll love this room.

Victor pulled a cart containing the ultrasound equipment close to the examination table. He picked up the transducer wand and made contact with Dorothea’s skin.

All eyes were riveted on the screen as Victor moved the wand slowly over Dorothea’s stretched belly. The dark gray images were a little fuzzy, but soon a head and torso, two little arms and two little legs appeared.

Victor engaged the printer. Here’s another baby picture for your album, Dorothea.

As Dorothea, Victor and Nurse Eva continued to watch the screen, another leg and another arm were visible in back of the tiny torso.

What are those, shadows? Dorothea squinted at the screen.

Victor moved the wand to the far side of Dorothea’s abdomen to get a better view. Well, Dorothea, it appears you’re going to have twins! Victor said as the printer churned out another picture.

TWINS? Dorothea fainted dead away.

Chapter 2

Bambi Chaline-almost-Alcott sat in the waiting room at Dr. Tic’s office peacefully reading a new mothers magazine. At 32, she was serene with her first pregnancy and looked forward to motherhood.

Her blonde curly hair was pulled back into a little stub of a ponytail to keep her neck cool. Just months ago Bambi was a blond bombshell, as her late husband Jimmy Ray Chaline used to brag. Now she no longer wore revealing clothing or spiked heels, opting for practicality, comfort and the respectability of being a mother.

As Bambi turned the page engrossed in a lengthy article regarding the care of nipples and breastfeeding, Dorothea’s shriek penetrated the waiting room.

All eyes in the crowded waiting room were riveted on the closed interior office door.

Bambi’s head jerked up as she recognized Dorothea’s voice. She threw down the magazine, jumped out of her chair, retrieved her purse and dashed for the entry door.

Dorothea? Bambi squeaked. Her voice was shrill – almost mouse-like.

She passed the front desk and was intercepted by Nurse Eva.

Mrs. Divine just had a little shock, Mrs. Chaline. She’s fine, Nurse Eva tried to steer Bambi back to the waiting room.

Where is she? I want to see her. Bambi danced around Nurse Eva and continued down the hallway of closed doors.

Dorothea! Bambi yelled, terrified.

She’s right here. Nurse Eva guided Bambi to the examining room. She tapped the door and opened it.

Bambi rushed into the room and stood at Dorothea’s side. Dorothea, is the baby okay? What happened?

Victor patted Dorothea’s hand. She was still a little lightheaded from fainting.

Bambi was so frightened she began to cry. She clutched Dorothea’s other hand. I’m right here for you, Dorothea. We’ll get through this together, whatever it is. I promise.

Dorothea grappled with the gown as she struggled to sit up. Victor and Nurse Eva assisted her as she swung her legs over the side of the examining table.

I’m okay, Bambi. You just wait until I get my hands on Henry! Dorothea said. I can’t believe we’re having twins.

Bambi clasped her hands together over her heart in a reverent pose. Twins? How wonderful!

Are you crazy? Vonnie and Charlie are in college! By the time the twins get that age, I’ll be in my seventies! Dorothea said.

The three Alcott sisters and Bambi sat at Lila Mae’s kitchen table drinking tall glasses of iced water from the whole-house filtering system and nibbling Amelia’s chicken, fruit and pecan salad.

Madge, being the oldest (at 66), was by far, the most serious. She nodded her head—the dark brown curls with a hint of magenta bobbed with each nod. Well, Dorothea, it’s not like you’ll be slogging diapers at two in the morning. You have a large staff of competent workers and the ability to hire a nanny or two. Madge never minced words.

Dorothea had somewhat come to terms with the news that she was expecting twins.

I just don’t know how to break this to Vonnie and Charlie, she said. After all, they may well end up raising them.

Lila Mae roiled with shock. She slammed her hand on the kitchen table. Why all of this gloom and doom? You’re not dying; you’re giving birth! Daddy’s 92, so we’ve got longevity going for us.

Twins, Lila Mae! We don’t have them on our side of the family, do we?

Dorothea implored her sisters with her perfectly lined wide eyes.

Maybe Henry has twins in his family somewhere, Madge said. We can have Linda Much do a genealogy on his family and more research on our side to see if she can find them.

Good idea, Lila Mae said. Remember when I told you about Wolfram’s reading a couple of months ago? He kept saying something about Gemini, but you didn’t get pregnant in May and you found out before May, and you’re not due in May, so I didn’t really think about it. But now it makes sense.

Twins makes sense? Dorothea blurted. Are you having twins?

Dorothea, for heaven’s sake, Gemini is the constellation of twins, so yes, it does make sense now, Lila Mae said.

Oh, I feel so much better now that we know your astrologer was correct and logical, Dorothea sneered. Tell ole Wolfie I have a spare room. He can be one of the caretakers.

The tension in the room was so thick, it might have been a scene from the inquisition.

Dorothea, don’t worry. I’ll take care of the twins if anything ever happens to you, Bambi said.

Three pairs of eyes focused on Bambi.

I’m young and healthy and I’ve wanted children for so long!

Lila Mae broke the sisters’ silence. Why Bambi, that is the most selfless act of kindness I have ever heard.

Dorothea stared right through Bambi. She shook off the daze, stood, walked around the table and hugged Bambi. I’m so sorry for any bad thoughts I ever had about you over the past several months. I never took the time to get to know you as a person.

Bambi stood and hugged Dorothea. They both patted each other’s backs, sniffling. Even though I worked for you for those three years, I didn’t know you either. The women parted and returned to their seats, teary-eyed.

Suddenly, Bambi screwed up her face and let loose a rush of tears that sounded as if she were in extreme pain. She cried so hard and so loud that Lila Mae, Madge and Dorothea jumped from their chairs and huddled around her.

Amelia rushed into the room from the butler’s pantry and hovered close by. What’s wrong? Should I call 9-1-1?

Bambi bawled on and on.

Are you sick? Lila Mae asked.

Do you feel pain? Dorothea asked.

Madge looked under the chair. Water hasn’t broken.

Amelia grabbed the box of tissues from the kitchen desk and plopped it down in front of Bambi. She pulled tissues and tucked them into Bambi’s hands. Here you go. Just let it out.

Bambi blew her nose and wiped her soaked face.

What am I going to tell the baby? My husband was murdered, I slept with another man – a very old man. What kind of a mother is that going to make me? she wailed.

There was a collective sigh of relief from the women. The three sisters returned to their chairs. Amelia leaned on the counter for a reprieve.

You will not discuss any of this with the baby, Madge said matter-of-factly. First of all, Jimmy Ray is not the baby’s father so there’s no reason to bring his name up unless you tell your child he was your first husband.

Lila Mae and Dorothea concurred with nods and uh-huhs.

Second, our father is far from the pedestal we kept him on for years because we never knew this other side of him, Madge said. He clearly took advantage of you, Bambi.

Bambi sniffed and looked from one Alcott sister to the other. So, you don’t hate me then?

Of course, not! Dorothea said. I should have listened to you, Bambi.

We’ve all learned a life-altering lesson, Lila Mae said.

Bambi Chaline had been Bernie Alcott’s favorite nurse when he was living with Dorothea. She had spent 12 hours a day caring for him. Three years later the family discovered that Bernie’s care had culminated in another Alcott heir.

The sound of a car screeching into the driveway distracted the women. Louie jumped off his bed and barked up a storm as he raced to the door. Keys clattered against the lock. The door swung open with force. Chance Walker, a fit and trim detective with the Houston Police Department, and Lila Mae’s young love interest (at 56), ran into the house, his hand clamped to his mouth. He passed the group of gawking women and rushed into the bathroom in the butler’s pantry, Louie on his heels. The door slammed behind Chance, cutting off Louie’s pursuit. Louie hunkered down in front of the door and stuck his nose at the bottom of the door.

Lila Mae jumped out of her chair and went to the butler’s pantry. Chance, are you okay?

She did not have to put her ear to the door to hear the violent retching.

Amelia, Dorothea, Madge and Bambi stood in the kitchen, close by.

Is Chance okay? Madge asked.

Doesn’t sound like it, Lila Mae said. She tapped on the door. Chance, I’m coming in. She held her foot out to keep Louie out of the bathroom. Not now, Louie.

Madge turned to Dorothea and Bambi, full of concern. You two need to leave in case Chance picked up some kind of a bug. You sure don’t need to be sick at this stage of your pregnancies.

Bambi clutched her small, round belly in a protective hold. Come on, Dorothea.

They gathered their purses and keys and hurried out the door.

I sure don’t need to be sick on top of everything else, Dorothea spat as she and Bambi left the house.

Amelia followed close behind. She pulled Chance’s keys from the kitchen door and perused the parking area. Chance’s Lexus was blocking Dorothea’s Bentley. Amelia climbed into the open car door, adjusted the seat and backed the Lexus out of the way to allow Dorothea to exit. Bambi followed in the Camaro.

Amelia pulled Chance’s car into Dorothea’s vacant space, shut off the ignition and locked the car. She returned to the kitchen to assess the situation.

Chance hugged the toilet desperately. His chin rested on the seat and his face had that pasty white pallor that evokes severe distress associated with vomiting.

Lila Mae wrung out a washcloth and pressed the cool cloth against the back of Chance’s neck. She kicked off her shoes.

Can you talk? she asked.

Chance uttered noises and shook his head.

Is this a stomach bug? Did you eat bad food? Did you feel bad last night or this morning?

Tissue, Chance said. The single word was an effort.

Lila Mae pulled two tissues from the box on the granite counter and put them into Chance’s extended hand. He blew his nose several times and dumped the tissue into the bowl. He groped for the handle.

Lila Mae flushed the toilet.

Late breakfast at Table on the Oasis, Chance said in a raspy voice

When did you eat and what did you have?

Lila Mae ran the washcloth under cold water and wrung it out again. She pressed it to Chance’s forehead. He grabbed it and rubbed his face.

Steak and eggs 45 minutes ago. Tasted funny, he said.

Did you send it back? Lila Mae asked.

Chance shook his head.

Why am I not surprised, Chance Walker? For a police detective, you can be pretty clueless when it comes to food, Lila Mae said.

At that Chance lost what was left of his breakfast.

Lila Mae slipped out of the bathroom and headed to the kitchen desk.

Amelia and Madge hovered around the bathroom door. Madge peeked into the bathroom. She shook her head and tsk-tsked.

Amelia saw for herself. Oh, he looks terrible.

Lila Mae opened the long, front drawer of the kitchen desk and found a phone number on a list. She grabbed the portable home phone, dialed and waited.

Is El in? she said. I know it’s your lunch hour, but this is an emergency. Tell her it’s Lila Mae.

Lila Mae waited patiently.

Amelia moved about the kitchen quietly. She placed a cup of café mocha on the desk and another on the kitchen island.

Lila Mae mouthed thank you as she waited, phone plastered to her ear.

Madge grabbed her cup and took a big swig. She smacked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, making a loud noise of satisfaction.

El? Look, I know this is a bad time with the lunch hour rush, but I have bad news. She listened for a moment. He’s sick as a dog. He said the steak tasted funny, but he ate it anyway.

Louie returned to his dog bed and flopped down. Being ignored was exhausting.

Lila Mae made a scary face at Amelia and Madge. She held the phone away from her ear as El cursed up a storm on the other end of the line and yelled for her kitchen manager.

I hope you can trace the problem. Lila Mae hung up. That went well.

Amelia shook her head. I can’t believe he ate bad meat. What’s wrong with men?

They’re men. They don’t think, Lila Mae said. She walked to the butler’s pantry, tapped on the bathroom door and let herself in.

Chance struggled to prop himself against the wall. He looked weak and sick with a slight green pallor.

Feeling any better? Lila Mae asked.

He eased open his eyes a bit. No.

Lila Mae opened the door and stepped out. Amelia, help me get Chance upstairs.

Amelia rushed to the bathroom. Oh boy, he doesn’t look so good.

Madge, call downtown and tell Mike what’s going on, Lila Mae instructed.

Madge went to the kitchen desk,