Excerpt: THE CHOCOLATE FESTIVAL MURDERS

Julia pushed past a few bodies in the crowd to get closer to Walter. As she reached him, Walter whipped the white sheet from a cart. There, on the cart just inside the doorway of the upscale restaurant, was a life - size rendition of a human female. What made Julia gasp was the fact that this woman was made from... chocolate?

“Her name is Carlotta; she is made entirely from Ludlow’s Dark Chocolate,” Walter Hamish stated proudly, as he shuffled aside for Julia to get a better look. “I had such a hard time with the breasts, but I think they turned out well.”

‘Carlotta’ was rather impressive; the woman’s partially nude body was laying slightly on its side in the fetal position as many did when sleeping. Her hair cascading over her arms and hiding her face, which one assumed was buried in the crook of her arm. Julia smiled; this was very good indeed.

“Wow, Walter,” Julia stammered. “I did not know you could sculpt.”

“I have many talents, Miss Gromett, but most people only see what they wish...” He paused and grasped the the handle of the cart and slowly spun it around. Several onlookers cried out when they saw a large knife protruding from the back of the chocolate woman. For effect, Walter made raspberry syrup ooze out of the wound and onto the white table cloth.

“That is disgusting,” someone said; Julia glanced over her shoulder; Carolyn Yates, her best friend’s mother, was staring at the art work with great distaste. Julia felt sorry for Caorlyn; she probably had many nightmares about a scene like this; she had once been married to an extremely abusive man.

“I plan to enter this in Saturday’s Chocolate Sculpture Contest at the Festival,” Walter stated, drawing Julia’s attention back. “Chef Dodd and Clementina are allowing me to keep this in one of the walk - ins refrigerators.” Clementina Stith was the owner of the Black River Inn and one of the local sponsors of the festival.

“You mean to tell me,” a man’s voice stated angrily, “that you got all of us up here on the premise that someone was murdered, but really, this is what we came to see?” Randolph Tunbridge, who had appeared, suddenly, at the back of the crowd, called out in disgust. “Walter Hamish, I have known you to pull some hair - brained stunts, but this is the worst.”

Julia bit her lip; as extrordinary as the sculpture was, she could not help but agree with Randolph. Walter, however, had an interesting reply.

“I merely stated there was a murder; your curiosity brought you here.” Walter’s lips curled into a smug grin.

Julia chuckled as Randolph shot Walter a loathesome glare, then turned and stormed towards the front doors of the lobby. Others followed, shaking their heads in disappointment, and Julia wondered what sort of people her neighbors were; had these folks actually been hoping for a crime scene?

“Oh, dear,” Walter stated. looking back at Carlotta. “Someone needs to go back int the refrigerator.” Julia watched as Walter dabbed sweat from the chocolate woman. “It is a bit warm in here and she is cold. the combination is not good.”

“Do you need some help?” Julia asked, even though Daniel would not appreciate her stalling for time when she should be back at the restaurant.

“Of course, my dear girl! Are you volunteering your services?” Walter looked under the cart for the cloth he removed earlier.

“Sure. What do you need me to do? “

“You can hold the kitchen door open while I push this cart. That would make life easier. Go now while I cover Carlotta up.” He jutted his chin in the direction of the kitchen doors.

Julia scuttled ahead of Walter, running straight for the double metal doors that swung in both directions. She hurried into the kitchen, and surveyed the room for something large and heavy to prop open on of the doors while she held the other. As she looked, she noticed a large amount of raspberry sauce on the floor; Walter must have spilled some as he was filling the sculpture and did not realize it.

Julia hopped over the large puddle and went towards the over sized stock pots hangins on the wall near the back door. A cool breeze wafted over her as she approached, and she realized the back door was open slightly.

She thought this odd and held out her hand to push it closed, but thought better of it, because Melissa might be out there, bringing supllies in for tonight’s dinner. Julia opened the door a bit more and stuck her head out. There were no vehicles parked at the dock, nor were there any people to be found; just a large stack of orange bread bins and the large green dumpster.

“Hello?” Julia called out. When no answer came, she shrugged and closed the door.

Julia grabbed one of the stock pots off the wall and went back to the doors. he saw Walter approaching, slowly weaving his way through the restaruant, careful not to bump his cart into anything.

“There you are!” he called out. “I thought I lost you!”

“Oh, no, I am still here,” she replied, “but... I think you left some sauce on the floor in here. I will help you clean it up before Melissa comes back.”

“I do not recall spilling any...” Walter trailed off then shrugged. “Oh, well. That is fine.” He maneuvered the cart past julia and the stock pot and glided over to one of the large walk in refrigerator doors. “Chef Dodd told me to keep Carlotta in here.” He placed the brake on the cart and moved to grasp the long handle of the door. “It is plenty cold in here, which is good for her; keeps her nice and ...” He yanked open the door and stepped back.

Clouds of cool air burst forth--as well as something bulky, white, and quite solid.

Walter and Julia gave a collective startled gasp as, too late, they big white thing fell on top of Carlotta, smashing the sculpture to bits, before it slid to the floor.

“Noooo!” Walter cried in shock and dismay, waving his hands in the air to disperse the mist. He bent down to survey the damage.

And screamed.

There, on the floor, was the naked body of Amy Barton... and she was quite deceased; the large gash on her neck was a dead giveaway.