Death of a Chocolate Cheater: A Food Festival Mystery by Penny Pike

get all those?” I demanded, noticing a smear of chocolate on his right cheek. “I barely managed to nab a chocolate knife, and your mother didn’t get a bite of anything.”
    “Stealth,” he said with a mouthful of something brown and gooey. “And it helps to look like a waiter. You get your own tray.”
    Yeah, Dillon was about as stealthy as a sugar-crazed kid in a candy shop. I tried to snag one of the delicacies off his napkin, but he pulled it away just in time.
    “Greedy,” I said.
    “Jealous,” he returned.
    “You just said chocolate causes health problems,” I reminded him.
    “Better than all that coffee you drink,” he countered.
    “Children! Hush!” Aunt Abby said sternly, then checked her Mickey Mouse watch. “It’s late, and I need to get home and make sure I’m ready for the festival tomorrow.”
    “Good luck, Abby,” Jake said. “I’m sure those whoopie pies are to die for.”
    “You too, Jake.” Aunt Abby gave him a hug. “May the best chocolatier win.”
    Jake reached out and touched my arm. “See you tomorrow?”
    I nodded and bit the tip off the chocolate knife I was still wielding.
    Suddenly, someone screamed.
    The crowd froze and hushed.
    Not again, I thought. Was Polly back for an encore?
    I turned to Reina, still standing on the stage. She was staring at the vat of chocolate next to her, her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.
    Through the crowd, I strained to see what had happened.
    I wished I hadn’t.
    I could just make out a human hand, pressed against the inside of the clear plastic vat.

Chapter 6
    While most of the crowd turned away from the horrifying sight, I couldn’t take my eyes off the vat of chocolate. Maybe because I couldn’t really believe my eyes. Was there really a body in there? The hand, bobbing slowly with each turn of the mixer, convinced me it was. In spite of the fact that I’d helped to solve a double murder recently, I’d never actually seen a dead person. I always wondered how I’d react. Now I knew. It was surreal.
    “Turn it off!” Reina screamed, shaking me out of my hypnotic stupor. “Turn it off!” she screamed again over the incessant humming of the vat’s churning rollers.
    At first I thought she meant the digital camera, which was still capturing every moment of the unfolding drama. But Reina was pointing to a power cord that led from the vat, off the stage, and across the floor to an outlet. Jake rushed over and yanked the cord from the socket.
    The motor went deadly quiet.
    “Everyone out! Now!” Reina shouted.
    The hushed crowd stared at her.
    “I said get out!” She waved her hands wildly as if that would shoo everyone away.
    After another shocked moment of silence, the crowd began whispering and mumbling and pulling out cell phones. Two staff members started guiding the guests out of the ballroom and herding them downstairs. As soon as one of the staff announced the bar was still open, the displaced crowd made a mass exodus to collect their medicinal antidotes to the disturbing incident.
    Only Jake, Aunt Abby, Dillon, J.C., and I remained with a visibly distraught Reina. I spotted Jake on his cell phone, no doubt calling the police again. Thank goodness there was at least one level head in the chaotic scene. Aunt Abby rushed to Reina’s side to help console the trembling hostess, while Dillon craned his neck to stare at the vat, as if trying to see the rest of the victim through the chocolate sludge.
    “Oh my God!” Reina kept repeating as Aunt Abby helped her down from the stage. “This can’t be happening! The Chocolate Festival will be ruined! Oh dear God!”
    The festival? Was that uppermost in her mind? What about the poor chocolate-covered victim who had seemingly fallen into the vat and drowned in hot liquid? I had to cut Reina some slack. She was probably in shock.
    Abby eased Reina into a nearby chair, then looked at me for help and shrugged. I shrugged back, also feeling helpless. Jake hung up the