Behind Chocolate Bars Read Online Free Page A

He loves you like a brother,” I said. My heart thudded. “Okay, how bad is he?”
    â€œI’m not sure,” he said. “But I think the accident caused some kind of . . . resetting, for lack of a better word.”
    â€œResetting?”
    â€œFiguring out what his life should be,” he said. “And if Star fits into it. He feels responsible for Star getting hurt, which really shook him up.”
    â€œHe’s thinking of breaking up with Star?” I asked, stunned.
    He held up his hands. “I really don’t know. I’m just speculating,” he said. “You need to ask Leo yourself.”
    â€œI will,” I said.
    â€œYou know what?” he said, drawing me into his arms. “Leo’s not here now.”
    My nerves evaporated. “No, he’s not.” I pulled him closer.
    *   *   *
    W e ended up eating dinner at the West Riverdale Diner, looking a little disheveled, I was sure. Who knew what would’ve happened if Bean owned furniture?
    â€œLook what the cat drug in,” Iris, my favorite waitress in the world, yelled when we arrived. She picked up two plates of the dinner special—a slab of meat loaf and mountain of mashed potatoes—from the serving window to the kitchen. “Sit right ’ere.” She pointed with her chin to an empty table in the back, and delivered the specials to another table.
    â€œThanks, Iris,” I said. I slid over to avoid the duct-taped cracks in the leather, while Bean sat across from me.
    â€œI’m heading over to Frederick to check out couches tomorrow,” he said. “If you can get away in the afternoon, maybe you want to come too?”
    I nodded. “Sure. If it’s not busy. Kona opens on Mondays.”
    Iris interrupted by slapping two menus down on the table. “I recommend the special,” she said. “But stay ’way from the seafood tonight, if you know what’s good for ya.”
    â€œThanks,” I said. “How are you, Iris?”
    Iris had been a waitress at the diner for as long as I could remember. She must have been at least eighty years old and still smoked like a chimney and tanned herself to a deep bronze year-round. “Jus’ same as I was last time you ate here,” she said. “Except I’m missin’ my
60 Minutes
tonight to cover Janie Lee’s shift. Dat twit gone and eloped wit’ dat idiot Jensen boy.”
    â€œSorry,” I said, “but it’s nice to see you.”
    She blew out her breath in a “pshaw,” pretending she didn’t believe me. “So, two specials?”
    We both knew to give in. “Sure,” Bean said good-naturedly.
    I waited for Iris to head over to the kitchen and yell our order to the cook. “What else are you buying?”
    He’d already ordered the basics to be delivered the next day. A bed and dresser, desk and chair, breakfast table and bar stools. Little pieces of life. “But I wanted to see the couch first.”
    Iris returned, holding our waters in one hand. She set them down and sat beside me. “What you two lovebirds up to?”
    â€œBean bought a house,” I said.
    She gave him a long look. “Ain’t that nice,” she said. “You settin’ to stay, then?”
    I held my breath, and then Bean’s phone pinged. He pulled it out and then a few more phones buzzed, vibrated and rang around us.
    â€œWhat is it?” I asked him.
    His face turned grim. “Someone found a body here in West Riverdale.”
    â€œWho?” I asked, my voice faint.
    â€œA woman,” he said, focused on his phone. “No identity yet.”
    Iris pulled her phone out of her apron pocket and tapped at it. “Dat’s right. They found ’er at Green Meadows Estates.”
    She looked up, eyes narrowed. “Beaten to death.”

3
    A nother murder in our small town? Green Meadows Estates was on the