The Chocolate Mouse Trap Read Online Free PDF

She gave me her hand graciously and signaled that I was to sit in a small chair pulled up beside her. Brad faded into the crowd.
    When she spoke, her remark surprised me. “Are you Henry TenHuis’s granddaughter?”
    “Yes, I am.” The light dawned. Mrs. Schrader owned property at Warner Pier, where my grandfather had operated a gas station. She must have been a customer. “He had the Lakeshore Service Station and Garage for thirty years.”
    “Yes, and I bought a lot of gasoline from him. But I knew him before that. We went to high school together.”
    “Oh! Yes, he did go to high school in Grand Rapids.”
    “He was two years ahead of me. I’ll never forget how handsome he was in his Marine uniform. That would have been about 1944.”
    “I knew he served in the Pacific.”
    “I’m glad you know about him. He died young. Before you were born, I’m sure. But you have a certain look that reminds me of him.”
    I touched my hair. “I guess he passed on the blond gene. In all his pictures he looks very fair. I’m sorry I never knew him.”
    Just then the distinguished-looking man from the hall, the one I’d mentally pigeonholed as the funeral director, loomed over her. “Mother, the Johnsons are waiting to talk to you.”
    I managed not to gasp. This was no funeral director. He must be Martin Schrader, the uncle who discovered Julie’s body.
    “Mr. Johnson can’t stay,” he said. “You know his health . . .”
    “I know.” Mrs. Schrader sounded angry. “All my old friends are either dead or dying. Martin, this is Miss McKinney. You should remember her grandfather, Henry TenHuis.”
    Martin blinked. He was obviously trying to think who the hell Henry TenHuis was, and his mother was letting him squirm.
    I took pity on him. “My grandfather had a garage and service station in Warner Pier back when gasoline cost considerably less than it does now. And I just learned that he went to high school with Mrs. Schrader.”
    Martin Schrader made a quick recovery. “Of course! I used to fill my bicycle tires at his station. Do you live in Warner Pier?”
    His mother didn’t give me time to answer the question. “I’ve been in the TenHuis Chocolade shop many times,” she said. “Back before arthritis and heart trouble took all the pleasure out of my life. Philip TenHuis must be your uncle.”
    “Yes. But Uncle Phil is gone now, too. My aunt runs the shop.”
    Mrs. Schrader threw her head back defiantly. “And you have enough family feeling to go into the business. I suppose you are your aunt’s heir.”
    I couldn’t believe she’d asked such a rude question. I’m sure there was a long silence while I decided how to answer it. “The question doesn’t arise,” I said. “Aunt Nettie is the corpse—I mean, the core! She’s the core of the business! Without her skill as a chocolatier we have no product to sell.”
    I stood up. “It was extremely kind of you to talk with me, Mrs. Schrader. Julie loved and admired you greatly.”
    Her face crumpled. She took my hand, but this time it wasn’t a gracious handclasp. It was a clutch. She grabbed the hand as if it were a lifeline. She tugged at it, and I found myself kneeling beside her chair while she whispered in my ear.
    “I loved Julie,” she said. “I loved her! She was darling! Why? Why? Why can’t we keep the ones we love? Who can have wanted to take Julie away from me?”
    I didn’t have any answers, of course. All I could do was hold her hand in both of mine. “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t understand how this can have happened. We’re all going to miss Julie terribly. I’m so sorry.”
    She nodded and turned away, producing a handkerchief from somewhere. I was dismissed. I rose as gracefully as I could, trying to remember how to get up from the Texas curtsy I had learned for beauty pageant competition. I moved away and an elderly couple took my place.
    I started back into the big reception room, but someone touched my arm. It was