Behind Chocolate Bars by Kathy Aarons

back. “He does arrive in style,” I said. “Did he talk to them?”
    â€œOf course,” she said. “His usual, ‘While the death of this beautiful woman is certainly a tragedy, let’s not compound the tragedy by rushing to judgment of an innocent young boy.’”
    Her pretend-deep voice caught me by surprise and I laughed.
    â€œI can just imagine his courtroom bellow booming down Cedar Lane,” I said. “Did he use his ‘In this great country of ours, everyone is innocent until proven guilty’ bit?”
    â€œOh yeah,” she said, and then we both sobered.
    â€œWhat do you know about Dylan?” I reached over to straighten an already neat stack of the latest Michael Connelly book, feeling uncomfortable that I was essentially inviting gossip about one of our employees and a child. And I’d given Lockett a hard time for exactly that.
    â€œHe’s been great here,” she said. “His mom, Gilly, was in my Bunco group, but I never knew her very well. We were all completely surprised that she, you know.”
    That she ditched her family and ran off with a married man?
    â€œDoes she keep in touch with them?” I asked. “Or anyone around here?” Maybe now would be a good time for her to provide some support, to her son at least.
    â€œShe used to be friends with Yvonne, but they had a falling out,” Colleen said.
    â€œBoys and Girls Club Yvonne?” I asked.
    She nodded. “Some of the Bunco moms thought Yvonne was letting Gilly know what was happening with her son.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with that?” I asked.
    â€œOh, you know how judgmental people can be,” she said.“A bunch of them said that Gilly didn’t deserve to know what was going on after what she did.”
    â€œThat’s too bad,” I said.
    â€œPersonally, I think they’re happy Gilly’s gone and Oscar is single,” Colleen said.
    â€œReally?” I asked.
    â€œOh yeah,” she said. “He started dating right after Gilly left, but nothing ever worked out,” she said. “Some of the Bunco crowd say he’s still hung up on his ex-wife.”
    â€œA few?” I asked.
    â€œIt’s a small town,” she said. “A nice guy with a decent job? He’s a great catch.”
    I felt my phone buzz and looked at the screen. It was my brother, Leo. I waved my cell at Colleen in the universal “I have to get this” symbol and answered it. “Hey, Leo.”
    â€œYou’re not investigating this thing, are you?” he demanded without a greeting.
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” I winced at my defensive tone.
    Our parents had died when I was fourteen and Leo was eighteen, and even though he’d officially been in charge of parenting me, he’d always acted like a big brother and not a “parent.”
    â€œDon’t play dumb,” he said. “I know the kid works for you, but that doesn’t mean you need to get involved.” He sounded almost frantic.
    â€œLeo, are you okay?” I asked. “You never worried like this before.”
    â€œI’m fine,” he said, with so much emphasis it couldn’t be true. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you and your safety.”
    â€œWhy don’t you come to the store and see that I’m totally safe,” I said, trying to sound reasonable.
    â€œJust promise me that you’re staying away from this whole mess,” he said.
    â€œLeo,” I said. “This isn’t like you. What is going on?”
    â€œPromise me, Michelle,” he insisted.
    I took a deep breath. “You know I can’t do that,” I said quietly. “Why don’t we have dinner tonight and talk about this?”
    He hung up.
    *   *   *
    J ust like always, whenever something newsworthy happened in our town, we had more customers than our usual Monday. They ate my