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woman. He was right. I had no right to influence her. I’d have to be gracious about Aubrey.
    I smiled brightly into my computer screen. “Have a nice evening,” I said sweetly.
    I might see Aubrey as a real threat, but I had to keep my mouth shut about it.
    I stuck to that resolve for an hour. Until Maggie McNutt came into the shop.
    CHOCOLATE CHAT
    IT’S ALL (NOT) RELATIVE
    The tree that gives us chocolate was assigned the scientific name Theobroma cacao by the Swedish scientist Linnaeus in 1753. Theobroma can be translated as “food of the gods,” a name that not only reflects the legends of the pre-Columbian Indians as to its origins but also seems to be a comment on its heavenly appeal to the sense of taste.
    The dried and roasted seeds of the cacao tree are processed to form cocoa, which is how “cacao” is usually pronounced in American English. Despite the sound-alike, it has no relationship to the coconut palm, Cocos nucifera, though products of this plant are sometimes called “coco.”
    Neither is it related to the coca bush, Erythroxylum coca . This plant is used for a tea sometimes used to relieve symptoms of altitude sickness. But its greatest use is in producing cocaine.
    So, let’s get this straight. Chocolate and cocaine are not produced from the same plant. The high chocoholics get from indulging in truffles, bonbons, or plain old solid chocolate is not an illicit form of bliss, and chocolate is not physically addictive. Saying that chocolate is not habit-forming, however, might be going too far.

Chapter 4
    D espite my resolve, I guess I had never stopped worrying about Aubrey. Anyway, shortly after three p.m. Maggie McNutt came in the front door of TenHuis Chocolade carrying two large trays, and as soon as I saw her, the movie producer popped into my mind.
    I recognized the trays as the heavy foil ones we’d used to display our donated chocolates, and I went out to the shop to meet Maggie. “Those are just throwaway trays,” I said. “You didn’t have to return them.”
    Maggie spoke in a low voice. “I wanted an excuse to speak to you,” she said. “I need a favor.”
    “Sure. As long as it has nothing to do with Aubrey Andrews Armstrong.”
    Maggie’s eyes popped. If she’d been holding another plate of bratwurst, I feel sure she would have dropped it. “Why did you say that?” she said.
    “I guess he made quite an impression on me.”
    “What kind of impression?”
    “Oh, he reminded me of a lot of the promoters I met back when I did the Miss Texas pageant. What kind of favor do you need?”
    My answer seemed to calm Maggie. “Are you on speaking terms with Maia Michaelson?”
    “I rarely have anything to say to her, but I guess we’re on speaking terms.”
    “Well, I’m not. But she needs to be warned about this . . . this Armstrong.”
    “You make the name sound like a curse.” I lowered my voice. “What do you know about him?”
    “Not much! I mean, nothing! Nothing at all! I mean, I’m like you. He’s the kind of promoter you spot around beauty pageants and talent shows. Some of them are legit. Some are not. They just need to be approached with caution, and Maia seems to be swallowing his act without question.”
    “Maia’s not the only one. Aubrey has invited Aunt Nettie out to dinner.”
    “Gosh! Can you keep her from going?”
    “How? She’s a grown-up woman and a lot smarter than I am. If I say anything, it’s going to make me look as if I don’t want her to get out and have a social life.”
    Maggie put her elbows on the top of our showcase and dropped her head into her hands. She obviously wasn’t looking at the chocolate puppy dogs inside. She seemed close to despair. “What am I going to do?” she said.
    She’d barely finished asking herself that when the door to the shop swung open, and of all the people in Warner Pier, who should walk in but Mae Ensminger, also known as Maia Michaelson.
    I’m sure I looked guilty. “Oh!” I said. “Hi,