The Chocolate Pirate Plot by JoAnna Carl Page B

us. If that group is particularly close to him, I haven’t noticed it. In fact, now and then he gives the cast and crew a little lecture on being one big happy family. I suspect he noticed the same thing I do and is trying to discourage it.”
    Maggie stuffed the final treasure chest into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “And now that I’ve gorged myself on TenHuis Chocolade, I’ll repeat—probably I’m imagining the whole thing. And I’ll get out of your office. And your hair. And if you mention one word of all this . . .”
    I crossed my heart. “Hope to die,” I said. “I will not break your confidence. Not even to Joe.”
    â€œOh, Joe can be closemouthed,” Maggie said. “I don’t know if I should ride it out or try to find out what’s going on. Maybe I should talk to Max.”
    She left my office, waved at Aunt Nettie, and went out the front door, leaving me confused about just what to do next. Only one thing was certain: I wasn’t giving up on trying to figure out why Jill had come running up Lake Shore Drive that morning, passing five other houses to reach Joe and me.
    Then I looked at my watch. Five thirty. Yikes! My day off was nearly over, and I hadn’t been to the grocery store yet.
    Lots of couples splurge by going out on Saturday night. Joe and I were so busy all week that we splurged by staying home. It was the one night each week I made sure I produced an actual home-cooked meal. I jumped to my feet and headed for my van, trying frantically to think of something tasty but quick to cook.
    Sounded like steaks. Maybe Joe would fire up the charcoal grill.
    Two hours later we sat down to rib eyes, baked potatoes, and salad. Not too imaginative, but a treat. As we ate I told Joe about my visit to Camp Sail-Along and why I felt sorry for the camp manager, Jack McGrath, especially since he apparently knew nothing about sailboats. I left out the part about telling Jack that I might join him for a nap. Or a nip.
    â€œYou’ve had a busy afternoon, Lee.”
    â€œI’m determined to find out why Jill was so set on reporting Jeremy’s so-called drowning to us. Which leads me to another question. Why did this Hal Weldon try to reach you?”
    â€œWord of my superior legal skills had reached him, and he wanted to make a will.”
    â€œPeople rarely want to make a will so urgently that they call a lawyer on Saturday.”
    â€œMy clients do. Poverty law, remember. The working poor usually can’t afford to take off work during the week.”
    â€œHad you ever heard of Hal Weldon?”
    â€œNot until the office paged me and said it was an emergency.”
    â€œSo you don’t really think it was a will or something else routine?”
    â€œNo, Lee. I think Hal Weldon is in some kind of trouble and needs a lawyer immediately.”
    â€œHas he been arrested?”
    â€œNot in this county, as far as I’ve been able to find out.”
    â€œSo you’ve been checking!”
    â€œI asked Hogan, and I called the sheriff’s office. Neither of them had ever heard of him. In fact, neither of them had arrested anybody today—Warner County not being a high crime area. I didn’t try other counties.”
    â€œI wonder why he wanted you.”
    â€œI might have represented him in a previous life. Either his or mine.”
    â€œBut you don’t remember him?”
    â€œNope. I represented a lot of people in Detroit and more later in Chicago. I don’t remember them all.”
    â€œDo you have a list of those old cases?”
    â€œWith names of clients? I’m afraid not. Since they were agency clients, I left their records behind.”
    â€œBesides,” I said, “Weldon might be using a different name.”
    â€œWhy do you say that?”
    I told Joe about Maggie’s idea that Jeremy might be working under a fake name to avoid union rules. “Since Hal Weldon was