A little after two am, Chase’s radio—one of the few modern day devices allowed in the Village while visitors were there, went off. They needed him at one of the shops.

"What is it?" I whispered as he got dressed.

"I’m not sure. Security found something strange over at the Three Chocolatiers shop."

"I want to come." I got up too and searched in the dark for my hastily tossed shorts and sandals. "Maybe they’re giving out chocolate samples and it caused a riot."

"It might be better if you stay here. It could be anything. A few weeks ago, one of the goats got into Fabulous Funnels. It was a mess."

"Like I said—chocolate all over the place. How bad can it be?"

Chase gave in gracefully. We walked across the dark, still Village where most people were asleep, dreaming about what lunacy they would get into tomorrow. The lamps glowed softly showing us the way. As though we were at one with the sleeping houses, we were quiet too.

Two security guards were waiting outside the chocolate shop. The front door was open beneath three crossed swords symbolizing the Chocolatiers’ coat of arms. There was a faint light coming from inside.

I nudged Chase with my elbow. "See? What did I tell you? Plenty of chocolate to be had."

He didn’t respond, turning to the security men instead. "What’s up? It better be more than an open door."

"You have to see it," one of them, a man I didn’t recognize, blurted out.

"The door was open, like Fabulous Funnels." The other security guard shrugged as though that statement explained it all. "We just walked inside. We didn’t know what was going on. We didn’t touch anything."

I noticed they stayed outside as Chase and I went in. I wasn’t sure if that was because what happened wasn’t serious enough to call Chase and they were scared to come in or because they’d already seen whatever it was and didn’t want to see it again.

Chocolate was indeed everywhere. Not really the edible variety unless you like licking it off the floors, walls, and windows. There have been days when I would’ve done that for a chocolate fix, but that wasn’t the bad thing about this scene.

The Chocolatiers blended their own chocolate mixture (a dark secret) in a huge, stainless steel vat behind the main counter. In the dim light, I could see someone bending over the vat—a large, red, plumed hat covering him.

"It’s Cesar," Chase said. "I guess he had a little too much to drink before he came to make chocolate."

"What a waste!" It was all I could think of—until Chase tried to wake the eldest chocolatier. Cesar fell backwards out of the vat, splashing up another few gallons of liquid chocolate across us and the rest of the shop. He was naked beneath his extravagant, plumed hat, and covered in chocolate.

He was also dead.