All Fudged Up (A Candy-Coated Mystery) (16 page)

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “First off, I’m not selling. Secondly, no one will want to go through the mechanical room under the pool.”

“Sally tells me differently. She says the ghost tours will double when I open the tunnel to the public.”

“Please, if it were really such a big moneymaker, then why didn’t your grandfather and my Papa open it up before now?”

He shrugged. “There used to be shame in rum-running. Now it’s ancient history and everyone likes history.”

“I’m not selling, Pete, so get over the notion. The McMurphys are here to stay.”

“We should take everyone through the tunnel now,” Jenn said as she came up beside me. “The pool area is where most of the food will be served and Russ and Angie are ready to start the mystery portion of tonight’s entertainment.”

The lobby was a bustling mass of costumed people. All of them drinking and eating finger foods. Mal was running around from person to person, waiting for pets or to see if they dropped anything. My tiny white puppy was a real hit with people, but she did look tired from the crowd.

“Come here, Mal.” I snatched her up and put her in her crate behind the receptionist desk. She whined for a moment but then walked around three times and plopped down with a comfortable sigh.

The band played jazz as I picked up a martini glass off the waiter’s tray and clanged it with a silver fork. Jenn waved the band to a stop and the room grew silent. “Good evening, everyone. I want to thank you again for coming out tonight and supporting a good cause. Again, all proceeds from tonight’s event will go to the Mackinac Island Children’s Clinic to provide year-round care for the children who are growing up on this beautiful island.”

There was a polite round of applause. “Tonight’s theme was inspired by the discovery of a rumrunner’s tunnel in the basement of the McMurphy. And so I’d like to invite you all now to follow me downstairs and through the tunnel. The other side of which ends up in the Oakton pool house where the party will continue with a ‘Play It Again Sam’ mystery production staring Russ Haver and Angie Knight.”

The two actors took their bows. “And now, follow me into the depths of history.” I opened the basement door and the band fell in line playing marching jazz.

The basement had been cleaned and lit with strings of fat white bulbs and beads. The door to the coal bin was removed and the secret lever to the tunnel revealed with many oohs and aahs. The partygoers grew solemn as they entered the tunnel, whispering at the work that had been done to carve it out, right under the alley. The door to the pool mechanical room was left open and the room itself was well lit to the code set down by the insurance company. The stairs to the pool house seemed anticlimactic.

The pool house itself was lit with strings of white fairy lights running along the rafters. White tables laden with a buffet lined the edges of the pool. The band played “When the Saints Go Marching In” as people spilled into the pool house laughing and giggling over the adventure of the rum-runners tunnel.

There was a sudden scream and the band stopped as everyone took note of the water and the old man floating facedown, wearing nothing but boxers covered in red hearts.

Butter an 8” × 8” × 2” pan, then line with wax paper or plastic wrap. (I prefer wax paper.)

Using a double boiler fill
of the bottom pan with water and heat on medium high until the water is boiling. Then you can turn the heat down to low and in the top section, melt chocolate, sweetened condensed milk, and butter until smooth and thick. Add cranberry juice and pineapple juice—heat and stir until reduced.

Remove from heat. Add bourbon 1 tablespoon at a time (to taste). Mix well. Pour into pan. Cool. Tip: let cool outside of the refrigerator for 30 minutes so that no condensation mars the top. Refrigerate overnight. Remove from pan. Cut into pieces. Store in a covered container.

“So much for our murder mystery play,” Russ said as he sat dejectedly on one of the pool chairs.

“All that lovely food gone to waste,” Frances said as she looked at the untouched buffet. “Not that I blame anyone. Who could eat knowing a dead man was in the room?”

“They do it all the time at funerals.” Jenn could be so matter-of-fact. “That was twelve-dollars-a-plate service. I’d like to get my hands on that old man.”

“Or whoever pushed him,” I muttered. They all stared at me. “What? There seems to be a rash of old men dying on island. It doesn’t take too big a leap of faith to think he was murdered.”

“People die, dear.” Frances patted my hand. “It’s a fact of life.”

The ambulance came quick. George Marron hurried in, carrying his bag of equipment. A younger man, tall and thin with sandy-brown hair, accompanied him. Both were damp from the rain outside. The wind had picked up and a regular howl was brewing.

When we’d seen the weather we hadn’t worried because everyone would be traveling from the pool house to the McMurphy via the tunnel. Now it merely added a strange atmosphere to the scene.

Two of the bigger men had ripped off their suit coats and hauled the old man out of the water and up onto the gray concrete. CPR was started. In the five minutes it took for the ambulance to arrive, the old man hadn’t budged. His skin was as blue as Joe’s had been. I was beginning to tell a hopeless cause when I saw it.

Officer Brown had arrived on scene first and asked everyone to stay put. Another younger officer fresh on island for the summer season took down people’s names and what they saw. It was all the same story. We came up through the tunnel. No one had been aware of anyone unusual in the tunnel or the mechanical room. No, the pool house was not locked. Yes, the catering staff had been the only ones who were supposed to be on the premises, as the pool house was officially closed to any early guests at the Oakton.

George went to work, took the man’s vitals, tried to shock his heart into action, and when that didn’t work he called the clinic and the man was pronounced dead.

“Do you know who he is?” I asked Frances.

“I didn’t get a good look at his face.” She shrugged. “Hang on, I’ll see what I can find out.”

I had stayed as far from the scene as possible. The last thing I needed was to be associated with another dead man.

“I’ve been told this is your party.” The young officer looked at me warily. “You’re Allie McMurphy?”

“Yes.” I tried not to sigh. “I’m Allie McMurphy and this is my party. It is a benefit for the children’s clinic on island.”

The officer, whose name tag read “Wright,” wrote in his notebook. “And you are a person of interest in the murder of Joe Jessop, is that right?” He looked at me with crystal-blue eyes.

“If, by person of interest, you mean that I found Joe Jessop dead at the McMurphy, then that would be correct.”

“Hi.” Jenn interceded. “I’m Jennifer Christensen. I planned the entire party for Allie.” She walked the officer away from me. “I can get you a list of guests and the publicity plans. That way you’ll know who was involved, although I’m certain this was merely a strange coincidence.”

“The dead man was Theodore Finley,” Frances said.

“Who?”

“Theodore Finley.” Frances pulled me closer to the wall. “He was the town mayor for twelve years back in the early 1980s.”

“Oh, no, please tell me he wasn’t on the guest list.”

“Sorry, he was on the guest list and the historical committee.”

I cringed. “Did he have family at the party? I don’t remember you introducing me to any Finleys.”

“His wife died last year and his daughter is in New York.”

“Good, I’d hate to have had them see him that way.”

Rex came through the pool-house door wearing his uniform covered by a plastic rain poncho. He held the door for the EMTs as they took the body away on a stretcher. The wind howled and the rain blasted the glass walls of the pool house.

Rex consulted with Officer Brown and Officer Wright, then turned to the waiting partygoers. “You’ll be allowed to leave, but the weather is not conducive to walking from the pool house to Main Street. We’re going to walk you through the tunnel in groups of four. That way you can pick up your things at the McMurphy and head home. Taxis have been contacted and are currently lined up on the street.”

I went straight to Rex. “Do you want me to stay here or to go to the McMurphy first?”

“I would prefer you were at the McMurphy,” he said. “Is there someone who can stay at the pool house while we walk people through the tunnel?”

“I’ll stay,” Mr. Devaney volunteered.

“I’ll stay with him as well,” Frances said. “That way you have two witnesses.”

“All right.” Rex nodded, his mouth a firm line and his gaze flat. “I’m going to lock the pool-house door and I want you to make sure it stays locked.”

“Done.” Mr. Devaney took Frances by the arm. “Come on, let’s get you a seat near the door.”

“What’s going on?” I asked Rex. “This makes two dead men since Papa died.”

“If I were a conspiracy theorist, I’d be worried about that,” Rex said as he opened the door to the mechanical room. “But I’m a realist. The only murder is Joe. There is no evidence of murder in this case.”

I frowned. “I don’t know, this looks pretty suspicious to me.”

“Nothing like death to put a damper on the night, no pun intended,” Frances said.

“At least this time someone had the sense to scream at the sight of a dead body.” I rubbed my bare arms. The band packed up and the last of the guests had been escorted through the tunnel and out to waiting cabs.

“What are you going to do with all that food?”

“I had Jenn contact the soup kitchen in St. Ignace. They are more than willing to take it and will have two guys here in the morning to pick it up. In the meantime, we’re putting it in the fudge shop refrigerators.”

“Noble of you.” Trent Jessop walked into the lobby. He wore a dark raincoat over his suit.

“I wouldn’t say noble.” I studied him. “I’d say practical.”

“It’s sure to get you in good with the locals.”

“Have you come back to bait me?” I could not believe the nerve of the guy. Really, he had been part of the first group to leave. Don’t get me wrong, I get it. He had just lost his grandfather in the McMurphy. The last thing he would want is to subject his family to more mayhem.

“I came back because I’m worried.” He shook off his coat. “Too many good men are dying around you.”

“And you came to keep an eye on me?” I put my hands on my hips. “Because I really think you should go home and keep an eye on your family. Let me worry about me and mine.”

“I came back because I know that Rex and Charles need some help. And because I don’t like the idea of a couple of women staying alone in a building where two men were murdered.” He put his hands on his hips and stood toe-to-toe with me.

Darn, the man did look good in a suit. “I’m a grown woman and I’m perfectly capable of handling myself in my own home.”

“I’m sure you are,” he said, his tone low. “But this is not your home, not yet. And you may be full grown, but so were my grandfather and Mr. Finley. If this turns out to be a serial killer, I don’t like the fact that you are living in the killer’s hunting grounds.”

Okay, that sounded kind of creepy. “There’s no one here but my staff and I. I walk the halls every night and check each room.”

“What would you do if you found a killer? Call Rex Manning? Run? Or worse, try to detain him. Think about it. This guy has killed two grown men. Did you ever stop to think about what you’d do if you found him?”

Okay, so he had me there. I winced.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Mr. Devaney is here,” I said.

“That man is sixty-two years old.”

“And every bit as wise,” I stated. “Like I said, I’ve got it covered.”

Trent raised a dark eyebrow. “I don’t like how you’ve got it covered.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that he is going to help us out by taking a shift and patrolling the grounds,” Rex said as he walked up from the tunnel. “I’m serious, Allie. The summer officers won’t be here for another two weeks. Now, having four or five officers on island during the off-season usually isn’t a big deal, but in times of crisis . . .”

“Are you saying I’m in crisis?”

“I’m saying the island is in crisis. I’ve got an entire island to patrol—not just the McMurphy and the Oakton.”

“Well, I know that. I’m fine, really.”

“In times of crisis,” Rex repeated, “it’s tradition to call on the men in the community to pitch in. Think of it as your neighborhood watch.”

“How sexist is that? This is the twenty-first century. Women are perfectly capable . . .”

“And they have the day shift,” Rex cut me off. “I fully expect you and your staff to patrol the area during the day, but you have to rest. That’s why Trent is here. He’s going to be staying the night and ensuring you’re safe to take the morning patrol. I expect you to report anything out of the ordinary. Have I made myself clear?”

“Fine.” I gave him the stink eye. “It doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’m from Chicago for goodness’ sake. I know what it’s like to live in a sketchy neighborhood. Mackinac Island’s not sketchy.”

“Allie, two men have died within one hundred yards of your home. I think you need to let us watch out for you. It’s what neighbors do.”

“Think of it this way,” Frances said. “You’re now a part of the community.” She held Mal tight against her. “That was what you wanted, right?”

“Yes, of course.” I felt deflated. I had this grand idea that I could take over the family business and continue the McMurphy tradition of fudge and family. I looked from one handsome man to the other and suddenly realized that some things a person simply couldn’t do on their own.

“I thought you hated me,” I said to Trent.

“Why would you think that?” He looked affronted.

“Because of the purple ribbons and everything.” I waved my hand at the ribbon clearly pinned to his suit coat.

“My sister Paige bought that. I completely forgot it was there.”

“Listen Allie, I’m going to walk Mr. Devaney and Frances home. Are you okay to stay here with Trent, because if you’re not you need to say so right now.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Officer Brown is still processing the pool house. Jenn and I have cleaning up to do.”

“And I’ll be here as well,” Trent said. “I’ve got your cell-phone number in my phone.”

“Fine, I’ll see these good people home then.”

“Oh, dear, what are you going to do with all that fudge?” Frances looked into the fudge shop window at the stacks of pretty wrapped presents.

“Do you think it would be awful to send it out to the partygoers?” I asked. “They did pay for their tickets and should at the very least get some fudge out of it.”

“We’ll send it out with a nice thank-you note,” Jenn said. “A personal touch will go a long way to helping everyone heal from tonight’s shock.”

“Don’t worry, Frances,” I said. “Jenn’s right. We’ll send it out with thank-you notes in the morning. Go on home. We’ve all had quite a day.”

“All right, if you insist.” Frances looked exhausted. Mr. Devaney and Rex escorted her out into the storm.

Jenn smiled at Trent. “Do you mind helping us move the furniture and take down the strings of lights?”

“Not at all.” He actually smiled. I tried really hard not to roll my eyes.

“Great, I’ll go get a stepladder.” I headed to the basement, where I found Officer Brown studying the mechanism for the doorway to the tunnel.

“Oh, hello, I didn’t know you were down here,” I said.

“I’m doing my best attempt at being a crime-scene investigator.” His green eyes sparkled. “There really isn’t a whole lot of evidence. I’m snapping a few photos of things I find interesting. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.” The stepladder hung from two hooks that were screwed into the wood joists. I grabbed a wooden box from the piles and dragged it over to the ladder. Pulling it down was no problem, the ladder was aluminum and light, but bulky.

Officer Brown reached up and helped me.

“Thanks,” I said.

“No problem.” He tilted his head. “What’s in the box you’re standing on?”

“I don’t know, why?” I looked down at the box.

“It seems to be bleeding.” He snapped a photo as red liquid oozed out from beneath my feet.

This time I did scream.