Fudge Bites Page 17

  “My pleasure. Let’s go up to the attic and look at the work we’ve been doing there.”

  We went up to my apartment. The apartment was also freezing, as the back door stood wide open for the guys to easily cut wood and move it up. I glanced out and noticed that Rick Manx wasn’t working the saw today.

  That morning, I’d tidied up my apartment and cleaned the bathroom for the guys. Silly, I knew, but my mother had taught me to be hospitable.

  “As you can see,” Elmer started as we walked into the attic, “the beams are all being reinforced. What we’re going to do next is lay new decking right over the top of your existing roof.”

  “Won’t the nails put like a million holes in the roof?” I asked

  “Well, first we’re going to lay down this new product that will make sure we have a water-tight seal. Then we’ll install flat two-by-sixes about every sixteen feet on the roof surface. The decking will attach to that. So no holes in your roof.”

  “Sounds great,” I said

  “Hi, Allie.” Rick looked down from a ladder, where he was nailing in a roof support. “Haley’s firing those pinch pots today.”

  “Thanks for the update,” I said to him, then turned back to Elmer. “You guys have done some great work. You deserve tomorrow off. Thanks.”

  “Hear that, crew? Sunday’s your day off.”

  The guys cheered.

  “I’m going to take Mal for a walk now. Thanks, Elmer. Oh, and Frances and Douglas are still here if you need anything.”

  Mal and I went out, this time with a heavy heart as I once again scanned the sidewalks and back alleys for Mella. Mal was enjoying how much these searches let her explore new places, at least.

  We were in a back alley between residential homes when I saw two people kissing. It was a deep embrace and I tried to look away, but there was no way out of the alley without either turning around or passing them. By that point I was pretty far from the opposite entrance, so I figured I’d just pass quickly. The hard part was keeping Mal from nosing at them. She liked to do that—poke people with her nose as they walked by. Not a single bark or growl, just silently walk up and touch them with her nose.

  I wrapped her leash up so that she had to stay close to me. “Excuse me,” I said as I passed them.

  “Oh, sorry,” the guy said.

  I glanced at the couple quickly, then did a double take. The woman was Haley Manx. Haley was wrapped up in some strange man’s embrace in the middle of the afternoon in a back alley beside a dumpster. “Oh!” I said. “I’m so sorry.” I tried to hurry by, but Haley called out to me.

  “Allie! Allie, slow down. I want to explain.”

  “No need to explain,” I said. I kept walking away, not wanting to look at her. I was embarrassed to have seen her, and I figured she was just as mortified.

  “Please, don’t tell anyone.” She grabbed my arm and stopped me. “Please.”

  “Haley, I’m sorry to have seen that.”

  “Just promise me you won’t tell.”

  “Tell who? Rick? The seniors?” I shook my head and looked at her sadly.

  “We didn’t think anyone would be in this area. The season is over, and the island is basically deserted except for Main and Market streets.”

  “I’m looking for my cat, Mella. She went missing.”

  “The pretty calico?”

  “Yes.”

  “I haven’t seen her, but if I do, I’ll let you know. Please, don’t tell anyone what you saw.”

  “I’ve got to go.” I walked on, letting Mal lead me. So Haley and Rick’s marriage wasn’t solid, but it wasn’t Rick’s fault, like I’d assumed. The man she had been kissing seemed familiar, but I was far too distracted by the sight of Haley to pay much attention to him. I sighed. Sometimes relationships were hard, and things had to fall apart before they got better. Maybe Haley would think about what she was doing before someone else saw her in an alley with a man who wasn’t her husband.

  Which brought me to my own dilemma. I hadn’t heard from either Trent or Rex today. I was sort of glad that I hadn’t heard from Trent because I didn’t need to be pushed to move to Chicago again. The thing is that while it all sounded wonderful, something in my gut told me that I would regret not spending the entire year on the island.

  “I guess if it’s going to be hard, then I need to know how hard it is,” I said to Mal, who looked up at me with a happy face. “You won’t abandon me, will you?” She barked her response. We reached Mrs. Flores’s house, and I stopped and knocked on the door. The house was another bungalow built for the servants who had worked at the cottages and hotels during the 1940s. It was painted a cheery yellow with green shutters. Three pumpkins of various sizes sat on the front porch, and a witch on a broom adorned the door in place of a wreath.

  “I’ll be right there,” I heard an older woman’s voice call. Mal jumped up on me asking to be picked up.

  “No,” I said. “We’re here to talk to Mrs. Flores, not to play the ‘pick up Mal’ game.” I knew Mal liked to meet people face to face and kiss their cheeks. It’s why she asked to be picked up so often.

  The door cracked open, and a tiny woman with a very thin face peered out. She had white hair that was cut short and stuck up in strange places. Her eyes were spring green. She wore a housecoat and slippers. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mrs. Flores? I’m Allie McMurphy. This is Mal. She won’t bite.”

  The door opened wide and she bent to pet Mal. “Of course, she won’t bite,” the old woman crooned. “She’s a good girl, aren’t you?” She petted Mal, and my pup was in seventh heaven. “Well, don’t stand out there in the cold. You’ll catch your death. Come on in.”

  I followed her in and took my shoes off at the door. Her place was warm and cozy and neat as a pin, as my grandmother used to say. I looked at Mal, and she looked at me. I picked her up so that if she had dirt on her feet she wouldn’t track it in.

  “Sit while I make us some coffee.” Mrs. Flores didn’t even look to see if I complied. She bustled off to the kitchen.

  I dutifully sat on the old but immaculate couch. By the style and color, I thought it might have been purchased in the 1970s. But there wasn’t a worn mark on it.

  “Kept it covered in plastic when my kids were younger,” she said when she saw me looking at the couch closely as she walked in carrying a tray with two cups, a coffee pot, small containers of cream and sugar, and a plate of cookies.

  Standing, I asked if I could help take the tray.

  “Nonsense,” she said. “I’m old, not crippled. I’ve handled many a tray of cookies and coffee. Now, I don’t get many visitors, but I’ve been following the stories about you in the Town Crier. What a mind you have for figuring things out! It’s like our own personal soap opera. So tell me, who are you dating now?” She leaned forward.

  I felt heat rush up my cheeks. “I was wondering if you’ve seen my cat, Mella. She’s a calico and has been missing for days. Someone said I should check with you.”

  “I see,” she said. She reached for a cookie, took a bite, and sat back. “You’re not ready to talk about your love life.”

  The blush crept over my face again. I tried to remain calm. “Fine. Trent Jessop wants me to go to Chicago after Christmas to run my fudge shop out of a commercial kitchen there.”

  “Are you going to go? Or are you going to stay here with Rex?”

  “Goodness. Does everyone know everything about my life?”

  She shrugged. “It’s a small island.”

  “Then how come we can’t find out who killed Anthony Vanderbilt?”

  “Ah, that’s a mystery, isn’t it?” She mused “Or is it?”

  “Do you know who would do this?”

  “I have no clue. Anthony Vanderbilt was a great kid. He volunteered at the church as choirmaster.”

  “The church? Which church?”

  “St. John’s,” she said. “You know. The church all the seniors went to when the center blew up.”

&nb
sp; “Huh,” I said, thinking about those hymnals.

  “Why?” She narrowed her eyes. “What do you know about the church? Do you think there’s a connection?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, then shook my head. “There can’t be. What churchgoer would hurt a choir director?”

  “Now that’s the question, isn’t it?”

  I frowned. “Do you know Haley and Rick Manx?”

  “Cute couple. She makes that glass-bottomed pottery. He works in construction.” She leaned closer with a glint of glee in her eye. “I hear Haley is having an affair with that Joshua Spalding—even with him having a wife ready to pop out their first kid!”

  “Wait, Josh Spalding? I thought he was off the island with his wife for her last few weeks.”

  “So you know them?”

  “Yes, we went to see Becky the other day. She was packing to leave. I thought Josh went with her.”

  “You never know about some people,” she said, sitting back. “I’d have never thought anyone would blow up the senior center, but there you have it. It was done. And they still don’t know who did it. Someone with an ax to grind, I think.”

  “Or someone with something to hide,” I said. “Thank you for the coffee and the talk.” I stood and picked up Mal. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Anytime, young lady. Come back and see me sometime. I don’t get out much, you know. It’s nice to see a friendly young face and such a sweet puppy. If you find your cat, you can bring her by anytime. I’m not allergic.”

  “Thank you,” I said. I left Mrs. Flores’s house and put Mal down, and we hurried back to the McMurphy. Mrs. Flores might be right. The man I saw with Haley could be Josh Spalding. My heart sank for Becky. But infidelity was also a motive for murder. And if Anthony was killed mistakenly, then Rick Manx was suspect number one.

  Chapter 18

  Rex walked into my apartment that night looking very much the action hero. He wiped his feet on my kitchen mat and removed his hat. Mal greeted Rex warmly. “I wasn’t expecting you to call,” he said, his voice vibrating through me.

  “I hope it wasn’t a bad surprise,” I said. “Come in, I fixed us a cocktail. I’ve got a couple of steaks, too, if you haven’t eaten.”

  He tilted his head and studied me. “Is this the ‘thanks for the good time, but I’m moving to Chicago’ talk?”

  “What? No!”

  “You sure?”

  I rolled my eyes and handed him a gin and tonic. “Please, come in. Have a drink, sit down, and take your shoes off.”

  “Fine.” He took his shoes off at the door. They were spit-shined service shoes. He was still in his uniform, neatly pressed as usual. It’s like the man was never ruffled. He moved around the kitchen bar to the living area. I picked up my cocktail and followed. Mal kept jumping on him. There was a part of me that wanted to jump on him, too, but I was keeping my cool. “What do you want to talk about?” he asked.

  “Have you seen Mella anywhere? She loves you. I think if anyone would see her, it’s you.”

  “How long has she been missing?”

  “A couple of days. The thing is, ever since she appeared, she’s never been gone more than a few hours. Then I was told maybe Mrs. Flores had her.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Officer Lasko.”

  “Why did she think she had Mella?”

  “I don’t remember. I just remember that she said to check with Mrs. Flores. I assumed she was a cat lover.”

  He lifted the corner of his mouth. “She’s not.” He sipped his drink.

  I sat next to him. “Yeah, I kind of figured that out after I went to see her. Her place was far too neat for pets. She did like Mal, though. So I thought maybe she might like cats, but wasn’t crazy about them.”

  “But she didn’t know anything about Mella.”

  “Not a thing,” I said, shaking my head. “But she did have some interesting information.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, when I was out looking for Mella, I ran across a couple making out in a secluded alley.”

  “That must have been interesting.”

  “It was embarrassing. Even more so when I realized the woman was Haley Manx, and the man she was with was not Rick Manx.”

  “And why exactly is that interesting? I would have thought that you were above spreading gossip.”

  I frowned at him. “This isn’t about gossip. When I went to see Mrs. Flores, we talked about how small the island was. She knew a lot of things about me that I thought were personal. She said that she knew things about everyone . . . like that Joshua Spalding is having an affair with Haley Manx while his wife is pregnant.”

  “I know you have a point in there somewhere.”

  “Josh Spalding was the guy wearing the same zombie costume as Anthony. If the whole island knows about Joshua and Haley . . .”

  “Then so does her husband Rick,” he said.

  “It gives him a motive for murder.”

  “Spalding is still in danger.”

  “Yes. He was alone with Haley in a back alley. I don’t think he’s taking this seriously.”

  “I’ll have my men go talk to Rick Manx.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “While you call it in, I’ll cook our steaks.”

  “Panfry in butter?”

  “The only way to eat a steak.”

  * * *

  After dinner, Rex helped me wash the dishes. “Can you tell me who the person was that you found dead in the brush?”

  “The medical examiner hasn’t made a positive identification yet,” he said.

  “But you didn’t let me see them . . .”

  “You have enough death in your life. You didn’t need to see that. The body had been there long enough to decompose down to just clothes, bones, and a little skin.”

  I winced. “Was it foul play?”

  “Again, the medical examiner will determine that.”

  “Do you think they were connected to the bag with the hymnals and the gold?”

  “Maybe,” he hedged.

  “I’d say most likely,” I said. We finished the dishes and took cups of coffee back to the living room. “What did you do with all that gold?”

  “It’s in an evidence locker,” he said. “No one is going to touch it.”

  “I’m surprised that no one came forward about the missing money, or even the missing hymnals. Do you know which church the hymnals might have come from?”

  “There are only a handful of churches on the island. I took one of the books and visited all the pastors this afternoon. None recognized the hymnals.”

  “What was the publish date on the books? Maybe they’re old.”

  “They weren’t out there that long,” he said. “If they had gotten through a winter, they would have been a mess.”

  I finished the dishes and let out the water. “It doesn’t mean they aren’t old. They might have been stored with the gold in someone’s attic, or even a church’s attic.”

  “Now that makes sense,” he said. “Some of the pastors are relatively new to the island. Maybe I should be talking to the older parishioners.”

  I smiled. “I’ve got the seniors coming back for lunches three days this week. Why don’t you stop by and have a chat with them? I’m betting someone has seen those hymnals before.”

  “They probably know the deceased as well. As Mrs. Flores said, it’s a small community.”

  “Speaking of Mrs. Flores, did you know that Anthony was a choir director at St. John’s? Mrs. Flores told me. Do you think that has any connection?”

  “It seems weak,” he said, then glanced at his phone.

  “What is it?”

  “I had the guys go talk to Spalding and Manx. Pulaski just texted to follow up. He says Manx didn’t act as if he knew anything about Haley having an affair. Trust me. If the guy knew about it, he would have said something to my men.”

  “What about Josh?”

  “Josh admitted to the affair. My guys aske
d if he thought anyone knew. He was pretty sure only you.”

  “Well, he’s wrong. If Mrs. Flores knows, then the other seniors know. I’m surprised they didn’t say anything to Haley when she was teaching us how to make pinch pots.”

  “Knowing this island, they’ve all got some kind of skeletons in their closets.”

  “So they’re afraid to confront her in case their own skeletons show?”

  “That would be my guess,” he said. He finished his coffee. “Thanks for dinner and the info from Mrs. Flores.”

  “Yes, well, I feel sorry for Becky Spalding. I don’t think it’s my place to tell her, but someone should.”

  Rex’s mouth became a thin line. “Josh should be the one to tell her. I’m going to meet with him tonight and highly suggest he make things right.”

  “It’s probably for the best,” I said. “If Anthony was killed by mistake, the killer might still be after Josh.”

  He stood. “I’m going to have to go.”

  I followed him to the back door. “Thanks for coming by. It’s been a heck of a day.”

  He had his hand on the doorknob when he turned and studied me with his gorgeous blue eyes. “Are you going to go to Chicago after Christmas?” he asked softly.

  I hesitated. “Everyone is leaving after Christmas. Jenn has already left. Sandy is going to the Grander Hotel. Frances and Douglas might be going to the Caribbean. Are you going to be here after Christmas? I mean, with so few people left, I can see them cutting down on the police presence. Do you go somewhere for a month or so?”

  He watched me carefully. “I don’t go on vacation. It’s why my second marriage broke up. She couldn’t take the year-round Mackinac experience.”

  “If I stay, will it be just you and me?”

  “Lasko is here year-round as well,” he said. “We need to keep an eye on the drunks and make sure no one goes snow crazy.”

  “Snow crazy?”

  “Yeah, sort of like cabin fever, only it’s from being stuck on the island. I’m not going to lie. It’s isolating, and it can break people.” His gaze hardened for a moment. “I know firsthand how it changes people. I don’t want you to change like that just because you want to prove something to yourself or this island.”