Fudge Bites Page 23

  “But you could have asked me or Rex about the bag, or where your uncle died.”

  “You were about to figure it out,” she said with a frown.

  “Figure what out?”

  She rolled her eyes. “My husband worked on your roof. He cleaned the gutters and fixed the insulation at the senior center.”

  “Rick is the bomber,” I said. “Did he kill Anthony because he thought Anthony was Josh Spalding?”

  “No,” she said with disgust. “You really aren’t as good at this as I was told. Maybe you weren’t going to figure it out, after all.”

  “I never claimed to be good at anything. It’s my pets who find the bodies and help solve the murders.”

  “Well, I’ve got you and one of your pets here, and that’s good enough for me. At this time of day, there isn’t anyone who will come and save you.” she said. “And with your hotel caved in, no one will miss you. I’ll tell them you decided to leave the island for the winter. They won’t find you until at least next spring.”

  “Your husband killed Anthony, and then blew up the senior center and the roof of the McMurphy?” I asked. “Why? Was it because he thought you were having an affair with Josh?”

  “There was no way he would have thought that. I wasn’t having an affair with Josh—not until you told everyone that Anthony had a twin at the zombie walk, that is. You gave me the idea, really. It was priceless. I made a play for Josh, and he fell for it. I was sure to do it right where you would be.”

  “Wait, the alley? But I didn’t usually go down that alley. I was looking for—”

  “Your cat?” She smiled. “I love that cat. Drew her out myself. She stayed with me until you came looking and found what I wanted you to find. Then I let her go back to Sheila Vissor. The cat started there, you know.”

  “I know now,” I said. “So you wanted me to think your husband killed Anthony? Why? And now you want to kill me because I might figure out your husband blew up the senior center and my place? I don’t understand. Are you incriminating him or not?”

  “You are very bad at this,” she said. Then she glanced around. “The sun is coming up, but we’re in the brush. Start digging.”

  “With what?”

  “Your hands,” she said. “Do you think I’m going to give you a shovel?”

  “What am I digging for?”

  “You’re digging your own grave. Make it long and wide. Shallow or not is up to you.”

  “The dirt is pretty hard packed.”

  “No, it’s not,” she said. “It’s mostly sand. So get down on your knees and dig.”

  Chapter 25

  I knelt and pushed the leaves and debris away, revealing sand and rocks. I grabbed a bigger rock and used it as a scoop to push the dirt away. Mal thought it was a great game and started digging beside me.

  “Can you at least tell me who killed Anthony?”

  “I thought you knew,” she said.

  “Was it Rick?”

  “No, silly. Rick wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  I looked over my shoulder at her. “You killed Anthony? Why?”

  “Why would I get my hands dirty doing that? I thought you determined it was a crime of passion.”

  “You didn’t kill Anthony, but your real boyfriend did,” I said slowly. I finally understood what she was trying to tell me.

  “Now you’re getting there,” she said. “Dig faster. The sun’s coming up, and some of those pesky senior citizens will start walking around soon.”

  “How long have you been having an affair with Pastor Henry?” I asked as I continued to scrape out a shallow grave.

  “You’re a good guesser,” she said.

  “He’s not a real pastor, is he?” I said to the ground. “He came here looking for treasure. The treasure your uncle found.”

  “The treasure my uncle was obsessed with,” she said. “Nearly two years we hunted for that gold. Then when we actually find it, my stupid uncle can’t wait to tell everyone about it. Stupid man. He was going to run straight to the senior center and blab the whole tale.”

  “So you killed him.”

  She shrugged. “We argued, and things got heated. That’s it.”

  I sat back and looked up at her. “You argued with your uncle, but Pastor Henry killed him.”

  “I told you it got heated. My uncle attacked me. Henry knocked him down. End of story.”

  “Someone bashed your uncle in the head. It killed him, just not right away. He got away and took the gold with him.”

  “When he didn’t come back, Henry told me he must have left the island.”

  “And the gold?”

  “We thought it was still in the church. We didn’t know it was in that bag of stupid hymnals he had taken. And I suspected Henry might have it, of course. Kept my eye on him. What’s that old saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

  “That’s why you made friends with me. But really, why did Anthony have to die?”

  “He knew something was up. He kept asking about Ralph. Then he caught me with Henry and figured it out pretty quick. Henry had to silence him.”

  “Because you hadn’t found the gold yet, and your uncle wasn’t anywhere to be found, either.”

  “We were sure it was in the church. I told Henry to shake the place to the rafters.”

  “So he came up with the idea of exploding the senior center. How did you talk Rick into bombing it?”

  “I told him about the gold. He came up with the idea of the fake bomb to get everyone out. No one was going to get hurt, but the bombs were set with enough impact to shake the church off its foundation. It gave us a chance to go back through the church and all the spots my uncle had dug around in without anyone thinking anything of it.”

  “Until we found your uncle.”

  “I knew there was more than hymnals in the bag when your boyfriend started going around asking about what was in the bag. No one goes to all that trouble to identify a bunch of old church books.” She shook her head. “That grave isn’t digging itself.”

  “If you shoot that gun, people will come running.”

  “She doesn’t have to shoot.” It was Pastor Henry—or, I supposed, just Henry. He had a baseball bat in his hands. “A club is quieter and deadlier. Just ask Ralph.”

  My heart skipped a beat. Mal stopped playing in the dirt and leapt up to jump on the priest and ask for pets.

  “Hello, pup,” he said. He swooped down and grabbed Mal by the scruff, lifting her up to look into her face. “Do you like to play baseball? Huh? Want to be the ball?” He acted as if he was going to toss her when Mella leapt out of the bushes and onto his back with a hiss. She scratched and clawed and bit at him, and he dropped Mal and whirled. I grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it into Haley’s eyes, picked up my pup, and sprinted to the street.

  A gunshot went off, and I ducked. Mal barked. In the distance, I could hear Mella yowling. I fumbled for my phone and dialed 9-1-1 as I ran, terrified. I felt like I had been running forever and for no time at all when Henry appeared in front of me with the bat in his hands. His face was scratched and bleeding where Mella had done a number on him. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

  “It’s a small island,” I said. “People will know what you’ve done.”

  “You should have let her be,” Henry said to Haley, who came up from behind me.

  “She was going to figure it out,” Haley said.

  “If you had let her be, the money would have come back to the church, and we could have left quietly. Now we have to kill her and make it look like an accident.”

  I held Mal to my chest. “Pastor Henry, Haley, you should stop now,” I said. “I’m certain everyone heard the gunshot.”

  “The cat attacked me,” he said. “I was afraid it was rabid, so I had to kill it.”

  “Mella! No, no, no!” I put Mal down and rushed him. He must not have expected it because he stepped back. It was enough for me to hook my leg around his and push
him backward. The bat came up and whacked me in the face. I barely registered it as I planted my fist in his face over and over.

  “Stop!” Large, steady hands pulled me off of the pastor. They belonged to Rex.

  “He killed Mella!” I struggled against Rex. Mal barked beside me.

  Officer Brown had Henry up and was handcuffing him. Officer Lasko had Haley in handcuffs as well.

  “Mella’s fine,” Rex said. “She’s okay. Look.” He pointed to the edge of the brush, where my beautiful calico cat sat licking the blood from her paws.

  “Oh,” I said. “Good.” Then everything went black. I woke up to George Marron standing over me, flashing a light in my eyes. “Hello,” I said. “You’re handsome.”

  “Hang in there, Allie.”

  The next thing I knew, I was in a moving vehicle. I felt lighter than air, and there was a cartoon character in the corner smiling at me. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s okay. We’ve got you,” said a female voice.

  There was an old slab and grind of a chunk, chunk, chunk. I tried to sit up, but I was tied down. The ceiling was too close to my face. I heard a disembodied voice telling me to stay still.

  Then I was in a hospital room. The place was dark. There was a window, but it was night out. Rex and Trent were sleeping in chairs opposite each other.

  “Hello,” said a soft voice.

  I turned to see a nurse peering down at me. “Hi.” My throat was dry.

  “I can get you some ice chips,” she said. She disappeared.

  I closed my eyes for a moment, and then it was morning. Someone held my hand. I turned my head, and it throbbed. I peered out from under my eyelids to see Trent standing there. He had a five o’clock shadow on his chin and looked decidedly sexy in a rumpled Italian suit. “Hi,” I said.

  “Hey.” He squeezed my hand. “You gave us quite a scare.”

  “Did they get Pastor Henry?”

  “We got him.” Rex’s voice floated over me. I turned my head to find him on the opposite side of the bed. He wore a freshly pressed police uniform and held his hat under his arm. His face was cleanshaven.

  “Mella?”

  “She’s alive and well,” Rex said. “Sheila is watching over her. Frances is taking care of Mal.”

  “Okay.” I tried to sit up and it hurt so I eased back down. “What happened? Why am I here? I have a vague memory of hitting Pastor Henry.” I looked at my right hand. The knuckles were bruised and scraped.

  “You were hit in the head with a baseball bat,” Rex said.

  “Oh, right.” I closed my eyes. “Pastor Henry tried to hurt Mella. I sort of flipped out.”

  “They’re calling you a right-handed slugger,” Trent said with a short laugh. “Not good for Henry.”

  “He’s not a pastor,” Rex said. “His fingerprints were in the system. It seems the real Pastor Henry died in his sleep three years ago. This guy—his name is Fredrick Albert—had heard about the legend of the gold at St. John’s. He assumed Pastor Henry’s identity and moved into the rectory to look for the treasure.”

  “My baby’s awake!” My mother pushed her way into the room, grabbed me, and gave me a big hug. My head pounded and pain shot through my cheeks.

  “Ouch.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I’m just so glad you’re awake and okay.”

  “How are you doing sweetie?” my dad asked and carefully kissed my forehead.

  “I’m okay.”

  “That’s my slugger,” he said with a half-smile.

  “You heard about that?”

  “It’s all over the news.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” I said.

  “About what?”

  “The McMurphy. I had it less than a year, and it’s ruined.”

  “It’s not ruined,” he said. “It just needs a new roof, and the apartment could use a remodel. Trust me, I’m an architect. I can draw up some plans to make it even better.”

  “In the meantime, you’ll come home, of course,” Mom said.

  “Home?” I winced. “Mackinac Island is my home, Mom. You know that. You don’t live with your parents.”

  She sighed. “I was married to your father when I left.”

  “I don’t have to be married to make that decision.”

  She patted my hand. “No, honey, you don’t.”

  “Where are you going to stay, then?” Dad asked.

  “She’ll stay in my old place,” Frances said as she and Douglas entered the room with flowers in their hands. “It’s perfect for a single woman. I haven’t had the time to put it up for sale.”

  “It’s only until we get the McMurphy back to livable conditions,” I said. “I’ll have a team on it right away. I want to save as much of the lower-floor remodeling as I can.”

  “There’s going to be a lot of damage, kiddo,” Dad said gently. “The explosion must have set off the sprinkler system.”

  “I’ve got the insurance claims adjuster set to come in tomorrow, now that the fire chief is done with the building,” Douglas said. “They’ll get you the seed money you need to repair it.”

  “I’ve got some extra money saved up,” Dad said.

  “No, Dad. I can figure this out.”

  “The Jessops would be happy to invest in another Main Street property,” Trent said.

  “No, thanks,” I said firmly. “The hotel has been McMurphy owned since the beginning, and I’m not going to change that now.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Trent said. “When you get married, you’ll change your name, and the hotel will change families.”

  “Who’s getting married?” Mom asked. “Allie?”

  “I’m not getting married,” I said, giving Trent the stink eye.

  “Wait, so you’re never going to get married?” Mom looked panicked.

  “Not yet,” I said. “Someday.”

  “And on that day, the McMurphy will be under a new family name,” Trent pointed out with his arms crossed over his chest. “So why not let another family invest in it now?”

  “An investor makes sense,” Dad said.

  “Dad, I thought you of all people would want to keep it in the family. And it doesn’t matter if I get married or not—I’ll still be a McMurphy.”

  “Honey—”

  “My head hurts,” I said, lying back down. I was ready for this conversation to be over.

  “Maybe you should let her rest,” a nurse said. “Lots of visitors in here.” She shepherded them all out.

  “Where am I?” I asked her, glancing out the window.

  “They air lifted you to Cheboygan Memorial,” she said. “I’m Emma. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “You look pretty beaten up.”

  “You should see the other guy.” I smiled, and it hurt. “Ow.”

  “Your hands don’t show any defensive wounds. Just a lot of dirt and a few broken nails.”

  “My cat got him,” I said.

  “Good cat,” she said. “The doctor wants to hold you for twenty-four hours. You’ve had two head injuries in a short time. We need to keep a good eye on you.”

  I sighed. “Where are my pets again? I can’t seem to hold a thought in my head.”

  “Frances is looking after them both,” Rex said from the doorway.

  “I thought you all had to leave,” I said as the nurse let herself out.

  “I’m a cop. I get to ask you questions.”

  “I know you saved me yet again.” Tears welled up in my eyes. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

  “You dialed 9-1-1,” Rex said, “and left the phone on. We had already heard the shot and were heading in that general direction, and your call allowed us to find you more easily. Good work.”

  “Mella came out of nowhere and attacked Pastor Henry, or whoever he is.”

  “We got fingerprints off the portion of your roof where the detonator was. They belonged to Rick Manx. We picked him up early this morning, and he told us everything.”


  “Everything?”

  “Everything,” Rex said. “Like I said, Pastor Henry isn’t the real Pastor Henry.”

  “Right. How exactly was he able to assume Pastor Henry’s identity?” I asked. “Didn’t someone know he wasn’t real?”

  “The real Pastor Henry died three years ago in Minnesota,” Rex said. “Fredrick Albert was the caretaker at his church. He overheard someone tell the story of the treasure of St. John’s, so he stole the pastor’s identity and forged the letter from the bishop.”

  “He pretended to be a pastor in order to find hidden gold?” I asked. “That seems like a lot of work.”

  “Not really,” Rex said. “He got free room and board, and a salary. Plus, he was siphoning off church funds.”

  “But I thought the church didn’t have much money,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “How can you steal what isn’t there?”

  “The church had money. Mr. Albert was embezzling half of the donations that came in.”

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  “Rick told us.”

  “Can you believe him?”

  “I think so,” Rex said. “I’m having an accountant go over the church books.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “How is Rick involved?”

  Rex sat down. The nurse, who had returned, scowled at him, but we both ignored her. “Let me start at the beginning. Haley’s uncle, Ralph, was looking for the gold.

  “He had a deal with the pretend pastor, he thought. If Ralph found the treasure, then he would get a finder’s fee and the church would keep the gold.”

  “So Ralph did it?” I asked

  “Ralph found it in the bag of hymnals, and he hid it in the woods. Then he told Henry, aka Albert, that he had found it,” Rex said. “Ralph didn’t know he wasn’t dealing with the real Pastor Henry. The pastor wanted Ralph to bring it to him, but Ralph wanted to be the hero. He wanted to tell everyone he had found the gold and to make a big splash about giving it to the church.”

  “But Henry wanted to keep it himself. The last thing he wanted was for everyone to know the gold was found.”

  “Exactly,” Rex said. “They struggled, and Henry hit Ralph on the head with a two-by-four. Ralph went down, and Henry panicked. Haley came in and saw her uncle unconscious on the church floor.”