Fudge Bites Read online

  “Why didn’t she go to the police?”

  “She and Henry were having an affair. She knew about the gold and was helping Henry embezzle money.”

  “Did she know he wasn’t the real pastor?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so. But she saw her uncle and figured he was dead, so the two of them went into the back of the church to get something to hide the body in, but Ralph disappeared when they weren’t looking. He must have come to and tried to get back to the gold, but then collapsed and died from his injury.”

  “Wow,” I said. “Haley and Pastor Henry must have been really worried Ralph would turn up and let people know about the gold.”

  “Except months went by,” Rex continued. “And that’s when Rick got involved. Haley and Fredrick Albert convinced Rick that Ralph had found the gold, but then gone missing. They were pretty sure he hadn’t taken it off the island and figured it had to still be in the church. They convinced Rick to bomb the senior center in order to rock the church off its foundation.”

  “So the congregation would have to hire a construction crew to take the building apart,” I said. “Rick was on the construction crew scheduled to do the demolition. He would be poised to find the money.”

  “Yes.”

  “How is Anthony’s death part of this?” My head hurt.

  “Anthony found out that Haley and Pastor Henry were having an affair. He must have done some digging and found out that the man was a fraud. He pulled him aside the night of the zombie walk to confront him, and Henry killed him.”

  “Why didn’t Anthony go to the church council?”

  “Rick told us that Anthony thought Pastor Henry was doing such a good job with the church that he wanted to give the guy a chance to explain,” Rex said. “But Albert must have panicked and killed him.”

  “What about Josh? Did Haley really set him up?”

  “Yes,” Rex said. “You were asking about Josh because he had the same costume as Anthony. Haley saw it as a way to frame Rick. So she lured Josh to kiss her in front of Mrs. Flores, and then again in the alley that day when you saw her.”

  “She used my investigation to point the finger at her own husband?”

  “When she gave Rick an alibi, she then blackmailed him into doing whatever she wanted.”

  “So she convinced him to sabotage the roof of the McMurphy.”

  “Haley figured out you found the gold,” Rex said. “You got too close to the truth, and she wanted you punished.”

  “But no one was in the building when the roof collapsed.”

  “You got very lucky,” Rex said.

  “She came after me herself,” I said. “She’s really crazy.”

  “Yes,” he said. We were both silent for a few minutes. Then he interrupted my thoughts. “I hear they’re going to keep you overnight.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you coming back to the island after?”

  “Yes. It’s my home. Frances offered me her old place.”

  “You could stay with me,” he said carefully.

  I glanced up at him. “What?”

  “I have a two-bedroom place,” he said. “Room for a dog and a cat and whoever else shows up.”

  “That’s a nice offer.”

  “Hey, Allie.”

  We turned to see Trent walking through the door.

  “I thought I wasn’t supposed to have any visitors,” I said.

  “The nurse likes me,” Trent shoved his hands in his pockets and gave me his most charming smile. “I have to go fix some business stuff soon, but listen, Allie. I know Frances offered her place, but my offer to stay at my place in Chicago still stands. Now it really is the only way you can continue fudge sales through the winter. No, don’t worry about deciding right now. I know you need to recover. You just let me know, and I’ll send Sophie’s plane to come get you and your pets.”

  I swallowed hard as Trent walked to my bedside. “So you’re leaving today?”

  “Yes. Paige called—there’s some trouble in Milwaukee, and I have to go and see that it’s taken care of.” He planted a kiss on my forehead. “I’d kiss your cheek, but it looks like it might hurt.”

  “I can only imagine how terrible I look right now.”

  “You’re a brave girl. Please, consider my invitation. I’ll call you soon.” Trent straightened. “Take care of our girl, Rex.”

  “I will,” Rex said. He turned on his heel to follow Trent out.

  “Wait,” I said.

  Rex stopped in the doorframe and looked back at me.

  “Are you leaving, too?” I asked.

  “Just getting coffee. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Those words were music to my ears. “I didn’t have a chance to answer your question before we were interrupted.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  “Um, does your offer still stand?”

  “Always,” he said. “But I don’t have a commercial kitchen . . .”

  “That’s okay. I’ll use what I’ve got, for now. And we can build one.”

  “Yes,” he said. “We can.” Then he gave me a smile and a nod and left the room.

  The warmth in his face had my heart racing. I was beaten up. The McMurphy was beaten up. But I still had Rex and Mal and Mella and, most importantly, Mackinac Island. I closed my eyes. All in all, the future looked pretty bright. Time to heal. There was a lot of work to do.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to the people of Mackinac Island for putting up with my questions and antics. I love your hospitality. Special thanks go out to my family for their love and support. The only way to get a book written is with a lot of help and patience.

  Thank you to the team at Kensington, especially my editor, Michaela, for the support of this series and making it a joy to write.

  And always, special thanks to my agent, Paige Wheeler.

  Exciting news for cozy mystery fans!

  Don’t miss the first book in NANCY COCO’s

  Oregon Honeycomb Mystery Series

  Death Bee Comes Her

  Coming soon from Kensington Publishing Corp.

  Keep reading to enjoy a sample excerpt . . .

  Chapter 1

  The people who lived on the Oregon coast were a bit . . . quirky, shall we say? Here, hippies, grunge, and hipsters melded their colorful and interesting personalities into a community. That’s the way I liked to think of us, anyway. When most people thought of the West Coast, they probably thought of sun, surf, and sand, right? That didn’t always apply here. We had fog, cool breezes, and rocky shores. Ever see the movie Twilight? It was more like that. In fact, parts of it were filmed nearby.

  Now, I’d lived here my whole life, and I’ve never seen a vampire, but I have seen a few sparkly people. One was Mrs. Baily, who owned a gift shop near the beach. And right now, she was out sweeping in front of her shop.

  “Glitter is the herpes of the craft world,” she’d told me once. “If it gets on you, it will never truly go away. I still find it in the most interesting places.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Baily,” I said. I smiled at the sight of her glittered tee shirt.

  “Hello, Wren. How are you and Everett doing today?”

  “We’re well,” I said. Everett, my cat, purred his reply. “Going for a walk on the beach.”

  “Good day for it,” she said, waving her right hand in the air. “I’d stroll with you, but I’m setting up for next week’s Halloween extravaganza. Is your shop doing anything?”

  “I’m making honey taffy. And we’re dressing up, of course.”

  “Of course,” she said. “This year, I’m going as Little Red Riding Hood. What are you going to be?”

  “Everett is going as a warlock, and I’m going as his familiar.”

  Everett meowed his approval.

  Mrs. Baily laughed. “I think that’s appropriate. See you at the costume parade on Halloween!”

  “Bye,” I said, waving. We continued toward the beach—which was actually only a block or
two from my shop. Most people didn’t look twice when they saw me walking my cat on a leash. Everett loved going for walks. He was a social cat with short, slick, chocolate brown hair and bright green eyes. My Aunt Eloise was a cat fancier and bred Havana Browns. Everett was the great-grandson of her best show cat, Elton, and just as handsome, if I say so myself.

  “Hi, Wren,” Mrs. Miller said as she stepped out of Books and More. “Hello, Everett. Are you two off to the beach?”

  “I thought we’d walk the shore for a bit,” I said. “I’ve been making candy all morning, and I needed to stretch my legs.”

  “Are you making honey taffy for the town’s Halloween celebration?”

  “It’s a favorite for Halloween,” I said. “Funny how people like the honey taffy for Halloween but prefer dark chocolate for the Bigfoot Festival.”

  “Everything in your shop is wonderful,” she said. “In fact, I need a couple of new candles. Is someone minding the store?”

  “Porsha is there,” I said. “She can help you pick out the best beeswax candles for the season.”

  “Oh, good,” Mrs. Miller said. “I’m on my way over there now. Tootles.” I watched her walk off. Mrs. Miller was my grandmother’s neighbor. They had grown up together. While Grandma had to use a walker, Mrs. Miller still got out and around quite well in her athletic shoes, jeans, and jacket. Her short hair was gray and white, but it framed her wide face well.

  Everett and I headed down the nearly empty street. Since it was October, most of the large crowds of tourists had left the coast, leaving the die-hards and the locals. It was my favorite time of year. I loved the colors of fall, when the ocean was a deep cold blue. The trees had begun to turn red and yellow, while the pines stayed dark green. Orange pumpkins dotted the sidewalks and fall wreaths and Halloween decorations adorned the houses.

  Everett was a bit of a talker. He liked to comment on things we came across on our walks. And I had gotten so that I talked with him. “Want to go down to the beach?” I asked him.

  “Are you talking to that cat?” Mrs. Woolright said as she passed by.

  “Oh, hello,” I said. “Yes, I guess I was.”

  She shook her head at me. “You’re a bit too young to be a crazy cat lady.”

  “I’m not crazy,” I said with a smile. “But I’ll admit to being a cat lady.”

  Mrs. Woolright shrugged and went down the street as I winked at Everett. “Shall we go to the beach?” Cats don’t usually care too much for water, but Everett had grown up beside the ocean, and as long as we didn’t get too close to the water’s edge, he didn’t mind the sand.

  He meowed his agreement, and we left the promenade. There were a few slight dunes where the wind had blown the sand between the promenade and the Pacific Ocean. They rolled gently, no more than a yard high, and were covered with waving beach grass. Everett loved the feel of the grass against his fur.

  Bonfires were allowed on the beach, and the evidence of them crunched under our feet. I was enjoying the sound of the ocean and searching the waves for evidence of whales when I felt Everett pull on his leash. “What?” I asked as I looked down. He had discovered a woman sleeping in the sand. “Hello?” I picked the cat up and looked at the woman. She wore nice clothes and didn’t have the look of someone who regularly slept on the beach. “Ma’am?” I shook her shoulder, but she was stiff and cold. “Oh boy.” I jumped back and wiped my hand on my long skirt.

  I grabbed my phone and dialed 9-1-1.

  “9-1-1, how can I help you?”

  “Josie?” I recognized my friend’s voice.

  “Wren?” she asked.

  “When did you start working as a dispatch operator?” I asked, distracted.

  “It’s my first day,” she said with what sounded like nervous pride. “You’re my first call.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Wait, are you okay? I mean, you called 9-1-1.”

  “There’s a woman on the beach, and she’s dead.”

  “Oh! That’s terrible. What are you going to do?”

  “Um, call 9-1-1?” I said and bit my lip, hoping my slightly ditzy friend could help.

  “Right, hold on.” There was the sound of shuffling papers. “Okay, let’s see. Are you in danger?” she asked as if reading from a script.

  “I don’t think so,” I said, glancing around. “I seem to be alone on the shore.”

  “Um, okay, right.” She seemed a bit rattled. “Hold on. Okay, I’m going to contact the police.”

  “Okay, should I stay on the line?” I asked.

  “Yes? I mean, yes, of course,” she said. “Please, stay on the line. You’re sure you’re safe?”

  “I’m sure,” I said. There was a long, awkward pause.

  “The police are on their way.”

  “Great.”

  “Please stay on the line so that I know you are safe.”

  “Okay,” I said. I waited a couple of long moments of silence.

  “Um, so this is awkward. What does she look like?” Josie asked. “Anyone we know?’

  I leaned down closer. “She’s dressed like a country club type. Nice shoes, expensive dress slacks in a swirl pattern, tunic-style black top, and blond hair,” I said. “She might be in her sixties. Strange, though . . .”

  “What?”

  “The sun is out, but you know the wind off the ocean.”

  “Brisk, I bet,” she said. “Why?”

  “She isn’t wearing a jacket.”

  “Weird,” Josie said. “Most ladies that age would be wearing a puffy coat.”

  “Maybe someone killed her and took it,” I said, squatting down to take a closer look. “It wasn’t robbery. She still has her wedding rings and what looks like diamond earrings. They’re large”

  “So does she look familiar?”

  “There’s something familiar, but her face is hidden,” I said with some relief.

  The woman was on her belly with her face down. There didn’t appear to be any wounds, but she did have sand stuck in her hair.

  “Any idea how she died?”

  “I don’t see any obvious signs of trauma,” I said. “There’s some goop in her hair—you know, sand and beach stuff.”

  “And no one else is nearby?”

  I glanced around. “There are a couple of kids walking down the shore toward me.”

  “Keep them away,” she said.

  “Right.” I stood and watched them. “If they get too close, I’ll wave them off. I’m just afraid that if I wave now, they will come see what’s going on.”

  “Oh, okay,” she said. “Can you hear sirens yet?”

  I held my breath and listened to my heart beating in my ears. “Not yet,” I said.

  “Don’t worry, they’re on the way,” she said. “Boy, this job is more stressful than I imagined. I mean, I never imagined anyone dying . . . You know what, I’ll check again with dispatch.”

  I looked down at the dead woman at my feet. Everett was lying nearby, watching everything from a rise in the dunes. The grass sprang up around him, and he looked like a lion on the Serengeti. It struck me that I should keep an eye out for tracks or other evidence and make sure no one stepped in it. I glanced around and saw indentations that might have been the woman’s original tracks in the sand. It didn’t look like anyone else had been there.

  Her hands were curled into fists, drawn against her at the waist. There was a flutter of paper from the edge of one hand, so I took a closer look. She was clutching something. I knew enough to grab a tissue out of the pocket of my skirt before carefully turning her hand to reveal the paper. It started to whip about in the breeze. I wanted to take it, but I didn’t want to upset a crime scene. Still, it might just blow away in the wind. Thinking quickly, I grabbed my phone and took a few pictures. Then I used the tissue to pry the paper from her fist.

  It was a label. A familiar label.

  “What’s going on, Wren?”

  I turned at the sound of a male voice. It was Jim Hampton. Jim wa
s a beat cop and a regular on the promenade. “Josie, Jim Hampton’s here. I’m going to hang up now.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Call me later?”

  “I will.”

  “Wren?” He raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

  “Everett found her,” I said, pointing to the body.

  Jim hunkered down and felt for a pulse. “She’s dead.”

  “I know, I called 9-1-1,” I said, raising my phone. “Josie said she called the police. I’m glad you’re here, but I didn’t hear a siren.”

  It was then that I heard the siren in the distance coming closer. He looked up at me. “I was walking on the promenade and saw you. You looked . . . upset.”

  “I guess I am,” I hugged my waist. “It’s not every day you find a dead body.”

  “Everett seems to be handling it well,” he said. He nodded his head toward my cat, who rolled in the sand.

  “He’s used to dead things,” I said with a shrug. “He’s a cat.”

  “What’s that in your hand?”

  “My phone?”

  “No, the paper you were looking at.”

  “Oh, I found it in her hand,” I said. I held it out to him. “It’s the label off one of my lip balms.” He took it from me.

  “Your lip balm?”

  “From my store.” I looked around. “I make it. It’s beeswax, coconut oil, and honey. My recipe. I also designed the label.”

  “Yes, well, it’s evidence, and you moved it,” he said, standing.

  “I have a picture of her holding it,” I said, as if to prove my limited prowess in evidence collection. “I watch crime shows.”

  He made a dismissive sound. “I’m not sure that will hold up in court.”

  The siren was an ambulance that stopped at the edge of the promenade. Two EMTs hopped out and went in the back for their gear. Jim stood. “Better call the morgue. This woman is long dead.”

  “That’s what I told Josie,” I said. Everett took an interest in the flashing lights of the vehicle, so I picked him up.

  “Neither one of you is a doctor,” the female EMT said. Her name tag said Ritter. She hauled a stretcher out. Her partner was a young guy about my height with bleach-blond hair and a surfer’s tan. He winked at me.