by Nancy CoCo
My phone rang and I pulled it out of my pocket as I made my way to the fudge shop to label and mail the online packages. “Hello?”
“Allie, I know who the woman is,” Liz said on the other end of the line.
I closed the glass door behind me so that everyone in the lobby couldn’t hear. “Who?”
“It’s Becky Langford,” she said.
“I don’t recognize the name,” I said and drew my eyebrows together. “Does she live on Mackinac?”
“She grew up here, but I think she moved away after she and Shane broke up.”
“Wait, she’s Shane’s ex-girlfriend?” My mind spun at the possibility that Shane had been late to dinner because he met with his ex.
“Oh no,” Liz said. “Becky was Shane’s old fiancée.”
That stopped me in my tracks. “Shane had a fiancée?”
“Yes. Those two were hot and heavy starting in high school. They even went to the same college, and Shane proposed to her after he got the job in the county Criminal Investigation Unit. Becky said yes, and the whole island was buzzing. Becky’s folks have a lot of money.”
“So, what happened?”
“Mike Hangleford happened,” Liz said. “There was a rumor that Becky had an affair with Mike. Anyway, Becky sent Shane a Dear John letter, breaking up with him. Then she packed her bags and moved to Oregon. We haven’t seen her since. So no, you don’t know her.”
“What do you think she’s doing back on Mackinac?” I asked.
“I can speculate,” Liz said. “Maybe she heard Shane was getting married and wanted to see him one more time.”
“Why?”
“Nostalgia, maybe,” Liz said. “Or maybe she wanted to see if the sparks were still there. You know, take him back before he says ‘I do.’”
“Yeah, I know a little bit about that,” I muttered. Rex and I had gone on one date when his second wife, Melonie, decided she wanted him back. She’d asked Rex if she could stay with him because she had a stalker. He’d rescued her, certain she wouldn’t be on the island long. But she made it through the winter on the island. So last month Rex demanded she move out of his second bedroom and find her own place.
She wasn’t happy about it, and she let me know whenever she saw me.
Rex hadn’t said anything about dating again. But the fact that Melonie was still on the island put a damper on romance for me.
“Does Jenn know about Becky?” Liz asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “She’s never talked about her. Listen, thanks, Liz, for the tip. Keep me posted when you learn anything and I’ll do the same.” I hung up, made the labels, and prepped my fudge boxes for shipping. Then packed them into my totes and stepped out of the fudge shop. “I’m going to the shipping office,” I said to Frances. “If you see Jenn, can you tell her to set aside some time to meet with me today?”
“Sure will,” Frances said.
The bells on the door jangled as I stepped out into the street. The wind off the lake was brisk. Mal barked from the other side of the door. I’m certain she was upset I didn’t bring her with me, but I didn’t plan to be gone that long.
“Hey, Allie,” Mrs. Tunisian called to me from across the street. She was dressed in a workout outfit and a puffy vest. Her gray hair was covered by a knitted cap with a large pom-pom on top.
“Hi, Mrs. Tunisian,” I said and waited to ensure she crossed the street safely. Once she had her eyes on me, she wouldn’t pay attention to the road. She almost got run over by a carriage a couple of weeks ago, when the horses had returned to the island.
“So, I hear you found another body,” she said with a glint in her eyes. “What are we doing? How are we investigating?”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it yet,” I fibbed and crossed my fingers behind my back. “I still don’t know who the victim was.”
“I can help you with that,” she said and leaned in close. “He was Christopher Harris, the pharmacist.”
“Any idea who would want to kill Christopher?” I asked.
“Maybe for the drugs,” she said. “People love to hold up pharmacists when they need their drugs.”
“But that’s never happened on the island before, has it?” I asked.
“There’s a lot of things that haven’t happened on the island before,” she said and winked at me. “I’ll see what I can find out about Christopher. I’ll be in touch.” She waved at me and walked quickly away.
I shook my head and took my boxes to the shipping store. Then I stopped by the police station.
“How can I help you?” Officer Travers asked from behind the front desk.
“Is Rex around, er, Officer Manning?” I asked.
“He’s in a meeting,” Officer Travers said. “Do you want to leave a message?”
“No,” I said. “I’ll text him.” I went through the door and stopped beside it to write it. Hi, Rex, I texted. Anything new on the murder case? How is Becky doing? Have you any updates? That should get his attention.
My phone rang. It was him.
“Hi Rex,” I answered the phone. “Where are you?”
“How did you know Becky’s name?” he asked.
“You should know by now I have my sources,” I said. “Did you tell Shane he couldn’t talk to us about what happened? Why was he with his ex-fiancée? What happened?”
“Right,” he said and blew out a long breath. “I’m at the Lucky Bean. I’ll pick up drinks if you meet me there. What would you like?”
“Small hot cocoa,” I said and hit END. Then turned on my heel. The Lucky Bean was right across the street from the police station. I opened the door as he stepped out. “Good timing.” He sent me a crooked smile and handed me my cocoa. “Let’s walk along the beach.”
It was cold and the sun had gone down, so the beach was completely abandoned. We walked and sipped in silence for a while, listening to the waves.
“I wish I’d brought Mal out,” I said. “She would like this walk.”
“She’s a clever pup,” Rex said. He was silent for a moment. Then, without looking at me, he said, “I don’t suppose you’re going to leave this alone.”
“Leave what alone?” I pretended not to know what he meant, but we both knew I was lying. “The fact that Melonie has moved out of your place but still gives me the stink eye when she sees me? The fact that you didn’t tell me that she moved out and it takes me finding a dead body to get your attention?”
He was quiet for a moment. “My timing has always sucked.”
“Trent isn’t coming back this summer,” I said. “Paige told me. She’s in charge of all the island properties.”
“So, you’re only left with me?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
“I’m not desperate, if that’s what you mean.” I sipped my coffee.
“I’ve been giving you space,” he said. “You had a lot going on with the rebuilding of the McMurphy and losing your fudge-making assistant.”
“A girl needs friends, too,” I said.
He stopped and looked at me. His gaze was warm and caused a tingle down my spine. “I’ve been tagged as Shane’s best man.”
“I’m Jenn’s maid of honor.”
“So, will you be my plus-one?”
“For the wedding?” I was confused. “Isn’t that assumed?”
He shrugged. “Just thought I’d make it clear that it was a date.”
“But that’s next week, if they’re still getting married and you don’t lock Shane up.”
“I’m not going to lock Shane up,” he said.
“I know, let’s do something crazy and work together on this one,” I said.
“I’m tempted,” he said and brushed a hair away from my face. “But it’s not legal and I don’t want to jeopardize the case.”
“Yep,” I said. “You are a man who never strays from his truth. How is it you’ve been divorced twice?”
“Ouch.” He turned away and continued walking.
“Look,” I said and to
uched his arm. “I’m sorry, that was low. I just want to make sure nothing gets in the way of Jenn’s wedding and long-term happiness.”
“And what about Christopher Harris? Don’t you want to see him get justice? The only way to do that is to do things by the book.”
“Okay,” I said and put my arm down and continued walking.
“Okay, what?”
“You win,” I said. “I’m not going to argue this with you. We’re both too stubborn to see each other’s side.”
He touched my shoulder. “Just . . . just be safe if you’re not going to listen. Okay? Every time you get caught up in one of your investigations, I lose more hair.”
“You shave your head.”
“See? No hair left.”
We both had a chuckle and he reached down and took my hand. We walked back toward Main Street hand in hand, listening to the waves, content with the now.
Chapter 5
Sunday
I had finished making fudge the next morning when I got a text from Mrs. Tunisian: Bring a plate of fudge to the senior center. We have news on the murder investigation.
I texted back that I was on my way. I stepped out of the fudge shop with totes of fudge to be shipped and a plate of fudge for the seniors. Frances was at her station checking out a guest. I piled my totes on the settee next to the front door and grabbed my coat. Mal was there, wagging her stub tail furiously. “Yes, I’ll take you today,” I said. I put on her halter and her leash. “We’re going to the senior center after the shipping office,” I said to Frances.
“Stay safe,” she said and waved me out as she gathered the information for the couple’s next visit.
We were lucky; most people loved to schedule their next visit as they were leaving. Of course my new discount of 20 percent off for five nights didn’t hurt either. In fact, it was working like a charm.
Mal behaved herself quite nicely as we walked down Main Street and then stood in line at the shipping store. Next we walked up toward the senior center. The new building was designed to represent the original native huts that once dotted the landscape, only made with modern materials. It had ramp access for wheelchairs and walkers.
Inside was trimmed with entirely honey-colored wood, warmed with a beeswax rub. There was space for a large kitchen. A small stage area and round tables for meals and the regular bingo night.
Mrs. Vissor met us at the door. “Oh, Allie, Carol said you were coming and bringing fudge. Thank you.” She took the plate from my hands. “I’ll be sure to leave some for everyone else.” Her eyes had a twinkle of mischief in them.
I took off my coat and hung it on the coatrack and walked toward the group of seniors in the far corner, plotting how to help me solve Christopher’s murder. “Hi, guys, what’s up?”
Mal jumped straight into Mr. Faber’s lap. The old man doted on my doggie and she knew she would be welcome.
“Well, we’ve gathered everything we could find out about Christopher the day he died,” Mrs. Tunisian said. She pointed to a whiteboard behind her. “Here’s our unofficial timeline. Mrs. Albertson saw Christopher on his regular run that morning at five thirty a.m. We know he usually runs around the island every day–eight miles in about fifty-five minutes. Right on time, Mrs. Gooseman saw him finishing his run and checking his watch around six. He went home, and thirty minutes later, Mr. Beecher saw him entering the back of the pharmacy dressed in a navy suit, a white shirt, and brown shoes.”
“That’s pretty specific,” I said.
“Do you know what he was wearing when he died?” Mrs. Tunisian asked me.
I winced. “It was dark and I don’t remember.”
“You would remember this suit,” Mrs. Albertson said. “I had to go pick up my prescription and he had his lab coat over it, but still the man was lovely.”
“What time did you pick up your prescription?” I asked.
“I went at nine a.m.,” she said.
“We seniors tend to be early. We only have so much energy and we like to do everything we can before we peter out,” Irene Hammerstein said.
“The next time one of us saw Christopher was at noon,” Mrs. Albertson said. “My friend Agnes saw him at Tim’s New York Deli for lunch. She stopped and asked him how he was. She also asked him if he was dating someone. He said yes, but it was too new to talk about just yet. But yes, he was dating someone new. Someone special.”
“The next time he was seen by a senior was at three p.m. at the pharmacy. Macy Williams said he was filling her prescription when a very pretty girl came in,” Irene continued.
“Was it Becky Langford?” I asked.
“Oh, is Becky back on the island?” Mrs. Abernathy asked.
“Not at the moment,” I said. “But she was earlier.”
“Wait, is Becky the woman who was stabbed in the alley?” Mrs. Tunisian asked.
“Let’s get back to the timeline,” I said. “Did Christopher leave the pharmacy early?”
“No,” Irene said as she shook her head. “He wouldn’t make anyone wait for their prescriptions.”
“Did anyone see him at the pharmacy the rest of the day?” I asked
“Barbara,” she said.
“Mrs. Vissor?” I asked.
“Yes, she was shopping at the pharmacy and chatting with Christopher until six p.m., when he closed up.”
“Isn’t the pharmacy open until nine?” I asked.
“Not on Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Carol said. “They are closed Sundays altogether. I suppose you wouldn’t know. You’re too young to have as many prescriptions as we seniors do.”
“Okay, so he closed up at six p.m. And for the sake of argument, he left with Becky,” I said. “Then where did he go?”
“They were next seen by Flo Johnson going into Mackinac’s Little Gallery,” Irma Gooseman said.
“That sounds like a date,” Carol said. “Don’t you go into an art gallery on a date?”
“It could have been,” I said.
“That would give Shane motive,” Mrs. Albertson said.
“It’s a weak motive,” I said. “He’s engaged to Jenn. They are getting married next week.”
“If the police have to grab at straws, they will grab at his motive no matter how weak,” Irma said. “They have in the past, you know.”
“Yes, I do know from experience,” I agreed. “I need to check into Becky’s background. Maybe she was dating someone else. Perhaps someone in Cheboygan or Mackinaw City, depending on where she’s living now.”
“I heard through the grapevine she lives in Cheboygan but was planning a move to New York City for a new job,” Mrs. Albertson stated.
“Then why go on a date when you’re leaving?” I wondered.
“Maybe she wanted him to go with her,” Carol said. “They could have had a disagreement and Christopher snapped, stabbed her, and she killed him in self-defense.”
“Well, that could be,” I said and drummed my fingers on my chin. “Then Shane found them just before we got there. But that still doesn’t explain why he didn’t show up for dinner with Jenn. They had a date at eight at the Nag’s Head Bar and Grill. Shane never showed. We went out looking for him at eleven p.m. Where was he all that time?”
“You should ask him,” Agnes said.
“Jenn tried,” I replied. “He won’t tell us anything. It’s driving a wedge between Jenn and Shane.”
“Then we’re investigating the wrong person,” Carol said. “We should do a timeline on Shane.”
“All I know is, he was on the five thirty ferry from St. Ignace,” I said and glanced at my watch. “Oh, I’ve got to go.” I snapped a picture of their timeline with my cell phone. “I’m in charge of all the errands for Jenn’s wedding.” I gave each of them a hug and a kiss on the cheek and hurried off.
The table favors had arrived at the dock and would soon be portered to the McMurphy. It was my job to look them over to ensure none were broken and to assemble them. Frances had promised to help with the assembly.
>
The weather was cool, but the first lilacs had started to bloom. In a few weeks it would be the start of the Lilac Festival on the island, celebrated annually in June.
I went into the back of the McMurphy, took off my jacket, and hung it up on one of the hooks near the door. Mal rushed over to get me to take off her leash, wagging her stump tail and begging for me to pick her up. I pulled off her leash, picked her up and rubbed her belly as she put her head on my shoulder. I walked into the lobby to find Mella curled up next to Frances, who was working on the accounting.
“Did the boxes of favors come?” I asked. “I got a notice they were delivered.”
“They are over by the coffee bar,” Frances said. “How’d it go at the senior center?”
“It went well.” I walked over to the four boxes. “Irene Hammerstein and Mrs. Tunisian, had a whole timeline of most of Christopher Harris’s day.”
“Well, that’s good,” she said.
“But what we don’t have is Shane’s timeline to see where they crossed paths and why. And we both know Shane isn’t talking.” I picked up a box cutter and opened the first box. There would be 150 people at Jenn’s wedding. She had picked a beautiful pyramid-shaped glass terrarium. Terrariums had been popular in Victorian times, and because we were on Mackinac Island, Jenn wanted an elegant Victorian wedding. I inspected all the boxes.
“How are the favors?” Frances asked.
“Looks like they all arrived intact,” I said. “Did they deliver the succulents?”
“They did,” Frances said. “I put them upstairs in your office. They will get better sun there.”
“And the matrix for the bottom of the terrarium?
“Came just after the succulents. We have bags of potting soil, bark, moss, river rocks, and charcoal. Also the little toadstools came. They are so cute and match her colors of blush pink and champagne.”
I loved the idea of the little terrariums. But I also knew the work it would take to get them assembled. I grabbed a box and put it in the elevator. Then another and another, until all the boxes were in the elevator, and then I pushed the button for the third floor. The elevator didn’t go up to the fourth floor because that was the owner’s floor and I didn’t want guests to mistakenly go up there. If they had to take the stairs, we could let them know the fourth floor was off limits.
