by Nancy CoCo
“I’m charging one hundred fifty dollars per night with discounts for multiple nights,” he said. “The suite is two hundred fifty dollars per night.”
“Can I see it?”
“Sure,” he said and motioned toward the staircase. “Right this way.” The attic had originally been set up for maids to use, with wood floors and dormer windows. Harry had turned it into a gorgeous suite complete with an en suite bath that had a jetted tub. The decor was tasteful and modern.
“Why did you change up the decor?” I asked.
“I wanted to do an A/B test to see which decor visitors wanted,” he said. “This one is more expensive, but also more modern. All the rooms have free Wi-Fi and streaming televisions.”
“Most people will be out in the state parks or shopping,” I said. “They rarely use the televisions except to look at weather reports.”
“I figured, but televisions are expected, like irons and ironing boards and a coffee bar,” he said.
I headed downstairs. There was something a bit tension making about being in a room alone with him and a bed. When I reached the bottom I turned and smiled at him. “This is great! Thanks for sharing it with me. We’re doing a promotion for anyone who plans a wedding with Jenn. They can buy out the entire McMurphy to house their family for what evens out to seventy-nine dollars per room per night. You might want to think about doing the same for smaller affairs.”
He reached over the top of me to open the front door. The movement put me dangerously near him. “I don’t know about that,” he said and we walked out onto the porch. “It sounds like a great deal, but I can imagine all the shenanigans that would happen when a single family takes over the building. Think family Christmas or Thanksgiving arguments.”
I laughed. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
He stuck his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “I have a big family. Don’t get me wrong, I love them all, but they can be a handful when left to their own devices.”
“How many brothers and sisters do you have?” I had to ask.
“I’ll tell you over dinner if you want to grab a bite,” he said.
A glance at my watch told me it was early; around five-thirty in the afternoon. “It’s a little early.”
“I can wait until eight if you have things to do,” he said.
“I do owe you a dinner.” I tapped my cheek. “As long as I’m buying . . .”
“Done!” he said. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“See you then,” I said and gave him a quick hug, then went on my way. I vowed not to look back, but it was a very hard vow to keep.
Chocolate Almond Butter Crunch Bars
Ingredients:
1 cup honey
1 cup sugar
1½ cups dark chocolate chips
1½ cups almond butter
4 cups crisp rice cereal
Directions:
Use a medium saucepan to combine the honey, sugar, chocolate chips, and almond butter. Heat on medium heat and stir until melted.
Add the crisp rice cereal and stir to coat. Place in a heavily buttered 8 x 8-in. pan. Chill until set. Slice into 2-inch squares. Store in an airtight container. Makes 16. Enjoy!
Chapter 9
“Do you know who Annie Hawthorne is?” I asked Jenn and Frances as I approached them chatting at the reception desk.
“I have no idea,” Jenn said. “Why?” Today she wore a black jumpsuit and heels.
“Annie lives in St. Ignace,” Frances said and put on her red reading glasses. She typed on her computer. “Her family runs a building contractor shop.” She turned her screen toward us and we saw the building contractor website. There was an older man, a younger man, and a young woman who was very thin and, if dressed right, could look very androgynous.
“As best I can tell, she’s the last person to see Shane that night before we found him in the alley,” I said.
“Shane was with a contractor?” Jenn asked.
“At the Boar’s Head bar around seven p.m.,” I said.
“He must have wanted some advice or to hire someone to help with the cottage remodel,” Frances said.
“That still wouldn’t explain his standing me up for dinner or why he was in that alley,” Jenn said and put her hands on her hips.
“But it’s a start,” I pointed out. “The people I talked to said she was wearing a dark hoodie and jeans. They couldn’t tell if she was a woman or a man, but Terry said it was Annie. I’m going to talk to her.”
“I wish Shane would just tell us what happened that night,” Jenn said. “Then we wouldn’t have to sneak around behind his back.”
The bells over the door rang out and Rex walked in. “Behind whose back?”
“Shane’s,” I said. “Did you know he met with Annie Hawthorne that night?”
“I’m not going to talk with you about an ongoing investigation,” Rex said. “But I did want to talk to you about the fundraiser for the police and firemen’s ball.”
“A ball?” Jenn perked up.
“It’s a lot of fun,” Frances said, “and raises money for the police and firemen, along with the EMTs. Are you bringing us tickets?”
“Yes,” Rex said and pulled out a batch. “Are you in for selling fifty?”
“How much are they?” I asked.
“One hundred fifty dollars per person,” he said. “Two hundred fifty dollars per couple. It pays for the ball and helps us earn a good profit.”
“We’ll take fifty,” Frances said.
“There’s also a silent raffle and I was wondering if you wanted to offer a McMurphy basket. Maybe a two-night stay and some fudge?”
“I can do that,” I said.
“I’ll put together a smaller basket,” Jenn said, “to advertise my event planning business.”
“Great,” Rex said and wrote us down in his notebook. “Thanks, ladies.”
I walked him to the door. “Rex, why don’t I remember a policemen’s ball last year?”
“We usually hold it in April, but this year the committee decided to try the end of June instead.”
“Oh, huh,” I said. “Thanks for stopping by and giving us tickets to sell. I’ll make a great basket. Is a value of around five hundred dollars good?”
“That would be perfect,” he said. “We can usually get a thousand dollars over value in these auctions.”
“Great,” I said as he opened the door and left. “So, Frances, why am I just now learning of this ball? I could have planned for a really big giveaway.”
“It completely slipped my mind this year,” she said. “What with remodeling the McMurphy and everything else going on.”
“Is it elaborate?” Jenn asked. “How elaborate?”
“The ladies like to wear elbow-length gloves,” Frances said. “The theme is usually Victorian.”
“Oh, so there are a lot of ball gowns,” Jenn said and rubbed her hands together. “Goody, I just love a ball gown.”
“I guess I have some shopping to do,” I said. Then glanced at my phone. “Goodness, look at the time. Frances, you and Douglas should go home. Jenn, can you watch the McMurphy for me tonight?”
“Oh no,” she said. “I have a dinner with Shane scheduled and trust me, no one is backing out of it this time.”
“Oh right,” I said and tapped my chin.
“Why?” Jenn asked. “Where were you going?”
“I was going to dinner with Harry Winston,” I said. “To pay him back for his help over Christmas.”
“Harry Winston? The Adonis-looking guy with the remodeled bed and breakfast? That Harry Winston?”
“Yeesss,” I said, sounding suddenly unsure. “Should I not?”
“I thought you were finally getting together with Rex,” Jenn said.
“Well, I don’t know about that,” I said. “Listen, Frances, can you watch the front desk for a few minutes? I’m going to run to Doud’s to pick up some stuff. If we can’t go out, we’ll just dine in. I’ll make my lasagna, open
a bottle of red wine, make a salad, and bam! Dinner is served.”
“Brilliant,” Frances said. “Go on, then, scoot. Douglas and I will wait until you return.”
“Thanks,” I said and grabbed my purse, then strode out of the hotel. I had no idea why Jenn was so set on me dating Rex. I mean, we did hold hands, but he hadn’t called me or invited me out since that day when we got interrupted last month. I wasn’t going to sit on my hands and wait for him.
Besides, I did owe Harry a meal. This was only paying my debt.
* * *
“I have good news and bad news,” I said as I met Harry in the lobby. “I’ll start with the bad news. I have to stay here tonight. I couldn’t find anyone to watch the reservation desk, so I’m sort of on call. You see, we have a buzzer that rings in my apartment should someone come in late and need something or want to be checked in.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” he said and looked a little heartbroken. He wore a very nice dress shirt in blue that made his eyes sparkle, dress slacks, and dress shoes. He smelled of rich cologne and pure male.
“But I have good news,” I said as I took his hand and led him toward the stairs.
“What?” He raised his right eyebrow.
“I’ve made dinner, so we can dine in at my place,” I said.
“Sounds like a great solution,” he said.
He followed me up to the fourth floor. “This is my floor,” I explained. “Over here is my and Jenn’s office—Jenn’s my roommate until her wedding next week. And this,” I got out my key, “is my apartment. Beware—my fur babies like to greet people at the door.”
I heard a joyful bark as I opened the door. Mal jumped up on me for pets, then went straight to Harry. She wagged her little stump tail and put her front paws on his leg. “This is Mal,” I said. “She’s a year old. And this older lady is Caramella, Mella for short.” I scratched Mella’s calico head and behind her ears.
Harry stepped inside and I closed the door behind him. “Well, hello there,” he said to Mal and squatted down to get closer to her height. He gave her a good rubdown. “Do you know any tricks?”
“All kinds,” I said. “Her favorite is up.”
“I saw that,” he said. “Sit.” Mal sat. “Can you do down?” She lay down. “How about roll over?” he asked. Mal rolled and then got up and ran to him so he could pet her and tell her she was wonderful. “She’s so cute.”
“Thanks,” I said.
He rose. “It smells delicious in here.” He stepped over to the couch and greeted Mella. Then he took a seat on one of my barstools.
“It’s my favorite lasagna,” I said. “I went to CIA—the Culinary Institute of America. I majored in candy making because, well, that’s the family business, and I always planned on being here. But I minored in Italian food in case I ever had to do a side gig at a restaurant to pay my bills.”
“Well, you have my mouth watering,” he said and sent me a look that put a little sizzle down my spine.
“Wine?” I said quickly. “I have a nice bold cabernet sauvignon.”
“Sounds great.”
I poured us both wine, then took the lasagna out of the oven to set up. It needed fifteen minutes out of the oven to settle into its flavors. I grabbed my wineglass and moved to the living room. “Come have a seat.”
“The place looks brand-new,” he said. “Did you remodel?”
“I kind of had to,” I said. Then I explained about the roof deck and why the McMurphy needed to be rebuilt.
“That sounds like a lot of work. You wouldn’t even know it,” he said. “Here’s to good work.”
“To good work,” I agreed and we tapped glasses and took a sip.
* * *
The next morning I woke up tired, but with a smile on my face. Harry was great company. We talked for hours about our businesses, our families, and our hopes and dreams. I put two empty wine bottles in the trash. Jenn came home around eleven p.m. and joined us for an hour and then went to bed, which was Harry’s cue to leave.
He left me with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to spend more time together.
“So,” Jenn said as she came into the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee. “Late start today, huh?” She wiggled her eyebrows at me.
“Hush,” I said. “I get to have some fun in life.”
“He’s a cute guy,” she said and leaned against the counter. “What about Rex?”
“Oh my gosh, I completely forgot about him,” I said in a false, Southern belle accent. “Whatever will I do?”
“Oh, I touched a nerve,” Jenn said.
I sighed. “I can’t not have relationships just because Rex might commit to ours. I mean, after two failed marriages he is a little gun-shy.”
“But Harry doesn’t seem gun-shy.” She sipped her coffee.
“I like him, okay? We have a lot in common.” I leaned on the counter across from her. “How was your dinner with Shane last night? Did he tell you why he missed your last dinner date?”
Her mouth became a thin line of disappointment. “No. He said I had to trust him that he would have shown up if he could,” she said. “He promised me that he would always show up if he could.”
“What does that mean?” I asked. “Was he kidnapped or something?”
“He asked me to leave it alone,” she said. “But it sure put a damper on our wedding plans.”
“Did he at least tell you why he met with Annie Hawthorne that night?”
“He did,” she replied. “Remember I told you that he wanted our cottage to have basic remodeling done before the wedding, so he was bringing in a contractor to do some rewiring and plumbing? The other stuff like painting and flooring and such we can do while living there.”
“It’s probably a good idea,” I said. “The house was built in the 1910s. So one-hundred-year-old wiring and plumbing needs upgrading.”
“It was done in the sixties,” she said. “So not quite one hundred years old, but still needing upgrades. We want to be able to have Wi-Fi and a modern washer and dryer set.”
“Makes sense,” I said and glanced at my phone. “Oh shoot, it’s nearly eight and I have to get to work making fudge. What’s on your plate today?”
“I’m spending the day with the Wilkins bride. This morning we’re ordering flowers,” she said. “And after lunch we’re visiting the Grander to see about a groom’s cake.”
“You are a busy woman,” I said.
“Almost as busy as you,” she said. “I’m going to ask Frances to give me some of those police and firemen’s ball tickets. I may be able to sell a few while I’m out and about today.”
“That would be great,” I said. Then I patted Mal on the head and went downstairs to make fudge. I had fed my fur babies first thing and Mal and I went on a short, brisk walk before I’d come back upstairs for coffee. So I knew my babies were taken care of. Mal loved to go down with me when I went to the shop to make fudge. We were usually alone, but I was so late today that Frances was already at her perch behind the registration desk.
“Good morning,” she said. “Did you oversleep?”
“A little,” I replied. “I get to give myself some grace every once in a while. Besides, I shipped all the online orders yesterday. We have two today, so I’ll cut them from the fudge in the display cabinets once I make it.”
Frances held up her hands. “I was simply asking to make sure you weren’t sick.”
“Oh, she’s not sick,” Jenn said, behind me. “She had a date last night.”
I sent her a look as Mal greeted Frances, got her pets, and then went to her doggie bed beside the registration desk.
“We’ll discuss later,” Frances said.
Rolling my eyes, I said, “I’m off to make fudge.”
The rest of the morning went quickly. It usually took me four hours to make the fudge to fill the cabinet. Today was no exception. I picked flavors that matched my online orders: peanut butter and dark chocolate, rum raisin, and cashew milk chocolate. Th
en it was a simple chocolate fudge, a bright strawberry fudge, and a piña colada fudge.
Around lunch, I had a few people walk in off the street to watch me make fudge and then get a taste. I sold a few of the five-pound boxes and a three-pound box. Once I packaged up my online orders and cut a box of samples, I left the fudge shop to relieve Frances so she could go to lunch with Douglas.
I also had some final checkouts of guests who had asked for extensions. Checkout time was eleven a.m., but we did allow for late checkouts.
Carol Tunisian walked in. Mal ran and slid to greet her. Carol laughed with delight and picked her up. Getting picked up was Mal’s favorite thing in the whole world. She would live in my arms if she could.
“How do you get any work done with this cutie around?” Carol asked.
“I have to pretend I don’t see her,” I said. “And even then I give in more times than I should.”
She petted Mal and gave her a kiss before putting her down in her bed. “So, I heard something I thought you might like to know.”
I leaned on the top of the desk. “What?”
“I heard that Shane has made some enemies,” she said.
“Really? Like who?”
“Well, the people he’s helped put away, of course. One of them was Peter Ramfield,”
“Wait, Peter was working with Mike on painting the McMurphy,” I said. “I had no idea he had been in prison.”
“Mike likes to help guys get back on their feet when they get out of prison,” Carol said.
“So you think Peter might have done something to frame Shane?” I asked.
“I heard Peter stopped Shane when he came out of the Boar’s Head that night. He asked him to walk with him and the two went up a side street.”
“Why would he want to talk to Shane?” I asked.
“That’s the key question,” Carol said. “Maybe he had proof that Shane made a mistake. A mistake that got him jail time. Seems like that would be something Shane wouldn’t want people to know. Might be why he’s not talking to you or Jenn about that night.”
“Hmmm,” I said. “That’s a good theory. I’ll see if I can’t find out more. Please let me know if anyone saw Shane or Peter after that meeting, okay?”
