by Duffy Brown
Rudy gave me a the spaceship has landed and the aliens have disembarked look as I said, “I’m not exactly an actor, but—”
“Were you having an affair with that Peep guy?” an elderly man asked. “Did he come to the island to see you? Are you going to do in his mistress next and then his wife?”
The blond guy let out a long-suffering sigh. “If you are going to knock off someone else, please, for the love of all that’s holy, let it be that Zo girl. If I hear one more like come out of her mouth, I’ll do her in myself.”
“For the record,” I rushed in, “I didn’t kill anyone.”
“But you were standing over the body, so that makes you a suspect.” Gabi scribbled in her notebook. “And what about that girl in the purple hat who was in the bushes? We saw her hiding there, and look, you’ve got her hat on the workbench. Is she the killer? Who is she and why was she there? Are you trying to frame her for the murder? That’s a great plot twist you got going on. I love it!”
“No framing,” I said as the Crusaders scribbled madly. “I don’t know why Fiona was there in the bushes or in the dead guy’s room.”
“Fiona?” Gabi squealed, proving once again that I totally sucked when under pressure. “Now we’ve got a name. This is fantastic. And she was in that Peep guy’s room!” They all scribbled again.
Rudy did the keep your mouth shut gesture of slicing his hand across his throat, and he was so right. “You know,” I offered, “the guy who has the skinny on all this is that police officer you saw last night.”
“He’s so handsome.” Gabi batted her lashes, sighed and looked a little faint as the blond guy added, “We tried talking to him and he’s really crabby. He threatened to throw us in jail if we harassed him.”
“See, that’s all just part of the game.” I flashed my best reassuring smile. “He’s supposed to be that way, and the jail part was added for color. What you need to do is go see him again and be persistent, just keep going back. He knows what’s going on, and he had Zo and that wife, Madonna, down at the station, questioning them. Now he knows even more than before. But whatever you do, don’t say anything about seeing the girl in the purple hat. Keep that to yourself and find out what he knows first. You all were really clever to have noticed the purple hat, and you don’t want that important clue to get around to the other groups.”
“You’re right.” Gabi nodded, and the rest joined in. “We have to keep our information quiet if we intend to win the free weekend at the Grand Hotel. The hotel is giving the prize to the whole team that solves the case; isn’t that fantastic? Thanks for your help, and we’ll be sure and tell the police officer you sent us over so he cooperates this time around.”
Before I could tell her Oh, please don’t do that, Gabi and her followers trotted out the door. Rudy leaned against the workbench, his mustache curved in an even bigger smile than before. “Nate Sutter will make you the next victim after sending these people over to him; you know that, don’t you?”
“I was desperate to get rid of them, and they will keep Nate busy for a while till I can find out where in the world Fiona is.” I did a little innocent shrug. “And I sort of already sent another group his way. If Sutter’s going to make me a victim, I might as well really deserve it.”
Rudy laughed. It was one of those big laughs that filled the room, but it sent little tremors down my spine. Nate Sutter was all cop and I was one big pain in his butt.
“You couldn’t be content with just Irma wanting to string you up by your toenails. Now you’ve got Nate on your back?” Rudy said. “You really think that shamrock around your neck is enough to keep you safe after all this?”
“Not a snowball’s chance in hell, but Fiona’s my friend. I can’t sit back and do nothing.”
Rudy sobered. “Yeah, she’s my friend too, and this is serious.” Rudy checked his watch and handed me the socket. “Can you finish up? My latest batch of Mojito Madness fudge is ready and I need to get it sliced up and in the display case for the afternoon rush of fudgies.” He pointed to a screw and nut under the seat. “Just tighten this. Remember, righty tighty, lefty loosey. We want the tighty part, not the loosey. Can’t have the seat fall off when the kids are riding. Bad for business.”
Rudy gave Cleveland and Bambino some of the treats he kept in his pocket. They purred and cuddled up to him like sweet little darling kitties from some YouTube video.
I rented out the Star Wars bike for a week, the Grand Hotel bike and all three of the Downton Abbeys. I started in on my newest paint job, the doggie bike. My plan was to get a little cart that hitched onto the back—a pooch caboose—where the dog could ride along. Earlier this spring I tried a cat carrier and took Cleveland and Bambino for a test run. Bad idea took on a whole new meaning.
I got out the tube of raw sienna for a golden retriever for the puppy bike and ivory black for the black lab, and spotted a woman putting papers in the Town Crier newspaper stand across the street in front of Doud’s Market. Donna said Fiona’s dad did the deliveries this week, and her mom was here on the island too. My guess was this was Mom, and maybe she knew where Fiona was. With it being ten minutes till twelve, Fiona needed to get to the police station before Sutter imploded.
“Hi,” I said, coming up to the newspaper stand. “I’m a friend of Fiona’s and I’m wondering where she is. I haven’t seen her since yesterday.”
The lady was tall and thin like Fiona, her graying hair pulled back in a loose bun with a pencil jabbed through it. My guess was that the pencil part came from running the Crier for twenty-five years.
“She lost some tote bag that she really likes,” the woman said while stacking the papers. “I don’t know what’s so special about a tote bag, but it’s got her in a state.”
The bag! If Fiona left it somewhere, anyone could have taken the olive oil bottle, smacked the Peep over the head and framed Fiona for the deed. “I’m Evie Bloomfield; I operate the bike shop across the street. Fiona and I are friends. In fact, I gave her that tote. It has I the Town Crier on it and—”
The woman stopped stacking papers and stared at me, the thin lines at the corners of her mouth pulling tight, her eyes chilly. “You’re the one who ran into the dead guy on the path. You need to mind your own business, missy. You’ve caused enough trouble.”
“Trust me, getting involved in the Peep Show wasn’t a planned event.”
“Leave Fiona alone. Her father would be heartsick if he knew all . . .” Mamma shook her finger at me. “Look, the guy was slime and he deserved what he got.” Her eyes narrowed. “I have everything under control now, so let it be. No one hurts my family, you understand me, no one. We don’t need your help. We’ll fix this.” The woman tramped off and called over her shoulder, “That’s what parents do, they take care of their kids no matter what.”
Well, dang. Rudy said Walt was really protective of Fiona, and it carried right over to Mamma Bear. Whatever Peep had on Fiona, the parents knew what it was, or at the very least they had their suspicions.
I started back across the street to the bike shop and spotted Irma coming out the front door of the Good Stuff. Sutter on horseback trotted down Main with his pissed-cop face firmly in place. Both of them headed straight for me, and was that Fiona peeking out the window at Rudy’s Rides? How’d I get so popular? It was at times like this that living on an island had definite disadvantages. There was no escape!
6
“Thank heavens you’re both here,” Irma wailed as I met up with her on the porch of Rudy’s Rides. Sutter climbed off his horse and tied the reins to the railing as Fiona ducked back down inside the shop.
“The wedding’s falling apart.” Irma’s apron was splattered with white icing, a smear of chocolate streaked her cheek and she smelled like crème de menthe. Irma looked good enough to eat.
“Mom,” Sutter grumbled in a low voice. “We’ve got a serious problem over at the medical cen
ter, and the instigator of that problem is running around here and I have to find him and find Fiona, and your wedding needs to take a backseat to . . .”
Irma glared up at her son, and his words trailed off. Was that smoke curling from her ears and was her hair actually on fire? Irma took a pink The Good Stuff order pad from her apron and smacked Sutter on the arm. “Backseat?”
“Or,” Sutter added, “maybe not.”
“There’s still time to find your dress,” I rushed in. “I’ve made some calls.”
“It’s not just that. It’s worse.” Irma fished around in her apron pocket again and this time pulled out a little white bride figure made of foam and started squeezing it. “This is a stress ball . . . actually it’s called the stressed-out bride. Brides and Bliss sent it to me; they thought I might need it. A case of gin would have been a better idea, but this is what I got.”
“Look,” Sutter said in his I know everything cop voice. “It’s just a dress. You can find another dress; they’re everywhere.”
That got him three more whacks with the pink order pad along with, “Who raised you, Nathaniel Sutter! You don’t just replace a wedding dress! It took months to find that dress, and it’s not just the dress that’s got me going. Now I need to find another place besides the Butterfly Conservatory to have my wedding. How do these things keep happening?” Irma gave the bride more squeezes.
“The butterflies escaped?” I asked.
“Infestation.” Irma squashed the little bride faster. “It’s an aphid outbreak. No one’s allowed in or out until the ladybug shipment arrives to eat the aphids. Margaret Ingram had to strip buck naked and leave all her clothes inside. Word has it she’s got a great butt and now has two marriage proposals. She said if she knew men were that easy, she’d have stripped a long time ago.”
Irma fished in her apron and pulled out a squishy figure in a black tux with white tie. Eyes bulging and staring at her son, she compressed the bride in her right hand and the groom in her left. “Fix this now!”
“Me?” Sutter took a step back.
Irma’s nostrils flared. “I don’t remember being in labor for twenty-three hours with anyone else on this island. You know weddings, and you solve crimes. Solve this!”
Sutter put his hands on Irma’s shoulders. “Mom, I got a murder going on and—”
“And there’s going to be another murder real soon,” she grumbled deep in her throat. She pointed at me. “Or maybe even more. I want to get married and you two are going to make it happen, and I don’t give a hoot who’s belly-up in that meat keeper over there at the medical center. Do something!”
Irma stomped off, and Sutter and I stared after her. “She’s your mother,” I said.
“And she’s bonkers. I’ve never seen her this way. Even when I painted the cat green for Saint Patrick’s Day and ran the snowmobile into the lake. And why is she harping on me when you’re the one who lost the dress?”
“Brides and Bliss lost the blasted dress, and I had nothing to do with the aphid plague, and you’re the one responsible for the twenty-three-hour thing so you win the prize.”
“I should have stayed in Detroit,” Sutter mumbled as he climbed up on his horse. He held out his hand to me. “I’ll drop you at the conservatory and you can check out when those ladybugs are coming in and how fast they gulp down aphids. I’ve got to get up to the Grand. Zo said she saw Fiona talking to that singer lady, Idle Summers. They’re both from L.A. Maybe there’s something going on with those two and Idle knows where Fiona is.”
The sun caught in Sutter’s hair and for a second—just a second—I forgot about dresses and dead bodies. His silhouette was tall and lean and he looked as if he belonged in the cast from Young Guns. I think this all happened because it had been a while—a long while—since I had anything to do with any kind of guns.
“Hey, are you listening to me?” Sutter grumped. “Fiona? Where she is? Earth to Bloomfield, we got a situation here, remember?”
“Why would you think I know where Fiona is? Was it my time to watch her? Does she have a bell around her neck? We are not joined at the hip and—and—why don’t you check on the aphids and I’ll talk to Idle?”
“Because I’m the freaking police and do the questioning around here, not that anyone cares!” He pointed to the patch on his jacket.
“Fine, I’ll walk up to the Butterfly Conservatory.” Mostly because putting my arms around sun-in-his-hair Sutter right now was not a great idea with my brain and other body parts already in mush mode.
Sutter trotted off and I refused to consider any more hunky cowboy references coming to mind. What was wrong with me? Sutter was over the hill, forty-three years old. He took life too serious, ate healthy, and most important of all had called me a total of five times—just five, I tell you—all winter, proving beyond any doubt that he wasn’t interested. At least he wasn’t interested in me. He was back and forth to Detroit, but that’s no excuse. They have phones in Detroit!
I stomped inside the bike shop as Fiona poked her head out the door that led to the kitchen. “Is he gone?” She had two ice cream cones, one in each hand, and a split lip and a red knot on her forehead.
“For the moment he’s gone,” I said, coming into the shop. “He’s hunting everywhere for you, the guests at the Grand think Peep’s murder is a mystery game and you’re tops on their suspect list, so that means they’re all looking for you too, and what the heck happened this time? You’re all banged up.”
“I got pushed down the steps at the Grand Hotel while sneaking around and I thought the ice cream might help my lip. I could have used ice, but Nutty Buddy tastes better and you always have a stash. Want one?”
I took a bite. “Why would someone push you down the steps?” The first bite of a Nutty Buddy was always the best when the frozen chocolate covered with nuts cracked and then melted in your mouth and all the problems of the world melted away too, at least for thirty seconds.
“I’ve been asking a lot of questions.” Fiona took a nibble of chocolate. “I’m thinking it’s a warning to back off, which if you think about it is a good thing. I’m getting close to the killer and making him nervous.”
“I’m not sure about a nervous killer being a good thing.”
“It means I’m on the right trail, but what I don’t get is how in the world did I wind up a suspect in the Peep Show? I was careful, I hid in the bushes, no one saw me.”
“And you’ve got a purple hat.” I took two licks to stop the ice cream from dripping, then pulled the hat off the workbench and handed it over. “This thing is like a neon sign. People at the Grand saw it last night when you were hiding out, and then I found it in Zo’s room, which was also Peep’s room. I know you didn’t kill Peep, but Idle Summers was nearly doing cartwheels across the Grand Hotel lobby this morning, and I’m pretty sure it has to do with Peepster being on a rolling rack in the refrigerator and not Raisin Bran. Got anything to add to this?”
“I must have left the hat when I went looking for Peep’s cell phone in Zo’s room. One of the maids let me in and did lookout. I helped her pass high school algebra, so she owed me. Idle and I knew each other in L.A. Peep had stuff on her and was threatening to go public with it now that she’s doing really well on the club circuit. I told her to come here to Mackinac to get away from him, and we’d figure out what to do together.”
“As in knock him off?”
“It was on the list.”
I bit my lip instead of the Nutty Buddy. “Ouch!”
“Hey, it was just a suggestion.” She expertly caught an escaped chunk of chocolate at the corner of her mouth. “The Grand’s always looking for name talent, and Idle has a dynamite voice. We got together last night before I met with Peep. Our plan was to talk to him, just talk and convince him to go away. I got nowhere. Peep wanted money and he wanted me to come back to L.A. and work for him on the Scoop or else .
. .” Fiona let out a sigh and stopped eating her ice cream. “Or else he’d tell my parents about some of the more questionable ways I got info back in L.A. and blab about Idle’s checkered past. Neither was an option for either of us. I was so rattled when I left Peep the first time that I lost the yellow bag you gave me somewhere. I have no idea what I did with it, but someone sure found it and the olive oil and used it on Peep and now I’m duck soup.”
“You agreed to pay Peep?”
“What if your parents found out you were a stripper, married and had kids?”
Three customers chose that exact moment to come into the shop. Really? Now? With kids and stripper hanging in the balance? Why couldn’t they come in when Sutter was questioning me about something I didn’t want to tell him, or when Irma wanted to know about the wedding dress?
I handed Fiona my cone and she hustled off for the kitchen. In a sweat over the last bit of Fiona’s news, I somehow managed to rent the pink, purple and white lilac bikes for the week, then took a call for the New York Yankees bike to be delivered up to the Grand by three.
Fiona stuck her head out. “Is it okay?”
“Are you kidding?” I jabbed my hands on my hips. “No, it’s not okay. You’re married and have kids and never told me!”
Licking her Nutty Buddy, then mine to keep it from dripping, Fiona looked a lot calmer than I felt. She reclaimed her stool, crossed her legs and tossed her hair. “Of course I’m not married with kids.”
“You just said that to take ten years off my life?”
“We got interrupted.” She handed me my cone. “I didn’t get a chance to finish what I was saying, but you get my point, right?” She sobered, looking completely serious. “My parents had—have—high expectations for me, and some things they do not need to know. Peep texted me to meet him again in front of the Grand to get the money, and when I showed up there he was saturated in olive oil. That’s all I know about Peep dead, but I don’t believe that Idle and I are the reasons he came here. He could have blackmailed us from anywhere. Why Mackinac Island? That piece of crud had something else up his sleeve, but I have no idea what.”
