by Nancy CoCo
“What a strange time for arsons to start.” Mr. Beecher frowned, too. “These sorts of things don’t just start out of the blue. For them to start when most of the inhabitants are locals seems odd. I don’t know. Something isn’t adding up.”
“I agree. I was going to ask Pete to fix his fence, but I’m not exactly on speaking terms with him. It might be easier to fix it myself.”
“Good fences make good neighbors,” Mr. Beecher said with a twinkle in his eye. “Or so I’ve heard.”
I smiled. “There is some truth in that, I think.”
“Well, have a good morning.” He patted Mal on the head.
“Wait.” I stopped him. “Do you know Luke Archibald and his son Sherman?”
“Sure, why?”
“I saw Sherman last night cutting through the Oakton yard about the time the fire started. I wondered if he might have seen anything.”
“Sherman is a good kid,” Mr. Beecher said. “Luke has painted some trim for me. Sherman always comes to the site where his father is working. He has a strong interest in becoming a painter or so Luke tells me. I’m sure if Sherman saw anything, he’d let the police know.”
“Thanks. Rex most likely already checked that out. I was just wondering.”
“Well, if you ever need exterior paint work done on the McMurphy, I’d recommend Luke any day.”
“I’ll remember that.” Mal and I started down the alley in the opposite direction of Mr. Beecher. Our walk would take us by the grocery store. I wanted to pick up cat food and a fence repair kit.
The ferries had come in with their first run of tourists. The crowds spilled out of the docks like children entering wonderland. The air was soft and filled with the sounds of waves crashing, boat engines churning, and gulls squawking. The fudge shops had yet to open their doors, but the nearest T-shirt shop and the welcome center were open. People could buy their tickets to get into Fort Mackinac or the art museum. The horse-drawn taxis were lined up along the north side of Main Street.
Mal hurried along. She liked to sniff out all the smells left on the sidewalks from the night before. We stopped outside into the grocery store to look at the produce on display.
Mary Emry was working the counter and stepped out when she saw us. “Good morning. Hi Mal.” She came around the counter to give Mal a good pet. “How’s my favorite puppy today?”
“She’s good,” I said.
“I heard she spotted a fire at the Oakton Pool house,” Mary said as she scratched Mal behind the ears.
“Yes. She slipped under the fence. I was wondering if you had anything to fix it.”
“There is some chicken wire in the back corner with the hardware stuff. I would recommend you get that and then bury the bottom and attach the rest to the fence. That way she can’t do any more digging.”
“I’m pretty sure she didn’t dig the hole under the fence.” I frowned. “I’ve never seen her dig, anyway. But burying the chicken wire sounds like a good idea. Can you watch Mal a minute?” When Mary nodded her agreement, I handed her Mal and headed inside, down the aisle toward the back of the store, picked up a roll of fencing, and went quickly down the pet food aisle to pick up a couple cans of cat food.
I placed my purchases on the checkout counter, and stuck my head out to ask, “Did anyone recognize the cat?”
“Cat?” Mary echoed.
“Yes, the one in the FOUND posters that Jenn put up. The cat is a beautiful stray. She seems to like the McMurphy and has been hanging around my fire escape.”
“Are you sure it’s a girl?”
“I don’t know for sure. I haven’t gotten close enough to find out. Trent picked her up and thought she was a girl.” I shrugged. “It’s a beautiful cat, though. Someone has to be missing it.”
Mary gave me Mal’s leash, stepped inside and rang up my items. The counter was a few steps from the door which was open and so we were able to continue our conversation. “I haven’t heard anyone say that it was their cat. It might have stowed away on the ferry and decided it likes island living.” She noted the cans of food. “You do realize that if you feed it, it will be your cat.”
“I can’t not feed it,” I said with a sigh. “It’s been out there for three days now.”
“Well, if you decide to keep it, you’ll need to catch it and take it to the vet. Make sure it has all its shots and gets spayed or neutered just like Mal or the island will be overrun with feral cats.”
I made a face at the idea of that beautiful cat causing the island to be overrun. It was ridiculous. Nonetheless, having the cat looked at by a vet wasn’t a bad idea. “Maybe I can get Mr. Devaney to catch it for me.”
“Do that,” Mary advised as she held out her hand and I gave her my debit card to swipe. “In the long run, it’s best for the cat and you.”
“Thanks,” I said and picked up my bagged purchases, tucking the bundle of wire under my arm. As Mal and I stepped toward the street, Sophie came through.
“Hi Allie,” Sophie said. “Is this your puppy?” She bent down to pat Mal’s head.
“Yes, this is Marshmallow. Mal for short.”
“Well, hello Mal. Aren’t you cute?” She straightened. “So, Allie, do you know any more about the dead man in the warehouse or who set the explosion?”
I sighed. “It was Rodney Rivers, my pyro technician who died. As far as I know, the police still don’t know who set the explosion.”
“Oh, no. You lost all your fireworks and the guy who can do the show? What are you going to do now?”
“We’ve found replacement fireworks, but I need to get someone to fire them.”
“Isn’t the dead guy’s partner talking to Rex?” Sophie asked.
“He is,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean he has to talk to me. In fact, he came into the McMurphy to tell me that the insurance company would send us a check to pay for the fireworks but that was it. We were on our own.”
“That doesn’t seem right.” Sophie crossed her arms. She wore her pilot uniform of white shirt with epaulets and black slacks stylish with black boots polished to a high sheen. They had squared toes and a stacked heel that was about an inch tall.
“It’s not right,” I said. “I checked the contract and he’s obligated to shoot the shows for us. But he isn’t getting in contact with me.”
“That seems lousy,” Sophie said. “Get Oscar Osborn on it. He’ll send him a certified legal notice.”
“Who’s Oscar Osborn?” I asked.
Sophie laughed. “I forget you are so new to the island. Oscar is the town lawyer. He’s pretty much retired now, but he is active in the chamber of commerce. He handles legal issues that come up, especially ones that threaten something as important to the community as the Star Spangled Fourth celebration.”
“Great, thanks. I’ll call him.” Mal and I took a step to toward the fudge shop.
“Hold on a second,” Sophie said. “I want to grab a soda. Let me do that and then I’ll walk back to the McMurphy with you.”
“Okay.”
Mal sniffed around my feet while I waited for Sophie to get her drink, pay for it, and leave with us.
“Did you have an early flight?” I asked as we stepped into the slowly crowding streets.
“Yes, I brought in the Bailey’s for the week. They own a summer cottage near the library.” Sophie twisted the top off her drink and took a sip. “Theodore Bailey is a principal investor for the group that owns the Grand Hotel and a few other places.”
“I imagine that’s a nice investment property,” I said.
“I wouldn’t know,” Sophie said with a grin. “I’m not much into real estate. I prefer the air to the earth.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, how did you get into flying?” We stepped around the block to cut into the alley that ran behind the Main Street shops.
“My Dad was a pilot. Mom says he took me flying the first day I left the hospital.” She shrugged. “I grew up with it. In fact, I flew my first solo when I was twelv
e. They had to issue me a junior license. My Dad was pretty proud.”
“Did you grow up on Mackinac?” My tone sounded as wistful as I felt. The freedom to fly anywhere sounded so romantic.
She shook her head. “No, I grew up in Green Bay, Wisconsin. My Dad flew for a couple regional companies with small jets. He heard that the Grand was looking for a new pilot and told me to apply. I did and got the job about three years ago.”
“You seem like such a regular fixture around here,” I said. “I had no idea you were also new.”
Sophie laughed. “Yeah, I’m a foreigner here, too. Only other foreigners think I’m not.”
“Great. I keep giving myself away,” I said and sighed. Mal trotted along in front of us.
“What’s the chicken wire for?” Sophie asked.
“There’s a hole in the fence between the McMurphy and the Oakton. I don’t want Mal running over there like she did last night.”
“Tell lazy Pete Thompson to fix it,” Sophie said.
“He’s not talking to me. Mal discovered a fire at his pool house last night and he blames me for the damages.”
“That’s just wrong.” Sophie drew her eyebrows together. “Seriously, that guy is better at making enemies than friends.”
“I take it you know him pretty well?”
“Well enough to have flown him a couple times. The guy complains the entire time. The last time I flew him, he wouldn’t shut up so I did a few barrel rolls. He was too busy being sick to complain anymore.”
I laughed. “That’s one way to shut him up, I guess.”
“I see you have cat food.” Sophie pointed at the cans in the clear plastic bag. “You have a cat and a dog?”
“No, just a dog. A few days ago, Rex let this beautiful cat into the McMurphy. He opened the door to leave and it just walked right in and disappeared up the stairs.”
“Oh, no. Really?”
“Really,” I said with a smile at the memory. “By the next day, Trent Jessop coaxed it out of hiding.”
“Yeah, I could see that,” Sophie said with a twinkle in her eye. “That man is gorgeous. He could coax me out of hiding.”
“I know. We’re kind of dating.”
“Kind of dating? A man like that you do not kind of date,” Sophie said, her eyes twinkling.
I winced. “It’s still pretty new.”
“I heard the rumors,” she teased.
“Anyway, the cat leapt from his arms and Mal chased it out the door.”
“Oh.” Sophie looked confused. “Then why the cat food?”
“It’s been hanging around the alley. We took pictures and have signs up, but so far, no one has come to claim it.”
“You bought the food so that it won’t go hungry.”
I felt the heat of a blush rush over my cheeks. “Yes and yes. I’ve been told if you feed a stray cat, it’s your cat.”
“Cats are great to have around,” Sophie said, “as long as they are spayed or neutered.”
“If no one claims it by the Fourth of July, I’ll see if I can’t get Trent to catch it again and I’ll take it to the vet in St. Ignace and get it taken care of.”
“You are a big softy,” Sophie said.
I grinned. “Yeah. I suppose there are worse things to be.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“Do you have time to come up?” I asked as we hit the back of the McMurphy. “Jenn made some beignets this morning.”
“Sounds lovely. We foreigners need to stick together.”
I laughed. “I agree. We can call ourselves the Foreign Legion.”
“Small in number but mighty in presence.”
As we walked toward the back of the McMurphy, I noticed Luke walking toward the Oakton pool house. “Hey, Luke,” I called and waved.
He stopped. “Good morning, ladies.”
“Hi Luke,” Sophie said.
Mal pulled us toward the hole in the fence as he walked over to us from the other side.
“What brings you to the Oakton?” I asked. “Did Pete call you to repair the fire damage?”
“No. Actually, I’m putting the finishing touches on the trim of the lower level of the B & B.” Luke wore white painter’s jeans, a T-shirt, and a white shirt over that with his name embroidered over the pocket and had a plastic bucket with various paint brushes inside it in his right hand. “Pete turned the formal parlor into a business center. He needed the room painted and the trim painted white to match the rest of the interior trim. He also wants me to come back this fall and paint his hallways.”
“Wait. Pete put in a business office? What’s in it?”
“A few computers and a printer,” Luke said.
“Really? Does he get much call for a business office?” I asked.
Mal tugged on her leash. She wanted to go under the fence so badly and greet Luke.
“I think he is trying to compete with the new Grander Hotel,” Luke said.
“Crazy about the fire,” Sophie said. “Were you here when it happened?”
“No, I’d gone home about half an hour before it broke out. I hear your puppy discovered it.” He glanced at Mal who had given up on the hole and jumped on the fence begging for him to reach over and pet her.
“Yes, she got under the fence through this hole,” I said. “It’s why I bought supplies to fix it.” I held up the chicken wire.
“You should make Pete fix it,” Luke said, drawing his eyebrows together. “It’s his fence, right?”
“Pete’s not exactly speaking to me,” I explained.
“He blames her for the fire,” Sophie added.
“Well, that’s plain silly,” Luke said. “I heard through the grapevine it was an electrical fire.”
“Either way, the siding is going to need to be replaced and painted to match—which means more work for you,” I said with a smile.
“Speaking of work, I’d better get to it.” Luke lifted his bucket to emphasize his words.
“See you,” I said and turned toward the McMurphy. “I bet Sherman was looking for his dad last night.” I opened the back door of the McMurphy and let Mal go. She gathered up her leash and raced off to find Frances.
“I bet that’s it,” Sophie said. “The kid is a bit of a shy one, typical teenager, though, slouching about. Luke did some work out at the airport. Sherman came to see him every day.”
“Aw. Luke must be a good dad for his teenage son to want to hang around with him.”
“He’s a nice guy. His wife is a real sweetheart. In the summers, she works part-time for the Grand in the event planning area so I see her a lot.”
“Who are we talking about?” Frances asked as she stood up from taking off Mal’s leash and harness.
“Luke Archibald,” I said. “He’s painting trim on the lower floor of the Oakton. Pete put in a business center for his guests.”
Frances frowned. “What business person wants to stay at a B & B?”
“That’s what I was thinking.” I put down my bag and chicken wire. “It’s not like they have to print off plane tickets when they leave.”
“I think offering Wi-Fi is too much,” Frances said as she went back to her perch behind the reservations desk. “People come to Mackinac to get away from all that Internet stuff. They want to unplug and experience another, more genteel way of living.”
“And here I thought they came for the fudge,” I said with a laugh.
Sandy was working in the fudge shop. The candy counter shelves were full and she was working on chocolate centerpieces for a wedding.
“It does smell good in here,” Sophie said.
“Frances, have you met Sophie? Sophie, this is Frances. She is my hotel manager.”
“You’re the pilot, right?” Frances held out her hand.
“Yes,” Sophie shook Frances’s hand. “We’ve met before a couple times.”
“I thought so. Pretty gutsy being a female pilot.” Frances looked over the top of her red reading glasses at Sophie. “Good fo
r you.”
“Thanks. I don’t see it as gutsy.”
“She was born into it,” I said. “Like me and the McMurphy.”
“‘Some people are born into greatness,’” Frances quoted with a smile.
“‘Some people have it thrust upon them.’” I finished the quote and picked up the bag with the cat food. “I bought stuff to fix the fence. Can you have Mr. Devaney do it? We’re going upstairs for beignets and coffee. Do you want me to bring you anything?”
“I’ll let Douglas know,” Frances said. “You realize that he will tell you that it’s Pete Thompson’s fence.”
“I know,” I laughed. “Tell him I want to do it anyway.”
“Fine.” Frances waved us off. “I don’t need anything. You two go visit. Take that little rascal with you.”
Mal wagged her stub tail and raced up the stairs in front of us.
“Mal loves to show off the apartment,” I said as we climbed.
“How’s the puppy feel about the cat?” Sophie asked.
“I’m sure the cat will grow on Mal or at the very least Mal will grow on the cat.”
Sophie laughed. “Somehow, I imagine it isn’t Mal you have to worry about.”
Mal stopped a few steps ahead of us and wagged her tail at us as if to say hurry up. I think Sophie was right. Mal got along with all creatures. I just hoped the cat felt the same way.
Chapter 11
“So I have some interesting information,” Liz MacElroy said as she leaned over the candy counter.
It was after five PM and the big crowds had begun to thin out. I was cleaning up the kitchen and setting up for the morning.
Liz had her dark hair pulled back in a thick braid. She wore a pale blue tank top under an open khaki camp shirt, a pair of jeans, and thick hiking boots.
“Spill,” I demanded, my eyes lighting up. “Is it about the explosion?”
“Better, it’s about Rodney Rivers. My research uncovered a couple threatening notes in his e-mail.”
I paused in the middle of wiping down the cooling table. I wasn’t going to tell her that Shane had told Jenn about the threats on Rodney’s phone. I’d learned to keep my mouth shut about investigations when talking with Liz. “How?”
