by Nancy CoCo
“It doesn’t really matter,” Allie said. “Albert Gray didn’t do it.”
“So, what, you’re back to accusing me?” Bill asked. “That’s ridiculous.”
“You bought this rawhide for Marley the evening that Tim was killed, didn’t you?” Allie said.
“What if I did?” Bill said, and crossed his arms over his chest. “It doesn’t prove I hurt Tim.”
I noticed Officer Brown and Rex shifting their weight as if preparing for a fight. Charles’s hand went to his sidearm.
“I saw it in your backpack that first night of the pub crawl,” Allie said. “I remember thinking how funny it would be to get one for Mal—my bichon. You see, it’s twice Mal’s size.”
“Wait, that’s why you two gasped,” I said as I turned to Karla and Eliza. “You know Bill bought it and gave it to Marley.”
“Even if I did,” Bill said, “it doesn’t prove I killed Tim.”
“He was with us all night,” Karla protested. “Right, Eliza?”
“Yes,” Eliza agreed.
“Really?” Allie asked. “Did you see him give the rawhide to Marley?”
They both looked startled and thought about it. Karla opened and closed her mouth, but neither woman spoke. They both looked at Bill.
“You brought us coffee in the morning,” Eliza said, horror dawning on her features. “You slipped out and brought us coffee.”
“It still doesn’t prove anything,” Bill said as he leaned onto the balls of his feet.
“You wear a size thirteen, width four-E, don’t you?” Shane said as he came up behind us. I noticed that Marley reacted to Shane’s presence by whipping his wide tail against the dog run fence with a whoosh, clang, whoosh, clang.
“How do you know?” Bill stuck out his chin.
“He does,” Karla said, and she stepped away from Bill, toward Eliza. She locked her arm with Eliza’s.
“The test results of the footprints I processed yesterday showed a person who wore size-thirteen boots, width four-E, and a second person, with size ten narrow, fought outside the cabin. Our victim wore a size ten, narrow.”
“Albert Gray could wear a size thirteen, four-E,” Bill said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yes, but Marley wouldn’t let him near Tim,” I said. “And you bought the rawhide.”
“You slipped out of the hotel that morning, didn’t you, Bill?” Allie said.
“I went to check on Tim,” Bill admitted. “It doesn’t mean I killed him. Why would I kill him? He was my friend.”
“Because you’re in love with Eliza,” I said. “You had enough of the way Tim acted around Eliza. It was you, Bill, who suggested that Eliza spend the night with you and Karla. Wasn’t it?”
“I didn’t think she should be alone with that drunken jerk,” Bill said. “It was safer for her to stay with us and let Tim sleep off his beer.”
“You couldn’t sleep knowing that Tim had humiliated Eliza yet again, could you?” Allie said. “So you slipped out to confront Tim, but Tim told you he figured out that you loved Eliza. He threatened to tell Karla. You couldn’t have him do that,” Allie said. “So you grabbed the nearest rock and smashed Tim’s head in.”
“He attacked me,” Bill said. “It was purely self-defense.”
Eliza and Karla gasped and hugged each other, distancing themselves from Bill.
“You have to believe me,” Bill said, holding his hands up. “It was self-defense.”
“If it was self-defense, why did you toss Tim’s body down the hillside?” Allie asked. “Why not call the police and tell them what happened?”
“I panicked,” Bill said, and sent Eliza a pleading look. “All I could think was what he was doing to you—how you deserved better.”
“Bill Gold, you are under arrest for the murder of Tim Slater,” Rex said, and took Bill’s hands and cuffed them behind him. “I’m certain the prosecutor will also be leveling charges for obstruction of justice and harm to a corpse.”
“Eliza, I did it for you,” Bill said over his shoulder as Rex and Officer Brown hauled Bill away. “Karla, call me a lawyer.”
“Well, I take it I’m free to go?” Albert Gray asked.
“Sure, thanks for coming over,” Allie said. “I wanted to prove my point.”
“You certainly did that,” Albert said.
“What are you going to do now, Eliza?” I asked. The two women stared in shock at the retreating back of Karla’s husband.
“I don’t know,” Eliza said. “Go back to New York State, because I really need to think this through.”
“And Karla?” I asked.
The raven-haired woman’s dark eyes glittered with outrage and shock. “Oh, I’m going to call a lawyer, all right—a divorce lawyer. I always knew Bill was half in-love with Eliza, but I never expected him to act on it. Come on, Eliza, let’s get out of here.”
Allie put her arm through mine and turned us toward the drive that led down to Main Street and the McMurphy Hotel. “Another murder solved.”
“And this time without Mal,” I said.
“Yes, well, the snow is a little too deep for her puppy legs to navigate,” Allie said. “Besides, it’s nice to know I can solve one on my own.”
We both laughed.
Chapter 7
The day of the Santa race dawned clear and cold. There were at least one hundred runners out in Santa gear. As soon as the pink light of dawn crested the waters of Lake Huron, we lined up. Allie wasn’t running, but she and Mal were at the starting line to cheer me on, and I knew they would be at the finish, too. The trail around the island was eight miles. It was a stretch for me in the winter, but I knew it was well shoveled. Plus, I could stop for water and warm cocoa along the way.
If I made the route, I would raise two hundred dollars for the women and children’s clinic. That alone made me feel good.
“Runners to your mark,” the mayor called.
Everyone tensed up, ready to spring into action, Santa suit or not.
“Go!” He shot a popgun into the air and the mass of runners took off down Main Street.
I jostled my way through the pack. By the time we rounded the curve and the trail narrowed next to the school, people had begun to thin out and run along in packs. The serious runners were already half a mile ahead of me and everyone else. I let them go, wistful that it wasn’t me in the lead. I had figured out a few years ago that I wasn’t competitive as a runner, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t try to better my own time. I glanced at my watch and saw that I was doing well.
The island was gorgeous in the winter. Snow covered everything in a soft white blanket. The sound of the waves cresting along the shore kept time with my breathing. I passed the spot where I’d found Tim Slater, and my thoughts turned to how satisfactory it was to catch a killer. Then my thoughts turned to how sad I was not to have spent time with Shane. I wanted to tell him about my plan to return in the spring and build my event-planning business. As the business grew, I could put down roots.
This felt like the place of my heart. I knew I was in love with Shane. My chest squeezed at the idea that he didn’t love me back. Or that leaving for my gig in Chicago meant I lost him forever. Worse, my mind kept thinking he found someone prettier or smarter or . . . I tried not to think too much as I hit the halfway mark. I grabbed icy cold water, guzzled it down, and kept going.
Over the short time frame of nine months, Allie had built a solid foundation for a life on Mackinac Island. I envied her. I didn’t have family ties to the area. I’d pretty much grown up in the Chicago suburbs. My parents had divorced when I was in seventh grade, and my family—such as it is—was small and disjointed. I made up for it by making as many friends as possible wherever I went. If one person left me, there was always another.
But with Shane it was different. I didn’t want another guy to take Shane’s place. It was time to tell him and see what he said about it. That is, if he was still on the island. Since the investigation wrapped up, I w
asn’t sure if I’d even see him again.
I rounded the final corner with the finish line in my sight. My breathing was ragged and my legs hurt in a pleasant way. I saw Allie standing with Mal on a leash beside her. Frances and Allie’s curmudgeon handyman, Mr. Devaney, were there as well. I saw Rex Manning and Trent Jessop in the crowd, calling my name. They were cheering me on and I smiled. I’m sure I looked a fright in my loose-fitting Santa top of red flannel with white faux-fur trim. My Santa hat was securely clamped down on my head. My face was sweaty, but my heart was pumping and my body was strong.
With their encouragement I sprinted to the finish. “Yes!”
“Yay!” Allie said, and came over to give me a hug.
I put my hands on my thighs and bent over to catch my breath.
“Congratulations!” Allie said, giving me a squeeze. “You did it! Fifty-three-point-five minutes. Great job!”
“Wow,” I said, straightening. “That’s a personal best.”
“Good job, Mrs. Claus,” Trent said, and patted me on the back.
“Wonderful time,” Frances said, and gave me a quick hug.
“Congrats,” Mr. Devaney said.
“Thanks,” I said as Allie brought me a cup of hot cocoa. I took a sip and let the warm liquid slide down my throat.
“Good job, Jenn,” Rex said.
We waited another twenty minutes and cheered on the other people who completed the course. Then there was a short medal ceremony where the winners in each age bracket were celebrated. I kept sipping cocoa to rehydrate and stay warm. I found myself searching the crowds for Shane.
“Come on, guys,” Allie said while Mal danced beside her, trying to get in on all the commotion. “Let’s go back to the McMurphy. I’ve got a brunch spread set out to celebrate Jenn’s victory.”
I laughed. “Really? I’m ten minutes behind the front runners and no medal to be had.”
“Hey, finishing is a victory,” Allie said with a twinkle in her eye. “Let’s celebrate.”
We walked over as a group, dodging the street full of runners and families in red-and-white Santa hats and costumes. My fingers were growing stiff from the cold. Sweat had frozen onto my face. I could tell because I tasted salt when I licked my lips. Maybe it was a good thing that Shane wasn’t there. That way he didn’t see me all messy and most probably red-faced from my run.
Trent opened the door to the McMurphy and held it for us all to enter. I was last in the group; and as I stepped up to the door, I heard my name. I turned to see Shane standing near the corner of the building. His hands were in the pockets of his parka. His hair was mussed and standing up in places. His gaze seemed earnest from behind his horn-rimmed glasses.
“Oh, hi,” I said.
“You coming in?” Trent asked me.
“In a minute,” I said. “You go ahead.” Trent went inside and I waited for Shane to approach. My heart tripped in my chest. He was so adorable. “Hi,” I repeated mindlessly.
“Congrats on finishing the run,” Shane said.
“Thanks.”
“Listen—”
“I’m glad to see you—”
We both talked at the same time and smiled.
“You go first,” I offered.
“Okay,” he said, and took a deep breath before looking me in the eye. “I wanted to say I’m sorry for blowing you off yesterday.”
“Yeah,” I said, and then softened my comment with a smile. “That was pretty mean of you.”
“I just . . .” He blew out a breath and pushed the hair out of his eyes. “I’ve been afraid of seeing you again.”
“Why?” I asked, drawing my eyebrows together.
“I didn’t want to know that you met someone in Chicago. That maybe this would be the last time I see you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “But then I thought if this is the last time I see you, I want to talk to you. I want to tell you how I feel.”
“I love you,” I blurted out, and then held my breath and bit my lip.
“What?”
“I love you,” I said in a near whisper. “I’m not seeing anyone else. Are you?”
“No,” he said, with his expression still stunned as if trying to catch up with the turn in the conversation. “No, I’m not seeing anyone else. Jennifer, I love you, and I want to know if you’ll consider leaving Chicago and moving to St. Ignace or Mackinac Island?”
I threw my arms around his neck. It didn’t matter that I was sweaty and cold. The sun was shining and my heart was light. “Yes,” I said, and kissed him. He kissed me back and my happiness was complete. Then I pulled away. “Wait . . . is this a proposal?”
He swallowed hard. His arms tightened around me. “Yes.” He got down on one knee. “Jennifer Christensen, will you marry me?”
I smiled wide and took his hand, drawing him up off the snow-covered walk. “Yes, yes, Shane. I will.”
People broke out in cheers around us. I threw myself into his arms and we kissed. Trent opened the door to the McMurphy and Mal rushed out to pounce on me. Frances held Mella in her arms as she and the others filed out onto the street. We were surrounded by Allie and Trent and Frances and Sandy and Mr. Devaney and Rex and so many other friends. There were hugs and congratulations all around. I took Shane’s hand as we walked into the McMurphy. Indeed it was going to be a truly happy Christmas.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank my editor, Michaela, for helping me take this story from good to great. Special thanks to my agent, Paige, who keeps my career on track. And finally, thanks go out to Tim, who suggested I create a chili-pepper fudge and it turned out so yummy!
Don’t miss the next delightful mystery in
Nancy Coco’s irresistible
Candy-Coated Mystery Series . . .
ALL YOU NEED IS FUDGE
Coming from Kensington in Summer 2016!
Keep reading to enjoy a teaser excerpt
as Allie McMurphy relates another tantalizing
tale of murder and mayhem
on picturesque Mackinac Island....
Chapter 1
I don’t find a dead body every time I take Mal—my bichon-poo puppy—for a walk. Really. In fact, it had only happened once. But finding dead people had begun to be a theme for me since I returned to Mackinac Island to run the Historic McMurphy Hotel and Fudge Shop. It was no surprise to anyone that I had 9-1-1 on speed dial on my cell phone.
“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” I could tell it was Charlene on the phone. She worked long hours. In fact, so many hours I had begun to think she was a workaholic like me.
“Hi, Charlene,” I said as brightly as possible. Water dripped down the side of my face and I wiped it away.
“Allie McMurphy, is that you?” she asked.
“Yes, it’s me,” I replied, and tried to slow my heavy breathing. I was soaked and my muscles shook from the stress of dragging a deadweight up, out of the water, and over the three-foot marina wall.
“Who’s dead now?” Charlene asked. I think she was kidding. I wasn’t.
“I’m not quite sure,” I said as I stared down at the purplish face of the woman I had just pulled from the lake. There was something vaguely familiar about her, but it was hard to tell. People looked different when they were dead.
“But there is a dead person,” Charlene stated. “Seriously?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” I said. “Can you contact Rex?” Officer Rex Manning was my go-to guy whenever I found trouble—which seemed to be often.
“Where are you?”
“I’m at the marina off Main Street, near the coffee shop.”
“No, Allie, it’s yacht race week. A dead body in the marina would be disastrous.”
“Well, I didn’t put it there,” I said, and stifled a shiver. Yacht racing happened a couple times on Mackinac Island. This was the first of the season and people were gearing up for the influx of boaters and boat enthusiasts. In fact, just yesterday I was at the yacht club with my best friend, Jenn
Christensen, helping to coordinate an event.
Jenn was the event planner, not me, but I went along for support—and because I was doing everything I could to gain access into Mackinac Island society. Small business was about community, and I was working hard to become a part of the tight-knit community that was Mackinac Island.
“Rex is on his way,” Charlene said, “along with a crew of first responders. Are you sure the person is dead?”
I noted the pallor of her skin and that her open eyes looked blue. A shiver took me. It was a cool morning. The sun had just started to come up when I had begun the walk; and now that I was soaked through, the wind felt cold against my skin. “I think she’s been dead awhile.”
“Okay,” Charlene said. “I’ll stay with you until Rex gets there.”
“Thanks,” I said, brushing my currently seaweed-like strands of hair out of my face. Mal was having a good time sniffing the girl I’d managed to drag mostly onto the grassy knoll in front of the marina. I hugged my lake-water-soaked, legging-covered knees to my equally soaked shirtdress-covered body. “Mal, come here.” I snagged my dog away from the dead girl and held Mal to me. Her warm little body was a comfort. It was still early. The first ferries had yet to arrive with their boatload of tourists. It was quiet. Some of the maids and groundskeepers had started their walk from the workers’ quarters to the hotels to start their day. The shops would not open for at least another hour and a half.
“Your puppy is with you?” Charlene asked. “Is there anyone else nearby?”
I looked around. “No,” I said. “The marina is pretty quiet. Mal alerted me there was something in the water. As soon as I saw the woman, I jumped in to save her, but it was too late. She really is quite cold and stiff.”
“She’s most likely in rigor,” Charlene said. “I never thought I’d ever say that out loud in my life. But I’ve been brushing up on my dead-body terminology a lot since you moved here.”
I winced at the tone of her voice. “Like I said, Mal found her,” I said, then looked at my puppy. Mal was nearly six months old now and wagged her little stub tail at the sound of her name. “She has a good nose.”
