by CoCo, Nancy
“I agree. The children need access to good health care,” I said. “Please, before you go, make sure you get some food. I know how difficult it is to eat properly when you’re grieving.”
“You’re very kind,” Karen said. She was about my mother’s age but her hair was that perfect champagne blond that wealthy women wore. The tone played off her flawless skin and brown eyes. I realized that Karen Jessop was a beautiful woman. Trent had her eyes and Paige had her sense of style and grace.
“Frances will show you where the most comfortable seats are,” I said. Mal wiggled in my arms. Her nose twitched at Trent. My nose twitched as well. The man wore a tux and it looked breathtaking on him.
I tore myself away from him before I looked too foolish and turned to Paige. “Congratulations on your new hotel plans,” I said. “I understand it is going to be the biggest one on island when it’s finished.”
“Oh, yes.” She gushed. “I had my architect work up plans based on designs from the 1870s. The paint scheme, wallpapers, and flooring are all going to be vintage Victorian.”
“As an event designer I’m curious to see the work that went into it,” Jenn said as she slid up beside me. “Hi, I’m Jennifer Christensen.” She held out her hand to Paige. “I’m working with Allie this summer on all of her events.”
“Nice to meet you,” Paige said. “Allie, I didn’t know you hired a designer.”
“Jenn and I went to school together,” I said. “She has worked with some of the best families in Chicago on their parties. If you ever need a party planner, I’m sure she’d be happy to help.”
“I most certainly would,” Jenn said. “I’m seriously considering starting up an event planning business on island. So if you know of anyone with a wedding or a party they want planned, why, look around. My business cards are on the stand by the door.”
“I will keep that in mind,” Paige said. “Good help is hard to find on island. Most of the staff are young college kids or interns. It would be nice to actually work with a professional wanting to stay on island.”
Jenn turned to Trent. “Jennifer Christensen.” She held out her hand and he shook it. “Is Paige your date?”
I had to work at not rolling my eyes. Jenn knew perfectly well that Paige was his sister.
“Paige is my sister,” Trent said smoothly. “Since my grandfather just died I didn’t feel it was appropriate to bring a date.”
“Oh, dear, yes, of course, my condolences on your loss,” Jenn said. She slid her arm through his and walked him away from me. “So tell me, Mr. Jessop, what do you do for a living?”
“Oh, she’s good,” Paige said as we watched Jenn walk off with Trent.
I laughed. It came out a short bark and made Paige smile. “Yes, she is good. Please feel free to use her services. She’s been known to even plan wakes that people talk about for days on end.”
“I’ll have to remember that,” Paige said. The doorbells jangled and more couples came in and Paige moved on to join her mother at the bar.
I took the next wave and was happy when Frances returned to my side and continued to introduce me.
One of the last people to enter was Emerson Todd. He came alone, wearing an Oxford baggy suit, complete with waistcoat and pocket watch. It glistened with damp. He took off his fedora and brushed the tiny sparkles of water off himself.
“Hello, welcome to the McMurphy,” I said. “I’m Allie, is it raining out?”
“Emerson Todd.” He shook my hand. “It’s just spitting out.”
“Let me take your coat.” Frances held out her hand. “Almost everyone is here. I’m glad you could make it.”
“The pleasure is mine.” He had light brown eyes that were almost tan with a ring of black around the irises. “Wow, you’ve done a lot with the place.”
“Thank you. Have you been in the McMurphy often?”
“My folks used to come for the fudge and on Tuesday nights they would play cards with your grandparents and the Thompsons.”
“Just the three couples?” I tilted my head. “Wouldn’t it take four?”
“You are quite right.” He yanked on his waistcoat. “I forget who else was there. I was, after all, just a child and more interested in the video games.”
“Of course, I’m sorry.” I lifted one corner of my mouth. “I don’t remember who they played cards with. I would come in the summers and it was usually too busy for too many card nights.”
“It’s the trouble with your livelihood relying on tourists,” he said. His tone was matter-of-fact, but while he didn’t seem to purposely insult me, I came away feeling a little bit like trailer trash.
“I understand you sold your family land to build a tourist hotel.” I tilted my head. “A brand-new hotel.”
“In the style of the old.” He nodded and his mouth turned up. “There is very little use for dilapidated buildings and empty grounds. I actually did the island a favor.”
“I’m sure you did. Thank you for coming. The children’s clinic appreciates your help.” I watched the arrogant man walk off. He gave Paige Jessop a nod and went to speak to the Birdwells. Frances had introduced me to Mr. and Mrs. Birdwell, explaining that they lived in Chicago but had ties to the island that went back to the days of the fur trade. It was Mrs. Birdwell who was the head of the historical committee and the one I needed to impress tonight.
So I bit my tongue and held back my dislike of Emerson. If Frances was right and he had lost all of his family money in the real-estate crash, then maybe he really had had no choice but to sell to the Jessops. You never know what truly drives a person—even an arrogant person.
“The place really does look good,” Pete Thompson said. The man stood a hair too close. He wore a suit, waistcoat, and jacket. Cream-colored spats covered his dark shoes. “I know you have an asking price in mind. How much is it? I’ll give you ten percent less.”
I grabbed a cocktail off the tray of the passing waitress. “The McMurphy is not for sale, Pete.”
“Having this party instead of an open house was a great idea. People can see the possibility in the old place.” He sipped his drink. “Don’t waste your time walling off the tunnel, though. When I buy the McMurphy, I’m going to use it to link the two hotels.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “First off, I’m not selling. Secondly, no one will want to go through the mechanical room under the pool.”
“Sally tells me differently. She says the ghost tours will double when I open the tunnel to the public.”
“Please, if it were really such a big moneymaker, then why didn’t your grandfather and my Papa open it up before now?”
He shrugged. “There used to be shame in rum-running. Now it’s ancient history and everyone likes history.”
“I’m not selling, Pete, so get over the notion. The McMurphys are here to stay.”
Chapter 27
“We should take everyone through the tunnel now,” Jenn said as she came up beside me. “The pool area is where most of the food will be served and Russ and Angie are ready to start the mystery portion of tonight’s entertainment.”
The lobby was a bustling mass of costumed people. All of them drinking and eating finger foods. Mal was running around from person to person, waiting for pets or to see if they dropped anything. My tiny white puppy was a real hit with people, but she did look tired from the crowd.
“Come here, Mal.” I snatched her up and put her in her crate behind the receptionist desk. She whined for a moment but then walked around three times and plopped down with a comfortable sigh.
The band played jazz as I picked up a martini glass off the waiter’s tray and clanged it with a silver fork. Jenn waved the band to a stop and the room grew silent. “Good evening, everyone. I want to thank you again for coming out tonight and supporting a good cause. Again, all proceeds from tonight’s event will go to the Mackinac Island Children’s Clinic to provide year-round care for the children who are growing up on this beautiful island.”
> There was a polite round of applause. “Tonight’s theme was inspired by the discovery of a rumrunner’s tunnel in the basement of the McMurphy. And so I’d like to invite you all now to follow me downstairs and through the tunnel. The other side of which ends up in the Oakton pool house where the party will continue with a ‘Play It Again Sam’ mystery production staring Russ Haver and Angie Knight.”
The two actors took their bows. “And now, follow me into the depths of history.” I opened the basement door and the band fell in line playing marching jazz.
The basement had been cleaned and lit with strings of fat white bulbs and beads. The door to the coal bin was removed and the secret lever to the tunnel revealed with many oohs and aahs. The partygoers grew solemn as they entered the tunnel, whispering at the work that had been done to carve it out, right under the alley. The door to the pool mechanical room was left open and the room itself was well lit to the code set down by the insurance company. The stairs to the pool house seemed anticlimactic.
The pool house itself was lit with strings of white fairy lights running along the rafters. White tables laden with a buffet lined the edges of the pool. The band played “When the Saints Go Marching In” as people spilled into the pool house laughing and giggling over the adventure of the rum-runners tunnel.
There was a sudden scream and the band stopped as everyone took note of the water and the old man floating facedown, wearing nothing but boxers covered in red hearts.
A Crow Left of the Murder Fudge
5 cups white chocolate chips
4 tablespoons butter
1 can sweetened condensed milk
2 ounces cranberry juice
2 ounces pineapple juice
2 ounces bourbon (Old Crow) to taste
Butter an 8” × 8” × 2” pan, then line with wax paper or plastic wrap. (I prefer wax paper.)
Using a double boiler fill of the bottom pan with water and heat on medium high until the water is boiling. Then you can turn the heat down to low and in the top section, melt chocolate, sweetened condensed milk, and butter until smooth and thick. Add cranberry juice and pineapple juice—heat and stir until reduced.
Remove from heat. Add bourbon 1 tablespoon at a time (to taste). Mix well. Pour into pan. Cool. Tip: let cool outside of the refrigerator for 30 minutes so that no condensation mars the top. Refrigerate overnight. Remove from pan. Cut into pieces. Store in a covered container.
Chapter 28
“So much for our murder mystery play,” Russ said as he sat dejectedly on one of the pool chairs.
“All that lovely food gone to waste,” Frances said as she looked at the untouched buffet. “Not that I blame anyone. Who could eat knowing a dead man was in the room?”
“They do it all the time at funerals.” Jenn could be so matter-of-fact. “That was twelve-dollars-a-plate service. I’d like to get my hands on that old man.”
“Or whoever pushed him,” I muttered. They all stared at me. “What? There seems to be a rash of old men dying on island. It doesn’t take too big a leap of faith to think he was murdered.”
“People die, dear.” Frances patted my hand. “It’s a fact of life.”
The ambulance came quick. George Marron hurried in, carrying his bag of equipment. A younger man, tall and thin with sandy-brown hair, accompanied him. Both were damp from the rain outside. The wind had picked up and a regular howl was brewing.
When we’d seen the weather we hadn’t worried because everyone would be traveling from the pool house to the McMurphy via the tunnel. Now it merely added a strange atmosphere to the scene.
Two of the bigger men had ripped off their suit coats and hauled the old man out of the water and up onto the gray concrete. CPR was started. In the five minutes it took for the ambulance to arrive, the old man hadn’t budged. His skin was as blue as Joe’s had been. I was beginning to tell a hopeless cause when I saw it.
Officer Brown had arrived on scene first and asked everyone to stay put. Another younger officer fresh on island for the summer season took down people’s names and what they saw. It was all the same story. We came up through the tunnel. No one had been aware of anyone unusual in the tunnel or the mechanical room. No, the pool house was not locked. Yes, the catering staff had been the only ones who were supposed to be on the premises, as the pool house was officially closed to any early guests at the Oakton.
George went to work, took the man’s vitals, tried to shock his heart into action, and when that didn’t work he called the clinic and the man was pronounced dead.
“Do you know who he is?” I asked Frances.
“I didn’t get a good look at his face.” She shrugged. “Hang on, I’ll see what I can find out.”
I had stayed as far from the scene as possible. The last thing I needed was to be associated with another dead man.
“I’ve been told this is your party.” The young officer looked at me warily. “You’re Allie McMurphy?”
“Yes.” I tried not to sigh. “I’m Allie McMurphy and this is my party. It is a benefit for the children’s clinic on island.”
The officer, whose name tag read “Wright,” wrote in his notebook. “And you are a person of interest in the murder of Joe Jessop, is that right?” He looked at me with crystal-blue eyes.
“If, by person of interest, you mean that I found Joe Jessop dead at the McMurphy, then that would be correct.”
“Hi.” Jenn interceded. “I’m Jennifer Christensen. I planned the entire party for Allie.” She walked the officer away from me. “I can get you a list of guests and the publicity plans. That way you’ll know who was involved, although I’m certain this was merely a strange coincidence.”
“The dead man was Theodore Finley,” Frances said.
“Who?”
“Theodore Finley.” Frances pulled me closer to the wall. “He was the town mayor for twelve years back in the early 1980s.”
“Oh, no, please tell me he wasn’t on the guest list.”
“Sorry, he was on the guest list and the historical committee.”
I cringed. “Did he have family at the party? I don’t remember you introducing me to any Finleys.”
“His wife died last year and his daughter is in New York.”
“Good, I’d hate to have had them see him that way.”
Rex came through the pool-house door wearing his uniform covered by a plastic rain poncho. He held the door for the EMTs as they took the body away on a stretcher. The wind howled and the rain blasted the glass walls of the pool house.
Rex consulted with Officer Brown and Officer Wright, then turned to the waiting partygoers. “You’ll be allowed to leave, but the weather is not conducive to walking from the pool house to Main Street. We’re going to walk you through the tunnel in groups of four. That way you can pick up your things at the McMurphy and head home. Taxis have been contacted and are currently lined up on the street.”
I went straight to Rex. “Do you want me to stay here or to go to the McMurphy first?”
“I would prefer you were at the McMurphy,” he said. “Is there someone who can stay at the pool house while we walk people through the tunnel?”
“I’ll stay,” Mr. Devaney volunteered.
“I’ll stay with him as well,” Frances said. “That way you have two witnesses.”
“All right.” Rex nodded, his mouth a firm line and his gaze flat. “I’m going to lock the pool-house door and I want you to make sure it stays locked.”
“Done.” Mr. Devaney took Frances by the arm. “Come on, let’s get you a seat near the door.”
“What’s going on?” I asked Rex. “This makes two dead men since Papa died.”
“If I were a conspiracy theorist, I’d be worried about that,” Rex said as he opened the door to the mechanical room. “But I’m a realist. The only murder is Joe. There is no evidence of murder in this case.”
I frowned. “I don’t know, this looks pretty suspicious to me.”
Chapter 29
&
nbsp; “Nothing like death to put a damper on the night, no pun intended,” Frances said.
“At least this time someone had the sense to scream at the sight of a dead body.” I rubbed my bare arms. The band packed up and the last of the guests had been escorted through the tunnel and out to waiting cabs.
“What are you going to do with all that food?”
“I had Jenn contact the soup kitchen in St. Ignace. They are more than willing to take it and will have two guys here in the morning to pick it up. In the meantime, we’re putting it in the fudge shop refrigerators.”
“Noble of you.” Trent Jessop walked into the lobby. He wore a dark raincoat over his suit.
“I wouldn’t say noble.” I studied him. “I’d say practical.”
“It’s sure to get you in good with the locals.”
“Have you come back to bait me?” I could not believe the nerve of the guy. Really, he had been part of the first group to leave. Don’t get me wrong, I get it. He had just lost his grandfather in the McMurphy. The last thing he would want is to subject his family to more mayhem.
“I came back because I’m worried.” He shook off his coat. “Too many good men are dying around you.”
“And you came to keep an eye on me?” I put my hands on my hips. “Because I really think you should go home and keep an eye on your family. Let me worry about me and mine.”
“I came back because I know that Rex and Charles need some help. And because I don’t like the idea of a couple of women staying alone in a building where two men were murdered.” He put his hands on his hips and stood toe-to-toe with me.
Darn, the man did look good in a suit. “I’m a grown woman and I’m perfectly capable of handling myself in my own home.”
“I’m sure you are,” he said, his tone low. “But this is not your home, not yet. And you may be full grown, but so were my grandfather and Mr. Finley. If this turns out to be a serial killer, I don’t like the fact that you are living in the killer’s hunting grounds.”
