Oh, Fudge!

by Nancy CoCo

  “You have been watching too many whodunits on television,” Rex said and leaned forward. “To begin with, the autopsy results are still pending. The coroner’s office is backed up. Then, the angle of the weapon thrust depends on the position of the arm at the time of the thrust,” he said. “If it was an overhead thrust, the angle would be different than an underhanded thrust.”

  “But they could still estimate the height and force needed,” I said.

  “Yes, but it will be next year before we could get those results. The county doesn’t have gelatinous test dummies lying around to test angles and force on. Life is not like the movies, kiddo.”

  “Don’t call me kiddo,” I bristled. “I’m a grown woman.”

  “With a vivid imagination,” he said and leaned back. “Look, I know you’re trying to save your cousin from this, but right now she is my best suspect. Until I have concrete evidence otherwise, she will stay my best suspect.”

  I crossed my arms and frowned at him. “But you are going to look into Sean, right?”

  “I’ll look into it,” he said. “But, Allie, even if Sean did take Mrs. Gilmore’s diamond rings, it doesn’t mean he killed Barbara Smart.”

  “I agree,” I said. “But it could mean he did. If he was there, he could have even seen who did it.”

  “What if he points the finger at Victoria?”

  “He won’t,” I said with more confidence than I could muster. “If he did, it would all be circumstantial, right? I mean eyewitnesses are known to make mistakes.”

  “Allie, you’re arguing yourself in circles. Now get out of my office.”

  I frowned at him. “Fine.”

  “Good,” he replied and pointed to the door.

  I walked to it and stopped. “But what if—”

  “Out!”

  I skulked out. He had said it loud enough for everyone in the building to hear. Fine. If Rex wouldn’t listen to me about the suspicious Sean Grady, then maybe Liz would. I headed straight for the newspaper office, which was a block or so past the administration building on Market Street. It was strange not to have Mal with me, but I had left her behind to take a nap in her bed beside Frances. Our journey out to the Grady home wiped her out.

  I pushed open the door to the newspaper and was greeted with a groan.

  “Oh no, here comes trouble, and I left my lucky rabbit’s foot at home.” This was said by Mr. McElroy, Liz’s grandfather and current owner/publisher of the newspaper. He teased me that he needed the rabbit’s foot to feel safe around me since I found so many old people dead.

  “It seems to work from a distance since you are alive and kicking,” I said. “How are you today?”

  “Better if I had my rabbit’s foot,” he grumbled. Mr. McElroy had white hair and a white beard and was a little round in the belly and soft in the jaw from sitting behind a desk his whole life. “What do you want?”

  “Is Liz around?”

  “Why?”

  “I might have a solid lead for her.”

  He studied me from the vantage point of his creaky wooden desk chair. “What kind of lead?”

  “I’m only going to tell Liz,” I said. “Is she around?”

  “Now that seems to be for me to know and you to figure out on your own. Especially if you won’t share leads with me. I’m still a darn fine journalist if you ask me. Might be old, but I can still get around.”

  “Fine,” I said with a roll of my eyes, and leaned on the bar height railing that separated the work space from the public space. “What do you know about Sean Grady?”

  “The cable guy?” Liz asked as she walked in from the back room. At one time they had a printing press in the back that actually printed the papers daily. Now they sent out the work to a printer in Mackinaw City. The hard copy of the paper came out once a week while daily news was written and put up online.

  “Yes,” I said.

  Liz shrugged. “Not much. He was one of the crowd of jocks at school who had more brawn than brains. Why?”

  “I think he may be stealing from people.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Well, someone broke into the shed at the Butterfly House. And then went on to break into the second office. They were looking for something and didn’t find it.”

  Liz grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and started taking notes. “And you think Sean was behind this?”

  “Well, whoever broke into the Butterfly House had a key. Mrs. Gilmore said she is the only one with a key which she keeps in her purse. Her purse is either locked up at the Butterfly House or set near the door of her home—which was also broken into, by the way.”

  “So let me get this straight.” Liz pointed the top of her pen at me. “Someone broke into the Butterfly House looking for something they didn’t find and then burglarized Mrs. Gilmore?”

  “Yes, and there was no evidence of a forced entry at either place.”

  “So we can assume someone has a key to both places.”

  “And Mrs. Gilmore said that Sean was in her home a few days ago fixing her Internet.”

  “You think he took her keys and made copies,” Liz said. “I think that would kind of stand out in Mr. McGregor’s mind.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “So you went to see him?”

  “Yes, I went to see him to see if he knew who might have copied the keys. He told me that Sean Grady copies keys almost weekly because his grandmother—who has dementia—keeps losing the keys.”

  “So Mr. McGregor didn’t think anything was out of the ordinary about Sean making quick copies of keys.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “I took this to Rex, but he says there is no proof, only conjecture, and he has a murder to solve.”

  “You said the Butterfly House was tossed,” Mr. McElroy said. “Did they do the same thing to Mrs. Gilmore’s home?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Oddly her place appeared untouched. The only way we even knew something was stolen was her diamond rings were missing.”

  “This is a good lead, Allie,” Liz said.

  “I told Rex he should cross-check where Sean was working on cable with who might have stuff missing.”

  “You think he’s been doing this a long time?” Mr. McElroy asked.

  “Maybe.” I shrugged. “I thought it might be something for an investigative reporter to look into.”

  “Good choice,” Liz said with a grin. “I’ll do a little legwork on this and see what happens.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I think maybe Barbara saw Sean going through things at the Butterfly House and confronted him.”

  “And he stabbed her?” Liz tapped the pen against her cheek. “That might work. The real question in all of this is what the heck was he looking for at the Butterfly House?”

  “I don’t know. Nothing was missing. He just made a mess of the office and the back shed.”

  “Two places that are rarely connected,” Liz pointed out.

  “Mrs. Gilmore said she had nothing of value at the Butterfly House but the latest shipment of rare chrysalises and those were the only things left untouched.”

  “Why would he leave them?”

  I shrugged again. “Maybe because they were on camera and he didn’t want to get caught.”

  “That would explain it, I guess,” Liz said. “Still, it is a weak argument. My bet is that Sean Grady wasn’t looking for valuables. He was looking for something else.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “That’s the question of the day,” Liz said.

  “Well, whatever it was, if we can prove that Sean was there at the time of the murder, then Rex will have to consider him a person of interest.”

  “It still doesn’t take the suspicion away from your cousin,” Liz said.

  “Maybe not yet,” I replied. “But it does cast reasonable doubt on Tori being the only one to have murdered Barbara.”

  “Two stories to investigate,” Liz said with a grin. “I love a good news day.”

 
I stuck my hands in my back pockets. “Let me know what you find out, okay? I know Tori didn’t do it. I just need help proving it.”

  “Will do,” Liz said.

  My thoughts were all over the place as I left the newspaper office. There had to be something more I could do. It was tough leaving things in other people’s hands. They weren’t as invested in the investigation as I was. Would they really look into a possible connection between Sean and the robberies? Maybe there was something I could do. A thought struck me and I hurried back to the McMurphy.

  Chapter 12

  “We can set up a sting operation,” I said. It was after dinner and my crew was gathered in my living room.

  “That sounds interesting,” Jenn said. “I’m in.”

  “It sounds dangerous,” Frances said. “You should really leave this to Rex.”

  “Rex said he doesn’t have enough evidence to even bring Sean in for questioning.” I sipped my wine. “We can give him that evidence.”

  “How exactly?” Mr. Devaney asked.

  “I ran into Sean today,” I said.

  “You ran into him? How did you know it was him?” Frances asked.

  “Where did you meet him?” Jenn asked.

  “I went to see his grandmother,” I said. “I had to see for myself whether she was bad enough to lose keys weekly.”

  “Was she?” Jenn asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “What I do know is that she isn’t allowed outside the house.”

  “So she wouldn’t have any need for keys,” Frances interpreted.

  “Exactly,” I said. “Plus Sean was pretty upset when he saw me leaving his grandmother’s property. It’s suspicious if you ask me.”

  “Maybe he’s protective of his grandmother,” Mr. Devaney said. “If she has dementia, then anyone can come to the door and scam her.”

  “Oh,” I said, deflated. “I guess that makes sense.” I pursed my lips in thought. “Still, I don’t want to just give him the benefit of the doubt. “

  “What do you have in mind?” Jenn asked.

  “Do you know how room 205 has an issue with the cable? I was thinking we could hire Sean to come in and work on the cable. I would ‘Trust’”—I made air quotes—“him with the master key. Then see if he goes outside to check the line.”

  “And makes a copy?” Jenn asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How will you know he did?”

  “Mr. Devaney can stake out the hardware store, and if Sean makes a copy of a key, confiscate it. Bring it back here and test it to see if it is a copy of the master key. Then we will have proof.”

  “Sounds dangerous,” Frances said. “I’m not sure if I like it.”

  “Mr. Devaney”—I looked at him—“would you be willing to do it?”

  He scowled at me. “What if he doesn’t leave the McMurphy? Am I supposed to hang around McGregor’s Hardware all morning?”

  “We can have Frances text you if he finishes without leaving,” Jenn suggested.

  “Really, you only have to ask him for the key he just copied, bring it back here, and compare it to the master.”

  “If he just copied it, then he’d have the master key on him.”

  “Right,” I said. “You can compare it there.”

  “But there wouldn’t be any proof it was the McMurphy master key,” Jenn pointed out.

  “I’ll paint a bit of red nail polish on the end of the key.”

  “Then if you see him copying the red marked key you can ask Mr. McGregor for the keys, and when they match you can call Rex.”

  “Maybe we should call Rex and have him waiting at the hardware store,” Frances suggested.

  “No,” I said. “That would tip Sean off. I mean, I doubt he would be so bold as to copy a key in front of a police officer.”

  “You never know,” Frances said.

  “Ugh,” I said and tugged at my hair. “Why is everything so complicated?”

  “I’ll do it,” Mr. Devaney said. “If it will make you feel better to know for sure if this guy is copying keys and breaking and entering, then I’ll do it.”

  “Yes!” I said and nearly bounced out of my chair. “Thank you!” I hugged him. He went stiff under my enthusiasm. Mr. Devaney was a curmudgeon and not much for displays of affection unless it came to Frances. She, of course, had stolen his heart.

  “Now that that’s cleared up,” Jenn said and turned to Frances, “have you picked a date for the wedding?”

  Frances blushed. “No.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “Because I want to get married tomorrow if possible and she wants to have a ceremony,” Mr. Devaney said gently.

  “I need time to plan a nice little party and Douglas doesn’t want to wait,” Frances said.

  “Well, we can do both,” Jenn said.

  “We can?” Frances turned to her. “I heard you have to book your venue six months in advance at least.”

  “Not if you have an outdoor wedding,” Jenn said. “We could have a pretty trestle set up and folding chairs with flowers on each row and candles if you want it at sunset. It would be awesome.”

  “Can we do it this week?” Mr. Devaney asked.

  “Douglas!”

  “Yes,” Jenn said. “I’ve planned a few weddings on the island. I have an in with many of the vendors. All you need to do is pick a date.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Sunday,” They spoke at the same time.

  “It’s Wednesday,” I said. “Can we pull off a wedding in less than four days?”

  “Yes!” Jenn said with pride. “Mr. Devaney, can you wait a few days?”

  He looked at Frances who had a hopeful expression on her face. “Yes,” he said. “I can wait a few days if it makes Frances happy.” He looked at us and frowned. “Keep it small. I don’t have any family or friends I need to have there. Frances?”

  “My family is right here except, of course, Maggs, my best friend, my cousin, the lawyer and his family, and then there are my friends from the senior center, and the girls will want to bring dates.”

  “I said small,” Mr. Devaney grumbled.

  “Now I’m sure you want to declare your love for Frances to the entire world,” Jenn pointed out. “So a few close friends and relatives aren’t going to make it too big. Right?”

  “Douglas?” Frances looked at him and he crumbled.

  “Whatever you want as long as I get my Sunday wedding.”

  “Yay!” Jenn clapped her hands. She got up and pulled Frances into the kitchen where she pulled a pen and paper out of the junk drawer. “Now let’s list who all you want to invite. Do you have a dress? Oh, Allie, we have to go dress shopping.”

  “I’m in,” I said and grinned at Mr. Devaney. “Do you have a suit?”

  “I have a gray suit.”

  “There you have it,” Jenn said. “One of the colors will be gray. Now, speaking of colors, what colors will you want your bridesmaids to wear? You will have bridesmaids, right?”

  “We should call Maggs,” Frances said. “She wants to be invited and she will be my maid of honor. You girls can be bridesmaids if that’s okay?”

  “Okay? Sounds perfect!” Jenn said.

  I had to smile. Nothing brought out the leader in Jenn like a good wedding to plan. Meanwhile I had a sting operation to plan. It was pretty simple: get Sean to come do the cable work and see if he takes the bait. What could possibly go wrong?

  * * *

  The next morning after the first fudge making demonstration, Victoria came barreling into the McMurphy. “What is this I hear that you suspect Sean Grady of murdering Barbara?”

  “Sheesh,” I said and took her arm, pulling her over to Frances. “Keep it down.”

  “Why should I whisper?” Tori asked. “Liz is writing an exposé about it.”

  “We don’t have anything concrete,” I said. “So we are pulling off a sting operation.”

  “A what?”

  “I called Sean earlier. He’l
l be here at one this afternoon to fix the cable.”

  “We’re going to give him a master key,” Frances said low.

  “You think he’ll take it?” Tori asked. Today she wore blue shorts and a blue and white striped shirt that buttoned down the middle. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail. She looked like Malibu Barbie.

  “We hope so,” I said.

  “How will you know if he copies it?”

  “We’ll have someone at McGregor’s to watch for him and then confront him.”

  “Oh, this is bad.” Tori shook her head. “I hope you aren’t doing this in some silly way of trying to save me.”

  “What do you mean ‘silly’?” Talk about insult.

  “I mean you don’t need to defend me. I can take care of myself.” She put her hands on her hips.

  “Really? Because not thinking clearly in an emergency is what got you into this mess in the first place.”

  “Don’t get me started on not thinking clearly,” Tori said. Her eyes flashed with emotion. “What are you going to do if someone gets hurt in this little sting of yours? Hmm? Does your insurance cover that? You’d better not get sued and lose the McMurphy.”

  “This sting is not going to cause me to lose the McMurphy. Don’t worry. You’ll get your percent of the inheritance.”

  “What sting?” Sean Grady asked as he walked in.

  I glanced at my watch. “You’re early.”

  “Yeah, I figured I had the time right now so I came on over. It’s okay, right? I mean usually people are happy when I come early.”

  “I’m okay with you being early,” I said and sent my cousin a sharp look. “Let me get you the master key and show you the room that is having a problem.”

  “Sure, but you said something about a sting and she said it could cost you money. Do you have a wasp problem? Are there bees in the walls? Because those are things I need to know before I go messing around with the cable.”

  “No, we don’t have wasps or bees. Everything is fine. My cousin is just overprotective.”