Oh, Fudge!

by Nancy CoCo

  “Okay,” he said and adjusted his tool belt. “I have some wasp spray in my kit if you need it.”

  “I won’t be needing it.” I grabbed the master key from the wall behind the receptionist desk. “Frances, can you let Mr. Devaney know I need that errand done now.”

  “Sure,” Frances said.

  “Good,” I replied. “It’s room 205,” I told Sean. “Come right this way.”

  He lifted the box of wire and gadgets he had in his hand. “After you.” He waved toward the stairs.

  I walked up with him and glanced over my shoulder to see Frances on the phone to Mr. Devaney and Victoria giving me the stink eye. I smiled at her and took Sean to the room. “Now this is the master key,” I said and opened the door. “I’ll leave it with you so that you can get into any closets or other rooms that you might need to check.”

  “Cool.” He took the key, pocketed it, and went over to the television set on the top of the chest of drawers. “What exactly is the problem?” He turned on the TV.

  “The cable is fuzzy and comes and goes. It’s most likely just the wire itself.”

  The television reception was indeed wacky. I figured if nothing else I would get the cable in the room repaired. Tori could stick that in her pipe and smoke it.

  “I see.”

  “Well, I’ll let you get to it. Got to go upstairs and do some paperwork. A hotel owner’s job is never done.”

  “Okay.” He had his back to me and was flipping through the channels.

  “Just leave the key with Frances when you’re done.”

  “Got it,” he said. “Wait, who’s Frances?”

  “She’s the older lady at the receptionist desk.”

  “Cool.”

  I walked out and crossed my fingers. With any luck, he’ll take the bait and try to make a copy of the key.

  Fig Fudge Balls

  Ingredients

  1½ cups cashews

  2 cups figs with stems removed

  3 tbsp. shredded coconut

  1 tsp. vanilla

  1 tbsp. honey

  4 tbsp. cocoa powder

  1 tsp. coarse sea salt

  Directions

  Mix figs and cashews in food processor on high until you get a paste. Add remaining ingredients and process on high until well mixed. Taste for salt—you may add more or less to taste. Once well mixed, roll into small balls. Top with a sprinkle of coarse sea salt. Enjoy!

  Chapter 13

  I paced impatiently in my office as I waited for Sean to take the bait. So far, nothing. “If it’s not him, it’s not him,” I muttered. “No harm done. Cable fixed and all will continue as before.” I hated the sneaky feeling that Victoria might be right. That this little sting might prove to be a bad idea.

  The phone rang and I jumped. “McMurphy Hotel and Fudge Shop,” I said. “Allie speaking. How can I help you?”

  “Hi. Yes, this is Patricia down at the bridal shop. Your friend Jenn booked you an emergency appointment to get fitted for a bridesmaid dress.”

  “Oh right,” I said and glanced at my watch. “What time was that again?”

  “Right now,” she said. “If you can’t make it, I have another opening next week.”

  “No, no.” I chewed my bottom lip. “I’ll be there. I need the dress for Sunday.”

  “All right. I can wait another few minutes.”

  “Thanks!” I hung up the phone and hesitated for a second. The sting would go on without me. But it didn’t make it any easier to leave the McMurphy. I grabbed my purse and keys and hurried down the stairs.

  “Where are you off to?” Frances asked. She looked surprised.

  “I’ve got that appointment to get fitted for the bridesmaid dress,” I said. “You and Mr. Devaney have this covered, right?”

  “I suppose so,” she said. “Shouldn’t you go up and let him know you’re leaving?”

  “Another good idea,” I replied and backtracked back up the stairs and into room 205. The room was in a state of disarray as Sean had pulled the chest of drawers away from the wall and was currently on his knees shining a flashlight into the hole in the wall where the cable used to be. “Sean.”

  “Yeah.” He glanced up at me.

  “I have to go. Frances will help you if you have any questions.”

  “Cool,” he said. “By the way, I don’t see anything with a stinger nearby. You can tell your cousin that she doesn’t have to worry about losing the McMurphy.”

  “Oh, thanks.”

  “Also, this wiring is old. I’m going to have to go out and check the line from the box outside. No extra charge, of course.”

  “Okay, sure,” I said, pretending that my heart wasn’t trying to beat its way out of my chest. Was the sting actually working? “Like I said, take any questions to Frances. She can also sign for the bill.”

  “Cool,” he said and went back to work.

  I hurried down the stairs. Frances gave me a questioning gaze. I shrugged. “He wants to check the outside line.”

  “Got it,” she said. “Have fun with the dress!”

  I sent her a salute and headed outside. Within minutes I was at the dress shop on Main Street across from the hardware store. Oh, best timing ever, I thought. Inside, Jenn was waiting along with a sour-faced salesgirl.

  “You’re really late.”

  “Sorry,” I said and put down my purse on the nearest striped comfy chair. The whole place was an explosion of pink and white and smelled like the inside of a flower bouquet. Soft music played overhead. “The cable guy arrived early.” I sent Jenn a look and her eyes grew wide.

  “Oh, that’s happening now?”

  “He told me he needed to check the outside line,” I said and glanced over to the window.

  “Come on, no dawdling,” the salesgirl said. “Let’s get you into the dress.”

  “I’ll watch the window for you,” Jenn reassured me.

  I let the salesgirl whose name tag said BRITTANY drag me into a fitting room where a pale blue, midi-length dress awaited. I stripped out of my clothes and pulled the spaghetti-strap dress over my head. It fit like a glove. I whirled in front of the mirror for a moment. The hem of the chiffon lifted and played around my calves.

  “How’s the fit?” the salesgirl asked. She poked her head in. “Oh, it looks great.” For the first time her face lit up in a smile. She pulled me out to the three-way mirror.

  “Oh, you look gorgeous!” Jenn said and stood beside me, her expression filled with joy. “I do know how to pick a dress, don’t I?”

  I was a bit embarrassed by all the attention. “Yes,” I said. “It’s perfect.” I did a little twirl to show off the floaty skirt. “It’s going to be pretty outside.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Jenn said.

  “What color is your dress?” I asked Jenn,

  “A pale lavender,” the salesgirl said and smiled at me. “It’s going to look so good in pictures.”

  I noticed the window in the mirror. Crowds of fudgies wandered by. “Any sighting of you know who?” I asked.

  “No.” Jenn frowned. “He must have gone out the back.”

  “I’ll call Mr. Devaney and see if there’s been a sighting.”

  “No, don’t do it. A ringing phone will bring attention to Mr. Devaney,” Jenn pointed out. “We need to wait now.”

  Just then Sean walked down the street with his box of tools. I looked from him to Jenn and back. “Why would he take his tools?” I rushed out of the dress shop to see what direction he was going. Sean walked in the opposite direction of the hardware store.

  “Miss, miss!” The salesgirl took me by the arm. “You have to pay for the dress.”

  “Right,” I said. Disappointment filled my chest. I let her bring me back into the shop. Ten minutes later, I was back in my usual black slacks and white polo. The dress was neatly hung and zippered into a garment bag.

  “He didn’t go into the hardware store,” Jenn said.

  “Is there anywhere else to
get a key copied?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, darn it. He didn’t take the bait.” We walked down the alley and into the McMurphy.

  “How’s your dress?” Frances asked.

  “It fits like a glove,” Jenn said.

  “Did Sean leave for good?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Frances said. “He left a bill and said we shouldn’t have any more trouble.”

  “But he never went into the hardware store,” I said. “We would have seen him.”

  “He didn’t take the bait,” Frances said.

  “I guess not. Maybe he figured out that it was a trap,” I said. “He did hear us mention sting, but I thought I deflected it well.”

  “I’ll call Douglas back and let him know it didn’t work.”

  I sighed and leaned against the receptionist’s desk. “I could have sworn he was the one.”

  “This doesn’t prove he isn’t,” Jenn said and took the dress from me. “All it proves is that he didn’t copy your key.”

  “That we know,” I said. “He could still have made an impression or taken a photo for 3D printing.”

  “Now you are reaching,” Frances said with a tsk of her tongue. “It’s time for a fudge demonstration. We’ll worry about solving the murder later.”

  “By the way,” I said. “What was it Tori wanted earlier?”

  “She came to see if Sandy would do chocolate sculptures for the Butterfly House fund-raiser’s formal event.”

  “Oh well, good for Sandy to get more business.”

  “I offered the McMurphy as a sponsor,” Frances said. “She liked the idea.”

  “What do we have to do to sponsor the event?”

  “Pay a thousand dollars,” Frances said and I gulped. “But you get two free tickets to the formal affair and access to all the people coming in. Besides, if they are going to fill the McMurphy with the group then we need to pay it forward.”

  “Right,” I said. “How is that going? Were you able to rearrange the reservations so that we can have those days for the fund-raiser?”

  Mella took that moment to leap up on the bar-height desk and come over to be petted. Frances stroked her absently and the cat rubbed her face on Frances’s flowered blouse.

  “Lucky for us, it’s after Labor Day,” Frances said. “We had two regulars who come in then, but when I mentioned the fund-raiser, they called Sandy and signed up.”

  “So they keep their spots in the McMurphy.”

  “Yes,” Frances said.

  “Brilliant.”

  “I agree.” She smiled.

  I grabbed an apron to start the fudge for the next demonstration. So the sting failed. We still had no proof that Sean Grady was copying keys and stealing. My thoughts ran rampant as I searched for a clue to help Victoria. What was I missing? If Sean wasn’t the one to take the keys, then who was?

  I decided that after the fudge demonstration I would go see Blake Gilmore again. Maybe there was someone else who had access to her keys.

  * * *

  I knocked on Blake Gilmore’s door with a basket of homemade chocolate chip cookies in my hand.

  “I’ll be right there,” I heard Blake call from behind her door. The front window curtains moved as she peered out to see who it was. Then she opened the door. “Allie, what a surprise. What brings you here?”

  “I made you some cookies,” I said. “I wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay.”

  “Come on in,” she said and closed and locked the door behind me. “Goodness, I’ve been a little on the nervous side since the burglary. It feels like such a violation. I lost my trust in the island.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said and handed her the cookies. “Was anything else taken?”

  “Please sit and I’ll make us some tea.”

  “So there was more.”

  “I hate to think about it,” she said and left to make tea. While she was gone I went over to the foyer and noticed she no longer kept her purse on the hall tree. I frowned. Who would do such a thing? The door looked untouched.

  “I changed the locks,” she said as she came out of the kitchen carrying a tray with a tea set on it.

  “I see you don’t keep your purse here anymore.” I followed her into the living room and sat in a floral-print covered chair.

  “Lesson learned,” she replied and poured the tea. “Cream, sugar?”

  “Just cream.”

  “To answer your earlier question, they also took my good silver and the money out of the small box I kept in my underwear drawer for emergencies.” She handed me a cup and saucer.

  I picked up a spoon and stirred. “The loss must be devastating,” I said.

  “I can’t stand to think that a stranger went through my drawers. I threw everything out and ordered all new.”

  “I can understand that reaction,” I said. “Did the police dust for fingerprints?”

  “They did. What a mess that was. That Shane boy—the one with the glasses—he told me the best way to clean it was with vinegar and water.” She sipped her cup. “It took me all night last night.”

  “I certainly hope they catch the thief.”

  “I had to change the locks on the Butterfly House. I simply don’t know what they were looking for there to make such a mess of things. Why, they even poked around inside Insect World. I hadn’t noticed before, but some of the displays were slightly off center. It’s as if they were looking behind the hanging cases filled with insects on display.”

  “Oh no,” I said. “That means they were even more likely to have been in the greenhouse area where Barbara was killed. She might have discovered them.”

  “Well, that’s an interesting theory,” Blake said. “But I thought Victoria was a serious person of interest. Whoever took my key was looking for something and could have been gone a long time before I let Barbara into the Butterfly House.”

  “Right,” I said. “Do you have any idea what they might have been looking for?”

  “No idea whatsoever. Really, the only valuable things in the Butterfly House are the butterflies themselves. Everyone on the island knows that.”

  “So there would be no real reason for Sean Grady to copy your keys,” I said.

  She seemed startled by that idea. “I hadn’t thought of that. Do you think it was done by someone outside the island?”

  “How would they get access to your keys?”

  “That is the question of the day,” she said and sipped her tea. She picked up a cookie and bit into it and talked as she chewed. “These are good.” She swallowed. “As I told Officer Manning, Sean is the only one who came inside my home last week. Except for my mahjong ladies, of course.”

  “Your mahjong ladies?”

  “Yes, Irene Hammerstein, Wanda Sikes, Paula Abbot, and I meet to play mahjong. They wouldn’t take my keys,” she said. “Why would they? If they want anything, all they had to do was ask me. We’ve known each other for years.”

  “How often do you see them?”

  “Oh, once a week,” she replied. “We meet on Mondays.”

  “Do you mind if I talk to your friends?”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “To see if they remember anything or anyone who might have needed your keys or might have hidden something in the Butterfly House.”

  “You think someone might have hidden something in the Butterfly House and the killer or thief knows about it?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” I said.

  “Well, you can certainly talk to the ladies, but I’m sure they don’t know any more than I do about what is what.”

  “What about the girls who work at the Butterfly House?” I asked. “You know besides Emma?”

  “My assistants? You can certainly talk to them if you wish, but I already spoke to them and so did Officer Manning. They were as appalled as I was about the rummaging at the Butterfly House. They don’t have any idea who would trash the House or what they would be looking for.�
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  “Can I have their names?”

  “Catlin Jones, Ashley Hicks, and Holly Johnson.” She finished her cookie and picked the crumbs off her shirt front. “Holly is out on vacation this week, but Catlin and Ashley are around. In fact, they will be in tomorrow to help me restore the Butterfly House to visitor-ready status. The new African chrysalises have hatched. We expect visitors to come out to see them.”

  “What time do they come in in the mornings?”

  “They come in at nine AM. We open at ten so we have an hour to finish cleaning up and release the new butterflies.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can get away,” I said and stood. “Thank you for the tea.”

  “Thank you for the cookies,” she said and walked me out. “Don’t bring the dog,” she warned me. “I don’t want her to snap at the butterflies.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But she doesn’t snap.”

  “They are thousand-dollar butterflies,” she said and opened the door.

  “I’ll be sure to leave Mal at home.”

  “Thank you. See you later.”

  I left and took the street beside the Butterfly House then cut in front of it. It was still closed but a big sign said they would be reopening tomorrow. I wondered if the people would flock there to see the new butterflies or catch a glimpse of where Barbara Smart was murdered.

  Chapter 14

  I called Irene Hammerstein first. “Hi, Irene, this is Allie McMurphy. How are you today?”

  “I’m well. What do you need, young lady?”

  “I understand that you play mahjong with Blake Gilmore once a week.”

  “Why, yes, we do every Monday. Why? Are you wanting to join a group? Because ours is very competitive. We play for quarters of course, but the members who play with us expect a certain level of expertise.”

  “Oh no, I don’t know how to play. I was wondering if you heard about Blake’s burglary?”

  “Honey, everyone’s heard about poor Blake’s break-in. I suppose it wasn’t really a break-in if nothing was broken, but you know what I mean. Her poor rings, good silver, and the money. I’ve started locking my place up tight whenever I go out now. Such a shame we have to do that. It’s not like the old days, you know.”