Oh, Fudge!
Page 14
So I popped in a kickboxing video, put on my gloves, and spent the next forty minutes air punching Trent’s face.
* * *
“I can’t believe he kissed her,” Frances said. “He seems like such a genuine guy.”
I made a face. “How do I know that all these business trips of his aren’t him dating some woman in Chicago or Detroit?”
“I don’t think so,” Frances said. “He doesn’t have a history of running around like that.”
I was in the fudge shop making the last batch of fudges for the day. Trent was long gone. Frances said he left after twenty minutes. Good. I figured he didn’t have much time to waste. Tears welled up in my eyes and I dashed them away. I was pathetic. I should have known he was losing interest. A few weeks ago he shut me out of an investigation involving his sister. He swore things were different now, but after today I wasn’t so sure.
“Well, at least I don’t have to worry about trying to save Tori anymore. As far as I’m concerned, she can save herself. And if she believes for one moment I’m going to go through with giving her a share in the McMurphy, she has another think coming.”
“Allie, I just heard about what happened with Trent,” Jenn came rushing in. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay,” I said. “Would you be?”
“No. If I caught someone kissing Shane, I would have to punch them in the nose.”
“I restrained myself,” I said, “but only because I had Mal with me and she didn’t need to see me get violent.”
The pup perked up at the sound of her name and came over to the glass wall that separated the kitchen from the rest of the lobby.
“Perhaps you should have heard him out,” Frances said softly. “It might not have been what you think.”
“What I think is I saw my cousin kiss Trent and Trent kissed her back.”
“Rumor has it they dated in high school,” Jenn said. “I guess you never get over your first love.”
“That’s not helpful,” I said and put my back into stirring the hot sugar cocoa base for the fudge.
“Sorry,” Jenn said. “He should be shot.”
“That’s better,” I said. “Can you grab an apron and help me pour the fudge on the table?”
“Sure.” Jenn put an apron on over her capris and short-sleeve blouse. Then we both put hot pads on our hands and lifted the big copper kettle. We poured the hot fudge onto the marble cooling table. The scent of sweet dark chocolate filled the air. I got a scraper, while Jenn held the kettle, and I scraped out the last bits of fudge. Then I began the process of stirring the fudge with a long-handled spatula.
It was hard work that I needed to distract me from the myriad of emotions that ran through me. Right now I didn’t care if I ever saw my cousin again. I wish I hadn’t given Liz the information for the article to make up for Rex arresting her. After all, it wasn’t my fault. How was I to know that Sean would try to run, that Tori would use the knife to stop him, or that Rex would see it as a threat and arrest Tori?
My head hurt.
Jenn watched me in silence for a moment. “There’s no excuse for what happened.”
“None.”
“Let’s talk about happier things,” Frances suggested.
“Like the wedding.” Jenn perked up. “We have the gown. Magg’s has approved her dress so we have the bridesmaids’ dresses, and Heather confirmed the cake. I’ve sent out handwritten invitations to the fifty people you want there. So far, ten have RSVP’d that they will come.”
“That’s fine,” Frances said and crossed her arms. “I sent out fifty hoping for twenty people to come. If it were up to Douglas, only you girls and Sandy would be there.”
Sandy was busy setting up centerpieces for another wedding right now and had yet to hear the news about Trent and Tori. I wondered what she would say. Sandy was pretty reserved. It seemed she was as calm and unfazed by emotions as any human being could be. It was times like now that I wish I had less Irish in me and more Ottawa. Sandy always seemed to be the calm eye in a storm.
The door to the McMurphy opened and a porter carrying a giant vase of purple hyacinths walked in. Behind him was another porter carrying a box with a clear lid that also held flowers.
“Delivery for Allie McMurphy,” the first porter said.
“I’ll get them,” Jenn said. She signed for the flowers, gave the porters a tip, and put the vase of purple hyacinths on the reception desk and opened the box to show me a bouquet of white orchids. “Oh, this guy knows his flowers.”
“Why?” I asked as I rounded the table. The fudge had started to set up and I switched to a short hand scraper. I poured chopped cherries, raisins, and pecans in the center of the fudge and began the process of hand folding it in.
“Both of these flowers mean ‘I’m sorry,’” Jenn said.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it, bub,” I muttered.
“Can I put the orchids in water?” Jenn asked.
“I don’t care what you do with them,” I said. “I’m not in the mood for flowers.”
The door to the McMurphy opened and Fred Sikes walked in. He stopped and glanced around then made a beeline for the fudge counter. “Ms. McMurphy,” he said and put my casserole dish on top of the glass candy counter.
“Hello, Mr. Sikes,” I said. “How is Wanda doing?”
“She’s fine,” he said, his mouth a straight line. “Listen. I know you have a reputation of solving murders and finding killers and such nonsense, but I want you to stay away from Wanda.”
“What?”
“She is having a tough enough time without you coming by and giving her false hopes. We appreciate the effort with the casserole, but frankly, stay away from my family. Most importantly, keep your nose out of my business.”
“Okay,” I said out of reflex, and I stopped and studied him.
“Do I make myself clear?” he asked. He wore a thousand-dollar Italian suit and looked like something out of GQ.
“Crystal,” I said.
“Good. Good day.” He turned on his heel and walked back out of the McMurphy.
I looked at Jenn and she looked at me.
“What the heck was that all about?” Jenn asked.
“I think he wants me to stay away from Wanda,” I said.
“Clearly, but why?” Jenn asked. “I mean; doesn’t that seem suspicious to you?”
“Yeah,” I said. “It does. Not that it matters, because I’m no longer investigating Barbara’s murder. Tori can look out for herself.”
“Still, that was highly suspicious,” Jenn said and picked up the casserole pan. “Didn’t you say that you thought Mr. Sikes was hiding something?”
“Yes,” I said and cut the fudge into one pound pieces and placed them on a tray.
“Hmm,” Jenn said. “Very interesting.”
I put the tray in the candy display case. “You are not going to investigate him,” I said. “Seriously, I’m done trying to help Victoria. Don’t you start.”
“Oh, I’m not going to start to help Victoria after what she did,” Jenn said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t find Mr. Sikes’s behavior odd.”
“It seems everyone is acting strangely today.”
Victoria walked into the McMurphy.
“Oh no,” I said and pointed to the door. “You need to get out.”
“Allie, I came to apologize. I didn’t know that you were dating Trent.”
“I don’t care what you knew or didn’t know,” I said. “You need to leave.”
“Fine. Look, Trent asked me to come in and explain.”
“You are still seeing him after I discovered you two kissing? Really. Get out now or I’ll have Mr. Devaney throw you out.”
“But, Allie.”
“Out!” The tone of my voice had Mal running for her bed beside Frances and the reception desk. Mella, the cat, stood up from her sleep on the desk, arched her back, and jumped down to get a closer look at what was going on.
“Allie—”
“You’re being unreasonable,” Tori said from the bottom of the stairs.
I didn’t reply. Instead I went up to the office to work on bills. When I sat down at my desk, I noticed that Jenn had put the orchids in a fluted, clear vase in the center of our two desks. I scowled at the flowers. There was a tiny card in its envelope on my desk. I blew out a long sigh and opened it. I’m flying back to Chicago. The merger goes through today. Please forgive me. The kiss meant nothing. Trent
Right, I thought. And tossed the card in the trash. He didn’t even tell me he was on the island and now he was gone again. He was here long enough to kiss Victoria, though. I put my head in my hands and closed my eyes. Why was I dating a guy who spent so much time away from me?
Maybe, just maybe, I needed to rethink my relationship status.
* * *
Mr. Sikes was in the shipping business. The thought had me sitting up straight. I had fallen asleep at my desk; a small patch of drool on my desktop calendar proved it. I glanced at the clock. It was eight AM. I dialed Blake Gilmore.
“Butterfly House, this is Blake. How can I help you?”
“Hi, Blake, it’s Allie,” I said.
“Hi, Allie, how are you doing? I heard about Trent and Victoria. What a scoundrel. Are you doing okay?”
I cringed, filled with embarrassment over the fact that my love life was common knowledge on the small island. “I’m fine,” I said. “Listen, I have a quick question.”
“Sure. Anything, dear.”
“When did you receive the last shipment of chrysalises? Did you tell me they were from Africa?”
“Oh, I got them in the day before the murder and yes, they are from Africa. They have come out of their shells completely and are now flying around the greenhouse if you want to see them.”
“Oh, I’d love to,” I said. “I’ll be right over.”
“Great, see you soon.”
I got up, washed my face, and combed my hair before I took the back stairs down to the alley. It had cooled considerably outside. Even though the sun didn’t set until after eight PM, I still shivered. I should have brought a jacket with me. I cut through the alley and walked up Main Street past the church and over to the Butterfly House. Blake was working the admissions desk when I arrived.
“Hey, Allie, that was fast.” She came around and gave me a hug. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine,” I said with a brush of my hand. “Blake, can you tell me again how you get the butterflies?”
“Sure. We get around three hundred and fifty chrysalises every week. The day of the shipment we got about fifty, but ten of them were the highly prized ones from Africa. They appear to glow in the dark. It’s really the light reflecting off their tiny green feathers.”
“And you said these butterflies are expensive?”
“Yes, bigger chrysalises can cost upwards three thousand dollars.”
“How do you get them? Can you walk me through the process?”
“Well, they are delivered to us via FedEx. They are carefully wrapped in cotton. So we remove them from the batting and inspect and pin them to these foam rods then put them in emergence cages and display them up front.” She took me through the vinyl slats that hung in each doorway to keep the butterflies from escaping. There was a small room before you got to the greenhouse where one wall was devoted to chrysalises. “This is the emergence box. People get to see the week’s chrysalises and if they are lucky they will see a butterfly emerge.”
“But you didn’t put the special butterflies in here with the others,” I pointed out.
“No, I made them their own emergence box. They are a brand-new breed and highly prized. I put them in here.” She took me out of the second room, to the office that had been trashed. “I set it up under a camera to allow people to live stream it.”
“And it was while they were in here that the room got tossed.”
“Yes.”
“So walk me back through the process. How do they get to you?”
“They are flown in via the FedEx plane and brought over here by the FedEx porters on their bicycles.”
“That doesn’t bounce them around or damage them?”
“Oh no. They are carefully wrapped and specially packaged. Let me show you today’s shipment.” She pulled a box over and, using a box cutter, opened it. Inside, carefully rolled in cotton and protected by extra cardboard pieces and batting, were twenty chrysalises.
“I see,” I said, and carefully examined the cotton. “What do you do with the cotton and cardboard afterward?”
“We generally isolate it in the back shed to ensure we don’t have any stowaway insects in them.”
“Can I see?”
“Sure.” She took me through Insect World and out the back of the greenhouse to the shed. This time it was locked with a heavy paddle lock.
“I see you have an extra measure of protection.”
“We do,” she said and opened the paddle lock. “I felt it was prudent considering. I know they didn’t take anything, but they could have and I thought extra caution was in order.” It was dusk and so she turned on the inside light, which consisted of a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. “We put the packaging inside these sealed trash containers for seventy-two hours to ensure nothing else hatches.”
She went over to three bins with reinforced lids that were held down with metal clamps.
“Why do you go through so much trouble?”
“Well, with insects being shipped from all over the world, we have to be careful not to introduce any non-native varieties to the island. They are sneaky little suckers after all.”
“So that’s it.”
“Yes, pretty simple.”
“I have a question.”
“What, dear?”
“So you think whoever tossed the Butterfly House could have been looking for something that was smuggled in with the rare butterflies?”
She seemed startled by the idea. “Who would smuggle something in, and how?”
“That’s a good question,” I said. “Did you put the latest bit of packaging in the bins?”
“No,” she said and shook her head. “The delivery came later than usual and I had a dinner party. So I was in a bit of a hurry.” She blushed at the thought. “I was careful with the chrysalises, but put the packaging in my tote. I meant to put it in the bins the next morning but, well, Barbara was murdered and things just went crazy.”
“Is it still in your tote?”
She colored a deeper red. “Yes,” she said. “I didn’t dispose of it correctly. I’m certain that there were no stowaway bugs. My tote is zippered so they would be in the tote and not out.”
“It’s not the stowaways that have me worried,” I said. “It’s your safety. Where is the tote?”
“Here, behind the ticket desk.” She walked me back through the greenhouse to the tall ticket desk near the front door. “I didn’t want to take it home in case there was a stowaway.” She pulled out a striped beach tote that was filled to rounded.
“Can we open it?”
“Of course,” she said. “Let’s do it in the staging area in case a stowaway insect emerges.”
We walked into the small room where the customers came between the greenhouse and the front door. This room was blocked off with vinyl strips as well. Once inside, she opened the tote carefully under a fluorescent light to ensure nothing flew out. Once safe she showed me the box and batting the chrysalises came in. I carefully pulled at the batting, feeling my way through it. Sure enough, there was what felt like a small bag of rocks. I pulled the batting away to lift up a bag of what appeared to be diamonds.
“Oh dear.” Blake looked at me. “Do you think those are real?”
“Yes,” I said and got out my cell phone and pressed Contacts, calling Rex.
“Manning,” he said.
“Hi, Rex, it’s Allie. I’
m at the Butterfly House and we have something you need to see.”
“Allie, I told you not to investigate any further.”
“I wasn’t investigating the murder,” I said. “Please come.”
“I’ll be right there.”
I hung up and looked at Blake. “We need to stay right here.”
“Okay,” she said. “Lucky for us, the Butterfly House is closing. Do you think this is what the thief was looking for?”
“I do,” I said. “And I don’t think that thief was Sean Grady.”
“Oh no, you think someone else has a copy of the key to the building?”
“You had the locks changed, right?” I asked, suddenly feeling as if I needed to look over my shoulder.
“Yes,” she said. “Do you think this is the only time they have smuggled something in through us?”
“I have no idea,” I said. “If not, then why search the Butterfly House? Why not extract it in the usual manner? Didn’t you fire someone recently?”
“Dan Jones,” she said. “He worked as a part-time gardener in the greenhouse.”
“Did you tell Rex about Dan?”
“No, I fired Dan two weeks ago. It didn’t seem relevant. Besides, Dan never had access to my keys.”
“How long did he work here?”
“Since May,” she said. “I fired him because he wasn’t doing a good job. He was rather lackadaisical in his work and I counseled him about it, but he didn’t get better. That seems typical for young men these days, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.”
“Was he mad or scared when you fired him?”
“He did seem quite upset. But I figured it was because he lost his job. Do you think he was the one smuggling things in?”
“No,” I said. “If he was young and lackadaisical, as you said, then I imagine he worked for someone with the connections to smuggle things in.”
There was a knock at the door and we both jumped. “That must be Rex,” I said. “Let’s go together so that we have proof that none of the diamonds were taken.”
“Okay,” she said. “Good thinking. I would have just walked out and left you alone with them.”