Forever Fudge

by Nancy CoCo

  “I’m still surprised your father put Paige in charge of the island businesses. They all seem a little rough. What with the bars, the stables, the mulch and landscaping.”

  “Paige lives for the local flair,” he said, and put his arm through mine as we walked back to the McMurphy. “So what are you doing for dinner tonight?”

  I stopped and pulled my arm out of his. “Trent, we broke up. Remember? There’s a little problem of you living and working in Chicago. I told you I don’t want to be second to your career.”

  “Oh, come on, Allie. I promised I’d see you more often. There are many people who make long distance work. You have to want to make it work.”

  “See, that’s where I’m not so sure. I mean, what if I don’t want to make it work?”

  “Seriously?” He ran his hand through his hair. “How can you say that? After all we’ve been through.”

  “That’s just it,” I said. “We’ve been through a lot for only a few months. Maybe that’s not such a good thing.”

  “Allie, love,” Dirk called from the block in front of us. He walked up and picked me up and twirled me. “You look amazing.” He put me down and looked at Trent and stuck out his hand. “Hey,” he said. “We met?”

  “Trent Jessop,” Trent said, and studied us. “We met last night.”

  Dirk pulled his hand back when Trent didn’t take it. “Right. Dude, you were at Allie’s apartment. It’s okay. Allie and I are friends. Aren’t we?” Dirk put his arm around me and gave it a squeeze.

  “We are,” I said, and turned to Trent. “Dirk is here to film the television pilot. The one that Paige won the right for filming background shots.”

  “Allie is helping me learn more about solving murders.” He grinned. “We had a great dinner date last night.” He pulled out a tabloid from his back pocket. “Got some great publicity from it.” He opened the rag and there was a picture of him helping me into the open carriage. My skirt had slipped a tad too high. I was smiling from the warmth of one too many glasses of wine. The headline said, HOLLYWOOD HUNK FINDS NEW GIRL ON SMALL BACKWOODS ISLAND.

  “What?” I grabbed the paper. “They make me sound like a good-time honey.”

  Trent pulled the paper out of my hands and scanned the photo. “Right. It doesn’t look like you are just friends.”

  “It’s Jenn’s dress,” I said. “I told her I shouldn’t wear it.”

  “She looked amazing in it,” Dirk said, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It’s my fault. I told her to wear something great. They take pictures wherever I am.” He glanced around and we noted that people were taking pictures of the three of us.

  “I think we should go inside,” I said, and put my arms through each man’s and walked them both back to the alley behind the McMurphy. We didn’t say a thing until we were safely inside.

  “Wow, that was crazy,” Dirk said, and pulled away. “What’s up, are you like Allie’s boyfriend or something? If so, I’m so sorry, dude. I thought that Rex was the one.”

  “Rex Manning? How do you know Rex?” Trent asked, and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Dirk had been shadowing Rex to develop the police chief character in the pilot,” I said.

  “Yeah, he’s let me watch him investigate the murder.”

  “Murder?”

  “She found a body in the alleyway,” Dirk said. “The killer seems to be leaving clues just for her.”

  “What? Allie? Are you okay?”

  “There have been a few problems, but nothing I haven’t handled,” I said.

  “Did you get the blood cleaned up?” Dirk asked.

  “Blood?” Trent glared at me.

  “Someone pranked my guests by hanging a headless chicken in their window. It was a bloody mess, but no one was hurt.”

  “What window? How did they get to it?”

  “The police came and checked it out,” I said. “I’m getting corner cameras.”

  “I’ll have an alarm company come in tomorrow,” Trent said.

  “You will do no such thing.” It was my turn to cross my arms over my chest. “The McMurphy is my business not yours. I will take care of it.”

  “I know a good business in Mackinaw City,” Trent said. “I have friends in the area.”

  “I can use Yelp just like anyone else in the area,” I said. “I don’t need you to take over.” I was so angry that I walked off. I swear if I stayed next to him I was going to lose my cool. How dare he think he could do better at caring for my business than me.

  “Allie, stop,” he said, grabbing my arm.

  “No,” I said. “Please just go.”

  “Dude, I’d back off if I was you,” Dirk said.

  “Yes, well, you aren’t me,” Trent said. “So stay out of it.”

  “I think you need to take your own advice,” I said, and took Dirk’s hand. “Come on, Dirk. Let me show you around the McMurphy.” I pulled him up the stairs.

  The front door to the McMurphy opened and the bells jangled.

  “Hey, Trent,” I heard Jenn say. “How long are you staying on the island?”

  “Not for long,” Trent said and he stormed out the door.

  Dirk and I stopped on the landing. “Dude was upset,” Dirk said. “Is he really your boyfriend?”

  “He was my boyfriend,” I said with a sigh. “We broke up. Well, he broke us up and then I broke us up.”

  “Sounds complicated.”

  “More than I could ever say,” I said.

  “Hi, Dirk,” Jenn said. “What brings you to the McMurphy?”

  “Dirk, this is my friend and assistant manager, Jenn. Remember?”

  “Sure, how could I forget a woman as beautiful as you?” Dirk said.

  Jenn blushed. “Thanks. Where are you two headed?”

  “Allie was going to give me a tour of the McMurphy.”

  I winced. “I was angry at Trent and wanted to get away.”

  “I’ll be happy to give you the tour,” Jenn said, and hurried up the stairs to the landing. “I know Allie has some rooms to clean.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “Yes, I do have some rooms to clean. Do you mind, Dirk?”

  “Not at all,” he said, and pulled Jenn’s arm through his. “Lead on, lovely lady.”

  “Great, how about we work our way from the top down?” Jenn said. I watched her take him up the stairs.

  “No fair showing him the apartment,” I said. “I haven’t had time to tidy it up.”

  “I’ll start with the office,” Jenn shouted down the stairs.

  “Right,” I said to myself. Mella came up the stairs and wound her way around my legs. I bent and picked her up. “Well, my Mella,” I said. “Are you still glad you picked the McMurphy as your forever home? Things are pretty crazy here.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to the front lobby. Trent may never speak to me again. I wasn’t sure that was what I wanted. At this point I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but I knew one thing: Dirk Benjamin was not on my boyfriend list. I thought back to the photo in the tabloid. He used me to get on the front page of the paper. I’d be mad at him if he hadn’t been completely up front about it. If I was going to be mad at anyone about the picture, it would have to be myself. He’d told me what would happen. I’d gone to dinner anyway. Maybe I really did want to be noticed.

  Chapter 15

  The rest of Saturday passed quickly. Most of the rooms were empty. That meant that I did a deep cleaning on them, taking special note of necessary repairs. Sandy’s cousin came in and did his magic to the stains in room 216. I don’t know when Dirk left, but I figured Jenn took good care of him. She seemed taken by his movie star good looks.

  I called a security company. The service would be pricey, but necessary. I talked to them about installing electronic door keys. The total dug into the money I had set aside for my roof improvements. But I wouldn’t have any roof parties if I didn’t have any guests. Right now, ensuring my guests were safe was number one on my list.

 
Mal got up from her cuddle bed in the office and jumped up on my lap. It was a sure sign she needed a good walk. I shut down my computer and went downstairs. She ran ahead of me and did circles on the landing. “You are so impatient. Let me get down the stairs.” I hit the lobby and noted that it was empty. Jenn must have gone off to spend time with Shane. I grabbed my phone and texted that I was going to walk Mal. With a killer on the loose, I needed to ensure that someone knew where I was at all times. I grabbed my jacket, slipped on my shoes, and headed to the door. Just inside the back door was a set of hooks where I kept one of Mal’s halters and leashes. There was a duplicate halter and leash upstairs in the apartment for late night walks.

  I helped Mal step into her halter, grabbed a poo bag, and stepped out into the back alley. Mal ran across to her favorite patch of grass. I stared up into the dark night sky. It was cloudless and the stars twinkled. I had been right to be angry with Trent for thinking he could solve all my problems. But perhaps I hadn’t handled it as well as I should have.

  Truth be told I wasn’t sure yet what I was doing. If I took him back, I would spend my life playing second fiddle to his work. Mal finished and I decided to take a walk down by the marina. It was one of my favorite walks with Mal. Especially when the island was quiet and the breeze blew softly off the straits.

  We walked down to the end of the alley. I frowned. It had been a couple of days since I had seen Mr. Beecher. Usually I saw him at least once a day cutting through the alley on his walk. I certainly hoped he was okay. I turned to Main Street and waved at Mary Emry, who was cashiering at Doud’s Market. Then Mal and I turned toward the fort. The lawn was filled with fireflies. The glowing bugs added a twinkly dimension to the expanse of grass. A horse and carriage passed us on the road. There was a group of four people inside, laughing and sharing a glass of wine. Mal tugged me across the street to the marina. She had a fascination with the water ever since we found the dead girl there. I think she liked to see what new things washed up against the docks.

  There were a few boats. Mostly fishermen or people who summered on their yachts and were not ready to move south for the winter. A group of men sat around a small fire in a fire pit laughing. Children raced through the cool damp grass of late evening.

  I pulled my jacket up around my chin as the breeze turned brisk. “Come on, Mal,” I said. “Let’s head home. It’s been a long day.”

  She barked and tugged on her leash toward the pier. I laughed. “All right, one sniff, then we have to go home.”

  She dragged me a few yards from the group of men and sat down on the water’s edge, barking.

  “What is it?” I asked. Mal rarely barked. When she did there was usually a problem. I had gotten to where I was afraid to look. I peered over the edge and saw a dead duck floating on the water. I was at once sorry for the animal and glad it wasn’t another person. “It’s just a duck,” I said. “I’m sorry but we can’t take care of it. I’ll call animal control when we get back to the hotel.” I turned and came face to chest with Jeffery. “Oh!”

  “Hey, watch what you are doing,” he said, and put his hands on my forearms to steady me. “You’ll end up in the drink.”

  “You startled me,” I said with a hand to my heart. Mal jumped up on him as if to say hello.

  “Hello, doggy,” Jeffery said, and patted Mal’s head.

  “I didn’t hear you walk up,” I said with a frown. “What brings you out tonight? Isn’t Mrs. O’Connor’s place kind of far from here?”

  “Not that far,” he said with a quick frown and a shake of his head. “I like to go out walking in the evenings. It clears my head and helps me work on the plotlines.”

  “I see,” I said, and pulled Mal away from him.

  “What brings you to the docks?”

  “Mal likes the walk,” I said with a slight shrug. “The weather is nice.”

  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Getting cold, if you ask me,” he said.

  “How long are you going to be on the island?” I asked. “You’ve been here since May, right? Are you staying through the winter?”

  “Don’t know,” he said with a frown. “Probably not. I’ve got to see how many changes they make to the script on the pilot.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Did Dirk say when they would start shooting?”

  “I think he said Monday? But don’t quote me on that,” I said. “I thought you would know.”

  “Hmm.” He shrugged into his coat. “I’m pretty sure the crew shows up tomorrow.”

  “How long does it usually take to film a pilot?”

  “A couple of days,” he said. “They get as many outdoor shots as possible. Then go back to LA to shoot in the studio.”

  “That’s what I thought,” I said. Mal barked and yanked her leash out of my hand. “Mal!” I shouted, and ran after her. She rushed toward the coffee shop. “Mal!” I grabbed at the leash she dragged. The second grab and I got it. Mal stopped short and sat. “What are you doing?” I asked her. She looked at me and then looked at the coffee shop. Someone sat against the building. The person was shadowed. “Hello?” I asked. “Are you okay?”

  The person didn’t move. I grabbed my cell phone and hit the flashlight app on it. Light shown from my cell phone. I could see what appeared to be an old man. He wore dress slacks and a shirt with a vest. A fedora covered his face. My heart rate picked up.

  “Mr. Beecher?” I asked, and stepped closer. “Is that you?” I knelt, swallowing hard, and touched the man’s hand. It was frightfully cold. “Are you okay?” I shook his shoulder. He slumped down to the sidewalk. Frightened, I stood and called 9-1-1.

  “9-1-1, this is Charlene, what is your emergency?”

  “Charlene—”

  “Allie McMurphy,” she cut me off. “Where are you?”

  “I’m by the marina. The coffee shop, to be exact.”

  “I’m dispatching the police now.”

  I waited for her to make the call.

  “What did you find?” she asked.

  “There’s a man here and he is cold to the touch. It’s dark but he sort of looks like Mr. Beecher.”

  “Oh no,” Charlene said. “I’ll send the EMTs as well. I hope he didn’t have a heart attack or anything. He’s such a nice man.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “You said you think it is him. Can’t you tell for sure?”

  “His face is covered by a hat,” I said. “But he’s wearing dress slacks and a vest.”

  “I don’t know too many men who wear vests these days.”

  “I agree,” I said, and glanced around. I didn’t see Jeffery anywhere. “That’s strange.”

  “What?”

  “Jeffery Jenas was with me, but now he’s gone.”

  “Who is Jeffery Jenas?”

  “The writer from the television pilot.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Yes, I heard a writer has been staying with Mrs. O’Connor this summer. Did you talk to him?”

  “I did,” I said, “but then Mal got away from me. She ran to the body and now Jeffery is gone.”

  “Sounds suspicious,” Charlene said. “I’ll let the crew on shift know to keep an eye out for him.” She paused and I heard sirens in the distance.

  “The ambulance is on its way,” I said. In front of the ambulance were two police officers on bicycles. They pulled up and got off their bikes. I held Mal as they neared. “Rex and Officer Pulaski are here.”

  “Sounds like it’s safe enough for you to hang up. Take care, honey,” Charlene said, and the phone went dead.

  “Are you all right?” Rex asked me as he approached.

  “I’m fine,” I said, and noticed that Dirk had appeared shortly behind the ambulance.

  “What’s going on?” Dirk asked in his perfect Rex imitation.

  Rex shot him an angry glare over his shoulder. “We got a call about a dead body. Possibly Mr. Beecher?”

  I swallowed hard. “He seems to be dressed like Mr. Beecher,” I said, and pointed
to where the body lay slumped on its side. “I didn’t take off the hat to check. I didn’t want to contaminate the crime scene.”

  “Smart girl,” Dirk said as all three men headed toward the body.

  “How did you know he was dead and not just sleeping?” Brent Pulaski asked.

  “I touched his wrist. It was cold. I went to shake him when he tipped over and so I called Charlene.”

  Two EMTs came up with a stretcher and medical kits. One was George Marron, who had been the lead EMT the first time I’d found a body on the island and was now a friend. Beside him was a young woman I’d never met. Her name tag said EMMERSON.

  “The man’s dead,” Rex said. He had hunkered down and removed the hat. There was a bullet hole in the middle of the man’s forehead. Thankfully, it wasn’t Mr. Beecher.

  “That’s not Beecher,” Brent said. He turned to me. “What made you think it was?”

  “The clothes,” I said. “He has on corduroy pants and a shirt and a vest. That along with the fedora is what Mr. Beecher wears every day.”

  “Beecher always wears a coat,” Rex corrected me.

  “That’s true,” I said. “I haven’t seen him today and that’s unusual. Do you know who the victim is?”

  “He isn’t familiar,” Rex said. He glanced up at George. “Do you recognize him?”

  “No,” the EMT replied. He hunkered down and took the body’s vitals. “He’s definitely dead. Rigor is starting to set in.”

  “Did you see anyone near the body?” Rex asked as he stood.

  “No,” I said. “I was out walking Mal when we ran into Jeffery Jenas.”

  “Who?”

  “The writer for the television show. He’s staying with Mrs. O’Connor at the Sigmunds’ cottage on Mission Point. I was standing near the marina when he came up behind me. Scared the devil out of me.”

  “Did he tell you what he was doing out here?” Rex asked, and made a note in his notepad.

  “He said he was out for his nightly walk,” I said. “You should talk to him. He might have seen something. The thing is I don’t know whether he was coming from Mission Point or going back to Mission Point. But he was definitely in the area.”