Deck the Halls with Fudge

by Nancy CoCo

  Then Liam had died early this spring and left the McMurphy to his granddaughter, Allie. I just showed up to work every day as usual and Allie had been happy for the help. Allie was such a caring young woman. She would do anything for a friend—even put herself in harm’s way. I admired the girl. She had come in and remodeled the McMurphy to update the lobby and fudge shop area. She cared about keeping century-old traditions but helped the hotel move gently into the twenty-first century.

  Lucky for me, she took my advice most of the time. I didn’t have to tell her she should fire Liam’s handyman, who rarely showed up for work. No, that young woman figured that out all on her own. Then she hired my darling Douglas and changed my life forever.

  Yes, Allie was family to me now.

  “I heard you found a dead body last night,” Allie said as she and her little bichon poo, Mal, came down the stairs.

  I knew Allie had been up for hours already. The place smelled of fresh fudge and the fudge shop had shelves full of a variety of fudges.

  “It was not pleasant,” I said as I took my place up on the stool that sat behind my reception desk. I liked the perch of it. It made me feel as if the hotel were my kingdom and I looked down on it to watch all its secrets. “We called Rex in and he took over the crime scene. The poor man had been killed with a blunt-force object and then put in a sleigh and sent on his way toward town. It was a main road, so there’s no telling where he started off from precisely. The sleigh hit a bump and his body fell off and then the sleigh ran him over.”

  “What happened to the horses and the sleigh?” Allie asked.

  Mal jumped up and did a twirl to beg for a tiny treat. I kept a fishbowl full of small treats on my desk. Reaching for a treat, I rewarded the pooch and then turned my attention to Allie. “They seem to have disappeared. Rex found no sign of a runaway sleigh.”

  “No sign of loose horses?”

  “Nothing,” I said and turned on my computer. “But he did recognize the body. Warren Engle. I taught him and then his younger brother in fifth grade. I’m going to leave in a little bit and take a casserole to his stepmother. I’ve known Leigh Ann for years. She must be a wreck.”

  “Oh, poor dear, yes, of course,” Allie said. “Please send along my condolences as well.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll check today’s reservations and get the rooms assigned before I go. You may have to check out last night’s guests. But I hope to be back before the noon checkout time.”

  “Don’t worry,” Allie said. “Jenn and I will hold down the fort for you. You take all the time you need to comfort your friend.”

  “Thanks,” I said. It made me a little nervous to know that Allie and her best friend Jenn could run the place without me. But I was glad to know she didn’t choose to do it on her own. I might be retired from teaching, but I had a lot of business skills left to use.

  * * *

  An hour later I was on my way to Leigh Ann’s house with my casserole in hand. It was my best lasagna, which I knew would stand up to being frozen and reheated later if she got too much food. Luckily, it was also one of those dishes that tasted better the longer it sat.

  There were no cars on Mackinac and I chose to walk rather than ride my bike on the snowy streets. When I rounded the corner to the Engles’ house, I saw that several people were coming and going from the house.

  On the one hand, I was glad the community was showing Leigh Ann such wonderful support. On the other, I knew for certain I wouldn’t be able to have an intimate conversation with her today. It was too bad. I had so many questions about Warren’s life. Perhaps I could get her to tell me a little even though people were there.

  The door had a snow entrance, which meant the front door opened onto a tiny enclosed porch and then the official door was past where the shoes and coats were placed to keep the dirt and snow outside the house. I knocked on the door and called out through the open doorway. “Hello? Leigh Ann?”

  “Come in,” Sara Grant called from the living room, just inside the door.

  I entered to find Leigh Ann in the center of the couch and people holding her hand and generally staying close by her. There was so much sadness sitting among the cheery Christmas decorations she had up for the holiday.

  Leigh Ann was a lovely woman, with bright blond hair that had been red when she was young. She had steel-blue eyes and a thin frame. She wore a simple black dress. Her eyes were swollen from crying and my heart went out to her.

  “Hello, Leigh Ann, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Hello, Frances,” She said. “Please come in. Is that a casserole?”

  “Lasagna,” I said. “I’ll put it in the kitchen.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  I turned to the door that led to an open kitchen with white cabinets and black-and-white-granite countertops. The countertops were filled with dishes people had brought by, so I took the time to put mine in her freezer.

  “Hello, Frances.” Irene Hammerstein came up behind me. “Isn’t this just awful?”

  “Yes,” I agreed and closed the freezer door. “I had Warren in my fifth grade. It’s a shame to see his life cut short so early.”

  “Well, I heard he was pulling some shady stuff over at the bank,” Irene said. “Maybe what he was doing got him killed.”

  “Oh, that’s horrible. Do you think someone from the bank had motive to kill Warren?”

  “Right here isn’t the best time to speak about what the girls and I think might have happened.”

  “Yes.” I looked over her shoulder to see Leigh Ann burst into a fresh set of tears. “Why don’t we meet this afternoon at the senior center?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Irene said. “They say you found him.”

  “I saw the sleigh from my kitchen window. He fell from the sleigh and was run over by the vehicle. Douglas and I called 9-1-1.”

  “Oh you poor dear, that must have been quite shocking to see,” Irene said and gave me a small hug.

  “It was,” I said and let my expression grow grim. “But not as shocking as losing one of your children, even if they are stepchildren. I know she devoted her life to those boys. How is Leigh Ann holding up?”

  “As well as can be expected,” Irene said and gave me another quick hug.

  “I’m going to go out to sit with her for a bit,” I said.

  “Fine,” Irene said. “We’ll talk later.”

  I moved to the living area and pulled up a dining chair that had been left by the outer wall. “How are you doing?” I asked Leigh Ann.

  “I simply can’t believe anything like this could happen,” Leigh Ann said and put a tissue up to her nose. Her eyes were bright with tears.

  “I remember what a smart boy Warren was,” I said gently.

  “He was such a good learner,” Leigh Ann said. “I remember one year he won every trophy that could be had at the elementary level. Why, it put his poor brother, West, out of sorts for an entire summer.”

  “West was a good learner as well,” I said. “I understand both boys did well in college.”

  “Yes,” Leigh Ann said with a watery smile. “West excelled in computer programming. He lives out in San Francisco and works for one of those big social media companies everyone is always talking about.”

  “Is he coming home?”

  “Yes, I spoke to West a couple of hours ago. He is flying in to Marquette and will take one of the smaller hotel planes to the island. I expect he will be here by late this evening.”

  “I’m glad he’s coming,” I said.

  “So West is a computer programmer and Warren was a banker, isn’t that right?”

  “Yes, he worked for First Island Bank and Trust,” Leigh Ann said. “He recently was promoted to loan management. But he was saving up his money. He had an idea for a business.”

  “What kind of business?” I asked when it was clear she was happier remembering things about her boy instead of thinking about the fact that he was gone.

  “I don�
��t know, he wouldn’t tell me,” she said. Her eyes welled up with tears again. “I guess it’s a secret he’ll take to his grave.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said and stood to give her a soft hug.

  Someone knocked on the doorjamb. “Hello the house,” said a voice.

  “Come on in,” Sara said.

  Mary Emry walked in with her hands full of food. It was then I realized that the front door was open in the middle of winter and yet the house was warm. I glanced around as Leigh Ann told Mary to put her things in the kitchen.

  There was a roaring fire in the large fireplace in Leigh Ann’s living room. That, along with the number of people in the small room, kept it toasty despite the fact that it was freezing outside.

  “I have to go,” I said and stood, zipping my coat up. “Call me if you need anything.” I bent down to give her another hug and then wrapped my scarf around my neck and walked out into the fresh, snowy light of morning.

  It wasn’t right that someone had killed Warren. Didn’t they know they had devastated a family? The injustice of it made my blood boil. My thoughts turned to investigating this murder myself. I had access to something more powerful than police investigation: the senior citizen network.

  Chapter 3

  “Is it all right if I take Mal to visit the senior center?” I asked Allie.

  “You know how much they love her, and she enjoys the attention.”

  “Sure,” Allie said. “By the way, when are you and Douglas coming for dinner again? It’s been a while since you settled into your new home. I miss you.”

  “You have Jenn,” I pointed out. “She seems to have settled well into year-round island life. I saw her snowmobiling with Shane the other day. She sure can plan events, even for the slow season.”

  “That’s Jenn,” Allie said with a smile. “She loves organizing things. Do you like the Christmas decorations she put up in the lobby? She was going with a blue and white theme this year.”

  I looked at the tinsel and the expertly decorated trees: one near the fireplace and one in the front window. She had garlands entwined in the staircase rails and along the front of my desk. Soft holiday music played in the lobby.

  “It’s very festive,” I said.

  “Isn’t it? I’m glad she has decided to stay year-round and headquarter her event-planning business out of the McMurphy. Of course, having you and Douglas has really helped me, too.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “We love the old place as much as you do.” I finished up my computer work and put on my boots and puffy winter coat. “How about I check with Douglas? Maybe we can make it for dinner later this week.”

  “Sounds good; just one other thing . . .”

  “What?” I drew my eyebrows together at her strange tone.

  “Liz asked if you would be around today. I think she wants to interview you about finding the dead body. Do you want me to tell her she can talk with you when you get back?”

  “Sure,” I said. “There isn’t much to the story, but I know every bit helps an investigation.”

  “Great,” Allie said. “I’ve got a bunch of peppermint candy fudge to get out before Christmas. I’ll be in the fudge shop if you need me.”

  “Okay,” I said and grabbed Mal’s coat, halter, and leash. “Come on, little girl,” I said and put on her winter coat and her halter and hooked her leash. “You have friends waiting for your visit.”

  Allie McMurphy’s Recipe for Peppermint Candy Fudge

  Ingredients:

  24 oz. dark chocolate chips

  1 14-oz. can sweetened condensed milk

  ¼ tsp. salt

  1 tsp. peppermint extract

  1 cup crushed peppermint candy canes, divided

  Directions:

  Line an 8-inch square pan with nonstick foil or aluminum foil that is buttered.

  Combine chocolate chips, sweetened condensed milk, and salt in a glass microwaveable bowl. Microwave on high, stirring every thirty seconds until the mixture is smooth.

  Stir in peppermint extract and ¾ cup of crushed peppermint candy cane.

  Pour into prepared pan. Spread evenly. Sprinkle on remaining candy cane pieces.

  Refrigerate for two hours or until set. Remove foil from pan. Place fudge on a cutting board and remove foil. Cut into one-inch pieces. Serve on a platter or place in small candy papers and box for a sweet gift. Enjoy!

  We arrived at the senior center just as the cold was becoming too much. I loved winters on the island. Those who wintered here were of hardy stock. We loved the thick piles of snow and the icy wind off the lake. This year had been colder than usual, and the Straits of Mackinac had iced over. It was so thick, they were beginning to build the ice bridge to the Upper Peninsula.

  Each year some brave souls rode out on the Straits to test the ice. It was a tradition to leave Christmas trees to show snowmobilers the way from the island to the mainland over the ice. This year the cold had come early and the lake was frozen over.

  “Hello the center,” I said as I walked into the blast of heat. “I’ve brought a friend.”

  The usual ladies came to meet me: Irene Hammerstein, Mrs. O’Malley, Mrs. Morgan, Mrs. Albert, Mrs. Helmsworth, Mrs. Abernathy, and Mrs. Tunisian. I had known each of these ladies my whole life. Some were younger than me by a year or so. Some were older by no more than ten years. That meant the eldest in the bunch was only eighty-five. Those in their nineties and older sat in a different part of the senior center and ignored us as much as possible.

  Mrs. O’Malley was a short, round-faced woman with dark black hair cut into a pixie and bright orange reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. Mrs. Morgan was a tiny older woman with snow-white hair, mischievous eyes, and a pointy chin. She reminded me and Allie of an elf.

  “Aw, it’s Mal. Hi, little pup, how are you today?” Mrs. Morgan said. She reached down and scratched Mal around her ears. I had taken off Mal’s coat and leash. She begged for attention as she made her rounds of the ladies at the senior center.

  “Welcome,” Irene said. “Are you ready to start investigating the murder you saw?”

  “I didn’t exactly see a murder,” I corrected her. “I only saw the corpse fall from a sleigh and get run over.”

  “Warren Engle wasn’t the best boy. I don’t know how his mother, Leigh Ann, put up with his shenanigans all those years,” Mrs. Morgan said.

  “I heard he stuck around just to aggravate his mother,” Mrs. O’Malley said.

  “I just saw Leigh Ann early today,” I said. “She was devastated.”

  “It must be terrible to bury a child you raised,” Mrs. Tunisian said.

  “I want to help figure out who did it,” I said as I sat down with the ladies around a card table.

  “What do you want to know?” Irene asked.

  “Who would want to kill Warren?”

  “That’s easy,” Mrs. Morgan said. “I heard that boy recently was promoted to head of the First Island Bank and Trust’s loan department.”

  “I heard he was a bit of a tyrant,” Mrs. O’Malley said.

  “What do you mean, a tyrant?”

  “He was quick to repossess on bad loans,” Mrs. Abernathy said. “I heard he took away Ralph Finnish’s building when he failed to pay on his second mortgage.”

  “That’s odd. How big was the building?” I asked. “How far behind was he on payments?”

  “It was only sixty days since his payment was due,” Mrs. O’Malley said. “But Warren pushed the repossession. The bank took over the property just by paying back taxes. It’s really too bad. It’s a nice building. Ralph was trying to get a business going. Unfortunately, when he lost his property to the bank, there was no going back.”

  “I heard Ralph was working out of his garage now,” Mrs. Tunisian said. “He’s been saving up his pennies to get his building back. His wife was furious when he told her that he lost it.”

  “What is his business?”

  “Woodworking,” Mrs. Tunisian said. “He wanted
the space to make handcrafted furniture.”

  “Why couldn’t he buy it back from the bank?” I asked.

  “Warren bought the property for pennies on the dollar,” Mrs. Tunisian said. “I heard he refused to sell it back to Ralph.”

  “I heard Ralph’s wife was so upset she went down to Ann Arbor to spend the winter with her family,” Mrs. Abernathy said.

  “Sounds like Ralph had plenty of reason to kill Warren,” I said.

  “He’s not the only one,” Irene Hammerstein said and brought me a hot cup of mulled cider. “I heard Warren recently went after Barry Elmwater. Warren threatened to repossess Barry’s family home. Barry convinced him to take some outstanding contracts on barley and hops instead.”

  “Barley and hops?” I asked.

  “There’s more than enough room in the building Ralph Finnish used to own to start a craft beer business,” Mrs. Albert piped up. “Luckily, Barry had some contracts on barley and hops that allowed the owner of the contract to buy premium goods at below market price.”

  “Was Warren Engle starting a craft beer business?” I asked. “I understand one of the biggest problems for craft brewers is having access to crops of barley and hops. I heard most of the crops for craft beer were too expensive for small breweries. It usually takes a lot of negotiation to get any contracts at all, let alone contracts for the best price for those ingredients.”

  “Wow,” Mrs. Albert said to me. “How do you know so much about beer?”

  “My father dabbled in the craft brew business in the sixties, before it became such a popular thing,” I replied. “Then again in the nineties, when access to ingredients started shrinking. Now, is there anyone else who might have been affected by Warren’s repossessions?”

  “Yes,” Minnie Howard said from the far corner. “I heard Warren was about to repossess all of Henry Higginboom’s brewing equipment.”