To Fudge or Not to Fudge (A Candy-Coated Mystery with Recipes)

by Nancy CoCo

  Rex took a pen out of his pocket and poked around in the mulch. The sunlight glinted off another white piece of bone. He put the pen beside it and snapped a picture of the placement.

  Mal strained on her leash as if to say, “Let me help, let me help.” Her stubby tail wagged.

  I pulled her back, disappointed that I couldn’t squat down beside Rex and watch him fish up more parts. Mrs. C stood over him pointing out possible bits of bone, all thought of Mal disrupting her newly groomed gardens gone.

  “So much for our morning walk,” I said to my playful puppy. I hit Jenn’s number on my cell phone.

  “Hi, Allie, what’s up?” Jenn’s voice sang out of my phone.

  “Mal found more bones.”

  “Cool! Where are you?”

  “I’m off Market on the west coast of the island. It’s the white, blue, and green painted lady.”

  “Oh, you mean the Cunningham house?”

  “Yes.” I shook my head and made a face. “How do you know?”

  “I was scouting places for a tea party. Mrs. C is so pleasant to talk with. She said she would consider a Victorian tea party as long as the party was kept to the lawn and her first floor.”

  I eyed the woman. She was thin and suntanned. Her skin had that fine texture of a woman past menopause. Her gray hair was tucked up under a straw hat. She wore a long-sleeved shirt over a T-shirt and brown denim pants. Garden gloves stuck out of her back pocket. She looked like pictures of Katharine Hepburn. It was hard to imagine that tough woman would go for a tea party for tourists in her home. But then Jenn could talk an Eskimo into buying ice.

  “Need me to come get Mal?” Jenn asked, shaking me from my odd thoughts.

  “Yes, please. I need to stay until I’ve given my statement and she’s getting restless.”

  “No worries, hey, your new help just walked in. What do you want me to have her do while you’re out?”

  “Ask her to do the dishes and clean up the kitchen. Hopefully, I’ll be back to do a show of fudge. I can walk her through helping me to make the fudge and entertain the tourists.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll be right there. After all, there is a certain crime scene tech I’m interested in . . .”

  I laughed. “Of course. Officer Manning just put in a request to have him come out.”

  “Wait—do you think this is a different body or more of the same person?”

  I bit my bottom lip and watched Rex carefully place each bit of bone in its own baggie. “It’s hard to tell at this point,” I said. “But if it’s the same person, then they liked red nail polish on their fingers and neon orange on their toes.”

  “So whoever the bones belong to, they were proper on the outside and fun on the inside.”

  “Yes, I suppose that could be true.” I walked Mal away from the crime scene. “Or two separate people—one who liked bright polish and one more conservative with the red.”

  “Can they take DNA from bone and see if they match?” Jenn asked. I heard a door close behind her, and the rush of wind on the phone told me she had stepped outside and was headed this way.

  “That’s a good question for your boyfriend.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” She giggled. “Not exactly dinner conversation, though. I’m going to have to bone up on my science to keep Shane’s interest. No pun intended . . .”

  “Oh, I bet you can do that without trying.” I remembered how Shane Carpenter’s hazel gaze couldn’t stay away from Jennifer’s cute figure. He might wear heavy black-framed glasses, but they couldn’t hide his interest in my best friend.

  Mal jumped up and down. “I see you,” Jennifer said and hung up.

  I let Mal drag me toward Jenn. “That was fast,” I said.

  “What can I say, I’m motivated by eye candy.” Jenn took Mal’s leash and angled her head so she could see around me. “Who’s here?”

  “Officer Manning,” I said. “You’re too early for anyone else.”

  “Then I’ll drag my feet.” Jenn laughed. “How did you find these bones? Mal again?”

  “Yes, she has a super sniffer.” I bent down and patted Mal on the head. “Mrs. Cunningham thought Mal was digging up her pansies and chased her with a rake.”

  “That’s terrible,” Jenn said and gathered Mal up into her arms. Mal rewarded her with a kiss on the cheek. “Poor baby, chased by that mean old woman.”

  “That mean old woman owns the Cunningham house and is a senior member of the island historical society,” I pointed out. “Plus, she forgave Mal when she realized that Mal was digging up bone bits, not flowers. They’re fast friend now, right, Mal?” I patted Mal’s head, and she reached for me. “No, you go with Jennifer. Your work is done here.”

  Mal reacted by resting her head under Jenn’s chin. Jenn giggled and patted her. “She’s a little drama queen.”

  “Right?” I noticed that Shane Carpenter walked over from the administration building with his tool bag in hand. He was a tall man at six feet and thin without being skinny. His CSU uniform was made up of a white button-down shirt with the county logo over the pocket and a pair of black cargo pants with pockets that held things he might need. His light brown hair was cut short on the sides and hung longer in the front, meaning he had to keep pushing it out of his eyes and away from his glasses.

  “More bones?” he asked.

  “Yes, Mal found these as well.” I patted Mal’s head. She ignored me for the attention of the newcomer. Mal sat up and tried to get Shane to take her so that she could kiss him as well. Shane wasn’t having any of her antics, and she fell back on Jenn in disappointment.

  “What about these bones made you call us?” Shane asked as he went over to where Rex kept the evidence bags of the three bones Mal dug up.

  “They look like the bones we found at the Town Crier,” I said as he picked up the bone bits. “See how the cuts are similar? Then this piece looks like it has a flake of red polish. I wondered if they were finger bones.”

  “Yes, they look like phalanges.” He tipped his head and studied them from all angles.

  “Do you think they belong to the same body?” Jenn asked as she cuddled Mal. “Or is there more than one body in the mulch?”

  “I highly doubt there are bodies in the mulch,” he said, and I noticed that his gaze hit Jenn’s in a sizzle moment. The look was so intense that I took a step back to get out of the way.

  “So, it’s safe to walk the streets of Mackinac Island alone?” Jenn batted her eyes at him. “Or should I get an escort?”

  “You have an escort anytime you feel uncomfortable.” He nodded his assurance. “But I doubt you have anything to worry about here.”

  “Well, that’s good to know.” She sent him a small smile, and he turned away and walked over to Rex.

  “Okay, wow, what was that?” I said as quietly as possible.

  “Nice, right?” Jenn said, and she squeezed Mal so hard the puppy squeaked. “Sorry, Mal.”

  We both took a deep breath and watched the men discuss the work in front of them. After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, I turned to Jenn. “Okay, well, I’ll give my statement. Can you take Mal home? Frances can watch her. I won’t be too long.”

  “Sure,” Jenn said and sent one last look toward her date. “Oh, I put Sandy on KP duty. I’ve inspected the guest rooms that were vacated and have a list of small repairs that I gave Mr. Devaney.”

  “Oh, I bet he liked that,” I said sarcastically.

  “Yep.” Jenn giggled. “The only time that man is happy is when Frances is around. Too bad I can’t send Frances to do room inspection.”

  “Well, you could,” I pointed out, “but you’d be stuck doing the financials.”

  “Yeah, no.” Jenn laughed. “I might be decent with numbers but accounting makes me want to stab myself in the eye with an ice pick.”

  “Yikes, okay, no accounting for you. What’s on your agenda this week?”

  “I’ve got a wedding and an engagement party. Why?” She tilted
her head. I didn’t usually ask her what she was doing in her business because she always anticipated the McMurphy’s needs and was there with a solution before I even knew there was a problem.

  “The new girl,” I said.

  “Sandy?”

  “Yeah, she’s a chocolatier. Have her show you her portfolio. I was thinking you might be able to use her in your party planning.”

  “Hmm, what’s a chocolatier doing washing your dishes?”

  “She has family on island and by the time she graduated, all the fudge shops and hotels had already hired their kitchen staff.”

  “Really?”

  “I think she needs someone to give her her first break.” I shrugged. “Not everyone with a dream has a family business to help make it come true.”

  “Now that’s the truth,” Jenn said and put Mal down. “No worries. I’ll look at her portfolio. It would be nice to have access to a chocolatier. I could design centerpieces and desserts.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.” I smiled.

  Mal tugged on the leash, and Jenn took off in the direction of the McMurphy. “See ya!”

  I waved and turned in time to see Shane Carpenter eyeing Jenn like I eye a spectacular piece of fudge. Man, that guy had it bad for my friend. I hope my friend knew what she was getting into. Jenn didn’t have any plans to stay on island permanently, and Shane looked like he was here to stay.

  Mom’s Dark Chocolate Coconut Fudge

  4 cups dark chocolate chips (2 bags)

  1 can sweetened condensed milk

  2 tablespoons butter

  1 teaspoon vanilla

  2 cups flaked coconut

  Butter an 8” x 8” x 2” pan, then line with wax paper or parchment.

  In a double boiler*, melt chocolate, sweetened condensed milk, and butter until smooth and thick.

  Remove from heat. Add vanilla and stir until combined. Pour half of the fudge into the prepared pan and spread evenly. Press coconut in a thick layer into the bottom layer of fudge. Cover the coconut layer with the remainder of fudge. Cool. Refrigerate overnight. Remove from pan. Cut into pieces. Store in a covered container.

  *Invest in a double boiler for making fudge. Using a water bath (fudge pan inside a larger one and with steam/ boiling water) to heat the fudge keeps the chocolate from scroching and or sugaring.

  Also, a good candy thermometer is necessary if you choose to make the kind without sweetened condensed milk.

  CHAPTER 12

  “If I had to guess, I’d say that those bones belong to one person who died and somehow got mixed in the mulch.” I looked into Rex’s pretty blue eyes. “It’s the only thing that explains why the bones were in two separate neighborhoods on island.”

  “That’s the working theory,” Rex said as he eyed the growing pile of bones that were being separated from Mrs. Cunningham’s precious flower garden.

  “I’ve sent scrapings from both bone samples to the county lab for analysis. We’ll know in about six weeks if the bones belong to the same person,” Shane said.

  I winced at the delay. “Six weeks?”

  “That’s fast. Most counties are swamped with work and can be anywhere from six months to two years behind on such analysis.”

  “That’s terrible.” I said. “How can we fix that?”

  “Pay more taxes,” Rex said. “Not exactly on anyone’s list.”

  “A chipper-shredder would explain the cut marks on both of these sets of bones,” Shane mused. “But if the body is one person who went through the chipper, their remains could be scattered throughout town. There’s really no telling where all the bits are without sifting through every garden on island.”

  “Is there only one mulch company?” I asked and hugged myself at the thought of someone being scattered about town.

  “There are two on island,” Rex said. “The Island Compost and Mulch Center is where people can recycle food scraps and downed branches.”

  “Oh, right, I remember Papa Liam took me out there one time as a kid. The smell was enough to discourage me from going back.”

  “Ed Gooseworthy is the supervisor out there,” Shane said. “Find out if he’ll let me swab his shredders and go through the mulch.”

  “Good idea,” Rex said.

  “Wait.” I put my hand on Rex’s bicep. The man was strong as an ox. “What’s the second place for mulch on island?”

  “The horse stables,” Rex replied. His gaze studied my expression.

  I drew my brows together and pursed my lips. “So, like Jessop Stables?”

  “Yes,” Rex said. “There has to be someplace for the straw and manure to go when the horse stalls are cleaned out.”

  “Not to mention a place for the street sweepers to deposit the stuff they clean up,” Shane said.

  “And the Jessops run a composting yard?” It kind of made sense, but it was tough to wrap my mind around. The Jessops were extremely wealthy and well bred. The idea that they made part of their money on horse manure was odd.

  “Exactly,” Rex said.

  “Who would buy that?” From their reactions, I must have looked completely confused.

  “It’s a very good mixture for gardening,” Shane said.

  “They age it for a year or two so that it isn’t so strong it burns the plants. After that it’s great for a wide variety of gardens.”

  “Oh.” I suddenly understood. “That’s why the mulch smells so funny when they first put it out.”

  “Between the manure and the rotting vegetation, the mulch not only prevents weeds from growing but it actually feeds the plants it’s put around.”

  “So, wait.” I made a face. “Are you saying that someone might have gotten trapped in the compost and then run through the chipper-shredder?” I shuddered. “Sounds like a terrible way to die.”

  “If it’s true it would make a heck of a story,” Liz said as she walked up behind me with her notepad and pen in hand. “I bet I could write an entire True Crime story on something like that.”

  “I’m certain both the Island Compost and the Jessop Compost and Mulch Service have safety procedures in place to keep that from happening,” Rex insisted.

  “If the body did come through the garden center it might not be as old as we think.” Shane raised one eyebrow in thought. “Depending on the temperature of the compost pile, the body would decay a lot faster than if it were buried or simply left to rot.”

  “So it could be someone who was here in the last thirty days?” Liz asked.

  “Precisely.” Shane nodded. “I need to get into both places and take temperatures and do some decay experiments.”

  “How much can bones tell you about someone? Enough to help point us in the way of determining who they belong to?” I asked. I mean, I would hate for someone’s family to never know what happened to their loved one.

  “If we get enough bones, we can determine quite a few things about a person.”

  “Great!” I felt my eyes light up.

  “Hold on.” Rex held up his hand as if to stop my excited thoughts. “That kind of determining can take months to put together.”

  I felt my shoulders slump in disappointment. “So it’s still more important to do the old-fashioned detective work.”

  “It’s what they pay me for,” Rex said.

  “I heard through the grapevine that you were actually picked for the reality-show cast,” Liz said. “Congrats! I tried to get in with Bob Salinger for an interview but I’m not having any luck. You would think they’d want the publicity. Could you make some introductions?”

  “You’re doing a reality show?” Rex and Shane both looked surprised.

  “Sort of.” The heat of embarrassment moved into my cheeks. “I don’t think I’m the one you want to ask, Liz. I told Chef Thomas I’d do it only if I was the first one to go.”

  “How come you want to be tossed?” Liz asked. “I happen to know your fudge can compete with the best. It seems to me you’d want to win.”

  “Oh, s
ure, it would be nice to win the hundred-thousand-dollar grand prize and be able to put the award in the fudge-shop window, but I don’t want to take away my time and efforts from my real job, the McMurphy.”

  “Okay.” Liz nodded. “I can understand that. Tell me, how long does it take to tape one of those shows?”

  I winced. “I’m not supposed to say anything about the filming. They make you sign a nondisclosure that is ironclad.”

  “How ironclad?” Rex asked, drawing his eyebrows together.

  “For-as-long-as-you-live ironclad,” I said. “They don’t want their filming practices to get out.”

  “So what can you tell us?” Liz asked, her notebook out and pen ready.

  “Nothing.” I laughed. “Off the record, we were shooting until the wee hours in the morning. A lot more goes into a show like this than you see on television.”

  “I imagine that’s true,” Shane said. “Like a real-world investigation versus a sixty-minute television show.”

  “I still think what you do is cool,” I said. “If I hadn’t been so determined to make the McMurphy go another generation I might have been a chemist or biologist. There are a lot of similarities between science and candy making. It’s all about melting points and air mixtures and proportions.”

  “Precisely,” Shane said and grinned at me.

  “While you two are geeking out, I’m going to call in a couple more teams to scour the island gardens with mulch and see how many pieces we can find,” Rex said.

  “Oh, boy.” I felt my eyes grow wide.

  “What?” Rex asked with a lift of his chin.

  “I think I found another bone,” I said and pointed behind him. Daisy, the Saint Bernard, was at it again. This time she had a long bone that was maybe six or eight inches long. Thing is, it didn’t look like an animal bone. Plus it had the same strange cuts on the ends.

  “Are you sure that’s a human bone?” Shane asked. “Hard to tell from this distance.”

  “Is that a chance you’re willing to take?” I asked.