by Nancy CoCo
It was a lovely day. I was continually amazed at the laid-back beauty of the island and the large state park in the center. The park offered good hiking, beautiful views, and fresh air to anyone who had had enough of the hustle and bustle of the fort and shops of Main Street. I watched the Grand Hotel’s Cessna 421 C charter plane land as I drew close to the airport.
The warehouse, just outside the airport, was built to store supplies that were flown in during the winter months when the ferries quit running. We picked it for the fireworks storage because it was cinder block and away from the crowds.
A handful of tourists stepped out of the plane and onto the tarmac. The Grand Hotel was a magnet for the wealthy and offered the charter plane service as a quick and easy way onto the island from Chicago or Detroit.
The three men stepping out of the plane were perfectly groomed and wore aviator sunglasses, stylish jeans, and immaculately pressed linen shirts. Two women wore what appeared to be designer-cut halter dresses with floral patterns. Their long bare legs were made even longer by their gold-toned sandals.
The last to step out of the plane was Sophie Collins, the local pilot. She wore a crisp white shirt with epaulets and tan slacks. Her dark curly hair was pulled back in a low, easy ponytail. I waved at her. She waved back, then turned to escort her clients to the waiting horse-drawn carriage that would take them to the Grand Hotel.
I met Sophie at a dinner party Trent Jessop’s sister had given for about twenty of the local island folks. Unlike the others, Sophie had been the only one to treat me like an equal. We had a long discussion about the cliquishness of island society. Sophie was in her early thirties and had been a full-time pilot for the Grand Hotel for ten years. She still occasionally ran up against people treating her like an outsider.
I parked my bike in front of the warehouse and took note that there were two other bikes nearby. One had the look of a rental bike. On Mackinac Island there were many places to rent bikes. Most of the better hotels had bike rental right outside their doors. The second bike was a professional off-roader. It had the used look of a local’s.
“Hello?” I said as I opened the door. “Mr. Rivers? It’s Allie McMurphy. I’m sorry for the delay. I was in the middle of developing a new fudge recipe. I came as soon as I got your messages.”
The overhead fluorescent lights buzzed and hissed above me. “Hello?” The first aisle was quiet. While the shelves were filled with boxes large and small, there wasn’t a human to be found. “Mr. Rivers? It’s Allie. You left me a message about a problem?”
The second aisle of shelves was also empty. I paused to see if I could hear anyone talking. There were two bikes besides mine, so someone had to be here, didn’t they?
The warehouse contained two offices in the back near the bay doors, which were big enough to bring in full pallets of supplies—in this case, fireworks. Maybe Rodney Rivers was in one of the offices with whoever else was here. It could be that they had closed the door and couldn’t hear me.
A quick glance down the third and last aisle didn’t reveal anything tragic as his voice mail stated. Perhaps he cleared everything up already. After all, it had been over an hour since the last phone call.
My phone rang. Startled, I jumped what felt like ten feet. Clearly I was on edge in the warehouse. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw that the number belonged to Rex Manning, sexy police officer and now my good friend. “Hello?”
“Allie, are you okay? Frances said there may be trouble at the fireworks warehouse.”
“I’m good, except my heart is racing from being startled by my phone ringing,” I replied and walked toward the two offices. The offices were built with half walls of cinder block and the rest of each wall was a window so that the manager of the warehouse could look out and keep an eye on the workers.
Rex chuckled. “Spooky at the warehouse? Where’s Phil Angler? He’s usually around there somewhere.”
“I have no idea. When I got here there were two bikes parked outside. One looked like a rental, so I assume it belongs to Rodney Rivers, maybe the second belongs to Phil.”
“Was it a blue off-roader?”
“I think so,” I said and continued toward the darkened office. “I wasn’t paying that much attention. I was in a bit of a hurry.”
“Hurry for what?”
“I got two voice messages from Rodney Rivers. He’s the pyro technician I hired for the two fireworks shows. The first one said we had a problem at the warehouse and I was to call him back. The second got interrupted, but I think he said something about sabotage.”
“I don’t like the sound of that, Allie. Get out of the warehouse.” His tone of voice brooked no argument. Not that his tone had any effect on me.
“I’m fine. As far as I can tell no one’s here.” I put my free hand on the glass to break the glare and peered into the dark office. “According to my phone the last call was an hour or so ago. Maybe he resolved things already.”
“Allie, I’m serious. Get the hell out of the warehouse. Do it now.”
“But—”
“I swear, Allie, sometimes you are too stubborn for your own good. Get out. The place might be rigged and—”
“—could explode,” I finished and pursed my mouth as I peered down the aisle. The last office was just a few feet away with only the distance of the bay door between me and it. “I watch TV, too. How often does that happen in real life?”
“Allie—”
“Okay, fine. I’m at the bay door in the back anyway. I’ll just stick my head over and take a peek in the second office and I’ll leave.”
“I’m nearly there,” Rex said. “I need you to leave now.”
“But it’s only a few feet and I’ll be careful.” I checked for trip wires or anything like what you see in movies that might cause an explosion as I carefully tiptoed across the bay door. “If anyone sees me doing this, they’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“Allie, I’m very serious—”
“I’m being careful, really. I promise, I won’t open the door or anything. I’m only going to peek inside.” I slowly made it across the bay to see there was a light on in the second office. “The light is on. I’m sure it will be fine. Phil’s probably inside, unaware that you have me skulking around.”
“Darn it, Allie.”
I peeked inside the window and stopped cold. “Oh, no.”
“What is it? What’s going on?”
“There’s a man slumped across the desk faceup.” I couldn’t help the wince in my voice. “He’s faceup so I can see his expression and his eyes have the same look that Joe Jessop’s did. I’m pretty sure he’s dead. Do you want me to go in and see?” I reached out to the office doorknob.
“Freeze!” Rex’s voice echoed from both the phone and hall behind me.
I screamed a little and wheeled around to see Rex Manning striding purposefully toward me, dressed in full police uniform, his bike helmet still on his head. He had one hand out in the universal sign of stop and the other hand on the butt of the gun on his hip.
“Darn it! You scared me half to death.” I scowled at him. “How did you get here so fast?”
“Frances called me the minute you left the McMurphy.”
“Figures,” I muttered. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in the building?”
“Get your hand off that doorknob, Allie.” Rex was serious, and his seriousness got to me. It was one thing for him to be authoritative on the phone and quite something different to see him face-to-face in full cop mode. I raised both hands slowly in the air.
“I’m not touching it.”
“Good,” he said and was beside me. “Hang up your phone.” He looked into the office. “Shoot, you’re right. He has the blank stare of a dead man. You need to get out of the building.” He put his hand on my arm and gently led me to the entrance door beside the bay door. He stopped and carefully inspected the door, running his hand along the edges. “Feels clean.” He cautiously opened the door. Alarms
went off, blaring.
I covered my ears and let him lead me outside and a few hundred feet from the building. We stood where the surrounding parking lot gave way to woods.
“Charlene,” Rex said into the walkie-talkie on his shoulder. “We need the fire department and the EMTs—and call in a bomb squad from Mackinaw City.”
“Bomb squad?”
“That’s right.” Rex studied me. “Allie McMurphy reported a phone call that someone tampered with the fireworks. I want a bomb squad here to check out the warehouse before anyone goes back in there.”
“I’ve got a call into Mackinaw City,” Charlene replied over the crackle of the walkie-talkie. “Do I need to send in Shane?”
“What makes you think we need the assistant ME?”
“Allie McMurphy’s there, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then there’s a ninety-eight percent chance she found another dead body.”
Rex’s mouth went flat, making a thin line of disgust. “Get the fire department out here.”
“Yes, sir.” She didn’t sound the least bit contrite. “That girl is trouble, Officer Manning. Be careful.”
“Allie didn’t find a dead body,” Rex said sharply. “She called in the bomb threat like a responsible adult.”
“I’m sure she did.” The communicator went dead as they hung up.
I hugged my arms around my chest. “You’re right. He only looked dead. You should have let me go check on him. What if he needed help?”
“Let me hear your phone messages,” Rex held out his big hand. I called up the voice mail, tapped in my password, and handed the phone to him. His frown grew darker as he listened. “I’m going to have to keep these. They’re evidence.”
“What about Mr. Rivers? If you won’t let me, shouldn’t you at least go and check on him?”
“You recognized the guy in the office?”
“Yes, I think it was Rodney Rivers. He is the lead pyro tech I hired to do the Star-Spangled Fourth fireworks show.”
He shook his head. “Dead or not, I can’t take the chance that the place isn’t rigged to blow. That’s a warehouse full of fireworks. If it explodes, he really will be dead, along with anyone else inside.”
I heard sirens in the distance. The island was anti motor vehicle except for first responders. Then all rules were broken. It only made sense that we had an ambulance and fire truck. There was a limit to charm when people needed help.
“Stay put!” Rex ordered and stepped out to direct the vehicles.
I stuck my tongue out at his back. He whirled around, but I put my hands up and blinked innocently. “I’m staying right here.”
Rex was not much taller than me, but he was a big man with shoulders as wide as a mountain, a thick neck, and a shaved head in the fit manner of an action hero. In the last few months I’d gotten to know him well. He had even asked me out once, but I’d already said yes to my current boyfriend, Trent Jessop. It’s not that Rex wasn’t attractive, but Trent left me feeling like the luckiest girl alive. Meanwhile, Rex was a bit bossy. If you haven’t already noticed.
Thirty minutes later I still didn’t have my phone and had finally given up and sat down on the curb of the parking area. I had watched as Sophie had flown out right after the call and came back. Three guys in thick bomb suits, with helmets in hand, strolled around the corner where the fire truck and ambulance sat. I assumed that was who Sophie had collected in her quick flight.
I was far enough away from the vehicles that I couldn’t hear what Rex said to the men, but their expressions were deadly serious as they put on the helmets and carefully entered the building through the door Rex had pushed me out.
“First time I ever had to escort a bomb squad on the island,” Sophie said as she walked toward me from the far edge of the parking lot. “It must be serious for Rex to call in trolls.”
Some people called anyone from the Lower Peninsula trolls because they lived under the Mackinac Bridge. The suspension bridge is the longest in the Western Hemisphere and the fifth-longest bridge in the world. People around Mackinac were proud that it was nearly twice as long as the Golden Gate Bridge, but the claim to fame ended there as it was not nearly as wide.
“Frances told him I had phone messages about trouble at the fireworks warehouse,” I said as she sat down on the curb next to me. “He got all bossy and practically dragged me out of the warehouse.”
“If Rex called the troll bomb squad he had good reason to drag you out,” Sophie said. “I’ve known him for ten years and have never seen him panic.”
“In my defense, I didn’t see anything to worry about until I peeked into the last office.” I hugged my knees to my chest.
“Rumor has it you found yet another dead guy,” Sophie said as she stretched her long legs out in front of her. “Kind of got a knack for that, don’t you?”
“It’s a newfound talent,” I sighed. “I’d much rather be making fudge right now.”
“I heard you hired Sandy as your assistant. That was good. She’s one of the best chocolatiers I’ve ever met—and living on the island, I’ve met more than my fair share.”
I turned my gaze from the goings-on at the warehouse to Sophie. “Sandy is good. She should have her own shop.”
“Well, some of us don’t have family businesses to go into.”
“Ouch.”
She sighed and leaned back on her hands. “Sorry. That didn’t come out right.” She straightened. “I’m glad you gave her a chance. No one else would.”
“I needed the help and she’s good—better than me with the chocolate sculpture.” I studied the building. “Do you think the warehouse will really blow up?”
“No, not unless the bomb guys come across something they haven’t seen before.”
I winced. “I hope they don’t blow up. I’ve seen enough death in the last few months.”
“I’m sure it’s just Rex being overly cautious—”
Sudden movement from the emergency guys caught our attention. They were running and hopping in the vehicles and moving them.
“Where are they going?” I stood and drew my eyebrows together in concern.
Sophie stood with me. “This does not look good.” She took my arm and pulled me back to the woods.
Rex sent a quick shout to the last responder and ran at us. “Get back!” He waved his hands and Sophie linked her arm in mine and ran headfirst into the woods.
Panic had my heart racing and my feet pounding over uneven ground. We jumped over fallen logs. Ferns and scrub and wild raspberries ripped at our pants and tore at our shirts. Rex caught up with us and pushed us even faster until we hit the top of a hill and half ran, half slid at least one hundred feet down.
The loudest explosion I’d ever heard erupted from the trees above us. Rex shoved us both into the earth, shielding us with as much of his body as possible as dust and rocks rolled over us. I inhaled dust and dry pine needles and coughed, my eyes watering. Pushing to sit up and get some fresh air, I watched in amazement as fireworks whistled into the air, exploding at low angles; their color and sparkles, lost in the daylight, showered the dry woods.
“Get down!” Rex ordered, dragging me back into the dirt as a second loud explosion rumbled, raining more rocks and dust.
The walkie-talkie on his shoulder squawked. “Rex, what’s going on? Are you all right?” It was Charlene.
“Call the forest rangers,” Rex barked into the communicator. “We’ve got potential wild fire at the airport.”
“Roger,” Charlene said. “The fire department is on it.”
“What about the airport?” Sophie asked. Her blue eyes shone in her dirt-covered face. “What about my plane?”
Another explosion filled the air. We ducked. I covered my head with my hands as rocks and branches rained down. We were lucky the small ridge above us sheltered us from most of the blast.
The scent of smoke and dirt and fireworks filled my senses. Falling ash burned my hand, and I shook it off.
Rex moved, and I looked up to see him stomping out sparks as they threatened the dry pine needles.
Sophie and I got up. She tore off her shirt, leaving her white athletic T-shirt on, and used the shirt to beat out small fires. I kicked dirt over the sparks that fell near me. The fireworks continued to scream overhead. Their whistles and winding patterns drove them to various heights through the air, showering the area in ear-shattering explosions and sparkles of red, white, and blue.
My first Star-Spangled Fourth had just become the worst disaster Mackinac Island had ever seen. Considering the War of 1812, that was saying a lot.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2014 by Nancy J. Parra
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
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ISBN: 978-0-7582-8712-0
First Kensington Mass Market Edition: September 2014
eISBN-13: 978-0-7582-8713-7
eISBN-10: 0-7582-8713-5
First Kensington Electronic Edition: September 2014