Oh Say Can You Fudge

by Nancy CoCo

  “Can I bring you up a tray with coffee, tea, and some cookies?” Frances asked as we walked by my small team to head up the stairs.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “No need to bother,” Rex said at the same time. “This won’t take long.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Well, we can stay down here then.” I sent my crew a look. “They were all heading up to the apartment. Weren’t you?”

  They agreed. “Sure.” “Right.”

  “Well, there are a few cookies left on the coffee bar.” Frances picked up Mal and made sure my puppy went up with the rest of them.

  “Do they always gather in your apartment at night?” Rex asked.

  “We’re a big family,” I said with a small shrug. “I like the company.” I waved him back over toward two overstuffed chairs that faced each other across the rag rug in the heart of the lobby.

  The McMurphy was quiet this time of night. At a certain point, the ferries quit running. The entire Main Street closed up except for a couple bars and the hotel restaurants. Life on Mackinac was intentionally quiet and slow. The bigger hotels had front yards where fire pits were lit and marshmallows toasted. People would sit outside and talk until the cold or the mosquitos drove them back inside.

  The coffee bar was on the east side of the lobby near the other set of stairs. The fudge shop area was closed off by glass walls and the work area was separated from the viewing area by a long thick glass counter where the trays of fudge were displayed.

  Across from the fudge shop was a small settee, two chairs, and a fireplace. Frances’s reception desk was tucked up near the staircase I came down. Behind her large bar-like desk was a wall of slots that held mail or notes for each guest room. People could leave their keys in the cubby knowing that they were never left alone. After nine PM the doors were locked and guests had to carry their keys to access the entrance to the lobby.

  “Do you have an identification on the dead guy?” I asked. “Like I said at the warehouse, I’m pretty sure it was Rodney Rivers.”

  “We are unable to make an official identification at this time. Not much was left of the body. We also suspect it was Rodney. No one has seen or heard from him since this morning. As I recall, you received a couple calls from him.” Rex sat, took out a notepad and a pen, and leaned toward me.

  “Yes, I’ve got three calls from him all time stamped.” I took my cell phone out of my pocket. “I got caught up in fudge making for the Star-Spangled Fourth celebration and didn’t think to check my phone.” I put in my password, then flipped through the recent calls section. “He called me three times, see?” I showed Rex my phone. He took down a note. “If you want, I’ll play the voice messages for you, again.”

  “Yes, I’d like that if you are willing to let me listen.”

  “Sure.” I dialed my voice mail box and put the phone on speaker.

  “You have two new message and two saved messages,” the phone’s messaging system said. “First unheard message sent today at five P.M. ‘Hi Allie, this is Trent. I was just calling to see how your day was going and to ask what you were wearing.”

  My eyes grew big and I touch the speaker button to mute the rest of the message. “Sorry.” The heat of a blush rushed up my neck and into my cheeks. “Hold on.” I put the phone up to my ear and looked away from Rex as Trent’s sexy message continued.

  Note to self. Check all your messages before you make them public.

  I couldn’t help the smile that appeared on my face at the rest of the message. Trent Jessop, handsome, wealthy, and overall sexy good guy was leaving me hot messages. That did so much for my poor shabby ego.

  “Second unheard message,” the phone said. I pulled it away from my ear and hit SPEAKER. “Sent today at one-o-three PM. ‘Hi Allie. Rodney again. There is something really wrong going on here at the warehouse. It looks like the padlocks have all been cut and the magazines opened. Call me back. This is important. The fireworks show might be in jeopardy.’

  “End of message,” the phone droned. “To delete this message press seven. To save it press nine.”

  “First saved message, sent today at twelve thirty-four PM.” ‘Allie, we’ve got a problem. Meet me at the fireworks warehouse as soon as possible. The entire program is in ruins.’

  “End of message,” the phone droned. “To delete this message press seven. To save it press nine.”

  I pressed the nine key.

  Rex wrote notes, his head down, his gaze on his paper. I assumed it helped him to listen if he wasn’t looking at me.

  “Next saved message,” the phone went on. “Sent today at 1:30 PM. ‘Allie, answer your phone, will you? This is serious and time sensitive. The entire back row of fireworks has been tampered with—Hey, you. What are you doing here? Are you responsible for—’

  “End of message,” the phone droned. “To delete this message press seven. To save it press nine.”

  I pressed the nine key.

  “End of messages,” the phone said. “To repeat these messages press five or press pound for more options.”

  I hit the END button and put my phone down on the end table beside my chair. It suddenly felt a lot heavier. I leaned back in my chair and hugged my waist. “Now that I think about it, the dead guy had the same hair color and cut as Rodney. I know that I didn’t know Rodney very well, but I’m certain it was him on that desk. Can you say I identified the body? I mean, sure, it would have been better if he was standing in front of me with his pyro technique plan in his hands, but if it helps his family to know sooner . . .”

  “It’s okay, Allie.” Rex looked at me with his flat cop eyes. “We don’t need you. Listen, I’m going to need to ask the phone company for your cell phone records and a copy of those recordings. Do I have your permission to do that?”

  “Yes.” I was suddenly very tired. “This was the first year Rivers Productions was going to do the three fireworks shows. I pulled some strings to bring Rodney in to the Mackinac Island celebrations. He was the world’s best fireworks guy. I don’t know how we are going to replace him.”

  “How did you get him to agree to do the show? If he is the world’s best, I have to assume he was quite a bit outside the Mackinac Island Fourth of July budget.”

  “He was.” I nodded in agreement. “But my Mom’s cousin did him a couple favors and he owed the family. Mom remembered him and got his name from her cousin. I called and the rest is history. No one here had ever called to use his services until I got on the committee.” I ran a hand over my face and sighed. “I wanted to impress everyone so they would see that I’m a valuable part of the community.”

  “You are valuable,” Rex said. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone on this island.”

  “Yes, well tell Angus that. He still carries his rabbit foot around to ward off my negative juju.”

  Rex laughed and sat back, settling into his chair. “Angus is just messing with you. He does that with people he likes.”

  “Oh, okay. That makes me feel a bit better.” I curled my feet up onto the seat of my chair. “If the dead guy is Rodney, then I have two problems. First, I have to try to replace the fireworks that blew up and second, I have to replace Rodney. Neither of those things is going to be easy.”

  “No,” Rex agreed and stood up. “They’re not.”

  I stood with him. “Was that all you needed?”

  “Yes, thanks for your help.” He put on his police hat and I walked him to the front door of the McMurphy. “If you hear from Rodney, let me know as soon as possible.”

  “I will. Let me know the moment you get your identification. I’ll get started on finding new fireworks.”

  Rex pushed the door open and held it. His gaze grew serious. “If I were you, I’d hedge my bets and find another pyro technician. I have a feeling Rodney isn’t going to show up anywhere any time soon.”

  I drew my eyebrows together and frowned. My heart was heavy with the loss of a man I barely knew, my hopes for the Fourth of July firework
s display, and my dream of being the best thing that happened to the Mackinac Island Star Spangled Fourth celebration.

  Suddenly, a cat zipped in through the crack of the door that Rex held open. It was a streak of calico.

  Startled, I said, “Oh!”

  “Cat!” Rex closed the door and we stood for a moment, watching the cat run under the settee in the center part of the lobby. “Do you have a cat?” he asked, confused.

  I shook my head. “No. How strange is it to just have a cat come in out of the night?”

  Rex and I walked together over to the settee. I got down on my hands and knees and peered under the couch. “Hi kitty.”

  The cat bunched itself up and hissed at me.

  Rex knelt down beside me. “I don’t recognize the cat. Do you?”

  “No.”

  The cat hissed again.

  “Come on kitty, kitty.” I made a loud kiss noise with my lips. “Pretty kitty.”

  The cat backed up farther from me. His eyes were large and wary.

  I turned my head toward Rex. “I don’t think he likes me.”

  “I’ll get him.” Rex reached and swept his hand under the couch to grab the cat, but the cat was having none of that. It shot out the back of the couch and up the staircase.

  Rex and I sat back on our knees, looked at each other, and burst out laughing.

  “Looks like you might have just inherited a cat,” he said, standing up.

  “I hope not.” I stood up, too. “It’s not that I don’t like cats, but I have a hotel full of guests and a fudge shop that needs to be maintained under strict food inspector rules. I already have a puppy. Any more animals might be a code violation.”

  “Then I guess we need to go on a cat hunt.” Rex brushed off his hands.

  Thankfully, the floors in the lobby were finished wood floors and Frances ensured that they were kept spotless. A quick glance at my hands proved there was nothing to brush off.

  Rex pointed upstairs. “You’d better call your crew down. I’ve had cats for pets. They are masters at hiding. There have been days that go by without seeing my cat.”

  I drew my brows together in concern. “Don’t they need food and water?”

  “Yes,” he said with a wry grin. “But they are sneaky suckers. One minute the food will be in the bowl and the next gone without me ever having seen the cat.”

  “Awesome,” I said and pulled out my phone. I dialed Jenn’s cell. “What a day. I lost a warehouse full of fireworks and possibly a pyro technician but gained a stray cat.”

  Rex shook his head. “Some days are like that.”

  Chapter 4

  I discovered that Mal was great at sniffing up dead bodies and rather indifferent to searching out stray cats. She did, however, glory in the fact that she had us all following her around the McMurphy.

  Frances was the first to call off the search. “I’ll put up notices for the guests tomorrow. We’ll find the cat. In the meantime, Allie, go to bed. You have to get up in a few hours to make fudge.”

  “And you have to be back here to man the reception desk,” Jenn pointed out to Frances. “We have a group of ten coming in tomorrow. If they come in early and the rooms aren’t ready, we’ll have to store their luggage and coordinate the cleaning.”

  Frances nodded and hid a yawn. “Yes, the Summersets in room three-o-three already tried to extend their stay. I had to tell them we were fully booked, so I suspect they will take their time leaving.”

  “I’ll put a note under their door reminding them that check out is at eleven.” Jenn said.

  “What will we do with the cat once we find it?” I asked. When they all looked at me as if I was a simpleton, I added, “What? I never had pets growing up. Mal is my first. I wouldn’t even know how to pick up a cat, let alone what to do with it after I’d done that.”

  “Nonsense,” Frances said. “Cats are sweet babies. Okay sometimes ornery and always in charge, but sweet.”

  “We can put the cat in Mal’s carrier and take it to the vet for safekeeping,” Jenn suggested. “Someone must be missing their baby. I’ll take a picture and hang up posters.”

  “It’s a plan,” I said.

  “Unless you want to keep the cat,” Frances suggested as Mr. Devaney held out her windbreaker for her to put on.

  “I don’t think I can.” I furrowed my brow. “There are codes about having animals in places where food is served.”

  “You could always install a door on the fudge shop,” Jenn suggested after we hugged and waved the older couple off into the night.

  I glanced at the fudge shop and pursed my lips. “That might work, but it would be very expensive. All to keep a stray cat.”

  “Stray cats are the best,” Jenn said and grinned as we followed Mal up the stairs to the apartment. “There’s a song that says so.”

  The next morning the Summersets had to be ousted out of their rooms. They left begrudgingly, vowing to never stay at the McMurphy again. Jenn handled it with tact and great aplomb.

  Still no sign of the cat and I had begun to suspect my tired mind had made up the entire episode. I don’t remember Papa Liam every having a cat just make itself at home in the McMurphy. If one ever had, he wouldn’t have kept it a secret. In fact, he’d have created this giant story about it. I smiled at the memory of his wild stories and for the first time in a few weeks tears filled my eyes. I missed Papa. It would have been fun to share the great cat hunt with him.

  My cell phone rang and I put the bowl I was washing back into the sink, pulled off the rubber gloves I used when dishwashing, and grabbed the phone. “This is Allie.”

  “Hi Allie,” a female voice said. “This is Mrs. Amerson, the chair of the Star Spangled Fourth planning committee. How are you today?”

  “I’m good,” I said and headed out of the fudge shop. “How are you?” I waved at Jenn who nodded and moved into the fudge shop to man the sinks and candy sales while I was on the phone.

  “I’m not good, Allie. I heard about yesterday’s explosion at the warehouse near the airport.”

  “I know. It was awful, wasn’t it?” I walked upstairs toward the office.

  “I understand we lost all the fireworks for the Star Spangled Fourth.”

  “Yes, the warehouse was a complete loss,” I said as I hit the third floor. A movement caught my eye and I saw a black and white and orange cat strolling down the hallway. “Cat!” I shouted into Mrs. Amerson’s ear. A quick look around told me that my staff was nowhere close enough to hear my shout.

  “Excuse me?” Mrs. Amerson sounded angry. “Are you yelling at me?”

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry.” The cat and I froze and stared at each other. “A stray cat got into the McMurphy last night and we have been unable to find it. Now that I’m on the phone with you, it’s out and in the middle of the hallway.”

  “I see,” she said, sounding even angrier. “Allie, the fireworks display is far more important than your stray cat antics. Mackinac Island is proud to have a tradition of three eye-catching and spectacular fireworks shows. I will not allow you to come in and ruin that tradition. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” I said softly and dropped my shoulders.

  “Then you will stop your nonsense and tell me how you’re going to fix this mess you put us in.”

  “What do you mean, I put us in?”

  “This is your first year on the committee and this is the first year the fireworks were stored on the island. You contracted with the Rivers Productions company. Therefore, you are one hundred percent responsible for the poor management that lead to the explosion. Now tell me what you plan to do about it?”

  “I’ll get us fireworks,” I said. “You and the rest of the committee can be assured that the shows will go on and they will be spectacular.”

  “They’d better be, Allie McMurphy.” Mrs. Amerson’s tone was stern. “They had better be.” The phone went dead in my hand.

  I tried not to worry over much about the promise I had just ma
de to the head of the Star Spangled Fourth celebration planning committee. The cat and I were still frozen in place, each one waiting for the other to make a move. I lifted up my phone and hit the CAMERA button. If nothing else, I would have a photo of the cat to show the staff and post on notices.

  I slowly lifted the phone with the cat fully visible in the target box. I hit the PHOTO button and in the seconds between the lift of the camera and the shutter going off, the cat streaked past me and down the stairs. “Darn it!” I said as I noted the picture was nothing but a fast blur going down the hallway. I stuffed the phone into the pocket of my chef jacket and headed down the stairs after it.

  “Here kitty, kitty,” I called and pursed my lips to make kissy sounds. “Good kitty.” Yeah, that still wasn’t working. I stopped on the second floor landing and studied the hallway. There was no sign of the cat, but then three of the rooms were open. I headed down the hall, the old floor creaking under my feet.

  I had replaced the worn, thin, green carpet in the halls when I had the McMurphy remodeled in early May. The carpet was now a soft mix of dark green, rose, and tan. The pattern was a series of swirls. I had asked about carpet that was all one color and had been advised that in high traffic areas such as the McMurphy’s hallways I should go with patterned flooring. The swirl pattern was supposed to be similar to a carpet pattern popular in the early 1900s when the McMurphy was first built. The scent of carpet freshener filled the air.

  I popped my head into the first open guest room. “Kitty, kitty.”

  Frances came around with balled up dirty sheets in her arms. “Did you see the cat?”

  “Yes. I tried to take a picture, but all I got was a blurred streak, see?” I thumbed through my phone, brought the picture to the front, and raised it for Frances to see with her reading glasses. “It was in the third floor hall. It went down the stairs fast. I think it’s on this floor.”

  “I haven’t seen it,” she said. “But before I lock up the rooms, I’ll check under the beds and in the closets. I don’t want guests to check in only to discover they have a cat when the critter starts running around like crazy at three in the morning.”