Oh Say Can You Fudge

by Nancy CoCo

  “I didn’t tell him,” Trent said. “I explained that he didn’t even have to set foot on the island to do the show. Then I added a twenty percent bonus and he agreed to do it.”

  “Did you tell the fireworks committee?” I asked. “Because Mrs. Amerson wasn’t certain I would get it done.”

  “I told them.” He picked up my hand again and kissed it. “Don’t worry. The committee has nothing to complain about.” He glanced up at my parents. “You should stay through the weekend and enjoy the shows. Allie is certain to be a huge success.”

  “Thanks to Jenn and Trent.” I squeezed his hand.

  “We plan on it,” Dad said. “Since we’re here, we thought we’d stay the rest of the week and watch the shows and the other celebrations.”

  “There is going to be a big picnic in the park,” Jenn said. “I plan on having baskets catered and inviting our guests to picnic on the lawn or one of the great vantage sites for the fireworks.”

  “That’s a great idea. Picnics in the parks and fireworks can be so romantic.” Mom smiled at my father. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

  “I remember a few good ones,” Dad said with a wink.

  “Allie and I have a picnic date set,” Trent said. “Would you like to come with us?”

  “That might be fun,” Dad said.

  My eyes grew large as I looked from Dad to Mom. I’m certain that I sent Mom a look of please-don’t-come-on-my-date-with-me.

  “Thanks for the offer,” Mom said smoothly, but we have plans for the Fourth.”

  “We do?” Dad drew his eyebrows together.

  “Yes.” Mom raised her right eyebrow. “We do.”

  “Okay.”

  Frances stood and Mr. Devaney stood with her. “Well, it’s been quite the day. We should be getting home.”

  “We’ll see you in the morning,” Mr. Devaney said to me. He turned to my parents and shook their hands. “Nice to meet you both. You have a hardworking daughter. You should be proud.”

  I was surprised. Mr. Devaney was usually gruff and never gave out praise. It was nice to hear him say that.

  “We are proud,” my dad said. “Thanks for your help with the McMurphy. She’s getting up there in years so I know the daily list of things that need worked on.”

  “Gives me a reason to get up in the morning,” Mr. Devaney replied and then walked Frances out the door.

  Sandy stood next. “I’ve got to make it an early night. I’m making fudge at five AM tomorrow.”

  “I have a list of five recipes for tomorrow,” I said as she shook my parents’ hands.

  “I look forward to it.” Sandy turned to Mom and Dad, “Nice to meet you both.”

  “Well,” Mom said as we watched Sandy leave, “she is a very nice girl.” To Dad, she said, “And, dear, you should see what kind of miracles she works in chocolate.”

  “You’ve told me.” Dad stood. “We’ll leave you young ones to your night. I’m exhausted.”

  “I’ll ring Mike to come get your suitcases,” I said and reached for my cell phone.

  “Don’t bother.” Dad picked up the four suitcases, two stacked in each hand. “If you can get the door, honey, I’ll take care of these myself.”

  “Got it.” Mom kissed my cheek then went to the door and held it open for Dad. “Sweet dreams, Allie.”

  “Good night, Mom.”

  The door closed behind them and I heard them talking in the hall, their voices muffled. But I think Dad was telling Mom that I looked good . . . considering.

  I closed my eyes and rested my head against the back of the couch. Jenn got up and went to the kitchen. Trent sat down beside me and I tilted my head against his broad shoulder. Mal climbed up on the couch beside me.

  “Long day,” Trent said.

  “I should not be this tired,” I said. “I’ve done nothing but rest for almost all day.”

  “Your mom’s right,” Jenn said, coming back into the living room with a glass of ice tea in both hands. She handed me one and handed Trent the other. “You should see someone about the trauma.”

  “I think trying to impress Mrs. Amerson gave me more trauma than finding Rodney dead.”

  “Trauma is not something to ignore.” Trent rubbed my forearm, careful to stay away from the bandaged part.

  “Is this a conspiracy?” I asked and raised my head to look my boyfriend in the eye.

  He kissed me. It was a nice, slow, gentle kiss. “People care about you,” he said against my lips.

  I sighed and leaned into him. I could hear his steady heartbeat under my ear. “It’s embarrassing to have everyone in the room hear my mom tell me I need to see a shrink.”

  Jenn came around with her own glass of ice tea and settled sideways into the chair. “It’s not just Rodney. You’ve been through several traumas, including two explosions. It might not hurt for you to talk to someone about them before things get bad.”

  “You really mean it.” I frowned at her.

  “We both do.” Trent kissed the top of my head.

  I tried to sit up, but his arm kept me gently against him. “I’m not crazy.”

  “That’s why you should see someone,” he insisted. “Only a crazy person could go through what you have gone through since your grandfather died and not need to talk to a professional about it.”

  I wanted so badly to stick out my tongue at them both and flounce off in a huff, but I was tired and as much as I hated to hear it, I had begun to realize they might be right.

  Time to change the subject. “Rex wouldn’t tell me what happened with Henry Schulte,” I said, my thoughts tumbling to the first explosion. “Do we know why he killed Rodney?”

  “The official statement was simply that they had arrested Henry for the crime and that the evidence against him would be presented in court.” Jenn made a face. “Not very satisfying.”

  “No,” I agreed and wrinkled my brow. “I’d love to hear Liz’s take on it. Did Henry use Rodney’s threatening e-mails as a decoy to murder him? If so, why murder him here on Mackinac? Why not kill him someplace less dramatic. I mean, if I wanted it to seem like a professional murder, I wouldn’t have killed him in a warehouse on a small island, lit the fuse on a string of screaming chickens, and then blown up the fireworks inside.”

  “I see what you mean,” Jenn said, her expression puzzled.

  “Also, when he left me the last message, Rodney said that someone was messing with the fireworks and I swear he saw someone in the warehouse.”

  “He could have seen Henry,” Trent suggested.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I think he said something like ‘Hey, you. What are you doing here?’ Which means—”

  “He didn’t recognize whoever was in the warehouse with him,” Jenn finished my thought.

  “The two things may not be connected,” Trent said. “Anyone could have been in the warehouse before Henry killed Rodney.”

  “So why kill him here?” I asked again. “I mean, why not kill him someplace closer to home?”

  “Or why not wait and make it seem like an accident?” Jenn said. “If it was that premeditated, I think Henry could have thought out the murder better. I mean, what better way than to have the fireworks backfire and explode in Rodney’s face when he was doing a show? That makes more sense than using the death threats as a motive to throw the cops off his trail.”

  “Maybe that’s what Henry was doing in the warehouse when Rodney saw him,” Trent suggested. “Maybe Rodney caught Henry sabotaging the fireworks. Then Henry wouldn’t have had a choice. He would have had to kill Rodney then and there.”

  “Again, it goes back to Rodney not seeming to recognize the person he caught messing with the fireworks. Do we know what Rex thinks the motive is?” I asked.

  “Liz said something about issues with the accounts,” Jenn said. “That plus a ten million dollar life insurance policy are pretty good motives to me.”

  I bit my bottom lip. “Yes, I suppose I can see that. Thankfully, I nev
er saw Henry at the warehouse. I shouldn’t be called upon to testify, anyway.”

  “Speaking of witnessing crimes, did you see anyone at the scene of the fire?” Trent asked.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Rex asked me the same thing, but I didn’t. It was eerily quiet. That’s why I called 9-1-1 right away. I knew no one was home to call in the fire.”

  “So why start a fire and leave it?” Jenn tapped her lips then shrugged and got up. “We’re just talking in circles and it’s late. I think I’ll head to bed.” She poured the remains of her drink in the sink, rinsed her glass, and wiped her hands. “Don’t stay up too late, kids.” She winked at us. “Sweet dreams.”

  “Good night, Jenn.” Trent’s voice rumbled through his chest and comforted me.

  Mal slept beside me and for a moment, I drank in the warmth of being surrounded by love. “Thanks for being so nice to my parents. I know they can be a little strange sometimes.”

  Trent chuckled. “They’re good people. I’m glad they came up.”

  “But you didn’t have to invite them on our date.” I pouted.

  His chuckled deepened. “I was being polite.” He tilted my chin up so he could look me in the eye. “I like your folks, but I enjoy being with you. I figured it was better to invite them on our date than to miss out altogether because you wanted to spend time with them while they are here.”

  “Oh.”

  He kissed me then and the evening was perfect.

  Chapter 17

  Two days later, I felt better and excited for the holiday. July third dawned bright and beautiful. The whole island was gearing up for the celebrations to come. Mom and Dad came in from a morning walk with pink cheeks and sparkling eyes.

  “Did you have fun?” I asked.

  “Oh, my,” Mom said. “I forget how much fun the Fourth is here on Mackinac.”

  “We have one of the only two remaining all original Revolutionary War forts in America,” I said with pride. “They have so much going on. There’s a thirty-one gun salute and tomorrow there’s a picnic at the lawn at the foot of the fort catered by the Grand Hotel. Everyone will be there.”

  “If I remember right, doesn’t the fire department put on a shindig?” Dad asked and pushed the hair out of his eyes.

  “Yes, Mr. McMurphy,” Jenn said from her station at the reception desk. She was covering for Frances while the older woman ran some errands. “They host the Fun and Games at Windermere Point.”

  “Right,” Dad said with a fond smile. “They have the Greasy Pole Climb and old-fashioned sack races.”

  “The Ladies Auxiliary hosts a lemonade stand,” Sandy said as she leaned on the back of the candy counter. We had finished our first demonstration of the day. She had done the work, while I walked around telling the crowd the story of fudge making.

  It actually worked out well. I was able to cut off some small bites with my good hand and a stainless steel scraper. I passed them around to the delighted crowd and then took orders filling pink paper boxes with pounds of fudge. As much as I missed doing the work myself, I knew the McMurphy fudge was in good hands with Sandy.

  The crowds had dissipated after Mom and Dad came inside.

  “Do they still have a three-legged race?” Mom asked. “Honey, remember the time you and Allie tried the three-legged race?”

  “I think Dad cheated.” I smiled at the happy memory.

  “It wasn’t cheating,” he protested.

  “You picked me up and ran with me under your arm,” I pointed out.

  “Papa jumped the gun and had a three-stride lead,” Dad said. “As I saw it, the old man should not get to win. Besides, your leg moved with mine.”

  “If I remember right, you and Papa both tripped and Pat Keller and his son Marvin won that year,” Mom said, her eyes sparkling.

  “Papa tripped us,” my father grumbled. He went to the coffee bar and poured two fat cups of coffee. From the way he fixed them, I knew he filled one for Mom and one for himself.

  It made me smile to see the simple act of getting coffee for my mom. It meant that things were okay between them. My heart blossomed. After Mom’s last visit, I wasn’t sure how things were going, but watching Dad take her an unasked for cup of coffee with two creams and no sugar let me know that things were okay.

  “That sounds like something Liam would do,” Frances said as she came in through the back hallway. She let go of Mal’s leash. My puppy gathered it up and raced toward me to say hi.

  I bent down and patted Mal on the head. Then I gently took off her halter and leash. “There you go, little girl.” Thankfully, the clip leash was easy to work with my left hand.

  I stood. “I was reminding Mom and Dad of all the things going on around the island this week,” I said to Frances.

  She wore a long, comfy brown skirt with a red, white, and blue, long-sleeved blouse that was untucked, but pulled together with a brown belt that had a gold, star shaped buckle. “Always lot’s going on.”

  She waved Jenn away from her perch behind the receptionist desk. “The three nights of fireworks, which Allie put together, starts tonight. I recommend you take chairs and set them up in the schoolyard early. I was just by that way and people were already staking claim to the best spots.”

  “But the fireworks are twelve hours away,” Mom said, checking her watch.

  “There are some folding chairs in the basement,” I said. “If you hurry there might still be a few good spots left.”

  Dad nodded. “I’ll get on it.” He went to the basement.

  Mom looked from me to Frances. “Really? Twelve hours before?”

  “It gets crowded,” Frances said.

  “Do you stay there all day?” Mom asked. “Because if that’s what is happening, then I need to go up and make some picnic food for Allie’s dad.”

  “You can leave the chairs and blanket there,” Frances said. “People are good about respecting staked out spots.”

  “Until about seven PM. Then all bets are off.” Sandy turned from the counter to the dishes in the sink behind it.

  “Oh, good,” Mom said. “Two hours outside is much better than twelve hours.”

  “When was the last time you and Dad were here for the Star Spangled Fourth celebrations?” I searched my memory and didn’t recall them being there since I turned twelve.

  “It’s been forever,” Mom said. “Your father’s office has a mandatory company picnic on the Fourth.”

  “How did you get out of it this year?” Jenn asked as she grabbed her own coffee mug and draped her lanky body across one of the overstuffed chairs. Her dark hair floated over her shoulders in a soft cloud. She wore a pale blue sundress with cream-colored flowers sprinkled on it. It was pretty and went well with the thick blue and white stripes of the chair.

  “Allie being hurt was our excuse,” Mom said, her gaze going to my bandaged arm and my splinted thumb. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Really?” Mom narrowed her eyes. “You look a little pale.”

  “Sandy did all the work,” I said quickly.

  Jenn ratted me out. “But you have been working since five o’clock this morning.” She ignored my stink eye and sipped her coffee. “I’m just saying that it’s been five hours. You should sit down and take a break.”

  “Allie, sit down before you fall down,” Mom commanded and pointed to the pale pink chair that sat across from Jenn’s blue and white one.

  “I’m not going to fall down,” I muttered. Sulking, I scooted over to sit in the chair.

  Mom shook her head, her mouth flat and slightly down turned. “You almost died in an explosion three days ago. Don’t push it, young lady.”

  “It’s not like I’m going to cheat at a three-legged race,” I muttered. Still, I had to admit to myself that it felt good to sit and take the pressure off my legs.

  The McMurphy’s front door opened with the accompanying jingle of the bells attached it. I glanced over to see Liz walk in. Her curly hair was
put up in a messy bun. She wore tan peddle pusher shorts, a white tank top, and a green camp shirt with the tail hanging out over the top. “Hey kids, what’s shaking?” she asked with a big smile.

  “Someone’s happy,” I observed as she made her way to the coffee bar and poured herself a cup.

  “New boyfriend? Jenn asked. “Spill.”

  “I take it you know her,” my mom stage whispered to me. She was dressed in pressed blue jeans and a polo shirt in a lovely mint green. Her dark hair was perfect in its low bun at the nape of her neck.

  “Mom, this is Liz MacElroy. Liz, this is my mother, Ann McMurphy.” I waved my introductions.

  “Hi.” Liz came over with her coffee in her left hand and shook my mom’s hand with her right.

  “Liz works with her grandfather Angus at the Town Crier,” I added.

  “Oh,” Mom said. “I remember Angus as a nice fellow—a little nosey but nice.”

  “Mom!”

  Liz laughed and sat on the arm of Jenn’s chair. “It’s okay. He is nosey. So am I, I suppose.” She sipped her drink. “It’s what makes us good journalists. If we weren’t nosey, there’d never be investigative journalism.”

  “So, who’s the guy?” Jenn asked, her blue eyes crinkling.

  “No guy,” Liz said. “But I may have solved the arson problem.”

  “Really?” I sat up straight. “Who? How? Did you tell Rex?”

  Liz put her hand up in a stop motion. “I said, I may have solved them. Remember, Rex doesn’t want theories. You can’t prosecute theories.”

  “What is your theory?” I asked.

  Dad came through the basement door. “Got four chairs, a tarp, and a blanket.” He grinned. His arms were full of rolled up bundles. “Do you think we’ll need more?”

  “Do you think a tarp is necessary?” Mom moved toward him. “How can we see the fireworks if we have a tarp over us?”

  “The tarp is for the picnic,” Dad said, his face darkening a bit. We can tear it down after the sun sets.”