by Nancy CoCo
I went upstairs to get ready for my picnic when there was a knock at the back door. Mal raced to the door barking. I peered out to see Trent standing there. “You’re early,” I said as I opened the door.
The man was drop dead gorgeous in his turquois polo shirt, khaki shorts, and deck shoes.
“I brought you a present,” he said with a smile on his face. He brought a cat carrier out from behind his back.
Mal stood on her hind legs to smell the carrier. The cat inside was bored by her aerobatics.
“Is that the kitty?” I asked and peered inside to see the beautiful dark eyes of the calico cat.
“Yes.” He set the carrier on the breakfast bar to be at eye level. “She is healthy and caught up on her shots.”
“She is wearing a cone,” I noted.
“She has been spayed and must be kept quiet for a few days.”
“Oh, dear. Quiet does not really happen around here.” Mal was pawing at my leg to get a closer look. “Do I . . . can I take her out of the carrier?”
“Let’s leave her in there while we go on our picnic.”
I filled the water holder that hung on the outside of the carrier. The water holder’s mouth was metal with a bead inside that when pushed aside the water would be accessible but not drip on the cat. “Does she need to eat?”
“I have some kibble,” Trent said and pulled a small baggie out of his pocket. He poured the kibble into a tiny feeder.
“What am I going to do with her? I can’t have a cat in the fudge shop.” I waggled my fingers in the carrier and scratched the top of her head. “But she is so pretty.”
“I thought you said you were going to see if Oliver would take her.”
“As long as Oliver isn’t our bomber,” I said with a sigh.
Trent drew his eyebrows together. “You really think he might be?”
“No. I can’t imagine that boy hurting anyone. I know he’s a bit moody, but all teenagers are and he’s dealing with his parents fighting and their divorce.”
“Let’s give the kitty some time to recoup and Rex time to find the bomber before we worry about what to do with her, okay?”
“Okay.” I gave Trent a hug. “Thank-you for catching her and getting her to the vet and taking good care of her.”
He hugged me back and gave me a nice kiss. “It was my pleasure,” he said a few inches from my lips. “I know that you were worried about her.”
“I was. I hate to see a beautiful animal lost and homeless. Mal was worried, too. Weren’t you Mal?”
She barked.
Trent shook his head with a smile. “Mal thinks she’s going to get a treat. Isn’t that right Mal?”
Mal barked.
We both laughed.
I got a small treat off the counter and made Mal do her tricks before I let her have the treat. Then I picked up the cat carrier. “I’ll put her in a nice quiet spot.” I moved her to the corner of the living room with a view outside. “Wait. What about a litter box?”
The door to the apartment opened and Jenn walked in. “Oh, is that our kitty?” She made a beeline to the carrier.
“Yes,” I said. “Trent had her spayed and she needs to be quiet for a few days.”
“Hi baby.” Jenn opened the carrier and pulled the coned cat out and held her carefully. She looked accusingly at me. “You weren’t going to leave her in that carrier were you?”
“I thought it would keep her safe and quiet.”
“With no access to a litter box?” Jenn frowned at me.
I winced. “I’m a bad cat mother.”
Mal was up on her hind legs sniffing at Jenn to let her see the cat. The cat on the other hand watched Mal with disdain. Her tail twitched ever so slightly. Then suddenly, she smacked Mal on the nose.
“Hey!” I said.
Mal dropped to all fours.
Jenn laughed and held the cat close and scratched her behind the ears. “I guess you told her who was boss. Do we have a name for the cat?”
“I thought I would leave that to Oliver.”
“Oliver?” Jenn looked at me confused.
“I can’t keep a cat.” I stuck my hands in the pockets of my black cotton pedal pushers. My white sailor top with black trim floated around my shoulders. “It isn’t safe with the hot sugar in the fudge shop. So I asked Cyndy if Oliver would like to have a pet.”
“Oliver, the skulking boy next door?” Jenn asked. “That Oliver?”
“Yes. He’s going through some tough times and he needs a pet. Cyndy said she thought he would like to have a cat.”
Jenn petted the cat as it curled up contented in her lap. “Good luck with that. You can’t just give a cat away. Cats choose you or they don’t. I think this one has chosen you.”
“Looks like she prefers you,” Trent pointed out.
Jenn laughed. “I do love cats.” She picked up the cat and squished it next to her face. “And you’re such a pretty kitty, aren’t you? Yes, you are.”
Mal came over by me and whined. It was my turn to laugh. “Mal says you can’t love on someone else without including her.”
The cat looked pleased that it clearly had an advantage in the household.
Jenn and Trent laughed.
“New sister problems,” Trent said.
“We can’t get too attached,” I said, my tone firm. “It would be dangerous for a cat in the fudge shop. I won’t see any animals hurt.”
“You could just keep her in the apartment,” Jenn suggested.
“How fair is that?” I argued. “We let Mal roam the place.”
Mal did a little twirl to show that she knew I was talking about her.
“No, the best thing is to find her a new home.”
“Let’s hope Oliver thinks the same thing.” Jenn rubbed the cat’s head. “Let’s hope.”
Lemon Meringue Fudge
½ cup butter, melted; plus 1 teaspoon to prep pan (coconut oil is a good nondairy substitute)
¼ cup milk (almond milk is a good nondairy substitute)
1 3.4 ounce package of lemon instant pudding and pie filling
1 teaspoon vanilla
6 cups powdered sugar, sifted
Butter 8x8x2-inch cake pan.
Mix butter, milk, unprepared instant pudding, and vanilla. Add powdered sugar 1 cup at a time until you reach the desired thickness.
Scoop into prepared pan. Pat until smooth. Score into 1-inch pieces with butter knife.
Refrigerate for 2-3 hours until set.
Break into 1-inch pieces along score and serve in individual paper candy cups or on a platter. Store leftovers in covered container in the refrigerator.
Enjoy!
Chapter 24
Trent and I found a quiet shaded spot in Great Turtle Park. I rested on the blanket we brought and he rested his head on my stomach. Mal cuddled near us.
“You’re not relaxing.” Trent’s deep voice rumbled through my body. “We had a nice meal, shared a bottle of good wine, and have the best lazy day company ever. You should be more relaxed.”
I pillowed my head on my crossed arms. “I keep thinking about yesterday’s bombs.” I reached down and stroked his dark hair. “I almost lost you. If the bomber had been successful, I would have lost you and Mal and my parents and the McMurphy all in one day.” My breath caught in my chest.
Trent rolled over to look me in the eye. “You didn’t lose anyone. That’s why we’re here now . . . to celebrate life and to enjoy the holiday.”
“But the bomber is still out there.”
“Rex is on it.” Trent took my hand in his. “It’s a small island. He’ll find the person who did this.” He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. It was a sweet, soft, perfect moment.
Mal jumped up and barked, drawing our attention.
We both laughed at how bad her timing was.
“What is it, girl?” Trent asked.
Mal tugged on her leash, her tail bob wagging.
“Don’t let her go,” I said. “Mayb
e she saw a squirrel.”
“Is it a squirrel, Mal?” Trent rested on his elbow, his hand on my stomach.
Mal stood and pirouetted.
I raised my head. “She usually only does that when she wants to impress someone she knows.”
A sudden shriek and a pop sounded as a screaming chicken firework shot our way.
“What the heck!” Trent sat up fast as a second and a third and a fourth screaming chicken pierced the air.
I sat up and Mal jumped into my lap. The noisy fireworks scared her and made her shiver.
“Stop it. You’re scaring the dog!” I shouted.
Trent got up. “Stay here.” He rushed off.
I heard someone take off in the brush and Trent followed. The scent of fire caught my attention.
“Oh, no.” I stood and held Mal to my heart. She barked and wagged her tail. Scanning the woods, I looked for the fire. I tried to tell myself it was simply a picnic bonfire, but the way my week had been going I knew better.
Screaming chickens were found on Rodney’s body. It was all connected. “Trent?” I called.
I heard nothing. Mal shivered against me. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed 9-1-1.
“9-1-1. This is Charlene. Please state your emergency.”
“Hi Charlene. This is Allie McMurphy.”
“Please tell me you have not found another dead person.” Charlene sounded pained.
“No, as far as I know there is no dead person.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” Charlene was verbally relived. “What is your emergency?”
“This is going to sound stupid. . . .”
“Honey, nothing you say anymore sounds stupid.”
“Thanks, I think. We are picnicking in Great Turtle Park and were attacked.”
“Oh, that’s not good. What exactly is going on?”
“Someone threw lit fireworks at us.” That sounded much more of an emergency than screaming chickens. “Trent ran after whoever did it and now I smell fire.”
“Okay,” Charlene said. “I’m sending out a patrolman. Do you see the fire? I don’t want to call the fire department away from their fun day in the park if you smell fire and it turns out to be a campfire.”
“I understand. No, I don’t see fire.”
“Then it sounds like a vandal. I’m sure Trent will catch the miscreant.”
I swallowed as I glanced through the woods. “What if it’s related to yesterday’s bombing?” It was a question I had to ask.
“Let’s think this through, dear,” Charlene said. “Why would a bomber attack you with fireworks? Wouldn’t they attack with a bomb?”
“I suppose.” I glanced around. “I still smell fire and Trent is not back yet.”
“I promise I’ve sent patrolmen out your way. Officer Brown should be there on his bike soon. Okay, honey?”
I began to feel foolish. Maybe I had misjudged. After all, screaming chickens were not bombs. “Okay. Thank-you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I hung up the phone. “Trent?” I moved away from the blanket and picnic basket toward the woods where he had disappeared. “Trent?”
Mal barked, startling me. A loud crunching sound came from the bushes to my right. Trent strode out of the brush, dragging a tall skinny kid by his collar.
“Oh, my goodness.” I put my hand on my heart. “You scared me. Who? Sherman?”
Sherman Archibald sulked as Trent dragged him to me.
“I caught him with his pockets full of screaming chickens,” Trent said.
“Sherman, why?” I asked.
The kid shrugged. His oversized green T-shirt barely moved with the gesture.
I looked at Trent. “I thought I smelled fire.”
It was then I noticed the smirk that flashed over Sherman’s face. I looked at the kid instead of Trent. “Sherman, you started another fire, didn’t you? Where is it?”
“You’re so smart. You find it.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans. His hair fell into his eyes and I saw a glint of anger and defiance.
“Okay. I smell it, too.” Trent handed me Sherman. “Watch the kid. I’ll hunt it down.”
“It can’t be far.” I put Mal down. “Take Mal. She might help you find it.”
“Stupid dog.” Sherman moved as if to kick her.
I yanked hard on his collar. “Knock it off!” I pushed him down. “Sit. Stay! Officer Brown is on his way.”
“You can’t prove anything,” Sherman said.
“Oh, we know a lot more than you think.”
Trent and Mal went racing off into the woods.
“I think you’ll have a lot of explaining to do when Officer Brown gets here.”
“Let my kid go!”
I turned to see Luke Archibald standing a few feet from me with what looked like a bomb in his hand. I blinked. That couldn’t be a bomb. I mean, who holds a bomb in their hand? “Luke, are you okay? Is someone making you do this?”
“I said, let my kid go.” Luke sounded calm. His eyes were a little glassy. He wore painters pants streaked with paint and a green T-shirt that matched Sherman’s.
I raised my hands to show that I wasn’t holding Sherman any more. “Luke, you need to put that thing down.”
It was a glass bottle with what looked like nails and screws and shards of glass surrounded by a greenish powder. The top was wired with an ignition button, which Luke held his thumb over.
“Sherman, walk away,” Luke said.
“Aw, Dad. I want to see you blow her up. I missed it when you blew the other guy up.”
“Sherman, walk away,” Luke said again, his voice stern and far off.
“Wait. You killed Rodney Rivers?” I asked. “Why, Luke? Did you know him?”
“He was going to call the cops on Sherman.”
I glanced at the boy. “You were the one who sabotaged the warehouse.”
“I wanted to see how it would blow,” Sherman said with a fire in his eyes. “Those rich people treat us like dirt. I wanted to see what would happen if their world got messed with.” He smiled and shrugged. “They get scared, just like us little people. They get scared like you are right now.”
“I don’t understand.” I turned to Luke. “You knew Sherman was starting fires?”
“I suspected. I followed him the day of the warehouse explosion. That pyro guy was going to turn my kid in to the authorities.”
“So you killed him?”
“We had a disagreement.” Luke’s thumb wavered over the button.
“Dad hit the guy so hard he went down, boom,” Sherman said, using his hands to mimic the moment.
“You panicked and decided to blow up the warehouse to hide the body,” I said.
“You can’t prove any of that,” Luke said. “Now, Sherman tell the nice lady good-bye and go home.”
“Oh, man.” Sherman stomped his foot. “I want to see her vaporize.”
“Do as I tell you or I’ll vaporize you,” Luke said. His eyes narrowed.
“Fine.” Sherman shoved his hands in his pockets again and walked toward the path.
“Keep going!” Luke said.
“I’m going,” Sherman grumbled and disappeared.
“You can’t just blow me up,” I said, my hands in the air. “People will know. Trent knows about Sherman. I called Charlene. Officer Brown is on his way. Too many people know, Luke.” I saw him thinking. “You didn’t build that bomb, did you? Sherman built it and you thought you would commit suicide.”
“He’s not a bad kid,” Luke said. “He’s just a little screwed up.”
“Committing suicide and taking me with you is not the answer.”
“Please. Everyone will assume I did it all. Trust me, people are quick to judge. I saw how you were putting that on your arson board. I saw that you were lining up my paint jobs with the arsons. Officer Manning will think it was me and Sherman will be free.”
“Sherman will never be free. He will go on making bombs. No matter how s
mart he is, he’ll be caught, eventually. You know that, Luke. You know that he likes people to know what he can do. For all you know, he’s watching in the wings right now.”
“I told him to go home.” Luke started to shake. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
“He’s a teen. Do you really think he did what you said?”
“He did what I said.” Luke was determined to be right.
“You really want the last time your kid sees you is when you press that button? Really?” My heart was racing. All the spit in my mouth dried up. I kept talking, hoping beyond hope that Officer Brown would show up.
“Sherman, you better not be out there,” Luke hollered. “Answer me straight up, boy, if you are.”
Silence.
“I think that’s our answer,” Luke said. “I hate to have to hurt you, but I can’t let anyone harm my kid.”
“Luke, seriously. He’s building bombs. Do you think he’ll stop?”
“He’ll stop. And now it’s time for you to stop.”
His thumb moved and I instinctively ducked. Nothing happened. I glanced up and he stood there with confusion on his face. He hit the button again. Nothing.
I was not hanging around for a third try. I spun on my heel and ran as fast as I could away from him.
“No!” he shouted and started after me.
My heart pounded in my ears, blocking all sound but my own strangled breathing. Brush hit my face and arms as I tore through the woods. I was not going to look back like the girls in the movies who always got caught.
My red Keds covered the ground nicely as I tore past the Turtle Park sign and ran right into Officer Brown.
“Whoa,” he said and grabbed me. “What’s going on?”
I heard a sickening thunk of glass hitting stone and ducked as the blast wave rose up from the woods behind me.
“Holy Moses!” Officer Brown said as he ducked with me, putting his bulletproof vest between me and the explosion. He hit the radio on his shoulder. “Charlene, we need the fire department to Great Turtle Park ASAP. There’s been some kind of an explosion.”