All You Need Is Fudge

by Nancy CoCo

  “She must have smelled the body.”

  “Something,” I agreed. “When I saw the girl floating, she was faceup. I thought maybe she was swimming. Then I noticed how pale she was. I called out, but she didn’t answer.”

  “And?”

  “And I jumped in. I didn’t think about it much. I thought she needed help. I was a lifeguard in high school and instinct kicked in. I put my arm around her torso and swam to the wall. When I could stand, I put my hands under her arms and pulled her over the wall. It’s harder than you’d think.”

  His blue gaze twinkled. “I know. I’m still trying to picture how you did it.”

  “Honestly? I sat on the wall and grabbed her and pulled. When I got her up high enough, I scooted back. I was able to bring her far enough onto the grass that I knew she had solid earth beneath her. Then I used my palms to push water out of her lungs, but it didn’t help.”

  “She was dead.”

  “Yes.” I pushed my slowly drying hair out of my face. “When I realized she was stiff, I took out my phone and called 9-1-1.”

  He tilted his head and drew his eyebrows together. “Didn’t your cell phone get wet?”

  “Yeah,” I said and lifted it up. “But it’s waterproof. You know I’m pretty clumsy and have a tendency to answer my cell phone when I’m in the bathtub.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, I know.”

  I felt the heat of embarrassment rush up my cheeks, but worked to ignore it. “Jenn made me buy one of those waterproof, cell phone covers. I can’t take the phone diving, but it will survive getting wet.”

  Thankfully, Jen had come up for the summer to help me manage my first season at the McMurphy. My Papa Liam was supposed to be here to train me, but earlier this year, he’d gone nose down while playing cards at the senior center and they hadn’t been able to revive him. Jenn came up to fill the void. She was actually better at making friends on the island than I was. All in all, she took good care of me.

  “Huh,” Rex said. “It’s a good thing, then, I guess.”

  “Yes.”

  “Mal seems relatively dry,” he pointed out.

  I made a face. “She didn’t follow me into the water. She stayed on the pier and barked. Then she raced over here when I managed to pull the girl up on land.”

  “Smart dog.”

  “Should we call Shane?” I asked. Shane Carpenter was the local CSI guy who also happened to be dating Jenn. I liked to think that I was the one who introduced them. In fact, if the relationship worked out in the long run, I would claim that it was all my doing.

  “Charlene already did. The body has clues,” Rex said. “He’ll want to know the water temperature and see what else is floating in the water. And he may need those clothes you’re wearing.”

  “Oh, right.” I glanced down at my dress and leggings. My white Keds were gray from water. “Wait. Is it okay to move the body?” I pointed at the guy holding the stretcher. It was folded up so that you couldn’t see the wheels. A body bag was on the ground beside the body and open, ready for them to roll her onto it.

  “You pulled her out of the water so she has already been moved,” Rex pointed out. “I don’t want to leave her out here for gawkers.” His eyebrows were drawn together and his mouth rested in a flat line. He was a handsome man and had two ex-wives to prove it. His hands were large, square and efficient as he did a simple check of the body. He motioned for the EMTs to bring over the stretcher. “You said she was faceup in the water?”

  “Yes. It seems weird, right? I mean usually when you think of dead bodies in the water you imagine them facedown.”

  “Sure.” He eyed the surrounding area and made notes on his notepad. “Maybe she was dead when she hit the water and floated up.”

  “Maybe.” I watched as they rolled the dead woman over carefully, inspecting her back for contusions or anything else that might tell us whether it was a simple drowning or something more sinister before they would tuck her into the body bag and roll her onto the stretcher.

  Gail Hall from the coffee shop walked down from the pier with her hands full of coffees in a paper carrier. “You guys look like you could use some strong coffee.”

  Mal stood on her hind legs to greet Gail.

  “Sorry pup. No coffee for you.” Gail was tall and large-boned and wore her dark brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She handed coffee to the first responders as they stood around a moment to take in the scene. Squatting down by me, she patted Mal on the head with her free hand while handing me a coffee with her other hand. Remnants of black paint covered her cuticles.

  “I saw you jump into the lake,” she said, her brown eyes filled with concern. “You gave me quite a scare. I had no idea what you were doing. I thought maybe you’d finally had enough of island life and I’d have to come out and get you.” She tilted her head. “I wasn’t looking forward to jumping into the lake myself, so I called 9-1-1.”

  “Oh,” was all I could say in answer. I sipped the coffee. “That’s why Charlene knew it was me when I called.”

  Gail nodded. “Yeah. I saw you pulling someone out of the water. I would have come out sooner, but I had to wait for Emily to get in to cover the shop.”

  “You look like you were painting.” I pointed at her hands.

  “Spray paint,” she said and rubbed at the spots. “This is from last night. I’ve been painting an old dresser. Gotta love the do-it-yourself look. Mine is a bit worse than what you see the pros do on TV.” She paused and watched as they zipped the woman up in the black body bag. “It’s weird to think you could be painting a dresser one day and dead the next. Just like her.” She turned to me. “How did you know she was there?”

  “Mal,” I replied and pointed at my dog. “She’s got a good sniffer.”

  “She smelled her from the pier?”

  “Yes. Crazy, right?”

  “Right. Creepy to think some girl was floating dead a few feet from my shop and I didn’t know it. Any idea who she is? I couldn’t see from the shop.”

  “Ladies, no details until I get your stories.” Rex drew his dark eyebrows together in a look of concern.

  “Right.” Gail stood. “I’ve got to get back.”

  “I’ll be in the coffee shop in a few,” Rex said. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  She smiled. “You’re welcome. Take care, Allie.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  We watched her walk back to the coffee shop. She was probably ten years older than me—so in her mid to late thirties—and pretty in her black slacks and navy-blue top.

  Rex squatted down beside me and absently patted Mal as he looked out over the crowded marina. More people had begun to emerge from the boats to prep for a day of sailing. “Do you know who you pulled out of the lake?”

  “No,” I said with a shake of my head. “I sort of recognize her, though. Is she a local?”

  “Yeah.” He looked at me. “Carin Moore. Her family’s been on the island for generations. They’re members of the yacht club. In fact, see that big yacht—third one down on the more expensive pier?”

  I glanced across the boats. “The one that says Daddy’s Girl on the side?”

  “Yes,” Rex said with a short nod. “That’s her family’s boat.”

  “You said she might have been faceup because she was dead when she hit the water.” I chewed on my bottom lip. “Do you think she was killed on the boat and pushed in?”

  “I’m not going to speculate,” Rex said.

  “She had a nice cocktail dress on.” I closed my eyes as I pictured the color-blocked silk dress. “I bet it was designer.” I paused and looked at Rex. “She wasn’t very old, was she?”

  “She’s around your age,” he replied. “She was in Paige Jessop’s class in school.”

  “Oh.” I hugged the blanket around me. “I don’t know why, but it’s worse when someone your age ends up dead.”

  “Yeah,” Rex said, his mouth firm.

  “I tried to save her,” I said, clin
ging to the coffee cup as if it would make things right. The EMTs hefted the full body bag onto the stretcher and pulled it toward the ambulance.

  “It was too late,” he said, his tone low and soothing. “We’re going to need your clothes. Shane will be here soon. He’ll probably want to take samples from your hair and your nails and such.”

  “Right.” I made a face. “I should be used to this by now. But I’m not.” I looked at Rex. “Finding all these bodies, I feel like I have really bad timing. I mean an hour later and someone else would have found her. You know?”

  “Maybe you have good timing. Maybe the killers have bad timing.”

  I sent him a half smile. “Thanks, but I don’t think there’s anyone on the island who believes that.” Sipping my coffee to try to get warm, I watched them place the stretcher in the ambulance.

  George waved as they headed around to the front of the vehicle. I lifted my hand in a short wave.

  “You said you left around six AM,” Rex said. “Did you go out the back and down the alley or out the front?”

  “We walked out the front because Frances had come in already to watch the desk,” I said.

  “Did you see anyone?”

  I drew my eyebrows together. “No, it was too early. Most of the shop owners don’t even think about coming in until seven. I think I saw a pair of joggers go by, but I didn’t recognize them. They were probably tourists.”

  “So, only a pair of joggers? Did you walk on the fort side or the harbor side of Main?”

  “Mal and I walked down the fort side toward the marina. I crossed at the lawn in front of the fort because I thought it would be nice to see all the boats that have come in for the weekend yacht race.” My gaze went to the boats. People were out starting up motors, taxiing out of the marina or raising sails, hopping on the dock to untie the boat, then hopping back on as the boats left the marina and headed out to the lake. “Is it okay that they leave?”

  Rex looked at the busy docks. “There’s not much I can do without a warrant. They’ll be back tonight for tomorrow’s race.” He turned back to me. “Did you see anyone on the pier? On any boats?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said with a shake of my head. “I don’t remember seeing anyone. I remember thinking the flowers in the flower beds along the walk were lovely when Mal stopped to do her business. I remember listening to the waves lap against the boats and thinking it would be a nice sound to go to sleep to. I wondered if I should save up for a boat. Not a yacht. There’s no way I could afford that. Do you have a boat?”

  “A fishing boat. I sold my sailing boat.”

  I blinked at the thought of Rex sailing. I suppose when you grow up on an island, you learn about boats pretty fast. Just another thing I missed by growing up in Detroit.

  “You were walking by the boats . . .”

  “Right. Like I said, I saw the coffee shop and thought I’d get Frances some scones. We walked up the coffee shop side of the pier and were almost there when Mal tugged me over to the edge. She wouldn’t go any farther. Sometimes she can be stubborn. I went over to see what she was sniffing at, looked down, and saw the woman in the water. The rest you know.”

  Mal barked and raced off. I glanced after her and saw Officer Brown heading our way. He was a nice guy, younger than Rex, less rugged, but still built like a gym rat. Mal greeted him with a happy bark.

  “I’m going to have Charles walk you over to the clinic,” Rex said. “It’ll be easier for Shane to collect evidence without a crowd.” He helped me up. “We’ll contact Jenn and see if she can bring you clean clothes.”

  “Okay. It’s weird, right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Finding that girl in the marina,” I said with a shrug. “Managing to get her on the grass and then having to be looked over like a piece of evidence.”

  “I’m sorry, Allie. It’s a heck of a way to start a day.”

  “It seems to be the pattern to my summer. What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to go check out the Moores’ yacht, then see Gail, and after that try to get more people out here to talk to the boaters. Someone saw something.”

  “What about Carin’s family?”

  “When I get a positive ID, I’ll go over with the bad news.”

  “What if they’re on the boat? I mean won’t they wonder why you’re checking out their yacht?”

  “Go with Charles,” Rex said. “Leave the investigation to me. Okay?”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “Good.” Rex handed me off to Officer Brown. “See that she’s checked out. She’s bleeding.”

  I looked down to see blood dripping down my arm from a long scratch that must have happened when I climbed up on shore.

  “I’ll take good care of her.” Officer Brown’s dark green gaze filled with concern as he wrapped his big, warm hand around my elbow. “Come on, Allie. Let’s get you to the clinic.”

  Mal barked her agreement.

  Officer Brown had Mal’s leash in his hand and it was the first time I realized that I hadn’t had Mal’s leash since I jumped into the water. Thankfully, she was a good puppy and hadn’t left me. I gave Frances a quick call to come get Mal and to have Jenn bring me a bag of clean clothes. Frances had been right when she gave Mal to me. I did need someone to look out for me. Then again, my life wouldn’t have been half as exciting without Mal nosing out dead bodies.

  It made me wonder what kind of clues she’d find next.

  Coconut Caramel Fudge

  Ingredients

  1½ cups granulated sugar

  1½ cups packed dark brown sugar

  1 cup half and half

  3 tablespoons dark corn syrup

  1 stick butter plus 1½ teaspoon butter for pan

  prep

  2 teaspoons vanilla extract

  1 cup coconut (toasted)

  ½ cup caramel sauce

  Directions

  Prepare an 8- x 2-inch pan by lining it with aluminum foil. Butter the foil with 1½ teaspoon butter.

  In a large heavy-bottomed saucepan, combine the sugars, the half and half, and the corn syrup over medium heat. Stir until the sugars dissolve.

  Insert a candy thermometer (ensure it does not touch the bottom or sides of the pan) and bring to a boil, stirring occasionally. Allow the mixture to boil, stirring frequently, until it reaches 238 degrees F on a candy thermometer. This takes approximately 10 minutes. (I set the timer to help understand how long it takes for the temperature to reach this point.)

  Remove from heat. Take out the thermometer and stir in the butter and vanilla.

  Stir the fudge vigorously with a heavy wooden spoon, stirring constantly for 10-15 minutes until the fudge loses its shine and holds its shape.

  Pour fudge into the prepared pan and smooth into an even layer. Sprinkle with toasted coconut.

  Place caramel sauce in a plastic sandwich bag, clip one corner, and use it as a pastry bag. Ribbon the caramel sauce over the coconut in diagonals.

  Refrigerate the fudge for at least 1 hour.

  Once set, remove the fudge from the pan using the foil as handles. Cut the fudge into small 1-inch pieces to serve.

  Store fudge in an airtight container at room temperature for up to one week.

  Chapter 2

  The problem with touching a dead body is that the police liked to take your clothing into evidence. That might have been fine the first time, but with my limited wardrobe and perchance for finding bodies it was getting expensive.

  “Bringing you clothes seems to be a big part of my job,” Jenn said as she handed me a paper bag.

  “You love it. The more clothes I lose to evidence the more you can shop online for me.” I dug out fresh underwear, shorts, and a T-shirt and ducked behind the curtain in the clinic room where I’d been checked out and given a couple of stitches on my forearm. “You know how much I hate to clothes shop.”

  “That’s why you have me as your personal shopper.” She laughed and followed me in,
sitting on the exam couch. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who doesn’t like to shop.”

  “Clothes judge me,” I groused. “Food on the other hand never judges. I can grocery shop all day.”

  “What a weirdo,” she teased.

  “You have to admit that things are never dull around me.” I quickly changed into clean clothes and dropped my wet leggings and shirt into an evidence bag.

  “I can’t believe you actually jumped into the water and pulled out a dead body.” Jenn sat with her hands on her narrow hips. Long legged, tall, and gorgeous, she wore crisp linen slacks and a flowing peasant blouse with embroidered flowers along the drawstring front. Her dark hair was pulled back into a neat chignon and she wore gorgeous sandals. Jenn looked ready for brunch at the country club, mostly because that was what she was doing later in the morning.

  “I wasn’t sure if she was dead or not when I jumped in,” I pointed out as I struggled to put on my wet shoes. My hair was nearly dry and still tangled in bits of lake flotsam. Jenn handed me a comb and I attacked my hair. “I’ve forgotten how hard it is to swim in regular clothes and drag a non-responsive person to shore.”

  “Ugh. I remember that training in lifeguard class,” Jenn said as her expression went from one of exasperation to one of condolences. “At least she didn’t try to drown you. Did they struggle against you when you took your test?”

  “Yes.” I remembered taking the class. My teacher Mr. Metzger wanted to be sure we were prepared for all situations. He’d told us to be prepared to save him as he struggled like a drowning person. “My instructor was also the football coach so he was 200 pounds of pure muscle. He over did the panic thing, if you ask me. I have no idea how I passed that test, but I did.”

  “Ha. My instructor refused to get wet. She set up seniors in stations to enact drowning by struggle and dead weight,” Jenn said. “I remember my struggle guy was Ryan Wiltz. He had a thing for me so he barely wiggled while I got my arm under his shoulders and swam to the edge of the pool.” She sighed. “He was so sexy.”