Hot Fudge Fraud

by Anisa Claire West

  “Thanks Dad. I’m going to run in and get my things. It shouldn’t take me too long. I haven’t even unpacked most of my stuff.” Melanie climbed out of the truck and scoped out the living room, relieved to see that neither Chloe nor Lynne was at home.

  Reaching her bedroom, she was tempted to indulge in one more view of the majestic Atlantic Ocean. But she resisted, convincing herself that one day she would have an even lovelier view of the water---from a place that was all her own. Scooping her cosmetics and hair products up, she haphazardly crammed everything into her suitcases. Her clothes would be a wrinkled mess when she unpacked them, but she couldn’t concern herself with such trivialities now.

  “I’m so glad they didn’t make me sign a lease,” she mumbled, grabbing some cash from her purse and leaving it in an envelope on the kitchen table.

  Without looking behind her, Melanie exited the house and stuffed her luggage alongside Sunny in the truck. “Let’s go,” she sighed as her father shifted gears into drive.

  “Should we go drop your things off at home? Or do you want to go straight to the police station?” Mr. Bradley inquired with as much gentleness as he could muster.

  “I’m beyond exhausted, but I have to go to the police station first. I won’t be able to sleep until I know Daisy is being held accountable for what she did to Hot Fudge Fancy,” Melanie answered glumly.

  “Whatever you say, sweetheart. Just be careful when you’re carrying out this plan. I don’t like the idea of you being alone with that crazy girl.”

  “I’m not afraid of her. She’s a coward. That’s why she set my store on fire when no one was there. I’m the one in control now,” she emphasized with a soupçon of vindictiveness in her usually sweet as molasses voice.

  “Just be careful,” Mr. Bradley reiterated.

  Eager to change the subject, Melanie asked casually, “What did you think of Detective Graydon?”

  “Very competent. Professional. She impressed me a lot,” came his informal reply.

  “And she was pretty, don’t you think?”

  Mr. Bradley chuckled and asked, “What kind of question is that, young lady?”

  Grinning, Melanie said, “Well, I just sensed a little spark between you two. When she mentioned her sons, I felt like she was flirting with you,” Melanie confessed.

  “That wasn’t flirting. That was just two parents understanding each other,” he argued.

  “I disagree. And I didn’t see a wedding band on her finger. Maybe she’s divorced,” Melanie persisted.

  “And so what if she is? What are you suggesting?”

  “That you ask her out!” Melanie replied bluntly. “You’ve been lonely for so long, Dad.”

  “How can you even think about my love life at a time like this?”

  “You know I have strange ways of coping. Always have,” she shrugged. “So how about it? Will you ask her out to dinner?”

  “I don’t know…the way she spoke, she sounded so educated. I only have a high school diploma. She probably went to college and all,” Mr. Bradley protested.

  “Those are just excuses to keep you alone, Dad,” she said softly.

  “I know it. You’re right,” he replied, switching on the radio to his favorite oldies station.

  “Okay, tune me out. But I think you and Stacey Graydon would make an adorable couple. And the only way for you to find out if I’m right about that is to ask her out!” Melanie shouted over the Rolling Stones song.

  “I hear you. Let me do things my way, though,” he said stubbornly as Melanie nodded with a grin.

  She knew she had gotten through to him on some level. Maybe he wasn’t ready to fully accept the veracity of her points right now, but his heart had opened a crack. And she was going to keep knocking on that frosted over heart until it finally warmed to the idea of falling in love again.

  *****

  Daisy’s Frozen Delights was located next to a sketchy alleyway and hidden from the main shopping area of King Street. Melanie shivered, realizing why she had never noticed the hole-in-the-wall store before. It seemed odd for a southern belle from old money to have her storefront in such a shabby location. Adjusting her earpiece and checking that the portable audio system was functioning, Melanie strode into the shop.

  “I’m closing in 10 minutes,” a shrill voice announced from behind the counter.

  This must be Daisy. What the hell did Keith see in her? Daisy’s hair was drab, thin, and an artificial shade of burgundy. Her nose was slightly upturned like a pig snout, and her lips were covered in gloppy fudge. In her hand, she held a melting fudgsicle while she pierced Melanie with an impatient look. But there wasn’t the faintest hint of recognition in her eyes. She doesn’t even know what I look like, Melanie realized. This woman burned my business to the ground without knowing anything about me other than the fact that I’m dating her ex-boyfriend. Was dating her ex-boyfriend, she corrected gloomily.

  Straightening her posture, Melanie reminded herself of the police officer’s explicit instructions. Act normally at first. Just pretend to be a regular customer. Then, once her guard is down, go in for the kill and get her confession on audio.

  “What can I get for you?” Daisy clipped impatiently.

  “Well, let’s see,” Melanie drawled with deliberate slowness as Daisy narrowed her eyes at her. “Hmmm, what do you recommend?”

  “All my frozen treats are of the highest quality. You can’t go wrong in my shop,” she claimed arrogantly.

  “Is that right? Well, how about that purple swirl over there? What’s that?” Melanie asked, pausing to read every label as Daisy looked ready to jump across the counter and attack her.

  “That’s my fat free, sugar free blueberry sorbet,” Daisy informed tightly.

  “Fat free and sugar free?” Melanie echoed doubtfully. “Doesn’t sound too appealing. Can I try a sample first?”

  “Miss, I really don’t have time to give out samples right now. Just make up your mind so I can get out of here,” Daisy demanded.

  “Oh I’m sorry,” Melanie feigned an apology. “I don’t mean to hold you up. Maybe you could just recommend something for me. That might be faster.”

  “Fine. I recommend the soy blackberry frozen yogurt with sugar substitute,” Daisy suggested as Melanie nearly gagged.

  “Oh yummy,” she said sarcastically. “Give me the soy blackberry then.”

  Daisy dug a scoop into the lumpy raven mixture and sparingly inserted it into a paper cup. “That’ll be $5.50.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Melanie blurted out. With Daisy’s absurdly exorbitant prices and brittle customer service, it was a wonder she had managed to stay in business longer than a week.

  “These ingredients don’t come cheap,” Daisy shrugged, standing like a watchdog at the cash register as Melanie opened her purse.

  Slyly, Melanie closed the clasp on her handbag and said, “On second thought, I’m not very hungry. Not that your frozen yogurt crap would fill me up anyway.”

  “Excuse me?” Daisy shouted indignantly.

  “That’s right. You see, I know good quality frozen desserts because I used to sell them. By the bucket load. Until some viper lit my ice cream parlor on fire,” Melanie gritted as Daisy’s face paled then flamed.

  “Are you Melanie?” She asked disgustedly.

  “Oh, you know my name? But we’ve never met before.”

  “Lynne told me about you. Shouldn’t you be in Ireland with Keith right now?” She asked with bitter sarcasm.

  Refusing to hedge any longer, Melanie announced, “I know it was you who set Hot Fudge Fancy on fire.”

  “What makes you think that?” She asked as the fire in her cheeks crept into her eyes, giving the orbs a devilish gleam.

  “Because you’ve been stalking Keith. He and I were in Ireland and his phone kept beeping with your psychotic messages. But he doesn’t want to hear from you anymore. And you know it. But you can’t handle it. That’s why you set my store on fire, isn’t it?” Mela
nie tried to bait her into a direct confession.

  Instead of confessing, Daisy fixated on her obsession. “How do you know Keith doesn’t want to hear from me?” She roared. “He was away with you, so of course he’s going to say that my messages were a nuisance. But he got in touch with me as soon as he got back.”

  “You’re lying. He wouldn’t contact you. And we just got back today, so I know you didn’t have time to talk to him. You were too busy destroying my store! And covering up your dirty tracks! But the police are onto you. Everyone’s onto you. Everyone knows that you’re nothing but a hot fudge fraud! Thanks to a nasty little tube of lipstick and a surveillance camera,” Melanie spoke with decadent satisfaction, knowing she had cornered the fiendish rattlesnake.

  “They found my lipstick?” Daisy gulped with dread.

  “That’s right. And the lab tests came back with your DNA on them,” Melanie fibbed, knowing it would be weeks before the tests came back with conclusive results.

  In a panic, Daisy lunged across the counter and tugged on Melanie’s shirt. “Get your hands off me!” Melanie screamed. She hadn’t prepared for a physical confrontation, and she couldn’t afford to let this exchange end without a full and explicit confession from Daisy.

  “You’re damn right I set your store on fire, you bitch!” Daisy screamed, clawing at Melanie’s face. “And I’m no fraud! Why do you think this location is such a dump? Because I’m not the spoiled princess everyone thinks I am. Mommy and Daddy didn’t put one penny towards this place. It’s all mine! And so is Keith!”

  Melanie struggled to free herself of the young woman’s surprisingly strong hold. Why don’t the police come? She just confessed. Hurry up. Please hurry up before someone gets hurt.

  Daisy continued with her rant while ruthlessly clutching a tuft of Melanie’s hair. “You think you can have everything? You think I’m gonna let you have Keith? He’s not yours! I’m glad I set your shop on fire. Poof! It’s all gone! Next time it will be you lying in the ashes! And that’s a promise!”

  Storming through the door with two police officers behind her, Detective Graydon ordered, “Stop! Get your hands off of her!” Guns drawn, the police officers invaded the store as Daisy broodingly surrendered, placing her hands up and bursting into tears in the same moment.

  Gratefully, Melanie gave Detective Graydon a hug as the older woman tried her best to calm her. “Good work, Melanie. It’s all over. We got the confession we needed as well as a death threat to add to her growing list of criminal charges.”

  “Can I go home now?” She requested as the blood drained from her face. The trauma of the past 24 hours was catching up to her with a vengeance.

  “Yes, of course. Your father is waiting outside. Ms. Delaney is going to jail now. You won’t have to deal with her again until trial.”

  “Trial?” Melanie asked wearily.

  “Yes. Unless we can get her to cut a deal with the prosecutor and enter a guilty plea. If she pleads guilty, we’ll be able to avoid going to trial,” Detective Graydon explained, escorting Melanie out of the shop.

  With a wave of vertigo, Melanie contemplated the brawl that had threatened to escalate into a bloody battle. “I don’t know what she would have done to me if you guys didn’t come in when you did.”

  “I know, dear. Now just go home and get some rest.” Stacey Graydon shifted into mother mode and patted the younger woman’s hand compassionately.

  Mr. Bradley was waiting anxiously in the truck with his eyes glued to the storefront of Daisy’s Frozen Delights. As Melanie somberly climbed into the truck, Daisy screamed from down the block where the police officers were hauling her away in handcuffs. Demonically, she shrieked at Melanie, “You and Keith will never be happy together! Your relationship is doomed! All the four leaf clovers in Ireland couldn’t save you!”

  Chapter 10

  As Melanie tossed her bags onto the bed in her childhood room, Daisy’s malicious words echoed in her mind. How ironic that she would invoke the four leaf clover, an international symbol of luck---the one thing Melanie had always found lacking in her life. Trying to dismiss her superstitious thoughts, Melanie unpacked her bags and restocked the dresser that she thought she would never use again.

  Her cell phone rang inside her purse, and she reflexively went to answer it. “Hello,” she said without bothering to see who was calling.

  Keith’s emotion wrought voice cracked over the line. “Melanie, I’m so glad you picked up. I need to talk to you. Where are you?”

  Even as her heart screamed at her to let Keith back in, a wiser part of her had cooled to him and felt he wasn’t trustworthy. Silencing her heart, she insisted, “I told you I need time, Keith. I was serious when I said that.”

  “Yes, I know. And I’ll respect your need for time if you’ll just give me a chance to make it up to you. I just want to see you and talk. And be there for you through this crazy nightmare. Damn it, I feel like it’s all my fault,” Keith faltered in frustration and self contempt.

  “It’s not your fault. I’m not blaming you at all. I’m just upset because you didn’t tell me Daisy was your ex-girlfriend. Now please, I have so much on my mind right now. Just let me go, and I’ll call you if and when I’m ready to talk.” The words traveled tightly through her lips as she longed to tell him to come over so they could share a cold glass of lemonade and pick up where they left off in Dublin. But the risk of giving her heart to him was too great. Already, barely a week into their dating relationship, he had proven himself unworthy of her trust. Melanie sighed, reminded of the reason she had avoided romantic entanglements for most of her life.

  “Please don’t say ‘if’ you’ll call me. Just say when. And know that I’ll be waiting for your call,” he emphasized, not caring that he had effectively flung his pride out the window with his pleas.

  “Okay, Keith. I have to go now,” she answered vaguely. Before he had a chance to say goodbye, she ended the call and turned off her phone, burying it in the bottom drawer of her dresser.

  *****

  Sunrise descended over North Charleston like a fire breathing dragon. Melanie awoke on her pancake thin mattress, sticky with sweat as the ceiling fan above her bed labored to cool the room. Grabbing for a bathrobe, she clamored into the bathroom for a cold shower. Her skin felt immune to the frigid temperatures, just as her heart was numb from everything else. Dazedly, she switched off the water and slipped into a plum tank top and denim cutoffs. From the den, she could hear her father’s favorite oldies station pulsating along with the rustling of objects.

  “You’re up early. Don’t you want to sleep in a little now that you’re retired?” Melanie asked, walking into the den where Sunny was contentedly sprawled out on a loveseat.

  “I’m going through some old things,” he called over his shoulder before turning the volume down on the radio. “Would you like to help me?”

  “Sure,” she replied dismally, feeling as though her life had gone from pause to rewind.

  Twisting a key into a locked closet, Mr. Bradley opened the door and announced, “I’m finally tackling this closet.”

  Astonished, Melanie peered inside the closet that, to her knowledge, hadn’t been opened since her mother’s death. “Dad, really? Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Yes,” he replied firmly. “I was thinkin’ about what you said yesterday about that lady detective, Stacey. And you know what? I do want to ask her out. But I need to unload some baggage first.”

  “You definitely do,” Melanie agreed, sitting cross legged outside the closet and randomly sorting through whatever her hands reached first.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind if I ask her out, though?” He asked apprehensively.

  “Why would I mind, Dad? We don’t need to talk about how many years Mom has been gone for us to know that you finding someone is long overdue.”

  “Yeah, but the only reason I met this lady was because your parlor burned down,” Mr. Bradley conveyed uneasily.

&nbs
p; Without hesitating, Melanie replied, “Don’t think like that, Dad. Remember what Mom always said about finding silver linings inside those Irish rainclouds! If you and Detective Graydon get together, that would be the best silver lining I could imagine coming from a very gloomy cloud.”

  “I like your way of thinking, honey. I just might ask Stacey out…but first we’ve got to get through this closet.” He expelled a mighty sigh and sat down next to his daughter to rummage through the mountain of dusty belongings.

  “Hey Dad, what’s this?” Melanie asked curiously, holding up a metal lockbox with her name taped on in floral calligraphy.

  “I don’t know,” he replied honestly, examining the box. “After your mother died, I threw so many things in here, I lost track. Let’s see here.” He took the lockbox from her and turned it upside down. Glued neatly to the bottom of the box was a key.

  “Well, the box has your name on it. So here honey, you try the key.” He handed the box back to Melanie as she drove the key smoothly into the lock.

  Lifting the lid, she gasped at the first item she saw: an envelope with her name written in cursive with blue ink. She recognized the handwriting immediately as her mother’s. “Dad, this looks like a letter from Mom!” Below the envelope’s seal were brief instructions that read:

  To Be Opened on Melanie’s 18th Birthday

  Tears instantly welled in Mr. Bradley’s eyes as he realized just how remiss he had been in going through his wife’s belongings. “Oh darlin’, I’m so sorry! Your mama wanted you to read whatever’s inside that envelope 8 years ago! I should have gone through her things more carefully before burying them in this closet.”

  But Melanie wasn’t listening. Tearing the envelope open with trembling hands, she discovered two letters. One was written in the same familiar handwriting of her mother, and the other bore a penmanship she didn’t recognize. Seizing her mother’s letter, she read it out loud in a quavering voice.

  “Dear Melly, my sweet, sweet lovey, I’m writing this letter to you when all I want to do is go to sleep. The pain has become too much for me, and I know I won’t be around much longer. When you read this letter, I will be long gone. But I need you to know that I will always love you and always be your mother. Even when you are a grown woman, my heart will still be with you. Just bear with me while I give you some simple but important advice on your 18th birthday.