by Nancy CoCo
“Jenn!” I scolded.
“You know, Allie’s pretty good at investigating,” Jenn said.
“I know that,” I said. “But you have your hands full with the online orders. I won’t really be investigating.”
“I get it,” Allie said. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she wore a hairnet. Even with the food worker attire, she looked lovely. Just like her Grandmother Alice.
Sometimes just looking at her made me so homesick for my lovely best friend. Alice had caught a bad pneumonia three years ago. She had kept her illness to herself until it was too late. Liam had been devastated by her loss, as had I. That’s when I promised myself never to stay silent when I wasn’t feeling well.
“Thanks, dear,” I said.
“That said, I know it helps me to discuss an investigation with everyone. So why don’t we break for coffee and go over what all you’ve learned?”
I looked at Douglas. He nodded his agreement. “Fine,” I said and went back to my computer. “Let me finish up what I was doing.”
“Yay!” Jenn said with a bounce in her step. “I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee.”
Allie had put a coffee bar in the lobby. During the season, we refilled the pots every hour. But in the off-season, we mainly had hot coffee from five a.m. to ten a.m. A glance at my computer told me it was ten a.m. Fresh coffee would be nice.
* * *
I finished my open tasks just as Jenn came down to the lobby with a fresh pot of coffee and a tray of cookies. We gathered in the chairs and love seat that surrounded the fireplace. Inside, the hotel was quiet as most guests were out for the day and new guests had yet to arrive.
“Okay, we’re all here,” Jenn said. Allie and Jenn and Douglas and I were the crew that usually gathered for an investigation confab.
“Well, you all know that Warren was murdered. I mean, you don’t accidentally get hit with a blunt-force object and then get into a sleigh and die.” I paused. “Well, I suppose he could have, but he doesn’t own a sleigh and there was no one with him when we saw him.”
“Plus, Shane told me that they estimated time of death to be at least an hour before you saw him being run over by the sleigh,” Jenn said.
Shane was Jenn’s fiancé and the crime scene investigator for Mackinac Island. He was our go-to guy in the medical examiner’s office.
“So someone hit Warren with a blunt object hard enough to kill him. Then waited until it got dark out and put him on a sleigh and sent the sleigh down the road,” Allie said.
“Yes,” I said. “But the sleigh was never found.”
“So whoever did it must have followed the sleigh and then was able to get the horses and sleigh off the road before the police could find them,” Douglas said. “That lack of a sleigh has been bothering me.”
“Do you want to contact the Jessops to see if they know of anyone who is housing their horses on the island over the winter?” I asked Douglas. “It shouldn’t be too many. Usually the horses are ferried off the island.”
“Why?” Allie asked with a look of confusion.
“Once the ferries finish running for the winter months, it’s harder to give large animals proper veterinary care. You can’t just life flight them off the island,” Douglas explained.
“But some people do keep horses here to pull sleighs,” Allie said.
Douglas nodded. “A few, yes. Usually younger animals who are in the best of health.”
“So the killer had to have access to a sleigh,” Jenn said.
“Yes,” Douglas acknowledged. “Either their own sleigh or they are somehow connected with the stables. That should lower the number of suspects.”
“I went to the senior center to see what the scuttlebutt was. They told me Warren had recently been promoted to loan officer at the bank and was systematically repossessing and then buying parts of craft-brewing businesses.”
“That’s odd,” Allie said.
“I agree,” I said. “He repossessed—and then bought from the bank—Ralph Finnish’s warehouse. It’s big enough to start a good-sized brewery.”
“But you need to be able to buy ingredients at bulk prices to make any money at craft brewing,” Douglas said.
“That’s where Barry Elmwater came in. It turns out he was behind on his mortgage. Warren threatened to repossess Barry’s family home. Barry was hopping mad because he couldn’t come up with the funds.”
“Wait, doesn’t Barry have contracts for barley and hops? I know he supplies ingredients to local brewers and also sells it for animal feed,” Douglas said.
“Exactly.” I wiggled in my seat. “It seems Warren sort of blackmailed Barry right out of his business contracts.”
“Oh, that’s awful,” Allie said. “You mean he had to choose between his family home and his business?”
“Yes,” I said. “Ultimately, he sold the bank his contracts and Warren bought them at cost.”
“That’s pretty vicious,” Jenn said.
“There’s one more,” I said and told them about Henry Higginboom.
“Those guys all live within a half mile of one another,” Jenn said. “That’s why you were going door-to-door to gather donations for a scholarship fund.”
“Wait, what?” Allie asked.
I explained my plan to talk to the men under the guise of asking for donations. “Henry wasn’t home. I managed to talk to Ralph. He didn’t even know Warren was dead.”
“How could he not have known? Is he a hermit?” Allie asked. “Liz has been all over this story, posting both on her blog and in the newspaper. I think the story made the local television news.”
“Ralph has been out of work and doesn’t even have internet access,” I said.
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t do it,” Jenn said.
“Except he told me that he was glad he lost his property. It seems he wouldn’t have been able to pay his property taxes this year.”
“Huh,” Allie said.
I shrugged. “He really didn’t seem too upset that Warren was dead, but he didn’t look guilty either. I was going to finish my walk, but it was getting dark, and I knew Douglas would worry.” I patted his hand.
“I was worried,” he said. “Now I’m more worried. It sounds like whoever killed Warren was angry. If they killed in anger, they would most likely also kill in fear. Frances, if the killer thinks you are a threat, they could try to hurt you.”
“I was going door-to-door in neighborhoods where I know people,” I said. “No one could harm me without being seen. It’s why I came home when it got dark.”
“Even as the sun goes down, the Christmas lights keep the neighborhoods well lit,” Allie pointed out. “There are plenty of twinkle lights and Christmas decorations. After all, it was light enough for you to see the sleigh going down the road and to see Warren’s body fall out. Right?”
“Hmm” was all Douglas said in reply.
“Don’t be upset,” I said and patted his hand. “I’m safe.”
“But you have plans to talk to Barry and Henry,” Douglas said.
“Well, I have to know if they did it. You know we can’t find the killer without ruling out the suspects.”
“There has to be a better way than you talking to them face-to-face.” He ran his hand over his head.
I recognized it as a sign he was deeply worried. “We can think of a better way,” I said. “It’s why we are all here.”
“The best way is to get someone to talk in public,” Allie said.
“I know!” Jenn said. “We could throw a Christmas bash and see if we can’t get Barry and Henry to come.”
“Why would they come to our Christmas bash?” I asked.
“We have to make it the event of the season.” Jenn’s voice grew animated. “Something worthy of getting all the hermits out of their homes and out in public. What does Barry do now that he lost his business?”
“I don’t know,” Douglas said.
“Well, he must have had contacts with the b
ars on the island,” Allie said. “We can see if all the local craft brewers will enter a contest for the best-tasting local brew.”
“Awesome,” Jenn said. “I can bring out some big guns to taste-test. The whole town can get behind it because it can be a Christmas tourist event to rival the Santa Run.”
“That sounds like a lot of work,” I said. “Won’t it take a long time to plan and organize? I mean, we have to get on this killer thing sooner than that.”
“Let’s plan it as impromptu,” Jenn said with a smile and a flash of her eyes. “We’ll get the mayor to come out, and all the bars. I bet you can get the senior center to put on the whole thing. I mean, who doesn’t like a good beer?”
“That might work,” I said thoughtfully. “I can run it by them to see.”
“Then we have a plan,” Allie said. “Mr. Devaney will check into the missing sleigh and the rest of us will start planning a craft brew taste-off.”
“It’s a start,” Douglas said.
“Sounds good,” I said, relieved not to be keeping secrets from anyone. “Let’s see if we can pull it off.”
“We can do anything,” Jenn said. “We’re experts at pulling things off.”
“Let’s hope so,” I muttered. “Let’s hope so.”
Chapter 6
“I called the ladies in charge of events at the senior center. They have Thursday night open,” I said.
“This week?” Jenn asked.
“Yes.”
“So in two days?”
I glanced at my desk calendar. It was indeed Tuesday and late in the afternoon. “Yes; is it possible?”
“All things are possible when you are properly motivated,” Jenn said. “Have you checked your fund-me page?”
“No, I haven’t had time,” I said. “But I did tell the ladies at the senior center about it. They said they would help spread the word. I also talked to Liz. She’s writing a small article about it.”
“Ah, no wonder you are up to five thousand dollars in your fund,” Jenn said.
I sat down. “Five thousand?”
“Yes,” she said with a grin. “That’s just since I started the page.”
“Incredible,” I said.
“The girls will have a boost toward their college. Warren might have been an awful person, but people are rallying around his kids. I’m going to use that.” Jenn’s eyes lit up. “Yes, we can charge a small entry fee for the brewers and half the proceeds will go to the winner and half to the scholarship fund. I like it. People will be able to deduct it from their taxes. It means they will be more likely to enter. I’m going to get on the phone with all the bar owners.”
“Well, the Jessops own half the bars in the area, so that can be done in one call,” I teased.
“We’ll need food donations and the beer brewers and the bars that sponsor need to be able to sell their drinks.”
“Wait, won’t we need a liquor license?” I asked.
“I’m going to talk to the mayor. He could have the city council issue a temporary license. I’ll call him right now.”
“Wow, you are good,” I said. “I should have known that a woman who could plan my wedding, and even though it was postponed a couple of times, still pull it off so successfully, could move mountains.”
“I’ll tell him it would be good for the bars and a way to bring in tourists,” Jenn said. “I mean, sure, this one is hasty, but next year we can really do it up proud. We can make it a winter celebration that will bring in brewers across the nation.”
“All because I want to know if my suspects killed Warren.”
“Well, and help the scholarship fund, and increase off-season tourism.”
“You are brilliant,” I said.
“Thank you,” she replied. “I’m off to my office. I have phone calls to make.”
I watched as she bounded up the stairs. Jenn was a runner and her long, lean body was in good shape. I remembered being able to do that. Unfortunately—or fortunately—I had come to accept the limitations of growing old. With wisdom comes a slowing down of the system.
“Hey, Frances.” Allie stuck her head out of the fudge shop.
“Yes?”
“I have ten boxes of fudge to go to the post office. Can you help me take them?”
“Is the post office still open?” I asked, glancing at my watch.
“Yes, I just called down there. Amber Walker said she’d wait for us if we left now.”
“Wow, okay.” I hurried and slipped into my boots, my coat, my hat and mittens. Mal jumped on me, wanting to go out with us. “Can I bring her?”
“Not this time. I need a lot of hands on these packages,” Allie said.
“Sorry, girl,” I said. “Mommy says no.”
Mal pouted and went to her cuddle bed. Mella, the cat, jumped up on my receptionist desk and taunted her.
I didn’t have time to watch the fur babies any longer. Allie came out and filled my arms with boxes. When I had six, she put on her boots and coat and picked up the last four. Together, we left through the back door. The alleyway was closer to the post office.
It was dark outside except for the motion-sensor light that Allie had installed in the back. It came on as we went out and then faded behind us, leaving only the stars above and the faint light from the front of Main Street.
The snow crunched under our feet. The plow had come through the alley and pushed the snow into tall piles. I could see Christmas lights flickering in the distance and hear sleigh bells and the whining sound of snowmobiles. The air was crisp with the faint scent of fireplace smoke.
We walked quickly. Allie was on a mission and the quiet was one of winter chill, when the birds and insects were all gone.
* * *
The post office was well lit and warm inside. They played Christmas music and had decorated in multicolored LED lighting. Amber Walker waited for us.
“Thanks for waiting,” Allie said. “I was able to squeeze these ten boxes of fudge in under the postal deadline.”
“Oh. They smell good!” Amber said as she pulled the first box onto her scale to weigh it. She went through the standard questions and marked every box as perishable. Allie had purchased special shipping boxes that met postal code and still had the McMurphy Hotel and Fudge Shop logo on them. Inside, I knew the pounds of fudge were boxed in the McMurphy pink-and-white-striped box. Branding was one of Allie’s fortes.
“I heard you guys were planning a fund-raiser for the Engle girls’ college fund,” Amber said. “Is it some kind of beer thing?”
“We’re having a local craft beer taste-off,” Allie said. “Frances is putting together food and decorations for the senior center. It’s going to be a lot of fun. Will you come?”
“It does sound like fun,” Amber said. “I’ll come and bring all my friends who are over twenty-one.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Please spread the word; it’s Thursday night.”
“Sure, what time?” Amber asked as she placed the last of the boxes in the shipping bins.
“Eight o’clock,” I said. “It’s free to come. We’ll be taking donations at the door.”
“Great, see you then!” Amber waved us off.
* * *
I snuggled back into my coat as a chill wind blew little snow tornadoes up in the road. “I think we’re doing well spreading the word.”
“I certainly hope so,” Allie said. “Do you think making it a fund-raiser for the Engle girls will keep the suspects away? I mean, they may not want to have anything to do with Warren Engle after what he did to them.”
“I’m hoping Jenn is right. Whoever murdered Warren might be part of the local craft beer group. If that’s the case, he couldn’t not come. He’d be compelled to watch the judging to see how the competition compares.”
“But didn’t Barry lose his company that was contracted to supply the ingredients for beer? Didn’t you say he was doing woodworking? I mean, why would he come?”
“Douglas said Barry’s using h
is craft beer ties to start a distribution center. I think he’s going to want to be part of the crowd to do business.”
“And Henry?”
“For some reason, Warren didn’t actually repossess Henry’s equipment. It seems he was killed before he could finish the deal.”
“Sounds like Henry is suspect number one,” Allie said.
“It certainly does sound suspicious. We’ll have to see if either man had access to horses and a sleigh.”
“I can’t wait to hear what Douglas found out today,” Allie said as we came around the corner and heard carolers coming down Main Street. They wore Victorian costumes and sang with pure joy. I loved Christmastime on the island. It was very laid-back and old-fashioned.
“Oh, let’s hurry and invite the carolers in for mulled cider and cookies,” I said. “Maybe we can get them all to agree to come to the function and bring a friend. The more people there, the merrier.”
“I agree,” Allie said. “You never know who is going to be a good lead during an investigation. Maybe someone can shed more light on Warren’s suspicious activities as loan officer.”
Chapter 7
I ladled up two bowls of homemade chicken and noodles and put them down on the dining room table. “How was your day?”
“Better now that I’m alone with you, enjoying a wonderful home-cooked meal,” Douglas said. “Before I met you, I ate a lot of takeout bar meals. Trust me, this is ideal.”
“Thank you,” I said with a blush. We said a blessing over the meal and dug in. My trick to chicken and noodles was to sprinkle in half a cup of Parmesan cheese. It thickened the sauce and made for a creamier mouth feel. “So what have you learned about the missing horses and sleigh?”
“I had to be discreet in my investigation. Rex Manning was out asking the same questions. I didn’t want to give anyone the impression we were also investigating.”
“Smart,” I said and spooned up fat egg noodles and chunks of white meat chicken from my bowl.
“I talked to Trent Jessop,” Douglas said. “He told me there are maybe ten sleighs on the island. Most of the taxi services close down in the winter, you know. Locals tend to favor snowmobiles. That means the people who have sleighs need to either be rich enough to keep them, or they use them as a business by renting them out. Then there is the taxi service for the few visitors who don’t want to use the snow machines to get around.”