All Fudged Up (A Candy-Coated Mystery) (15 page)

“I knew you were brilliant.” I studied the lobby of the McMurphy. “But I had no idea how brilliant. This place looks awesome.”

Every bit of glass sparkled and shone, the wood trim was polished to a honey glow. The wood floors gleamed. There were round tables of various heights—some bar height, some table height with chairs—all covered with white linen tablecloths. Jenn had brought in potted palms to fill in the corners and add interest to the walls. The fireplace was filled with stacks of white candles that put off a soft glow. The two chandeliers gleamed and sparkled, dimmed to half their usual daytime brightness.

A three-piece orchestra played on the left-side stair landing. The fudge shop area held fifty gift-wrapped boxes, each containing four quarter-pound cuts of different cocktail fudges.

Mr. Devaney wore a 1920s-style tuxedo and prepped the four waiters Jenn had hired to serve coffee, cocktails, and fingers foods. Frances wore a sparkling red flapper outfit complete with beading, flapper headband, and an elegant white purse.

Jenn had done my hair for me, braiding my long wavy locks into a soft style that might pass for short at first glance. After nearly emptying a bottle of hair spray in it, she had pronounced my hair perfect. Then we attached a pearl headband into it with hairpins and added another coat of hair spray for good measure. I swear I wouldn’t be able to taste anything but hair spray the rest of the night.

I had on a white drop-waist sleeveless dress and long strands of pearls. The big find was a secondhand pair of shoes that fit perfectly and appeared to be right out of a 1920s catalog.

“Where on earth did you find these shoes?” I asked.

“I have my secrets,” Jenn had said with a twinkle in her eye. She wore a peacock-blue flapper dress with sparkling beads and a peacock-feathered hat. Her hair was perfect. She looked like she stepped out of an old-time photograph.

Even Mal had gotten into the party spirit. She wore a flapper costume and did her best to rub off the headband Jenn had secured in her puppy hair.

“No sense in fighting it, ducky,” I told her. “Jenn knows how to make clothes stick.”

To which Mal snorted and stopped rubbing. She sat down and eyed me with her black button eyes.

“Everyone, I want you to meet Madame Evelyn.” Jenn sailed across the lobby with a turban-wearing woman behind her. “Madame Evelyn is from St. Ignace and she has graciously agreed to run a séance tonight to try to reach any spirits hanging around the McMurphy.”

“Hello,” I said and stuck out my hand. “I’m—”

“Allie McMurphy.” She took my hand in both of hers. I noted that her hands were warm and her fingernails were filed into near points and painted blood-red. “You have some really good energy.” She tilted her head and studied me with brown eyes until I grew uncomfortable and withdrew my hand.

“Thank you,” I said. “Jenn has set you up a table in front of the elevators. They have been blocked off for the night as we really want to keep everyone in the main lobby.”

“Perfect.” She floated off. “Is that an open bar?”

I watched her as she crossed the floor. She wore a red-and-gold caftan and a gold turban. I figured she might have been Grammy’s age. Tiny tufts of gray and white hair slipped out behind her turban.

“Where did you get her?” I asked in a low whisper.

“She runs a little psychic shop at the far end of Merchant Street. I thought it would be good to hire people from the community.” Jenn shrugged. “She came highly recommended.”

“Well, then we had to have her,” I quipped.

“Ah, here are Russell Haver and Angie Knight. They’re tonight’s actors.”

A twentysomething girl and guy walked in dressed in full-on costume. Russ was dressed as Sherlock Holmes and Angie looked like a dame right out of the movie
Chicago.

“Kids, over here. I want you to meet Allie.” Jenn waved them over.

“Hello.” I shook their hands. “I’m Allie McMurphy, proprietor.”

“What a cool place,” Angie said as she shook my hand. “I can’t wait to see the tunnel. Jenn tells me it’s awesome.”

“Right.” I said and turned to Russ. “I’m Allie.”

“Russ.” His grip was firm and his dark black eyes and high cheekbones showed he had a bit of native in him. “We’ve rehearsed the script Jenn sent over,” he said. “But do know that we are also good at improvising. Once the guests arrive we will not break character until the last guest leaves. We work to give the partygoers the feeling they are part of the story.”

“Great,” I said. “It’s important that we impress the people here tonight. They have all paid good money toward the cause and I want them to feel as if they are getting their money’s worth in entertainment.”

“They will, don’t worry,” Jenn said and put her arms through Angie’s and Russ’s. “Come on, kids, I’ll show you around the lobby and the basement and such so that you are familiar with the layout.”

“Here.” Frances handed me a glass. “Have a highball. You look like you need it.”

I winced and took the glass from her hand. “What’s in it?”

“Bathtub gin, of course.” She laughed. “Oh, and some tonic and a squeeze of lime.”

“Perfect.” I took a sip and found I actually liked it. “Not bad.”

“The bartender is as pretty to look at as he is talented.” Frances winked. “Relax, have a good time tonight. Your friend Jenn is a miracle worker when it comes to a party. I can’t believe she set this all up in a matter of days.”

“I knew she was brilliant.” I sipped more gin. “Are we good to go? Do you have the scrapbook display out and ready for the historical society members to look through? I think if they can see that we have kept within the spirit of the original building they will sign off on the changes.”

“A few free drinks and they should be more than happy to sign.” Frances agreed. “Too bad we can’t have the paperwork out and ready.”

“It would be too obvious.” I looked around. “We want to wine and dine them first. Hopefully it will be enough if, by the end of the night, they leave with yummy fudge and a memory of a good time.”

“It should be more than enough.” Frances patted my arm. “I want you to know that I prepared the rooms upstairs in case anyone feels the need to stay the night. If they ask, send them to me, and I’ll walk them up and let them in a room.”

“You are brilliant,” I said.

“Of course, that’s why you love me.” Frances winked at me. “Ah, your guests are starting to arrive. Good luck and have fun!”

I watched as a horse-and-carriage taxi pulled up to the front of the building. Men in suits and fedoras helped women in wool and fur coats down out of the taxi. It was dark, but the streetlight shone on them, giving them the odd appearance of stepping through time.

“Welcome,” I said when they entered. Frances stood beside me and introduced the couples. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m so glad you could come.”

“The place looks wonderful,” Mrs. Cunningham stated. “I do so like the pink on the walls. Oh, whose adorable puppy?”

I bent down and picked up Mal. “This is Marshmallow. She’s here to ensure you are safe from any gangsters.”

The crowd laughed and Mrs. Cunningham, a senior member of the historical society, cooed at Mal. She did her job and nuzzled her way into Mrs. Cunningham’s heart.

The door opened again and another group entered. This one included Paige and Trent Jessop, along with their mother and her husband.

“Thanks for coming,” I said and greeted them all as warmly as possible. I noted the purple ribbons on their lapels. Tonight I didn’t wear my ribbon. It was time to show the community that we were here for the best of everyone involved. But how could I blame the Jessops for their purple ribbons? Joe was their patriarch.

“We can’t stay long,” Karen Jessop said as she took my hands. “But you were so kind to us that we felt we should come out and support a worthy cause.”

“I agree. The children need access to good health care,” I said. “Please, before you go, make sure you get some food. I know how difficult it is to eat properly when you’re grieving.”

“You’re very kind,” Karen said. She was about my mother’s age but her hair was that perfect champagne blond that wealthy women wore. The tone played off her flawless skin and brown eyes. I realized that Karen Jessop was a beautiful woman. Trent had her eyes and Paige had her sense of style and grace.

“Frances will show you where the most comfortable seats are,” I said. Mal wiggled in my arms. Her nose twitched at Trent. My nose twitched as well. The man wore a tux and it looked breathtaking on him.

I tore myself away from him before I looked too foolish and turned to Paige. “Congratulations on your new hotel plans,” I said. “I understand it is going to be the biggest one on island when it’s finished.”

“Oh, yes.” She gushed. “I had my architect work up plans based on designs from the 1870s. The paint scheme, wallpapers, and flooring are all going to be vintage Victorian.”

“As an event designer I’m curious to see the work that went into it,” Jenn said as she slid up beside me. “Hi, I’m Jennifer Christensen.” She held out her hand to Paige. “I’m working with Allie this summer on all of her events.”

“Nice to meet you,” Paige said. “Allie, I didn’t know you hired a designer.”

“Jenn and I went to school together,” I said. “She has worked with some of the best families in Chicago on their parties. If you ever need a party planner, I’m sure she’d be happy to help.”

“I most certainly would,” Jenn said. “I’m seriously considering starting up an event planning business on island. So if you know of anyone with a wedding or a party they want planned, why, look around. My business cards are on the stand by the door.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Paige said. “Good help is hard to find on island. Most of the staff are young college kids or interns. It would be nice to actually work with a professional wanting to stay on island.”

Jenn turned to Trent. “Jennifer Christensen.” She held out her hand and he shook it. “Is Paige your date?”

I had to work at not rolling my eyes. Jenn knew perfectly well that Paige was his sister.

“Paige is my sister,” Trent said smoothly. “Since my grandfather just died I didn’t feel it was appropriate to bring a date.”

“Oh, dear, yes, of course, my condolences on your loss,” Jenn said. She slid her arm through his and walked him away from me. “So tell me, Mr. Jessop, what do you do for a living?”

“Oh, she’s good,” Paige said as we watched Jenn walk off with Trent.

I laughed. It came out a short bark and made Paige smile. “Yes, she is good. Please feel free to use her services. She’s been known to even plan wakes that people talk about for days on end.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” Paige said. The doorbells jangled and more couples came in and Paige moved on to join her mother at the bar.

I took the next wave and was happy when Frances returned to my side and continued to introduce me.

One of the last people to enter was Emerson Todd. He came alone, wearing an Oxford baggy suit, complete with waistcoat and pocket watch. It glistened with damp. He took off his fedora and brushed the tiny sparkles of water off himself.

“Hello, welcome to the McMurphy,” I said. “I’m Allie, is it raining out?”

“Emerson Todd.” He shook my hand. “It’s just spitting out.”

“Let me take your coat.” Frances held out her hand. “Almost everyone is here. I’m glad you could make it.”

“The pleasure is mine.” He had light brown eyes that were almost tan with a ring of black around the irises. “Wow, you’ve done a lot with the place.”

“Thank you. Have you been in the McMurphy often?”

“My folks used to come for the fudge and on Tuesday nights they would play cards with your grandparents and the Thompsons.”

“Just the three couples?” I tilted my head. “Wouldn’t it take four?”

“You are quite right.” He yanked on his waistcoat. “I forget who else was there. I was, after all, just a child and more interested in the video games.”

“Of course, I’m sorry.” I lifted one corner of my mouth. “I don’t remember who they played cards with. I would come in the summers and it was usually too busy for too many card nights.”

“It’s the trouble with your livelihood relying on tourists,” he said. His tone was matter-of-fact, but while he didn’t seem to purposely insult me, I came away feeling a little bit like trailer trash.

“I understand you sold your family land to build a tourist hotel.” I tilted my head. “A brand-new hotel.”

“In the style of the old.” He nodded and his mouth turned up. “There is very little use for dilapidated buildings and empty grounds. I actually did the island a favor.”

“I’m sure you did. Thank you for coming. The children’s clinic appreciates your help.” I watched the arrogant man walk off. He gave Paige Jessop a nod and went to speak to the Birdwells. Frances had introduced me to Mr. and Mrs. Birdwell, explaining that they lived in Chicago but had ties to the island that went back to the days of the fur trade. It was Mrs. Birdwell who was the head of the historical committee and the one I needed to impress tonight.

So I bit my tongue and held back my dislike of Emerson. If Frances was right and he had lost all of his family money in the real-estate crash, then maybe he really had had no choice but to sell to the Jessops. You never know what truly drives a person—even an arrogant person.

“The place really does look good,” Pete Thompson said. The man stood a hair too close. He wore a suit, waistcoat, and jacket. Cream-colored spats covered his dark shoes. “I know you have an asking price in mind. How much is it? I’ll give you ten percent less.”

I grabbed a cocktail off the tray of the passing waitress. “The McMurphy is not for sale, Pete.”

“Having this party instead of an open house was a great idea. People can see the possibility in the old place.” He sipped his drink. “Don’t waste your time walling off the tunnel, though. When I buy the McMurphy, I’m going to use it to link the two hotels.”