All Fudged Up (A Candy-Coated Mystery) (21 page)

“Damn it, Allie, I told you to stay put.” Rex lowered his gun and Mal started barking. “What is wrong with your dog?”

“It’s Jenn,” I said. “Some guy pulled her down the alley. I think it’s Colin Ferber.”

“Which way did he go?”

“That way,” I said and pointed. Mal squirmed and wiggled, leaping out of my arms. She took off like a shot down the alley. I raced after her. Rex came after me.

There was no sneaking up on the villain. Not with all the noise Mal made. People came around the alley to see what all the commotion was about.

Emily Proctor stuck her head out the back door of her shop. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Jenn. Someone’s kidnapped her. He took her down the alley,” I shouted. “Mal went after them.”

“Holy moly.” Emily closed the door and soon I heard Mike come running up behind us. Emily herself wasn’t far behind.

Mrs. Amerson came around the back of the art gallery. “What is all the noise?”

“Someone kidnapped Allie’s friend,” Emily said. “The dog is chasing him and we are chasing the dog.”

“That’s terrible!” Mrs. Amerson took off running with us. “The alley crosses the street up here.”

Mal had disappeared down the road as we approached the street that ran perpendicular to Market Street. Mal made a wide circle, barking as if to say, “Hurry, hurry!”

More people poured out of businesses. I let Emily and Mike explain what was going on. I had to keep breathing. I tried not to laugh. I felt as if I were part of the mob chasing Frankenstein’s monster. A glance behind me showed that ten or more people had become part of the chase. Mal hit Market Street and did a wide circle, moving left.

“That little puppy is fast!” Emily said.

No kidding, I thought, nearly out of breath. At this rate there was no way the kidnapper could be that far ahead of us. He was dragging Jenn. Mal took off right at the next alley, her barking drawing us on. Suddenly there was a loud bang and a yip.

My heart sank and I screamed out, “No!” and sprinted. I turned the corner to see Mal lying on her side under the light of a streetlamp. The hooded man stood with a gun to Jenn’s head. Jenn was very still, her eyes as big as saucers.

“Freeze!” Rex commanded and pointed his gun. His voice was so loud it stopped me in my tracks. In fact, the entire mob stopped as if he were talking to us. Maybe he was.

“Don’t come any closer,” the man said, his face shadowed by the hoodie he wore. “I’ll kill her. I swear I will.”

“No one’s coming any closer.” Rex’s voice was deadly calm. I could hear the crowd breathing behind me, but no one moved. It might be interesting to see this in a television show, but let me tell you, in real life it was darn right terrifying.

The man waved his gun at the crowd and I could hear people scatter behind me. “Go away, all of you. Go! Get out of here!”

The sound of a siren could be heard in the distance. Police headquarters wasn’t too far from here and in a heartbeat Officer Brown and Officer Lasko entered my peripheral vision.

I kept my hands up. “Don’t hurt my friend,” I said. My voice trembled and sounded breathy. So much for being a brave hero.

“I will hurt her if you don’t get out of here.”

“Allie, go,” Rex said, his voice low and commanding.

“No.” I pulled myself up by my imaginary big-girl panties. “Jenn is on island to help me. I am not going to abandon her.”

Jenn had her hands on the arm around her neck. She had sweat rolling down her temple. “Allie, go.”

“No.” I lowered my hands and took a step forward. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re doing this?”

“Don’t come any farther.” The gun wavered dangerously at me.

I stopped. My legs shook. The police had him in their crosshairs. Were they looking for a reason to fire? “Let Jenn go and I’ll walk away. We won’t even press charges. Will we, Jenn?”

“No, we won’t,” Jenn said. Her gaze never left my face. I knew she wasn’t this passive. She had something up her sleeve. Then I remembered how we used to play the scene from
Miss Congeniality,
the movie, over and over. What was her self-defense advice? SING. “Shut up. I’m not letting anyone go.”

“Okay then, Jenn and I will have to sing.”

Jenn’s eyelid twitched and I knew she caught on. “Go ahead Jenn, sing.”

Jenn shoved her elbow into the man’s solar plexus. Then she stomped on his instep, slammed her palm into his nose, and kneed him in the groin.

He fell like a pile of bricks. Rex and the other two officers were on him before I could let out a breath. Jenn ran into my arms and I hugged her tight.

“Oh, thank God. Thank God!” I kept saying. Then I felt something bouncing at my knee. “What? Mal! I reached down and picked my puppy up and we did a group hug. “I thought you were dead.” Tears filled my eyes. “I thought you were both dead.”

“We’re good,” Jenn said. “We’re strong. How did you see me?”

“Mal alerted me,” I answered and sat down on the curb, not letting go of my best friend or my puppy. “She chased after you.”

People came out of the buildings and from surrounding corners. They surrounded us, slapping our backs and talking loudly. Everyone thought Mal had been shot, but I ran my fingers over her and she was not even grazed.

“How?” I asked.

Jenn laughed. “I’ve been teaching her tricks. Did you know that bichons were circus dogs?”

“You taught her to play dead?”

“Yes, watch.” Jenn made a gun shape with her fingers. “Bang!” Mal fell over and closed her eyes. “Good girl!”

Mal came back to life, wagging her tail and licking my face.

“Oh, you sweet thing.” I cried some more and hugged her tight. The crowd helped us up and took us to the bar on the corner. I glanced over my shoulder to see Rex cuffing the man and Officer Brown reading him his rights.

“Who is he?” I had to ask.

“That’s Freddy,” Emily Proctor replied. “Colin Ferber’s boy.”

“Everyone knows Colin’s a drinker. It’s gotten real bad lately.” Mike said. “Freddy came home to move his dad into a nursing home.”

I drew my brows together as we entered the bar. “I didn’t know Colin was sick.”

Jenn and I were offered chairs at the bar and we took them. Cold beers were set out in front of us. I swallowed my portion and took ahold of Mabel’s arm, drawing her attention.

“I didn’t know Colin was ill. I fired him because he didn’t show up for work five days in a row.”

“Colin has end-stage liver cancer,” Mabel said. “He didn’t tell anyone as he wanted to die as he lived. But then Freddy found out six months ago and has been trying to convince Colin to get the hospital care he needs.”

“Colin wouldn’t think of it,” Emily said. “He said he was dead either way so why spend the money.”

“Oh, that’s so sad. I didn’t know. He didn’t say.”

“It’s not your fault,” Jenn touched my arm. It was then that I noticed a large bruise forming on her knuckles.

“Oh, my, gosh. Bartender, can we get some ice here?” I raised my voice above the crowd and pointed to Jenn’s hand.

“That’s what happens when you sing.” Jenn grinned and sipped her beer. “He was warned.”

I laughed and touched her longneck bottle with mine. “Indeed, he was warned.”

“It was Colin living in the attic?” We were once again gathered in the lobby of the McMurphy. This time the fireplace had grown cold.

Rex and Officer Brown and Officer Lasko sat in chairs, while Jenn and I took the settee. Mr Devaney stood next to Frances who sat on her stool behind the reception desk. Mal curled up warm and sleepy in my lap.

“He sold his house to pay off his doctor bill,” Rex said. “Freddy got wind that the property was for sale and came up on island to find out what was going on.”

“Was he estranged from Colin?” I asked. “I don’t remember Papa ever talking about Colin having any kids. Not even when Colin’s wife died two years ago.”

“He had a record a mile long,” Officer Brown explained. “Freddy had been in jail for the last five years. It was after his parole that he heard about the sale. He had come up to see if he could get any of the money.”

“But if Colin used the house to pay his medical bills,” I said.

“He didn’t have any money,” Jenn added.

“Exactly,” Rex said. “It pissed Freddy off so he followed his father to the McMurphy.”

“He must have been in the process of coming or going from visiting his father in the attic when Joe caught him.” I ran my hands along Mal’s soft back.

“Freddy claims that Joe attacked him and he fought back, knocking Joe against the shelves and running out,” Rex went on.

“Why didn’t Colin come to see me?” I asked.

“He was too sick,” Rex said. “All that drinking has taken a toll on his liver. The night you stayed with Frances, he slipped out through the apartment. He’s been in St. Ignace at his sister’s house ever since. His sister tells us that the doctor said Colin doesn’t have long to live.”

“But Benny saw him at the bar that night and Susan told me that Mary saw him outside the pool house the night Mr. Finley died.”

“They must have seen Freddy,” Lasko said. “He looks just like his father.”

“Neither of them are young men,” Mr. Devaney said.

“But who was in the basement?” I asked. “I don’t think it was an old man who attacked me and stole the wine.”

“Freddy swears he didn’t have anything to do with Mr. Finley’s demise,” Rex said.

“So there is still a killer and a thief out there,” Jenn said.

“How did you fall into Freddy’s clutches?” Officer Brown asked.

“He was in the attic,” Jenn said. “I went upstairs and caught him coming down the attic steps. Scared the pants off me. Before I could protest, he had a gun shoved in my face. He closed up the stairs and dragged me out the back door.”

“Why? What did he think he was going to do with you?”

“I’m not sure he knew,” Jenn said.

“You must have surprised him,” Rex said.

“Do we know why he was in the attic?” Officer Lasko asked.

“He heard about the wine,” Rex said. “He thought there might be some stashed in the attic.”

“He didn’t have any wine,” Jenn said.

“There most likely isn’t any in the attic,” I said and sighed. “Which leads us back to the fact that someone else knew about the wine. Someone was in the basement and attacked me. Someone still could have killed Papa and George and Mr. Finley.”

“Which is why I had Devaney stay with Frances and one of us will patrol the McMurphy at night,” Rex said.

“That can’t go on indefinitely,” I said.

“It won’t,” Rex said. “I’ve got a plan. We’ll discuss it in the morning.”

Butter an 8” × 8” × 2” pan, then line with wax paper or plastic wrap. (I prefer wax paper.)

Using a double boiler fill
of the bottom pan with water and heat on medium high until the water is boiling. Then you can turn the heat down to low and in the top section, combine sugar, cocoa, and milk—stir until it boils, then stop stirring—cook until it reaches 238°F on a candy thermometer or until the soft-ball stage. Remove from heat, then add butter and vanilla and beat with a wooden spoon until glossy—this is the part where candy makers in most fudge shops scrape and turn the candy with a wooden paddle on a marble board. Do not underbeat. Pour into pan and cool. Cut to preferred size.

“I saw the trashman was at the McMurphy.” Mabel stopped in. Today’s tracksuit was gold with lamé accents. She held her hand weights and pumped her arms up and down. “Were those Liam’s old boxes he was hauling off?”

“Yes,” I said as I made my first batch of fudge in front of the McMurphy’s front windows. I stirred the sugar and cocoa and cream in the large copper pot. “I found a bunch of old wine in the basement. Most of the bottles were broken so I tossed the entire crate out. I thought maybe they could recycle the glass bottles.”

“You threw out old wine? That was stupid.”

“Why was that stupid? The corks were brittle. It wasn’t any good. Besides, I think Papa made that batch in the basement. I found some counterfeit labels printed nearby.” I shrugged. “I think he made them in French to prank Joe Jessop.”

“Counterfeit labels?” Mabel stopped pumping and put her fists on her hips. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, yes, I had them checked out by one of my friends who is a professor in Chicago. They were counterfeit.” I poured the liquid fudge onto the marble fudge table. “Good thing we aren’t in the business of selling wine.”

“Indeed.” Mabel studied my face. “Liam loved to prank people, didn’t he?”

“He sure did.” I smiled at the memory and picked up the paddle to stir my fudge. “Are you sticking around to steal my fudge secrets?”

“Oh, dear. Lord, no.” Mabel frowned at me. “I’ve been out of the fudge business for two years.”

“You have?”

“Yes, I sold Agatha’s two years ago to Dorothy Todd. I’m retired now and living large.” She winked at me. “Have a good day now.”

“Oh, I will.” I lifted the fudge with the paddle and tossed it in the air. People gathered outside the window to watch. I smiled and performed little tricks, like tossing the fudge so that the ribbons landed making outlines of flowers.

When the fudge got to the right consistency, I added orange pieces that had been soaked in peach schnapps. This was my Fuzzy Navel recipe. I had gotten good comments from the guests on my 21-and-up series.

I glanced outside to see Rex standing near the window. He nodded at me. I smiled back. The plan had worked. The idea was to expose the persons interested in the wine.

Mabel had been the first to take the bait. Our hope was that she would spread the gossip through the town and our thief would show up at the trash site to hunt down any unbroken bottles of wine.

I remained calm. Rex had warned me it could take a full day before anyone took the bait. My part was to make fudge and open the door to the McMurphy for a local tasting before opening weekend.

I wouldn’t get to know who they caught at the trash heap. It was safer that way. Jenn and Frances agreed. We planned our day, keeping our roles as normal as possible. It was difficult to stay calm, but somehow I managed.

By 2
PM
, the four flavors of fudge I had made were sold out. Jenn had rented a cotton candy machine for the kids since my limited fudges were all soaked in rum, schnapps, and whiskey and were definitely 21-and-older fudges.

Frances paced behind her desk. Mr. Devaney spent the day closing up access to the attic from the second floor. Then he put a large dead bolt on the drop-down door into the apartment.

Mal was aware of the nerves we tried not to show. She was exhausted by the number of neighbors who stopped by to congratulate her for saving Jenn. They brought her treats and toys until she grew spoiled and had to go into her crate for a time-out nap.

“I understand your little dog is a hero.” Mr. Beecher walked down the alleyway. He wore a tweed jacket with patches on the sleeves, a matching patterned vest, dress slacks, and soft brown shoes. I had to say one thing for the man. He might be older, but he was always stylish.

“She is,” I said as Mal did her figure eights in the patch of grass behind the McMurphy.

“I heard she played dead.” He stopped a few feet from us. “I had a pup who could play dead like that. Best dog of my entire life.”

“I bet he was.”

Mal wiped her feet on the grass and came over to sniff Mr. Beecher. The old man hooked his cane on his arm and bent down to scratch her between the ears.

“My friend Jenn taught her the trick.”

“Not every dog can learn it,” he said as he straightened with a twinkle in his eye. “Only a good prankster.”

“Sort of like Papa Liam,” I said.

“Yes.” he nodded. “Like Liam. I heard through the grapevine Liam made some counterfeit wine to prank Joe Jessop.”

“He did, that’s right.” I nodded. “There was some story about a rare wine he found as a kid.”

“I remember that,” Mr. Beecher said. “That wine was destroyed because of Prohibition.”

“I guess Papa tried to convince Joe he found some more bottles. So he took some cheap wine and bottled it with counterfeit labels.”

“It’s against the law, isn’t it?”

I shrugged. “As long as he didn’t sell it, or claim it was what it wasn’t there was no fraud.”

“That Liam, always a card.” Mr. Beecher chuckled. “You have a good day, young lady.”

“Thanks, Mr. Beecher. You, too.” Mal and I walked back to the McMurphy when Mal stopped suddenly and started to growl. “What is it?”

Emerson Todd emerged out of the shadows. “So it’s true? Your grandfather counterfeited that wine?”

“Yes, I believe so,” I said. Mal acted strangely. She was stiff and growling low. “I wouldn’t come any closer,” I said, drawing my eyebrows together. “Mal doesn’t really like you.”

“Smart pooch,” Mabel said as she stepped out behind Emerson. “Too bad for both of you.” It was then that I noticed the gun in Mabel’s hands.

“Mabel?” I looked from her to Emerson. “Wait—are you two related?”

“Everyone on island is related in some form or other,” Emerson said, “it’s a small community.”

“I’m starting to understand that,” I said. Emerson took a step forward. Mal barked at him.

“Shoot that damn dog,” Emerson told Mabel.

I dropped Mal’s leash. “Run, Mal!” I shouted. “Go!”

The puppy grabbed up her leash and took off around the building.

“Don’t think that will save you,” Mabel said. “Liam thought he was clever and that didn’t save him.”

“You poisoned him, didn’t you?”

Emerson grabbed me by the arm. “Don’t think you’re going to get me with your SING,” he said. “Mabel will shoot you the minute you make a wrong move. Now, let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” I asked. His hands bruised my arm as he dragged me through the alley.

“We’re going to the pool house,” he said. “I happen to know that wine was not fake.”

“We had it tested,” Mabel said. “We also know Liam had at least one more bottle in the basement. You’re going to tell us where you hid it.”

He dragged me through the bushes and into the pool house. It was quiet now, the pool drained. “I haven’t found any more,” I said. “You got the last two bottles.”

Emerson hit me with his fist and stars exploded in front of my left eye. “Don’t lie to us.”

“I’m not lying,” I said when I could breath. “Why would I lie? You have a gun.”

“Open the door to the tunnel,” Mabel ordered.

“I don’t have the key. Pete has the key.”

“Nonsense. You co-own the pool house. You have a key,” Mabel said.

“Papa Liam sold our shares in the pool house years ago,” I said. “I don’t have the key.”

“Liar!” Emerson hit me again and I fell to my knees.

“Freeze!” Nothing had ever sounded so sweet to me as Rex’s voice. “Put the gun down, Mabel.”

“Shoot me and you’re precious girl gets it,” Mabel said.

“I said put the gun down.”

“Do it,” Officer Brown said from behind her.

“This isn’t over,” Mabel said as she put down the gun. Officer Brown rushed up and kicked it away. He grabbed Mabel’s hands and cuffed them behind her. Rex had Emerson cuffed, and then he holstered his gun and hunkered down to check on me.

“Are you okay?”

“Sure,” I said. “Maybe I should put my head down.”

The next thing I knew, George Marron was beside me with an ice pack. Mal leapt on me, licking me with warm puppy kisses.

 

 

“So it was Emerson and Mabel all along,” Jenn said once they got me up and resting in the lobby of the McMurphy.

“Do we know why?” I asked as I held an ice pack to my eye, which had begun to swell. George checked me out and pronounced that I would have a shiner, but my bones were not broken. He recommended ice and a few days of rest. This time I was happy to oblige.

“Mabel’s daughter married Emerson. When Emerson lost all their money in the stock market, Mabel sold her business to her daughter. But the tourism hasn’t been what it once was.”

“How did she find out about the wine?”

“When the last bottle was auctioned off. The auction house sent out a press release to indicate the value of the wine. Mabel saw the news clip on it online. She remembered the boys had found a few bottles in the 1950s and even though they supposedly destroyed the wine, it didn’t take much for Mable put two and two together.”

“She confronted Liam first, but he laughed her off.”

“So, she poisoned him?” I asked.

“In plain sight, too,” Frances said. “Brazen.”

“And Joe?”

“Joe figured it out, but before he could do anything he ran into Freddy.”

“And Mr. Finley?”

“Caught Emerson leaving the tunnel through the mechanical room under the pool,” Jenn said. “When Mr. Finley questioned Emerson’s reason for being in the mechanical room, Emerson killed Mr. Finley and then hurried over to arrive at the party. It’s why his coat was wet. He tossed him in the pool.”

“So it was Emerson who attacked me and ran off with two bottles of wine. Where did he put them? I mean, he met me at the lobby door shortly after and he was empty-handed.”

“When we searched his things, we discovered that the lining of his coat has two pockets where he hid the wine,” Officer Brown said. “In fact the wine was still in the coat. He may have kept them hidden so that he had two bottles of his own that Mabel didn’t know about.”

“Wow,” I said. “I thought the coat was heavy but I didn’t even suspect there might be wine bottles in the lining.”

“Now, are you ready for the good news?” Frances asked.

I laid my head back against the settee. “There’s good news?”

“Oh yes.” Jenn’s eyes sparkled.

“They recovered the wine bottles,” Frances said. “You have enough money to keep the McMurphy going for at least five years.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Rex said.

“That’s the best news.” I hugged Mal tight. “It looks like dreams really can come true.”