Oh Say Can You Fudge (15 page)

“Hey Allie.” Jenn came around into my line of sight. “Don’t move yet, okay?”

“Sure. What’s going on?”

“You’ve been out for a while.” Trent came into view and I was embarrassed. I mean, I must look a fright, what with lying on my stomach and drooling.

“Hi.” I tried a smile. “How long have you been here?”

“I’ve been here for a few hours.” He brushed the hair away from my face. “How do you feel?”

“Silly,” I said, wishing he weren’t so good-looking. “How’s Mal?”

“Mal’s fine.” Frances’s voice floated from over my shoulder. “We ran her over to St. Ignace and the vet checked her out. I understand you covered her with your body. She didn’t have a scratch on her.”

I swallowed and my throat was like sandpaper. My lips were dry so I licked them. “How are her lungs?”

“Fine,” Frances said. “I called your parents.”

I tried not to roll my eyes at that news. “I’m fine. Did you tell them I was fine?”

“She did,” Trent said and took hold of my hand. His big warm palm engulfed my hand and he stroked me with the pad of his thumb. “They are on their way up.”

“Oh.” I planted my face in the pillow. “They don’t have to come.”

“They love you and want to see for themselves that you are all right,” Frances said.

“Well, well. Our girl is awake,” Dr. Seager said as she came into view. “Let’s give me some time with her, okay folks?”

Trent squeezed my hand and planted a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll be back.”

The doctor busied herself checking my IV and waited for the room to clear out. “How do you feel?”

“Fine. Can I sit up?”

“Sure, I suggest you turn on your side and move carefully from there. You’ve got the IV to think about and the oxygen hose.”

I slowly rolled onto my right side and felt the stinging tug of the IV in the back of my left hand. I managed to sit up and let my feet dangle a bit off the edge of the bed. I was not in a room, but still in the curtained area of the clinic. Most likely there weren’t patient rooms. The clinic was mostly for emergencies and such. Anything to do with actual hospitals was done off the island.

I wore a cream-colored hospital gown with small, blue, flowers sprinkled on it. As best I could tell, I still had panties on but otherwise was naked under the cotton gown. My wavy hair bunched around my shoulders.

“Now how do you feel?” the doctor asked. She checked my eyes with her small light. “Follow my fingers.”

I did what she told me.

“Any light-headedness?”

“No.”

“Good. Your X-rays came back. You have a slight concussion and broke your right thumb in three places.”

I glanced at my thumb and frowned.

“There’s nothing more we can do than splint it. But it means you can’t use it for six weeks.”

“Wait. No! How will I make fudge?”

“I understand you have people who can help you with that. You’ve got twenty-five stitches in your right forearm, a couple nasty contusions on your shoulder, and we took out about twenty pieces of glass and wood from shallow cuts in your back. You will want to sleep on your stomach for a while until those heal. Other than that, you’re good. You were lucky. Your lungs are clear.”

“I smell singed,” I commented, surprised that I could smell anything with the oxygen being pumped through my nostrils.

“It’s your hair. It got a little hot at the initial blast.” The doctor turned to a person behind her. “This is Nurse Goldberg.”

“Hi.” The young woman with black hair and cream-colored skin stepped out of the corner.

“Hello,” I said.

“She’ll get you some water and lunch,” the doctor said. “Once you eat, I’ll check your vitals one more time and you’ll be free to go home.”

“Thanks,” I said.

She smiled. “You have a room full of visitors. I promised Rex Manning he could see you first. Are you up to questions?”

“Yes.” I took the glass of water the nurse handed me. “You wouldn’t have any mouthwash, would you? I feel like I’ve got cotton in my mouth and don’t want to talk to people if I have bad breath.”

Dr. Seager laughed a bell-like sound. Her even teeth gleamed in the hospital light and her hazel eyes twinkled. “I suppose I’d feel the same way when faced with Trent Jessop and Rex Manning.”

“A brush for my hair would be nice, too.” As I sipped water, I couldn’t help but smile at my own vanity.

“Nurse Goldberg will help you get cleaned up before we let them back in. How’s that sound?”

“Sound’s perfect. “Thank-you!”

 

 

Thirty minutes later, I was feeling better already. I had been allowed to visit the restroom, wash my face and hands, brush my hair and teeth, and felt more human. The oxygen was put away as my lungs were good, but I had a lovely, bright black bruise on my left cheekbone that highlighted the paleness of my skin.

“Well, this is the best I can do,” I said as I came out of the restroom pushing my IV pole.

“You look good,” Nurse Goldberg said. She was five foot two and wore a turquoise smock top, white slacks, and white shoes. Her oval face was well proportioned and her eyes were big and brown.

“So do you. How long do I need the IV?”

“Doctor says she wants you to continue until it’s done. Then we’ll take it out.”

I glanced to see that there was a third of the fluid left in the bag.

“It will be done by the time you finish your meal,” she said as she helped me back into the bed.

I leaned back and winced. I’d already forgotten that my back was tender. I scooted up to sit straight.

“I’ve got a nice ice pack that will help with that,” she said and left to get it.

I tucked the blankets in around my bare legs.

The nurse came back in with a thin pad the size of a pillow. “This is kept in the freezer. We’ll put it behind you for ten minutes and try to ease some of the swelling.” She covered it with a piece of thin cotton and tucked the cold pad behind me. “How’s that?”

I leaned back gently. “It feels good. Thanks!”

“I’ll let Officer Manning in and go get you some lunch.” She ducked behind the curtain and a few minutes later Rex stepped in.

He wore his finely pressed uniform, his hat tucked under his arm. His shoes shined. “How are you?”

“Starving,” I said and sent him a wry smile. “Seems I missed dinner and most of the night yesterday and breakfast this morning.”

“Doc says you had a mild concussion.”

“I guess explosions can do that to you.”

He nodded and pulled out his notebook. “You called in the fire.”

“Yes. Mal and I were walking back from Henry Schulte’s aunt’s house. By the way, I missed your press statement, didn’t I?”

“Let’s talk about one thing at a time,” Rex said his expression solemn. “You were walking Mal . . .”

“Right.” I closed my eyes to help remember what happened. “I was walking Mal when she started tugging on her leash. I’ve learned to simply go whenever she wants to go off the path.”

“You followed your pup.”

“Yes.” I opened my eyes to see him writing notes. “She must have smelled the fire first. I was halfway between the two bungalows when I smelled it. At first, I thought maybe someone was having a cookout, but when I rounded the corner, I saw that the shed was on fire. So I called Charlene.”

“You called Charlene right away.”

“Yes.” I no longer took his statements personally. I figured he was simply stating the facts as I gave them to him. “Once I explained what was on fire, Charlene suggested I step back, but it was too late. I’d realized what she meant at the moment the shed exploded. I had enough time to grab Mal, turn my back, and duck. The next thing I was aware of was George Marron touching me. I have no idea how he got there so fast.”

“George was in the area because Henry Schulte’s aunt Dorothy was having chest pains,” Rex said.

“Oh, no. Is she all right?”

“Yes, it was the shock from my finding Henry in her basement.”

“Henry was hiding in his aunt’s basement and she didn’t know it?”

“One thing at a time,” Rex said, steering me back to the shed. “Did you see anyone before you saw the fire?”

“No.” I drew my eyebrows together. “No, the street was empty. I didn’t think it was unusual. That area usually has the summer temp staff and most work that late in the afternoon.”

“Did you see anyone in the backyard? Anyone near the shed?”

“No. Did the firemen find anyone in the shed?” I had a sudden horrifying thought that someone could have died in the explosion.

“No,” Rex said. “It looks like an accelerant was used on the side of the shed.”

“Similar to the pool house?” I asked.

“It could be. It’s still—”

“Under investigation,” I finished.

“Right.”

“I didn’t see anyone.” I frowned. “I wasn’t even aware of any curtains moving or anyone inside the houses. That’s why I called Charlene right away. I figured no one was home to report the fire.”

“Okay.” Rex put his notepad away. “You’ll let me know if you remember anything else. Right?”

“I always do. Now, about Henry Schulte . . .”

Rex’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “You can read about it in the paper.”

“Mean.” I pouted. “You are so mean.”

He laughed with his head thrown back. His dark eyes twinkled and his muscled shoulders shook. “Glad to see you are going to be just fine.”

Nurse Goldberg came in carrying a plastic tray of food. It looked like an old school tray. She put it on the bedside table and adjusted it so that it was in front of me. “There you go.”

I took note of the coffee, cup of broth, and Jell-O. “Oh. Clear liquid diet?”

“Only lunch,” she said with a smile. “It’s been awhile since you have eaten. There will be plenty of time for steak later.”

“Enjoy,” Rex said with a grin.

“You only say that because you don’t have to eat it,” I said.

He chuckled and left me to Nurse Goldberg.

I looked at her. “Seriously? No burger and French fries?”

She looked at me with a smile. “I’m certain your family will get you some when you go home. For now, let’s make sure you can eat this and keep it down. Okay?”

“Okay.” I took the plastic wrap off the top of the cup of broth and spooned some out. My thoughts went back to the scene of the fire. Someone had to start that fire. Who?

A sense of dread crept down my spine. Had the arsonist still been there when I arrived? Don’t they like to watch things burn? If so, they know I called in yet another of their fires.

The worst part was, they knew who I was, but I had no clue who they were.

Chapter 16

“Well, you are a sight!” my mom declared when she entered the apartment and saw me on the couch.

“Hi Mom,” I said as she embraced me in a tight, painful full-body hug which was hard to do since I was sitting down. Mostly my entire torso was squeezed into Mom’s Chanel sweater set and Calvin Klein jeans.

“Now, let me see the damage.” She pushed me away. Her strong hands grabbed my chin and turned my head this way and that.

“Ow!” I said through fish lips.

“Look at that bruise!” She grabbed my splinted hand. “And your thumb! How are you going to make fudge with a splint on?”

“I’m going to make the fudge, Mrs. McMurphy,” Sandy said from her perch on the footstool next to the chair where Jenn sat.

Frances had opened the apartment door to let my parents in. My father followed my mother, huffing and puffing with his arms full of suitcases.

“Hi Dad,” I said from my seated position. “You can put the suitcases in the master bedroom.”

“Nonsense,” Mom said. “We’ll take a room. Frances, there is a room free for us, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” Frances said with a slight smile. “I ensured the blue room was free before I called you.”

“The blue room on the second floor?” Dad asked.

“Yes, two-twelve. I have the key waiting downstairs.”

“Wish someone would have told me before I lugged the bags up here.”

“The elevator works,” Mr. Devaney said from his perch on the bar stool on the living room side of the breakfast bar. He sat with his arms crossed. His dark blue cardigan matched the blue in his blue and red and orange plaid cotton shirt. He wore deep navy corduroy pants and dark brown deck shoes.

Frances took the bags from my dad and placed them near the door. “I’ll have one of the interns deliver these to your room.”

“You have interns?” Dad’s eyebrows rose.

“Yes, two,” I said as he came toward me and kissed me on the cheek. “I budgeted for them. Papa approved it last fall.”

“Huh.” Dad patted me absently on the head. “How are you, kiddo?”

“I’m a little worse for wear,” I said and hugged him. “Good to see you, Daddy.”

He hugged me back. “Good to be here.” He wore a light blue chambray shirt, the neck open and the sleeves rolled to three-quarter length, and dark-wash jeans with brown deck shoes.

Dad was still handsome in his late fifties. His dark brown hair had gray along the sides and was thinner on top than I remembered. His hazel eyes sparkled with pride as he looked around. “You’ve made this your own. He turned back to look at me. “Looks like you’ve filled it with friends.”

“Oh, Daddy, let me introduce you.” I sat up straighter. “You remember Frances.” I pointed to her first, then to Mr. Devaney at the bar. “Mr. Devaney is my new handyman.”

Dad went over to him. “Nice to meet you.” The two men shook hands.

“You remember Jenn from school, don’t you?” I asked.

Dad turned to Jenn and smiled. “Of course. How are you?”

“I’m well, Mr. McMurphy,” Jenn said as she stood to give Dad a hug. “How have you been?”

“Better, now that I’m here to see my kid for myself.”

“This is Sandy Everheart,” I said as she rose to her full height of five foot four. Her long black hair hung in a single braid down her back. She and Jenn both wore the standard McMurphy uniform of pink polo shirt with the McMurphy logo above the left breast pocket and black slacks with serviceable shoes. “She is a chocolatier who studied in New York City. She’s been a great asset this year.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dad said and shook Sandy’s hand. “I hear very good things about you.” He looked over her head at me. “You need to include her in next year’s budget.”

“I have.” I felt the heat of a blush rush up my battered cheeks. “Plus I’ve offered her the use of the kitchen for her own chocolatier business.”

“Smart choice.” Dad winked at Sandy.

“Finally, Daddy, this is Trent Jessop,” I said as Trent rose from the chair on the opposite side of me.

“Yes, I remember.” Dad stuck out his hand. “How are you doing, son?”

“I’m well, sir.”

It was so weird to see the two men in my life in the same room face-to-face. It was even weirder to hear Dad call a buff guy like Trent
son
.

“How are your mom and dad?” Dad asked. “I believe I saw them last year at the yacht club.”

“Yes, you did,” Trent said. “My parents are well. I’ll let them know you asked about them.”

“Mom,” I said. “You remember Trent.”

“I do,” Mom said and gave Trent a smothering hug. “How are you, dear?”

“I’m good, Mrs. McMurphy.” He patted her awkwardly on the back. “Good to see you.”

Mom let him go. “Well. Good to see that everyone is here and taking good care of my baby.”

As Trent sat on the arm of the couch, Mal popped up and pawed at her for attention.

Mom bent and picked up the pup. “Hello little one.” She gave Mal a squeeze and a scratch behind the ears.

“Is this the girl who keeps getting you in trouble?” Dad asked as he gave Mal a pat on the head.

“She usually keeps me
out
of trouble,” I protested. “This time, she was showing me that something bad was going on. She likes to keep me posted on what is going on around me.”

“Did you find that fire?” Mom cooed and hugged Mal. “You are such a good puppy. Don’t listen to that mean man.” She gave Dad a look and then took Mal to the kitchen to get a treat from the ever-present treat jar that sat on the counter.

Dad shook his head and sat down in the chair that Trent had vacated. “This is not the first fire you found, is it?”

“No,” I said. “We found the pool house on fire just a couple days ago.”

Dad shook his head. “Strange to have an arsonist on the island. It’s so small. It’s almost like he or she wants to get caught.”

“Or they can’t help themselves, but they’ve gone too far.” Trent reached for my hand. “One man was found dead in the warehouse fire and now they’ve hurt someone else. The entire island is on alert.” He kissed the back of my hand. “We’ll get this guy.”

“You think it’s a man?” Mom asked as she came out of the kitchen and put a contented Mal down.

Mal came over and leapt up into my lap. I winced at the contact.

Trent picked her out of my lap and held her in his. The dog was perfectly content. “Arsonists are more likely to be male.”

“Are you an expert?” Dad asked.

“No, I Googled the profile.”

“Oh,” Dad said with a nod. “I see. So we are on alert for a male fire starter. Is there anything else these fires have in common?”

“Officer Manning is looking into that,” Frances said. “We haven’t spotted any pattern, except for the fact that the fires have moved on from small fires in the park areas to the housing area of the island.”

“And the arsonist most likely knows who I am,” I said. Everyone in the room looked at me. “Well, they say that arsonists stay to watch the fire. I’ve been in two locations. The arsonist has to know who I am.”

“That means they know Mal is finding the fires and keeping the burns short,” Jenn said thoughtfully.

I frowned. “You don’t think they will come after my puppy, do you?”

“Arsonists are generally more interested in the fire than anything.” Trent patted Mal. “I think she’s safe.”

“I worry.” I chewed on my bottom lip.

“You’ve been through a trauma,” Mom said as she sat beside me. “You should see someone.”

I drew my eyebrows together. “I saw my doctor. I promise, I’ll go back in ten days when my stitches need to come out.”

Mom patted my hand. “No, dear. You need to see a counselor. You’ve been through some shocks in the last few months.”

“What? No. I’m fine.” I felt a blush rush up my cheeks. “Really, Mom, let’s not talk about my mental health in front of my boyfriend and my entire hotel staff.”

She reached for her purse, pulling it toward her from where she’d left it on the end table. “I know the perfect person to call.” She pulled out her wallet and dug out a card. “Dr. Mackay is great with trauma. My friend Anna’s daughter went to see her after a severe car accident.”

I waved off the card. “I’m fine.”

“See her,” Mom said forcefully, putting the card in my hand. “I can have her call you if you prefer.”

“I’d prefer not to have anyone call me,” I said and took the card. Sometimes protesting only made a bigger deal out of something. Sometimes it was simply easier to agree to whatever Mom proposed at the time and then simply let it go.

“How’s the fireworks show coming along?” Dad asked. “I understand that you lost your pyro technician in an explosion.”

“Oh! The pyro technician,” I exclaimed at the reminder. “I was in the middle of negotiations with the new guy. I need to check my e-mails.”

“I’ve taken care of it,” Trent said, patting Mal absently.

“You took care of it?” I parroted, confused.

“After they told us last night that they were keeping you overnight for a mild concussion, I talked to Jenn.”

My gaze went from Trent to Jenn.

She smiled at me. “I knew you would worry.”

“She asked me to take over the negotiations,” Trent said. “So I called the guy. He said yes the moment I explained that Rex had arrested a suspect in Rodney Rivers’ murder.”

“That was what I was going to do.” I slumped my shoulders and relaxed against the pillow. It still stung to lean back, but not as bad since I’d taken a pain pill. “Please tell me you didn’t tell him about the latest fire and explosion. He was convinced I have bad luck and he might use it as an excuse to back out.”

“I didn’t tell him,” Trent said. “I explained that he didn’t even have to set foot on the island to do the show. Then I added a twenty percent bonus and he agreed to do it.”

“Did you tell the fireworks committee?” I asked. “Because Mrs. Amerson wasn’t certain I would get it done.”

“I told them.” He picked up my hand again and kissed it. “Don’t worry. The committee has nothing to complain about.” He glanced up at my parents. “You should stay through the weekend and enjoy the shows. Allie is certain to be a huge success.”

“Thanks to Jenn and Trent.” I squeezed his hand.

“We plan on it,” Dad said. “Since we’re here, we thought we’d stay the rest of the week and watch the shows and the other celebrations.”

“There is going to be a big picnic in the park,” Jenn said. “I plan on having baskets catered and inviting our guests to picnic on the lawn or one of the great vantage sites for the fireworks.”

“That’s a great idea. Picnics in the parks and fireworks can be so romantic.” Mom smiled at my father. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

“I remember a few good ones,” Dad said with a wink.

“Allie and I have a picnic date set,” Trent said. “Would you like to come with us?”

“That might be fun,” Dad said.

My eyes grew large as I looked from Dad to Mom. I’m certain that I sent Mom a look of
please-don’t-come-on-my-date-with-me
.

“Thanks for the offer,” Mom said smoothly, but we have plans for the Fourth.”

“We do?” Dad drew his eyebrows together.

“Yes.” Mom raised her right eyebrow. “We do.”

“Okay.”

Frances stood and Mr. Devaney stood with her. “Well, it’s been quite the day. We should be getting home.”

“We’ll see you in the morning,” Mr. Devaney said to me. He turned to my parents and shook their hands. “Nice to meet you both. You have a hardworking daughter. You should be proud.”

I was surprised. Mr. Devaney was usually gruff and never gave out praise. It was nice to hear him say that.

“We are proud,” my dad said. “Thanks for your help with the McMurphy. She’s getting up there in years so I know the daily list of things that need worked on.”

“Gives me a reason to get up in the morning,” Mr. Devaney replied and then walked Frances out the door.

Sandy stood next. “I’ve got to make it an early night. I’m making fudge at five
AM
tomorrow.”

“I have a list of five recipes for tomorrow,” I said as she shook my parents’ hands.

“I look forward to it.” Sandy turned to Mom and Dad, “Nice to meet you both.”

“Well,” Mom said as we watched Sandy leave, “she is a very nice girl.” To Dad, she said, “And, dear, you should see what kind of miracles she works in chocolate.”

“You’ve told me.” Dad stood. “We’ll leave you young ones to your night. I’m exhausted.”

“I’ll ring Mike to come get your suitcases,” I said and reached for my cell phone.

“Don’t bother.” Dad picked up the four suitcases, two stacked in each hand. “If you can get the door, honey, I’ll take care of these myself.”

“Got it.” Mom kissed my cheek then went to the door and held it open for Dad. “Sweet dreams, Allie.”

“Good night, Mom.”

The door closed behind them and I heard them talking in the hall, their voices muffled. But I think Dad was telling Mom that I looked good . . . considering.

I closed my eyes and rested my head against the back of the couch. Jenn got up and went to the kitchen. Trent sat down beside me and I tilted my head against his broad shoulder. Mal climbed up on the couch beside me.

“Long day,” Trent said.

“I should not be this tired,” I said. “I’ve done nothing but rest for almost all day.”

“Your mom’s right,” Jenn said, coming back into the living room with a glass of ice tea in both hands. She handed me one and handed Trent the other. “You should see someone about the trauma.”

“I think trying to impress Mrs. Amerson gave me more trauma than finding Rodney dead.”

“Trauma is not something to ignore.” Trent rubbed my forearm, careful to stay away from the bandaged part.

“Is this a conspiracy?” I asked and raised my head to look my boyfriend in the eye.

He kissed me. It was a nice, slow, gentle kiss. “People care about you,” he said against my lips.