Oh Say Can You Fudge (3 page)

 

Butter 8x8x2-inch cake pan.

Mix cream cheese, sifted powdered sugar, butter, almond extract, and vanilla extract until smooth and thick. Hint: the amount of powdered sugar will depend on how thick you want the fudge. Start by adding 4 cups and then the last 2 cups in ½ cup increments until the fudge is smooth and thick.

When the base is smooth and thick, add coconut and almonds until combined. Scoop into buttered pan and pat smooth with wooden spoon.

Score 1-inch pieces with butter knife.

Refrigerate for 2-3 hours. Remove from pan and split into pieces. Serve in individual paper candy holders or on platter. Store leftovers away from heat in covered container.

 

Enjoy!

Chapter 3

I didn’t have to wait long to hear from Trent.

When my phone rang, I was soaking in a tub of bubbles and sloshed around as I reached for it. Technically, I had been banned from answering my phone while in the bathtub for sort of obvious reasons. Okay, I tended to drop my phone, and phones and bathwater don’t exactly mix.

Not surprising, I was still recovering from today’s fright and didn’t think past the fact that my phone was ringing and it could be Rex saying he was downstairs ready to interview me. I held the phone out of the tub, hit ANSWER and SPEAKER and carefully placed it on the stand next to the claw foot tub in my bathroom. “Hello?”

“Allie, are you answering the phone while taking a bath?” Trent’s deep warm voice came out of the phone.

“Maybe . . . how—?”

“I heard sloshing and figured it was either the tub or the lake. I prefer to think about you in the tub.”

“Oh.” I felt the rush of heat from a blush go up my neck. “Hi, Trent. I answered the phone because I thought maybe you were Rex.”

“Okay, I’m going to wait for you to explain that before I get worried. Should I be worried, Allie?”

“No, no.” I grabbed the phone as if bringing it closer to me would bring him closer to me. “Rex is stopping by to question me.”

“And I repeat, should I be worried?”

I laughed. “No, I’m fine. There was an incident this afternoon, but I’m fine. The fireworks on the other hand are not so fine.” I explained what had happened as I sank back into the bubbles and leaned the back of my neck on the curve of the tub. “And so Rex is stopping by to ask some questions. How was your day?”

“Not nearly as eventful as yours,” Trent said. “I’ve picked up a couple new draft horses. I’ve got two animals that I’m retiring this year and I’m looking at breeding some better carriage stock.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“You mean boring.” He laughed.

“I don’t know anything about horses.” I sighed at the disappearing bubbles in my bath. “I was in the kitchen when all the other girls were out learning to ride. I sort of look at horses as big dogs—pretty but tough to clean up after.”

That made him laugh a deep, rich, belly laugh. “I take it you don’t know much about dogs, either.”

“Mal is my first,” I admitted. “My mom and dad weren’t really into pets.”

“You missed out,” he said softly. “Remind me when I get back to take you around to see the stables. We’ll have you riding like a pro in no time.”

“I don’t think you know me that well,” I said in semi-seriousness. “Coordination is not high on my list.”

“That just means you need more practice. I’m looking forward to practicing.”

“Oh.” I was blushing again. Not that anyone could tell. “When do you come back?”

“I’ll be back tomorrow. Can we have dinner?”

“Sure, as long as I’m square with Rex.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Should I wear riding boots?” I teased.

“Dress pretty. There are other things I’d like to do with you than put you on top of a horse.”

I was left speechless after that comment and let my imagination fill in the blanks. “Okay. Pretty it is.”

“Good night, Allie.”

“Good night, Trent.” I hit the END button on my phone and couldn’t stop smiling. The water had grown cold and I leaned over and put the phone back on the stand and stood to grab a towel when the ring startled me. I reached for the phone and it slipped in my hands, barely escaping a drop in the tub. “Hello?” I said as I stepped onto the aqua bath mat and snagged a big white fluffy towel. “Trent?”

“Hi Allie, it’s Rex. I’m on my way over. Are you still up for some questions?”

“Oh, sure. I’m getting out of the bath now, so give me about fifteen minutes and I’ll be downstairs.”

Dead silence on the other end of the phone.

“Rex?”

“Sorry.” His voice sounded strange. “You
were
in the bathtub or you
are
in the bathtub?”

“I’m just stepping out. I promise, I’ll be down really quick. Jenn made extra coffee and Frances has some cookies she brought over. Help yourself.”

“Okay.”

“Great. Bye.” I hung up the phone and wrapped my hair in a towel. I slipped on panties and a bra and then comfy yoga pants and a soft green T-shirt.

Jenn and Mal were heading into the apartment as I headed out. “Hi guys.” I held the door open for Mal who decided she was going to wait and see where I was going before she crossed the threshold and got stuck in the apartment.

“Rex is downstairs waiting for you,” Jenn said. “I told him we’d come and get you.”

“Yes, he called to let me know he would be here soon.” I closed the door so that we were all going down the stairs.

The McMurphy was a boxy square building with four floors. The top floor was the owners apartment—mine now—along with the business office which I shared with Jenn who was my acting hospitality manager. I’d met her in college when I was studying hotel management. She was getting a hospitality degree in hopes of running her own event planning company. She’d given up her dream to spend my first season with me on Mackinac Island and had taken to the island like a duck takes to water.

Two floors of guests rooms were under the apartment. They were serviced by staircases on the end of each hall with two elevators that ran in the middle. We took the stairs because they were faster.

“Oh, Mr. Devaney said that the west elevator needs servicing again,” Jenn said as we walked down the second set of stairs that spilled into the wide lobby area. “It’s starting to stick. He had to pry the doors open for the Clemons family in three-o-two.”

“Ugh. Those elevators are costing me a fortune.”

“You can take them out,” Jenn suggested. “But I think that limits your guests. Quite a few have difficulty with the stairs.”

“I suppose I could put in a really long switched back ramp,” I paused and studied the floor space of the lobby from the vantage point of a few stairs up. “No, that’s a really bad idea.”

“I don’t know,” Jenn said eyeing the same piece of real estate. “Let me see about bringing an architect in. There might be something we can do.”

“It has to be wheelchair accessible,” I said. “Papa was firm about being available for persons with disabilities. It was why he made the over-sized bathroom in room two-o-one and insisted on showers for all the bathrooms when we moved from the one bathroom per hallway to all en suite baths. He wanted his older clients to be able to safely walk in and out of the bath.”

“What are you two discussing?” Frances asked from the bottom of the steps. “Officer Manning is waiting, Allie.”

I continued down the stairs as I answered her. “We were talking about whether or not we could remove the elevators.”

“Why? I like them,” Frances said.

The elevators in question were actually small boxes, relics from an earlier time. The doors were ornate grates that allowed a view of the lobby before disappearing up the shaft. Once the car stopped at a floor, it was necessary to open the other side of the elevator to step out onto the floor.

“They are quaint,” Jenn said, “But in constant need of maintenance. Someday, you will have to put in new ones. There won’t be anyone alive who knows how to fix these.”

“There isn’t much to fix,” Mr. Devaney said. “I’d do the work myself, but you need a certified guy to sign off for the safety inspector.” He was my cantankerous handyman. About six feet tall, he was a retired teacher with a balding head on top and thick hair on the sides cut very close and gray in color. He always dressed, well . . . like a teacher. He wore brown corduroy slacks and a pale blue dress shirt open at the collar, showing a T-shirt underneath. The sleeves were rolled up to the elbow exposing brawny forearms. On his feet were comfortable brown leather slip-on shoes.

“I’m going to have an architect come in and see what he has to say about it,” Jenn said from her perch on the stairs behind me.

Unconcerned about the elevators, Mal had rushed down the stairs and jumped up into Rex’s lap as he sat in one of the wingback chairs scattered in the open area between the twin staircases. He had showered and changed into a new uniform.

Come to think of it, he always wore a uniform when he stopped by on police business. It was as if his uniform helped him maintain some distance in his role as an officer and as a neighbor. He lived a ways away, but on an island as small as Mackinac everyone was considered a neighbor.

“Hi Rex. I see Mal has made herself at home,” I walked over to him. “Do you want to come up into my office so we have a quiet place to talk?”

“That would be best.” Rex stood, carefully putting Mal down on the floor.

I noticed then that she had grown quite fluffy. I would need to have a fluffy intervention this week and take her to the groomer. Unfortunately, groomers were as dreaded by Mal as hair salons were by me. I could grow my hair out. Mal, on the other hand, had to be groomed. As a non-shed dog, her hair would grow quite long. The longer it got the fluffier she got. I kept her groomed in a short puppy coat. Show Bichons had four-inch long coats. I couldn’t imagine the daily grooming that went into that. As it was, I had to brush her every day to keep her short coat from matting.

“Can I bring you up a tray with coffee, tea, and some cookies?” Frances asked as we walked by my small team to head up the stairs.

“Thanks,” I said.

“No need to bother,” Rex said at the same time. “This won’t take long.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, we can stay down here then.” I sent my crew a look. “They were all heading up to the apartment. Weren’t you?”

They agreed. “Sure.” “Right.”

“Well, there are a few cookies left on the coffee bar.” Frances picked up Mal and made sure my puppy went up with the rest of them.

“Do they always gather in your apartment at night?” Rex asked.

“We’re a big family,” I said with a small shrug. “I like the company.” I waved him back over toward two overstuffed chairs that faced each other across the rag rug in the heart of the lobby.

The McMurphy was quiet this time of night. At a certain point, the ferries quit running. The entire Main Street closed up except for a couple bars and the hotel restaurants. Life on Mackinac was intentionally quiet and slow. The bigger hotels had front yards where fire pits were lit and marshmallows toasted. People would sit outside and talk until the cold or the mosquitos drove them back inside.

The coffee bar was on the east side of the lobby near the other set of stairs. The fudge shop area was closed off by glass walls and the work area was separated from the viewing area by a long thick glass counter where the trays of fudge were displayed.

Across from the fudge shop was a small settee, two chairs, and a fireplace. Frances’s reception desk was tucked up near the staircase I came down. Behind her large bar-like desk was a wall of slots that held mail or notes for each guest room. People could leave their keys in the cubby knowing that they were never left alone. After nine
PM
the doors were locked and guests had to carry their keys to access the entrance to the lobby.

“Do you have an identification on the dead guy?” I asked. “Like I said at the warehouse, I’m pretty sure it was Rodney Rivers.”

“We are unable to make an official identification at this time. Not much was left of the body. We also suspect it was Rodney. No one has seen or heard from him since this morning. As I recall, you received a couple calls from him.” Rex sat, took out a notepad and a pen, and leaned toward me.

“Yes, I’ve got three calls from him all time stamped.” I took my cell phone out of my pocket. “I got caught up in fudge making for the Star-Spangled Fourth celebration and didn’t think to check my phone.” I put in my password, then flipped through the recent calls section. “He called me three times, see?” I showed Rex my phone. He took down a note. “If you want, I’ll play the voice messages for you, again.”

“Yes, I’d like that if you are willing to let me listen.”

“Sure.” I dialed my voice mail box and put the phone on speaker.

“You have two new message and two saved messages,” the phone’s messaging system said. “First unheard message sent today at five
P.M.
‘Hi Allie, this is Trent. I was just calling to see how your day was going and to ask what you were wearing.”

My eyes grew big and I touch the speaker button to mute the rest of the message. “Sorry.” The heat of a blush rushed up my neck and into my cheeks. “Hold on.” I put the phone up to my ear and looked away from Rex as Trent’s sexy message continued.

I couldn’t help the smile that appeared on my face at the rest of the message. Trent Jessop, handsome, wealthy, and overall sexy good guy was leaving me hot messages. That did so much for my poor shabby ego.

“Second unheard message,” the phone said. I pulled it away from my ear and hit
SPEAKER
. “Sent today at one-o-three
PM
. ‘Hi Allie. Rodney again. There is something really wrong going on here at the warehouse. It looks like the padlocks have all been cut and the magazines opened. Call me back. This is important. The fireworks show might be in jeopardy.’

“End of message,” the phone droned. “To delete this message press seven. To save it press nine.”

“First saved message, sent today at twelve thirty-four
PM
.” ‘Allie, we’ve got a problem. Meet me at the fireworks warehouse as soon as possible. The entire program is in ruins.’

“End of message,” the phone droned. “To delete this message press seven. To save it press nine.”

I pressed the nine key.

Rex wrote notes, his head down, his gaze on his paper. I assumed it helped him to listen if he wasn’t looking at me.

“Next saved message,” the phone went on. “Sent today at 1:30
PM
. ‘Allie, answer your phone, will you? This is serious and time sensitive. The entire back row of fireworks has been tampered with—Hey, you. What are you doing here? Are you responsible for—’