Oh Say Can You Fudge (5 page)

“Oh, no, not another murder,” My mother’s tone turned serious. “That’s one a month since you got there. I don’t like that kind of trend. Are you safe?”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “I’m safe, Mom. Really, it’s simply been a run of unusual things. But I’m in charge of the fireworks and now I have to get us an entirely new show. I have calls in to his business partner. It’s just that we don’t have a lot of time left and I know that the supply of professional, arsenal-style fireworks can’t be so big that we will have our choice of shows now.”

“Surely they have insurance to cover any incidents,” Mom said. “I’ll ask my cousin Helen. She’s the one who recommended them. Maybe she can point us in the right direction to get this taken care of.”

“Really?” I asked, hope rising in my chest.

“Sure. I’ll call her and let you know.”

“Great.” I slumped with relief. “Could you? Tell her to let them know there are multiple shows. If they go well, we can negotiate a long-term contract.”

“I’ll tell her,” Mom reassured me. ”I’ll let you know what she says.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome. Come visit us soon, okay? Before it’s fall?”

“I’ll do my best,” I said. “Bye.”

Maybe, just maybe we’d get lucky and my mom’s cousin Helen would come through for us. In the meantime, I would Google the world’s best pyrotechnic groups and see if I couldn’t find someone who was not only really good, but also wasn’t under contract to already do a show those nights.

I had a feeling I was going to have to get very, very lucky.

 

Butter 8x8x2 inch cake pan.

Mix butter, milk, unprepared instant pudding, vanilla. Add powdered sugar 1 cup at a time until you reach the desired thickness. Fold in banana chips.

Scoop into prepared pan. Pat until smooth. Score into 1-inch pieces with butter knife.

Refrigerate for 2-3 hours until set. Break into 1-inch pieces along score. Serve in individual paper candy cups or on a platter. Store leftover in covered container in the refrigerator.

 

Enjoy!

Chapter 5

Trent showed up at my door with a bouquet of gorgeous flowers in his hand and a bottle of merlot.

“Hi,” I said as I opened the door. Simply by looking at him, my heart was all aflutter.

The epitome of tall, dark and handsome, he stood a head taller than me with gorgeous brown eyes that were rimmed with black lashes a woman would envy. He had a long straight nose, a square jaw, and a mouth that made me want to sink my teeth into it. His skin glowed a golden tan.

Tonight, he wore a tan shirt with an open collar, a dark brown velvet suit jacket, and light brown slacks. His brown shoes had square toes.

“You look amazing,” he said.

I smiled and did a little twirl, causing the skirt of my sleeveless, red dress to bell out. “You said to dress pretty. Is this pretty enough?”

“Oh, now you’re fishing for compliments.” His voice had a low tremble that made gooseflesh rise on my arms.

“Yes,” I said, owning up to my need for validation. “Yes, I am. So please give it to me.”

He stepped into the apartment and handed me the flowers. “You are stunning. Let’s stay in and take that off—”

“Wait.” I held up my hand in a motion of
stop
. A blush rushed up my cheeks. “I like the sound of that, but it took me an hour to get dressed. So you have to take me out.”

He grinned and bussed a kiss on my cheek. “I suppose I can wait.”

“Good.” I walked over to the galley kitchen separated from the living room area by a breakfast bar. I put the flowers on the counter and reached into the cupboard underneath to pull out a vase. Filling the vase with water, I smiled. “What do you have in mind for tonight?”

“There’s a social over at the yacht club. I need to see a couple guys to talk business.”

I turned and let my disappointment show on my face. “Oh, and here I thought it was going to be a romantic dinner.”

“It will be,” he promised and set the bottle of merlot on the counter. “There’s no reason I can’t mix a little business with pleasure. Besides, I want to show you off.”

I picked up the flowers and stuck them in the water without taking the time to trim or arrange them. “Okay, so that last part makes me feel a little bit better.”

Trent’s expression turned to one of concern. He reached over and took my hand and held it up. “What happened?” he asked as he brought my cut and bruised hands to the light.

“Yesterday’s explosion,” I explained.

“Explosion? You didn’t say anything about an explosion.” His eyebrows drew in closer. A muscle on his jawbone ticked and his sensuous mouth went flat. He gently ran his thumb across the back of my hand. “You were in an explosion. Was that what happened with the fireworks?”

“Yes.” I felt the color in my face rise. I didn’t expect him to look so upset. “You should see the other guy,” I teased.

“There was another guy?” His eyes narrowed.

“Oh, boy.” I sighed and walked around the bar and drew him to the couch to sit with me. “I had hoped to tell you over dinner. You know, when you ask me about my day.”

“I don’t think the yacht club is the appropriate place to tell this story.” He gathered me against him. “I’m just going to hold on to you while you tell me. Please tell me you were not near the explosion.”

“Well, see, now I can’t do that.” I leaned back against his chest and felt his heart racing under me.

He put his arms around me and took my hands in his. “Then tell me what happened from the beginning.”

“I got a call from the pyro technician I’d hired to do the fireworks show for the Fourth of July. Really, I got three calls because I got caught up making fudge and forgot to check my phone.”

“You do get caught up in your fudge.” He slipped his fingers between mine and rubbed them gently. I could feel him smile as he kissed the top of my head. “Go on.”

“The last message Rodney sent asked me to come to the warehouse as soon as possible. Someone had messed with the fireworks.”

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t he call the police?”

“I don’t think he thought it was anything he couldn’t handle. He’s been working with these things for twenty years. I’m pretty sure he wanted to figure out logistics for bringing in new fireworks or he wanted to discuss what to do about the price of replacement fireworks. Those would be things I would need to handle.”

“Okay. So you went up to the warehouse? Which warehouse?”

“The big cinder block one near the airport. Rodney had brought in magazines and stored them in the warehouse. I rode my bike up and left it—” I paused.

“What?”

“There was another bike when I got there.” I sat up fast. So fast I narrowly missed hitting Trent’s chin with my head. I turned to him, my eyes large with concern. “There were two bikes there when I arrived, but after the explosion one of the bikes was gone.” I scrambled up, went over to the breakfast bar, and took my cell phone out of the date-night handbag I’d chosen to take tonight. “I need to call Rex.”

“Hey now,” Trent said, staying my hand. “I’m sure Rex doesn’t need this information tonight.”

I paused and looked into his handsome face. “Are you sure?”

“What would he do with the information?”

“He could track down the bike.”

“In the dark?” Trent pointed to the windows to show me that our eight
PM
date was happening under the dew-tipped stars.

“Right. Okay.”

“We have reservations. This sounds like a long and complicated story.”

“It is.” I made a face to show my regret. “And it’s not exactly romantic.”

“So before we go, tell me. How badly are you hurt?”

I lifted my cheeks and squinted my eyes. “I’ve got a few cuts and bruises, but nothing broken.”

He took my hand and stepped back at arm’s length and twirled me around. “I hadn’t noticed the bruising on your legs earlier. I was too busy admiring the dress.”

“If you don’t want to show me off—”

“Oh, no, I’m showing you off,” he said firmly. “As my beautiful and brave date.”

“I like the sound of that.” I let go of his hand.

“I’m ready.” I put the cell phone in the night clutch and walked with him to the door. As we passed the wrought iron coatrack and umbrella stand, I snagged my white pashmina scarf and slung it around my shoulders.

Trent opened the door and I walked into the hall with him, turned and locked the door.

“Do you have a cat?” he asked.

I froze for a moment. “Not on purpose. Do you see it?”

“Yeah,” he answered and nodded.

I followed his gaze. The cat was at the top of the stairs. It looked for all the world as if it belonged there as it sat and licked its front right paw.

“We need to catch it,” I said. “Rex let it in last night and we have had the devil of a time trying to catch it.”

“It’s just a cat,” Trent said with laugher in his eyes. “You just go get it.” He strode toward the cat with confidence. “Hello cat.” He leaned down and picked it up.

I swear that the cat let him. It did not run or even mildly protest as he lifted it up and slung it over his arm so he could scratch it behind the ears.

“She’s pretty,” Trent said.

I approached the two slowly and held out my hand for the cat to sniff first. “Yes, she is. Wait.Is it a she?”

Trent laughed. “I’m pretty sure.”

I gave the cat a scratch behind the ear. At that moment, Mal decided to come bounding up the stairs. She barked, startling me. I jumped and the cat leapt out of Trent’s hands and onto the ground and the chase was on.

“Mal! No!” I called as we hurried down the stairs after the cat and dog.

Mr. and Mrs. Bertnell were coming up the staircase as the cat and dog hit the second floor and raced passed them.

“Oh!” Mrs. Bertnell cried, her hand going to her mouth, her eyes wide as she stepped to the side to let them by. Thankfully, she was wearing jeans and athletic shoes. Her sweatshirt had
W
ORLD’S
BEST
G
RANDMA
printed on it.

“What the—” Mr. Bertnell was just as startled as he high stepped it around the cat and dog as the two raced by. He also wore jeans, white athletic shoes, and a sweatshirt printed with I’
M WITH THE
W
ORLD’S
G
REATEST
G
RANDMA
.

“Sorry,” I said as Trent and I brushed by.

“Animals are a hazard in a hotel,” Mr. Bertnell shouted behind us.

“I know. Sorry,” I shouted to the ceiling, hoping it would carry up.

Trent beat me down the stairs . . . mostly because I was wearing four-inch heels. Sexy heels I might add. The sacrifice in wearing sexy heels was that I was slower. Hurrying kind of hurt my bruised body parts.

“Mal!” I shouted as the dog and cat chased round the chairs and settees in the lobby.

“Cat!” Frances exclaimed from her post behind the reception desk.

“I’ll get it,” Trent declared. Blocking the animals’ path, he swooped down to get the cat, but at the last second it dodged him. He turned to go after them when Mitzy Hanfer opened the front door to enter. She had her hands full with a paper tray filled with four ice cream cones and held the door with her elbow.

“Watch out!” Trent yelled.

But it was too late. The cat escaped out the door.

Fortunately, I had caught up to Mal by then and scooped her up before she hit Mitzy’s legs. “Sorry,” I said to Mitzy.

She looked startled and frozen to the spot. “What happened?” Her blond hair floated around her head as she glanced from me and Mal to the sidewalk behind the closed door.

“Stray cat,” I said.

“Do you have the dog?” Trent asked me.

“Yes.” I took her over to her downstairs kennel. “Bad puppy.” I put her inside and closed and locked the kennel door.

Mal’s tongue hung out and she looked pleased with herself. In fact, her expression seemed to say that while I put her in jail, she’d do it all over again if she got the chance.

“I’ll check to see if the cat’s okay.” Trent pulled open the door and headed down the street in the direction of the cat.

“Never a dull moment.” Shaking her head, Frances laughed.

“I’m sorry I let your cat out.” Mitzy was staying the week with her parents. Mackinac was a pretty safe place and the sixteen-year-old had begun a habit of going for a long walk after dark to pick up ice creams and bring them back.

“It’s okay,” I said, out of breath. I straightened to my full height. “The cat belongs out there.”

“Where did Mal find it?” Frances asked me.

“It was up on the fourth floor landing washing itself,” I said. “The cat let Trent pick it up. I was about to pet her when Mal came up and startled the cat who leapt out of Trent’s arms and, well, the rest you saw.”

“Maybe it will think twice before coming back inside the McMurphy.” Frances studied me. “You look nice.”

I adjusted my pashmina. “Thanks. We have reservations at the yacht club.”

Trent came back inside. “Sorry, no cat.” He held out his hands. “I’m going to wash up and then we can go to the club. They won’t hold our reservations much longer.” He escaped into the men’s restroom behind the staircase.

“I hope the cat is all right,” I said, drawing my eyebrows together.

“Maybe it will go home to its owner.” Frances went back to watching her computer, her reading glasses firmly resting on her nose. “Have fun. I’m locking up at nine and heading home early. Last night was a long one.”

“No problem,” I said. “See you tomorrow.”

Trent came out of the bathroom. He’d adjusted his jacket and his black hair was carefully combed back. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I said and put my arm through his. “After that little excitement, I need a drink.”

“That certainly had to be tame compared to the fireworks explosion.”

“Yes,” I said with a smile. “And certainly less bruising.”