all fudged up: a candy-coated mystery

8/14/2019 All Fudged Up: A Candy-Coated Mystery

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ALLFUDGED UP

Nancy Coco

KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

http://www.kensingtonbooks.com


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Chapter 1

I figured that, after ninety-two years of living,

Papa Liam probably had some skeletons in hiscloset. I had no idea they were real.

Not that Joe Jessop was a skeleton . . . yet. But

the man was definitely dead and lying in my

second-floor utility closet.

I dont think I screamed when I found him. You

know how they always scream on television whenthey find a dead body. I was certainly startled when

I turned on the light. Ill admit that. Who wouldnt

be when they walked in on a person lying against

the shelves with dried blood all over his face and

looking, well, lifeless.It took me a minute to figure out what to do.

Should I rush to him and feel for a pulse and try

to give him CPR? The idea made me gag since the

guy was a funny color and puffier than the last time

I saw him. Mostly I stood there thinking about what


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the right thing to do was. It was only for a few sec-onds. I was in shock. Im certain.

My next thought was I should probably run outscreaming, but that seemed silly since I hadntscreamed at first glance and I was the only personin the building. I would have to run the length ofthe hall, down two flights of stairs, and out the

building screaming and waving my hands. Yeah,Im not really that kind of person.I always thought of myself as more practical.

After all, when Papa had died suddenly, Id man-aged to step into his shoes with only a few bumps inthe road.

After his funeral, itd taken me two weeks to sub-lease my Chicago apartment, put my car in storage,and pack up my stuff. The plan all along had beenfor me to arrive on Mackinac Island in late April tohelp Papa Liam open the McMurphy Hotel andFudge Shoppe for the season. This was to be the

summer when my papa would give me all his bestadvice, see me through the day-to-day handling ofthe property, and turn over the keys to the familybusiness.

Unfortunately, I was now on my own to figureout how to keep the family business going. Papadbeen at the senior center playing pinochle,drinking whiskey, and laughing when hed suddenlyfallen face-first into the table. Just like that. Hewas gone.

Sort of like Joe Jessop. One minute he was doing

who-knows-what in my closet, and the next moment

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I was not screaming at the sight of his dead body.Life was a mystery that way.

I took my cell phone out of my pocket.9-1-1, this is Charlene, what is your emergency?Um, I opened my closet and theres a guy on

the floor. Well, not really on the floor, but mostly onthe floor. I inhaled. I think hes dead.

Is this Sarah Jane? Im not taking any more ofyour practical jokes, girl. Youre wasting the tax-payers money.

Wait The phone went dead in my hand.Well, not as dead as Joe, but dead.

Joe stared at me accusingly. I noted that his eyes

were bloodshot and his pupils pinpoints. Dont thecrime shows say strangulation causes bloodshoteyesor was that poison? I wasnt about to step far-ther into the scene and contaminate it to find out.

9-1-1, this is Charlene, what is your emergency?Hi, yes, Charlene. I tried to be reasonable.

This is Allie McMurphy over at the historicMcMurphy Hotel and Fudge Shoppe.

Pleased to make your acquaintance, Allie. Im abig fan of your papas fudge, but, you should knowthat this line is for emergencies only. If you wantto talk to me, you need to call dispatch at906.555.6600. Bye now.

Wait! Charlene hung up on me again. Imtrying, Joe, I muttered to the dead guy. He didntanswer, but then I would have run screaming if hehad . . . Which would take care of the whole

proper way to act when discovering a body thing.

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For the third time, I punched numbers into myphone. This time I called the dispatch number. At

least I hoped it was the dispatch number. I was a bitrattled and wouldnt be surprised if I accidentlycalled my mother instead.

Dispatch, this is Charlene, how can I help you?There was a moment of relief that it wasnt my

mother on the line, although she might have beena bigger help. Except for the part where the copsask why I didnt call 9-1-1.

Yes, Charlene. I tried again. This is AllieMcMurphy.

Hi Allie, how are you? I was sorry to hear about

your Papa Liam passing suddenly like that. At leasthe went doing what he loved to do best.

Did she mean cheat at cards? I sighed andglanced at the dead guy. Did Joe wink? Okay, thatthought creeped me out a little. I took a stepback. Thanks, Charlene, listen, I want to report a

dead body in my utility closet. Well, at least I thinkhes dead.

There was a long moment of silence on the otherend of the phone.

Charlene?Allie, why didnt you call 9-1-1? Everyone knows

if they find someone hurt or, God help us, dead,they call 9-1-1. They dont waste time on the dis-patch number.

Was it worth pointing out that I had called 9-1-1?No. I promise to do that next time. Can you get

someone over here?

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I turned my back on the crime scene out ofrespect for the old guy. I mean, he might have been

Papa Liams oldest rival, but that didnt mean hisdeath didnt affect his family.

I can indeed, Charlene said. Stay on the line.I could hear her searching through drawers. Holdon, one second. I need a pen.

A pen? Didnt they have some kind of computerdatabase? Or was Mackinac Island that backward?I didnt think of the place as backward. Touristymaybe. Purposely laid-back in an island sort of way,certainly. But not backward.

Found it. I heard Charlene click a pen. Okay,

now lets start with your name.Really? Charlene, its Allie. Remember?Yes, of course, I remember . . . It sounded like

she was writing something. Allie McMurphycalled at nine PM to report a possible DB. Allie,where are you?

I glanced back at Joe. Was he laughing? WasI laughing? Someone was giggling like a crazyperson.

Allie, Charlene shouted. Get ahold ofyourself.

That straightened me up. If this call was beingtaped, Im sure everyone would be wondering whyI was laughing when faced with a dead man in mycloset. Im sorry. I tried to breathe in and out andpretend I wasnt hysterical. What did you ask? Oh,right. Im at the McMurphy Hotel and Fudge

Shoppe on the second floor in the utility closet.

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All right, Charlene said as her pen scratchedaway. Stay on the line. Ill send Officer Manningover along with the EMTs.

I swallowed the laughter that threatened to spillout again. Okay, um, should I go downstairs andlet them in?

Thats probably a good idea, Charlene said.

Unless the guys not dead. Did you check for apulse?

That sobered me up. I turned to the puffy,blue/white, blood-encrusted face. I, um, didnttouch anything.

Charlene made a sound very close to a snort.

Then how do you know hes dead? For goodnesssakes, you scared the devil out of me and all for nogood reason.

Oh, no, hes dead.How can you tell? Her tone sounded impa-

tient.He looks dead. Now I was getting impatientback.

Have you ever seen a dead body before?I suppose that was a good question, but it didnt

make me happy. I wanted to lie. I really did. No. I

tried not to sigh too loudly. Then a thought oc-curred to me. Wait! I have seen a dead body. PapaLiam, of course.

She harrumphed. One that wasnt prepped bythe mortuary?

Crap. Give it up, Charlene. Im not touching

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him. In fact, Im going downstairs right now to waitat the door for the police.

Fine. Charlene huffed. But Officer Manningllbe pretty upset if this turns out to be a drunk asleepin your closet.

Wait, isnt that as bad or worse than a dead body?It would mean that some strange man was sleeping

it off in my closet. There was a lock on my third-floor apartment door, but still. Im the only one inthe hotel before the season opens. I could havebeen attacked or worse. The dead body couldhave been me. That thought made shivers go downmy spine as I scrambled down the stairs.

Please tell me someones really on their wayover here. Im afraid my voice was a tad breathlessby the time I reached the bottom of the flower-patterned carpeted stairs.

There was a knock on the glass front door of theshop, and I screamed . . . a little.

Charlene snickered in my ear. Hes there, shesaid. You can hang up now.

Great. I practically ran to the door. Youvebeen a big help, Charlene. Thanks.

Youre welcome, dear.So much for sarcasm, I thought as I answered the

door.The man outside had all the right gear on, a

complete blue officer outfit. It was dark out, but Icould see in the lamplight behind him the officialpolice bicycle complete with flashing light and

siren. I had a sudden thought that the local police

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ought to have a flashing light on the top of theirhats. A giggle slipped out.

Are you all right, Miss? The officer narrowedwhat could only be described as pretty blue eyes.They were that soft baby blue and ringed with thicklong eyelashes that curled. Miss?

Right. I opened the door wide and waved for

him to come inside. I may be in a bit of shock. ImAllie McMurphy.He took off his hat and uncovered a wide bald

pate that was attractive in that tough-guy way. ImOfficer Rex Manning, he offered. Charlene toldme you might have a dead body situation.

Situation? I swallowed. Um, upstairs, second-floor utility closet. Follow me.

He did, following me through the under-construction first-floor lobby to the twin staircasesthat led to the second floor.

Is it okay if we take the stairs? The elevator

repair guy is coming in the morning.Thats fine, he said. I noted that his nice gaze

took in the details of the building, including therenovations. Is there anyone else in the building?

You mean besides the dead guy? I climbed thestairs. My fingers brushed the cool, worn-smoothbanister. The rubber of my athletic shoes snaggedat the flowered carpet. No, the crew working onthe renovations left at six PM.

Its a big building with lots of places to hide, hepointed out.

I stopped on the second-floor landing and drew

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my brows together. Are you thinking the killer isstill inside? Suddenly there wasnt anything funnyabout the situation. Id only been on MackinacIsland for a month, but it really didnt seem like thekind of place you had to keep your doors locked forfear of a serial killer. Not like Chicago, anyway.

I mean, on an island with five hundred to six

hundred year-round residents, you could spot aserial killer a mile off. Couldnt you? Werent theyusually the quiet-keep-to-themselves-neighbor?Wait, was that me?

All Im thinking is that its a big building, Offi-cer Manning said with a nonchalant tone.

I pursed my lips. His words werent encouraging.All the rooms are locked. I lifted the master key Ihad in my hand. The hotels on island still hadmetal keys. It was quaint and fun. The keys werelocked up in a key cabinet in Papa Liams office.

Once the renovations were done, they would hangfrom hooks behind the reservation desk. Im theonly one with a key.

Okay. The word was flat and monotone. I triednot to infer anything from it. Wheres the body?

Over here. I walked down the hall. Somewhere

in the late seventies Papa had put down a greencarpet with a raised flower pattern. It was a littleworn now. Okay shabby, but I had it on my to-do listto replace. In the center of the hall was a set ofelevator doors. Across the hall from there was the

small utility closet where Joe Jessop died. The door

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was still open, and the light shone into the dimmerhallway.

Yep, thats a dead body. Officer Manning stoodin the doorway, his expression serious as stone. Myshock-crazed brain registered that he wore a bullet-proof vest underneath his shirt, giving his pleasantgirth stiffness. Even though we stood eye to eye, he

looked strong.I was glad of that because if there was a killer in

my home, I wouldnt think twice about letting Offi-cer Manning get between me and him. I mean,thats what they paid him to do, right?

He stepped carefully into the room. I knew he

was a brave man because he knelt down andchecked Joe for a pulse even though we both knewthat ship had sailed hours ago. Officer Manninglooked around, then reached up and made a callon the two-way radio that sat on his shoulder.

Charlene, get Doc Hamlin over here. We need acoroner on site. We have a DB.Yes, sir.Sure, Charlene sounded completely professional

when talking with the officer.Did you touch anything? He stood and took

pictures with his cell phone.I opened the door, turned on the light, and

stepped inside. I hugged my waist, trying to quellthe shivering that threatened to take over my body.He was kind of hard to miss.

Hes a big guy, Officer Manning agreed absently

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as he took more pictures. Did you touch him?Check for a pulse?

No.All he did was nod at that. His cell phone clicked

away. My teeth chattered. I clamped down hardtrying to stop them, but the sound caught theofficers attention.

Sit down! He said it sharp and tight, and Iobeyed without thought; my knees gave way, drop-ping me to the hall floor. He moved lightning fastbecause the next thing I knew he was beside me.Put your head down.

Okay, I muttered as the shivering took over. I

put my forehead on the floor. He must havegrabbed a blanket off the shelf in the closet becausehe draped one over me. I tried not to think aboutit too much as I worked to hold myself together.The vibrations of more footsteps reached me or itcould have been my teeth rattling my bones.

What do we have? a new male voice asked. Ashot of adrenaline went through me. The sound Imade would have been a scream except my throatclosed up the instant I realized that I had notlocked the door behind us when we came upstairs.

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all fudged up: a candy-coated mystery

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