“Oh, it's pretty clear they've been head over heels since he started working there.”
“Yes,” I said with a firm nod. “But they didn't come out and say they were dating. When I called Frances on it after six weeks, she admitted to it and said they wanted to keep it to themselves for a while.”
“Frances didn't want you to worry that Douglas would quit if things didn't work out for them. She told me how invaluable he is to you right now. Especially since the original handyman turned out to be a dud.”
“You know she is like family to me,” I said. “It's why I'm kind of upset I didn't look into her life or pay attention to what she does outside of the McMurphy. I mean, she let me stay with her for a few days when I was first on the island and remodeling and such, but we mostly talked about my Grammy Alice and Papa Liam. Nowadays, we mostly talk about our day and what we plan next. It's terrible. Mr. Devaney came to me thinking I knew her well enough to put together the perfect proposal and I didn't even know you were her best friend.”
“Well, you do now, honey,” Maggs said, patting my hand. “Ah, here's lunch.” The waitress set down my giant plate of chopped salad and Maggs' pasta, checked our drinks, and left.
“We were thinking perhaps a candlelight dinner on top of the McMurphy with views of Main Street, the fort, and the marina, but then that didn't seem really special.”
“But it is special,” Maggs said as she twirled pasta with a fork and pasta spoon. “The McMurphy is where they met, where they work, and where they feel their family is, which is you, by the way.”
“Oh, so you think the rooftop would be a good idea?”
“Certainly,” she said.
“I need a couple ideas to run past Mr. Devaney,” I admitted as I forked up salad. “I thought of his secret beach spot, but then it wouldn't be secret anymore if we decorate it.”
“I see.” She bit into a meatball.
“There are the obvious places with great views. The Grand, the fort, and all the other places people come for romantic weddings and parties, but we wanted this to be more personal. Do you know of any other places?”
“He could take her for a moonlight carriage ride around the island,” Maggs suggested. “They did that on their first date.”
“Oh, wonderful. I could have Trent help set it up with his best carriage and driver. They could stop at Lover's Point and we could have a picnic set up for them there.”
“Very nice,” Maggs said.
“Great. So we have two outdoor ideas. We should probably consider one indoor in case the weather is bad.”
“You could rent the sunporch at the Grand. I know it's cliché, but it is quite lovely. You could have a three piece orchestra play the entire night. There is enough room for two people to dance and watch the lights out on the lake.”
“It all sounds so lovely,” I said with a sigh. “I really want this to be special for Frances. She deserves it.”
“Her husband has been gone for nearly ten years,” Maggs said. “I wasn't sure she'd ever find another man like him. I'm so glad you introduced her to Douglas.”
“I'm surprised they didn't meet before. Mr. Devaney had been teaching on the island for years. Frances is a retired teacher. They could have met at the library or the school or church . . . even the senior center.”
“But they didn't,” Maggs said. “It took you and the McMurphy to bring them together. So, no, that wouldn't be a corny place for him to propose.”
“What other things do they like to do together? Are there pictures of special trips I should know about? Any memory that we could maybe project on the dance floor?”
“Oh, that's a romantic idea,” Maggs said. “I have some pictures of them out walking his dogs on the beach.”
“Mr. Devaney has dogs?”
“Two Newfoundlands,” Maggs said with a smile. “They are gorgeous animals and they love the water and the snow.”
“I didn't know.” I paused. “Did she give them to him as a gift?”
“Yes, she did. How did you know?”
“Because she brought Mal to me. What are their names?”
“Winston and Minnie,” Maggs said. “Cute, right?”
“So cute. He could have them groomed and they could be there to witness. I know that Frances's cat recently passed away. She told me she would take her time to find a new shelter kitty. In fact, she didn't even take Caramella home.”
“It's because the dogs are growing pups and she wants them to be more mature before she brings a cat onto the scene.”
“Smart,” I said. “Maybe we can get her a cat when she comes home from her honeymoon.”
“Oh my. We will have a wedding to plan!” Maggs clapped and people stopped to look at us. “Oops,” she said, her tone light. “I don't want to draw too much attention and spill the beans.”
“Mr. Devaney is a private man. I can't imagine they will want a big wedding.”
“Oh, I quite agree. When Frances married Joe, they had the entire island community invited, plus some. It was held at the chapel at the fort and the cannons saluted. I'm betting this time we'll be lucky to witness.”
“Oh, I hope to attend. They mean that much to me.”
“I'll let her know,” Maggs said and patted my hand again. “Later . . . after the proposal when she starts planning the wedding. I'll make sure she doesn't run off without you.”
“Oh, thank you. You are wonderful.” I hugged her.
She hugged me back. “I'm so glad you stopped by the senior center today.”
“So am I, Maggs, so am I. More than you will ever know.”
Not only did I learn more about Frances, but I learned that the senior center was the best place for gossip. I'd somehow doubled my duty. Not bad for a few hours away from fudge making.
Chapter 12
“Reggie Owens stopped by to see you,” Frances said when I entered the McMurphy. “What did you learn at the senior center?”
I'd told Frances I was going to see what gossip I could turn up. I was lucky to have some to report. “The murder weapon was an oar with the name of the Jessops' boat, the
Scoundrel
, printed right on it.”
“That's weirdly obvious,” Frances said.
“I agree and so do the ladies at the senior center.” I grabbed my chef's coat and pulled it on. “I've got a demonstration in ten minutes. Did Reggie leave a message?”
“Yes. He said he'll meet you at three
PM
at the Boar's Head if you can make it.”
I glanced at my watch. There was just enough time for the fudge demonstration and a change of clothes. “Great, how late are you working?”
“I'll be here until seven, then Megan takes over.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Frances.” I paused and added, “Oh, I ran into Margaret Vanderbilt. We had lunch together. She's great.”
Frances nodded. “Maggs is one of a kind.”
“So are you,” I said and went into the fudge shop.
Outside, the streets were wall-to-wall tourists. We locals affectionately called them Fudgies as they came for the fudge as well as the sites. Main Street heralded a fudge shop on every block. That meant the competition was fierce. Every fudge maker had to be good at catching people's attention.
The yacht races had been going on for over one hundred years and each year they drew more and more people. Each boat had a crew of ten to twenty. As they came in, they would hit the bars and parties. The horse-drawn taxis were in direct competition for space. People outside the McMurphy windows moved in a fluid stream.
Only half a block off the dock where the ferries loaded and unloaded passengers, the McMurphy was in a prime spot. Porters on bikes would pick up luggage and deliver it to the various hotels around. The bigger hotels used horse-drawn trailers to move the luggage.
I hooked a microphone up to my chef's coat and started talking as I poured ingredients into the giant copper fudge pot. Demonstrations were between ten and twenty minutes long. People would come and go at first but near the end they would gather to watch the fudge solidify and grab a taste of the fresh batch.
That was when we would entice them into buying. Making just enough fudge to sell out each day was our goal. The McMurphy was known for small batches and specialty fudges. We rarely had leftovers.
The crowd gathered as I buttered the marble fudge table. “The marble is cooled with ice water that runs underneath the table top,” I explained. “We use marble because it absorbs the heat from the fudge slowly and consistently. That way, we can control the fudge's cooling and add air to give it a light texture.”
Jenn stepped into the kitchen area to help me lift the pot and pour the hot fudge onto the table.
“Pouring the fudge is always a two-man jobâfor safety reasons and because the pot is so large,” I explained. “It allows me to scrape all the goodness out onto the table. Thanks, Jenn.” She nodded and took the empty pot over to the sink.
“You'll notice the stainless steel edges I've added to the table. This keeps the liquid from dripping off onto the floor as I stir it with a long-handled scraper.” I picked up the stirrer and began the lifting and twisting motion that was so familiar to me I swear I did it in my sleep. “This lifting and stirring adds air to the fudge and helps it cool at a consistent rate. As a candy maker becomes skilled, we learn to tell by feel how long to use this method before the fudge needs to be formed and the extra ingredients added.”
I switched to the short-handed scraper and continued on with the demonstration. More crowd gathered as I added a premixed bucket of nuts and cranberries to the fudge and folded it into a long loaf. When it had set, I cut the loaf into one-pound sections. Jenn put taster pieces on a platter and opened the door, handing the tasters out to the crowd. As their eyes grew wide, little kids held out their hands to get a taste of fudge. Adults, as well, were eager to taste and compare my fudge to the others that were available just blocks away.
“Hey,” someone in the crowd said. “Are you that fudge maker on the candy cook off show?”
Surprised, I turned to them. “Yes, but I didn't think it was showing yet.”
“I saw the previews,” the man went on.
“Do you win?” one of the women asked as she tasted my fudge. “Because this is really good fudge.”
“Thanks,” I said. “But you'll have to watch the show to find out what happens.”
“Aw, spoiler,” the man said and then grinned.
“It starts airing next month,” I said. “I hope you enjoy watching.”
Jenn and I were busy measuring out boxes and selling fudge as the crowd flowed out of the McMurphy and back into the streets. A glance at the time told me it was already 4:30.
I turned to her. “Can you handle the rest of this? I've got a meeting with Paige's boyfriend Reggie at five.”
“Sure thing,” Jenn said. “How'd it go at the senior center?”
“Great.” I stepped closer. “I found Frances's best friend. Her name is Margaret Vanderbilt.”
“Oh, Maggs?” Jenn said.
“Yes.” I shook my head. “How do you know her?”
“She does these great craft events. I looked into using her for a birthday party. She's a real artist and a sweetheart.”
“I need to get out of the McMurphy more often,” I muttered.
Jenn grinned at me. “Yes, you do.”
“Maggs gave me some great ideas for you know what,” I said.
“Perfect. We'll talk later. Have you heard from Trent or Paige today?”
“No.” I tried not to let the disappointment show in my voice. “I called and left a message and I texted twice, but he's completely shut me out at this point.”
“I wouldn't take it personal,” Jenn said. “Powerful families are known to do that when threatened.”
“Well, it only makes me more wanting to prove that I can help them. I'm going to find out what Reggie knows. Then I'm going to go see if I can't get Rex to talk to me.”
“Good luck.” Jenn waved me off. “I'll see you after dinner.”
“Do you have a date with Shane tonight?”
“Yes . . . and yes, I'll see if I can't convince him to tell me more. We'll see what a little wine and nookie can do.”
“You are a woman after my own heart,” I teased.
“Together we'll get this thing figured out.”
* * *
Reggie was tall and sun-kissed handsome in that preppy sort of manner that rich boys had. His light brown hair was styled perfectly. He wore a white polo, khaki shorts, and deck shoes. His nose was long and thin, his jaw square and his brown eyes charming. “Allie,” he called when I walked into the busy bar.
I moved to him as he snagged two craft beers off the bar and handed me one. “I'm thinking you need this as much as I do. Let's go out on the deck and see if we can't get a seat.”
The deck overlooked the marina and was filled with people. Throbbing music poured out of speakers attached to the building. A portico gave off just enough shade that we didn't need a hat.
“I guess this really isn't the best place to talk,” he shouted over the top of the music.
“Let's grab a bench by the marina.”
He nodded his agreement. We went out the gate and down the crowded sidewalk to the soft grass and benches that faced the boats. At least there we could hear each other, even if it wasn't very private.
I sat on the bench and took a swig of the cold beer. It was bright and fizzy.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
“I'm okay. I'm missing Trent. The Jessops have completely shut me out. He's not even returning my texts. How about you? Have you heard from Paige?”
“Only through her lawyer.” He scowled and took a long draught of his beer. “It's as if I've done something wrong.”
“I know what you mean.” I studied the waterfront. “I feel like they should let me in. I could help them figure this out. Paige is innocent. Right? Why are they shutting us out?”
“It's a Jessop thing,” he said, his tone flat. “Blood is thicker than water. If you plan on being part of the clan, then expect this kind of treatment.” He glanced my way. “Once you have kids, you're inâat least your kids are in. I'm not sure non-blood relatives are ever truly let into the Jessop family.”
“That doesn't make any sense,” I said. “I'm Paige's friend. I love Trent. Should we get married, I would be family.”
“It's a different way of looking at things. Trust me. If you ever marry Trent, there will be a prenup and you won't get squat.”
“I'm okay with that. I'm not dating him for his family's money.”
“Yeah, I told Paige that, as well. My family has its own issues and its own money.” Reggie shrugged.
“Do you have any idea why they arrested Paige? I heard they discovered a murder weapon. Do you know anything about that?”
“I heard a rumor. Nothing official. I wish I knew how Paige is. She must be going through hell right now.”
“Have you called her?”
“Called and texted. Like you, they shut me out.”
“I'm certain she's innocent.”
“Yeah, there's no way she would have done it. I'm pissed off at Rex Manning for even going so far as to arrest her.”
“Did you go to the bail hearing? Do you know what the charges are?”
“The bail hearing was closed.” He glanced at me. “I figured you knew that.”
“No, I've been busy with the shop and didn't get a chance to go. Besides, Rex has shut me out of this one.”
“Well, that stinks.” Reggie swigged his beer. “I was hoping you could clue me in on things. You are the one who seems to have the in with the cops and the locals.”
“Don't get me wrong. I'm working on the investigation. Were you with Paige that night?” I wasn't about to tell him what the senior rumors were where he was concerned.
“Yeah, we had a date. Paige wanted to take a bunch of us out on the yacht for dinner and drinks and dancing. A party, really. I got to the boat at seven. Some of her friends were already there.”
“Who was invited? Do you know?”
“The usual crew,” he said with a shrug. “Paige and her best friend Beatrice. Ashley Warner, Meghan Bush, and their boyfriends Matt and Christen. Beatrice's boyfriend Jacob was on one of the yachts racing up from Chicago so he wasn't there. “Reggie raised his hands and ticked off people as he named them. “Ryan and Amy, Brian and Sue, and me. You and Trent didn't come.”
“I wasn't invited.”
He shrugged. “Paige said it was just her gang. Even the old folks weren't there.”
“You mean Paige's mom and dad?”
“Yeah. Mostly it was Paige's crew. We took the boat out into the straits . . . just on the other side of the bridge and watched the sunset. There was an open bar and a lot of drinking and goofing around.”
“How late did you stay out?” I didn't want to tell him I hadn't seen the
Scoundrel
at the marina the morning I found Carin. I wondered if I had just missed the boat or if in fact it hadn't been there.
“We didn't get back to the marina until around noon the next day. It's why I don't understand them pinning this murder on Paige. We were all out on the boat when Carin went into the water.”
“I heard Paige and Carin fought over you.” I sipped my drink and watched his reaction out of the corner of my eye.
He seemed taken aback by my suggestion. “What? No. I haven't seen Carin since I broke it off with her and started dating Paige.”
“There's an eyewitness who said she saw you and Carin in a compromising position at the yacht club two days before the murder.”
“Yeah, well, your eyewitness has the wrong guy. Two days before the party, I was in Chicago at a conference. I've got 300 witnesses.” He glanced at me. “I did a seminar that took up the entire day.”
“You could have flown back to the island that night,” I said.
“Yeah, well, I didn't,” he said, his mouth set in a grim line. “I was tired. I went to my room and went to bed. You can check the flight manifests.”
“I'm sure the police already did.” I frowned. “If it wasn't you with Carin, who was it?”
“Got me.” He shrugged. “Look, her brother and I are good friends, but that girl was grade A nutso. I was lucky to get away from her.”
“If it wasn't you Carin and Paige fought over, who was it?” I muttered. “Were you with Paige all night the night Carin died? I mean, aren't you her alibi?”
“Yeah, well, I sort of got drunk and passed out early. Paige was pissed at me. We had a fight about it the next morning.”
“Do you know what they think the murder weapon is?”
“No.” He turned toward me. “Do you?”
“I heard a rumor that Carin was hit in the back of the skull with an oar from the
Scoundrel
.”
“An oar? Off the yacht? Do they even have oars?”
I shook my head. “That's what I said. I guess they are part of the lifeboats. Anyway, the oar had the
Scoundrel
's name printed on it and Carin's blood on the edge of the blade.”
“Well, shoot,” he said and took another swig of his drink. “Anyone could have taken that oar off the boat. No one uses them. They have to have some evidence that traces it to Paige.”