All You Need Is Fudge (14 page)

Read All You Need Is Fudge Online

Authors: Nancy CoCo

“Oh, it could have been hours. I've been known to stand in the hot sun chatting with a friend for hours without even noticing the time going by. Plus, Carin had been drinking so her perception of time had to be all off. Did she go back to the boat?”
“No,” Ronald said. “I went looking for her, but couldn't find her. So I texted her. When she didn't answer, I got angry and went home.”
“Do you remember what time you got home?”
“No.” He ran his hands through his gorgeous thick hair. “I kick myself every day. I could have walked right passed her in the water.”
“There's nothing you could have done even if you'd found her. They tell me she was dead when she hit the water.”
“Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better,” he said grimly. “What if I was the last person to see her?”
“You weren't. Whoever she was talking to may have been the last person.”
“I'm surprised no one saw anything. We weren't the only boat with a party on it that night. The pier was hopping.”
“Was it still hopping when you saw Carin was talking to the woman?”
“No, things had quieted down a bit. Like I said it was after three
AM.
Some of the boaters were closing up to get rest for the morning's race.”
“You didn't see who the woman was?”
“No, they were in shadow, just outside the lights from the nearest rig.”
“Did they look like they were fighting?”
“You are full of questions,” he said suddenly.
“I'm trying to find out what happened,” I said.
“The police seem to know as they have arrested a suspect already.”
“Yes, well, I'm wondering if they have the wrong person.”
“Why would you wonder that?” Ronald asked, his expression sincere. “Is it because Paige Jessop is your boyfriend's sister?”
I sat up straight. “Did you tell Rex it was Paige you saw with Carin?”
Things in the room were tense as he looked at me as if sizing me up. Finally he broke the tension. “I told him what I told you. No more, no less.”
“I see.” I shook my head. “What I don't understand is why the police can build a case around that. It could have been any woman on the island.”
“No. She was young.”
“Wait. If they were in the shadows, how do you know that?”
“Her figure, her hair. She was wearing pants and a jacket and had long hair. She might have been in shadow, but there was no hiding her figure. I could also tell her height. She was face-to-face with Carin, so they had to be the same height.”
“That means it could have been any woman on the island her height, including me.”
He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Were you on the dock that night?”
“No. I was at home in bed. I had fudge to make the next morning. I usually get up at four and make fudge from four-thirty to six or seven o'clock, depending on the way the fudge sets up. Some days are more humid and it takes longer for the fudge to set.”
“So you had no one to substantiate your alibi.”
I shrugged. “I guess, but I'm not a suspect.”
“Not too many people have alibis that late at night, Ms. McMurphy—especially women who live alone. The police only found one person with motive strong enough to suspect of killing Carin and they arrested her.” He stood, clearly signaling the end of our meeting. “It was nice to meet you, Allie. I wanted to know who pulled Carin from the water.”
“It was nice to meet you as well, Ronald. I'm sorry for your loss. Please look over the business proposal. It was a serious one.”
He nodded. “I will.”
“Thanks.” I headed toward the door then stopped and pivoted on my heel. “One last thing . . .”
“Yes?”
“Did you identify Paige in a line up?”
“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “I told the police I didn't see the woman's face. I'm not a monster out to get your friend. I'm simply hoping to convict the person responsible for this heinous crime.”
“I understand. I want the same thing.”
“Even if it means your friend Paige is guilty?”
I studied him for a moment. “Yes, even if it means Paige is guilty.”
“Thanks, Allie. For being open to the truth.”
“I want you to know that I intend to find that truth. Whatever that truth might be.”
“Good luck,” he said sincerely.
I left his office and hurried out of the hotel. The last person to talk to Carin may have been a woman, but that didn't mean a woman killed her. I needed to talk to Shane. I needed to know if the killing blow came from above or below. When Ronald mentioned the women were face-to-face, it made me realize that the angle of the blow to the back of the head could tell me the height of the killer. It might just be a way to save Paige.
Chapter 16
“Allie.” Eleanor Wadsworth stopped me as Mal and I walked down Main Street toward the yacht club. It was early evening and Mal and I were out for her before-dinner walk.
“Oh, hi, Eleanor,” I said and stopped as she approached. “How are you?”
She wore a plain black dress and black flats. “I'm holding up,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “The visitation was today. You weren't there.”
“I was afraid I'd just be a reminder of how I found her in the water.” I sent flowers. I really didn't know Carin at all besides seeing her once or twice at the yacht club committee meetings.”
“Oh, yes. I suppose that's wise,” Eleanor said. “I understand you are investigating Carin's murder.”
“I'm just asking some questions,” I said.
“I told you that the police have the right suspect.” She pushed her point. “You really shouldn't be going around talking to people like Reggie. All you're doing is pouring salt into an open wound.”
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause anyone distress,” I said, studying her.
Her expression was one of sorrow and anxiety. “Reggie means the world to me. He's pretty torn up about Carin's death. I really think you should stay away from him. Besides, don't you have Trent to think about?”
“Yes, I do have Trent to think about. And his sister Paige, who I don't believe killed Carin. Did you know that Carin was having an affair with Ronald Lorrie? That she led everyone to believe she was in love with James Jamison?”
Eleanor's mouth pinched up as if she tasted something bad. “Ronald Lorrie is making that up. Carin never looked sideways at him. The nerve of the man to say she did. As for James, well, Carin was going to leave him for Reggie the moment Reggie said the word. If anyone was having an affair with Carin it was Reggie. Paige found out about it and killed Carin in a fit of rage.”
“I don't believe you. I talked to Reggie. Paige didn't have any reason to be angry.”
“Well, the police believe she did and that's good enough for me,” Eleanor said. “And it should be good enough for you. Really, Allie, I thought you were on my side with this.”
“I am on your side. I'm looking for justice for Carin. That justice won't happen if the wrong person goes to trial. All that will happen then is that the police will stop looking for the real killer.”
“I know they have the real killer,” Eleanor said. “You should know that, too.”
“I just want to be certain,” I said.
“Well, the only way to be certain is to let the police do their job.” She bristled. “And leave Reggie out of your gossip. He is a kind and upstanding man and I won't see him further abused.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Okay. Well, then good.” Eleanor glanced down at Mal and patted her head. “The funeral is tomorrow. I don't expect that you'll come.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Good,” she replied again and lifted her nose in the air. “As you said, you'll only remind them that you pulled Carin out of the marina. Terrible, just terrible.” She walked away toward the Moores' home.
I looked down at Mal, who wagged her stubbed tail at me. “That was awkward.” My cell phone rang and I fished it out of my pocket. “Hello?”
“Allie.”
“Trent,” I said with relief. “How are you? Are you okay? Is Paige okay? Is there anything I can do? Why haven't you called me? I miss you.”
“Allie, we've been advised by our lawyer not to talk to anyone outside the family.”
“Well, I consider myself family, Trent. You know I care about you and Paige. I talked to Reggie. He misses Paige, too. We need to know what's going on.”
“Allie, I called because I heard you were asking questions around town.”
“You shut me out. I need to know what Rex has on Paige. It's clear she was set up. Let me help.”
“Allie, I called because I need you to stop investigating.”
“What? Why?”
“You're causing more harm than good,” he said sternly.
“Trent, I'm just asking questions.”
“Don't.”
“But—”
“Allie, stay out of it. We don't want you asking questions. We don't need your help. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” I said.
“Good. I've got to go.”
“Trent—” He had already hung up on me. I sighed, frustrated by the lack of communication on his part. Why weren't they letting me in? Did I really mean so little to him that he could ditch me when the going got tough?
Mal tugged on the leash as if to say Let's go. There are interesting smells and neighborhood gossip to learn.
“All right, Mal,” I muttered. “It seems no one wants us to help.”
She looked up at me with her puppy smile and then buried her nose in the grass and pulled me toward the yacht club.
“Fine,” I muttered. “Just don't find any more body parts, okay? I don't need grief from any more people.”
Our walk took us around the corner and down the alley between the McMurphy and the pool house of the hotel behind us. My friend and neighbor, Mr. Beecher, was walking down the alley when we got to the back of the McMurphy.
“Hello, Allie, how are you? And Mal, my little friend, how are you?” Mr. Beecher was an old man, round in stature. He always wore a waistcoat and jacket, slacks and held a walking cane. He walked every day and often took a shortcut down the alley behind the McMurphy. Lately, he'd started to carry little dog treats in his pocket. Mal was wise to this and when she spotted him, she would stand on her back legs and turn circles.
“Hi Mr. Beecher,” I said. “I think you have Mal convinced you are made of dog treats.”
He chuckled and took one out of his pocket. “Sit and give us a shake.”
Mal sat and held out her paw.
Mr. Beecher shook her paw and then gave her the treat and patted her on the head. “She's a good girl and deserves all the treats she wants.”
“That's easy for you to say,” I said. “You don't have to worry she'll get fat. Then I'll have to buy diet food and limit her meals.”
He chuckled. “That dog is not likely to get fat any time soon. Are you girl? You look out for your girlie figure, don't you?” He patted her on the head again and sneaked her a second treat.
I rolled my eyes. “Well, one thing's for certain. Mal will never go hungry.”
“That's a good thing in my book,” Mr. Beecher said. “You have a nice evening, now.”
“Good night,” I said and turned to the McMurphy. After my first month living at the hotel, I'd replaced the metal fire escape ladder that had serviced the back door to my apartment. We climbed the real stairway, my mind on Trent and the serious tone of his voice. He meant business when it came to my asking questions. It sort of got my back up. Just because we were dating and I was half in love with him didn't mean he could tell me what to do and expect me to follow like a dog or a small child. I'd have to have a talk with him next time we were alone together.
I hit the top of the stairs and came to a screeching halt. I grabbed Mal a second before she stepped into an open bear trap. The metal was rusted, but the teeth looked sharp and ready. The springs were loaded, ready for some unsuspecting soul to step inside. It was baited with a piece of raw meat.
My heart raced as I held Mal to my chest and stared at the trap. A note was taped to the back door of my apartment.
Watch where you're stepping. You or someone you love just might get hurt.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Rex.
“Rex Manning,” he barked into the phone.
“Rex, it's Allie.”
“Allie, I'm not going to talk about the investigation,” he warned.
“I know. It's not that. I need you to come around to the back of the McMurphy. Someone has placed an open bear trap near my door. A threatening note is taped to the door.”
“Don't touch anything. I'll be right there.”
I hung up the phone and to my horror saw Caramella jump up on the deck rail between me and the bear trap. “Oh, lord,” I whispered, trying not to scare the cat into jumping down. “Stay right there, Mella, Mella. Good kitty.”
Terrified, I watched as she noticed the raw meat in the center of the trap. “Mella,” I said with a warning tone in my voice.
Mal started to whimper at my distress. The cat eyed me as if I was of little interest to her. Her tail twitched behind her. It was a sure sign that she was thinking about how juicy that piece of meat looked and how annoying I was to call her away from it.
I held my breath and took a careful step toward her. She arched her back as if to leap. I stopped in my tracks. “No, Mella,” I said soft and low. “Don't do it.”
The razor sharp prongs on the bear trap seemed to glisten ominously. I wasn't sure what to do next. I tried to keep one eye on Mella as I dialed Jenn's phone.
“Hey, Allie. What's up?”
I felt a bit of relief at the sound of her voice. “Jenn, where are you? Are you at the McMurphy?”
“Sure. I'm in the office. Why?” Jenn said. “You sound worried.”
“How fast can you get around the building and up to the deck?”
“I can go out your door in less than two minutes.”
I heard her get up and shouted, “No!” I flinched when I saw Mella startle.
She froze, but her tail was twitching.
I wasn't sure what she would do. I said into the phone to Jenn, “I need you to go around the building and up the steps as quickly as you can. Don't come out the apartment door.”
“Okay,” Jenn said. “Okay, I'm headed down. I'll be there in a few. Do you need me to stay on the phone?”
“I've got a situation where I may need to drop Mal to get Mella out of danger,” I said.
“Let Mal go,” Jenn said. “I'm outside. Tell Mal to find me.”
That was smart. “Got it.” Keeping my gaze on Mella, who looked like she might jump into the trap at any second, I put Mal down facing the steps. “Mal, go get Jenn. Go, Mal. Get Jenn.”
Mal seemed to understand and rushed down the stairs. I stood slowly and inched around the trap toward Mella. All I could do was hope that Mal went straight to Jenn. She was smart. I was counting on it.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” I said, drumming my fingers on the top of the deck rail. My hope was to distract Mella from the raw meat in the center of the trap. Mella turned her gaze to my fingers and stayed put. “Mella, want a kitty treat?”
She began to wash her front paw. I breathed a bit. If she was acting indifferent, at least she wasn't staring into the jaws of death with interest.
“Holy crap, what is that?” Jenn's voice came from behind me.
I kept my gaze on Mella. “It's a bear trap.”
“Right,” Jenn said.
“Mella keeps eyeing the meat in the center. How do I get her and keep her safe?” I asked Jenn because she had more experience with cats than I did.
“Here,” she said and handed me Mal. “Take Mal and let me get Mella.”
I took Mal. “Okay.”
“Mella, no!” Jenn rushed forward.
I held Mal close to my chest and closed my eyes waiting for the nasty sound of the trap going off.
Silence.
Then Jenn patted me on the shoulder.
I opened my eyes to see that she had Mella safely in her arms. I let out a long breath. “Oh, thank goodness. How did you get her?”
Jenn seemed out of breath. “She jumped and I caught her. What the heck? Who put that there?”
“I don't know. I called Rex. He's on his way.”
“He's here,” Jenn said as she looked over the railing. “Let me take the pets.”
I put Mal down because she was still wearing her leash. Jenn went down the steps holding Mella in her arms and Mal's leash in her hand. Rex came up and the two met at the first floor landing.
They said something to each other, but I couldn't tell what. I'd try to remember to ask Jenn later. Rex wore his neat police uniform and hat. He came up the rest of the way and studied my face. “Jenn said you almost lost your cat.”
“Hi Rex.” I moved aside. “Someone left this at my door.” I pointed toward the open bear trap.
He blew out a breath when he spotted it. “Is that the note?” He nodded toward the door.
“Yes. My first thought was getting Mal before she could step into the trap. She tends to run up the stairs before me. Then I saw Mella hop up on the railing and I nearly had a heart attack when she spotted the meat in the center.”
“I see.” He laid down a pencil to give the trap size comparisons, then pulled out his cell phone and began to take pictures from all angles. The trap was quite large—large enough to hurt a human very badly. Large enough to kill a cat or a small dog.
“Whoever did this should be shot,” I said.
“When we find who did this—he glanced at me from where he squatted beside the trap—they will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”
“Thank you,” I said and hugged my waist.
He pulled his bully stick out of his waistband and stood. “Stand back!”
I went down two steps off the deck.
He gave the lever a good hard smack and the trap snapped closed with a solid crunching sound of metal against metal. He pulled a plastic evidence bag out of the pocket on his gun belt. Then he took a cloth handkerchief out and carefully picked up the bear trap and slid it into the evidence bag. He read the note, snapped photos of it attached to my back door, then carefully pulled it off and placed it in a second evidence bag. “All right. It's words cut from magazines and pasted on. I'm sure the uneven typeface was meant to scare you.”

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