Chapter 1
The Mackinac Island Butterfly House didn't open until ten, but I had a message from Blake Gilmore, the current manager, that she needed to see me about a possible tour group staying at the McMurphy. I walked my puppy, Mal, around the back of the Butterfly House looking for an open door. I saw movement in the greenhouse and figured Blake was watering plants or checking the butterflies.
“Hello? Blake?” I called as I opened the back door and stepped into the tropical humidity of the glass building. Mal tugged on her leash pulling me through the lovely winding, lush trail of the greenhouse that contained the live butterfly collection.
Suddenly I heard a short scream. My heartbeat sped up and Mal and I ran toward the sound. I stopped short at the sight in front of me. “Tory?”
Mal tugged at her leash, but I held her back.
In front of us was my California cousin, Victoria Andrews, kneeling over a woman. Tory held the handle of a gardening spade in her hands. The rest of the spade was stuck firmly in the chest of a woman I didn't know. The woman's jeans-clad legs were oddly angled. Her hands spread out, but empty. A pool of blood blossomed from beneath her checkered blouse.
“Tory, what's going on?” I couldn't tell if she was pushing the spade in or pulling it out. When she saw me, she let go of the handle and held up her hands as if I were the police and had just said, “Freeze.” Her blue eyes filled with fear. Her long, blond hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, but a streak of blood caressed her cheek. Her bow-shaped mouth trembled and her tanned skin looked ashen.
“Tory? What's going on?”
She stood and wiped her bloody hands on the front of her jeans. She was trembling from head to toe. “It's not what it looks like.” Her California accent was clear through the tremble in her voice.
Mal dragged me toward the scene.
“No,” I said, tugging her back as I took out my cell phone. “Tory, sit down,” I ordered as I pointed to a nearby bench. “You're in shock.” I dialed 9-1-1 and eased my cousin over to the bench.
Mal jumped up beside her to comfort her and ended up with blood on her white fur.
“9-1-1. This is Charlene. What is your emergency?”
“Hi, Charlene.”
“Allie McMurphy. This can't be good. Where are you? I'll send Rex over there right away.”
“Thank you,” I said. Rex Manning was my favorite lead policeman on Mackinac Island. “I'm at the Butterfly House. Tell him to come around to the back. We're in the greenhouse.”
“He's on his way,” Charlene said. “You said
we
?”
“Yes, It's me, my cousin Victoria, andâ”
“Another dead person?”
“Well, she certainly looks dead,” I said. “I haven't touched her.”
“Then how do you know she's dead?”
“Well, there's a hand spade sticking out of her chest and she's not moving.” I wasn't going to tell Charlene that my cousin might have been the one to put the spade there. Not until I had all the facts. “Let me check for a pulse.”
I skirted around the pool of blood and put my fingers on her neck. She felt warm, but there was no heartbeat. I shook her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Her eyes simply stared lifeless into the skylights.
“She doesn't respond to verbal cues and I didn't feel a pulse.”
“Enough said,” Charlene said. “I swear we've never had this much trouble until your Papa Liam passed. God rest his soul.”
It was then that Tory moaned. “I think I'm going to be sick.”
“Charlene, I've got to go.” I hung up the phone. I carried doggie-doo bags with me whenever I walked with Mal. I pulled one from my pocket and handed it to Tory. “Breathe into the bag. I think you're hyperventilating.”
“It's not breathing that's a problem,” Tory said before she turned her head and emptied her stomach into the bag.
I put my hand on her back as she heaved. “It's going to be okay.”
Mal put her paw on Tory as if to say she wanted to comfort my trembling cousin.
“What happened? Did you stab her? Was she attacking you?”
The woman appeared to be middle-aged. Her feet were ensconced in gray and pink walking shoes. Her black hair, including the streak of white hair along the left side of her face, was pulled back into a neat ponytail. She had high cheekbones, thin lips, and wide-open brown eyes that stared at the sky.
“No, no she wasn't attacking me,” Tory said, lifting her head from the baggie. “I didn't kill her. It's Barbara Smart. I was supposed to meet her here this morning to continue our discussion about a possible wine tour excursion. I found her like that.”
“But you had your hand on the handle of the spade.” I had to point out the obvious.
“I wanted to help her. I thought if I pulled it out I might be able to do CPR, but as I tugged more blood came out and I was afraid I was only making things worse. Then you came in. Did I hear you correctly? She didn't have a pulse?”
“No, she didn't,” I said. “Didn't you check for one?”
“I know it's the first thing you're told to do when you take a CPR class, but I didn't. I panicked and knelt down and shook her shoulder. I thought I heard a moan so I tried to take the blade out. That's when you got here.”
“Did you see anyone?”
“No.” Tory hung her head. “You and your dog were the first live people I've seen.”
“Wow, okay. So what time was your meeting? Was Blake supposed to be here? After all, she manages the Butterfly House.”
“Barbara and I met with Blake last night. Blake had another meeting this morning, but told us we could meet here to finish the details of the tour.”
“Wait. You were here last night?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn't call me? It's before the ferries come so you had to have stayed on the island last night. Why didn't you let me know you were coming? We have room at the McMurphy. You could have stayed with me.”
She gave me an angry look. “I didn't think I was welcome at the McMurphy. You own it, not meâeven though our great-grandfather started it.”
“What?” I straightened away from her. “Papa Liam always said your dad didn't want anything to do with the McMurphy even after my father moved us to Detroit. It's the only reason I took it over.”
“Listen, can we talk about this later?” Tory said. “Barbara's lying there dead.”
“Sure, but we will finish this conversation. Where are you staying?”
“Dad still owns a cabin on the far north side. I'm staying there.”
“What's going on?” Officer Rex Manning walked in through the back door. His black police boots crunched on the soft mulch that was the winding trail between the raised beds. “Charlene says you found another body?”
“Hi, Rex.” I stood.
Mal jumped off the bench and raced over to beg him for a few pets.
He reached down to pat her and noticed the blood on her paws. “Sorry kid, can't touch you when you have evidence on you.” He looked up at me with his flat blue gaze. “What happened?”
He wore a perfectly pressed police uniform. As usual, he'd taken his hat off the minute he entered the building, showing off his shaved head and square jaw. The man had the build of an action movie hero and the attitude that went with his good looks.
“I had an early appointment with Blake,” I said. “The front door is closed until ten so I came around back. I saw movement in the greenhouse and thought it was Blake so I came in. I heard a scream and rushed toward the sound to find my cousin Victoria kneeling over the woman with the garden spade in her chest.” I pointed at the body.
“I see.” Rex walked over and checked the pulse point at the dead woman's throat. He glanced over at Tory who had put the doggie-doo bag down by her feet and had her head between her knees. “This woman is dead,” he announced and picked up her wrist. “She's still warm. I don't think she's been dead long, but we'll have to wait for the coroner's report to know for sure.” He stood and went over to Tory. “Tory Andrews?”
Tory looked up at him. “Hi, Rex.”
I frowned. How did they know each other?
“It's been a while,” Rex said as he squatted down to look Tory in the eye as she hung her head. “I thought you were in California.”
“I am.” She took a deep breath, then blew it out slow. “I mean, I was . . . up until yesterday.”
“You have blood on you. Can you tell me what happened?”
Mal tried to nudge herself between Rex and Tory. He gently pushed Mal back and sent me a look that silently told me to take care of my pet. I scooped up my evidence-covered pup and took a step back, knowing that the EMTs were most likely on their way along with the county CSI guy, Shane Carpenter.
“I was supposed to meet Barbara here this morning, but when I arrived she wasn't in the office so I came out here looking for her.” Tory put her head between her knees again. “I heard a noise and came this way. I saw her lying there and knelt down to shake her.”
“Is that how you got blood on you?” He was calm and there was kindness in his tone I hadn't heard in a while.
“Yes,” Tory said. “I was going to pull out the shovel. When I put my hands on the handle more blood came out so I stopped. Then Allie came in. She got me to the bench.”
Rex looked at me. “Did you see anyone else?”
“No.” I shook my head.
Just then Blake came around the corner. “What's going on? I saw Rex's bicycle parked out front. Wait!” She froze in place and put her hands over her mouth. “Barbara?” It came out as a shocked whisper. Her knees buckled.
Rex and I got to her at the same time and each took an elbow and helped her slowly to the bench.
“Barbara? Oh, Barbara! What happened?” She glanced from me to Rex to Tory.
“I found her like this,” Tory said.
Mal put her front paws on the bench seat and looked from one distressed woman to the other as if unsure how to comfort them both.
“Is that a spade? Who would do such a thing?”
“We'll find out.” I patted Blake on the shoulder.
She was an older woman in her midfifties with light brown hair highlighted with blond streaks that shimmered in the daylight. Her face was round and pretty. Of average build, she could pass for younger. Today she wore a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a white polo shirt with the Butterfly House logo monogrammed on the left breast.
George Marron and Walt Henderson came in through the door with a stretcher between them and their EMT bags in their hands.
“What do we have?” George was the lead EMT on Mackinac Island. He had long, black hair that was pulled back in a single braid, copper skin, and high cheekbones of his Iroquois ancestry.
“Dead body,” Rex said in a low tone. “She's probably been gone about forty-five minutes to an hour, but we'll have to wait for the coroner to find out for sure.”
“Cause of death seems pretty clear.” Walt was a tall thin man with gray hair and a hawklike nose. He had sharp features and dark brown eyes. His skin had the weathered look of a fisherman . . . or at the least someone who knew their way around the water.
“Tory Andrews,” George said. “When did you get back on the island?”
“Hi, George,” Tory said, trying to sit up straight. “Sorry, I can't.” She grabbed the doggie bag and heaved again.
George let go of the stretcher and went over to Tory. He checked her pulse and eyes. “You're in shock.” He waved for Walt to bring a blanket over, then slung it around Tory's shoulders. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” She shook her head.
“There's blood. I should check.”
“It's Barbara's,” Tory said and closed her eyes. “I tried to take the spade out of her chest, but I couldn't.”
“Okay. Well, let's take you back to the clinic and get you checked out just in case. Okay?” George looked at Rex, who nodded.
“I'm fine, really,” Tory said.
“You should go,” I said. “They can give you something to settle your stomach. Besides, the crime scene guy will want your clothes. You're covered in evidence.”
“Come on,” George said and helped her to her feet. “Allie and I will take you to the clinic.”
“What about Barbara?” Tory asked as she glanced at her friend one more time.
“Walt and Rex will take good care of her.” George said.
“Come on, Blake,” I said, tugging her to her feet. “Come with us. You look a little shocky yourself.”
“I can't leave Barbara,” Blake said with tears in her brown eyes.
“It's okay. Rex is with her.” I locked my arm with Blake's. “Tory can really use our comfort right now. Right?”
“It is better if you ladies stick together,” George said as he walked Tory out the door.
Shane stopped us on the way out. He wore his navy blue CSI jacket and ball cap. His horn-rim glasses emphasized his concerned eyes. “I hear you've found another crime scene.”
I shook my head. “Not me this time. My cousin Tory did.” I pointed toward her and George.
“Tory Andrews?” Shane's face burst into a wide smile. “When did you get back on the island?”
“Yesterday,” I muttered. “She just didn't tell anyone.”
“I had meetings,” Tory said.
I frowned. “Gee, Tory. Everyone seems to know you.”
“They should. I went to school with all of them up until senior year when Dad moved us out to California. Unlike you, Allie, I'm not a Fudgie.”