A midsummer nights fudge, p.10
A Midsummer Night's Fudge, page 10
“Why did the ladies think Patricia might have killed herself?”
“There was some sort of rivalry in the sewing circle between Patricia and Winona and the ladies thought that it might have been a murder-suicide.”
“Hard to kill yourself and throw away the gun,” Rex said.
“Yes, well, we had to go through the motions.” I shrugged. “Are you working late?”
“Yeah, I’ve got two murders’ worth of paperwork to do,” he said.
“Then I’ll leave you to it.” I stood, kissed him, and walked out. Mal was happy to leave and go back to her Scooby-Doo sniffing. Luckily, we didn’t find any more bodies on our way back home. I went up the back stairs to my apartment and opened the door. Mella met us and snuck out. I let her; she often went out to visit Shelia and I respected her ability to do so. If I had it my way, she would be a house cat, but Mella had her own mind and liked to check out her territory and visit her old owner.
“Come on, Mal,” I said. My pup wanted to go with Mella. “Let’s get back to work.” I closed and locked my door behind me. My thoughts were on the shell casing I’d found. I didn’t know much about guns, so I went to my computer and did a quick search. It seemed automatic handguns shot out casings, but revolvers didn’t. This meant that Rex would know what type of gun and not have to worry about ballistics, at least for Patricia.
They still had to connect the two murders. Rex didn’t seem to be in any hurry to do so. I guess I, too, had to consider two murderers with the same MO.
Chapter 22
Later that afternoon Roni Clark stopped into the McMurphy. I’d just finished my last fudge demonstration. “Hi Allie,” she said. “Suzanne told me to stop in and ask if you’d help me with the hanging flowerpots.”
I stepped out of the fudge shop and walked with Roni through the lobby. Roni was in her mid-thirties and was a fifth-generation Mackinac Islander. She had short brown hair and wide green eyes and wore jeans and a plaid shirt.
“The flowerpots on the Main Street decoration poles?” I asked to clarify.
“Yes,” Roni said. “I’m going on vacation for two weeks and was wondering if you’d take over watering them?”
“Sure, why not?” I said.
“Great! All you have to do is water them once a week. I usually water on Fridays and give them a good drink,” she said.
“Do you use a watering can?”
“No,” she said. “A hose will do; you just have to use some of the store’s outdoor spigots.” She reached into her pocket. “I drew up a map of all the places you can attach a hose and water the plants. I try and do it early because you don’t want to be doing it when the fudgies come in off the ferries.”
I took the map from her and studied it. “Are you sure it’s okay?”
“Absolutely,” she said. “I need you to start this week and next, as I’m off on vacation in about two hours.”
“Well, you can count on me,” I said.
She smiled. “That’s what Suzanne said. Thank you!” She headed toward the door.
“Have a good vacation,” I called after her.
“What was that all about?” Frances asked me.
“I got my first duty assignment for the decoration committee. Looks like I’ll be out watering the flowers tomorrow morning.”
“Well, that’s not too bad,” Frances said.
“Let’s hope not,” I said. I went upstairs to get out of my fudge making clothes when there was a knock on my back door. Mal barked and raced to the door. I looked out the peephole to see Amy standing there. I opened the door. “Amy—”
She pushed into my apartment. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t talk to him about her.”
“Well, I guess I understand that,” I said. “It’s tough to have hard conversations.”
“I want to confront her.” Amy paced in front of my bar. “I asked around and her name is Ashley Barington. She’s married to Thomas Barington and the shame of it is that they have two children.”
“What are you going to do? Go knock on her door?”
“Yes,” Amy said. “Would you go with me?”
“Well, I—”
“Please,” she said. “I’m going either way, but it would be nice to have someone there who also saw Rick go into her home.”
“Fine,” I said. “Let me change really quick.” I climbed out of my fudge making clothes and into a sundress. Then I texted Frances that I was on an errand and asked if she needed me to pick up anything for her.
She texted back that she was okay.
I put Mal on her leash and Amy and I went out the back door and down the steps to the alley. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked. “It’s kind of a big thing.”
“I want to see her face when I tell her what we saw. I figure she’ll give away her shock at being caught. Then I’d like to punch her in the nose.”
“I don’t think punching her is a good choice,” I said. “I can’t condone it. She could charge you with assault.”
“Fine,” Amy said as she strode quickly down Market Street toward Lake Shore Drive. “Then I’ll just tell her to keep her hands off my man.”
“I guess that’s reasonable,” I said. I thought of Melonie, Rex’s second wife, and her anger at me for dating Rex. Would she have punched me in the face? Somehow, I thought she might.
We cut off the road and up the path to the house where we’d seen Rick knock on the door and be let in. The home was a log cabin, and it was beautifully made. Amy built up a good head of steam and Mal and I had to be on our toes to stay caught up to her.
“Slow down and take a breath,” I said.
“I’ve got to do this before I change my mind,” she replied and banged on the door. I could hear someone coming through the house when Amy banged again. “Hello?”
The door opened and a lovely woman of about forty answered. She had her hair up in a messy bun and looked like she’d been doing yoga. My heart went into my throat.
“Ashley Barington?” Amy asked.
“Yes, can I help you?”
“Yes, you can start by keeping your hands off my husband!” Amy shouted.
“What?” Ashley looked confused. “Who? I’m a married woman.”
“Exactly and you should be ashamed, having an affair with my husband, Rick. Don’t lie about it. We followed him last night and saw him come here from the stables. You let him in.”
“Your husband is Rick Houseman?” she asked.
“Yes,” Amy said with tears in her eyes. “And you should know that I won’t take his affair lying down.”
“Oh, honey, we’re not having an affair,” Ashley said. That took the wind out of Amy’s sails. “You’re not? Then why is he coming here at night and telling me that he’s working late at the stables?”
“Rick is doing a wrought iron art piece I commissioned for my husband for our anniversary,” Ashley said. “Please come in. Let me get you some iced tea. I’ll show you the art piece. It’s in the basement.”
“Why wouldn’t he tell me about it?” Amy asked.
“Yes, it does seem odd,” I said as we entered the beautiful home. The kitchen was huge, with skylights and large windows to let in the sun. She motioned for us to sit down at the kitchen table and proceeded to get us iced teas.
“I asked him not to tell a soul,” Ashley said. “You know how small-town Mackinac Island is. I thought if anyone knew—even you, Mrs. Houseman—then word would get out to my Thomas. You see, he works down at the docks as a fishing guide. He hears everything that happens on the island before I do.” She handed us each a tall glass of iced tea and sat down beside me. “It was just a precautionary measure. I had no idea you would think Rick and I were having an affair. What led you to that conclusion?”
“The secrecy,” Amy said and took a gulp of tea to calm herself. “He refused to tell me anything other than he was working overtime at the stables. It just didn’t sound right.”
“She asked me to do some sleuthing with her,” I said and Mal climbed into my lap. “We followed Rick here last night.”
“I almost confronted you then,” Amy said. “But my heart wouldn’t let me.” She put her hand on her heart. “Oh, the fear and anger I felt. I barely slept.”
“I can understand that,” Ashley said. “I don’t know what I’d do if I thought my Thomas was keeping secrets from me.” She sent Amy a soft smile. “Your husband is a pure gentleman and very much in love with you. He would never step out like that.”
“Can we see the art?” I asked.
“Certainly.” She stood. I put Mal down and we followed her to the basement door. She opened it and turned on the light and led us down the stairs. “I know it seems odd to hide the art in the basement, but it’s where I do laundry and Thomas doesn’t come down here. It’s sort of my she shed, if I have one.”
Downstairs was light and bright. There were shelves filled with quilting scraps and yarn balls. A sewing machine was front and center along with the washer and dryer and a lovely laundry folding table.
“It’s around the corner in the storage room,” she said. She opened a door and clicked on a light. There was a lovely wrought iron fisherman. “It’s almost done.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said. “Amy, I didn’t know Rick was such an artist.”
“I did,” Amy said. “He went to fine art school and studied metals and sculpting. It doesn’t pay well so he became a blacksmith and farrier part-time.”
“This is amazing,” I went on. “I think we should have the town commission some pieces for Main Street. I know I’d love one right outside the McMurphy.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Ashley said. “I’m on a first-name basis with the mayor. It’s a great idea for the downtown beautification committee.”
“Wow, if he was commissioned to sculpt, he could have his own studio just like he’s always dreamed,” Amy said. “Who would have thought I came here to wrongfully accuse you and you would put in a good word for him. Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” she said, and we left the closet and went back upstairs. “I’m so glad you stopped by. I’m afraid if you had gone to Rick with this, he would have felt compelled to keep my secret. That would have just made things worse.”
“Yes, it would have,” Amy said. “Well, we won’t keep you.”
“I do have a quick question,” I said. “I saw that you sew.”
“I quilt, actually. I make quilts for cancer patients.”
“Of course, you do,” Amy said wryly.
“Do you by chance belong to the sewing circle?” I picked Mal up.
“I do, why?” Ashley asked.
“I understand that Winona and Patricia both belonged to the circle. Would you know if there was any bad blood between them and anyone else?”
“You mean, would someone from the sewing circle want to kill them?” Ashley asked. “I can imagine that someone would. Those two ladies were always at odds with each other and then other ladies in the circle. I swear they made someone angry every other week. So, yes, I can imagine the killer is from the sewing circle. The thing is that this has been going on for years. So why kill now?”
“Maybe the killer had reached a breaking point and just snapped,” I suggested. “Is there anyone you think might fit that bill?”
“I can think of one or two,” Ashley said. She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and wrote something down and handed it to me. “Go see Blanche Snodgrass. Here’s her address. If anyone in the sewing circle was plotting murder, Blanche would be the one to know.”
“Thanks,” I said as we stepped out onto the back deck.
“Just one thing,” Ashley said. “Don’t tell her I sent you. I don’t want to be embroiled in anything. Okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed. No embroiling her in any dispute, especially murder.
Chapter 23
The next morning, I’d finished filling the counter with fudge and had put on a light jacket and taken Mal out for her morning walk. We were up the street, close to the senior center, when I heard my name being called.
“Allie, thank goodness you’re here,” Carol said as she stormed my way. “You have to come to my house.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Irma and I just got back from our power walk and someone’s broken into my home.”
“Oh, that’s not good,” I said and Mal and I hurried to Carol’s house. She opened her picket fence and took us around the two track and grass drive to the back door.
“See?”
The window in the door was smashed and the door was standing open. “Have you gone in?”
“No,” Carol said. “I guess I panicked and went down the street to get the police when I saw you.”
“I’ll call Rex,” I said and got out my phone. “Don’t touch anything.” I dialed Rex’s number.
“Manning,” he answered, his voice sexy gruff.
“Rex, it’s Allie,” I said. “I’m with Carol and someone’s broken into her home.”
“Are you safe?” he asked, his voice changing to all business.
I glanced around. “I think so. We’re outside and the back door is smashed and open.”
“Go around to the front and stay out of the house,” he said. “I’m on my way.”
We went out to the front porch and sat down on the porch swing until Rex arrived and kickstanded his bike. “Are you ladies okay?”
“We’re fine,” I said. “We’ve been sitting here waiting for you.”
“Stay here,” he said and went around the back.
We stood and peered our heads around the corner and watched as he disappeared.
“Who could have done such a thing?” Carol said. “I’ve lived on the island my whole life and never had anyone break in. This is so shocking.”
I put my arm around her. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I wish my husband were here,” she said. “He’s on a month long fishing trip in Canada.”
“Gosh, so you’re really home alone?”
“Yes,” she said with tears in her eyes.
I gave her a squeeze and the front door opened. Rex stuck his head out.
“It’s safe, you ladies can come inside.”
We went in through the front and the living room was pristine.
“Looks like they didn’t get to the living room,” I said.
“I think you came home before they thought you would,” Rex said as we moved into the kitchen. The kitchen was a torn-up mess. There were dishes everywhere, flour and sugar strewn across the floor, on the cabinets and on the table. Written in the flour were the words you’re next. I felt a shiver run down my spine.
“How could they have left without me seeing them?” Carol asked. “I was here, saw the door and went straight to find help.”
“You left to find help,” I said. “They could have gotten away then.”
“True,” Carol mused.
“The kitchen wasn’t the only room they tore apart,” Rex said. “They were also in your bedroom.” We followed Carol through the kitchen door to the back bedroom and saw that it too was tossed. Her mattress was flipped; sheets and blankets everywhere. Carol put her hand to her mouth and made a small sound.
I put my hand on her shoulder. “It’s going to be all right,” I said. “I’ll help you right it.”
“They were in my bedroom.” She moved as if to pick up the underwear scattered on the floor.
“Don’t touch anything,” Rex said. “I’ve called in Shane. He needs to go over the house for evidence. You don’t make this kind of mess without leaving evidence.”
“Who would want to do this?” Carol asked.
“Who knew what time you went power walking every morning?” Rex asked and took a pen and small pad of paper out of his pocket.
“I guess anyone could have known,” Carol said. “Irma and I go every day and we see a lot of people on our walk.”
“Anyone is not helpful,” Rex muttered. “You go at the exact same time daily?”
“At my age you become a creature of habit,” Carol said. “Besides, it’s Mackinac Island. It’s safe.”
“Not currently,” I said.
“Any idea why you would be targeted?” Rex asked.
“None,” Carol said. “I’ve not made any enemies lately.”
“But you have been investigating the murders,” I pointed out. “You might have come close to figuring out who did it and they got scared and tried to scare you off.”
“There’s more in the bathroom,” Rex said.
We went to see and there on the mirror, written in lipstick, were the words This is for Natasha. You should have never let her be disqualified.
“Wow.” I looked at Rex. “You need to bring the Alpines in for questioning again. They are the only ones who would care about Natasha not being queen.”
“I’ve got that planned,” he said. “Mrs. Tunisian, do you know of any reason why the Alpines might want to threaten you? Besides the fact that Natasha was disqualified?”
“None,” she said. “Other than I’ve been asking questions about the murders.” She frowned. “Do you think the Alpines want me to stop?”
“What have you been asking around about?” Rex asked.
“The sewing circle,” Carol and I said at the same time.
“Patricia and Winona were both in the sewing circle and were pushing their weight around,” I said.
“Come to think of it, Helen Alpine is also in the sewing circle,” Carol said. “I need to ask Francine Fikel—she’s a long-time member—if Helen was at odds with Winona or Patricia.”
“Why does Helen worry you? Is she a good shot?” I asked. “Does she own a handgun?”
“Those are questions for me to ask,” Rex said. “I think if there’s one thing to learn from this, ladies, is that it’s not safe for you to be investigating.”
There was a short knock at the door and Officers Brown and Lasko walked in with Shane. “Wow,” Megan said. “This is a mess.”
“There’s a couple of threats,” Rex said as we walked back into the kitchen. “I think Mrs. Tunisian interrupted them because they only got to the back of the house. The front seems untouched.”
