Read First-Degree Fudge: A Fudge Shop Mystery Online
Authors: Christine DeSmet
First-Degree Fudge: A Fudge Shop Mystery (13 page)
I asked, “She stole it?”
Izzy laughed. “No. We needed a car. Our old one broke down. She sold it to a jeweler for a couple hundred dollars to buy an old junker. We went back to the diamond field a couple more times, but never found anything. I wanted to go back more, but my mom said we couldn’t afford the gas and time to do that.”
I still didn’t “get” how Izzy could afford this extensive Steuben collection we were standing amid. “How did you come to own your first piece? Which one is your first?”
She pointed to an egg-shaped vase about eight inches tall. “It was a gift to my mom from her employer when she first went into the hospital. I was in high school. She died of cancer.”
“Oh, Izzy, I’m sorry,” I said, realizing I called her a friend and hadn’t taken the time to learn much about her at all. I was shamed by it. “Let’s make a date for dinner sometime and talk. Okay?”
“I’d love that.” She kneaded the tissue between her hands. “You asked how I got my collection. Several pieces came from my mother’s employer as payment for cleaning her house. It took me a while to catch on that rich people stay rich by keeping their cash and giving gifts instead, but that was okay. She told me to save the Steubens because they’d be worth a lot someday. What mattered was that I saw how much my mother loved looking at the glass vase in the hospital, with the light coming in through the window. The glass gave her joy. I guess each piece in here,” Izzy said, casting about in wonder, “gives me joy, too.”
Someone called her from the kitchen and she hurried away.
Pauline’s face held confusion and maybe some of the guilt I felt, too. She said, “Can we really sneak upstairs after that? I feel terrible just thinking about it.”
“We have to look, Pauline. For Izzy’s sake. And Cody’s. And mine. If the sheriff is announcing something by tomorrow, I could be in jail because of those diamonds in my fudge.”
We hurried up the blue-carpeted staircase, pausing at the top to let our eyes adjust to the dim light.
The low muttering of a husky voice came to us. My skin itched with excitement. Who was in what room? John and Taylor were outside, and I presumed Jeremy was, too. That left the Reeds and the Earlywines. Or somebody in the throes of a theft.
The voices came again, from the room to our left, the first one near the top of the stairs. Boyd and Ryann Earlywine. I tiptoed up to their door.
Boyd’s muttering grew louder. “We can’t just take the diamonds with us.”
“Why not?” His wife’s voice feathered through the door. “We’re not suspects, really. That kid did it. That’s what we’ll tell anybody who asks. Nobody’s going to miss a few diamonds anyway.”
Pauline had stayed back. I waved her to come listen. She refused. She stood near the stairwell clinging to her big black bag as if it were a life preserver.
From inside the room Boyd said to his wife, “I saw the kid in that room. He has to know these diamonds were in there. He’ll be coming back for them.”
“Exactly. He killed that woman for the diamonds.”
“He put them in that lady’s fudge to hide them.”
“He’s not that bright,” Ryann said.
I crouched down to put my ear against the keyhole.
Ryann said, “I bet there’s some fudge somewhere that was supposed to be at the party that didn’t have diamonds in it and there was some mix-up. There has to be somebody who thought he or she was picking up the diamonds and got only fudge for their trouble. I’m not even sure the fudge was all that good. Did you see the color? Pink? I’ve never seen pink fudge. Ick.”
I almost barged in right there to give them a piece of my mind but held back.
“Mix-up or not, he killed her,” Boyd said. “But I don’t want to get involved. We’re leaving the diamonds here so we can get the hell out of here. Just leave them across the hall in that loudmouth’s room. He deserves to be arrested. I’m through with being told I have to stay here at this B and B and in this town. I’ve got my research to do.”
“But we came for a lot more than your research. I don’t want to leave empty-handed.”
The door popped open, and I tumbled onto the rug at the Earlywines’ feet.
T
he Earlywines stared at me writhing on the floor and holding my left wrist.
“Ow, ow, ow,” I muttered up at them instead of the curse words I really wanted to say. I was inches from their designer loafers.
Pauline rushed over, slamming her big black schoolbag next to me. While picking me up, she said, “I’m so sorry, everybody. It was this purse. It’s so heavy, and it slipped off my shoulder and tripped her. So sorry. We were coming up to use the bathroom.”
The Earlywines moved into the hallway, then shut their door. Boyd was my height, with short sandy-colored hair and a boy-next-door look. His wife, Ryann, the one I’d overheard wanting to keep diamonds they’d found in Rainetta’s room, was cover-girl pretty with a heart-shaped face framed by a blond bob. Both were fortyish and dressed in sporty leather jackets over blue jeans. Expensive, spicy scents shifted the air around me like an approaching storm.
I held out my hand. “I’m Ava Oosterling.”
Boyd quickly withdrew the hand he’d put out. “The hot fudge lady.”
“It was hot, but I have no idea how the diamonds got in my fudge.”
“Neither do we. Now if you’ll excuse us—”
With Pauline next to me, I easily blocked their path to the staircase. “I heard you talking about diamonds you found.”
Pauline gasped.
For a moment the couple stared at me like two mice caught in a corner by a cat.
Then Boyd sighed, holding out a palm to his wife. “I told you these were trouble.”
From out of her purse, Ryann retrieved a red velvet drawstring bag the size of a deck of cards. Boyd handed the bag to me.
The soft velvet in my right palm weighed hardly anything. After my pleading look, Pauline obliged and untied the drawstring. Nestled in the darkness were tiny crystals, maybe a dozen.
I asked the couple, “You’re sure these are diamonds?”
Boyd shrugged. “I’m here doing research on Talbot Chambers and the lighthouse named after him. We stumbled across the diamonds.”
“By snooping in Rainetta’s room.” I pursed my lips at them.
They both shrugged. Boyd said, “You can keep them.”
Pauline said, “No way.” She backed away.
Boyd took that as his chance to duck through the gap between us with his wife.
As I was being tear-gassed by their spicy perfume, I said to Boyd on the staircase, “I’m going to have to show these to the sheriff and tell him you had them.”
“Actually, you have them now. And I’ll tell the sheriff I saw you sneak into Rainetta’s room with Cody Fjelstad—your conspirator to a murder and diamond heist.”
The couple hurried down the stairs while my mouth hung open. The diamonds in my hand felt like a hot potato. “Here,” I said to Pauline, “put these in your purse.”
“Not in my bag. I’ll be arrested!”
“No, you won’t. I’m the one who will get frisked by the sheriff if he’s suspicious.”
“We’ll leave them up here somewhere.”
“We can’t do that,” I said, shoving them in her bag amid the crayons and Sharpie markers. “Somebody’s going to come back for these.”
“Like the killer? You’ve got to be kidding if you think I’m going to wait around for the headline ‘Killer Kicks Off Kindergarten Keeper.’ That’s not my kind of alliteration.”
“But we know somebody’s going to return to Rainetta’s room for these and whatever else she hid there.”
“How do we know that?”
“Because these diamonds were there after the sheriff inspected her room. Which means they were well hidden. Which means Rainetta knew enough to protect herself from somebody around here who she knew might snoop in her room.”
“You sound crazy from that fall down the stairs.”
“No, Pauline. Cody wouldn’t have been in her room, either, unless somebody put him up to that because they knew the diamonds were there. As in, they still had to pick up the diamonds from Rainetta.”
“Or these are merely her diamonds and she hid them to prevent people from stealing them.”
I relented with a huff. “Perhaps. But my theory was sounding a whole lot sexier.”
“A plot fit for your situation comedy, maybe.” With a sigh, Pauline put her big bag down at my feet on the carpeted hallway. “You take it. It’s no longer my bag. It’s my gift to you. I am not a detective. I’m a teacher.”
“Don’t be silly.” A groan escaped me when I picked up the heavy bag with only my right arm. “What do you have in here? Hidden kindergartners?” I groaned a second time with much drama, holding out my impaired left wrist.
“All right,” Pauline said in a huff, yanking the bag back onto her shoulder. “I’ve got the diamonds. Now what do we do with them?”
“Just don’t let your kindergartners eat them or you’ll be following them into the restrooms with plastic Baggies.”
“Very funny.”
“You’ll be fine. Let’s get back down to that party and see who might sneak back inside.”
“But what about the Earlywines? They had the diamonds. Aren’t we letting them get away with something?”
Pauline was right. As I crept down the hall to Rainetta’s room with Pauline on lookout back at the staircase, I told her what I’d heard Boyd and Ryann say about Cody and about Ryann saying something about coming to Fishers’ Harbor to get something valuable. I countered our suspicions with a lingering reality. “But what if they were merely taking advantage of the situation of Rainetta’s unlocked room and happened to find the diamonds?”
When I opened the door, Rainetta’s room still looked ordinary. I flipped over the scatter rugs by the bed and chair. The floor didn’t appear to have any scratches or loose boards for hiding things. I contemplated the bed and looked under it. Nothing.
I mused out loud, “They didn’t actually kill her, but the Earlywines definitely took those diamonds and were talking like there was something more to it all.”
“What if they’re part of some ring of thieves and murderers?” Pauline asked from the doorway, her face still pale with fear. “I’m used to catching my kindergartners in lies, and the Earlywines were lying.”
“Meaning what?” I tried to lift the mattress with one hand, but couldn’t.
Pauline came over to help. “Isn’t it odd they’d be here at this time of year to research a lighthouse? It’s darn cold out on the water. Nobody visits lighthouses at this time of year. They wait until after Memorial Day.”
There was nothing under the mattress.
I defended the Earlywines again. “He’s a university professor and she teaches music. Why would they risk their careers? And don’t you teachers have codes of honor?”
“He’s young enough yet that his salary probably isn’t all that much more than mine, and did you see the clothes they were wearing? That leather isn’t cheap.”
“Neither was their perfume.” A hint of Ryann’s expensive fragrance lingered in Rainetta’s room. “But if what you’re saying is true, and they were here to pick up diamonds from that heist, that still lets them off the hook for Rainetta’s death. They were out on the boat with my grandfather on Sunday, stuck in Lake Michigan.”
“True. Maybe they and the Reeds were working together. The Reeds were here. Maybe the Reeds and Earlywines know one another and it was all part of some plan.”
I had to give Pauline credit for that supposition.
“But this means we have to talk to Jordy about the heist and get the details,” I said. “By now he might know if these diamonds really are from that case.”
Talking to Sheriff Jordy Tollefson was the last thing I wanted to do, but if the Reeds and Earlywines were connected somehow, that information might be of vital interest to Jordy. Perhaps the murder case could be solved and Cody and I would be off the hook.
Pauline tapped her fingers on the doorjamb. “We should get out of here before we’re caught.”
“I just need to look in the closet. Maybe there’s something hidden in the hems of the clothes. I saw that done in an old movie.”
Pauline said, “That’s even better than hiding stuff in pockets.”
But opening the closet gave me a surprise. The clothes were gone. Had the Earlywines stolen them? Or maybe Isabelle had merely collected them for the manager who was coming for Rainetta’s body and personal effects? That was logical. Yet nothing about this hot-fudge case had been logical so far.
• • •
When we returned to the backyard party, cameras were rolling on the sheriff. It was frustrating not being able to talk to him right away, and yet, amid a crowd of maybe a hundred people, counting all the journalists, was not the place to try to explain my theories about the murder. I’d be questioned in unflattering ways. But then I smiled. They were doing the interviewing right in front of the round dessert table with my Cinderella Pink Fudge. And half the pieces were gone. I hoped that meant people were eating it and not just stuffing it in a pocket as some weird souvenir.
A flash of pink caught the corner of my eye. Over at the bar area, Mercy Fogg was picking at my fudge in front of a news camera manned by a male reporter. Panic set in. I rushed over in time to hear Mercy say, “And we’ll be closing down the Oosterlings soon. The inspectors will be there tomorrow.”
My heart fell into my stomach. Closing me down? Why? I didn’t dare jump in front of the camera. The reporter asked the question for me.
Mercy lifted up the piece of fudge in its pink cellophane. “It’s totally unhealthy there. She had all manner of people bringing food to sell to the public, and who knows what the conditions of their kitchens were. You have to have a commercial kitchen license, and certain health standards must be met. I’m amazed that more people haven’t gotten sick and died.”
“They were church ladies,” I ranted. “The food was blessed!”
The camera swung my way. The male reporter rushed at me.
And I ran.
At least I stumbled as fast as I could in flip-flops and holding on to my wrist. Now a hipbone was aching again, too. I slowed to an uneven limping gait as I rounded the front of the house, then headed down the steep street, finally taking the shortcut past my house to get to Oosterlings’ Live Bait, Bobbers & Belgian Fudge.
Out of breath, I leaned for a moment against my counter.
Whistling startled me.
It was my grandpa, restocking a lower shelf over on his side of the shop. “I thought you and P.M. were at that big party at the Blue Heron.”
After another puff of air, I said, “We were. Gilpa, Mercy Fogg’s sending inspectors here tomorrow.”
“Yeah? What for now?”
“She wants to shut us down. Or me, at least.”
He was humming.
“Grandpa, didn’t you hear what I said?”
“Oh yeah, but I got my motors running again, so if she shuts us down, we’ll just sell bait in here and fudge right off the boat.”
That sounded cool at first blush, but I needed a place for my kettles, the boiler, and the gifts I wanted to sell with the fudge. Not to mention needing space for my white marble table for loafing, plus my supplies.
Gilpa was shaking fish food into the minnow tank. “I’m going home to your grandma. You stickin’ around?”
“Yeah.” My breath was finally returning to normal, but the bruises on my arms felt stiff now, and one knee was ballooned tight against my jeans, as if a bruise there had swollen. “I’m going to whip up a batch of fudge. I might as well use all the ingredients in the place now before I’m shut down. Why can’t Mercy stick to her fight for a stoplight?”
Gilpa gave me a hug that hurt, though I couldn’t let on. He’d be disappointed in me if he found out about my foolish adventures at the old mansion. “You get to sleep early tonight, A.M. I’m fired up about heading out with the boat in the morning. With all the publicity this town’s getting, I’m bettin’ on more fishers than Moose can handle.”
I had to smile. “Maybe there’s an upside to my hot fudge.”
Gilpa laughed as he grabbed his Green Bay Packer cap and slapped it on over his thick, silver hair. “Think you could mind the place by six a.m.?”
“Yeah, sure. I’m glad you got the engines back up.”
“Me too. All’s right with the world. And don’t you worry about that mess with your fudge and that actress. I’ve got some leads on good lawyers, but we won’t need them.”
His confidence buoyed me. The round clock with fish for numbers above the door said it was past “trout” or seven in the evening now. I asked, “Did you happen to catch any news?”
He paused before heading into the back hallway. “You mean did I hear what the sheriff said about tomorrow? Yup. Don’t worry about being arrested.”
I felt heavy as an anchor plunging fast through deep waters. “You heard I was going to be arrested?” Guilt slithered up my back like a snake itching to bite me. Had Jordy found my note in Rainetta’s room after all? Did he know about her diamonds and think I stole them? Did the Earlywines rush right out of the inn to report me?
“Now, now, Ava. Newspeople embellish things. They said the body’s going to be released tomorrow and there’ll be warrants for arrests, but there’s no proof you had anything to do with those diamonds.”
“Except that they were in my sugar sacks.” And Pauline had a sack of diamonds in her purse, which the Earlywines would say we stole from Rainetta’s room, if they hadn’t done so already.