All I Want For Christmas is Fudge (A Candy-Coated Mystery with Recipes Book 4) Read Free Page B

the nose.
    “They love you,” Allie said when I stood.
    I sent her a squint-eyed look and walked over to the receptionist desk to find a place to keep my coffee safe.
    “Any idea who the victim was?” Allie asked. She smelled of Christmas fudge. She wore a chef’s white coat, black slacks, and black athletic shoes.
    “No,” I said, and leaned against the dark wood. Frances worked behind the receptionist desk. She had a comfortable tall chair and the desk held her computer screen and keyboard. I teased her once that the perch behind the desk was her throne, where she could survey her subjects as they arrived. Allie had had a small sign made that said, QUEEN OF THE MCMURPHY .
    “I imagine if he was a local, Rex would have known him,” Frances said as she read her e-mails.
    “Was there a lot of foot traffic on the trail?” Allie asked. “The island is crawling with Santas.”
    “I suspect most of them are here to drink,” I said with a smile. “There were two guys jogging. I passed them easily before I spotted something red in the snowbank just off to the right.” I sipped. “The poor fellow was planted face-first in the snow, with his arms and legs at weird angles.”
    “And you called nine-one-one . . .” Allie said.
    “Yes,” I said. “Rex Manning and George Marron came out to the scene.”
    “Oh, I bet Rex was happy with that,” Allie said sarcastically. “I swear he thinks I’m the one who brought killers to Mackinac Island.”
    “You have to admit there have been quite a few murders since you arrived in May,” Frances said. “At least you’re not a suspect this time.”
    “Well, Allie might not be, but I think I am,” I said, and blew on my coffee to cool it.
    “What? That’s crazy,” Allie said, and touched my arm. “You’re kidding, right?”
    “No,” I said. “Rex told me not to leave the island until the investigation was over.”
    “Why would you kill someone and then call nine-one-one?” Frances asked.
    “Rex suggested that I called so that Shane would have to come out.”
    “Oh,” Allie said with a twinkle in her eyes. “That’s right. A crime scene would mean Shane would be investigating. How is he? Was he glad to see you?”
    I looked at the floor. My heart hurt a little. “No,” I said, and tried to keep the tremble from my voice. “He was not happy to see me. Not one bit.” I looked up at Allie, who had an expression of concern. “He gave me the cold shoulder and said he’d make quick work of the investigation so I could get back to Chicago.”
    “Oh, now, that’s just wrong,” Allie said, and gave me a hug. “You’ve kept in touch, right?”
    “Yeah, I text and call. At first we texted and called a couple of times a day. Shane came to Chicago for a couple of long weekends. But lately . . .” I paused, not sure what to say. Then I decided if I couldn’t be frank with Allie, then I really had a problem. “Things have fallen off. I think it’s the distance. It’s part of the reason I wanted to come for Christmas week,” I admitted. “I was hoping to see him and rekindle things. I think I’m in love with him.”
    “Well, then he should be happy to see you,” Frances said.
    “That’s what I thought,” I said. “I’d told him I was going to try to come out for the run. I called him last week, but he didn’t return my call.” I drew my eyebrows together. “Do you think he’s found someone else?”
    “I haven’t heard that he’s seeing anyone else,” Allie said, and touched my arm. “Mackinac and St. Ignace aren’t that large. I’m sure word would have gotten out if he has.”
    “Have you been seeing anyone else?” Frances asked.
    “Who? Me?” My eyes went wide. “No, no way. I mean, I tried, but no one was Shane.”
    “What do you mean, you tried ?” Frances asked. Her brown eyes were quite sober.
    “Well, when I first went back to Chicago, Shane and I agreed we should see other people,” I said. “But then we kept calling