Oh Say Can You Fudge Read Online Free Page B

not,” Rex said.
    “Coffee, anyone?” Frances brought over a tray full of hot coffees.
    “Thanks!” I said.
    We all dove in and grabbed coffees. I hugged the warm cup to my chest and watched Archie frown as Sherman gulped down the cup as if it were water. Sophie hugged her coffee and sipped it as if it were ambrosia. The look on her face made me smile.
    “You should come by the McMurphy,” I said. “We have a coffee bar, open twenty four-seven.”
    “I may just take you up on that,” Sophie said.
    “Jenn figured you all could use refreshments.” Frances pointed to my best friend in the distance.
    Jennifer was five-foot-nine and a curvy size six. You couldn’t hate her for it because she was so darn nice and smart and loyal. Anyway, she had arrived on her bike with a two wheeled trailer in tow which held coolers and various small portables. Jen set up coffee, lemonade, and water dispensers on a small portable table. Her long black hair was safely pulled into a single braid down her back. She wore khaki shorts and a pink polo with the Historic McMurphy Hotel and Fudge Shop embroidered above the front pocket.
    Leave it to Jenn to show up with drinks and sandwiches. The men in the group headed straight for her. I’m going to say it was the food. After all, everyone knew she was dating Shane Carpenter, a local crime scene investigator. I’d like to think I had something to do with that. I was the one who’d introduced them. Of course, it wasn’t exactly a social occasion, but they seemed to make the best of it.
    “I’m going to head out, ladies,” Sophie said. “I’m beat.”
    “Thanks for saving me, today,” I said. “Seriously, feel free to come by the McMurphy. We have fudge . . . and coffee.”
    Sophie laughed. “Fudge is the last thing I need.” She patted her taut abdomen. “But coffee like this is always welcome.”
    Frances and I watched her walk toward the runway where the planes were parked until the sound of men laughing caught my attention. I glanced back toward Jenn. She had them eating out of her hand . . . literally. “What kind of sandwiches did she bring?” I asked Frances as the pile disappeared into the hands of tired firefighters.
    “Ham with cheddar cheese and turkey with Swiss cheese.” Frances tucked the tray under her arm and sipped her cup of coffee. “Are you okay?”
    “Sure, why?” I asked, turning my gaze from the group.
    “You’re shivering and it’s seventy-eight degrees out,” she stated.
    “Stupid adrenaline.” I frowned.
    “Drink your coffee. Then you should head back to the McMurphy before you fall down from exhaustion.”
    “Okay, but I’ll need to let Rex know I’m leaving.” I sipped the warm brew. It tasted sharply bitter. I liked coffee for the bitterness. Some people loved it doctored up with flavors and sugar, but I liked mine with cream at the most, just enough to smooth out and give body to the bitterness. “The coffee is great.”
    “Jenn made it,” Frances said. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your bike.”
    I froze. “My bike! I completely forgot about it. I had parked it next to the warehouse.” I handed Frances my coffee and rushed to where my bike was parked. Thankfully, it was still there. Covered in soot and smoke, it appeared unharmed.
    “The cinder blocks saved it.”
    I turned to see Liz MacElroy surveying the damaged building. She stood about my height with black hair pulled back into a no nonsense ponytail, and bright blue eyes. She wore khaki cargo shorts, a baby blue tank, and a plaid, short-sleeved shirt over the tank.
    “Hi Liz. When did you get here?”
    “I got here as soon as I heard the explosion. The sight of sparkling fireworks in the daytime was like sending up a flare. It caught everyone’s attention.” She had a smudge on the side of her cheek that I hadn’t noticed when I first looked at her. “I spent some time with the volunteers stomping out cinders in the woods.”
    “Ed Goodfoot said we were lucky it