To Fudge or Not to Fudge (A Candy-Coated Mystery with Recipes) Read Online Free Page A

useless when moving a copper kettle filled with boiling fudge.
    While Jennifer’s hair floated in soft curls around her shoulders, mine was pulled back in my attempt for a low ponytail—most of it was in the ponytail. I ignored the wild curls that had slipped out of their confines and flew about my face.
    “Allie, what’s going on?” Trent pushed his way toward us through the crowd. He wore jeans and a pale blue chambray shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Like me he was a small-business owner. His family had run the island stables for over one hundred years. “You have to know you can’t call me like that and not expect me to follow up.”
    “How’d you know we were here?” I asked as he bussed a kiss on my cheek. I kissed his cheek as well. It was a nothing kiss, really. He turned to Jenn and kissed her as well, then stood between us.
    “I didn’t. I was headed toward the McMurphy when I saw the crowd and the crime-scene tape. It didn’t take long to put two and two together.”
    “What does that mean?” I put my hands on my hips.
    He chuckled. “It means that where there’s a crime scene, you are usually somewhere close by.”
    “I’m sure there were plenty of crime scenes before I got on island.”
    He raised one dark eyebrow and gave me a look that clearly said I was wrong.
    “Mal dug up a bone,” Jenn said. “Allie got suspicious when there was a bit of argyle sock hanging off of it.”
    “The boot part filled with toe bones was also a big clue.” I hugged myself.
    “Where’s Mal now?” Trent asked, looking around.
    “Frances came and got her. Officer Manning was afraid she would disturb the rest of the crime scene.”
    “You do realize,”—he tilted his head and looked at me—“there weren’t any murders until you moved onto the island.”
    “That you know of.” I scowled at him. “Besides, Shane says these are dry remains. They could be too old for me to have been on island when the body was buried.”
    “Then why call me about Karus?” Trent said. “Everyone saw him supervising when the horses came home.”
    “There’s a possibility the body decomposed in the last month or so depending on conditions,” Shane interjected.
    “Angus thought the argyle socks and steel toe of the boot might have belonged to Steven. But since it isn’t him, then the person must have died before I got on island. Right, Angus?”
    Angus raised a bushy brow. “Don’t bring me in on this. I’m still carrying my rabbit’s foot.” He winked at me and pulled the white paw out of his pocket.
    “I don’t get it,” Jenn said. “Why do you need a rabbit’s foot? That’s not real, right?” She wrinkled her nose in disgust.
    “Angus thinks I’m bad luck for old men.” I shook my head. “He’s afraid if he gets too close he’ll end up dead.”
    “Well . . .” Trent said with a chuckle.
    I gasped at his inference and pushed him. The man was a slab of muscle and barely budged. So I gave him the squinty eye. My expression only made him laugh harder, showing off white, even teeth in his tanned face. “I’ve got fudge to make.” I huffed off. Really, a girl didn’t want a reputation as a man killer. It sort of ruined any dating life. Not that I had time for dates.
    “Hey, Allie.” Mrs. Renkle waved at me from her front porch. She had a broom in her hand and swept the dust off the porch.
    “Hi, Mrs. Renkle.” I waved back. “How are you today?”
    “Terrible. Got a crick in my neck and my lucky knee says there’s a storm coming.”
    I tried not to smile. Mrs. Renkle was always terrible and loved telling anyone who would listen about her ailments. “I’ll bring some fudge by,” I offered. “Chocolate is good for what ails you.”
    “That’s not what I heard,” she muttered and continued to sweep.
    “I’ll bring it by later this afternoon, say around three?”
    “I’ll be taking a nap,” she grumbled back.
    “Perfect.” I wagged my fingers at her. “See you then.”
    “Not