Reuben said. I’d called him first thing after I got up. He came over and had breakfast with Esther and me. Now we sat out on the front porch in Esther’s white rocking chairs, drinking coffee. “Someone put that fudge in my room,” I said in a low voice. “Someone besides Esther. I gave it to Zac, and he got really sick.” “But it could have been the stromboli.” “Yes, that’s true. But where did the fudge come from? And why would someone take the box?” He took a sip of coffee. I could tell he was turning the situation over in his mind. “You’ve got to ask Zac about it.” “I did, but he was still groggy. He doesn’t remember eating the fudge. In fact, he doesn’t remember much at all about last night.” “Maybe you should ask him again when he’s feeling better.” “I will.
