I don't find a dead body every time I take Mal — my bichonpoo puppy — for a walk. Really. In fact, it had only happened once. But finding dead people seems to be a theme for me since I returned to Mackinac Island to run the historic McMurphy Hotel and Fudge Shop. It was no surprise to anyone that I had 9-1-1 on speed dial on my cell phone.

"9-1-1. What is your emergency?"

I could tell it was Charlene on the phone. She worked long hours. In fact, so many hours I had begun to think she was a workaholic like me. "Hi Charlene," I said as brightly as possible. Water dripped down the side of my face and I wiped it away.

"Allie McMurphy, is that you?" she asked.

"Yes, it's me," I replied, trying to slow my heavy breathing. I was soaked and my muscles shook from the stress of dragging a dead weight out of the water and over the three foot marina wall.

"Who's dead now?" Charlene asked.

I think she was kidding. I wasn't. "I'm not quite sure," I said and stared down at the purplish face of the woman I had just pulled from the lake. Something was vaguely familiar about her, but it was hard to tell. People looked different when they were dead.

"But there is a dead person," Charlene stated. "Seriously?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Can you contact Rex?" Officer Rex Manning was my go-to guy whenever I found trouble ... which seemed to be often.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at the marina off Main Street near the coffee shop."

"Allie, it's yacht race week. A dead body in the marina would be disastrous."

"Well, I didn't put it there." I stifled a shiver. Yacht racing happened a couple times on Mackinac Island. It was the first of the season and people were gearing up for the influx of boaters and boat enthusiasts. In fact, just yesterday I was at the yacht club with my best friend Jenn Christensen helping to coordinate an event.

Jenn was the event planner, not me, but I went along for support and because I was doing everything I could to gain access into Mackinac Island society. Small business was about community and I was working hard to become a part of the tight knit community that was Mackinac Island.

"Rex is on his way," Charlene said, "along with a crew of first responders. Are you sure the person is dead?"

I noted the pallor of skin and that the open eyes looked glazed over and colorless. "I think she's been dead a while." A shiver took me. It was a cool morning. The sun had just started to come up when I began the walk and now that I was soaked through, the wind felt cold against my skin.

"Okay," Charlene said. "I'll stay with you until Rex gets there."

"Thanks." I brushed my currently seaweed-like strands of hair out of my face. Mal was having a good time sniffing the girl I'd managed to drag mostly onto the grassy knoll in front of the marina. I hugged my lake water–soaked, legging-covered knees to my equally soaked shirtdress-covered body. "Mal, come here."

I snagged my dog away from the dead girl and held Mal to me. Her warm little body was a comfort. It was still early. The first ferries had yet to arrive with their boatload of tourists. It was quiet. Some of the maids and groundskeepers had started their walk from the workers' quarters to the hotels to start their day. The shops would not open for at least another hour and a half.

"Your puppy is with you?" Charlene asked. "Is there anyone else nearby?"

I looked around. "No. The marina is pretty quiet. Mal alerted me there was something in the water. As soon as I saw the woman, I jumped in to save her, but it was too late. She really is quite cold and stiff."

"She's most likely in rigor," Charlene said. "I never thought I'd ever say that out loud in my life. But I've been brushing up on my dead body terminology a lot since you moved here."

I winced at the tone of her voice. "Like I said, Mal found her." I looked at my puppy. She was nearly six months old and wagged her little stub tail at the sound of her name. "She has a good nose."

"You two are quite the pair," Charlene said.

The first time I ever called 9-1-1 Charlene had not believed me. She thought I was a prank caller. Now all I had to do was say my name and she assumed the worst. In fact everyone on the island assumed the worst.

"What were you doing near the marina?" she asked.

"Mal needed her morning walk and I wanted to see the yachts that came in for this weekend's race." A glance over my shoulder showed me that the marina was full of large sailing boats. Some people on the boats had begun to stir. A gentleman in shorts and a T-shirt came out on his deck with a coffee cup in hand. I watched as he stretched and looked at the lake then did a slow turn. I shuddered when he did a double take at the sight of me and Mal and the pale bloated body of a woman wearing a bright blue and orange, color-blocked dress. Her feet were bare. She had painted her toenails robin's egg blue.

"A guy on his yacht spotted us," I told Charlene and waved at the guy who stared with his mouth wide open. I suppose seeing a dead body first thing in the morning would be a bit of a shock for anyone.

"Don't let him get close," she warned. "We don't need a crowd messing up the crime scene."

In the distance I heard the siren of the ambulance. The state of the art ambulance and fire truck were the only motor vehicles allowed on the island. Other transportation on the island that time forgot was limited to horse and carriage, bicycle, or foot traffic.

"Is everything okay down there?" the man hollered from the deck of his yacht.

"Things are under control," I called back and pointed at my cell phone. "I've called 9-1-1."

"What happened?" Police Officer Rex Manning had pulled up on his bike, hit the kickstand, and walked carefully toward me.

Mal, of course, having no respect for possible crime scene evidence, wiggled out of my embrace and raced up to greet him with a twirl and a nose bump. Rex absently patted Mal as he walked to where I sat next to the body.

"I pulled her out of the water," I said and trembled. "I tried pushing water out of her lungs, but she was already gone."

"Long gone from the looks of her," he said as he squatted down beside me. "She was in the lake?" He didn't look at me as he took a pen out of his pocket and lifted the hair away from her face. Rex wore his uniform well. He had the chest and shoulders of a man who worked out regularly at the gym. I always thought of him as having that action hero kind of look with his shaved head and gorgeous eyes.

"Yes, she was in the water near the pier where the coffee shop is." I pointed toward the spot. "I didn't see her at first. Mal pulled me to the edge so I went to see what she was fussing about."

"Your pup has a good nose for death." He frowned. "I think I know who this is."

"Is that good or bad?" I asked and bit down as my teeth started to chatter.

He glanced at me. "You need to get warm." Standing, he waved down the EM Ts.

George Marron came down to where we were with a blanket in one hand and a med kit in the other.

"She might have hypothermia," Rex said to him.

George draped the blanket around my shoulders. "Whenever I get a call with Allie involved, I automatically bring one." He was a little taller than me and Rex. He had high cheekbones, long, black hair that he wore in a braid down his back, and black eyes that spoke of his native ancestors.

I huddled in the warmth. "I don't...