Maple Syrup Mysteries Box Set 2: Books 4-6

by Emily James

  Guilt is what I would have felt if I’d spilled grape juice on her white dress. This was more like shame. “I’ll still give her a call later, and I’ll tell Nancy that there’s not anything we can do except let the police investigate and hope for the best.”

  Another long pause. Long enough this time that if I’d been talking to anyone else, I would have thought they forgot to stay goodbye before hanging up.

  “I don’t know how much help this will be, since you can’t tell Nancy or her niece any of this,” Mark finally said, “but the chief knows there are holes in the case against Holly. Based on the results of the autopsy, the spike came from a downward angle, suggesting the killer was taller than Drew. Unless Holly Northgate snacked on an Alice in Wonderland ‘Eat Me’ cake, I don’t think she could have grown by five or more inches in the few minutes she would have had to kill Drew. Holly either had an accomplice or she isn’t the killer.”

  7

  I sat in silence for almost a minute after ending the call with Mark. He was right. I couldn’t even give Nancy hope by hinting at the holes in the case against Holly. Fair Haven was too small a town. Even if all I said was something vague like They say it’s not an open-and-shut case, Nancy might tell that to her niece, and her niece might tell someone else, and by the end of the week, half the people I loved in this town would be out of a job.

  The sound of the electric mixer in the kitchen stopped, and the creak of the oven door opening again followed it. Nancy came from the kitchen with a fresh glop of something on her apron and the smell of bananas hanging around her. Baking must be how she dealt with stress.

  She sat on the couch next to me. “What did they say?”

  I reached for her hand again and she let me take it. It was the only thing I could do to let her know she wasn’t alone and hopeless, even though it might seem like it. “The police are going to investigate fairly.”

  Nancy twisted her oven mitt. “I don’t think that’s enough. Police make mistakes. Judges make mistakes. And innocent people like Holly pay for them. Look at Russ and how he almost went to prison for murdering your Uncle Stan.”

  If my dad was right, innocent people went to prison a lot less than the news media would have us believe. Nancy wasn’t entirely wrong, either, though. It did occasionally happen. “Once they find Holly, if they still charge her with Drew’s murder, you’ll be able to hire her a good lawyer to argue her case.”

  “Will you do it?” Nancy squeezed my hand so hard I felt the bones move. “I’d be willing to hire you right now so you can start building a defense for her.”

  I’d walked into that one. She might have even thought I was implying I wanted the case. “I’m not really a lawyer anymore.”

  “You defended Bonnie.”

  How could I explain to Nancy without going into all the things in my past that I wanted to leave behind? Defending people I knew were guilty used to eat away a part of my soul. I couldn’t risk that Holly actually had killed Drew with an accomplice. I didn’t want to ever defend someone I knew was guilty again. It was like spitting in the face of the victim’s family. “Bonnie was a special case. I wasn’t defending her. I helped negotiate her plea deal.”

  “Then do that for Holly. If she’s innocent, you can defend her. If she’s guilty, we’ll convince her to take a plea deal like Bonnie did. She’ll tell me the truth once we find her.”

  The part of me that wanted everyone to like me, urged me to just say yes, but Nancy deserved the truth. “I’m not a very good lawyer. I could help you find someone else.”

  “Baloney!” Nancy’s face was much too serious for the goofy term I hadn’t heard anyone say since my grandma passed away.

  I swiped a hand over my lips to wipe the smile away.

  “No niece of Stan Dawes could be bad at what she does,” Nancy said.

  The smile died naturally without my hand’s help. In Virginia, I’d had to live with constant comparison to my talented parents. Their firm was the first choice of the wealthy because they got results. I couldn’t even speak in front of a jury without ending up tongue-tied.

  Part of why I’d come to Fair Haven was to escape that. Instead, I’d apparently jumped from their shadow into Uncle Stan’s.

  That I-know-you-won’t-let-me-down look was back on Nancy’s face. Part of what drew me to Fair Haven in the first place was the intense loyalty among Fair Haven residents and the willingness to help each other during times of need.

  If I turned her down now, it’d be personal. It’d be like saying I didn’t want to help her. Nancy had remained loyal to me and to Sugarwood even when she had to go to the hospital after being accidentally burned. She’d helped me learn how to make maple butter and maple sugar. And she’d stayed up late with me the day of Drew’s murder to talk me through making butter tarts so I wouldn’t disappoint Mark’s parents.

  She’d probably received the call from her niece shortly afterward telling her that Drew was dead, Holly was missing, and the police were asking a lot of questions.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll do it.”

  Nancy gave my hand another squeeze and insisted on packaging up most of the goodies on her kitchen table to send home with me as a thank-you.

  I slumped back into her too-stiff couch to wait. As hard as I tried to escape being a lawyer, I kept ending up back at this place. This wasn’t supposed to be who I was anymore.

  If you really wanted to stop, the voice in my head that sounded annoyingly like my mother said, you wouldn’t have gone through the steps to be able to practice law in Michigan.

  The accusation hit a little too close to home.

  8

  The next morning, I put the address that Nancy had given me for her niece’s house into my GPS and turned out of the Sugarwood laneway and onto the main road. Nancy had called her niece while I was still at her house the day before and set up an appointment. My parents had taught me that every successful case began with research. If I was going to defend Holly, I needed to know more about her and more about her relationship with Drew. That would prepare me for what kind of case the prosecution would put together in terms of motive. Then I could go about dismantling it.

  The thought felt slimy in my brain. It sounded too much like something my parents would think.

  I wasn’t my parents. If Holly turned out to be guilty, we’d make a plea, just like Nancy said, or I’d have to help her find alternative legal counsel. In the meantime, I’d work on building a case for her defense if she was innocent, including trying to figure out who else might have had a motive to kill Drew. All we needed was reasonable doubt.

  My car’s GPS took me into a neighborhood of small, tightly packed homes. Most of the driveways were neatly shoveled and salted, but none of them seemed to have much in the way of a yard.

  My GPS instructed me to turn right into the next driveway. The older-model red Honda in the driveway matched the description Nancy had given me of her niece’s car, and as she’d warned me, the house number was nearly impossible to see from the road because of the porch light. The house itself was weathered white siding and looked like it wouldn’t be much bigger inside than the apartment I’d had back in DC.

  My stomach felt like it was twisting up. I hadn’t talked fees with Nancy yesterday. If the going rates for a quasi-decent defense attorney in Michigan were even close to what they were in DC, it’d cost Nancy more than she earned in a year. And I knew exactly how much she earned in a year because I’m the one who signed off on her salary.

  Based on the appearance of her niece’s house and my memory of what Drew’s mom had said about Drew working hard to save up for Holly’s tuition as well as his own, Nancy’s niece didn’t make more per year than Nancy did.

  A woman who looked to be in her early forties stepped out onto the porch, a tan sweater wrapped tightly around her. Her light brown hair was cropped close to her head. She waved.

  I left my car and climbed the porch steps. The closer I got, the more Holly’s mom reminded me of a
faded-out picture.

  She extended a hand. Even her handshake felt washed out. “I’m Daisy Northgate. Holly’s mom.”

  Daisy. The bright, cheerful name didn’t fit now, but if she’d been anything like Holly in her youth, I could see it fitting once upon a time.

  Daisy took my jacket, but didn’t hang it up on the set of hooks along the entryway wall. “I think we’ve wasted your time, and I don’t want to take up any more of it. My husband and I discussed it last night, and even with Aunt Nancy’s help, we can’t afford your services. We’ll have to stick with whatever public defender they give Holly.”

  “There aren’t any fees. Your aunt’s been kind to me, and I’m glad for the chance to do something nice for her.”

  The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to think about them, but as soon as I said them, the tense, twisting feeling in the pit of my stomach evaporated. I couldn’t charge them for this. I didn’t need the money, and with the maple syrup season coming to an end, I wasn’t even needed around Sugarwood right now most of the time. Uncle Stan had clearly been organizing the business to run without him so that he’d be able to retire at some point. Other than the few ideas I had for expanding the business, I was basically superfluous.

  Daisy’s throat worked and she dipped her head. She hung my coat on the wall.

  “How about you show me Holly’s room?” I said to save her from having to try to thank me. I could see the thank you. That was plenty for me.

  Daisy led me down a narrow hall. It opened up into the small living room and a set of stairs. The whole place felt closed in, a stark contrast to the sunny, open-concept house I’d inherited from Uncle Stan—a house I’d taken for granted as normal because I’d come from similar circumstances.

  Daisy started up the stairwell. “The police came with a warrant and took her computer. The rest of her things aren’t even the way she left them. Her room was a mess after the break-in we had the other day.”

  “That’s okay. This is just a place for us to start.” I’d been so distracted by the trouble I’d caused Erik and Elise and by stepping back into my past life as a lawyer that I’d almost forgotten about the break-in. “Was anything taken?”

  Daisy glanced back over her shoulder. “From Holly’s room?”

  That would be helpful to know, but I also wanted to figure out whether the murder and the break-in were connected. If it’d been kids looking for stuff they could pawn, items should have gone missing from the rest of the house. “From the house in general. Were any electronics missing? Jewelry?”

  “They took our computer. It was six or seven years old, so it can’t be worth much to them, but it’s the only thing we had worth stealing since the police already had Holly’s laptop. I don’t exactly keep a lot of jewelry or fine china around.”

  Her gaze skimmed over my white, yellow, and pink gold trinity loop necklace and down to my designer boots.

  I smoothed my hands over my skirt. The Milano piqué knit jacket and matching tunic and skirt I’d selected probably cost me more than the Northgates spent on two or three months’ rent. When I’d picked it out, I’d only been thinking about appearing professional, and this was one of the outfits I would have chosen to wear to a first meeting with a client back when I worked for my parents’ law firm. But their clients easily grossed six, even seven, figures.

  To Daisy Northgate, it probably made her feel lesser, judged, maybe even like I wouldn’t care about helping her daughter the way I should. I’d have an uphill climb now to prove to her that I cared just as much about Holly as about any of the wealthy clients whose cases I’d worked on. Maybe more, because I believed Holly had a chance at being innocent.

  Daisy swung open the door directly at the top of the stairs. “This is Holly’s room.”

  Objectively, the room was tiny, with only a single window on the far wall. Subjectively, it was stunning. Holly had somehow managed to place the furniture and mirrors in such a way that even with both Daisy and I standing in it, it didn’t feel cramped. And the flowery greens and purples, colors I never would have thought to put together, added a warmth and vibrancy.

  I must have been gawking because Daisy smiled for the first time since she invited me inside. “Holly and Drew fell in love because they were both artists in a way. For Drew, it was photography. For Holly, it was interior design.”

  The wall I’d accidentally built with my clothing selection seemed to lose a couple bricks.

  I moved around the room for a better look. The empty spot on the desk must have been where Holly’s laptop normally sat. Papers and photos spread out across her bed. I scooped up a handful. I could immediately tell the ones that had been taken by Drew—his unique viewpoint stood out—but none of them looked important. Most of them were photos that were obviously from Holly’s childhood.

  But the bed didn’t strike me as the place they were usually kept. “Did the police set these out, or were they rummaged through by the intruder?”

  Daisy sank down on a clear edge of the bed. It creaked underneath her. “The person who broke in. I think Holly kept them on her desk or in the drawers.”

  Papers and photos didn’t hold value for the average break-and-enter offender. “Only this stuff, or did they go through anything else?”

  Daisy did the type of eye roll where her head followed the motion. “They went through everything else. Her clothes were thrown all over the room.”

  That, though, did sound like a thief scrambling to find anything of value and get out quick. The break-in wasn’t the only hint that Holly might not have killed Drew, so even if the two were unconnected, it didn’t sign Holly’s name into the prison logs.

  I cleared a second spot on Holly’s bed and wiggled my way up so I could sit with my legs tucked to the side. There wasn’t another way to sit on a bed in a skirt and still look even remotely modest. And I doubted Daisy would appreciate a lawyer who seemed like an oaf any more than she’d appreciate a lawyer who wouldn’t take their case seriously.

  I kept a respectful distance between us and didn’t take her hand the way I did Nancy’s. Clearly, the lines were going to be different here. What I needed to do was figure out where they were so I could walk them. This would fall apart entirely if Daisy didn’t cooperate.

  I made sure I caught her gaze before I started. Eye contact, my father used to say, always makes people think you’re telling the truth and you’re on their side even when you’re not. “I’m going to have to ask you some questions you might not like as we work together to protect Holly. Are you ready for that?”

  She rested her hand on her chest for a second, like her heart was beating too fast, then nodded her head.

  “The police have a witness that claims to have heard Holly and Drew having an argument recently. Do you know what that was about?”

  “That.” Daisy let out a huff of air and her hand lowered to her side. “They worked that out. Holly told me.”

  That was completely unhelpful. “I need you to tell me what the argument was about. How did they work it out?”

  Her expression turned to granite. She slid off the bed and moved to the far side of the room, her arms crossed over her chest.

  And then I understood. She still felt like I’d judge Holly or their family or their life.

  I slid to the edge of the bed, but didn’t stand up. I didn’t want to turn this into a showdown. It couldn’t be me against her if we were going to successfully be us defending Holly against the accusations leveled at her.

  I leaned forward slightly. “I wouldn’t normally push for you to tell me things that feel private, but the police will find out everything, even the things you don’t want them to. When I go to court with Holly to defend her, I have to know what to expect. I can’t protect her otherwise.”

  “I know.” Daisy leaned back against Holly’s desk and pinched and released her bottom lip. “I just feel like everything about her will be turned into something bad. Everyone will want to prove she’s the kind of per
son who could kill someone. And she’s not. She’s not like that.”

  What must it be like to be a mother who desperately wanted to spare her child from pain and scrutiny but couldn’t? I couldn’t even begin to guess at all the emotions that must be boiling through her, but anger and frustration were probably high on the list. “I’m going to do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  She nodded her head, once, twice, like she was internally talking herself into trusting me. “One of Holly’s friends saw Drew out to coffee with another girl. The way her friend described it made it sound like Drew was flirting with her and cheating on Holly. Holly…” Her voice took on the throaty quality of someone fighting back tears. “Holly was devastated. She was never the best at choosing the right moment for things, even as a little girl. She screamed at Drew as soon as she tracked him down. Half the town probably saw it.”

  Based on the evidence Mark shared with me, Holly’s impulsivity might actually work in her favor. She didn’t sound like the kind of person to carefully plan a murder, and if Drew’s assailant was taller than him, Holly would have had to plan ahead in order to enlist the help of an accomplice.

  An accomplice she might have been trying to call on her cell phone right before everyone split up to look for Riley. She’d been intent on catching a signal. Anyone who wasn’t a Sugarwood regular wouldn’t have known about the spotty reception in the bush and might have thought they could contact their partner with the location.

  I pushed the thought aside. My job right now was to assume Holly was innocent until she told me otherwise. And to pray that Nancy was right about Holly’s willingness to confess to us if she did do it.

  Besides, Holly and Drew seemed to be getting along fine when I saw them. They didn’t seem like a couple on the verge of breaking up. “How did Drew explain what Holly’s friend saw?”