Cupcakes and Conspiracies

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Cupcakes and Conspiracies Page 4

by Katherine Hayton


  Instead, Holly chewed her lip and looked over her shoulder. “I think so.”

  “Well, do you think so or do you know so?”

  The lunchtime crowd piled up behind the woman. If Holly couldn’t clear her out of line soon, the entire shop would burst onto the courtyard outside.

  “Harriet!” A woman joining the back of the line issued the name like it was a stern reprimand. “Make your selection and go. You’re holding up half the town, and we don’t all have the luxury of an hour-long lunch break.”

  “It’s my turn,” Harriet shot back. “I’m allowed to take as long as I like.”

  “Perhaps you’d like to make your decision off to the side,” Holly suggested, desperation leaking out to show in her wringing hands. “When you’ve made your mind up, you can let me know.”

  “Thank goodness,” the man shoving his cash in Holly’s face said. “I’d like a chocolate cupcake, thanks.”

  Holly opened the paper bag and picked up a cake with the tongs.

  “Not that one!”

  “Sorry?” Holly put the cake back down. “Didn’t you want chocolate?”

  “I want that chocolate cupcake,” the man said, pointing to at least three.

  Holly picked the closest one, no. Middle. No. She pushed aside another two to stretch the tongs toward a third, catching another two entrants into the shop from the corner of her eye.

  “That’s the one.”

  Holly handed back his change, trying not to let the growing panic cut off her breathing. When is Crystal getting back? I can’t do this on my own.

  While her big sister voice insisted that not only could she do it, Holly could run rings around Crystal, the queue spread out the door.

  “Need a hand?”

  The woman who’d told off Harriet walked around the edge of the counter. Without waiting for an answer, she pulled an apron out of the drawer and tied it around her waist, then bagged her hands.

  Too late for Holly to say no, even though the woman was a stranger. Rather than look a gift horse in the mouth, she said, “Thank you,” and turned to the next in line.

  The line slowly cleared with the two of them manning the counter. Once the last of the crowd was served, the woman turned and held out her hand.

  “My name’s Meggie,” she said. “I’m from the hairdresser around the corner.”

  “Your name should be godsend,” Holly said, giving Meggie a hug instead. “I thought there was going to be a riot there for a moment. I don’t know how Crystal manages it, plus does all the baking in back.”

  Meggie laughed. “Crowd control becomes a lot easier once you recognize the habits of the local population. It’s no use serving people in order when you know they’ll take an hour to decide.

  Harriet had finally selected a vanilla cupcake as the second to last customer to be served.

  “I’m not sure I’ll be in town long enough to get to that stage,” Holly said. “But thank you so much for helping out. Were you looking for Crystal?”

  Meggie laughed. “No. I was actually looking for a banana cupcake with chocolate frosting.”

  “Done!” Holly said, turning to the portion of the counter before her face fell in despair. “I’m so sorry. We’ve sold out.”

  Instead of being upset, Meggie held a finger to her lips. In an exaggerated whisper, she said, “Don’t tell management but I set one aside.”

  She reached into an alcove beneath the serving trays and pulled out a banana chocolate cupcake.

  “It can be our little secret,” Holly agreed happily. When Meggie tried to hand over the coins for it, she shook her head. “It’s on the house. In fact, if you don’t mind keeping a lookout here, I’ll shout you a coffee, too.”

  “Go on, twist my arm,” Meggie said. “I’d love an Americano.”

  “Done and done. Sit down at the table, and I’ll be two minutes.”

  “Where’s Crystal got to, anyway?” Meggie asked when Holly returned with two huge cups of coffee. “She’s usually back from her run well before the crowd gets too thick.” She laughed. “Ben would freak out if he had to deal with that many people.”

  “Like me, you mean,” Holly said with a smile. “Crystal’s still out making deliveries. We got off to a bit of a late start.”

  Meggie winked. “Staying up all night talking, eh?”

  “Something like that. I disrupted Crystal’s evening plans to bake and then she cooked me an enormous breakfast, which held her up again.”

  “I’m sure it will do her the world of good to have you here, no matter how late you make her.” Meggie stared down into her half-empty cup for a while before looking back up with a serious gaze. “I’ve been worried about her living in that house all alone.”

  “Yes. That and running this place.” Holly frowned down at her hands, wondering if she’d always been such a selfish sister. When her employer told her to take four weeks ‘to consider her future’ she’d run straight back home.

  Until then, Holly didn’t think she’d ever honestly thought about what it must be like for Crystal—coping alone with her dad’s sudden death while having to keep the business going. Tears filled her eyes as Holly realized just how much of a self-absorbed monster she’d become.

  “Hey, now. No need for tears.” Meggie patted Holly on the back of her forearm. “Crystal’s got you here now, and I’m sure you can help each other cope with your father’s loss together.” Meggie paused, looking out at the perfect scene in front of them. “He was a great man. One that the people in town sorely miss.”

  A great man. And half the time Holly had ignored his calls.

  Stop crying. It’s too late to repair your damaged relationship now.

  After a moment of silence, Meggie glanced up at the clock. “Oh, goodness me! I completely lost track of time. I’ll have Mrs. Gibbons coming into the salon in five minutes, wondering where on earth I am.”

  She picked up her cup, ready to take it out the back, but Holly stood and took it from her. “Skedaddle,” she said. “And that’s an order. I owe you one.”

  “If you want to make it up to me, you should shout me to dinner,” Meggie said, one foot already out in the courtyard. “I’d love to hear more about how you ended up back here.” She leaned back inside, lowering her voice. “Then I’ll have one up on all the town tattletales. It’ll drive them nuts! You free tonight?”

  “I certainly am, and I’d be delighted.”

  Holly typed Meggie’s number into her mobile phone.

  “I’ll get in touch once Crystal and I finish up here.”

  Meggie left with a wave, and Holly watched until she walked out of sight around the corner. It had been nice chatting with someone about her own age. All the partners at work were too busy to socialize, and the juniors just made her feel old.

  With a smile, Holly walked back behind the counter.

  An old lady hobbled into the shop mid-afternoon. Crystal still wasn’t back yet, and Holly was trying very hard not to worry. If her sister wanted to take some time to reconnect with good customers, then she should be free to do that without fearing that it would plunge Holly into a state of low dread.

  So far, she’d eaten three cupcakes while trying to convince herself that everything was fine.

  “I’m Esmerelda,” the lady said. She pointed her cane over the counter. “And you’re Holly, eh. A long time since I’ve seen you around these parts.”

  After scanning her memory quickly, Holly felt quite sure she’d never seen the woman before. Certainly, the way she hunched forward, reliant on the cane to fight the good fight with gravity, was memorable. That, and the long curve of her nose. Not to mention the cluster of moles near its tip.

  In fact, old lady seemed like a misnomer. The word that Holly’s brain insisted on was witch.

  “You’re right about that,” Holly said, nervously grinning. “Esmerelda is a lovely name.”

  The woman sniffed. Given how much she had to sniff with, the effect on her upper lip was alarming. Holl
y’s eyes widened as she saw the mouth curl upward, then breathed a sigh of relief as the old witch—oops, woman—breathed out.

  “How can I help you?”

  Eye of newt, leg of toad, she could imagine Crystal supplying. Her false grin turned into a genuine smile.

  “Your sister Crystal was meant to drop off a book at my residence last week. I didn’t like to bother her, she’s been so busy since your father’s death, but I must have it.”

  “I think you’d have to talk to my sister about that, sorry. I don’t know anything about a book.”

  Esmerelda raised her cane again, her legs shaking with the loss of their stable companion. This time, rather than pointing at Holly, she aimed behind her at a shelf. “It’s up there, missy. Won’t take you but a moment to hand it over.”

  When Holly followed the cane, she saw an old, hardboard-covered book tucked onto a high shelf. She had to pull over a chair to reach it. Even her dad must have struggled to get all the way up there.

  The front of the book had a lined section for writing in the purpose. Although someone had taken the trouble to fill out the summary, the ink had faded and smeared unto illegibility by years of use.

  “Here you go,” Holly said, forcing her smile again as she handed it over. The woman’s eyes lit up, and she looked absolutely delighted. Given the rough middle of Holly’s day, she felt good that she could still please someone, some of the time.

  “Thank you, dearie. You’re a good girl, and you can tell anyone in town that Esmerelda said so.”

  She turned to leave, and Holly raced around the counter to shadow the woman’s progress in case she fell. When she caught the expression of irritation on the woman’s face, she fell back a step and watched her go.

  Esmerelda’s progress across the courtyard was painful to watch. Holly ducked into the shade of the door so the woman wouldn’t know she was being spied upon if she turned around. Just as well. A second later, Esmerelda did just that—scanning the empty doorway with a smile of satisfaction.

  Then she changed.

  The cane went up in the air, signaling to another old lady standing next to a car parked across the road. Esmerelda waved the stick back and forth with one hand while holding the book aloft with the other. When her friend clapped her hands in glee, the old woman sprinted across the road to join her by the car.

  Uh-oh. Holly’s stomach plummeted down to her knees at the thought that she’d just done something horribly wrong.

  That thought went straight out of her head a moment later. A woman came sprinting across the courtyard, straight into the bakery. Holly cleared her throat, and the woman spun to face her, reaching forward to grab her hand.

  “You have to come with me,” she shouted, dragging Holly toward the exit. “Mr. Masters has collapsed in the café, and the police think that Crystal is responsible!”

  Chapter Six

  In her distress, Holly nearly forgot to secure the bakery. As she sped past the first table, her hand still gripped by her unexpected visitor, a patron stood and pointed. “Do you want me to look after it, love?”

  Holly wriggled out of the woman’s grip and ran back to the doors, closing them together and locking them for safe-keeping. “Thanks,” she said, raising a hand as she ran past the man again. “Forgot.”

  The café was as crowded full of people as the bakery had been a few hours before. The dread that Holly had tried so hard to convince herself was unwarranted surged back with a vengeance. By the time she pushed her way inside, her entire body was shaking with fear.

  “Crystal. Thank goodness!” Holly moved further into the room, people standing aside to let her through. She pulled her little sister into a hug, squeezing her so tight that it was hard to breathe.

  After Crystal began to struggle free, Holly pulled back to arm’s length and stared hard at her face. “What’s going on? What’s happening?”

  Crystal tried to speak, then abandoned the effort and pointed to an overturned table, instead. Holly looked at it, shaking her head. She didn’t understand.

  “Are you Holly Waterston?” A patrolman stood in front of Holly with a notebook in one hand and a ballpoint in the other.

  Holly nodded, putting her arm around Crystal’s shoulder. “Yes.”

  “We need to examine your bakery premises. Do you have the key?”

  Again, Holly nodded, putting her hand into her pocket to pull it free. She gave it to the officer, then thought to ask, “Why? What’s happened in our bakery?”

  “I can’t answer those questions, ma’am. Do you want to escort me while we conduct our initial search?”

  “I want to stay with my sister,” Holly said. “And it would be nice if somebody could tell me what’s going on.”

  “It’s Mr. Masters,” Crystal said, regaining her voice. “He ate one of my cupcakes, then collapsed.” Beneath Holly’s arm, she could feel her sister trembling. Or was that her own shakes transferring across?

  “He’s hurt?” Holly asked, looking at the officer for confirmation.

  “He’s dead!” Crystal wailed.

  A woman with a name badge reading Alice with the café logo underneath contradicted her. “He’s not dead, Crystal.”

  With her head spinning with the attempt to catch up with everything, Holly fixed on her. The woman was young, but she had a matter-of-fact tone of voice that made Holly feel sure she’d get a straight answer.

  “What happened?”

  “Crystal had just dropped in the cupcakes for our daily delivery. We’re the last of her rounds for the day.” Alice looked at her watch. “Though this is late, even for the afternoon crowds.”

  When Holly raised her eyebrows, Alice explained, “That’s when we get most of our customers through. After the lunch crowd, we get the afternoon rush looking for a pick-me-up before they head home for the day.”

  “Why did Mr. Masters collapse?” Crystal wailed again, her shoulders shaking with violent sobs.

  Alice ignored the outburst. “He had a reaction to the cupcake he was eating. Least we think that’s what it was. One moment, he was at his usual table with his usual snack, the next he was clawing at his throat and swelling up something awful.”

  “Anaphylaxis?”

  “Yeah.” Alice nodded. “He’s allergic to peanuts. That’s why we’ve always bought our cakes from your bakery. With your dad in charge, we always knew we wouldn’t have an accident.” She looked around the room, bustling with nosy parkers and policemen. “I guess that’s at an end.”

  “Honestly, Holly.” Crystal’s tone was utterly distraught. “I’d never put anything like that in our cupcakes. There’re too many people who count on us to run a nut-free kitchen. With all that Dad taught us, I’d never take someone’s life in my hands like that.”

  “Of course, you wouldn’t,” Holly said, her voice indignant. “Just because he was eating a cupcake from our bakery doesn’t mean that it’s where the peanuts came from. It could be contamination from peanut oils, or maybe he stopped for a chocolate bar from the dairy.”

  At the emphatic statement of trust, Crystal began to calm down, her shakes settling into an occasional heave of her chest. She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, earning a glance of disgust from the officer.

  “Mind you remember to clean yourself up before you start working with food again,” he said, nodding at her hand.

  “Thanks, Officer…?” Holly raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for the name.

  “PC Dale Raggorn, ma’am.”

  “My sister and I have been working in bakeries since we’ve been eight years old. There’s no need to remind us about basic hygiene. If you want to help my sister out, finding her a tissue would do more good.”

  He colored, cheeks blushing redder than a sunset. “Sorry.” He walked away, and Holly thought she’d seen the last of him, but he returned a few moments later with a box of paper napkins. “Will these do in a pinch?”

  “They’ll do very nicely. Thank you, PC Raggorn. Are you a
ble to give us an update as to poor Mr. Masters’ condition?”

  The man shrugged. “Nothing new to report. The ambulance crew said he was alive when he left here, and nobody’s phoned to let us know any different. The journey to Christchurch is a hell of a long way, though, when you’ve got an emergency patient in the back.”

  “They’re taking him all the way to Christchurch?” Holly was astonished. It was a ninety-minute drive.

  “That’s where the closest ICU is. If anyone has a chance of fixing him up, they’ll be able to do it there.”

  “And is my sister really under suspicion?”

  The officer shrugged. “She is until we clear her.” He looked around at the assembled crowd. “Just like a lot of the folks we have in here.”

  Now that Crystal was showing signs of recovery, Holly was anxious to go back to the bakery and keep an eye on the police while they conducted their search. She may not be involved in criminal law, but her training as a lawyer had still given her a healthy skepticism regarding the police.

  “Can you stand up and walk okay?” When Crystal nodded, Holly helped her sister to her feet. The events of the day made Holly feel like she was living in a surreal movie. Even the short walk back to the bakery came with a feeling that the world was unsteady beneath her feet.

  She knocked on the door of the bakery, offering a wave to the patrolman who she’d given the keys to earlier. He nodded and came over, unlocking the door to let the sisters in.

  “We’d appreciate it if you could stay out of the way while we look through things.” He leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. “I know this search might look a little rough, but I’ll skin the hide of anyone who doesn’t put your shop back together the way they found it.”

  “Thank you,” Holly said, straining to read his badge.

  “Sergeant Matthewson,” he said. “Andrew if you meet me on the street and I’m out of uniform and Andy if I bump into you at a neighborhood barbecue.”

  Despite her tension, Holly laughed, mostly from gratitude that the sergeant was making an effort to put them at ease. Still, it was hard to look at. The very cupboards and shelves that she’d had to learn the arrangement of that morning were being rifled through by men in uniform.

 

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