“No! Don’t you dare refuse my compliment when I’ve been good enough to pay it to you.” Meggie wagged her finger as she lightly scolded Holly. “If you can’t take pleasantries, then your life will be very arid, indeed. Now repeat after me: These are the best cakes that Meggie Falcon has ever tasted.”
Despite her blush intensifying until her face was in danger of catching fire, Holly obeyed and recited the phrase. Her tight chest loosened with every word.
“Not that it will matter if I can’t learn to decorate them.” Holly picked up a bowl with congealing ganache failure number three and screwed up her nose.
“Give that here.”
Holly handed it over, wondering if Meggie was about to say something sweet about the disaster. She tensed, rising on her toes. If the hairdresser gave her more praise for that, it would ultimately negate the first.
But even Meggie eyed the mixture inside the bowl warily. “I don’t know how you managed to mess up cream and chocolate, but you did.”
Her expression turned thoughtful, and Meggie pointed to the cakes. “What do I need to be wearing if I’m handling these for later sale?”
“An apron, gloves, and a hairnet,” Holly recited on automatic pilot. “And a strong constitution,” she added, surveying the mess again.
“You’ll have to do it then since you’re already kitted up.” Meggie patted her hair. “There’s no way I can tuck this grand style into a net. My customers would take one look at me and hightail it out the door!”
After laughing again, Holly took the bowl from Meggie’s hands. “What instructions am I following?”
“Put those”—Meggie pointed to the crumbled array of cakes—“into that.” She pointed at the bowl. “There’s no way we can salvage this mess into cupcakes. What we can do is run a special on cake pops.”
“That’s brilliant!”
Holly mixed the cakes and ganache together. The split topping ceased to matter once it was overwhelmed with crumbs. Halfway through the endeavor, Meggie looked down at her watch and gave a start.
“Goodness! I have an appointment in ten minutes, and I need to get everything ready. You’ve got everything in hand here, now. Don’t you?”
“I certainly do, thanks to you.” Holly escorted her new friend out into the shop just as a new customer entered. Esmerelda. Even though Holly now knew the hunching over the cane was an act, she still felt sorry for the wizened old woman.
“I don’t have anything fresh at the moment,” she said, while Meggie eyed Esmerelda with a strange look that Holly couldn’t place. “We’ll have something by mid-morning.”
“I didn’t come here for cakes. I came to give you this back.” Esmerelda slammed the old book down on the counter. “This isn’t what I asked for. Not at all.”
Holly walked behind the counter, picking the book up. “It was the one you pointed to,” she said with equanimity. “There’s no need to be angry.”
She picked up the old notebook and flicked through the pages, seeing the mistake at once. This was a ledger, each page crammed with calculations in tiny writing. Nothing to do with recipes at all.
“What book was it that you’re looking for?” Meggie asked, one hand gripping the door and holding it open. “Would it be the recipes that Mr. Waterston spent his life developing and perfecting and that you have no right to ask for?”
“This is nothing to do with you.” Esmerelda stepped over to Holly, pointing a scrawny finger at her chest. “You mind your own business. The grapevine tells me that if you don’t, it’ll soon be reclaimed by Mr. Masters. Since he’s wound up in hospital, I might suggest to the police that they take a closer interest in you!”
Chapter Ten
Meggie’s kind face twisted into fury. “Don’t tell me about business, you old coot. Not when you’re standing in this bakery trying to steal something that will never belong to you. Get out.”
She pointed outside, her hand trembling with rage. Esmerelda backed up a step, looking toward the counter and Holly. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Your dad promised me that I could have his recipe book when he died.”
“If that were true,” Meggie said in a quiet voice. “Then Crystal would have passed it to you after the lawyer settled the will. She didn’t because you have no entitlement to it at all. Now get out and leave this poor woman alone. Holly’s had enough trouble without more from the likes of you!”
Esmerelda shuffled out the door, moving as slowly as possible as though she knew that Meggie was running late.
“You want to watch that one,” Meggie said, shutting the door when the old woman had finally gone. “She’s constantly in here, trying to sneak stuff that she shouldn’t.”
“I didn’t know that Dad’s recipes were worth anything, except to us,” Holly admitted. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll be on the lookout from now on.”
Meggie got halfway out the door then turned back with an eyebrow raised. “Welcome to Hanmer Springs. Hot pools, attempted murder, and old witches!”
She mimicked Esmerelda’s overacting and hobbled out the door on a wave of Holly’s laughter.
Holly phoned home just before the mid-morning rush. Both to ask her sister to ring the suppliers and see if they’d mind taking a delivery of cake-pops rather than cupcakes and to check on how she was doing.
How Crystal was doing was not very well at all.
“I keep thinking of poor Derek. How awful to be sitting in Christchurch with his dad in ICU and no one close around to talk to.”
“I’m sure that being close to his father during this time will be a lot more healing for him than if Derek was sitting at home. Simon will look out for him. Whatever the state of our relationship, he’s got good instincts for when to step in and when to leave somebody alone.”
“I suppose being around a man during this time might be helpful,” Crystal said. “It can’t hurt him to be exposed to a different behavior set than his dad.”
She paused for a long time after that statement, before bursting out, “I can’t believe I just said something so horrible about a man who’s nearly dead!”
The anguish in Crystal’s voice was so intense that Holly wished that the sergeant had been in the room to hear it. No one listening to that emotion could think that her sister was responsible for Mr. Masters’ terrible fate.
“Don’t dwell on things,” Holly suggested. “Why don’t you go out and do something fun for the day? Treat it as a holiday.”
“The only fun I need is baking.” Crystal paused and then admitted, “Okay. That did sound a little sad. I could go on a short hike, I suppose. Despite living right by the forest, I never seem to venture into it anymore.”
“That sounds great,” Holly said. “If you stop by the bakery and wave, I’ll bring you out a cake pop as a treat.”
“Ugh. Cake.”
For some reason, this struck Holly as absolutely hilarious. For a full minute, she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. When she regained control, Holly asked, “Do you know an old lady called Esmerelda?”
“Don’t you let her in the store!” The fright in Crystal’s voice was alarming. A second later, she continued on, calmer, “Sorry. That sounded like she was a mass murderer or something. The lady is always trying to get hold of Dad’s recipe book. Once, she tucked it under her jumper and tried to walk straight out of the store!”
“I almost gave it to her,” Holly admitted, feeling foolish. “She asked for it, and I didn’t even think to check with you.”
“What do you mean almost?” The alarm was back in Crystal’s voice.
“I handed over a ledger of accounts or something instead. Really old-school. Dad must have been keeping it.”
“He always liked to keep his own records,” Crystal said. There was a strange tone to her voice that Holly couldn’t decipher. “I’ve been trying to keep it up, too. Even though Humphrey does our official accounts.”
“I haven’t met Humphrey. I’ll need to see him soon.” As soon as the
words were out of Holly’s mouth, she wished to take them back. Instead, she pressed her lips together, hoping that Crystal wouldn’t think anything of it.
Her sister was smarter than that.
“Why do you need to see Humphrey?” An edge was in her voice, so sharp it could cut if Holly wasn’t careful. “The bakery is my business, not yours. You have the house, I have the bakery. That was dad’s will.”
Should she come clean now? Holly couldn’t see a way out of it. Stupid foot. Why did it have to insert itself into her mouth now when there were so many other worrying things going on?
“The lawyer contacted me and sent the bakery accounts down. I do have a small share—ten percent—just like you have in the house.”
“Why did he send them to you?” Crystal demanded. “I’m right here in town. That feels a lot like he went behind my back.”
“He did.” Holly sighed. “Gregory Collins said he’d tried to talk to you but hadn’t gotten very far. He was worried that the house would be eaten up by the outstanding bills owed by the bakery. As he explained it, his wish was to avoid that coming at me straight out of the blue.”
“He had no right! I’m sorting it.”
The wounded tone of Crystal’s voice poured guilt into Holly’s listening ears. If only she weren’t such a coward! They could have discussed the matter face to face when Holly arrived, instead of over the phone.
“I’m sure you are, but he wanted me to know.”
“Is that why you came down here?” Crystal sobbed. “Not because you wanted to visit me and see that I’m all right but because you were scared that I’d mismanage you out of a house?”
“It’s not like that…”
But Holly was listening to a dial tone. Crystal had hung up the phone.
Although Holly wanted to run to her sister and explain, the mid-morning crush of customers began to flood through the door as soon as she replaced the receiver on the phone. Unless she wanted to throw the rewards for her effort that morning away, then Holly had to stay and serve. After that, there would be deliveries then the afternoon crowd.
Although she felt frantic that Crystal was alone and dealing with yet another blow, Holly had to get through the day.
Crystal had been on top of things enough to contact the suppliers. Leaving the shop to Ben next door, Holly drove out on the route that Crystal had mapped for her the night before. At the first entry, she expected surprise at what she had to offer. Instead, Holly was greeted with cheerful acceptance.
“We weren’t certain at first,” Mr. Wallis said. He ran the kitchen for the nicest hotel in town. A compliment to the bakery that their goods were the best on offer. “But then I chatted with the waitress, and she said it would be charming and retro.”
Retro. Holly realized that she was so old that cake pops had gone from a brand-new craze, to outdated, then all the way back around to be rediscovered again. When did the world start to move so fast?
She clamped her lips together as Holly realized that the thought just showed her age again.
Without the gift for patter that Crystal possessed, Holly was done with the delivery route in twenty minutes. As she brought the empty trays into the back of the bakery, it occurred to her that Crystal should have easily been back the day before well before the time she’d actually arrived.
What had Crystal been doing?
Surely, even a drover with the slowest sheep in the world wouldn’t cause a delay as long as that one.
Not a question that Holly would be putting to her sister anytime soon. Not with the blow she’d just delivered.
When Meggie came into the shop in the afternoon, Holly felt like collapsing into her arms and crying. Although the customer’s faces were friendly enough, someone to talk to who would listen was a special treat.
“I’ll fetch a coffee if you’ve got time?” Holly asked. Her chest filled with the warmth of gratitude when Meggie smiled and said she did.
“You look like you’re having a worse day than you were this morning,” she said, taking a seat at the table. “What on earth has happened?”
Holly pursed her lips up, hesitant to spill the details of the shop’s private finances, even to a friend. Then she remembered Esmerelda’s tirade that morning. From what the old lady said, it seemed that Meggie’s business was stuck in the very same boat.
“The bakery hasn’t been doing well lately.”
“Nonsense.” Meggie stated the word so firmly that Holly began to doubt herself. “I’ve seen the steady stream of traffic and repeat customers this place gets. I’m green with envy. No way are you in financial trouble.”
“We are.” Holly sat down at the table with coffee for each of them. The fortification was well overdue, and she sipped hers eagerly, burning her upper lip in her haste.
“Careful,” Meggie warned too late, then shook her head. “I can’t believe it. Five years ago, every business around this place was booming, and none of us had anything like the visitors that we have now. How can everybody be struggling when our customer numbers keep going up?”
“I guess the overheads have gone up with them,” Holly said. “I’ve gone over the numbers again and again.”
“Lucky that you’re able to.” Meggie put her coffee down and looked ashamed. “I’ve never been able to get my head around the math involved.”
Holly shook her head. “It’s not my forte, either. When I got stuck, I asked a colleague in our accounting department to double check. We both arrived at the same result.”
Holly stared out of the window. It had been easy to stay emotionally distant back in Christchurch. Now that she was here, sitting in the bakery, it was another matter altogether.
“My family has operated a bakery in Hanmer Springs for the four generations.” Holly looked down at her hands, curled in her lap. “I can’t believe that we’ll be the last.”
“Do you have children?” Meggie asked.
Holly looked up, eyebrows raised in surprise. “No.” She shook her head. “There was just never enough time with me and my husband’s career to pause for long enough to try.”
“And Crystal doesn’t, either.”
Again, Holly shook her head.
“Well, I hate to break it to you, love, but unless one of you gets a move on sharpish, one of you was bound to be the last, anyway.” Meggie gave a wink. “That’s the bright side for you!”
The inappropriateness of the comment struck Holly’s funny bone. It flooded her with a rush of good feelings, so she felt brave enough to ask Meggie a question.
“Is your business in serious trouble?”
The smile wiped off the hairdresser’s face. “It’s bad. Unless I can turn things around this month, I’ll be out of here.” Meggie paused, her throat working as though she was fighting to suppress tears. “I’m only a first-generation shop owner, of course,” she said with a forced smile. “But I poured my life into that place. I don’t know what I’m going to do, once it’s gone.”
Holly placed a hand on top of Meggie’s, and for a few minutes, they sipped from their cups in silence. The pick-me-up had turned into more of a drag-me-down, but Holly felt better for having shared her troubles and hope Meggie felt the same.
“You know what’s really bad?” Meggie said as they rose to wash out their cups. “When I heard that Mr. Masters had collapsed, my first thought wasn’t concern for him. Instead, I wondered whether—if he died—that would earn my business a reprieve.” She shook her head. “I’m an awful person.”
“You’re not awful!” Holly grabbed hold of Meggie’s shoulders and shook her. “You’re the nicest woman I’ve ever met. So, what if you thought that? Unless you tried to kill him, then you’re off the hook.”
Meggie nodded and smiled, but she didn’t look convinced. “I’m sure there’s a list of business out to your elbow, who’ll be crowding up the police’s suspect list.”
“None of them bakeries, though,” Holly said. “I know that Crystal didn’t do it, but I can’t work out
how someone could have exchanged another cupcake for one of hers.”
Meggie looked thoughtful. “I don’t know about that, but certainly the whole town knew that he ate the same thing in that café every afternoon. If somebody wanted to kill him and divert the blame elsewhere, switching out the cupcake makes a lot of sense.”
Holly sat down by the stove, thinking hard. “Who else would have the opportunity?”
Meggie leaned back against the bench. “Well, Alice would be number one. Not only is her shop in debt but it’s the only asset she owns. Even if she sells, the poor woman will be paying off the loss for years, maybe decades.”
“I wonder if the police have thought of that?”
Meggie snorted. “They may look smarter up in the big smoke of Christchurch, but I can tell you right now, Matthewson’s got a lot going on upstairs.” She tapped the side of her head. “If there’s a thought to be thunk in this case, he’ll be on top of it.”
“Are you sure?” Holly wrung her hands together. “I feel like I should go and tell him, just in case he’s missing something.”
“Or, you could plan out the treats you’re going to have on hand tomorrow,” Meggie said. “And let the professionals do their job.”
Meggie’s advice was good, but when Holly let herself into the house that night to find Crystal gone, she ignored it. Sick with worry over her sister, undoubtedly her energy was better directed toward finding the real culprit, rather than wallowing at home?
First stop—Mr. Masters’ house. There was a cat who needed some attention. If Holly wandered around the house and found something she shouldn’t be nosing into, then that was somebody else’s lookout!
Chapter Eleven
Mittens was ecstatic to see Holly. The small cat ran in a figure-eight around her legs, almost tripping her. While trying not to tangle herself up in furry animal, Holly managed to put the single-serve dinner into a bowl. Once that was down, the cat immediately lost interest in her, leaving Holly able to refill the water bowl in peace before taking the litter tray out to the garden trash to empty.
Cupcakes and Conspiracies Page 7
