“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 able 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.
“Did you get all of your deliveries done?” Holly asked.
Crystal nodded, her face still blank with shock. “I got caught up near Henderson’s farm. They were driving their sheep across the road, and it took forever to clear them. Then the drover wanted to have a natter. From the way he talked, I don’t think he’d seen a human being for a good long while.”
She sighed and then winced at the coffee machine banged down after someone lifted it up to check underneath. Holly reached her hand across the table again to give Crystal’s forearm a squeeze.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure the police’ll finish up soon, and then we can head on home.” Holly looked over at the café where poor Alice must be feeling even more of a strain. Her shop was still full of people, although it appeared PC Raggorn was now trying to shoo the multitude away.
“I certainly hope so.” Crystal stood up and began to pace the length of the shop, working off her nervous energy. “It was so awful, Holly. I don’t ever think I’ve seen a person in that much distress.”
“I’m so sorry you had to see that,” Holly said, jumping to her feet and running to hug her sister. “Once we’re home, we can sit in and have a nice long chat.”
Sergeant Matthewson cleared his throat behind her. Holly turned, sensing a change in his demeanor even before she saw his face.
In his hand, there was a plastic evidence baggie, inside which lay an empty packet of peanuts. Holly blanched. The logo on the label was the same as the ones Crystal said she’d donate the night before.
“I’m sorry to say that you won’t be going home just yet, Miss Waterston. You’re now a suspect in an attempted murder inquiry. We’ll need to officially question you, down at the station.”
Chapter Seven
“Holly?” Crystal’s voice was high, her face stunned. “What do they think I did?”
“My sister didn’t do anything,” Holly said, stamping her foot. “You can’t drag her down to the police station because of a packet found in the rubbish!”
“We can, and we are.”
Sergeant Matthewson’s mellow tone was still there, but it was backed with steel now. Holly understood in an instant that he would not be budged.
“Holly?”
Holly put her hands on Crystal’s shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Don’t worry. The police just want you to answer a few questions. If you don’t know the answer to something, or you’re confused, don’t guess. Ask them to repeat it until you do understand, or say ‘No comment.’ Do you hear me?”
Crystal nodded.
“Now, take a deep breath. It looks like we’ll all have a rough couple of days in front of us, but everything will be all right. Mr. Masters will get the medical care he needs, the police will work out the culprit, and you’ll be back home before you know it. Okay?”
This time, some color washed back into Crystal’s face and her nod was firmer. “I understand.”
Still keeping contact with her sister, Holly looked over her shoulder at the Sergeant. “Is it okay if I come down to the station to be with her?”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t recommend it. We’ll be a few hours minimum, and the w
aiting area’s not the comfiest. You could stay at home, we’ll call when we’re ready to release your sister, either way.”
“Are you arresting me?” Crystal turned her watering blue eyes on the Sergeant.
Holly answered, “No, he’s not. They just want to ask you some questions, and when that’s over, you’ll come home.”
She looked back at the officer. “I’ll wait. I’m sure I can handle whatever discomfort your waiting room has to throw at me.”
As Crystal was escorted away, Holly called after her. “I’ll just lock up here, then I’ll be down at the station with you. Stay strong, okay?”
Crystal nodded, then a look of panic flashed across her face. “Can you check in on Derek first? He’ll be devastated. Someone needs to look out for him.”
“Of course,” Holly said, before checking with the Sergeant. “Is that okay?”
He nodded and walked Crystal out the door, her head hanging. Given how emotionally exhausted Holly felt after the events, she could only imagine that Crystal felt ten times as drained.
Turning back to the shop, Holly waited until the last PC had exited and then secured the lock. “We may need to come back here and take another look,” PC Raggorn warned her. He ran a roll of police tape over the entrance doors, the bright yellow warning sticking to the glass.
“If you come in tomorrow morning to see this tape’s still here, then you need to turn around and go back home.”
“Won’t they let me know that down at the station?”
The PC shrugged, walking with Holly to the side of the road where his patrol car was parked. Judging by the vast angle between the curb and his wheels, he’d pulled up suddenly. “Depends on when the decision is made and whether you’re still there.”
“I’m not leaving until my sister is released into my care,” Holly stated.
The PC opened the car door, then turned to her. “This is a serious business. If your sister added those peanuts to the cupcake knowing that Mr. Masters was allergic, then you might not be living with her for quite some time.”
“Crystal didn’t do it,” Holly said. “I’m sure that you’ll work that out quickly and she can come back home.”
As the policeman got into his car and pulled away, a nagging voice spoke up in Holly’s ear for the first time. But what if she did?
Holly clamped down on it, feeling a sense of self-disgust. Crystal would never do something like that. She was flighty and occasionally unstable, but there was no way she was a cold-blooded murderer.
Following her sister’s plea, Holly walked to Derek Masters house. It took longer because she had to go home first and look in the phone book to find out where he lived.
The property was set back with a long driveway curving through a bank of established trees. In the late summer light, their leaves looked almost as decorative as they would in the following season. The air was filled with hues of pink, red, and gold.
At first, there was no answer to Holly’s knock. On the second try, she heard a faint, “Go away,” from inside.
Walking around the outside of the house, Holly stopped to peer into windows until she found him. Derek was sitting in a lounge room, staring at a set of cabinets mounted on the wall.
When she knocked on the window, Derek jumped. It took him a while to work out where the sound came from. When he saw Holly, standing by the window, feet planted in their flowerbeds, he came storming across and threw the window open.
“I said to go away,” he shouted. For a moment, he could have been his father the night before, steam pouring out of his ears.
“Crystal wanted me to check up on you.”
“She killed my dad!”
Holly’s mouth dropped open. “He’s dead?”
“Fine. Crystal ‘tried’ to kill my dad, is that better?”
“Derek, I know how upsetting this must be for you. Can you open up the door and let me in so we can talk?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said. “Your family doesn’t seem to gel with mine.”
“Is your mother home?”
At that, Derek’s face crumpled into lines of sadness. “My mother’s dead.”
Before Holly could open her mouth to apologize, he twisted into a sullen teenager. “Thanks for reminding me,” he said, pulling the window closed.
On instinct, Holly shoved her hand into the narrowing gap. Either Derek didn’t notice or didn’t care, and the aluminum frame bit into her hand.
“Ow!”
From the expression of horror on his face, Holly realized he hadn’t seen her. She pulled her hand free, cradling it close to her chest. The force of the window closing had ground the bones of her fingers together, and the flesh along the back was already swelling.
“Oh, jeez. Sorry.” Derek pointed back to the front door. “Come in. I’ll fetch some ice.”
When Holly walked inside, he scurried up to her, worrying around her like a small dog. “I’m so sorry,” he kept saying as they walked into the lounge. “I didn’t see you there.”
“It’s my own fault,” Holly said, taking a seat. “I’m the one who put my hand there.”
Derek handed her a tray of ice cubes and even through the pain, Holly laughed. “Do you have a damp cloth I can wrap these in?”
When Derek’s face froze at the query, she specified, “Could you fetch me a tea towel and run it under the tap?”
Derek scampered into the kitchen to follow her instructions and returned a moment later with a sodden towel. The carpet wouldn’t thank him, but Holly was grateful as she applied her makeshift ice pack to her swollen skin.
“Is it broken?”
“I don’t think so,” Holly said. She wiggled her fingers. “If the bones were busted, I imagine doing that would hurt a thousand times worse than it does.”
After a few rounds of Derek apologizing and Holly explaining it was her own fault, she nodded at the cabinet on the wall. “What’s in there?”
Derek’s face turned to thunderclouds. “That’s my dad’s alcohol cabinet.”
No wonder he’d been staring at it with such intensity. Holly leaned forward. “Is this the first time you’ve had to deal with something big without alcohol?”
Derek looked down at the floor for a moment, then nodded his head.
“It’ll be hard, but it’s worth it.” Holly nodded at the cabinet. “That might take away the pain for a few hours, but it’ll be waiting for you again in the morning. It hurts more to face your feelings sober, but you come to grips with them a lot quicker.”
Derek sat on the couch, his shoulders shuddering as he began to shake and cry. “I want a drink, so much.”
Holly looked at the cabinet again. No lock. What kind of support was that from a father to a son newly in recovery?
“Is there alcohol anywhere else in the house?”
Derek shook his head. “That’s it.”
Holly nodded and made a decision. She didn’t know the ins and outs of a twelve-step program but removing immediate temptation when you were in difficulties made sense to her.
“Why don’t you go upstairs for a few minutes?”
The look of gratitude that Derek offered her was tinged with regret. “Will you be okay?” He nodded at her hand.
“I’m just going to unscrew a few bottles and pour them down the sink,” she said. “I’m sure a bruised hand won’t be too much of a handicap to overcome.”
With his hand on the door, Derek apparently made a different decision. He turned back to her. “I asked dad if he could get rid of it, the bottles when I came back from three days of supervised detox. He said that if he took them away, I wouldn’t be living in the real world. ‘You can buy alcohol anywhere,’ he said.”
“Yeah,” Holly agreed. “But the harder you make that, the more likely your learnings will kick in to stop you.”
Derek nodded. “If you tip them out, Dad will just come after you for a refund.”
Holly’s eye’s widened and then she burst out laughing
. “I’m sure I can afford to replace his drink’s cabinet. I’m not that hard up!”
This time, Derek’s face changed into a look of confusion. “Are you sure? From Dad’s reckoning the bakery is operating at such a loss that even if it got a good price at sale, you’d still have to cash in your house to cover it.”
Fury rose up in Holly’s body, immediately outweighing the pain in her hand. How dare that man talk about their business with his son?
“I have money quite separate from the bakery, thank you very much.”
Derek caught her indignation, his eyes widening. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
His voice trailed off as if the myriad of things he hadn’t meant overwhelmed him with the choice.
“It’s okay,” Holly said, calming down. “I’m just surprised that your dad would talk about such things with you.”
Derek shrugged. “He likes to talk about work a lot, and there’s no one else in town who likes to listen. When you own a piece of everything, no one wants to hear how you diddled their neighbor out of a fair price or brought their heritage home for a fraction of its true value.”
At the words, Holly felt pity flood her heart. What must it have been like for Derek to hear his friends and neighbors being ridiculed for being less smart than his dad? “You go on upstairs,” she said. “Let me take care of this for you.”
“No.” Derek walked over to the cabinet, opened it, and pulled out two bottles. “I’m going to do this. My addiction can go take a flying leap off a cliff for the day.”
“Are you going to visit your dad?” Holly asked once the deed was done. “Or aren’t they allowing visitors at this stage?”
“I guess they are.”
Derek sat and stared at his twiddling thumbs. Not wanting to press him, Holly looked down at her own hand. The swelling had reduced thanks to the ice pack. Still, tomorrow she’d have one hell of a bruise.
“I don’t want to go up there on my own.” Derek’s knee started bobbing, beating to its own internal tune. “There’s no one that I know in the city, and I wouldn’t have anywhere to stay.”
The Sweet Baked Mystery Series - Books 1-6 Page 5
