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.
New litter, fresh water, and an empty food bowl later, Holly started to look through the Masters’ residence. Although her heart thumped along at a steady pace, her nerves were stretched so thin that when Mittens walked into the room after a few minutes, she jumped and gave a shriek.
“Fine spy you’d make,” Holly whispered, leaning over to give Mittens a tickle behind the ears. When the cat ran away to stretch out on the sofa instead, she continued snooping.
After an hour, Holly concluded that whatever files Mr. Masters might have had on the town must be hidden away in the safe or stored in his locked office upstairs. At least, she presumed that was behind the locked door that no key fitted. It lay opposite his bedroom. From the downstairs, Holly could guesstimate the room’s size, and it would be perfect for a man needing to spend serious time working from home.
Without a key, though, she wasn’t getting in anytime soon. On top of feeling like a sneak, she now felt foolish. Of course, a man with as many business interests as Mr. Masters wasn’t about to leave private client files out on display.
One last ditch effort took her to his bedroom door again. At that, Holly’s skin began to crawl in earnest. This was the most personal part of a man’s private home—being in there was an affront to her morality.
This is Crystal’s freedom at stake, Holly reminded herself. Still, it took another few deep breaths before she could walk through the door.
By the side table, Mr. Masters had laid down a notebook. Holly picked it up, holding the cover at the edges as she quickly flipped through.
On the pages were biro scrawls, some in words, some in drawings. Doodles were Holly’s first through, but as she paged through longer, she saw a different pattern emerge.
If she hadn’t just sat and played a card game the night before, it would have taken her longer. Thank goodness for Dale and his love of cards.
The drawings were poker plays. The hands were encrypted with different signs so that someone catching a glimpse wouldn’t know at first sight what they read. After a few repeat patterns, it was easy to pick up. Squares were spades, arrows were hearts, circles were diamonds, and rectangles were clubs.
Although Holly was reasonably sure that she’d deciphered the key, the pictures didn’t make a lot of sense to her. What use was a journal filled with different card hands? In poker, or in any card game for that matter, it wasn’t as though you could plan what you were dealt.
Still, Holly felt sure there was another layer to the scribbles. To remove the notebook from the residence would be a step too far, but she took a quick photo of each page with her phone.
If her brain was capable of sorting it out into a sensible order, then it should be able to do it from that.
Holly replaced the notebook and crossed the room to stand in front of Mr. Masters wardrobe. As she did so, shame flooded through her body like a tidal wave, washing her boldness away.
What are you doing here?
Holly staggered back from the wardrobe and sat heavily on the bed. She was a married woman and a corporate lawyer about to lose her husband and her job. Instead of sticking it out and fighting for either or both, Holly had run away, tucking her tail between her legs and scurrying home. Much as she might pretend that it was to sort thi
ngs out or make the tough decisions, deep inside Holly knew she was merely running away.
“And now you’re sneaking around somebody’s house on false pretenses. You’ve taken advantage of Derek’s trust.”
As she spoke the words aloud, Holly felt her sense of self be swept away. She wasn’t snooping around, playing detective, because Crystal’s freedom was at stake. All right, that was part of it but not all.
Mostly, Holly understood, she was here because it was easier than facing her demons. Considering that she’d just helped Derek meet his, the day before, Holly should have known better. That young man was more of an adult than she was!
Suddenly, Holly wanted to be a million miles away. She couldn’t stay in the house a moment longer. It wasn’t right. Tomorrow, she’d find someone else in town who could mind the cat. Holly had abused the trust placed in her, and she didn’t deserve a second chance.
She turned off the light switch and ran downstairs, almost falling with her eagerness to get out of the place that she’d ransacked with barely a second thought. Once the lights were out, the kitten mewed behind her. Mittens sounded so lonely that Holly turned and clicked her fingers until he came over for a pat.
“You’re a good kitty, and your owner will be home just as soon as he can,” Holly whispered as she tickled him under the chin.
Walking back across to the entranceway, a shadow in the glass on the side of the door caught her eye. With nerves and self-disgust on high alert, Holly’s heart exploded into a rapid beat and her eyes danced with stars.
Whoever was outside tried the handle. Holly stood, eyes wide with fright, trying to remember if she’d locked it behind her.
Yes. Holly remembered now. When Mittens first ran up to greet her, she’d been scared the cat would flee straight out the door. She’d pulled it closed and pressed the button on the handle to lock it.
The knob turned again, the door rattling in the frame as the person outside shook it. Holly backed away. If someone was calling by, why didn’t they knock or ring the bell?
Or had they? She hadn’t heard it, but perhaps the distance to upstairs had masked the noise.
Just say something, you idiot. They don’t know that you’ve been rifling through the house!
Holly moved closer to the door, trying to stamp her feet so the person outside would hear. “Who’s there?” she called.
The handle twisted back into place as the hand holding it outside let go. After a moment, Holly heard the crunch of gravel on the path.
She stepped forward, clicking the lock off and turning the handle in one motion. When the door swung wide, all she saw was a flash in the darkness as the unexpected visitor ran away.
Chapter Twelve
“Where have you been?” Crystal asked as Holly walked through the door for the second time that night.
“Derek asked me to feed his cat,” Holly said, holding out the key. “If you wanted to take over the duties, I’m happy to let you.”
Crystal reached out her hand, then snatched it back, a frown creasing her forehead. “I don’t think the police would like that, do you?”
“Good point,” Holly said, shaking her head. “It’s nice that one of us has their head screwed on.”
“It comes along with the rampant suspicion.”
As Crystal turned to head back into the kitchen, Holly realized that the house smelled terrific. The rich scent of roasting lamb rose through the air, dancing a tantalizing samba in her nostrils. The sharp tang of mint sauce added another dimension.
“I thought I’d cook,” Crystal said. “But I didn’t get home until late, so it will still be another hour.”
Another shot of guilt launched into Holly’s bloodstream at the misery in her sister’s voice. Should she bring up their argument, or just let sleeping dogs lie?
“I’m sorry for bringing up all those things over the phone, earlier,” she said. “I should have had the decency to explain everything face to face rather than springing it as a nasty surprise.”
Crystal nodded tiredly. The circles under her eyes were deepening with each passing minute. In the harsh light of the kitchen’s white bulbs, she looked washed out.
“It doesn’t matter how you told me, does it?” Crystal said. “What matters is that the bakery is the only thing I have to hold onto and no matter what—it’s about to be ripped away.”
Holly opened her mouth to apologize again, then snapped it shut. Nothing she could say would make it better. Unless the bakery managed a spontaneous recovery, Crystal was speaking the absolute truth.
“I’ve had so many bad weeks in my life,” Crystal said, “that it’s hard to just pick one out and say it’s the worst. Still, I think this one ranks pretty close.”
“I wish there was something I could do.”
With a shake of her head, Crystal turned away and sat down at the table. “How did the rest of your day turn out at the bakery today? If it’s going to be shut down, I hope you’re going to send it out in style.”
“Luckily, people seemed to like the pops. I don’t know what to do about my frosting skills. They seem to have vanished.”
“It takes practice,” Crystal agreed. “Lots and lots of practice.”
“Even with that,” Holly said honestly, “I don’t think I could ever get my creations to look as good as yours. Those are true works of art!”
With care, feeling their way around all the sharp edges of things they didn’t want to talk about, the sisters shared their evening. By the time Holly crawled into bed, she had dropped straight into a dreamless sleep, absolutely wrung out.
Having set her alarm one hour earlier, Holly managed to turn out some frosted cupcakes that passed muster. Even so, when it came time to open the bakery, she’d only managed to fill half the shelves.
The pigs would be going without their seconds for yet another day.
“Bravo,” Meggie said, clapping as she arrived just after nine o’clock. “They look spectacular.”
With a laugh, Holly corrected her, “They look passable. That’s the best I can hope for this morning. Tomorrow, I’ll try to get them one step better again.”
As she bid her friend goodbye, Sergeant Matthewson arrived outside Alice’s café. Meggie paused at the doorway for a second as they watched him walk inside. Holly caught a glimpse of Alice’s frightened face before she and Matthewson walked away from the windows and out of sight.
“Poor thing,” Holly said. “I can’t imagine this has been any easier for her than it’s been for Crystal.”
“Nope. I think that the police will be making the rounds of all of us, soon enough. They officially requested Ben’s CCTV of the courtyard late yesterday.”
At Holly’s raised eyebrows, Meggie chortled. “What? You didn’t think we had such modern things out here?”
Holly scrunched up her nose and gave a nod. “Guilty as charged.” She stepped back inside the bakery, glancing up at the corners, causing Meggie to burst into laughter.
“No, lovey. You don’t have it in your shop!”
“More’s the pity. It would have been nice to just be able to hand over the footage and clear Crystal’s name.”
“It sure would. If we were around the corner a little bit, you’d be covered by the supermarket opposite. Here, though?” Meggie shrugged. “The courtyard’s the best we can do.”
That night when Holly arrived home, it was once again to a delicious home-cooked meal. As Crystal served up the steamed salmon and green beans, Holly’s mouth watered so much that she felt in danger of drooling.
“I feel like a man in the fifties,” she said with a smile, “working hard all day to come home to a delicious meal and a loving wife.”
“Keep your hands off my goodies,” Crystal warned. “When it comes to you, I’ve got a permanent headache!”
Holly pushed Crystal out of the kitchen afterward, insisting that she had to wash up. It was only fair.
When she plonked down onto the sofa later, Crystal was staring into space wi
th a concerned frown on her face.
“What is it?”
Crystal sighed. “I’m worried about the bakery. There’s stuff that I don’t know if I should trouble you with or not.”
“Trouble away,” Holly said. “If you think there’s a chance we can do something to save it, I’m all ears.”
But Crystal shook her head. “I’m not sure. I want to have a clearer idea before I run my mouth off. Let me think on it again tomorrow, and then we can have a proper chat.”
Holly opened her mouth to push Crystal, then closed it. If her sister needed time to think, she owed her that much. “While you’re pondering these deep thoughts,” she said, leaning over her for the remote, “let me introduce you to the wonder that is The Bachelorette!”
It turned out that Crystal had already been introduced and found the program quite to her taste. Together they sat, side by side, watching a woman select a potential partner from the variety of tall, dark, and handsome on offer.
“I wish somebody would organize that for me,” Crystal said. “I haven’t even been on a date for the last four years.” She frowned down at her hand, counting on her fingers. “Make that five.”
“Well, maybe we can sort out a double date since I’m about to be back on the market. Are there any eligible bachelors in town?”
To Holly’s surprise, Crystal cocked an amused eyebrow in her direction. “Dale Raggorn seemed pretty taken with you, from what I could see. I’d say he’s bachelor number one.”
Holly smiled. “If I didn’t mind robbing the cradle, I might let myself be tempted.”
Crystal once again surprised her by bursting into laughter. “How young did you think Dale was?”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve got at least a decade on him,” Holly said, lolling back against her sofa arm. “Why?”
“He’s a year older than me,” Crystal said. “Which shrinks that decade down to one year, if I’m not mistaken.”
The Sweet Baked Mystery Series - Books 1-6 Page 8
