The Sweet Baked Mystery Series - Books 1-6

by Katherine Hayton

  The woman stared at the cupcakes on display, then looked over the courtyard at the café. “I tried there”—the woman pointed—“but she couldn’t help me, and I’m growing desperate.”

  A tear began to trickle down the woman’s cheek, and she sniffed. When she opened her mouth to speak, a sob caught in her throat again.

  “Oh, please. Sit down. You look like you’re about to collapse!”

  Holly guided the woman to the table. At the doorway, she’d looked to be in the same age bracket as Esmerelda. When she came closer, Holly realized that the woman probably wasn’t more than a year or two older than herself.

  “I’ll fetch you a cup of coffee and a cupcake,” Meggie said. “You sit down, too. It’s only been a few days since you were in the hospital, remember?”

  “Nobody leaves me alone long enough to forget,” Holly mock-grumbled. She kept one eye fixed on the woman, hoping that their banter would put her at ease. The panic in her gaze was started to ebb away, leaving behind a face that was pallid and stunned.

  “Now. What’s your name?”

  The woman put a hand up to her throat, gently pulling at the loose skin hanging down there. “My name is Wendy Tahoe.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Wendy. I’m Holly and the woman fetching you coffee is Meggie. Can you tell me what you need help with?”

  Holly expected something drastic, life-threatening, or horrifying to come out of the woman’s mouth. Instead, Wendy swallowed hard and said, “I need a cake for my daughter’s wedding.”

  Over Wendy’s shoulder, Holly saw Meggie walking toward the table, laden with cups and cakes. Meggie crossed her eyes and Holly had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to stop from laughing. Although the matter didn’t seem important to her, it was evident by Wendy’s disarray that it meant the world to her.

  “You realize that we only do cupcakes here?” Holly said. “We wouldn’t be able to produce a tiered wedding cake. We don’t have the ovens or the baking items on hand to do that.”

  “Cupcakes should be fine,” Meggie said when Wendy looked crestfallen. “I attended a wedding a couple of years back—Allan’s girl—and they had a pile of cupcakes making up the wedding cake. It was on a great stand, and everyone got to pick the flavor that they liked.”

  She set the cups and plates down on the table. “Just a moment. I think I’ve got a photo still stored on my phone. I never bother to clean it out.”

  After a sip of her coffee, some of the color returned to Wendy’s face. Without the panic pulling it into a rictus of horror, Holly realized that the woman was attractive. The steel-gray hair pulled back into a bun made her look like a teacher or a librarian. The sort who mightn’t be above putting a naughty boy over her knee.

  “Here we go.” Meggie handed the phone over. “You can just flick it to the right to keep seeing the photographs. I took about a dozen. Either I was very impressed or the wine had gone straight to my head!”

  Wendy nodded as she flicked through the photographs. After a few minutes’ perusal, she handed it back with a smile. “How did the couple cut the cake?”

  Meggie laughed. “They had a chocolate cupcake this big”—she demonstrated with her hands—“and both of them held the knife while they cut through it. It was the most darling thing I’d ever seen.” She pulled the phone closer and flicked through the photographs. “You know, I think I took so many shots because I fancied it for my own wedding. Not that it seems I’ll strike it lucky there!”

  “Did people laugh?” Wendy asked. Her lower lip wobbled slightly until she gripped it between her teeth to still it.

  “Of course, no one laughed. Not meanly, anyway. Everyone thought it looked spectacular and it stopped all that fussing by the women about how they only wanted a small slice. Everyone got the same size piece. Perfect.” Meggie clapped her hands together.

  “And could you do something like that?” Wendy looked at Holly while pointing to the phone.

  Holly pulled the photographs close and studied them with a thoughtful frown. “The cupcakes are a given. You tell us how many you need, and we’ll be able to provide them, no problem.” She tapped on the screen, highlighting the curved stand. “I think that the hotel in town has something similar to this in their dining room.”

  Meggie leaned over to check again and nodded. “I think you’re right.”

  “I can ask the chef there if he’s happy to let us borrow it. If not, we might have to call around a few places to find something suitable.” Holly looked back at Wendy with a nod. “I’m sure that we can pull a similar look together. If your daughter is happy with that?”

  For a moment, Holly thought that Wendy was going to cry. Her shoulders shook, and she fished a worn handkerchief out of her pocket. But her eyes stayed dry. “You don’t know how much of a relief that would be,” Wendy said. “My daughter had it all lined up with a fancy shop. She’d done tastings and paid the deposit and everything. The owner called up this morning and said that they weren’t going to be able to fulfill the order. No excuse, no nothing. Just ‘We’ll refund you the money,’ and then they slammed the phone down.”

  “Goodness, what an awful way to treat a customer.” Holly’s indignation rose in sympathy. “Don’t they know that’s the kind of thing it takes months to organize?”

  “That’s what I tried to tell them,” Wendy exclaimed. “When Sheila told me what they’d told her, I called them straight back up and demanded an answer. They treated it like it was a joke. Like I was a joke.”

  “That kind of behavior is deplorable. Don’t you worry,” Holly said, “Crystal and I will get you and your daughter sorted out, as right as rain. All we’ll need is a date and the number of guests attending, and we’ll take care of the rest of it. I can’t believe that a business in this day and age would treat someone so shabbily.”

  “Do you think so?” Wendy asked, looking from Holly to Meggie for confirmation. When they both agreed, she nodded. “I thought so, too. I just wasn’t sure if that was me being silly or not. Poor Sheila was quite heartbroken. Her Derek gave up drinking for the wedding and all.”

  “Derek Masters?” Holly asked, surprised. “Your daughter is marrying Derek Masters?”

  “Why?” Wendy’s back immediately went up. “What of it? Isn’t she good enough for him or something?”

  “No,” Holly said, then backpedaled. “I mean, no, that’s not the reason. I was just surprised, that’s all. Derek seems very young.”

  “He’s the same age as my Sheila,” Wendy said. “We’re not a family that likes to wait around to get married. No use wasting the best years of your life, trying to find someone better than the ones you already love.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound judgmental.” Holly reached for her coffee, finding the cup had gone cold but swallowing it anyway. “I’m happy to make a cupcake arrangement for your daughter’s wedding, no matter who she’s marrying. Is Mr. Masters paying for the event, then?”

  “That man.” Wendy sniffed. “He’s got so much money it falls out in a trail behind him when he walks. Soon as we ask for him to contribute—just half, mind you, we weren't greedy—he turns up his nose and says that he can’t stop his son from making foolish mistakes, but that doesn’t mean he has to pay for them.”

  “Every time I hear something more about that man, I like him less,” Holly said. “I know it’s wrong to speak ill of him when he’s fighting for his life, but I’m delighted that he’s not wandering around poking his nose in our business here!”

  “Hear, hear,” Meggie said, raising her cold coffee. “To Brian Masters staying out of our business!”

  They clinked their cups together and drank, even though Holly had to make a face at the taste. “Do you want me to fetch you a fresh one?” she asked Meggie, who shook her head.

  “I should really be getting back to the salon.” She began to stand then paused, halfway out of her seat. “Say, does Sheila need someone to do her hair and makeup for the big day? I can offer my services for ha
lf-price if you’re interested. Less, if she’s got a few bridesmaids that need doing as well. I’m sure that I can sneak that one past my accountant.”

  “Are you with Humphrey?” Holly asked. When Meggie nodded and asked why, Holly shrugged. “I don’t know. Just wondering.”

  “Anyway,” Meggie said, turning back to Wendy, “I can travel out to your house on the big day. Saves you having to travel in and out of town.”

  “You know,” Wendy said as she walked out the door, arm in arm with Meggie. “My friends warned me last week to never buy anything from your bakery. I don’t know why. It’s lovely in here, and your cakes taste divine.”

  Holly still retained her stunned expression when Crystal came back from her deliveries.

  Soon, the mid-afternoon rush began in earnest and Holly didn’t have a chance to speak more than two words to Crystal until they were closing the shop.

  “Did you know that Derek is getting married?”

  Crystal raised her eyebrows in surprise, but not at the news. “How on earth did you find that out?”

  “His future mother-in-law was in here earlier, ordering a wedding cake.”

  “I hope you told her no. The money might be good for those, but there’s no way we could bake them in our ovens.”

  “I told her yes, actually. Meggie suggested that her daughter have a cupcake stack instead of one single cake and Wendy seemed pretty wrapped with the whole idea.”

  The look Crystal gave her was indecipherable, so Holly just carried on outlining the plan. “I’m going to pay a visit to the hotel and see if we can borrow their multi-level stand for the occasion.”

  “Good luck with that,” Crystal said. Her voice was snippy, but a few yards further down the street, she sighed. “I’m sorry. This whole marriage thing seems completely mad to me, but I shouldn’t take that out on you, or Wendy.”

  “I was quite surprised, too. They're both so young.”

  “I suppose that’s just a matter of perspective, though. Remember that Mom was only eighteen when Dad proposed to her.”

  Holly opened her mouth to point out how much time had elapsed since then but closed it again without saying anything. Sure, it was a generation back—two, for people Derek’s age—but that wasn’t an extended period when she thought about it. Not much longer than Holly’s life and she still felt young.

  They turned the corner into their street and Crystal faltered to a stop. Sergeant Matthewson was standing by their front gate, waiting for them. Her hand reached out for Holly’s, grasping blindly for it while her eyes stayed fixed on their unwanted visitor.

  “He might be coming about my accident,” Holly reassured her sister. There’d been little progress, though she knew that the police would be pulling out all the stops to track down the person responsible for injuring one of their own.

  As they drew closer, both sisters knew that wasn’t the case. Matthewson’s face was drawn and weary, he looked like ten years had been added to his age. Not once did his eyes move away from Crystal.

  “Miss Waterston?”

  Crystal nodded and stepped ahead of Holly. “Yes?”

  “I’m here to arrest you for the attempted murder of Brian Masters. You are not required to say anything, but anything you do say may be taken down as evidence and used against you in a court of law.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Holly stood back in shock as Sergeant Matthewson put her sister in cuffs and seated her in the back of his car.

  “You can’t be serious,” she called out when her paralysis broke. Holly stepped close to the car, tugging on Matthewson’s arm.

  His expression when he turned around was grim. There would be no more calling him Andy or light jokes to alleviate the worry. Whatever had happened to make up his mind, Matthewson believed with certainty that her sister was an attempted murderer.

  “Can I come and visit?” Holly called out as the sergeant slammed the door and started the car.

  “I can’t stop you coming down to the station,” Matthewson said. “But you’ll be in for a long wait. Crystal is not going anywhere tonight, and tomorrow she’ll be going up to Christchurch and appearing before the court.”

  Holly’s heart sank. She pressed a hand against the back door and peered in at Crystal. Her sister’s face was stunned, blank with shock. Her cuffed wrists stuck awkwardly out the side, caught behind her back.

  Before Holly could offer a word of solace, the car pulled away from the curb to make the short journey to the police station. Filled with fear, Holly immediately walked the same path by foot.

  “Wait there,” Matthewson barked when Holly came through the door. He pointed at a hard, wooden seat by the entrance. “PC Raggorn, man the desk. I’m going to process our suspect.”

  Dale offered Holly a tight smile. He looked worried also, but after a moment Holly realized that his concern was for her.

  “What happened?” she asked. “Did you get some new evidence?”

  “I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation,” Dale said, shaking his head. His eyes creased with pity. “I can say that we’re not looking for anyone else in connection with the assault on Mr. Masters.”

  “The assault?” Holly was taken aback by the wording choice. “The man ate a cupcake, that’s all.”

  “A cupcake that had been designed to kill him. Or, at the very least, cause him serious harm.”

  He disengaged from her, Dale’s focus turning solely to the computer. While he typed, his eyes danced her way, then shot right back. Holly sighed as she understood that he was deliberately avoiding talking to her.

  “What’s happening about the assault on me?” she demanded. “Surely, none of you think that Crystal had anything to do with that?”

  “We’re following up some leads,” Dale said, but wouldn’t be drawn any further. With a frustrated sigh, Holly pulled her phone out of her pocket to play a game. This would be a long wait.

  But the temptations of card games or Candy Crush couldn’t entertain her. They weren’t intriguing enough to hold her interest past the emotional turmoil running through her mind.

  After the accident, Holly hadn’t given much thought to the terrible incident with Brian Masters. With Crystal off the hook, she’d been more concerned with how to sneak out of the rest period the hospital had ordered her to take.

  Now, they were back at square one. Crystal was once again the prime suspect. Only this time, it seemed that the police weren’t interested in anybody else.

  Perhaps Holly had been fooling herself. The evidence had been pointing at her sister so clearly that they might never have entertained the thought of another culprit.

  Dale walked back to his desk. Sorry, not Dale. He’d definitely reverted to being PC Raggorn. He flicked on the computer there and the screen filled with a card game, halfway through.

  The cards.

  Holly pulled out her phone again and flipped through the photo gallery to find the pictures she’d taken of Brian Masters’ notebook. The funny scribbles that she’d deciphered into suits of cards had other symbols around them. An hour spent figuring those out would pass more quickly than matching and dispatching fruit.

  When Holly worked out the first group of symbols, she made an “Oh” sound so triumphant that PC Raggorn looked over at her from his desk. As soon as she returned his gaze, his eyes went back to his computer screen, and his fingers resumed their tap, tap, tap on the keyboard.

  To think that she’d enjoyed his company for half a day! Holly didn’t need someone of such changeable moods in her life. Thank goodness she hadn’t pursued anything further.

  Not that anything had been on offer, she conceded. At least not outside of idle thinking.

  The letters she’d decoded were in Roman numerals but pasted together with a K rather than being written out in full. So IK meant a thousand instead of using M.

  Either Mr. Masters had been trying to hide the essence of what he’d scribbled, or he had fallen asleep during that period in math class.

/>   The figures went next to the hands, four to a page. They could be wins or losses or something else entirely. Holly settled down after her small victory and studied the pictures for another pattern.

  “Mrs. Waterston?”

  Holly had become so wrapped up in her endeavor that she hadn’t noticed the sergeant coming back into the room.

  “Yes?” she said, standing.

  “You can visit Crystal now if you like. I’ll cap it at ten minutes, so if you need to ask anything important, ask it quick. Okay?”

  There wouldn’t be another option on offer, so Holly gratefully acceded. She followed Matthewson through a door out to the back. Expecting to see her sister in a room, Holly was shocked to find her locked in a cell.

  Her startled gaze prompted the sergeant to say, “Your sister is being held on suspicion of attempted murder. It’s a serious charge.”

  Holly nodded in understanding, though her heart broke to see how small and defeated Crystal looked behind bars.

  Matthewson exited the corridor, leaving Holly standing there gripping the bars.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. A foolish question. Apparently, Crystal was not.

  Slowly, her sister rose up from the rectangular seat and walked to the bars. For a few minutes, Crystal and Holly leaned their heads together and intertwined their fingers through gaps in the cold metal.

  “What am I going to do?” Crystal whispered, breaking the silence. “They’re charging me with attempted murder. If Brian Masters dies, then they’ll lock me up in prison for life.”

  “No, they won’t!” Holly banged the flat of her palm against the bars. “Someone else is responsible for this crime, and I’m going to find out who.”

  The words Holly spoke were loud and confident, while inside she was in as much despair as Crystal appeared to be. This wasn’t the time to share that emotion, though. Now, she had to stand up and be strong for the both of them.

  “Somebody told the police that I used heroin. Now they’re looking at me like I was a strung-out addict, siphoning funds away from the bakery to pay for a fix.”