Marshall came to a stop, reaching out a hand to squeeze Holly’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I knew a very different version of Mr. Willoughby. I don’t understand why this service is so intent on causing everyone pain.”
“What is it?” Amber called out again. When no one answered her, she walked closer, snatching the letter from Marshall’s hand.
“I wanted you to be here at my final farewell on earth as my family find out whether or not I’m their father. The reason, if you hadn’t already guessed, is that if I’m not, then say hello to your new brother or sister. I hope your dad rots in hell.”
Chapter Nine
“I don’t understand,” Amber said with a frown. “Who’s your brother and sister?”
Marshall snatched the letter back out of her hands. “It means that Holly’s father was the man who had the affair with Rebecca.”
When Amber continued to stare, still not comprehending, Holly whispered, “That means Samuel is my half-brother.”
“Oh, well.” Amber took a step back and shrugged. “At least your dad was having an affair after your mother died. It’s a pity that Mom didn’t extend the same consideration to her family.”
“Amber!” Sophie’s shocked voice came tumbling down the aisle.
“What?” Amber said, turning around. “It’s true.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s something you should say,” Sophie insisted. “If it’s judged by meanness, then you really are your father’s daughter.”
“I’ve certainly got the paternity test to prove it,” Amber said, waving the slip of paper.
While Holly recoiled in horror, Amber tapped Marshall on the shoulder, “Do you know how much money that means I’ve got in the bag? Close to forty million at last count, wasn’t it?”
Holly closed her eyes, still grappling with what the piece of paper had said. What was their age difference? Samuel—her brother Samuel—must be in his mid-twenties. Since Holly’s mother had died when she was in her early teens, the timing seemed about right.
I have a brother?
Why hadn’t Crystal been invited along to this horror show? It was a terrible thought, Holly wouldn’t wish this disaster upon anyone, but she still wished that she had her sister there. She wanted someone close to her, someone she loved to talk it over with. Instead…
Holly opened her eyes and surveyed the dismal populace in the room.
“I’m afraid that the estate has significantly reduced due to Mr. Willoughby’s recent run of philanthropy,” Marshall said. “As Sophie will be able to testify, he made it a mission in the last few years to donate a substantial portion of his estate to worthy causes.”
Amber frowned at the news. “Fair enough. I know that came about because he was chasing a knighthood, wasn’t he?”
When Sophie bowed her head, refusing to engage, and Marshall turned aside, Amber repeated her earlier question.
“So how much of a dent did he make in it? Is he down to thirty? Twenty? What?”
Marshall cleared his throat and moved back to the pulpit, rustling the papers there again. “Your father’s estate, less the bequest already granted to Sophie and Matthew, was worth seven hundred thousand dollars at his death.”
Amber stared at him, shaking her head and laughing. “What? No, that can’t be right. How much?”
Marshall cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “Seven hundred thousand. Give or take a few thousand for funeral expenses.”
“But that’s…” Amber stared at Marshall in horror, her throat continuing to work up and down but with no sounds emerging.
“Steven was very determined to give the bulk of his fortune to people who had showed they had the drive to really make a difference.” Sophie walked toward Amber, then skirted around her to continue down the aisle. Matthew happily skipped along by her side.
“Anybody could use that amount of money and make a difference,” Amber snarled. “It doesn’t take drive, it just takes financing. How on earth could you let him squander our inheritance on someone else’s harebrained schemes?”
At that, Sophie threw back her head and laughed, seeming to genuinely enjoy the statement. “As if I could ever stop Steven doing something that he wanted to. It’s only been a few days, my dear, but I think you’ve completely forgotten the essence of your dad.”
While Sophie walked out of the room, Holly took the opportunity to get to her feet again also. She tucked the letter back into the envelope and then folded it in half again.
“What happens now?” she called out to Marshall. Amber turned around also, her face still reeling from the previous admissions.
“Once I settle things with the hotel and pack up everything, then I’m heading back into town.” Marshall put his hands on his hips and stared down at the floor. “You’re welcome to catch a lift back with me, if you want it.”
“That would be great,” Holly said. “What needs packing up?”
While Amber walked out of the room, silent and pale, Marshall pointed out the video equipment. “If you can unplug that end, I’ll wrap it back up and put it back in the box.”
“What do we do about—” Holly cut herself off, unsure what the politest word was. She waved at the casket, still tipped over on its side.
“I might get some of the hotel staff to help out with that,” Marshall mused.
“Surely, it’s not that heavy.” Holly walked over and tipped it over, so its base sat flat on the floor. Once the lid was closed, she turned the fasteners, so it wouldn’t fall open again by mistake. “If you grab that end, I can lift it back onto the trestle.”
Marshall shook his head. “There isn’t much point. Just leave it there and I’ll organize the funeral home that brought it up here to take it away again.”
“I suppose that’s an easy job for them,” Holly mused, “compared to their usual line of work.”
Marshall gave a short laugh, without much amusement. “I certainly got some strange glances when I detailed my request. Who’d have thought that an occasion would be weirder when a dead body wasn’t present?”
The drive back to town passed without incident and Holly waved goodbye with a sigh of relief as Marshall steered the van away from the bakery.
Strangest day ever.
With a toss of her head, Holly turned and walked into the bakery, disconcerted to find herself at a standstill as soon as she walked through the door. A crush of people filled up the shop, waiting patiently in line, so quiet that it was eerie.
“Excuse me,” Holly said, slipping in between the two customers nearest the door.
It soon became apparent that she’d chosen the wrong path as over and over, Holly tapped on someone’s shoulder and asked them to let her through. If she’d been thinking straight, then she should’ve backed out of the shop and headed around to the rear entrance. Unfortunately, the day was such that it obliterated any chance of thinking straight.
“Holly!” Crystal said with a cry of relief when she staggered close to the counter. “Thank goodness you’re back. As you can see, we’ve had a tiny surge in popularity.”
Finally, clearing one final customer, Holly was close enough to slip behind the counter and view the shop from the vantage point of being safely behind a bench.
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Holly said, pulling an apron on and taking an order from the next person in line. “I stayed for the ceremony and then caught a ride home with Marshall.”
“You weren’t to know,” Crystal said. “And it’s better to come back to a packed shop than an empty one.”
“That’s the truth.”
They served the customers side by side until the crush of people finally subsided. There was almost nothing left behind the display case when they were done, except for a misshaped cake that looked like it had done a swan dive onto its head.
“It never rains but it pours,” Holly said, going out into the bakery to wash her hands. Even using tongs to serve up the cupcakes, she always felt sticky after too long behind the c
ounter.
“How was the funeral, then?” Crystal said, joining her sister out the back. “Did you find out why he specifically asked for you or dad?”
“Mm-hmm,” Holly said, noncommittally. “I’ll tell you about it at home tonight. After a long shower to get rid of this day.”
“Not too long,” Crystal warned. “We’ll need to get a whole lot done tonight in case there’s another rush on the store. If we don’t bake a few trays tonight, then there’ll be nothing for the early arrivals but an empty wrapper.”
“Did you get the deliveries out okay?”
“Ben next door took them, thank goodness. I’d usually get him to cover the shop, but I think he would have died under the onslaught.”
While Crystal went home to plan out the next days’ worth of baking, Holly walked back through to the shop, turning the open sign around before mopping the floor and wiping down the benches. Usually, she’d leave it to the morning when she felt this tired. Given the news that had knocked her back at the funeral, Holly guessed that after a night with her mind spinning through the new information, she wouldn’t be in any mood to do it then, either.
Just as she squeezed the last of the dirty water out of the mop and rinsed it with a fresh dose of bleach, a knock sounded at the door. Holly walked through, intending to tell a late customer they were out of luck, when she saw the grim figure of Sergeant Matthewson standing there.
For a split second, Holly felt like ducking out the back and pretending that she wasn’t there. The day was already too much to handle—it wasn’t fair to pile on something else. With a sigh, she shrugged and walked over to the door to let him in. If it was bad enough to trouble her at work, then it would be bad enough that he’d just try her at home next.
“Hi, Sergeant. How can I help you?”
“Miss Waterston.” Matthewson clicked his heels together and peered over his shoulder. “Can I come in?”
Holly leaned against the door frame. “I suppose it’s no use asking if whatever this is could wait until tomorrow?”
“None at all,” he said, with a small smile. “I’m afraid there’s been a serious incident.”
Holly waved him through, then went over to the table to turn the chairs over. The same ones she’d only put up a half hour before.
“Have a seat? I can’t offer you anything else, I’m afraid. We sold out.”
“I’m not searching for anything to eat, Miss Waterston. I just need to ask you a few questions.”
Holly sat down opposite the Sergeant and folded her hands on the table. “Okay. What’s this about then?”
“You were at the Statesman Hotel this morning for a funeral ceremony, I believe?”
Holly nodded. Of course, it would be related to the funeral. Even after surviving that awful ceremony, it wasn’t over.
It didn’t really surprise her that something further had happened, either. Given the heightened tensions in that already tense family situation, it would be more surprising if something hadn’t occurred.
“I was there,” Holly agreed. “I was driven there and back by the lawyer who arranged the ceremony today—Marshall Brent.”
“Yes, Mr. Brent is also on our list of people to speak to,” Matthewson said. He sighed. “I don’t suppose there’ll ever be a time when I turn up to a crime scene and find out that you’re not connected.”
“A crime scene?” Holly leaned forward, concern flooding her system so that she felt fully awake again. “Is somebody hurt?”
“Yes. Amber Willoughby was attacked early this afternoon. She was found in the park area just behind the hotel. Stabbed.”
Chapter Ten
“Stabbed?” Holly parroted back to the Sergeant. “Is she alive?”
“Luckily, yes,” he said, his expression somber. “I’ve spoken with the doctor and he said just an inch up or down and it would be another story. She was attacked in the gardens of the Statesman Hotel.”
“Oh, goodness.” Holly stood up, paced three steps into the store, then turned around, walked back, and sat down again. “I can’t believe this happened. The last I saw of Amber, she was extremely angry, but she was perfectly okay.”
“Angry about what?” Matthewson asked, flipping open his notebook and scribbling something down.
“She’d just found out that her father’s estate had been whittled down from around forty million to less than one.” Holly ran her hand through her fringe, trying to pin her unruly curls back. After being run off her feet for the past few hours, they’d grown a bit damp. Now, they were merrily springing back into place. Or out of place.
Holly turned to the sergeant. “Do you know who did it?”
Matthewson squinted at her. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything else about the case at the moment. Not until I clear up a few questions about what you were doing there.”
“You don’t think I had anything to do with it?” Holly stared at him through wide eyes. “I only met the woman today.”
Something in his face told her to tread carefully. Holly rubbed her fingertips on her temple and shook her head. “Actually, that’s not true. I met her on the street out behind the bakery on Monday. But that wasn’t really a meeting as such, more of me stepping into the middle of an altercation.”
“What happened?”
The eagerness with which Matthewson asked that question made Holly feel uncomfortable. She didn’t like talking about other people’s business. Even if the person she spoke to was an officer of the law, it still felt like gossip.
Still, if Amber had been seriously hurt then Holly wasn’t about to hold anything back. “I heard raised voices as I was getting some fruit out of the van.” Holly closed her eyes trying to recall the exact situation. She quickly ran through the events of that afternoon, ending with Crystal dropping Sophie off at Brian Masters’ place.
“You two do like to insert yourself in trouble,” Matthewson grumbled. “I suppose now I’ll need to add Crystal to my list of people to talk to.” He gave an exaggerated sigh, then changed tacks. “What about today? What happened at the funeral?”
Holly sat and chewed her lip, feeling miserable. After a long pause, she sighed.
“What didn’t happen at the funeral today?”
After recounting her story, Holly accompanied the sergeant down to the station. She let them take some fingerprints and swab the inside of her mouth. While walking back home afterward, Holly thought it would be just her luck today that the DNA sample got mixed up with another one and she ended up being convicted of a crime she really hadn’t done.
Yup. That would be just her luck.
When Crystal pulled the door open with a worried frown, Holly was so exhausted that instead of telling her what had happened, she collapsed sobbing in her arms.
Even though Holly knew that she must be scaring her sister, it took a long time before she got herself under enough control to explain what was going on.
“Do you really think Dad would’ve done something like that?” Crystal asked when the whole sorry story was out in the open. “He always seemed so straitlaced that I have a hard time thinking of him seeing a woman on the sly.”
“It does seem out of character,” Holly said. “But if it was just after Mom died, then I suppose it’s possible that he went a bit crazy.” She turned over on the couch, seeking a more comfortable spot for her tired bones. “From what Steven Willoughby recorded, it seems that she didn’t let on she was married until after things went a bit far.”
Crystal shrugged. “It still doesn’t seem like him. I never saw him even glance at another woman after Mom died.”
Holly gave a small laugh. “You know as well as I do that doesn’t mean that he didn’t. Just because he was careful around us, doesn’t mean he didn’t look—or act—at all.”
“Bleurgh,” Crystal said after a moment’s though, sticking her tongue out.
“What?”
“The thought of Dad doing it with someone. I don’t need that on my mind while I’m trying
to go to sleep.”
Holly laughed and nodded. “I know. Maybe we should just stay up all night baking and hire someone to man the shop tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Crystal said with a sardonic edge. “Then we can turn up on Friday to find the cases empty and yet mysteriously no money in the till.”
Turning over onto her stomach, Holly leaned out to poke at the bottom of her sister’s feet. “You have such a low opinion of human nature.”
At that, Crystal snorted. “You would, too, if you were paying attention. Everything miserable that happened to you today happened because of human beings.”
“Hm. Everything nice that happened was because of that, too.”
“Pollyanna,” Crystal shot back. “What nice thing happened, then?”
“Well,” Holly said, drawing the word out as long as possible while she tried to think.
“See,” Crystal said. “You can’t think of anything.”
“Oh, Amber apologized for her bad behavior,” Holly said. “And Samuel sat down and let the ceremony proceed because Amber asked him to. Those are nice things.”
“Certainly makes up for the stabbing.” Crystal slowly rolled over, slipping her feet down onto the floor. “Those cakes won’t bake themselves,” she said. A magic chant that had absolutely no effect.
“We could turn the sign around tomorrow and pretend that we’re on holiday,” Holly said hopefully.
“After the two dead days earlier in the week, I was starting to think that we’d be on a permanent holiday.” Crystal finally roused herself enough to stand up. “You take vanilla and I’ll finish off the blueberries.”
Not about to let her younger sister show her up, Holly struggled to her feet and started to sort out the ingredients. At least the scent of baking would be there later when she was failing to sleep.
The next morning was so quiet in the shop, that Holly managed to fall asleep while sitting upright in the chair.
“Goodness,” Meggie said, the words waking Holly up with a start. “I didn’t know that things had gotten quite this bad.”
The Sweet Baked Mystery Series - Books 1-6 Page 36
