by K E O'Connor
“What do you think?” His nervous gaze was glued to my mouth as if he expected me to spit the cheese out.
I sucked the cheese slowly before chewing. “I could get used to this.”
His hand shook as he lowered the tasting board, and he let out a relieved sigh. “It’s the first time I’ve ever done one of these big events. And in such a grand venue. I was worried that people would think nut cheese was ridiculous and they wouldn’t be interested.”
“I’m interested,” I said. “I’ll have to buy some different varieties. You’ve got all sorts here.” There were lumps of nut cheese studded with walnuts, dried cranberries, and dusted with black pepper. They looked delicious.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it. I’m selling cakes over on the Audley Castle stall. If anybody asks about cheese, I’ll send them your way.”
“That’s good of you. Thanks. I almost didn’t come. I felt sick with nerves this morning.” His gaze went over my shoulder and he waved.
I turned and saw Pete strolling into the marquee with another two boxes of pies. He nodded at Colin.
“Do you know Pete?” I asked.
“We’re good friends. He encouraged me to get a stand this year. He’s tried my cheeses and is always pushing me to expand the business.”
“From what I’ve tasted, you’ll do really well today.” Starting your own business was tough. I should know, having one failed café behind me.
He nodded. “Here’s hoping. Good luck with your cake sales.”
“And you. I’d better get going. I’ll see you around.” I left the marquee and hurried back to get Meatball.
We finished up our walk, and I returned to the kitchen, my thoughts on the soon to be open marquee that would be full of paying visitors.
After Meatball was settled with a bowl of water and a chew toy in his kennel, I had one final check of everything I needed for my own stall.
Laden with a huge trolley of goodies, I hurried back to the marquee. It was time to set up and let the food fair begin.
Today would be fun, and I’d be right in the middle of it.
***
I twisted my head from side to side and carefully rolled each foot in turn. There was less than an hour left of the food fair, and I was exhausted. I was used to being on my feet for a lot of the day, but add in the constant interaction with visitors eager to know about the castle and buy cake, and I hadn’t had a moment to myself.
I’d managed a couple of short breaks, but other than that, I’d been on my own most of the day.
A smile crossed my face as I looked at the almost empty trays of cakes left from the busy day. Business was booming. Most people who came to the stand bought at least one cake, and everyone was delighted with the offerings available.
I lifted my head as a murmur ran through the crowd. People parted to let someone through. Lord Rupert appeared.
He ran a hand through his hair and grinned when he saw me. “Holly! How’s everything going? Are you keeping the crowds happy?”
I glanced around at the people staring at Rupert. It wasn’t every day they got to see a member of the Audley family strolling around.
“Everything’s been great,” I said. “Do you want to come into the stall? You’re causing quite a stir.”
He glanced around and shrugged self-consciously before dashing behind the table and hiding behind a large pull up banner. “Thanks. I sometimes forget that people think I’m something special.”
“Well, you are a little special. You live in an enormous castle that you’ll one day own.”
He chuckled. “There’s no guarantee of that. I had to come to the food fair. When I saw the crowds thinning out, I thought I’d risk it. Goodness, have you sold all these cakes?” His gaze ran over the empty trays stacked under the table.
“I have. I’m hoping Chef Heston will be happy.”
“Lord Rupert, may I have your autograph?” A pretty blonde in a vest top and shorts thrust a piece of paper and a pen at him.
He cringed for a second before forcing a smile and nodding. “Of course. But you do know that I’m not famous.”
“I think you’re dreamy.” The woman giggled and blushed. “And I can’t believe you’re not married. Are you looking for someone special?” She fluttered her long lashes.
He glanced at me as a blush crept up his cheeks. “I’m not ready for that. I’m still ... finding my feet.”
“I’m sure you’ll find them faster if you have someone special by your side,” she said. “Do you prefer blondes or brunettes?”
“Oh, well, I think it’s more to do with personality than hair color.” He thrust the signed piece of paper back at her.
“Of course. Handsome and smart. You’re the perfect combination.” She giggled as her friends pulled her away.
A flicker of annoyance ran through me. Although I was also curious about Rupert’s preference when it came to girlfriends. He’d been out on a few dates since I’d started working at the castle, but he never seemed enthused by the women he went out with. Maybe he simply wasn’t looking for a relationship.
“Sorry about that.” He grimaced and shook his head. “I don’t know what people want with my autograph. They only do that sort of thing for rock stars, don’t they?”
“To some, you are a rock star, especially to the women who want to marry a handsome prince and live in a castle.”
“Gosh. Do you think I’m handsome?”
It was my turn to blush. I busied myself with straightening the leaflets on the stand. “I couldn’t say. After all, you are sort of my boss.”
“Oh, I’m not even close. I have nothing to do with the finances of the household. Chef Heston’s your direct boss. I’m just a ... cog in the wheel.”
I grinned. “I am the downstairs to your upstairs, though.”
“No! Those days are long past. It’s not as if we keep the staff hidden so as not to offend people. You’re welcome in the castle any time you like. You don’t even have to ask.”
That was good of him to say, but I definitely would ask before I blundered into the family’s private quarters.
“Here, try a piece of this chocolate and cherry tart before it’s all gone. It’s proved a hit with the customers.”
“I don’t mind if I do.” He took the slice of tart and bit into it before nodding his approval. “Excellent as always.”
His appearance was gathering a large crowd, and the last forty-five minutes were hectic as people came along pretending to be interested in picking up leaflets and buying cakes, all in the hope of getting a glimpse of Lord Rupert as he skulked at the back of the stall.
I looked around and gave a contented sigh as the last of the visitors trickled out of the marquee. It had been a great day. Busy and a bit stressful, but everyone had loved the food. I’d had nothing but compliments all day. It gave my baking ego a boost.
“Do you want a hand packing up?” Rupert popped out from behind a display.
“There’s not much left to take back,” I said. “As you can see, it’s only crumbs on the trays. We’ve officially sold out.”
“Then I’ll pack those up and take them back to the kitchen,” he said.
“You don’t have to.”
“It’ll be my pleasure. After all, you’re always delighting me with the desserts you make. It’s the least I can do.” He started packing up the trays, and I smiled as he worked. He was a decent guy.
I collected the few remaining leaflets and information on the castle and packed them in a box.
Rupert stood with the trays in his hands, staring at me.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yes. Perfect. I was just wondering, do you like opera?”
My eyebrows shot up. “I’ve never been. If I’m being truthful, I’m not a fan.”
He shook his head. “Opera’s not just about the music, it’s the stories they tell. It’s very dramatic.”
My mouth twisted to the side. I was a r
ock ‘n’ roll girl through and through. I loved nothing more than the screech of a guitar and a throaty male voice. I couldn’t see myself sitting at the opera listening to a warbling lady sing about death, heartache, and betrayal.
“Ah! I see I haven’t tempted you with that offering,” he said.
I blinked rapidly. Was that his attempt at asking me out? “Um, we could always compare music. We don’t need to see an opera to enjoy it. You can stream some live and we can listen to it together. You might make an opera convert of me yet.”
“Oh! I hadn’t thought of that. We could do that. What kind of music do you like?”
“I’m a rock fan. Heavy guitars, loud drums, super confident lead singer.”
“I’ve not had much experience of that kind of music. It all seems a bit ... shouty.”
“There are some amazing rock bands who’ve performed with symphony orchestras. I’ve got an incredible live recording of Lynyrd Skynyrd when they played with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra. It’ll blow your mind.”
“Golly! That sounds intense.”
“You can borrow it,” I said. “Why don’t you lend me some opera, and I’ll lend you some rock? Our tastes can meet in the middle.”
“That sounds fun. Then maybe we can—”
“He’s dead!” a man yelled.
My head whipped around to see who was shouting.
“What did he say?” Rupert lowered the trays to the table.
“Somebody help me.” Colin Cheeseman stumbled into view, his eyes wide and his body shaking.
I raced over and grabbed his arm. “Colin, what’s the matter?”
He choked out a sob before raising a hand and pointing to Pete’s stall. “Over there. I just found him.” He leaned over and placed his hands on his knees, breathing deeply.
“You stay with him,” I said to Rupert. I hurried to Pete’s stall, my heart pounding. As I rounded the table and headed to the back of the stand, I froze.
Pete was on the ground with a pie slicer sticking out of his back.
Chapter 5
For a few seconds, I couldn’t hear, see, or feel anything. Then everything snapped back into focus. Sound roared into my ears. I stumbled to the ground and checked for a pulse in Pete’s neck.
There was nothing. He was dead.
Other stallholders followed close behind me, and the roar of chaos and people talking over each other began.
“Call an ambulance,” someone yelled.
“Get the police.”
“Is he dead?”
“What’s that sticking out of his back?”
I shook my head and stood on shaky knees as I backed away. I looked around the stall, but there was nobody else there. Whoever had done this was long gone.
I turned from the horrible discovery and took in a deep breath. I looked at the gathered crowd of shocked people. Somebody needed to take charge of this mess. This was a crime scene.
I pointed to a man who had a phone in his hand. “Call an ambulance and get the police here.”
He stared at me for a second before nodding and dialing on his phone.
“Everyone else stay back.” I ushered the people away.
“What happened to him?” asked the stallholder I recognized from the chutneys and pickles stand.
“I’m not sure,” I said.
“That can’t be an accident,” a woman said. “He didn’t fall on his pie slicer, did he?”
“Most likely not,” I said. “If this is a crime scene, we need to stay back and let the police do their job.”
People backed away, muttering frantically to each other.
“Move aside. Security coming through.” Campbell Milligan appeared through the crowd, followed by Saracen and two other security guards. His eyes narrowed when he saw me. “Saracen, get these people out of the way. Make sure no one tramples on potential evidence.”
Saracen nodded and got to work with his colleagues.
Campbell turned to me. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard Colin yelling that someone was dead and came to investigate. That’s when I found Pete.” I gestured behind me, not ready to look at the body again.
Campbell looked over my shoulder, and his eyes tightened. “Do you know this man?”
“Not really. I met him today when he was unloading his pies. His name’s Pete Saunders.”
“Have you checked if he’s still breathing?” Campbell was already moving, kneeling over the body, and his fingers going exactly where mine had been a few minutes ago.
“Of course. Someone’s called an ambulance. The police will be on their way too.” A wave of dizziness hit me, and I swayed.
Campbell was next to me in an instant, a large hand on my shoulder, stopping me from falling. “You need to get out of here.”
I sucked in a deep breath as black dots sparked in my eyes. “He seemed like a nice guy. Why would anyone do this?”
“That’s for us to investigate,” Campbell said. “Leave here, now. Your interference isn’t welcome.”
My eyes narrowed as I glared up at him. “I’m not interfering. I’m helping.”
“Help by staying out of the way. This is a murder scene.”
I swallowed, feeling queasy. I forced my gaze back to the scene of the crime. Pete lay face down, his arms splayed out and his head twisted to the side. Several of his pies were scattered around him, as if they’d been thrown with some force. They were smashed all over the ground. Why would anyone do that to his pies?
Campbell gave me a less than gentle shove. “Time to go, Holly.”
I took a few steps away, not sure what to do next.
Rupert appeared in front of me. He put an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“Lord Rupert! You need to go with Saracen immediately,” Campbell said.
“Oh, no, I’m fine,” Rupert said. “I need to keep an eye on Holly. She must be in shock after discovering this terrible scene.”
“Your safety is of paramount importance,” Campbell said. “It’s likely that this man has been murdered. The killer could still be on the scene. You’re vulnerable.”
Rupert’s eyes widened, and he looked around the marquee. “I don’t feel vulnerable. I want to take care of Holly.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “Campbell’s right. You shouldn’t be here, just in case.”
“Not without you,” Rupert said. “Come with me to the castle.”
I stepped out of his comforting embrace. “No, I’ll be fine here.”
“I ... oh, well, if you’re sure.” He frowned, looking a little dejected.
“Really, you’re much more important. You need to get somewhere safe.”
Rupert scrubbed his chin as he was reluctantly led away by Saracen.
I stepped to one side and was almost knocked off my feet by a woman who barged through the watching crowd. She had a mass of silky dark curls. Her cheeks were pale and eyes wide as she stared around.
“Somebody said that Pete’s been hurt. What happened? Tell me what’s going on.” She addressed her questions to no one in particular.
I caught hold of her arm. “Are you a friend of Pete Saunders?”
Her gaze flashed to me before she looked away. “Where is he? I need to know he’s okay.”
I bit my lip. I hated telling anyone bad news. “I’m really sorry to say he’s not. He’s—”
“Holly! Are you still here?” Campbell appeared beside me.
I huffed out a breath. “I was about to leave.”
Campbell inclined his head toward the exit. “Good idea.” He focused on the woman next to me. “Do you know the victim?”
I repressed a groan. Nicely done, Campbell.
She stared at him, and her mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out. She cleared her throat. “Victim? Pete’s a victim? Please, I need to see him.”
“No one can see him,” Campbell said. “Not until we’ve collected any evidence.”
Th
e woman spluttered out several words but then nodded. “I’m not going anywhere. I have to know what’s going on. You’ll tell me eventually if I refuse to leave.”
Campbell glanced at me and scowled.
I repressed a smile. It seemed he didn’t like strong-minded women going against his wishes.
Campbell had just turned away when the woman leaped forward. She dodged around him and raced into the back of the stall.
She gasped before a wail shot from her lips. Then she was falling to the ground. Campbell caught her before she landed and lifted her without any effort before removing her from the scene.
As he dealt with the collapsed woman, I saw Colin. He was at the back of the crowd, looking pale and tense.
I hurried over. “Did you see who did that to Pete?”
He scrubbed at his forehead with his fingers. “No. I’d finished packing up my stall. I’d almost sold out so had little to do. I came over to offer Pete a hand, see if he needed any help with loading up the truck. I wandered in and ... found him on the ground.” He sucked in a breath, and his jaw wobbled.
I patted his arm. “That must have been terrible.”
“I didn’t believe it. I thought maybe he was having a joke with me. Pete liked a good joke. Then I saw the blood and the mess. I tried shaking him but got nothing. Is he really dead?”
“I’m sorry, he is. You didn’t see anything strange when you arrived at the stall? Nobody leaving or hurrying away?”
“Nothing like that,” Colin said. “It was quiet. The crowd was thinning out. There was no one else around.”
“Do you know the woman who just fainted?” I asked. “She knows Pete.”
“Oh, yes, I know her. That’s Jessica Donovan. They used to date. Well, an on-off relationship, I guess you could call it. Pete was popular with the ladies. I’d often be his wing man when we went out. She wanted to get serious, so he finished things. I’m not surprised to see her here today. She loves the food fairs. That’s how they met, I believe.”
“Did she still care for Pete?”
He nodded. “She’d often hang around when he was working and try to sweet talk him, but he wasn’t interested. I’m sorry she had to see this, though. She’s a nice lady.”