Raspberries and Retaliation

by Katherine Hayton

  She staggered out onto the back porch and slumped in an outdoor chair, wrapping her arms tightly around her midriff. Although the backyard was full of noise, it was the natural sounds of animals either settling down after a long day or waking to a new night.

  This time last week, Holly had been looking forward to her hair appointment after a half day Saturday. She’d been anticipating a lovely time with Aidan on Sunday, the only dread in her mind the thought he might cancel on her on short notice again. Crystal and Alec had cooked her dinner before heading out for an evening, goodness knows where.

  Now, Holly was all alone. No boyfriend, no sister. The house behind her felt threatening as though the silence inside was a palpable thing, pushing her away.

  Holly desperately wanted to cry, but if she started, she wouldn’t stop. There’d been enough mornings with puffy eyes in the bakery this week. Another one and people would begin to talk even louder than they had been doing.

  To distract herself, Holly began to go over the clues from the murder case, putting them together in light of Clarence’s arrest. She hadn’t picked him for a killer. Even when she was insisting so vehemently that they needed to tell the police about his absences from the Masters’ household, Holly hadn’t thought the evidence would lead to his being charged with murder.

  So, why did you insist, then? Was it just because Crystal didn’t want you to tell?

  No. Yes. Maybe.

  Holly shook her head, trying to find the truth hidden deep in her belly. The need to explain Clarence’s whereabouts to the police had suddenly become consumed with another half-dozen arguments that she and Crystal had suppressed too long. It made it hard to sort through and decide what to feel about just that one thing.

  Derek. His face appeared in Holly’s mind. The miserable twist to his mouth when he explained that the current house guest was making things harder for him. When she informed him, she would tell the police, his face had brightened up, a worry gone. Even if Holly didn’t believe there was anything nefarious behind Clarence’s nighttime escapes—unless secret drinking counted—Derek certainly felt they warranted scrutiny. He just hadn’t been brave enough to force the issue himself.

  Oh, yes. You’re so big and brave.

  Holly shook her head and plunged her hand deep into her curls, pulling them forward, even though they were now too short to cover much of her brow.

  If not Clarence, then who? Doris? Holly couldn’t imagine her pushing anyone over a hillside without tumbling down herself. Aidan?

  Holly could just about imagine him being involved in Jessica’s death. Anybody could be, really. A quick push on a hilltop walk followed by the sudden urge to disguise yourself and pretend it was all a dreadful accident.

  The trouble was, Holly could imagine a lot of people caught out by the same act. One quick strike and then scrambling to cover their tracks.

  Danny Chilvers, though?

  If that death was murder, then the act must have taken planning or some bizarre set of circumstances outside of Holly’s understanding. Aidan had no reason to return to the campsite. If he was genuinely trying to cover up a murder—or even manslaughter, given the circumstances—then a man of his degree of intelligence would ensure he kept far away.

  To hold such a grudge that he put himself back in the firing line to dispatch a man that before this week Holly hadn’t even known existed? It seemed so far outside the realm of possibility that her mind skittered away from the thought, unable to touch upon it with conviction.

  The tortuous circle of her thoughts carried Holly on a merry-go-round. Visiting the same evidence with the same line-up of suspects. Each piece fixed solid, welded in place, unable to be rearranged in a different way.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Once again, when Holly opened the bakery on Saturday morning, Crystal was nowhere to be seen. Although she had expected it, Holly still had a lump in her throat as she got the morning baking on. Every audible footstep made her stop, pulse beating high in her throat until it passed by.

  The custom was variable on a Saturday morning. Although there was always enough trade to justify opening, sometimes it got pretty close to the wire, and on other weeks the shop would be packed full. This Saturday was middling—bursts of customers would arrive, chattering excitedly about their weekend, then there would be droughts while everyone passed by without even a sideways glance to indicate they thought about coming in.

  At mid-morning, Holly tapped the clock-face, confident that it must be wrong. Nope. It resolutely ticked down the seconds, each one stretching out longer and longer. To Holly, it felt like being trapped back in a schoolroom, wishing that she could be anywhere but there while the clock refused point blank to move.

  “Miss Waterston?”

  Holly gave a startled yelp and turned around. She’d somehow managed to fall into a light doze while staring at the empty oven through the connecting door. A good thing it hadn’t been on!

  “Elvira.” Holly broke into a welcoming smile. “It’s good to see you. Did you want a cupcake?”

  But Elvira was shaking, a tremor that worked its way from the tip of her head down to her feet. Holly moved toward her with alarm, but the girl danced away, keeping out of reach.

  “I heard that you broke up with Aidan,” Elvira said, almost choking on the words.

  Holly felt a rush of anger at her own foolishness. She’d made a promise to herself that she’d get in contact with the teenager and let her know that she was always welcome to come and work for her. Instead, Holly had been focused on her own interests, and Elvira had wholly slipped from her mind. She could have stamped her foot in frustration.

  “That’s right. We haven’t seen very much of each other lately, and we thought it—”

  “It’s okay. You don’t owe me an explanation. I just came in here to tell you that I really loved working here and I’m sorry that it didn’t work out. I know that you won’t want to see Mom or me for a while, but if you’re looking for help in the future, I hope that you’ll think of me.”

  Elvira’s words came to a halt and she ran for the door, her throat working as the emotion seemed to get the better of her. Holly tore off her apron, ready to chase after the girl and tell her that she had it all wrong when common-sense reasserted itself. She couldn’t just run out of the bakery in the mid-morning, leaving it open for anybody to wander in.

  Instead of rushing down the street after the teenager, Holly signaled frantically to Mrs. Hendrickson in the tavern window. The woman looked startled at first, then nodded. Ben came roaring out the door a moment later—a strange knight in very un-shiny armor.

  “Could you look after the shop for a minute?”

  Before Holly could even finish her request, Ben was shooing her out of the door. “Go. Go. I’ve got everything here under control.”

  Holly fled down the street, trying to channel her younger self as she worked her way into a sprint.

  If Elvira had kept going at the same speed, there was no way that Holly could have caught up to her. Luckily, the girl had stopped and plonked herself down on a park bench opposite the memorial library.

  As Holly arrived, panting with her cheeks an alarmingly temperature, Elvira stood up, ready to run again.

  “Please,” Holly begged. “Sit?”

  The girl sat down again, and Holly collapsed beside her on the wooden bench, huffing and puffing to no avail. Her lungs insisted for a good few minutes that the world had run out of oxygen. Finally, just when Holly was starting to feel scared at the lack of recovery, her body began to transform back to normal.

  “I guess I should get to the gym more,” Holly said between puffs. “Or ever.”

  Elvira laughed, but the high color in her cheeks told Holly that she was still close to tears.

  “I meant to talk to you before you heard it somewhere else.”

  Elvira drew a line in the dirt with the toe of her sneaker. “You did?”

  “Yes,” Holly said with as much emphasis as her struggli
ng lungs could provide. “I wanted to make sure you knew that me breaking up with your cousin is nothing to do with you. I’ve been lucky to find someone as talented as you to work in the bakery with me. I’d be so honored if you came to work there again during the holidays.”

  “Really?” This time, the color in Elvira’s cheeks was from pleasure rather than sadness. A shy smile played around the edge of her lips, then she dropped her head down again. “My granny told me that you’d never want anything to do with me again.”

  Holly rolled her eyes. “I’m sure that Esmerelda is a wonderful great-aunt to you, but she’s nothing but a pain in the you-know-what to me!”

  Elvira scrunched her nose up and started to giggle. “Mom said she’d that granny would never forgive you for what your father did to her.”

  Holly shrugged. “I still don’t know all the ins and outs of that one, but I’m sure Tilly’s right. Esmerelda appears to be a woman well-practiced in holding a grudge.”

  At that, Elvira burst into a wave of genuine laughter. “She’s a good baker, though. Everything I know, Granny taught me.”

  “In that case, she must be fantastic,” Holly said. Even Crystal had been blown away at Elvira’s performance in the bakery. “It’s a pity we can’t harness those skills inside the shop, instead of having her glowering outside.”

  “You’re really sure about the bakery job?” Elvira asked, shooting Holly a quick glance under lowered lids.

  Holly smiled. She could remember the insecurity of being a teenager when it sometimes seemed that everything in the world was against you. “I’m certain. I’m positive. I’m as sure as someone could possibly be!”

  “Well, good. ‘Cause I would love to come and work there for the holidays again.”

  “And I’d love to have you.” Holly patted her chest as her lungs decided a bout of coughing was in order. “Just so long as you never make me run after you again.”

  “Oh.” Elvira’s eyes widened. “The shop!”

  “Don’t worry,” Holly hastened to reassure her. “Ben’s taken over the counter.” On second thought, she frowned. “Actually, that’s a good reason for me to be getting back, isn’t it? I don’t think he graduated top of his class in math.”

  After another minute of recovery, Holly strolled back to the bakery. Ben was happily whistling a tune behind the counter, trying to throw a dollar coin into the air and land it on his nose.

  “Thanks so much for that,” Holly said. “I’m really grateful for you taking over on such short notice all the time.”

  “Happy to do it,” Ben said with a smile. “Anything that gets me out of working beside my mother is something I enjoy doing.”

  His emphatic nod made Holly laugh. “Well, take a cupcake in payment at least.”

  Ben helped himself to the cabinet, deciding on one that hadn’t started off quite the right shape so had been buried beneath a mountain of frosting.

  “Oh,” Holly said as a sudden thought struck her. “I was in the movie theater the other day, and Nina said that Star Adventure movie is coming back again. You must let me shout you a ticket. Hopefully, it doesn’t fill up this time around.”

  At that, Ben looked a bit shamefaced. “No need to do that.”

  “But…” Holly stared at him with a frown. “I thought you wanted to see it? If you’d prefer to go by yourself or with someone else, I’m happy to shout that as well. It’s just my way of saying thank you.”

  “No need,” Ben said again, staring down at the floor. “I, ah, I actually saw it already.”

  Holly’s frown grew deeper as she stared at Ben. “You saw it on the night you ushered?” she guessed.

  He nodded. “Yeah. There was a seat spare in the end, so I didn’t think that the manager would mind.”

  Ben turned to slip out the back, but Holly caught him by the elbow. “Just a minute, you mean there was a seat spare in the movie theater last Saturday? At the evening showing?” It must be. That was the only time that the movie had been in town, but Holly wanted to make doubly sure.

  “Yeah.” Ben straightened his shoulders up. “Look, I know that the manager wanted to resell any extra seats, but I know that other ushers who work there just help themselves, the same as me.”

  “What seat did you sit in?” When Ben frowned at the hand still clutching his arm, Holly blushed and let go. “Sorry. It’s important.”

  “You’re not going to tell on me, are you?”

  “If I do,” Holly assured him, “I’ll make sure that you don’t end up in any trouble. I just really need to know.”

  “It was the third row from the back, right on the aisle,” Ben said slowly, picking at the frosting on his cupcake. “It wasn’t even like it was a good seat!”

  “Thank you.” Holly backed away toward the door, untying the apron she’d just pulled back on. “Now, I’m going to ask you for another favor. Could you watch the shop again? I really need to go and talk to someone.”

  Ben’s eyes widened, then he nodded vigorously before frowning. “Should I go and tell Mom I’ll be a while?”

  “I’ll tell her,” Holly said, waving goodbye as she opened the door. “I’ll also tell her what a great help you’ve been.”

  As she walked into the tavern, Holly muttered under her breath, “A great help, indeed!”

  Holly leaned forward, placing the palm of her hand flat on Sergeant Matthewson’s desk. “I checked with Nina at the movie theater. It’s the same seat that she sold to Lucy Walsham on the night. She looked it up without knowing why I wanted the information, so I’m sure it’s solid.”

  Matthewson sat back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. “And what do you want me to do? Arrest Lucy because she didn’t go to the movies on the night she said she would?”

  Indignation rose in Holly’s chest at the dismissive tone of his voice. She slapped her hand against the table, getting a little thrill of satisfaction that the noise made the sergeant jump. “I think it warrants you bringing her into the station and giving her the third degree at the very least. The person with the most reason to want Jessica Chilvers dead is wandering around out there without an alibi.”

  “Fine. I’ll look into it.” The sergeant pulled his keyboard near and started to tap furiously upon it. After a moment, he looked up at Holly with raised eyebrows. “Was there something else?”

  Holly had been hoping that she’d bring in her new information and the man would cry out in triumph and run out the door immediately to arrest Lucy for the crime. Matthewson’s apparent lack of interest was a very bitter pill to swallow.

  “No.” She frowned down at her hands and pulled them back into her lap. “There’s nothing else.”

  As she walked out past the front desk, waving to the PC on duty, Holly felt like she was missing something. She stood in the lobby for another minute, hand on the door, not quite able to make herself push it open to walk outside.

  “Graham, will you run this through the system?” Matthewson’s question was to the man on the front desk and he gave an audible sigh as he turned and saw Holly still standing in the station. “Do you need some help, Miss Waterston?”

  But Holly ignored him, staring instead at Lucy who was tearing past, outpacing Petey in her hurry to get somewhere. As Matthewson came up behind her, she pointed. “What does that look like to you?”

  “Like someone going somewhere in a hurry.”

  Just then, Lucy fumbled in her jacket, pulling out a long knife.

  “Graham!” Matthewson’s voice rang up an octave as he turned to the desk officer in alarm. “We might need a hand here.”

  “Oh, no,” Holly cried out, suddenly understanding the trajectory that Lucy was following. “She’s headed straight to the bakery.”

  She pushed the door open, running headlong through it, her lungs quicker to protest this time after their earlier workout.

  “Miss Waterston. Come back here!”

  The sergeant’s voice went in one ear and out the other as Holly struggled to keep
pace with Lucy. Petey caught up with his mistress, earning himself a shove out of the way instead of the usual praise. He let out a howl and stopped running, looking after Lucy with big, uncertain eyes.

  “Lucy! Stop!”

  The woman didn’t hear her, but Holly couldn’t blame her. With her lungs crying at the renewed workout, she barely had enough breath to make the cry audible. As she put every last ounce of effort into gaining on Lucy, hands suddenly grabbed Holly around the waist.

  She fell to the ground, tangling up with Matthewson who must have tackled her. Holly rolled over onto her front, clawing at the ground to regain her footing.

  “For goodness’ sake, Holly. Stop fighting me and stay still. I can’t let you run into danger.”

  “It’s Ben!” Holly’s voice cracked, and she began to cough, her lungs finally rebelling so harshly that she gave up the fight to keep chasing Lucy. “Ben is in the bakery. He’s all by himself. We have to help him.”

  As Matthewson looked up with renewed horror, they watched Lucy slam through the bakery door, knife in hand.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “We can go in through the back,” Holly said, scrambling to her feet. “I locked it earlier since it was just me in the shop, but I’ve got the key.” She held it aloft, waggling it back and forward under the sergeant’s nose.

  Matthewson didn’t look very impressed. “You’ll stay right here, is what you’ll do. Bad enough that she might have one person trapped in the shop. I’m not sending in extra hostages to give her further leverage.”

  He took his radio out while Holly frantically tried to peer into the bakery. The sunlight hit the glass as just the wrong angle, turning the entire frontage opaque.

  “We’ve got a negotiator coming up from Christchurch,” Matthewson said, turning as the PC from the front desk appeared at his side. “You get on home now, Miss Waterston. There’s nothing more to do here for the time being. I’ll give you a call when there’s a development to report.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Holly said. “I’m not going to sit at home with my insides churning waiting for a call. I’m not a teenager waiting for her first date, I’m a business owner and there’s a mad woman in my shop!”