Holly smiled at the consideration. “Well, this is the offending bicycle,” she said, opening up the back door.
“And I guess that you’re the not-so-careful owner,” Alec said with a nod at Elvira. Instead of replying, she studiously examined the tops of her shoes.
“That’s right,” Holly supplied for her. Having suffered an extended bout of shyness as a teenager, she could sympathize with Elvira’s reticence to talk. “Do you think you’ll be able to get it straightened out?”
Alec examined the bicycle for a few minutes, then looked up and nodded. “Give me an hour, and I’ll see you right.”
The speed was a pleasant surprise. Holly turned to Elvira. “Do you want to wait here, or would you rather come along to the bakery and have a seat at the table?”
“Bakery, please,” Elvira answered in a small voice. “If that’s okay.”
“Of course, it’s okay. Otherwise, I wouldn’t ask.” She passed over her phone number to Alec. “If you give me a call once it’s ready, I’ll be right back to pick it up.”
“We could buff those scratches right out if you want,” Alec said, nodding at the rear of her car. “Won’t take much more time.”
Holly hesitated for a second. The township was small enough that she could easily walk to the bakery without breaking a sweat. “Okay. That’ll be great.”
The coolness of the day was a plus on the walk to the bakery. Holly gave a nervous glance at her watch as she and Elvira walked into the small square of shops where it was located.
“Will you be in trouble?” the girl asked in the same small voice.
“From my little sister?” Holly turned to Elvira with a cocked eyebrow. “I don’t think so.”
“You can blame it all on me,” Elvira offered. “Since that’s the truth.”
Holly gave a chuckle and shook her head. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Unfortunately, that was the truth. From the state of the register, it didn’t appear that many customers had graced their shop since Holly had left, hours before.
“Hello?” she called out when Crystal didn’t appear as the shop bell over the door tinkled their arrival. “Are you still here?”
“I’m in the back,” Crystal answered. A moment later, she wandered through, holding their dad’s old recipe book in her hand. “Did you ever see this version of the chocolate calling for fresh chilies?” she asked Holly, then looked up. “Oh, hello. Are you a customer or a guest?”
“Both,” Holly declared before Elvira could give Crystal an answer. “She had a crash on her bike, so I’m sure that a cupcake will fix her right up.”
When Elvira giggled, Holly turned to her with raised eyebrows. “What is it?”
“Your cupcakes are good,” Elvira said with a smile, “but I don’t think they have magical healing powers.”
“You never know,” Crystal said, perhaps trying for mysterious but ending up sounding camp. “There’s a lot of history about food being a cure for disease.”
“Most of which ended about the time that medical doctors started saving more people than they killed,” Holly said, pulling a fresh apron off the top of the stack.
“True enough.” Crystal turned to Elvira. “Would you like to help me with the baking? I’m about to mix up another batch.”
Holly was about to ask if they really needed that, considering everything still sitting behind the display case. Then she saw how Elvira’s face lit up and closed her mouth.
“Oh, shoot!” Holly slapped a hand against her forehead. “I forgot the blueberries!”
“The what?” Crystal stared at her in confusion.
“Wendy had a whole lot of blueberries, and I bought some. I’ve left them in the trunk of the car.”
“So.” Crystal gave a laugh. “Go get them.”
Holly nodded. “They’re in the garage along with my car. It’ll take a while.”
She remembered hefting the bags into the trunk to begin with. Holly’s arms started to ache with the muscle strain they thought was coming.
“Could I borrow the bakery van?”
As Crystal rummaged in her apron pocket for the keys, nodding, she asked, “How many blueberries did you buy exactly?”
“As few as I could get away with. I’ll tell you later.”
“Tease,” Crystal called after her as Holly ran out of the shop.
As she got into the van, Holly hoped that the fruit wouldn’t have defrosted too much more. She reprimanded herself for forgetting the bags in the first place. The scratches on the car could wait. Defrosting blueberries couldn’t.
When she pulled up outside the garage, Alec wandered out, cleaning the grease from his hands with an old rag that might once have been a white skivvy.
“It’s not ready,” he called out. “Neither of them.”
“That’s okay,” Holly said, stopping for a minute to smooth the hair back off her forehead. She felt far too harried for a standard workday. “I just need to grab something out of the trunk.”
“Long as it’s not drugs or a dead body,” Alec said, stepping aside. “I’m legally required to report those.”
Holly laughed, quite enjoying the quirk of his humor. “Nope. I’m afraid you haven’t caught out a hardened criminal. I’m far too absent-minded for that!”
When he saw her struggle to lift the first bag, Alec helped her along by carrying the second. “What on earth do you need all that fruit for?” he asked, then read aloud the lettering on the side of the van. “Sweet Baked Treats. I guess I know your secret ingredient now,” Alec said, tipping her a wink.
“Caught red-handed,” Holly happily agreed, then stared down at her hands. “Or blue-handed as it turns out.”
The defrosting bags had stained her hands a purplish shade. “Here,” Alec said, handing across the rag he’d used earlier. “Have at it.”
Holly scrubbed at the stains with the cloth, but they didn’t budge. She closed her eyes. That probably meant the same discoloration was now on her trunk carpet—not a big deal—and all over the back seat of the bakery van. Crystal wouldn’t be happy; the vehicle was her baby.
“Thanks,” Holly said, handing back the rags. “I’d better be heading off.”
“Yup,” Alec agreed. “Looks like you’ve missed your opportunity to stick those back in the freezer.”
Holly waved goodbye and drove back to the bakery, casting concerned glances at the back seat all the while. When she pulled into the back of the bakery, Holly grabbed both bags, no matter the weight, and dragged them inside.
“Lovely,” Crystal said, rolling her eyes. “Stick them in the fridge for the moment, and I’ll check them over later.”
She and Elvira were squatting in front of the oven, both keeping a careful watch on the rising cakes inside.
As she walked back outside to close up the van, Holly heard raised voices coming from the street. She stepped closer, hoping that loud sounds were the worst of the fight.
Two women were standing by the street corner, oblivious to the pedestrians and traffic moving by. They appeared to be the same age, the one with golden curls holding tightly on the hand of a boy, maybe eight or nine, who must be her son. The other had long dark hair, pulled back into a severe bun.
“I can’t believe that you’d have the nerve to come here, knowing what this place meant to my mother.”
“Please don’t shout, Amber. You’ve scaring Matty.”
“Not as much of a scare as he’ll get if you insist on coming to the funeral. You’re not even real family,” Amber cried out.
Her voice was as distraught as it was loud, attracting a lot of attention. The other woman’s body language, shoulders curled defensively over her chest while placing her torso in front of her son, told Holly she was scared.
Not stopping to think, Holly started to increase her pace, walking toward the two women.
“I don’t care what my father may have promised you while he was alive, you’re not going to get anything now that he’s dead. I buil
t my business from the ground up, starting with absolutely nothing. I deserve that inheritance to keep it going. Especially, since all you ever did was spread your legs.”
“Please calm down,” the golden-haired woman pleaded.
The choice of words appeared to send the dark-haired Amber into an even greater rage. She drew back her arm and Holly rushed forward, inserting herself between the two, looking the attacking woman straight in the eye.
Chapter Five
“Get out of the way,” Amber screamed, trying to duck around Holly to get at her target.
Holly held her hands out, and Amber jerked away, perhaps comparing her white suit to the visible dark stains on Holly’s outstretched hands.
“Please don’t hurt anyone,” Holly asked, struggling against her growing fear to keep her voice level. “I understand that you’re both angry, but this isn’t the sort of town that welcomes fighting on the street.”
Holly swept her arm around, drawing Amber’s attention to the gathered crowd of onlookers forming around them.
“Unless you want to have your photo in tomorrow’s paper, punching a woman with a little boy, then I think it’s best that you both walk off in different directions right now.”
Holly hoped that by including both of the women in her statement, Amber wouldn’t feel that she was being singled out for the reprimand. The strategy must have worked because she lowered her hand and backed up a step, appearing shamefaced.
“I’m sorry,” Amber said. “I didn’t mean to get into such a state.”
“You’re Mr. Willoughby’s daughter,” Holly guessed. “Is that right?”
When Amber nodded, Holly moved a step toward her, prompting the woman to take another step away.
“This must be a tough and emotional time for you,” Holly said gently. “That sort of situation never brings out the best in us. Are you staying at a hotel or with family?”
Amber smoothed a hand over her hair even though not a single strand seemed to have moved out of place. “I’m staying at the hotel.” She huffed out a long breath. “I suppose I should get back there. The only reason I came out was for some food.”
Holly offered Amber a wan smile. “Maybe today calls for room service?”
Amber nodded. “You might be right,” she said before turning away.
The crowd that had gathered in a loose knot began to dissipate, the crisis over. Holly gave a hard stare at the few who still lingered until they too moved away.
Only when she was sure that Amber was well out of reach, did she turn around to check on the blonde woman.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Thank you for stepping in,” she said in a weak voice, rough with grief. “I thought for a minute there she’d really hit me.”
While Holly nodded, she crouched down to the boy’s eye level. “How about you? How are you feeling?”
The boy nodded, then gathered a handful of his mother’s skirt and stepped in behind her. To Holly, he seemed far too old to be exhibiting that behavior. She supposed that the incident had shaken him up.
“I’m Sophie, by the way,” the woman said as Holly stood upright again. “And this is Matthew. Or Matty, as we call him.”
Her face clouded over again, Holly guessed at the use of the word we. If this was Mr. Willoughby’s new wife—or girlfriend, if Amber’s shrill accusations were to be believed—then she must still be getting used to the singular phrase again.
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Holly said automatically, then gave a small laugh. “Well, not under these circumstances, I suppose.”
Sophie gave a nod, repeating the sad smile. A second later, her eyes drifted over Holly’s shoulder, and her face grew shocked.
“Oh, no!”
Holly turned around, body tensed in case Amber was returning for another attack. The woman was still in sight but far away from the three of them. As Holly watched, she turned into the long driveway of an exquisite bed and breakfast and walked up to the front door.
“What is it?” Holly turned back to the mother and child, watching the concern write itself in a deep frown on Sophie’s forehead.
“That’s our hotel,” she said, holding a hand up to cup the side of her face. “We’re staying there, and they only have a half a dozen guest rooms.”
As Holly recognized the problem, she tried to think of a quick solution. “There are other hotels in Hanmer Springs,” she said. “I’m sure that they can’t all be booked out. You’ll be able to find another location.”
But Sophie was shaking her head, the worry etching deeper into her face. “I don’t have any money,” she whispered, blushing red at the admission. “When Steven died, the estate froze all the accounts. We have to stay there because that’s the only place that the estate will pay for.”
“Surely, they’d release funds to you for somewhere to stay?” Holly asked. “I met with the lawyer this morning, and he seemed a decent chap.”
“Marshall?” When Holly nodded, Sophie tilted her head to one side. “He may be a very nice man on his own, but where it comes to the execution of Steven’s will, he's ramrod straight.” She gave a long sigh. “Believe me, I’ve already tried.”
Holly would have loved to be in a position to offer to pay for the woman’s accommodation, but she was already concerned about the lack of foot traffic through the bakery as it was. They had a buffer in the bank but only for emergencies. Then an idea dawned.
“Mr. Masters!” Holly said, then blushed and shook her head as she realized the outburst wouldn’t mean anything to Sophie. “Sorry. He’s a local businessman who’s just turned his hand to philanthropy. Why don’t you come inside for a minute, and I’ll phone through to see if he can lend a hand?”
Sophie took her son’s hand, and they followed Holly through into the bakery. Crystal and Elvira turned curious faces toward the trio as they entered.
“Sophie and Matty, this is my sister Crystal and a friend, Elvira.” Holly caught her sister’s eye and jerked it toward the shop. “Why don’t you two take a seat back here and I’ll pop back through in a minute.”
Taking the hint, Crystal followed Holly through into the front.
“What strays have you picked up now?” her sister asked with a grin.
“It’s Mr. Willoughby’s new wife or girlfriend and his son,” Holly said. Crystal stared blankly at her. “The man who died,” she added.
“Oh!” Crystal flicked a quick glance back through into the bakery section. “But what are they doing here?”
“Mr. Willoughby’s daughter was having a fight with her out on the street,” Holly answered. “And I think if I hadn’t stepped between them, it would’ve become physical. They’re staying at the Oakridge B & B, and I don’t think they should be in such close company.”
Crystal nodded. “What about the Acorn Lodge? They should have rooms.”
“They don’t have any money, either.” Holly took her sister’s elbow and moved her further away from the connecting door. “The estate has frozen their bank accounts, so they can’t pick and choose their own accommodation. I thought that perhaps Mr. Masters might be able to help.”
“Derek?” When Holly rolled her eyes, Crystal gave a small laugh. “Right, sorry. Why would Brian help?”
“Meggie said this morning that he was extending a helping hand out to the community.”
Crystal started to shake her head, then shrugged instead. “Could be worth a shot. I’ll give Derek a call and sound him out about his dad.”
“Thank you.”
Holly moved back into the bakery section while Crystal picked up the phone. “How are the cupcake’s doing?” she asked Elvira. “Are they cool enough to start frosting?”
Elvira shrugged and moved aside. “I don’t know. What do you think?”
Holly poked her finger at the top of one, watching it spring back into place. Warm but not hot.
“I think that it’s about time we showed young Matty here all about the art of cake decorating,” Holl
y said. “Pull your chair closer, young man, so you can see all the action. If your mom’s agreeable, we might even let you take away a sample.”
Matty turned large inquiring eyes to his mother, and Sophie nodded, reaching out to flick a stray curl away from his eyes. “I think that would be a lot of fun.”
“Sorted,” Crystal said a few minutes later. She stopped in the connecting doorway to watch as Matty and Elvira applied frosting to their respective cakes. “Nicely done, you two. If you need a job in a few years, give me a call.”
Matty turned a shy smile toward her while Elvira appeared quietly pleased. “It’s a lot harder than it looks,” she said.
“All the best things are,” Sophie whispered.
“I’ve spoken to Brian Masters who has a very large house with very few people in it,” Crystal said. “He’d be delighted to have you and Matty as houseguests.”
The same worried frown pinched Sophie’s brow together again. “Is he sure? We don’t want to be an imposition.”
“Believe me,” Holly interjected before her sister could answer, “if Brian Masters thought you were an imposition, he’d never offer in a million years.”
Crystal laughed and nodded in agreement. “I can give you a lift over there now if Holly minds the shop.”
Holly nodded. “Don’t forget your cupcake,” she called out as the trio turned for the back exit.
Holly was about to call the lawyer back when Marshall Brent turned up at her door.
“I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.”
Holly swallowed her laugh, winking to Elvira before gazing around the empty shop. “It’s fine. I don’t think we’re going to be flooded with customers anytime soon!”
“I just thought I’d check back in and see where you’d gotten with the florist.”
Holly nodded. “I was just about to call. Wendy is happy to provide everything you need for the service. Just a second.” Holly jotted down the number for her friend. “I’ve told her what I know and promised to fill her in with anything new,” she said, handing the slip of paper across. “But here’s her number, in case you need to talk to her directly.”
The Sweet Baked Mystery Series - Books 1-6 Page 32