“Thanks.” Marshall tucked it away in his briefcase.
“If she doesn’t answer, just keep ringing,” Holly warned. “If Wendy’s out in her garden, she can’t hear the phone.”
“I’ll do that.” Marshall continued to smile at Holly, and she wondered if there was something else she was meant to be doing. Just then, the phone rang, and she excused herself.
“It’s Alec here,” the caller said. “I’m calling from the garage.”
“Great. Is the bike ready?”
There was a pause on the line, as though Holly’s question had derailed the man’s train of thought. “Yup,” he said finally, “the bike is all fixed up. I was actually calling about your car.”
Holly felt her stomach drop. The usual feeling when she had to deal with a mechanic. Back in Christchurch, she’d always made Simon do it when she could. Once they started to explain what was wrong, it all just sounded like gibberish. Nonsensical phrases that came complete with a hefty price tag, more often than not.
“What’s wrong with the car?”
Holly’s voice must have more concern in it then she thought because Marshall turned his head toward her with a frown. She cupped her hand over the receiver and smiled back at him as Alec began to list things. A very long list.
“Most of that stuff is just cosmetic,” he said at the end. “But you won’t get your warranty without the new tires and a wheel alignment. Since it’s due at the end of next week…”
He trailed off and Holly closed her eyes. Next week? It seemed hardly any time since she’d last taken the car in for inspection. Just before Simon surprised her with the news that he no longer wanted to be married to her.
“Okay. Do whatever you need to,” Holly said. “When will it be ready to collect?”
At that, Alec issued a low whistle. “Probably late tomorrow, maybe say Wednesday morning to be safest.”
That didn’t sound so bad, after all. Holly agreed and then hung the phone up.
“Car trouble?” Marshall asked. “It’s always unpleasant, isn’t it?”
Holly offered up a weak smile, trying to calculate how much the total would cost her. “It is.”
“You’ll be okay to get to the funeral, though?”
Holly briefly closed her eyes again as she inwardly groaned.
The bell jangled at another arrival, and Holly opened her eyes, startled, then relaxed as Crystal walked in. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Brent.” She smiled at the visitor. As she drew level with Holly, she said, “They’re all settled in.”
“Great.” Holly nodded. “Would it be okay for me to take the van out to the funeral on Wednesday?”
Expecting a quick nod, Holly was taken aback when Crystal shook her head. “I’ve got the major deliveries on Wednesday morning.” She gave a small frown and tilted her head forward. “You know that.”
Holly nodded, feeling foolish. “Yeah, I do. Sorry.”
“Just take a taxi out there,” Crystal said. “They have a mini-van on service that’ll fit everything in the back.”
“If it’s a problem,” Marshall said, looking nervous as he interrupted, “then I’m happy to offer you a lift.” He gave a small smile. “I’m afraid that my clients will probably be taxing your taxi service.”
Holly gave a laugh at the small joke, then considered his offer. “Are you sure?” she asked after a minute. “I’m certain that I could work out other arrangements if I need to.”
“There’s no need,” Marshall said. “I’d be delighted to take you along, and it makes sense since I’m already heading that way. Plus”—he gave her a delighted wink—“you know that I’ll have you at the ceremony in plenty of time.”
“Okay.” Holly gave another laugh at his enthusiasm. “I’ll gratefully accept your offer.”
As he walked out of the shop, Elvira tugged nervously on Holly’s arm. “Did the garage guy say anything about my bicycle?”
“It’s all ready. If you’re happy to go around there alone, you can head off now.”
Elvira’s face flooded with color. “I don’t have any money.”
“I told him to add it to my bill,” Holly reassured her. “That seems fair payment for all the decorating you saved me from.”
Chapter Six
On the day of the funeral, Holly loaded the last tray into the back of Marshall’s van and stepped back, placing her hands on her hips in satisfaction.
“All ready to go?” Marshall asked from the front seat, and in answer, Holly slid the back of the van shut.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, the phrase springing to her lips without a thought. That had been the ritual phrase of her father every time they’d been traveling somewhere as a family. In a reversal of the standard routine, Crystal was always first to be ready, while their dad was frequently last.
“I guess we should get going, then,” Marshall Brent said, starting up his van.
When he’d first pulled up outside the bakery, Holly had thought for one long terrible moment that Marshall was driving a hearse. The large black vehicle with its raised roof at the read was so polished and accommodation that it reminded her of the funeral home. After seeing her expression of distress, though, Marshall had opened up the back to let her peek inside.
“There’s nothing harmful back here, I promise.” After a second, he held up his hand in a salute. “Scouts’ honor.”
With relief, Holly had started to load up the back of the van.
Now, as she peeked across at Marshall driving, Holly wondered if he would last out the day. Although he hadn’t seemed very chipper on Monday when he’d first dropped by, that was still a lot better than his appearance today.
The skin under his eye sagged, sporting dark brown bags that looked like bruises. There was an undertone of gray to his face, ashen, as though Marshall was on the verge of fainting.
Although dressed and coiffed in the same immaculate state as he’d been a few days before, Holly couldn’t help but think Marshall was still disheveled in some way she couldn’t put her finger on. Not just the exhaustion that seemed to claim him, but a general air of nervousness and anxiety that soon began to set her own teeth on edge.
Holly turned to the view outside the window to take her mind off it. Even if the man’s grief showed plainly on his face, it should be his private business.
As they rose up the curving road above the tree line, Holly admired the view. The hot pools had a cloud of mist hanging above them, signaling the warmth contained within. Farther along, the bright colors of the mini-golf course and bikes for hire tempted tourists into parting with their ready cash in exchange for having some fun.
As she relaxed back against the car seat, Holly wished for a moment that she was just a tourist, passing through. Everything would be fresh and clean and new. She’d lived there long enough now for the wonder of the township to turn commonplace. Loved, yes. Not ready to exchange for anything else, yes. Still losing its edge of beauty to the routine of the everyday.
“This is going to be a bit steep,” Marshall warned as he moved the car into a lower gear. “I guess we’ll find out if those cakes are packed in securely.”
Holly laughed, turning to check behind her as the car pointed upward. After a second’s adjustment, everything in the back seemed just fine.
Given how steep the road was, Holly felt grateful that her car had ended up in the shop after all. She wouldn’t like to test its engine like this if she’d been traveling alone.
After one last haul up the mountainside, the road leveled out, rising gently again instead of trying to drive straight upward. The soft scent of burned rubber came in through the vents, and Holly crossed her fingers that it was just normal wear and tear.
“Goodness,” she exclaimed, catching sight of the hotel rising above them around the next bend in the road. “Doesn’t it seem glorious perched up there?”
Marshall smiled at her. “It’ll look even better when we’re inside, peering out. Haven’t you visited up here?”<
br />
“Never had any reason to,” Holly admitted. “Though I now think I should have invented some excuse.”
As Marshall nosed the car around the final bend and down into the hotel’s parking lot, he laughed. “I suppose it’s that old saying about being well-traveled in your own town before you branch out overseas.”
That wasn’t an ‘old saying’ that Holly was familiar with, but she nodded at the sentiment. What a waste to spend money exploring the Alps in Europe when she could have traveled down the road and seen much better here.
“Do you know the way to the kitchen?” she asked, getting out of the passenger seat and walking around to the back of the black van.
“You won’t need them, will you?” Marshall asked, looking worried. “I’ve only booked out the halls that Mr. Willoughby indicated.”
Holly felt a stab of guilt that her innocent question had made Marshall appear so miserable. “No, I don’t need them. Sorry, it’s just from force of habit. When we’re catering an event, that’s usually where they put us.”
“Good.” Marshall gazed back at the view for a second before walking toward the entrance of the hotel. “Come with me, then, and I’ll show you where we’re set up. It’s not far, but I’ve been offered the help of the hotel staff if we need it for carrying.”
“Lead the way,” Holly said. “I’m sure that I’ll manage just fine.”
Holly had just emptied the last of the bakery goods from the trays onto the display stands when a pair of hands popped over her eyes.
“Guess who?” Wendy said in her ear, and Holly laughed.
“I don’t need to guess,” she said. “I’d know that voice anywhere.”
Wendy withdrew her hands. “Fine, spoil my fun. I don’t care.”
“You’re a sad woman if that’s what you think of as fun.”
Wendy poked her tongue out. “Have you finished up in here?”
“Just about,” Holly said, placing the final cupcake on the top of the stand. “And thanks to your blueberries, they all smell absolutely divine.”
“That’s good,” Wendy said. “I can stop feeling guilty about twisting your arm to buy them. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve put the proceeds of the unexpected sales straight toward a new freezer.”
“That’s good to hear,” Holly agreed. “Have you had much of a chance to check around up here?”
“Apart from a few bunches here—” Wendy flapped her hands at the floral arrangements “—most of my handiwork is in the other room.”
“Show me, then.” Holly hooked her arm through Wendy’s. “You know how much I love your displays.”
Wendy led the way through into the next room. Holly didn’t know what it was usually used for, but the Statesman Hotel had done an excellent job at turning it into a makeshift chapel. Long benches took on the appearance of pews, and a raised stage at the front of the room held a pulpit in pride of place.
Except, as Holly looked around the room, she couldn’t see a single bible or cross to denote a religion.
“Do you know who the celebrant will be?” she asked Wendy who shook her head.
“There won’t be one,” Marshall said from behind them, making Holly jump. She turned around. “Marshall, have you met Wendy? She’s the florist I recommended.”
Marshall bowed low. “I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with you on the phone. it’s nice to meet you in person.”
He took hold of Wendy’s hand and lightly brushed it with his lips. When the two women turned around to face the front of the hall again, Holly was bemused to note the shade of color that her friend had transformed to at the gesture.
“Mr. Willoughby recorded his own message to play at the ceremony,” Marshall continued. “He wasn’t a religious man, so he thought a stranger celebrating his life when he could do the same job himself, a bit strange.”
“I suppose that makes sense.” Holly glanced over at Wendy with a shrug. “It might be nice having a permanent copy for the family, too. They can replay it again and again.”
At that, Marshall gave a snort of amusement and appeared all the better for it. “I’m afraid that’s probably not possible,” he said. “I had the devil of a job getting a VCR to play the tape on as it was.”
Holly smiled broadly, then ducked her head to hide her amusement. “He recorded it a while ago, then?”
“Not so long ago he needed to use that equipment. I have the feeling that he recorded it that way just to cause us all a bit of trouble farther along. Still, it was made enough years back to be of concern,” Marshall said. “I’m actually quite worried at what will be on it and how out of date it will be.”
Holly turned to him in surprise. “Haven’t you watched it yet?”
The lawyer shook his head. “The will made it very clear that I wasn’t to preview it.” He sighed. “I have to say, that just made me a lot more nervous about its content. Mr. Willoughby always liked to keep his worst pranks completely secret.”
Holly shot Wendy a puzzled glance, then turned back to Marshall. “You think that he’s pranking his family at his own funeral?”
“Much as I admired and respected Mr. Willoughby, the man did have a very particular sense of humor. I’m very much afraid that a prank is exactly what is about to happen here.”
Nervous tension began to tie Holly’s stomach into knots. “And he specified that I be here?” she asked, receiving a firm nod in return.
“Well, your father and in his stead, you.”
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Wendy said, shaking her head in bemusement. “It almost makes me want to stay and view the whole thing.”
“You’re not staying?”
Wendy seemed as surprised at the question as Holly had that her friend was leaving before the ceremony.
“I’ve provided the flowers,” she said. “There’s no other reason for me to be here. I’m sure that Mr. Willoughby was a fine man, but I didn’t know him.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but that makes it seem disrespectful for me to stay.”
“You’re most welcome to attend if you want to,” Marshall hastily interjected. “Nobody would see it as a sign of disrespect.”
“I have absolutely no desire to,” Wendy assured him. “I’ve been to quite enough funerals of my own loved ones not to want to intrude into anybody else’s.”
Holly waved goodbye to her friend and returned to the previous room to check that everything was set up the way she wanted. The only things out of place were the trays, and after obtaining the van keys from Marshall, Holly stored those away out of sight.
As she pulled the van door closed, she breathed a sigh of relief. Done. And with an hour to spare, Holly noted as she checked her watch.
Since the alternative would be a long wait for an expensive taxi, Holly did intend to stay for the ceremony, especially now that Marshall had piqued her interest. To fill in time until then, she wandered around the side of the hotel to climb up the path running along its rear lawn.
The view from there seemed even more spectacular than from inside the hotel or the car. Perhaps it was the removal of the panes of glass that separated her from nature. Maybe it was just the crisp scent of a pine forest filling her nostrils that added another layer of perfection.
Whatever the reason, Holly thought she could happily build a house up here and stare out on that view every day without it ever growing old.
Only when she grew cold enough to venture back indoors did Holly give a quick wave to her sister in the bakery. Crystal would never be able to see her from this distance, but that was hardly the point.
When Holly strode back through the lobby, Amber was standing in the center of the room. She did a double-take Holly approached her, checking over her shoulder as though ensuring there was a path to retreat or escape.
“Hello,” Holly said, walking straight up to her with a hand out to shake. “We may have met, but we haven’t been introduced. I’m Holly.”
“Amber,” she returned, accepting Holly�
��s offered hand and pumping it weakly up and down three times before letting go. “Are you here for my father’s funeral?”
“Yes. Marshall Brent got in contact with me and said it was your father’s wish that our bakery caters his farewell.”
Amber glanced at Holly from the corner of her eye for a moment, then nodded. “You’re from the cupcake bakery, right?”
“Yes, that’s right. My father was Trevor Waterston.”
Amber gave a small snort. “My father used to love that place. Every time we came up here—and that could be as much as every weekend—he’d take us to the bakery for a lunchtime treat.” She shook her head at the memory. “I don’t know how Mom managed to keep us all slim with the amount of sugar Dad used to let us eat.”
“I’m glad you have happy memories of the place,” Holly said. “I’ve certainly brought along enough to make sure everyone leaves here stuffed full!”
The change in Amber’s face when she smiled was remarkable. Years dropped away from her features and she shone as brightly as a jewel. Then she peered around the room and sighed, returning to her previous glumness.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Amber said. “I’d like to offer up a whole lot of excuses about how I’m not usually like that and it’d just stress because of Dad but that doesn’t really work when everyone else is stressed, too. I’m the only one who acted badly and I’m sorry that it got to the point where you had to intervene.”
“Apology accepted.” Holly admired the courage it must have taken to offer it up. “I know it’s not a lot but I beat myself up a lot after my dad died, too. I’m sure that I spent a few weeks overreacting.”
Amber cleared her throat and nodded, jerking her head toward the chapel and the waiting room. “I suppose I should go in and pay my last respects.”
“I’ll let you get back to it,” Holly said, moving away.
She tensed as Sophie and Matthew walked into the lobby, heading straight toward Amber. Although Holly half-expected the same loud voices from yesterday to erupt, to her surprise, the young women hugged instead. Matthew looked a lot more confident now that no one around was yelling at each other. After tugging free of his mother’s hand, he began to run across the lobby, arms stretched out to either side in mimicry of a plane.
The Sweet Baked Mystery Series - Books 1-6 Page 33