Finally, when to carry on one moment more would have been ridiculous, Holly sat bolt upright. “Oh, goodness. I’ve forgotten to give Meggie a ring and tell her you were here. She’ll kill me.”
Hunching her shoulder over for privacy, Holly quickly made the call.
“Meggie will be here in five minutes.”
“That long?” Crystal said, looking at her watch.
Meggie must have run the whole way, judging by her arrival ninety seconds before time and the way she could barely catch her breath.
“I don’t want to miss a minute of it!” she said between pants. “What’s he told you so far?”
Matthewson gave her a quick rundown to catch her up.
“Who planted the empty packet in the bakery?” Meggie demanded. “That misdirection should be worth an extra charge, at least.”
“Dale admits to placing that in the bakery.”
“What about the box from our trash? Where did that disappear to?” Crystal asked.
The sergeant looked surprised. “Oh, that. We never told you. Derek thought after the argument with his dad on the street, it might look suspicious if you had those in your rubbish, so he stole them to protect you.”
“Derek!” Holly looked over at Crystal, who shrugged.
“One day, I’ll tell that boy that he nearly gave me a heart attack by doing that.” Crystal shook her head. “Seriously, when you looked in the trash, and it was empty, I started to think I must’ve done it and just blocked the whole crime out.”
“Don’t be too hard on the lad,” Holly said. “He nearly sent you skipping around the bend to crazy town, but it was with the best of intentions.”
“Well, at least wait until his dad’s recovered,” the sergeant said. “Apparently, his father is awake and aware this morning, for the first time since.”
“Really?” Crystal clapped her hands. “That’s such good news. It would have been devastating for him, otherwise.”
“We’ll have a good few questions regarding Brian Masters’ business affairs when he’s back on his feet, but yes, it is good news. Lucky, too.” He glanced at Holly. “If you and Meggie hadn’t called in that tip when you did, we never would have caught up with him. Although we’ll probably never be able to prove it, there was a bottle of peanut oil in a container of wet wipes. We think he might have been taking another shot at dispatching his debt.”
“That’s awful!”
“People do some terrible things when they’re desperate,” Sergeant Matthewson agreed.
“What about the accounts?” Crystal asked. “Now that you know he’s been fiddling them, does that mean we get back the money he stole?”
The sergeant shrugged, but his face told another story. Gone. All the money that Humphrey had syphoned off to pay his gambling debts would be gone.
“Why did you arrest my sister?” Holly asked. “You said at the time you had new information. Where did that come from?”
Matthewson sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It came straight out of the lying mouth of Humphrey Wilkins. He told us about your fight with Brian Masters on the street, about your drug habit and how close your business was to being repossessed and the two of you kicked out on the street.”
“And you believed him?” Meggie said, jabbing her finger accusingly at the sergeant’s chest.
“He believed it because it’s true,” Crystal said. “Maybe not in the way that the toe-rag spun it, but everything he told you checked out. That he was the cause of the worst of it was the only thing he omitted.”
The sergeant shook his head. “I can’t believe how easily I let him fool me. Not to mention, how I didn’t spot Dale and his bad habits. He was right under my nose.”
“Sometimes, that’s a difficult place to see clearly.” Holly shifted in her chair. “He fooled me too and nearly got me killed.”
A flash of the terror she’d felt as the car plummeted down the hill recurred, and Holly shivered. “At least everything is sorted now. We can get back to picking up the pieces and getting on with things.”
“I hope that the press doesn’t make too much of a field day out of this. Full disclosure I’m okay with, but if they play it up for too long, the whole township will suffer.”
At that, Holly laughed.
“What?” Matthewson squinted at her.
“There are hundreds of far more horrible things happening around the world right now, than this mess of a conspiracy. Sure, it’s a big deal for Hanmer Springs, and the odd tourist might think twice, but I just don’t think it’s going to be the lead story anywhere. Not unless the whole world takes a hiatus on horribleness.”
Holly stretched and got up from her seat to fetch a fresh cup of coffee. With it warming her hands she turned around, leaning her back against the bench.
“The problem is that it’s so lovely here, anything like this seems far worse than it would in the real world. Believe me, that’s a good thing!”
“I hope you’re right then,” Matthewson said, taking her movement as a cue to leave. “I’ll keep you updated with anything that affects you. Otherwise, it’s back to normal as quickly as we can manage.”
After he left, Crystal looked downcast, tracing her finger along a curiously dark line in the stained wood of the table. “I’m glad to be out of prison, but that’s not going to help much with the bakery. We’re still financed up to the hilt, and it’ll take forever to work our way out from under the debt.”
Meggie’s shoulders slumped. “Don’t remind me. I was really hoping when we turned up to Humphrey’s last night, he’d have a stack of cash on him we could divvy up and return to its rightful owners. I can’t believe that it’s all just gone. Even when we tracked down the culprit, it leaves us both in just as bad a state.”
“I suppose that means that selling the house, and the bakery is back on the table?” Crystal asked, looking at Holly.
Holly frowned down at what was left in her cup. “Maybe.” She shrugged. “It’s not a decision that we need to make today. Since we’ve excused ourselves from our duties, what did you feel like doing? Did you ever make it onto that hike the other day?”
At the suggestion, Crystal feigned a collapse on the table. “You’re joking? You want me to traipse into a forest for hours on this little sleep?”
“I’m going to the pools,” Meggie said. “If we’re both going bankrupt and losing everything, I want one last day to remember how spectacular this town felt when I first arrived.”
She clapped her hands together. “So, for today, I’m a tourist. Impress me.”
“I still haven’t made it to the pools,” Holly mused. “And I’ve been living just a few streets away for weeks. That’s absolutely unforgivable!”
“Well, fetch your togs then, lovey. We’ll make a day of it.”
Holly went to fetch her swimsuit, calling back over her shoulder. “Or fall asleep in the warm water in ten minutes flat!”
When the three of them relaxed in the hottest pool, it turned out Holly won that bet.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Holly and Crystal were both in the back of the bakery the next day when a tentative tap came on the front door. A female voice called out in case of a misunderstanding, “Knock, knock.”
Holly walked out into the shop, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves. The last had been covered with a thick layer of ganache where she’d tried to flatten out the edge of a cupcake determined to be lopsided. Licking off the remains wasn’t the best advertisement for hygiene.
“Wendy! Good to see you.”
“I hope I’m not intruding,” the woman said in a shy voice. “I just got a fright yesterday when I saw the shop was closed. I wanted to stop by and check that everything was okay.”
“Of course, you’re not intruding. Anytime you want to stop by, you’re most welcome, whether you’re buying anything or not.” Holly waved her to the table in the corner. “We had a few tasks to sort out with the police and far too little sleep, that’s all.”
“That’s a nasty business,” Wendy frowned. “I don’t like to think of all that going on in a family that my Sheila is about to join.”
“On the other hand,” Holly said. “You could look on it as that poor, unfortunate Derek getting to add to your lovely family, instead.”
“Speaking of which”—Wendy reached into her bag—“I’ve got the approximate numbers for the wedding. I’m not sure how many flavours of cakes or things you have but I thought you’d be able to sort that end out for me.”
Holly picked up the folded note that Wendy slid across to her and opened it up. She kept her expression very still, just nodding. When she felt confident she could speak, Holly said, “That looks fine. I’ll just check with Crystal. She’s out the back baking at the moment.”
On shaky legs, Holly scampered into the rear of the bakery and leaned against the wall. “Look at this,” she said, holding the note out with a shaking hand.
“What is it?” Crystal asked, taking it from her. “Is this the amount of money that Humphrey owes us?”
“No,” Holly squeaked. “It’s the number of guests coming to Derek and Sheila’s wedding. These are the cupcakes we need to make.”
Crystal stared at the paper in disbelief. “No,” she said finally. “You’ve got that wrong. Is she still out there?”
Holly nodded.
“I’ll check with her. Watch the oven for a moment.”
Holly knelt down in front of the oven, watching the cakes inside start their slow creep up the tin walls as they expanded in the hot air.
“Okay.” Crystal returned and sagged against the wall. “You’re right. They’ve invited two thousand guests to a wedding.”
Crystal reached a hand up to her forehead. “I think I’m running a fever from panic already.”
“How do they even know that many people? This wedding must be costing her a fortune. Oh, no!” Holly raised a hand up to her mouth.
“What? What’s the matter?”
“Meggie offered to do the wedding party’s hair and makeup for half price. I wonder how many that will be?”
Crystal’s look of horror started to dissipate. She pulled a notepad toward her and began to make the calculations.
“Right. We’ll need to start baking around the clock three days out, so we’ll start with the long-keeper varieties and freeze them if we need to. Then we do the shortest-term flavours on the night before.”
She quickly totted up a few columns and passed it over to Holly to check. The figures looked right. “That’ll do it. We’ll have to keep our fingers crossed that nothing goes wrong in the meantime.”
“We can’t afford it,” Crystal said bluntly. “What with the losses we’ve already taken, even if we sold the business and the house now, we might still end up owing money. We can’t add the amount of ingredients we’d need to the order. I’m scared to death the electricity company is going to renege on our current agreement and the power will go off at any minute.”
“I’ll take care of that,” Holly said. She twisted the folded paper between her fingertips, solidifying the decision that she’d been making from the first moment she pulled back into town.
“I want to move here permanently.”
“That’s lovely,” Crystal said. “But I don’t understand how that helps us out, right now.”
“I have a partnership share in a legal business and half the proceeds from a house we get offers for every week, even though it’s not on the market. When I invest that all in the business, then we’ll be operating from profit. Even if it takes a while for those sales to come through, the bank will be happy to offer bridging finance when they see how much it’s worth.”
The relief at saying it caught Holly by surprise. She’d been thinking cutting off the road that could lead her back to her old life would hurt, or even plunge her down into sadness.
It didn’t. All Holly felt was the hope for the future filling up her heart.
What was it that Dale had told her the other night? “Go home, Holly.”
Well, here she was. Home.
If you enjoyed this story, you can catch up with all of Holly and Crystal Waterston’s adventures in the Sweet Baked Mysteries - Books 1-6
Pushing Up Daisies
Tea Shop Cozy Mystery Book One
Chapter One
“Don’t worry about that,” Willow Foxglove said, ushering her best-friend Harmony toward the front door. “You can return it when you want to. It’s not like I’m going to hunt you down and force you to pay late fees.”
Harmony turned on the threshold, looking back. “But I feel so bad—”
“Nonsense.” Willow started to pull the door shut, despite her friend turning back to face her. “When have I ever given you a reason to worry about returning books on time? I’m not a librarian.”
“No.” Harmony gave a small shrug and a giggle, stepping back. “You’re far too loud for that!”
Willow started to relax as her friend backed up another step. If Willow could say goodbye right this second, she’d have just enough time left to replace the herbs with freshly cut stems from the garden. After that, she could have the tea things poured, ready and waiting for her guest to arrive at six o’clock. Or thereabouts. He’d been tardy a few times recently.
As Harmony stepped toward her again, Willow hoped today was one of those days her guest was running late. Usually, her best friend’s company was a treasured thing, but today…well. Today, it seemed like Harmony was overstaying her welcome.
Almost suspiciously overstaying.
“Bye,” Willow said, hurriedly closing the door before Harmony could manage to get back inside.
She leaned her forehead against the door, feeling her heart race in her chest as she listened to the sounds of her friend leaving. As soon as the familiar clunk of the car door came, Willow stepped back and smoothed down the front of her dress.
She wanted to change before her guest arrived, but that would have to wait until after she’d visited the garden.
From long years of habit, Willow pulled on an apron from the back of the kitchen door as she went outside. It had never been used for cooking, but she liked to keep her clothes as clean as possible from the potential garden stains, so she often wore it outside the house. Gloves, too. They protected her soft hands from the sharp barbs of the wild roses or the occasional nettle.
Willow closed her eyes and tipped her head back to feel the last full rays of the sun. It would be heading over the yardarm soon—at this time of year, it ran away quicker and quicker each day.
There was nothing in the world Willow loved more than her garden. She knelt down and pulled the wide-open buds of chamomile toward her. The last of the season. After a second’s inhalation to appreciate their full scent, Willow snipped off three large daisy heads. The sharp green tang of cutting filled the air. Sweet and sad. Willow plucked a weed out near the path’s edge before it could take root and flourish. Next up, a few sprigs of fresh mint.
Willow couldn’t resist twisting one of the mint leaves between her forefingers, then burying her nose into her cupped hand, inhaling the delicious scent.
A pest—her mother had taught her growing up. Mint would get into everything and anything if given half the chance. The lessons had been heeded well by Willow, and her stock of mint was in a separate bed with wooden framing buried deep in the ground on each side, to box it in below the soil.
With a small groan, Willow got to her feet, then looked over her shoulder to check that nobody was around to hear. Far more disturbing than finding the first gray in her honey-blonde hair had been realizing that she made a sound every time she got up from the couch. That was old age—everybody knew it—and the one sign that distressed Willow above all else.
She walked back to the side of the house, rinsing her snips under the garden hose, then wiping the blades with a soft cloth before hanging them up in the shed. Each tool had its spot, marking out in white paint on the old wood. Satisfied that everything was in its pl
ace and all was right in the world, Willow walked back inside with her treasures from the garden.
There was a drying rack always hanging in the kitchen, and she quickly pinned up the herbs to that. The flowerheads and leaves Willow would use for the tea tonight were already dried and ready. Take one thing out and replace it—that was the secret to a well-prepared life.
Only a few minutes to go now. Willow raced into her bedroom, untying her dress as she went, ready to plunge her arms into the new one laid out on the bed.
When the knock at the door came, Willow raised her head, eyes wide as she glanced at the clock. Early? It seemed so unlike her guest.
Still…
Willow zipped up her dress and flung on a crocheted cardigan as a barrier against the encroaching cold. The sunlight had faded to the very edge of the window—all heat gone. She flicked on the lights to the room as she went out, then ignored the second knock at the door to come back and turn the switch off again. Lights on in the bedroom was an open invitation Willow wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to offer. Not at this early stage.
The hall light was safe though, as was the living room and outside bulb that hung directly above her front door. A split-second rest with her fingers wrapped around the front door handle, then Willow opened it with a cheery smile.
“Hello, love. Thought you must be stuck out back or something, it took you so long to answer.”
Willow’s second-best friend, Reg Garnett, walked in through the door, not waiting for an invitation. With a worried glance along the street to reassure herself that her actual invited guest’s arrival wasn’t imminent, Willow closed the door and turned to Reg with a slightly more strained smile.
“It’s a bit late for you to call, isn’t it?”
Reg ignored the chastisement hidden in her words and walked through into the lounge, picking up a china figurine of a penguin as he went through.
Willow’s anxiety began to creep up an internal scale, a small buzzing starting at the base of her skull.
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