Cinnamon and Sinfulness Page 10

  “I’ll be fine,” Tilly said with a wave, and Holly stepped back. Even if she felt that the woman wasn’t quite telling the truth, it wasn’t her place to insist that she accept help.

  “It felt good to dance again,” Simon said as they walked back to the marquee. “Like being back together. You know—” His voice broke off, and Holly turned to him with her eyebrow raised. Simon’s face was flushed but this time not from physical effort. It was from emotion. “I’ve been thinking over the past few months that I’ve made a terrible mistake, letting you go.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Holly stared at Simon in disbelief. The shock when he’d told her that he wanted a divorce was nothing compared to the rush of anger she felt now.

  “You didn’t ‘let me go,’ Simon,” she said in a heated voice. “You told me to leave, remember?”

  “I made a mistake.”

  Holly gave a snort of laughter, utterly absent of any touch of amusement. “If you did, it’s up to you to live with it now. Don’t come around here and put it on me.”

  She stalked off, wishing only that she could walk faster than the wet ground allowed. Her shoulders shook, and for a moment, Holly felt like screaming up at the sky.

  How dare he? After everything he’d put her through?

  Before her anger could get a chance to vent, Aidan stepped in front of her. Holly swallowed down her vexation and pasted a fake smile on her lips.

  “Thanks for performing a lovely ceremony at such short notice,” she said, each word barely making it through her tightened lips. “It was a wedding to remember.”

  Aidan gave a good-natured laugh. “Or one that we’d all rather forget, I think.” Then he smiled to soften the harsh words. “Up until the tragedy of Nina’s death, it was a very nice wedding.”

  “If you’re looking for Elvira and Tilly, I’ve just helped them into the car for them to get off home.”

  Aidan nodded, looking over her shoulder at the empty parking spot. “I guess that leaves me to escort Esmerelda home.”

  “The sooner, the better,” Holly said, remembering how the woman had almost derailed the entire ceremony.

  “Now, now. You two have so much in common that I’m surprised you don’t get on better.”

  “I’m not,” Holly said, trying to step past Aidan and get back to her friends.

  However, Aidan held a hand on her forearm to stop her. He cleared his throat and color started to flush his cheeks. “You know, when I was officiating the ceremony, I thought of how much I wanted us to be standing in Crystal and Alec’s position.”

  “Did you?” Holly stopped herself from rolling her eyes, but only just. Between Simon’s declaration that he’d made a mistake, and now this, it was definitely the day of exes tossing their former convictions up in the air.

  “I wondered if you—”

  Holly held up a hand to stop him. She didn’t need to listen to another plea about how if they gave it one more chance it would all turn out differently. She thought with longing of her dog Petey, waiting faithfully for her at home. Until a man could ignite the same glow of warmth that thinking of Petey did, Holly was steering well clear.

  “I’m going back into the marquee to visit with my friends and celebrate my sister’s marriage. I don’t want to hear about any of your regrets, just see if I can salvage a good time out of this awful day.”

  When Aidan didn’t move aside, Holly shook his arm off her and strode into the marquee. Although her good humor had dissipated in the past few minutes, catching sight of Wendy and Meggie waving to her was enough to reignite the spark.

  “I’ve saved you another piece of cake,” Meggie said, producing the overladen plate with a flourish. She leaned over and added in a whisper, “Though, I’m half hoping you’ll turn it down and leave me to eat it alone.”

  Holly laughed and held her right hand up, patting her stomach with her left. “I’m afraid I couldn’t force in another bite,” she said, happily complying. “You should go ahead and eat it though.”

  “Oh, yes,” Wendy added to the conversation with a giggle. “It’d be so rude if you took it back!”

  Meggie dug into the cupcake with gusto, ending up with a smear of chocolate sauce on the tip of her nose. When Holly indicated it to her, she shrugged. “I need to save something for later.”

  “Hey,” Willis said, coming up behind Holly. “Could I ask you something?”

  The awkward glance he cast toward Wendy and Meggie told Holly that the question he wanted to ask her would be better if she was alone. “Sure.”

  She followed him outside the marquee, where the sky was now brilliant sunshine, adding a touch of irony to the previous showers it had cast their way.

  “I know that you’re close to the sergeant,” Willis said, “and I just wanted to know if he’d told you why Phil might want Nina dead?”

  Holly was about to say that was none of their business, then caught the misery lurking in Willis’s eyes. If his relationship with Nina had been in what he considered a pause, then he must be in the depths of despair right now, wondering what had happened. The least she could do was fill him in on her own absurd theories.

  “I don’t know that he targeted Nina at all.” Holly pushed the sleeves of her borrowed sweatshirt up—now that the rain had stopped it was too hot for the direct sunshine. “Because Nina and Helen were dressed the same, I thought that Phil Clifford might just have mixed the two of them up.”

  Willis looked back in through the entrance to the tent, staring hard at Alec’s mother where she stood with her husband in a corner, with a miserable expression on her face.

  “Do you really think that’s possible?”

  Holly shrugged. “It’s possible. I don’t know if it’s true, but it made a lot more sense to me than the alternative.”

  “I suppose. It just seems such a coincidence, what with somebody trying to set fire to Nina’s theater last night. If the wind hadn’t been blowing the wrong way…”

  Willis trailed off, and it was Holly’s turn to be confused. “What do you mean? Phil’s motel was the place set on fire.”

  “Nina called me last night to say that the fire brigade had paid her a visit. Apparently, the arsonist started the fire in the alleyway between the two properties. They found a trail of kerosene leading up to the front door of the theater, but it didn’t quite reach. If it hadn’t been for the afternoon breeze sending the flames in the other direction, her theater would have burned to the ground.”

  “Oh, my.” Holly held a hand up to her mouth as it dropped open in shock. “I hadn’t realized that at all. I wonder if Phil blamed her for the fire, then. If someone was trying to target her establishment, but his is the property that ended up burning down?”

  “Doesn’t seem likely,” Willis said. “Surely, he would have been in sympathy with her. Unless he thought that she started the fire and he’d have to be bonkers to think she’d burn down her own place. Not after the effort she’s put in to get that business off the ground.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Wendy asked as she walked up to them. “Whatever it is, you should be aware that little pitchers have big ears.”

  She jerked her head over her shoulder, and Holly saw that she and Willis were the objects of some attention. She offered a grateful smile to Wendy, then stepped a few yards farther away from the tent.

  “If the arsonist was targeting Nina’s theater,” Holly said, her mind racing furiously to categorize the new information, “then who do you think would be most likely?”

  Willis narrowed his gaze. “That partner of hers who just arrived in town to renegotiate seems most likely to me.” He ran a hand through his hair, a bleak expression bleeding out onto his face. “But I don’t know for sure who that is.”

  “Well, if they were the ones after Nina then they’d have to be somewhere around here at the time she was shot.” Holly frowned at the ground. “We should take another look at those photographs and see if we can spot somebody we both don’t
know.”

  Rather than perform that activity with the marquee of guests looking on with keen interest, Holly caught back up to Wendy and asked her if she could get the PC to bring the laptop back in the house. Wendy peered at Holly with frank curiosity but to her credit hurried off to follow up on her request.

  After a few tense minutes of waiting inside the back door of the Masters’ house, Holly and Willis were rewarded with the appearance of the harried PC.

  “Thanks for coming in here, Graham,” Holly said, touching him lightly on the forearm. “We just wanted to have a look through the images that Gwen uploaded and see if there’s anybody stands out as not belonging to the wedding party.”

  “Where did your photographer get to anyway?” the PC asked as he opened the computer and queued up the images. “I thought the sergeant had specifically asked for her to stick around.”

  “I think she went back to the office,” Holly said. “I haven’t been able to get hold of her by phone. Crystal will be furious since she paid to have her take photos all day long.”

  Together, she and Willis quickly scanned through all the pictures on the hard drive. Although Holly had tried not to get her hopes up, she still felt a pang of disappointment as she was able to put a name, or an occupation, to every face. The only people new to her were Alec’s parents. Everyone else, Holly had bumped into at some time or other since her arrival back in Hanmer Springs over a year ago.

  “Well, I guess that was a long shot,” Willis said. “I wonder if she had any others stored up on her camera from after these.”

  “Just the ones she took of us inside,” Holly said. “But I think we would have noticed a stranger wandering through the middle of those!”

  “The sergeant would’ve known to ask questions, anyhow,” the PC said. “Matthewson’s got a lot of experience in these cases.”

  “He certainly does,” Holly agreed. As the PC bent to close up the laptop lid, she held it open. “Just one second. There’s something wrong with the order of these.”

  Holly looked through the images again, starting with the ones of the guests before she and Crystal had arrived. There were the shots of Nina talking with them in the driveway, and Phil Clifford scurrying off to the house to use the bathroom.

  “What do you mean?” Graham stared at Holly and began to shift from foot to foot. “I don’t know that you should be looking at these. They’re evidence, you know.”

  “They’re also the wedding photographs that my sister bought and paid for,” Holly said, flicking the constable’s hand aside when he reached to close the lid again. “Look at this.” She pointed to an image showing the empty seat where Phil Clifford had been sitting in the earlier shots.

  “What about it?” The PC peered at the frame closely. “It’s an empty chair.”

  “It’s an empty chair before the ceremony started,” Holly said emphatically. “Look—” she pointed again to the bottom corner of the image “— there are no petals on the ground or rice. And that’s the corner of Mrs. Hendrickson’s shoe.”

  Holly flicked on the trackpad and clicked through to another image, sitting four rows farther up the screen. “Here’s the same shoe but there’re rice and petals all over the floor. The order suggests that this empty one is taken later, but it’s clearly before the ceremony began.”

  “I don’t understand your point,” Graham said. “What does it matter if the pictures are out of order?”

  “That’s what Matthewson used to show that Phil Clifford wasn’t where he said he was,” Holly explained, and a light went off in the PC’s eyes.

  “But how did that happen?” He peered at the screen again. “The labels are all DSC date time—they’re automatic names, aren’t they?”

  “Yeah, they are.” Holly stamped her foot in excitement. “Somebody would have to purposefully rename all of them. Perhaps the same person who loaded them on there to begin with.”

  Willis looked at Holly with a careful glance. “How well did you know your photographer?”

  “Not at all.” Holly pulled her phone out of her pocket and showed the PC her email. “Isobel was originally booked in to do the photos, but she couldn’t make it due to a family crisis. She sent her assistant along instead.”

  Willis frowned. “And you think her assistant is Nina’s partner.”

  Holly shook her head in frustration, the words wanting to tumble out of her in a flood. “No. I think that the person who turned up to take the photographs isn’t the assistant at all. I think she just used the opportunity to take the shot at Nina.”

  Graham looked at her wide-eyed. “Where did she go?”

  “I don’t know,” Holly said, then turned on her heel and ran out of the house, heading back to the marquee. “But I think it’s time that we went down to the station!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sergeant Matthewson hung up the phone and rubbed his hand over his face. Holly felt a pang of guilt as she realized how tired the poor man seemed, yet here she was, bringing more trouble.

  “What did she have to say?” Holly asked after the pause went on longer than she thought reasonable.

  After Holly had spilled out every piece of conjecture that she, Willis, and Graham had thought up since they’d last set eyes on the sergeant, Matthewson had made the logical suggestion that instead of throwing around accusations, they just give Isobel a call. He’d volunteered for the task, leaving the others in no doubt where he placed their trustworthiness.

  “Isobel is having a difficult time down in Christchurch at the moment,” the sergeant said after continuing the silence for another minute. “Apparently, it’s touch and go whether her mother will last out the week.”

  Another thread of guilt tugged at Holly’s midriff, and she rubbed her hands over her upset stomach. It seemed obvious now that she and the others had got caught up in some wild fancy, perhaps intoxicated by the stress of the day.

  “She also said that although Gwen hasn’t been with her, or indeed in town for very long, she came highly recommended from her last employer. Isobel explained that Gwen had only left her previous job because of a relationship break-up that required her to make a new start somewhere else.”

  “Well, just because someone’s a good employee, doesn’t preclude any of the other situations we were talking about,” Willis protested. “I’m sure the prisons are full of murderers who were able to hold down a steady job.”

  Perhaps realizing that his words were at odds with facts he already knew, Willis colored as the sergeant stared him down.

  Matthewson waited for a beat, then continued, “Not only did Gwen Robertson come very highly recommended, but she also put a great deal of seed money into the business. Isobel was seeking someone who could eventually take over the photography studio, and Gwen was eager to get in on the ground floor. It doesn’t fit the facts that someone who has money to invest in a new venture would be the same person who was desperate enough to commit arson or even murder to take out their part ownership of a theater operation.”

  No, it didn’t.

  Holly sighed and placed her face in her hands. Standing in the Masters’ house, all the facts had come together to form a perfect picture. Now, one simple phone call had shattered the visage forever.

  “I’m so sorry,” she muttered in a low voice. “It appears that we’ve been wasting your time.”

  “Not to worry.” Matthewson shoved his chair back and stood, clearly indicating that their meeting was over. “If you come across any evidence, let me know.”

  Holly wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or if he put added emphasis on the word evidence. Either way, it didn’t matter. As she walked out of the police station beside Willis, Holly thought she could happily live her life without ever going in that place again.

  “Do you want me to walk you back to the wedding?” Willis asked her.

  Although Holly was grateful for the thought, right at that minute all she wanted was to go home and hide her face for a year or two. Long enough for
the events of the day to fall into the past behind her, and to forget the horrid details.

  Holly looked down at the fleecy sweatshirt she was wearing. The thick material had overheated her, and she needed to change into something lighter and more appropriate for what the weather had developed into. Once she’d done that, hopefully everything else would become more manageable.

  “I think I might just head home for the time being.” Holly held out her hand to Willis and stifled a smile at his apparent surprise. When he shook it, his palm was warm and dry. Much better than the limp noodles she sometimes received.

  “Well, I can at least walk you back to your door, then,” he said with a tentative smile. “You’d be doing me a favor. I’m not keen to be alone in case I run into someone who hasn’t heard the news. I don’t think I’m in any position yet to pass that dreadful information on.”

  Fair enough. Holly wasn’t in the mood to explain the day to anyone who asked either, and she hadn’t been nearly so close to Nina as it appeared that Willis had been.

  “You can walk me to my door,” she agreed, “and if you still want company then you can wait while I change and walk me back to the Masters’ house so I can return Derek’s clothes and check on my sister.”

  Willis fell into step beside her. “Sorry for making you come to the station with me. I felt sure that we were onto something.”

  “You didn’t make me.” Holly frowned for a moment, then laughed. “In fact, I’m fairly certain that I talked you into going. Or shouted out I was on my way there before running down the road, in any case.”

  “I still thought your ideas were spot on.”

  “And yours,” Holly agreed. “It’s a pity that they didn’t stack up so well in the sergeant’s eyes.” She gave Willis a quick sideways glance from beneath lowered lashes. “He can be such a stickler for truth and evidence. It really gets to be quite a drag.” Holly was pleased that Willis took the feeble joke good-naturedly.

  Her words raised a smile, even if it was so weak that a second later, it winked out like a dead lightbulb. “This your place?” he asked as she turned in at her gate.