Cinnamon and Sinfulness Page 8
“Gwen?” Holly called out when a minute or two had passed with no response. “Are you okay in there?”
A grunt and a smash followed the query and Holly pushed open the door, afraid that the photographer had somehow managed to hurt herself.
She had, but only in a bid for escape.
“What on Earth do you think you’re doing?” Holly called out as she lifted Gwen up off the floor. The window to the bathroom stood wide open, collecting the light rainfall that had replaced the earlier downpour. There were boot marks on the vanity unit surrounding the sink, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess that they’d exactly match the size of Gwen’s feet.
“I just want to get the hell out of here,” the woman grumbled as she smoothed her hands down her hips and legs, apparently searching for how much damage she’d done in the fall. “I don’t know about you, but being trapped inside a house or a marquee with a cold-blooded killer isn’t top of my bucket list.”
“Nobody likes it,” Holly said with some sympathy. “But the sergeant ordered us to stay put, so I think you’re better off in the long run following his suggestion. Besides, what are the chances that it’s any one of us that pulled the trigger?”
“I don’t know,” Gwen said in a huff. “I don’t really know any of you, to be honest.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, the weapon is sitting in a plastic bag inside Sergeant Matthewson’s jacket pocket, so if anybody wants to kill you, they’ll have to find a new way.”
“Great.” Gwen appeared to decide she was sufficiently uninjured that she could walk back into the lounge and shoved her way past Holly. “That’ll be a great comfort if I end up picking up my liver after being stabbed with a great big knife.”
The words struck Holly’s funny bone, and she started to giggle as she followed along behind Gwen. After a second, the photographer seemed to see the absurdity of the situation and joined in with her laughter.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know I shouldn’t be trying to get out of here, but I have to admit, my anxiety is running sky high at the moment.”
“You don’t have to explain to me.” Holly shook her head, the urge to giggle dissipating. “It’s so awful that I don’t know how to feel. This morning, I thought the worst thing I’d have to face today was meeting my exes at the church. Now, this whole mess is so terrible that it’s either laugh or cry.”
“You can say that again.”
“This whole mess is so terrible—”
Gwen held up her hands and groaned. “Stop. That joke must be a thousand years old.”
“An oldie but a goodie.” Holly walked ahead of Gwen back through to the lounge. “Look who I found out wandering. A photographer in need of some wet subjects.”
“Very wet subjects,” Crystal said with a laugh. “Where do you want us, camera-guru? Your wish is our command.”
Gwen directed them into some classic wedding poses. The juxtaposition of a sopping wet bride lifting up one stockinged leg to reveal a bright blue garter looked even more staged and ridiculous than usual. Holly was confident that Crystal would get great mileage out of the shots once the horror of the day was long past.
The thought of what had happened suddenly recurred in full force to Holly and she suppressed a shiver that had nothing to do with the wet dress clinging to her body. Poor Nina. By now, her body would be halfway back to Christchurch, waiting for a date with the police pathologist based there.
“Are you okay?”
Holly shook herself and looked up into Willis Mathieu’s kind eyes. “I’m fine,” she lied, then changed her mind and shrugged instead. “I just thought of Nina and got a bit upset.”
“Yeah, there’s a touch of that going around,” Willis said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe that she was striding around out there this morning, bossy as usual, and now she’s gone forever.”
“Hey, you two. Get over here.” Crystal beckoned to the two of them. “We don’t want an album full of just the two of us. It’ll look like we’re such losers that no one else turned up for the wedding.”
Holly forced a smile onto her face, an expression that soon became natural as her sister’s natural enthusiasm and jollity passed across like a happy virus. They posed in ever-more ridiculous and staged positions—also roping in Derek and Brian—until finally Crystal had enough and called a halt.
“That’ll do,” she announced, hitching up her skirts and grabbing a set of sweats from the pile that Derek had left out for them. “I’m going to get changed before I catch a cold. Not to mention, I’m starving. If your offer of a plate is still up for grabs—” she nodded to Brian “—then I’ll take you up on it.”
“Of course.” Brian turned to the tables that were groaning with food. “I’ll have something ready and waiting by the time you come back.”
“And we need to cut the wedding cake,” Crystal yelled back over her shoulder. “I’m not waiting until Sergeant Matthewson decides he’s caught his culprit before I get to do that. In fact—” she turned around at the doorway with a grin “—we can buck tradition and do that first. I fancy having dessert and then working my way back to the main course.”
Holly was a bit surprised at that sentiment, Crystal had spent so long working in the bakery that her sweet tooth seemed gone forever, but then she glanced over at Gwen and nodded. The photographer looked like her itchy feet had come back. Better to get the photo of the cake being cut than wait around for another hour or more and lose the chance of a professional shot.
“I’ll change upstairs if that’s okay,” Holly said, another shiver striking her, this time just from the cold and wet clothes.
Derek nodded in agreement and waved her upstairs, so Holly took a pair of pants and a top from the pile and quickly ran up to the first floor.
She couldn’t resist a glance out of the window once she was done changing. The weather had relented somewhat, and the rain was now just an occasional spatter of drizzle. As a result, some of the guests had wandered to the main entrance to the marquee, and hovered close to the outside.
Holly could imagine the level of panic that would raise in Matthewson and allowed herself a sympathetic smile. Any group of people would be hard to control for an extended period of time. Even though it had only been an hour or so since the ceremony ended, the crowd would be getting antsy.
Especially since one amongst them might be the killer.
In the time that had elapsed since the dreadful event, Holly had surmised that since the weapon was discovered outside, the person responsible for Nina’s death might well have run away and hidden before anybody even realized she was dead.
The time that elapsed between the likely time of the gunshot and when Holly went to check on the injured woman was certainly long enough for a murderer to get well away from the scene of the crime.
No wonder that Sergeant Matthewson was eager to keep a record of the wedding photos. No matter if they were exciting or set the scene of the ceremony to perfection—what would really be of concern was who among the guests was visible in the early frames and missing later on.
The large green hat belonging to Alec’s mother came bobbing out of the tent entrance, then ducked back in again. Perhaps the woman had decided that the weather wasn’t as clear as she’d thought, after all.
It was odd that his mom had chosen the exact same outfit as Nina. How dreadful would that be? To dress the same as the woman who had been felled by a bullet? It was on a par with having the name Sarah Connor when a terminator was out and about.
Had the killer gotten the two women confused?
Holly ducked back away from the window as though the guests below would be able to read the concerning thoughts on her face. Was that a possibility?
When Alec had called that morning to say that his parents refused to attend the ceremony, it had seemed like a joke. With a dead body dressed in the same outfit as Alec’s mother on the way to the morgue, it suddenly didn’t appear so farfetched that someone might w
ant to harm the elderly couple.
What was it that Brian had said? Alec’s parents had let the business go on far longer than any sensible business person should have. They’d racked up debts and caused a lot more harm than if they’d pulled the plug on the company earlier.
Holly could well understand the drive that led a person to keep a business going long after the writing was on the wall. When she’d returned to Hanmer Springs, her sister had been involved in the exact same type of enterprise.
Although the downturn of their bakery business had turned out to be due to an unscrupulous accountant and a conspiracy involving a local poker ring, it could just as easily have been mismanagement and a simple imbalance between incomings and outgoings. In that case, to keep it going to the point where they lost the family home to the increasing debt as well would have added tragedy to loss.
Was the fire at the motel last night a mysterious coincidence or, as Alec’s father seemed to believe, a failed attempt to kill them.
Holly shook herself and finished changing out of her wet clothes. It was a glorious feeling to strip off the sodden fabric and switch it for something fluffy and dry. Wearing sweatpants to a wedding might be frowned on in the higher social circles, but it certainly felt a lot better than the alternative.
Just before she headed downstairs, Holly stole another glance out the window. It felt wrong to stare down at people who had no idea that she was looking out upon them, but she couldn’t help herself. Again, there was the flash of green from Alec’s mother’s hat, and again it set Holly’s mind to wondering.
She turned to trek downstairs again and decided that she would put her query to the sergeant when he next poked his head in to check on them. If her idea was just a silly string of coincidence and fancy, then Holly would gladly let Matthewson tell her so, just to set her mind at rest.
Chapter Thirteen
As Holly came back downstairs, she saw Crystal and Alec snuggling on the couch. With the change in clothing, they appeared to be a couple relaxing on any standard weekend rather than newlyweds. It was like being offered a glimpse into their future. Holly could imagine that for weekends stretching into the unknown years ahead, she’d be greeted with a similar sight when she visited.
An awkward hollow feeling came over her, an impossible nostalgia for something that hadn’t yet happened.
Willis, Derek, and Brian were crowded together on the other sofa while Gwen was working away at the computer, finally doing as she’d been told. Holly walked up behind her just in time to see a snap from inside the marquee, before Crystal and Simon had walked up the aisle.
“That looks great,” Holly said, and Gwen jumped a mile, apparently not having heard her clump into the room like a baby elephant.
“You’re not meant to see these until the bride has a chance to select the ones fit for public viewing.” Gwen clicked the minimize button, and the images shrank away, leaving a receipt sitting on the screen.
Holly didn’t mean to snoop, but her eyes were already staring straight at the laptop, so it wasn’t her fault that she was suddenly reading about the purchaser of a gun matching the one that Sergeant Matthewson had whisked away. A split second later, Gwen shut the lid, and Holly turned away, pretending that she hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary.
Crystal patted the seat next to her on the couch and Holly went over. No matter how much she might pretend, though, the name still hung in her mind.
The man who’d purchased the gun from Willis was Phil Clifford. The motel owner whose livelihood had burned to a cinder the night before. A fire that Alec’s parents believed was the result of an attack against them.
“Do you feel like having something to eat?” Crystal asked. She patted her own stomach with a frown, “I’m afraid I’ve been too nervous to attempt anything, but the spread looks lovely.”
Holly agreed and looked over at the tables full of food. With the name flashing in the back of her mind, though, she’d never felt less like eating in her life.
I need to tell this information to Sergeant Matthewson, Holly decided. Phil is out in that tent, a threat to all those people. Even if the police don’t have a warrant, the sergeant deserves to know the truth so he can protect them.
“I might go over to the marquee and check on Meggie and Wendy,” Holly said suddenly, standing up from the sofa. “I feel terrible leaving them over there.”
“They’ll be fine,” Crystal said with a surprised laugh. “I’ve never met women more prepared to fend for themselves in my life than those two.”
“Still…” Holly said, trailing off as her belabored mind failed to come up with another excuse.
“I’ll come over with you if you like,” Willis said as he got to his feet. “I wouldn’t want you out there on your own.”
“If you’re going,” Crystal said, also standing, “then we should all go. I don’t think Matthewson will be pleased to see any of us though.”
“I would like to check on my mom and dad,” Alec agreed. “They were paranoid enough about attending today before poor Nina ended up the way she did.”
“Well, if you’re going, then I think we all should,” Derek said. “It’s no use some of us staying here and others leaving. If we’re going to be in trouble with the sergeant, then we all should be.”
With their destination agreed upon, Holly led the way out the back door, this time equipped with an umbrella, thanks to Brian and Derek’s generosity. She shared with Gwen, Alec with Crystal and the Masters crowded together under a third.
At the door to the tent, Holly’s forthright step suddenly faltered. She really didn’t want a telling off from Matthewson to add to an already grim day. Luckily, he was seated in the middle of a group, so busy asking questions and listening to the answers that he barely noticed their arrival. Graham, the PC, hurried over with a quick nod to his boss and pulled them over to one side of the tent.
“What’s happened? Is everything okay?” he asked, sounding out of breath.
“Everything’s fine,” Holly reassured the young man. “We just wanted to check that all our friends were okay. It didn’t seem right to stay inside the house when all the wedding guests were trapped inside this marquee.”
“Well, I suppose that the sergeant will want a word with you before too long,” Graham warned. “But in the meantime, you should dig into the roast meat. The company is going to pack up shortly, and the pork sandwich with stuffing and crackling is absolutely divine.”
Holly nodded and laughed, but her eyes were scanning the tent for her friends. Although she’d used Wendy and Meggie as an excuse—her real purpose being to get the sergeant alone and pass on her new information—she now wanted to ensure they were doing okay. When she spotted them trapped in what looked like a one-sided conversation with Old Man Jack from the dairy, Holly waved and quickly hurried over to their rescue.
“How are you two doing?” she asked. When Jack looked affronted at being missed from her equation, Holly gave his forearm a quick squeeze and asked him if he’d had anything to eat. “I just heard that the caterers are heading off shortly.”
Jack obligingly wandered off to check out the sandwiches on offer while Holly gave each of her friends a welcome hug.
“We didn’t know what to think when you didn’t come back,” Meggie scolded. “Until the sergeant confirmed you were okay, we thought that something dreadful must have happened.”
“I’m so sorry,” Holly said, appalled at the worry she’d accidentally caused. “I didn’t think. Derek and Brian refused to let us come back to the tent with a gunman on the loose.”
Wendy looked over at the two men in question. “They don’t look particularly concerned any longer.”
“I found the gun,” Holly admitted, then blushed at the memory. “Or, rather, I trod it into the mud.”
“Somehow, you do always seem to entangle yourself right in the midst of any investigation,” Wendy observed. “But I’m glad that you’re okay. It’s also reassuring to know that th
e weapon isn’t still out there.” She shook her fist at Sergeant Matthewson in a quick show of emotion but stopped since he was too far out of earshot to understand what she meant. “It would’ve been nice if someone in the know had passed on that tidbit of information.”
“Quite,” Holly said. “I hate to think of you all standing out here, thinking someone could shoot you at any moment.”
“They’d be a fool to do that in this crowd,” Meggie said with a stern voice. “We would have torn the culprit limb from limb.”
“Or at the very least, sat on him so he couldn’t do any more harm,” Wendy added. “I’m not sure that we’ve got the upper body strength for dismemberment.”
“Do you know if the sergeant is having any luck in finding out who did it?” Holly asked in a quiet voice.
Wendy gave a single shake of her head and glanced around to ensure that nobody was paying them any attention. “No, I don’t think he has the slightest idea.”
“Or,” Meggie added, “if he has, he’s playing it very close to his chest.”
“How is Crystal doing?” Wendy glanced over at the couple who Holly was pleased to see was having something to eat. “It must have been a double shock for her, poor lamb. What a day.”
“It’ll certainly go down in the history books.” Holly shook her head, then turned back to the two women. “She seems to be coping okay, but she’s been tough to read the past couple of days. I keep giving her news that I think will tip her into a frenzy and instead, she’s been perfectly serene.”
“Thank goodness,” Wendy said with some force. “I’ve dealt with enough Bridezillas in my line of work to be grateful to find a steady head on a customer. It’s nice, isn’t it? It must mean that she’s just happy to be married to the man of her dreams.”
At those words, something finally clicked into place in Holly’s mind. Her sister’s calm for the past few days had seemed so unlike Crystal that Holly had struggled to understand. Wendy connected it all together until she felt sure that was exactly how her sister must feel.