Strawberries and Suffering Page 9

  Esmerelda gave another sniff from her almighty shnozz, but Aidan’s compliment teased a smile from her lips, which was obliterated a second later as she dug into the feast in front of them with gusto.

  The wedding meal should have been a choice of two entrees and two mains with the wedding cupcakes serving everyone as dessert. Instead, the guests had the luxury of helping themselves to both the Beef Wellington and the Grilled Salmon, likewise the starters of Chicken Tenderloins and thin slices of melt-in-your-mouth Pork Belly.

  “This food is so good,” Emma exclaimed, checking everyone had served themselves before helping herself to seconds. “I think they should do this at every wedding. A buffet of food right on the table.”

  Holly agreed around a mouthful of deliciousness, nodding because she couldn’t speak.

  After they’d demolished most of the food, William excused himself to slip away. Emma’s eyes followed him to the double doors, an expression of sadness melting through the joy that had been there earlier. Holly wanted to reassure the girl—that William would come to his senses or that there’d be other men—but felt awkward given their short acquaintance.

  You’re not even meant to know why she’s sad, Holly scolded herself. Unless you want to add gossip to Emma’s list of things to worry about, leave well enough alone.

  Thankfully, the universal symbol of a speech about to be made rang out—the tapping of a knife against a wine glass. The caterers had left that to tableside self-service, too, placing bottles of wine at every occupied station so that the guests could help themselves.

  Crystal and Wendy suddenly appeared, dragging their chairs to Holly’s table. With the food over, there was no reason to stay in place, and the occupants all shuffled so they had room to sit side-by-side.

  “Those glasses are family heirlooms,” Wendy said, nodding at the flute in Derek’s hand. She leaned forward, “We brought them in so that his glass couldn’t get mixed up with any others. He doesn’t drink, you know.”

  Holly and Crystal did indeed know that and shared a quick glance.

  “They’re charming,” Holly said. “I like the gold trim around the top.”

  “My granddaddy visited the shop on Morano where they were made,” Wendy said. “He traveled all around Italy after the war. My dad said he was always complaining about arriving too late for active service, but he enjoyed the peacekeeping a lot more than he would have liked war.”

  “I used to love watching glassblowing on TV when I was younger,” Crystal said. “My dad said I was named after the most expensive set of glasses he and Mom owned. Whenever they had glassblowing on the screen, he’d called out—look at that! They’re making themselves a baby Crystal!”

  Holly had experienced something similar each Christmas and ducked her head to hide a smile at the memory.

  “I’d like to thank everyone for being here today,” Derek said, standing with his special glass raised in the air. “It’s the first time I’ve literally had a captive audience.”

  There was a smattering of good-humored laughter, but as the speech continued onward, Holly’s thoughts spiraled inward. Her own reception had been held in a large marquee on the lawn. Although it was dry on the day, the rain had set in the week before so that all the women’s stilettos kept getting stuck in the soft earth underfoot.

  “To my bride, the love of my life, Sheila Tahoe.” Derek raised his glass at his new bride and then drank it down, the guests all doing likewise.

  “Hear, hear,” Aidan called out, earning another round of laughter and applause.

  “Should I say something?” Wendy asked with a worried frown. “There should be more speeches, shouldn’t there?”

  Holly laughed and leaned forward to pat Wendy on the shoulder. “I don’t think there’s anything about this wedding that’s following the usual patterns, do you?”

  Wendy gave a burst of surprised laughter and shook her head. “No. I definitely didn’t think this was how the day would go. I don’t know why I spent all that time and effort worrying and planning.”

  “Because you wanted your daughter to have a beautiful day of celebration to remember,” Holly said. “And no matter what, you’ve achieved that goal.”

  The bride and groom made their way across to the trays of cupcakes and Holly felt a guilty twang. She should have mounted them on the fancy spiral holders that she’d begged off the luxury hotel in town. Then she shrugged. Let it go. The cupcakes were still lovely, still well-decorated, and holding together despite the damp and the unexpected delays.

  Around them, sensing an opportunity, guests whipped out their phones to take the famous shot. Holly caught a flash out of the corner of her eye. Turning, she realized it was a car pulling up outside and not a mobile phone or camera.

  “Excuse me.” Holly stood up and quickly wended her way back through the crowd. It must be either the police or the paramedics, here sooner than she’d thought. She felt a momentary embarrassment for the state they’d left the crime scene and the body, then Holly shook her head. It hardly mattered. What was important right now was making sure that Arnold was finally seen to and given the dignity he deserved.

  A rhythmic clapping started up with the guests, and Holly turned almost at the door, to see the happy couple shoving cupcakes into each other’s mouths.

  No. Not each others’. Just Sheila filling up Derek’s mouth. Her lips remained clenched together.

  A general cheer went through the crowd as Derek ate his way through the offering in a few big bites. Then the clapping started up again—one problem they hadn’t foreseen. The cakes were small enough that the same ritual could play out over and over.

  Holly had her hand flat on the double door, ready to push when a woman’s shrill scream cut through the hilarity. She turned, déjà vu flooding her system as Derek clutched at his throat, gasping for air, then collapsed.

  Holly took three steps toward him, her hand reaching out when she remembered the paramedics might be waiting outside. Or the police. They were trained, weren’t they. Better they handle the responsibility this time around. Look what went wrong when Holly tried to do it!

  Holly turned and pushed back through the double doors. Sheila’s voice rang out, cutting through the concerned gasps.

  “Get her! I told you she’s a killer and Holly’s now murdered Arnold and poor Derek. The Waterstons poisoned the cupcakes, and now that one’s trying to escape!”

  Chapter Ten

  Holly didn’t stop to correct Sheila or say what she was doing. If the entire hall gave chase, let them. She needed to get help for Derek, and she needed to get it now.

  The pulse of blue lights outside the door gave Holly an extra boost, and she ran across the entrance hall to yank open the door.

  “Quick,” she shouted into the astonished face of the paramedic. “There’s somebody just collapsed. I think he’s in real trouble. Through here.”

  Holly turned and ran back, seeing a crowd of people spill out of the double doors. One man gave a yell, raising his hand to point at her. Then he saw the paramedic behind her, the flashing lights through the open door, and turned back to hold open the reception hall doors instead.

  “Through here,” Holly yelled over her shoulder. She ran across the vast floor, feet sliding on the polished tiles.

  Closer to Derek, the crowd had formed into a tight cluster. Holly forced her way through, clearing a path for the medic to follow.

  “Let me through,” she yelled in exasperation at the last line of people standing. Holly reached out and tugged on a man’s arm, hauling him to one side. “A doctor is coming through!”

  The paramedic knelt by Derek’s limp body. He felt for vital signs as Holly backed away, her body starting to shake from the adrenaline that the shock had dumped into her veins.

  When her legs began to tremble so violently that Holly didn’t think she could stay standing, a chair pressed against the back of her knee.

  “Sit down,” a voice ordered her, and Holly sat. It was either
that or fall down to the floor.

  “Drink this, it’ll help.”

  A glass appeared in Holly’s hand, full of orange juice, and she drank it down in big gulps, then started to hiccup.

  “You killed him,” a voice screamed. Sheila’s tear-streaked face appeared in Holly’s pulsing vision and then shifted away. “You killed him.”

  “Go and see to your husband,” the firm voice commanded. Holly put it together and realized that Aidan was taking charge. She felt a rush of gratitude. The paramedic would make all the decisions about Derek and Aidan could decide everything else.

  Weight lifted up off Holly’s shoulders, leaving her light-headed. She closed her eyes and put her head between her knees.

  “What has the groom taken?” the paramedic asked.

  Sheila’s strident reply shot back immediately, “He swallowed one of that woman’s cupcakes. They must have been filled with poison. He collapsed almost instantly.”

  Holly shook her head. She didn’t have the strength to speak. Crystal’s arms appeared out of nowhere and pulled her into a hug.

  Holly opened her eyes to see her sister sitting in a chair next to her. The lines of Crystal’s face were deeper, showing the strain of worry.

  “I didn’t—” Holly began.

  “Of course, you didn’t.” Crystal stared at Holly as though she’d gone insane. “In what world do you think that I’d believe you tried to kill Derek? Don’t be a silly sausage.”

  Minister Woodfield stepped forward and put his arm around Sheila’s shoulders. “Why don’t you come over here and sit down, love? Let the paramedic work on your husband. Derek’s young and fit and I’m sure he’ll be just fine.”

  Sheila shook her head. “He won’t be fine,” she cried, tears streaking down her face anew. “Look at him. He looks worse than his dad did in the hospital last month. There’s no way he’s going to be just fine.”

  A policeman walked into the reception hall, making a beeline for Derek. Holly felt a rush of fear. Although she knew that she’d done nothing wrong, Sheila’s insistence that she had could see her locked up for the night. It had happened to Crystal when she was innocent. It could just as easily happen to her.

  “Mrs. Waterston?”

  Holly turned around and saw the solemn face of Sergeant Matthewson standing behind her. She stood up, grasping the back of the chair for balance when her head spun at the change in altitude.

  “Andy,” she whispered. “I don’t know what happened, but I had nothing to do with it.”

  He shook his head, looking around the room. “I don’t know what it is about you Waterstons, but you do like to get yourselves involved in a mess, don’t you?”

  “Hey,” Aidan said, stepping forward until he was toe to toe with the Sergeant. “I’ll have you know that Holly and Crystal had nothing to do with this unfortunate incident. We don’t even know that there’s been any foul play involved at this stage. I’d prefer you to keep any rampant speculation to yourself, if you don’t mind.”

  The change in his tone took Holly’s breath away. In the back of her mind, she filed away a question for later. What the hell had the police ever done to Aidan? Something dreadful, to account for his attitude.

  “It’s all right, Aidan,” Holly said, putting a hand on his arm. “Sergeant Matthewson didn’t mean any harm by his statement.”

  “He might not, but Sheila certainly does. I don’t want you getting on the wrong side of rampant speculation. Unless somebody has some evidence, then I think we should all keep our thoughts to ourselves.”

  The stern expression was so different from the easy-going man she’d met in the graveyard that Holly felt she’d sailed off the edge of the world. This place looked like her home planet, but it apparently wasn’t. On Earth, Derek wouldn’t have a heart attack after toasting his new bride. There wouldn’t be a dead butler in the back room.

  “Nobody will be speculating on my watch, sir,” Matthewson replied. He looked over Aidan’s shoulder. “If you don’t mind, I’ll check in with the medic and see if he needs a hand.”

  A flush rose in Aidan’s cheeks as he stepped aside. Perhaps a late realization that he’d gone too far. He muttered something that might have been an apology and waved his hand vaguely in Derek’s direction. A gesture to indicate the sergeant should go right ahead.

  “I wonder if there was alcohol in his glass,” Crystal said. “Maybe I should tell the paramedic. If his glass got swapped around, so he wasn’t drinking grape juice, then it might be a reaction.”

  “I’m sure it won’t do any harm to suggest it,” Holly said. “Even if it’s just so they can discount it straight away.”

  As Crystal rushed forward, squatting down by the medic and quickly explaining, Aidan put an arm around Holly’s shoulders.

  “Do you really think that might be it?”

  Holly shook her head. “Wendy was just telling us before about the care she took to make sure Derek had a different glass to avoid exactly this situation. I hardly think it could be an accident. If someone filled up his special glass with alcohol, then I think it might be deliberate.”

  Crystal returned to their side a short while later, letting out a shaky breath. “He said that it wouldn’t cause these symptoms.”

  Holly slipped a hand around Crystal’s waist and let her lean her head against her shoulder. “I hope that it’s not anything that anybody did,” she said. “That would be too awful. Someone wishing you harm on your wedding day.”

  “But it must be, mustn’t it?” Crystal turned a tear-streaked face to her sister. “I can believe that Arnold or Derek might have collapsed for innocent explanations but both? Nope. There’s something bad going on around here. I’m certainly not eating or drinking anything until we have some answers.”

  The paramedic sat back on his heels to talk to Matthewson. After a few moments of conversation, the sergeant began to move people away from Derek.

  “We’re going to take him to the van and onto hospital,” Matthewson called out. “Please stand back. The best thing you can do to help Derek at this stage is keep out of his way.”

  The medic ran across the room, headed for the exit. Holly guessed that he’d bring a stretcher through, and tugged on Aidan’s arm. “Could you go and see if he needs any help?” she asked. “I’d hate him to struggle when there’s so many able-bodied men standing around.”

  Aidan did as requested, and jogged out of the room. A minute later, he and the paramedic came back into the room, pushing a stretcher. When they reached Derek, the medic collapsed it so they could maneuver the limp body across.

  Holly hated to look, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. The poor young man had been through so much lately. His struggle with addiction, the attempted murder of his father, and now this. Her heart broke for the pain he’d already endured.

  Wendy joined the team as they escorted the stretcher back out to the car. When Sheila tried to get to her feet, Minister Woodfield leaned forward, apparently offering her enough words of consolation that she sank back into her chair again.

  Wendy came back into the room and crossed straight to her daughter. Hoping that they’d learn about the prognosis for Derek, Holly, Crystal, and Aidan moved over to stand in a loose grouping around them.

  Wendy turned to them, reaching out for Holly’s hand and giving it a squeeze before placing it back on her daughter’s shoulder.

  “I’ve talked with the paramedic, and they’re going to take Derek to Christchurch Hospital. They’re calling out a team to help clear the path and the man thinks they’ll be okay to make it through.”

  “Does he need some assistance?” Aidan asked. “If we travel along in the four-wheel drive we could help him with the journey.”

  Sheila’s face brightened at the suggestion. “Oh, yes. Please, Mommy? I know you said I shouldn’t go, but that will be safe, won’t it?”

  Wendy looked upset at the suggestion. Holly guessed that the strain of being separated from her daughter earlier in the day
was now recurring in force.

  “You could go with her, Wendy,” she suggested. “Make sure that everybody gets there safely.”

  Aidan frowned and shook his head. “Can’t you just travel with the paramedic? Surely, there’s room for another passenger.”

  At that suggestion, Wendy’s face went very still. She jerked her head toward the far end of the reception room a few times before Holly got it and tugged on Aidan’s hand.

  “Arnold the butler,” she mouthed, not wanting to speak aloud in case it upset Sheila even more.

  “Did they say what caused his collapse?” Crystal asked.

  Holly steeled herself for another outburst of accusations from Sheila, but instead, she stayed silent while Wendy shook her head. “Something’s got in his system, all right, but the paramedic doesn’t know what or how it was administered. He’s taken along samples of the cakes as well as the glass that Derek was drinking from. Hopefully, that will provide some answers.”

  A quick look flicked across Sheila’s face, too fast for Holly to interpret it. “I hope that they find the reason, and soon. It’s dreadful to stand here thinking that any of us might succumb to the same thing at any time.”

  “If the paramedic and police got through, we should be fine for traveling home, shouldn’t we?” Crystal asked.

  Matthewson, who’d wandered across—possibly to listen in—stepped forward at that.

  “I’d advise everyone to stay put for the moment. The council is working to clear the roads, but there are lines down and blockages all the way along. The paramedic van got stuck at one point. It’s only because I had a towing rope that we were able to reach this place at all.”

  “But the four-wheel drive should be okay to take them to Christchurch, shouldn’t it?” Holly asked. Although she knew she was pressing the issue, it would be awful to sit back and lose the chance for Wendy and Sheila to be by Derek’s side as he fought for his life.

  The sergeant started to shake his head, and then his shoulders slumped. “It won’t be the safest idea, but if you’re careful, it should be okay. Is the vehicle about? I’ll chuck a spare tow-rope in the back for you if you like. It’ll give you an extra chance to stay out of trouble.”