Frosted on the Ferris Wheel (11 page)

“Invited?” Hardy asked. Suspicion as thick as a cream cheese frosting.

“Yup.” Holly felt bad lying, but technically they’d done nothing wrong. Joel hadn’t pressed charges or accused them of breaking and entering.

Trent entered. “Chief Hardy.”

“Officer Trent. Need me to take care of this for you? I realize you have work to do for the festival.”

“Thanks, but this won’t take long.” He motioned to Holly. “Would you step into my office?”

Holly offered a weak smile to Hardy. “Nice to see you again, Chief Hardy.”

“Same here.”
 

But Holly felt her watching the entire way into Trent’s office until he shut the door.

Holly took a seat. She should be taking advantage of the time and spill everything, all Millicent’s lies. She should share her information on the case, the fact that Joel wasn’t a full business partner. She should tell him about Chip’s threats. She should apologize for the other night when Muffins ruined their dinner.

Instead, she sat and said nothing. Too hurt to ask anything.

He sighed and sat into his chair. It squeaked under his weight. At first, he didn’t say anything, just sat, his hands folded. Waiting. He sighed again.

Holly stared at her sneakers, at the tiny hole forming in the toe. Probably from how many times she’d had to sprint after Muffins since she’d moved to Fairview. Then she stared at her ankle socks and wondered if it was time to buy more. She tried not to think about her smoothie creation because she still hadn’t perfected it and the festival was looming over her.

“What are you thinking about?” Trent asked. “Why don’t we start there?”

Holly decided to tell the truth. “About the hole forming in my sneaker and that it’s almost time for new ones.” And that was the honest-to-God truth.

“Anything else?”

“Oh, just that Muffins might need to attend obedience school.”

“Holly...” He sounded impatient.

She looked at him for the first time and was surprised. His expression was soft and tender, caring and concerned. She didn’t understand why. It almost made her want to tell him everything.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

“I’ve missed you too.” He leaned forward. “Can I be honest?”

“Sure.” Holly braced for the worst, yet hoped for the best.

“Do you think maybe you should cut Millicent some slack? She’s tried extremely hard to be your friend. Do you think you’ve been too hard on her?”

His words stunned her. “Cut her some slack?”
 

“I mean not give her such a hard time when it comes to the mystery club...and when it comes to me. I’ve known her a long time. She’s often misunderstood.”

Someone had been drinking the Millicent Kool-Aid for too long.

Trent continued, “My mom’s always given her a hard time. And then you come into town and strike up a close friendship with my mom right away. I don’t know. She could use some kindness.”

Holly felt her body tighten, her adrenaline rush. Someone had been duped, brainwashed, hypnotized. Someone had only seen the side of Millicent that she wanted him to see. For being a smart cop, he sure was stupid.

She stood. “Is that all, Officer Trent?”

Her calling him by his official name must have been like a cup of cold water down his back, because his mouth gaped open. He was hurt. Well, good. It was about time someone else felt what she was feeling. Time someone got a clue.

“Maybe we can get together after the festival is over. I’ve got a lot overtime work in the next few days.”

“Yeah, sure.” Then she turned and left before he saw the tears glitter, before he could see by her reaction that he had it all wrong, before he could apologize and ask questions.

Before she said something she’d regret.

Holly left the station and went back to her apartment to regroup. Mystery Club met tonight, but she wasn’t quite in the right state of mind to be in the same room as Millicent. All the lies and manipulation on Millicent’s part had worked. Holly could only assume that somehow she’d influenced Charlene too.

Muffins jumped and yipped at her heels as soon as she walked through the door.

“Muffins,” she gushed. “My little naughty angel.” Holly sat on the couch and let Muffins jump onto her lap. She unloaded her day’s anguish on him, letting him soak in her frustration and anger. “Muffins, I don’t want to be this person. I refuse to carry a chip on my shoulder or start sulking because my friends are treating me differently.”

It only spoke to Trent’s character that he was standing by Millicent, an old friend from high school, and possibly more than a friend. Holly had to have pushed him too far with her games and antics and sleuthing. He could have at least talked to her though before moving forward with Millicent.
 

“I’ll do the mature thing and just talk to him.” After all, she was a mature woman who knew how to communicate, who knew how to take her punches with dignity. “And then I’ll go to mystery club tonight, suck up my pride, and do the best I can. Share my theories, my questions. If they shoot them down, that’s okay.”

Feeling better, and after a longing, guilty look at the kitchen and the in-progress smoothie creation, she headed out the door. “Come on, Muffins. This time you can come with me. Just no running away.”

It was a short drive to the abandoned lot. She hadn’t been there since the morning Charlene dragged her down to the crime scene. Maybe here she could organize her thoughts about the murder. All the different aspects that didn’t seem to fit together.

She parked on the road behind a yellow convertible. “Well, well, Muffins. Looks like someone else needed to think too. Let’s have a little chat with Joel.”

After attaching the leash so Muffins couldn’t get any ideas, Holly picked through the rocky earth to where the cement foundation lay abandoned.
 

Muffins let out a soft bark and tugged on his leash.

Holly wasn’t alone.
 

Judy Schilling stood a couple feet away from where her husband had been buried under cement. Holly stifled another shudder. What a horrible way to go. Lying there. Vulnerable. Unable to do anything as your captor looks on, possibly with an evil grin or smirk of satisfaction.
 

If only the dead could talk.

Holly approached slowly not wanting to startle Judy or scare her off. She stood next to her, even knowing that Judy might recognize her from cleaning at her house earlier. “Hi, there.”
 

Judy startled but flashed a weak smile.

There were plenty of questions Holly wanted to ask. How well did Judy know Joel Atherton? Did her husband, Gary, work with a Chip at all? Did her husband have any enemies? Did this abandoned lot have anything to do with it? Probably all questions the police asked her.

“This was the fourth property,” Judy murmured. She stared at the broken chunks of cements that had been her husband’s grave as if she looked long enough, stared hard enough, time would roll back.

Holly bit back her comments and thoughts, giving Judy a chance to talk.

Judy continued. “It was the fourth one that went bad too. Had to be abandoned.” She sighed, her sorrow and grief palpable.

“I’m sorry. Real estate can be a wonderful investment.” Holly spoke tentatively, softly.

“Yes, it can.” Judy’s tone hardened.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what went wrong?” Holly asked.

A frown creased Judy’s forehead, her eyebrows pinching together.

“I’m sorry. This seems to be a hard topic. You don’t have to say anything.”

“No, no. It’s okay. Gary wanted to set us up for an early retirement. Invest in properties and flip them. You know what they say? Location. Location. Location.”

“Hmm,” Holly agreed.

“With each one, the plan looked great. On paper. With one the paperwork wouldn’t go through. Another, the town called it unsafe to proceed. We lost thousands. This last one the company we’d hired turned out to be a scam. More thousands lost. They made it look like they were reputable, and then they disappeared after they started the job. After we paid a huge chunk of change as down payment.”

“I’m sorry.”
 

With Judy in the mood to share, Holly decided to poke. “What a stretch of bad luck.”

“Luck?” Judy responded with revulsion, her body stiffening and reeling. “There’s no such thing as luck.”
 

Holly let out a small gasp of shock. “You mean someone was sabotaging your husband’s efforts?”

Judy wiped at an angry tear. “Yes. And I know who. His business associate. Out of jealousy that my husband was smarter than him and always seemed to get wind of these investment opportunities before him.”

Holly kept to herself that she knew the name of the business partner. Joel Atherton. The man sure knew how to play the part of friend to the grieving window. Maybe if Holly approached Trent and told him all this, he’d listen. This had to be enough evidence for a deeper investigation. Holly had to ask one more question.

“Did you share this information with the police in charge of the investigation?”

Judy nodded. “So far nothing has come of it.”

Rather abruptly, Judy excused herself, mumbling about an appointment. Holly watched her find a path back to the sidewalk and her car. When Judy climbed into the convertible, Holly realized her mistake the other night. She’d assumed since Joel drove, the car was his. This meant the counseling appointment card was Judy’s. This wasn’t a big revelation or break-through but between what Judy just revealed about Joel combined with the fact he wasn’t seeing a grief counselor...it made him appear slightly more guilty.

But still, no solid evidence of any kind.

Holly stayed for a few moments. She studied the rocks and splinters of cement. If only stones could talk.

***

On the drive back through town, Holly noticed a day away from the start of the festival that the traffic was thickening. More tourists. Locals grabbing groceries while they could still snag a parking spot. Slowing as she passed the fairgrounds, Holly looked toward the spot where she’d be for the next couple days, selling smoothies she hadn’t perfected yet.

Muffins barked and pawed at the window.

It wasn’t hard to pick out Judy’s yellow convertible parked along the road. “Thanks, Muffins.” Curious, Holly whipped into an open spot a few cars down. All the rides were ready to go. The large white canopy tents were up where all the baked goods would be sold.
 

“This time, you’ll have to stay here, Muffins. I can’t risk Judy catching sight of me. She’ll think I’m stalking her.”

Muffins whimpered and lay down in the front seat.
 

“Good dog, but your act won’t change my mind.” Holly left the car locked and walked the edge of the fairgrounds. There were just enough people that Holly could get lost in them and not be spotted. Around the other side of the Ferris wheel, Holly halted.

Judy’s back was to her and she was in a heated argument. Holly couldn’t quite see the person Judy was talking to, so she headed around the opposite side of the ride. She peeked between the carriages. Shock rippled through her.

Judy was arguing with Chip.

How did Judy know Chip? She thought about creeping closer to listen but didn’t dare put the rest of their investigation attempts at risk.

Time to tell the others.

Mystery Club met in the back room at
The Tasty Bite
. Again. Millicent had arranged plates of her dad’s chocolate chip cheesecake—a mystery club tradition. They were all present, except for one person.

Charlene.

Her absence was keenly felt; the tension spread in the room. No one knew quite how to start, and Holly certainly didn’t feel like adding her two cents just for Millicent to shoot it down. She’d wait and see the direction the meeting went.

Millicent giggled. “I wonder where Charlene could be.”

Holly studied Millicent’s smirk, the knowing look in her eyes and her innocent comment. She knew something and wasn’t sharing.

“Maybe we should get started without her. I have baking to do tonight,” Holly said, desperate to be in and out of this meeting. Time with her friends she used to love.