Frosted on the Ferris Wheel Page 6

  “Wow. That’s terrific.” Holly wasn’t lying. Millicent’s article cut to the heart of anyone and everyone, because family and relationships were a part of life. No one could escape them.

  “I know. Isn’t it?” Millicent gushed, the joy radiating off her. She looked beautiful. “Or you’ve probably stopped by to apologize for your outrageous behavior recently. Sabotaging my date out of jealousy and poor sportsmanship.”

  Holly ground her teeth and desperately tried to control her rage. If Millicent pressed further, Holly didn’t know how she’d react. She had to get over this. Maybe inviting her to the book club was the only way.

  “But I completely understand. Trent’s a hottie. He’s a hard one to lose. I know from experience.” Millicent smiled sympathetically. “Or maybe you’ve stopped by for relationship advice. Like how to find the perfect rebound. Or cures for the broken heart.” She clapped her hands. “Perfect for my next article.”

  “How will you ever find the time to write two columns?”

  Millicent laughed and waved. “No problem. It just comes so naturally. I’m an excellent writer. The words flow. I barely have to do any editing. And lately, I’ve been inspired.”

  “So I’ve noticed,” Holly said.

  “What?” Millicent let out a gasp. “You read my article. That’s wonderful.”

  Holly thought more seriously about her plans to burn the paper. Maybe make it a part of her daily routine.

  “Or maybe,” Millicent said. “Your sad mystery club is up against a wall with this current investigation and need my help.”

  This was it. The perfect segue into the invitation. Holly smiled. She could be the better person. “We’ve all talked and would love for you to start coming to book club again.”

  “I knew it was only a matter of time before they faltered without my wit and insight. Of course I’ll come.” Millicent blew a strand of hair from her eyes and leaned back, waiting, as if she knew there was more, as if she knew what Holly was going to say.

  “We’d love for you to come to the secret society today at noon.” Holly spit out the words.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t hear you. Would you repeat that?”

  Holly smoothed her dress, stalling. “We’d love for you to attend the secret society meeting today at noon.”

  “Ha!” Millicent slammed her hand against the desk, a triumphant, with snooty smile. “I knew it!”

  Holly had to get out of there, burn off steam. Run and run until she forgot all about this morning. “Would you like to host it at The Tasty Bite?”

  “I’d love to. I knew those old bats wouldn’t go for very long without my dad’s chocolate chip cheesecake.” She tilted her head and softened her voice. “I’m sorry. I know how hard this must be now that the luster has faded. Now that your reputation is suffering and the club is turning back to me. And then there’s Trent too, but I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about that with me.”

  “No. Not really. So I’ll tell Charlene you’re in?” Trent? So last night truly was a date. She guessed they were broken up after all.

  Millicent pulled out her phone. “Not a problem. I’ve been texting with all of them for the past day or so. I’ll let them know myself.” Holly tapped the side of her head. “And I’ll share the new information I found on the case.”

  “Can’t wait.” Holly smiled and forced enthusiasm into her voice. “See you then.”

  Holly didn’t want to attend the meeting of the minds without bringing something to share. For the past month, they’d been using the secret meetings not only to plan investigations but as a time to bake at Just Cheesecake. Maybe she’d taken advantage of that?

  She tightened her grip on the pitcher of homemade iced-tea and entered The Tasty Bite. If she didn’t feel so unwelcome it would be a great place to enjoy a cup of coffee and one of Pierre’s decadent desserts. The sunlight slanted in through the large windows. The scent of cinnamon wafted through the air. The low chatter of friends rumbled in the background.

  The meeting was at noon. She glanced around the place, wondering if maybe Charlene had arrived early and they could chat. But what about? That Charlene had been absent from a lot lately? That Holly missed her ornery friendship? For the first time, the murder investigation wasn’t top priority.

  Someone sat hunched over a laptop at one of the small corner tables. The blonde hair barely rose above it. If Holly listened carefully, she could hear the clatter of keys as someone typed ferociously. She studied Millicent, her focus and determination. Was she writing another article or working on her mystery?

  Holly approached, hesitantly, but trying to have a right attitude. “Hi, there.”

  Millicent didn’t respond, her eyes on the screen.

  “Hey!” Holly said louder.

  After a glance at her, Millicent said, “That time already?”

  “I think so.”

  Millicent typed faster, then with a satisfying nod, closed down her laptop. “I’ve been so inspired lately. I think this latest twist will make my story a killer.” She giggled at her own joke.

  Holly smiled. “Glad it’s coming along.”

  “About time.” She stood. “Want to know what I added?” She didn’t wait for Holly to answer. “I added romance. The amateur sleuth, a budding mystery writer on the brink of discovery, has the town cop wrapped around her finger. He’s hopelessly in love with her.”

  Holly bit down on the inside of her mouth.

  “Hey ladies!” Millicent called. “About time you guys got here. Holly and I were wondering...”

  Charlene, Kitty, and Ann joined them.

  “We ready?” Charlene asked. “Where should we meet? Hope you have some place a little more private here.”

  Millicent nudged Charlene with her fist. “You don’t have to put up the tough act with me.” She waved them all on. “Just follow me.”

  They entered the kitchen where Pierre was hard at work. He offered a smile, his cheeks flushing with color. “Enjoy your time, ladies.”

  “Thanks, Papa!”

  Millicent led them through the kitchen to a backroom with a table and chairs all set up. A chocolate chip cheesecake sat in the center. Holly placed her pitcher of iced-tea beside it.

  Once they were all seated, Charlene pulled out her notebook. “Let’s get started.”

  Millicent cleared her throat. “First, I wanted to express my thanks at inviting me to your secret club. I’ve known about it for a while, waiting and hoping someday I would receive an invitation. And the day finally came.” She dabbed at the corner of her eyes. “So thank you. I promise you won’t regret it.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll be put to work later today.” Charlene read over her notes. “Basically, we’ve got nothing. We can’t seem to pinpoint a motive for anyone. Even the cops seem a bit befuddled from what I can tell.”

  “Oo! Oo!” Millicent raised her arm like she was a schoolgirl. “I know you’ve all tried to subtly interrogate Trent, but sometimes he lets more slip with me, knowing that I’m an investigative reporter. And lately, with our changing relationship, I might get him to admit to more than usual.” She giggled at the seductive tone to her voice, showing exactly how she intended to woo that information from him.

  Kitty and Ann glanced at Holly with sympathetic smiles. Holly’s insides crumbled a bit more.

  “That might work. My bacon quiche hasn’t been doing the trick lately,” Charlene said, without batting an eye at the fact that Millicent practically admitted to seducing her son.

  “No wonder,” Millicent said with a gasp. She smiled slyly. “Melted chocolate, fresh strawberries, and lacy undergarments work wonders.”

  Holly stifled a gasp, Millicent’s words a stabbing pain to her heart.

  Ann piped up. “Why don’t we cover what we do know?”

  Refusing to completely shut down, Holly said, “Most likely the murder was planned, not a heat-of-the-moment thing.”

  “It’s called a crime of passion,” Millicent said
snootily.

  “What else?” Charlene asked.

  “Most likely,” Kitty sliced a piece of cheesecake, “the suspects are the victim’s wife, Judy Schilling, and his business partner at Sunny Side Realty, Joel Atherton.”

  Holly thought about her run-ins with Chip. Yes, he seemed completely separate from this murder, but he was at the crime scene that morning. And, she’d overheard him talk about payment and finishing the job. And, he’d threatened her. “There might be someone else.”

  “Who?” Millicent’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as if it was absurd that Holly might know something she didn’t.

  “Chip. The guy you had a date with the other night. He’s a worker at the fair. He’s been setting up the rides. He was at the crime scene. He’s talked about payment and finishing the job.” She kept to herself his threats, because it would expose her failed espionage missions, and she couldn’t handle being humiliated right then.

  “Pfft.” Millicent waved her hand. “First of all, I wasn’t on a date. And I haven’t seen him since. Second, I’ve been living in this town for years. Those fairground workers are all the same. A lot of wind but no sail.” She looked pointedly as Holly. “The biggest lesson I’ve learned in writing mysteries is that we can’t create suspects based on appearance. They are often red herrings and cause confusion where there shouldn’t be any.” She slowed her speech and spoke clearly as if Holly were a child. “A red herring is a type of false clue, meant to mislead the reader.”

  “Thanks,” Holly said dryly.

  Millicent clapped her hands and let out a squeal. “I knew this club needed me.” Then she grew serious. “That being said, I have information on who the real suspect might be. Based on fact, not on stereotypes.”

  Holly tried to hide her grimace but her body tensed, sending a dull ache across her back. How did Millicent do that—insult Holly while making herself look better, smarter?

  “Okay, let us have it,” Charlene stated, glanced at Holly, her face a blank slate, then focused on Millicent.

  “We all know Gary Schilling was a realtor. I believe you also know he had purchased the abandoned lot. Come to find out, he’s been buying multiple parcels of land, and he’s been doing this for the past couple years. Without telling Joel.”

  “But there’s nothing wrong with purchasing land,” Kitty said. “It’s considered a wise investment.”

  Millicent grinned triumphantly, a gleam in her eyes. She slid copies of receipts across the table. “Yes, but what if he was using the business’s profit to fund these purchases?”

  They murmured, surprised and impressed. Even Holly had to admit this was the biggest break in the case so far.

  Charlene studied the paper, then nodded. “Good work.”

  “Where do we go from here?” Millicent didn’t give anyone else a chance to answer. “I suggest Kitty and Ann hit the library and town offices and dig up information on these properties. Find out what made them so special.”

  “I’ll review the photos taken at the crime scene. Maybe I missed something,” Charlene said.

  “Yes!” Millicent fist-pumped the air, then smiled at Holly. “You and I are going undercover.”

  ***

  Fairview Realty was on the opposite side of town from Sunny Side Realty.

  Holly felt choked up standing here again. It didn’t seem so long ago that she was new in town, about ready to meet Nancy Cummings, the realtor who snagged Just Cheesecake for her, and her apartment across the street. A part of her wanted to go back to a time when she knew no one in town.

  Holly pondered her decision not to mention this resource at the secret meeting. Maybe she didn’t want Millicent shooting her down, making her look like an incompetent fool. Maybe she didn’t want to mention it and then mess it up, like she’d done with just about everything lately. Maybe a part of her secretly wanted to stumble upon a big clue and then present it to her friends.

  Maybe she was just jealous.

  Ignoring that hard thought, Holly strode to the front door and went inside. The place was clean but spacious. Brochures lay on a table. Nancy sat at a desk, studying papers. Her salt and pepper hair pulled back in a fancy twist.

  “Nancy?”

  The realtor looked up, confusion on her face as she tried to place Holly.

  “It’s Holly. Holly Hart?” She stepped farther into the room. Why did she feel so nervous? “You helped me find my apartment and place to rent for my business last year.”

  “Of course.” Nancy smiled. “Sometimes it’s hard to remember. But I remember you. How’s the business going? How’s Fairview been for you?” She laughed. “Sorry for all the questions. I like to know my customers are happy.”

  “Just fine. I love small-town life. It’s quaint. It’s charming.” Her voice broke, her emotions finally seeping through.

  Nancy stood and rushed around the desk. She pulled Holly into a motherly hug and patted her back. “Now, now, dear.”

  Holly’s eyes burned with unshed tears. Mostly because she missed her mother. She missed having someone to talk to, really talk to. Charlene had been absent lately. Trent busy with the case and Millicent. Leaving Holly stranded.

  “You tell me everything. My children are all grown up and living all over the country. I need someone to mother.”

  Holly let Nancy lead her to a chair and accepted tissues. “It’s nothing really.” As much as she wanted to spill everything. She couldn’t. “Feeling a bit lonely, I guess.”

  “Well, that’s normal. I always tell my clients that it takes about two to three years to really feel at home.” She narrowed in on Holly’s face. “And to figure out who your real friends are.”

  “Can’t disagree with that.” Holly sniffed and wiped away the tears. “Thank you.”

  Nancy glanced at the clock on the wall. “I hate to leave but I’m meeting a client. Someone’s looking at that abandoned lot.”

  Holly straightened, alert. “You mean the one where...”

  “Yes, that one. The owner put it up for sale right away.”

  “Oh.” Holly bit back her nerves at her next question. “Why would someone, say a realtor, purchase land without telling anyone?”

  Nancy tapped her fingers together, her gaze shifting left then right. “You mean and why would someone kill over it?”

  Holly nodded. “Exactly.”

  “I probably don’t have the answers you’re looking for, but if a man were keeping those kind of secrets and keeping his loved ones and close friends in the dark, then I’d suspect those aren’t his only secrets, his only lies. From what I know of Gary, he fits that description.”

  “Thanks.” Holly gave her another hug and then left with a lot to think about.

  Holly didn’t share this new insight with anyone. She didn’t rush to text Charlene or Kitty or Ann. She certainly didn’t swing by The Tasty Bite to tell Millicent. And, she ignored several texts from Trent.

  “Are you ready for this?” Millicent jabbed Holly in the ribs with her elbow. “Because if you’re not on the top of your game, then I should go in alone. Judy is a smart woman, grieving, but smart. She’ll see right through your amateur act.”

  Holly raised her eyebrows.

  Millicent sniffed. “I’m an investigative reporter. I’m a professional. I do this for a living. My gift is reading body language and facial expressions. I always know when someone is telling the truth or lying. So let me handle this.”

  “Of course,” Holly stated.

  They were dressed as cleaners. Two young college kids trying to make some cash on the side. They played up their youthfulness, hair back in ponytails, wearing jeans and T-shirts. Millicent had driven them to Judy’s house.

  Millicent rapped against the door. They waited, hoping Judy would answer. Their whole plan was based on the fact that Judy probably wasn’t in the mood for social events or for cleaning.

  Judy opened the door. Her brown hair hung by the sides of her face, but it didn’t look greasy or a mess. In fact, she loo
ked rather put together and upbeat for a grieving widow. “Yes?” she asked.

  Millicent took the lead. “Are you Judy?”

  “I am.” She studied the two of them. Would she recognize Holly and her red hair from the other morning at the crime scene? From the Fairview Inn the other night?

  “An anonymous donor from the community paid us to clean your house. He said slip in quietly, do our work, and then leave.”

  “He?” Judy wasn’t opening the door further to let them in.

  “Oops.” Millicent giggled. “But after he explained the situation, we said we’d do it for free.” Millicent paused, her voice dropped. “I lost my mother last year. I understand.”

  Judy’s face softened, the hard angles smoothing behind a faint smile. “I’ll be outside on the back porch then. Thank you.”

  Once they were alone, Millicent said, “I’ll tackle the study. I’ll know better what kind of papers are important. You, um, look around in the kitchen.”

  “Aren’t we going to clean?”

  Millicent shrugged. “Spray some cleaner, wipe down the counters, do a little dusting. Beyond that she won’t know the difference. It’s not as if we’re getting paid.”

  When Millicent left, Holly breathed a sigh of relief. She also couldn’t believe how easily the lies slipped off Millicent’s tongue. Like she did it everyday. In a way, she did. Not only through her mystery novel but in the daily paper, which Holly knew from personal experience was often filled with fairy tales and hidden slams.

  Holly shook off her thoughts on Millicent. She had a different mission. Let Millicent hunt for more information on the properties, clues on why this land was so important. Instinct told Holly that his murder might not have anything to do with the real estate. Not if Nancy was right about a man keeping secrets.

  The house was lovely. A bright, open kitchen let in lots of sunlight. The whole downstairs was an open concept. The kitchen flowed to a dining area, which led into the living room with puffy leather couches. It reminded Holly of the rooms she’d see in a magazine. Perfect. Everything in its place.