A Criminal Celebration in Hillbilly Hollow Read online

  “I’m sure she’ll be just fine without me, getting spoiled by you.” I laughed. “And I’ll only be down the road. You’ll never be fully rid of me.”

  I headed for the back door.

  “Good.” Grandma beamed. She cleared her throat. “If you spot your grandpa while you’re outside tell him his lunch is ready, will you?”

  “Will do,” I said.

  “Do you want anything, Emma? I can make you a sandwich or something if you’d like.”

  I shook my head. “No thank you. I already ate with Suzy,” I lied.

  If I told her the truth, that I wasn’t really hungry, she would only worry about me, and I would never be able to convince her it wasn’t because of Summer.

  I stepped out into the yard and Snowball ran ahead of me. I spotted my grandpa straight away over by the barn and hurried over to give him Grandma’s message.

  “Great,” he said. “I’m starving.”

  He started for the house and turned back to me when he realized I wasn’t following.

  “Are you not coming in? Your grandma won’t be happy if you keep her waiting,” he said.

  I laughed. “Oh believe me, I’m not brave enough to keep her waiting. I’ve already grabbed a bite with Suzy.”

  He nodded and walked to the house.

  I went back towards the outhouse. My cell phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out, wondering if Billy had some news on the culprit of Summer’s murder. But it wasn’t Billy calling. It was Autumn Martin, Summer’s sister. I was shocked to see her name, and I wondered for one horrible minute if no one had told her yet.

  I dismissed the thought. Tucker was far from being an excellent Sheriff – someone could be murdered while he was in the room and he would still get the conclusion wrong as to who had done it – but he wasn’t lax when it came to notifying people of a situation. He would have talked to Autumn already.

  I took the call.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Emma? I take it you’ve heard about Summer, since Billy was with the sheriff when he came to give me the news.”

  “I have. I’m so sorry, Autumn,” I said.

  She didn’t respond and the silence stretched out. I waited and when it was clear she wasn’t going to answer me, I pushed on.

  “I was actually going to call you tomorrow. I wondered if I would be able to collect my folder,” I said.

  “Really?” Autumn asked, sounding surprised. “My sister just died and you’re firing me?”

  “What? No of course I’m not firing you. You and Summer have done all of the work, and of course you’ll still be getting paid. I just thought with what had happened, that I would need to take care of any last minute details,” I said.

  Autumn sniffed loudly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that,” she said. “Thank you for thinking of me that way, but unless you have any objections, I was actually calling you to confirm that I would be taking over the last minute arrangements and coordinating the day.”

  “I didn’t think you’d feel like doing it,” I said. “Honestly Autumn, please don’t feel like you have to do this. I’d understand, and …”

  “My sister and I had our issues, as you know,” Autumn interrupted me. “But we were always together, and I need something to focus on. Something to stop me from just sitting around moping. And this is what Summer would have wanted.”

  I nodded my head, although I was aware that Autumn couldn’t see me. What she was saying made perfect sense, and I thought that in her position I might feel exactly the same way.

  “If you’re sure, that would be great,” I said. “But look, if it gets too much, you only have to let me know. Okay?”

  “I will. Thank you, Emma,” she said. “I’m going through your folder now. I’ve worked closely with Summer on this one so I’m up to speed with what needs doing. I’m just double checking everything. But you can relax. You’re in good hands, Emma.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Call me anytime, hon. And if I don’t hear from you, I’ll see you bright and early on the morning of your wedding.”

  She ended the call. I frowned at my cell phone for a moment before I put it away, like it would somehow have the answers. I was still kind of shocked at the call with Autumn, although I was relieved to know I wouldn’t have to spend my time chasing wedding details. As much as I had thought I was ready for it, when it had nearly became a reality, I could instantly feel the weight of it all pressing down on me, stressing me out.

  I pulled my phone back out and sent Billy a text, explaining to him that Autumn was taking over the wedding planning. I guessed my grandma was right. Autumn was a partner in the business, now most likely the full owner, and she understood one thing: no matter what happens, if you want your business to be a success, then the show must go on.

  5

  I came back out of the outhouse to a rather indignant Snowball who looked at me and bleated.

  I laughed and shook my head. “I draw the line at you going in there with me,” I told her.

  She seemed to be appeased by my simple statement and she trotted over to examine a particularly tasty looking dandelion. She sneezed as she sniffed at it, and I laughed to myself. It didn’t put her off, and she promptly gobbled down the dandelion in one big bite. I started walking back towards the house and Snowball trotted over to me, running in circles around me as I walked.

  Suddenly, the little goat stopped and sniffed the air. She moved away from me, putting a couple of feet of distance between us. I looked where she was heading. I didn’t see anything that could have caught her attention, but she was a curious little creature and she often took a keen interest in a particular blade of grass that looked no different to me than any of the other blades of grass. I thought nothing of her strange behaviour until she lay down flat on her belly and stared at a patch of air before me.

  That was when I knew. I was about to get a visit from a ghost, and I would bet my last cent that it would be the ghost of Summer Martin.

  I had barely formed the thought when the air in front of me began to shimmer. I’d never seen a ghost exactly shimmer before. I frowned, sure I was mistaken, but I wasn’t. As I watched, my mouth hanging open in surprise, Summer materialised in front of me.

  She didn’t speak, didn’t do anything. She just kind of hovered there. I wasn’t quite sure what to do, so I did the only thing I could think of and sidestepped around her. She turned as I passed her and floated along at my side.

  “Please stop following me,” I said.

  The ghost of Summer laughed, a cold, almost cruel laugh.

  “I will. Once you get to the bottom of my murder and find out who’s responsible,” she replied. “I want justice and I won’t rest until I get it.”

  By now, I was used to ghosts showing up, asking me to resolve the mysterious circumstances of their deaths. It was a gift I had, the ability to see and speak to the dead. I had fallen into the role of “ghost detective” some time ago, and was hardly ever unsettled anymore by the arrival of a ghostly being with a request like Summer’s.

  Still, with my wedding approaching, the timing couldn’t be worse.

  “I understand how you feel,” I said. “But in case you’ve forgotten, I have a wedding in two days.”

  “I haven’t forgotten. Just like I haven’t forgotten where your honeymoon is. And if you don’t solve this murder, I’ll be coming with you.”

  She faded back away as quickly as she had come before I had time to reply. I was sure she was no longer following me once Snowball got to her feet again and ran back to me. She never wanted to be close to me when I had one of my ghostly visitors, but the second they left she was back at my side.

  “Oh, Snowball, what am I going to do about this?” I asked her.

  I got a loud bleat in response.

  “Yes, you’re right,” I said. “It’s that simple. I just have to find the murderer in the next two days, along with getting through my design work and m
y chores on the farm. Oh yes, and fit in enough sleep that I don’t end up with big bags under my eyes on my wedding day.”

  Now that Autumn had decided to take over the wedding stuff I would have a little spare time. The time I had feared I would have to use calling contractors and vendors could be used instead to start doing a little digging.

  As I passed through the kitchen and said a quick hello and goodbye to my grandparents, it occurred to me that I had known from the second Billy had said Summer had been murdered that this would be what came next. I had known even when I told Billy I’d be staying out of the investigation that I would be looking into it.

  I went up to the attic with Snowball at my heels and sat down on my bed. After opening my laptop, I thought for a moment, then opened a blank document and quickly typed up what I knew about Summer’s murder. It didn’t help much. Her car was conspicuous and well known and it was common knowledge that, to Summer, speed limits were a mere suggestion.

  My mind kept going back to Derrick Williams, the photographer, and Autumn’s words about him. She was obviously joking, but was it too much of a stretch to think he’d finally gotten sick of being berated by Summer and snapped? After all, someone had to have killed her, didn’t they?

  Out of morbid curiosity, I opened my web browser and typed Derrick’s name and “Hillbilly Hollow” into the search box. I was expecting a social media profile or a website for his business. I got both of those, but what caught my attention were the newspaper stories. I frowned and clicked on one.

  As I skimmed through the article, I felt my jaw dropping. Derrick Williams had a record. Twelve years ago, he had been given a two month suspended jail sentence for stalking an ex-girlfriend. There wasn’t much information other than that in the article and I quickly clicked out of it and into another.

  This one wasn’t truly an article but a post on the town’s small online message board, so had information of a gossipier nature. It seemed like Derrick’s girlfriend had dumped him and Derrick had then followed the woman whenever she went out. Eventually, she had tired of asking him to leave her alone and sought a restraining order, which was promptly granted. But Derrick had broken it by approaching her again, hence the suspended sentence.

  Wow, I thought to myself. This man was going to be the photographer at our wedding and he sounded like a nut. Apparently, his lawyer had played the case that he had no intention of harming the woman, he was merely so deeply in love with her that he couldn’t let her go. Had a part of him felt that way about Summer Martin? Had he given up on getting her back and killed her so she couldn’t move on without him?

  No, I thought, Autumn had specifically told me that he had ended the relationship with Summer. He was clearly unhinged, though, and surely that made him more likely to snap and resort to such an extreme reaction. I wasn’t sure. There was no record of him being violent to the woman, and murder was a far cry from watching someone. He was still a long way from leaving my top suspect list, all the same.

  Out of interest, I clicked through to his social media profile. He had updated his status that morning: Meeting with the Martin dragon today. Wish me luck.

  My jaw dropped again. He had known for sure that Summer would be out and about in her car today as she was meeting him. While part of me screamed that it had to be him, another, more reasonable part of me said to slow down and think. If he had planned on Summer having an accident today, would he really have broadcast his meeting with her so publicly? And made it so clear he didn’t have the best relationship with her?

  Surely not. Whoever cut those brake cables must have known that it would be noticed and that the sheriff would be looking into it as a murder. But maybe if they knew Tucker, they wouldn’t have been overly worried about that. And they wouldn’t have banked on me getting involved.

  I forced myself to calm down. I added the facts and only the facts next to Derrick Williams’ name in my document, under the heading “suspects”.

  I sat for a moment, looking at his name. Did I really want this man to be a part of my wedding? What if he had killed Summer?

  I told myself once more to calm down. There was no proof he had killed Summer.

  I couldn’t afford to fire him now. Where would I find another photographer at such short notice? And how would I explain it to Autumn without accusing him of murder with no proof? Plus, said the detective voice in my head, it would be a good opportunity to watch him. Keep him close and keep an eye on him.

  I couldn’t help but snort out a bitter laugh as another thought occurred to me.

  Snowball looked up at me as I laughed and I shook my head.

  “Don’t worry, Snowball. I haven’t quite lost my mind yet, I promise,” I said.

  The thought that had occurred to me was a simple yet true point. If I fired Derrick from my wedding based solely on the fact that he wasn’t exactly a fan of Summer, I would have to fire every single person, from the florist to the caterer to my wedding dress maker.

  My laughter subsided as Doris Young, the florist, popped into my head again. She had made no secret of the fact she didn’t like Summer. Maybe she had finally had enough of being spoken to like she was a naughty child in her own business. Maybe she had decided to get Summer out of the way, leaving her free and clear to deal with the mousey Autumn.

  I did a web search for Doris’s name, but I found nothing except a website for Flower Power. I sat thinking. I remembered my last investigation when I wanted to know if there was any dirt on a potential suspect. I hadn’t wanted to involve my grandma, the town’s biggest gossip, so I had called the next best person; Margene Huffler. Margene was a friend of my grandma’s, as well as being the mother of Prudence Marianne Huffler, who I’d once been involved in a case with.

  If Doris had anything real against Summer, or indeed if anyone did, Margene would know. I just needed a reasonable cover story. It didn’t have to be overly detailed. Margene needed no excuse to talk.

  I thought for a moment and then I reached into my pocket for my cell phone and called her. She answered quickly.

  “Hi Emma. How’s the wedding planning going?” she asked.

  “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” I said.

  “Really?” Margene asked, sounding pleased that I was asking for her opinion on any part of my wedding. I suspected she sometimes got lonely, since her daughter had recently moved out of state and settled in far away Faerywood Falls, Colorado.

  “My wedding planner has been murdered,” I said.

  I paused for a moment letting this sink in. Margene gasped. I could almost hear the glee in her gasp as she pictured herself telling everyone that she knew before they did.

  “I’m a little worried that something could happen at my wedding. I wondered if you’d be able to help me. I need to know if someone had a specific grudge against her, or if it’s someone targeting my wedding.”

  “Oh, Emma, I’m sure it’s not anyone trying to make trouble for your wedding. But if you can give me your wedding planner’s name, I can try and think if I know of anyone who might dislike her enough to hurt her. It’s an extreme measure though, isn’t it? Maybe it was random.”

  “It wasn’t,” I said.

  I didn’t want to tell her any details about how I knew that. I wasn’t sure what Tucker would or wouldn’t be making public yet, and as much as I wanted this information, I wasn’t about to get in the way of an official investigation to get it. I hurried on before she could push for more details.

  “Her name was Summer Martin,” I said.

  Margene sucked in a breath that made a whistling sound.

  “Oh, Emma. How long have you got? I barely know anyone who’s had to work with that woman who doesn’t hate her. I mean, not her clients. As I’m sure you’ll know having worked with her, she’s a dream for her clients. But all of her contacts put up with her simply because they have no real choice if they want to cater the bigger weddings.”

  “That’s kind of what I thought,” I admitted.
“I just wondered if you knew of anyone who might have more of a reason than simply not liking her attitude. Like you said, murder is a bit extreme for someone who has only been on the end of one of Summer’s tongue lashings.”

  “Hmm, that’s true,” Margene said. “Let me think. There’s Hilary Button, but she left town years ago and I really can’t see her re-surfacing now to exact revenge on a years old grudge. And then there’s Doris Young.”

  My heart started to race at the mention of Doris. I didn’t want to seem too eager so I just waited, resisting the urge to demand that Margene tell me everything.

  “I can’t see Doris as a murderer. She’s a no nonsense type, a nice enough woman. But it’s not like she doesn’t have a motive. Summer cheated her out of a payment for the floral arrangements for a wedding a couple of years ago. Summer claimed the flowers weren’t right, that they were the wrong ones. The bride was happy with them; she said they were correct, but Summer insisted they were wrong and Doris never did get the money for them. She was cheated out of thousands of dollars and she never really got over it. I hear she makes Summer pay upfront now. Or rather, she did.”

  It sounded like a more solid motive than what I had for Derrick and I quickly added it to my notes.

  “Can you think of anyone else?” I asked.

  “No,” Margene said. “Not anyone who has a better reason than a strong dislike for the woman, and if you want to know about that, then you’ll have a list as long as your arm. But you can relax anyway, honey. If Doris finally decided to get her own back on Summer for cheating her, then she’s most certainly not going to be a problem at your wedding.”

  “That’s a relief, at least,” I said.

  “Oh, and if you speak to anyone else about this and they mention the name Derrick Williams, ignore them,” she added.

  “Why?” I asked, interested to get her take on the whole Derrick situation without having to bring it up myself. “He’s my photographer. Should I be worried?”

  “Not even a little bit,” Margene said. “People often accuse him of things because he has an old criminal record. But I know all the parties involved and, honestly, it was all a misunderstanding, if you ask me.”