Dotty Dreads a Disaster

  Dotty

  Dreads a Disaster

  By

  Diane Ezzard

  Book 2 in the Dotty Drinkwater Mystery Series

  Other Books in the Series: -

  Dotty Dishes the Dirt - prequel

  Dotty Dices with Death

  Other books by Diane Ezzard

  The Sophie Brown mystery series –

  My Dark Decline – prequel

  I Know Your Every Move

  As Sick As Our Secrets

  The Sinister Gathering

  Resentments and Revenge

  A Life Lost

  The Killing Cult

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  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Other books by the author

  Newsletter Sign up

  Table of Contents

  Novel

  Newsletter sign up reminder

  Reviews

  About the Author /Acknowledgements

  Blurbs and extracts from other books by the author

  Bibliography with links

  Chapter 1

  Dotty licked the wooden spoon. Mm, the chocolate mixture tasted so good. The Malibu and coconut ganache was a winning combination, even if she said so herself. Looking around at the mess in the kitchen, she groaned. One more batch of chocolate truffles and everything would be finished. Then she could start packing her chocolate goodies up ready for tomorrow’s Spring Fair.

  Dotty’s dad regretted the day he encouraged his daughter to take up chocolate-making professionally. He received a delicious homemade chocolate hamper from her at Christmas. His suggestion to continue making chocolates had turned their home upside down and it would never be the same again. Their kitchen may have received the highest accolade from the council in terms of cleanliness, but those five stars would disappear at the click of a finger if they turned up now. Dotty was such a messy worker and her dad, Pete was a clean freak, bordering on OCD. He couldn’t understand why Dotty, now in her late twenties, hadn’t become more house proud yet. She wouldn’t bag herself a husband if she didn’t buck up her ideas and clean the place more. The sight of the devastation made him shudder. There were bowls and pans everywhere. The worktops were filled with a vast array of opened ingredients. There wasn’t a space clear. Sugar spilt out. Cream formed in a puddle near the cooker. Woe betide him if he wanted a cup of tea. He’d be hard-pressed to find the kettle in that clutter.

  Their gleaming white kitchen wasn’t even one year old yet. After years of badgering her husband. Meryl, Dotty’s mum finally got her wish when Pete retired. She’d forgone an Aga in exchange for a sleek, ultra-modern white design with bespoke granite countertops. There was a central station and lots of little extras such as the wine cooler and flashy water heater. The only problem had been, once the new appliances were installed, their crockery looked old and dated. That meant everything had to be replaced, much to Pete’s dismay. The way things were going, his pension money from the police force would be gone, and he’d need a job to supplement Meryl’s spending.

  Dotty’s brother, Joe was out on a driving lesson and Meryl wisely cleared off out to run an errand for a friend. Pete knew he needed to do a disappearing act himself before he blew a gasket. He popped his head around the kitchen door one more time and cringed at the chaotic sight in front of him. He hated disorder. It affected his peace of mind but on this occasion, he did the right thing — he bit his tongue and retreated to his garden shed. His asparagus may not be good enough to enter the Spring Fair best vegetable section this year and nor were his cauliflowers up to scratch. The cold winter must have affected the soil. But he vowed to put his efforts into ensuring his strawberries were in tip-top condition so they could gain a place at the summer event.

  Since his retirement from the police, gardening and golf took up most of his time. That was if he wasn’t being prompted by his missus to carry out DIY chores. He hated painting and decorating but that was all he seemed to have done since finishing work.

  Dotty breathed a sigh of relief when her dad didn’t kick off at the mayhem in the kitchen. Another half an hour and the room would shine like a new pin again. Then she would make them both a nice cup of tea and she could relax. It had been a hard slog making enough chocolates for the two-day event. As soon as everything was packed away, she planned to treat herself to a long, relaxing soak in the bath. She deserved some pampering after her hard work.

  Her new chocolate venture was proving to be physically exhausting. Any notions of building an empire the size of Cadbury’s had gone out the window. Making chocolates took effort. Her bones ached from standing all day. Whilst she enjoyed the work, she hadn’t anticipated how demanding it would be and how much it would affect her poor feet. Every night when she got in the bath, her weary limbs ached. It was worse than gardening! Still, at least she could eat her wares, so that was a bonus. Being chief taster, a treat was in store for her every time she came up with a new recipe flavour as she had to sample it first. Everyone had their favourites. Her dad liked the dark chocolate chilli, her mum preferred the white chocolate laced with Bailey’s. Her own number one was the Tia Maria and her brother would just gobble the lot if she let him.

  She hummed away as she scrubbed the work surfaces. She took off her apron and folded it up to throw in the laundry basket later. Her phone pinged. She looked down, checked the screen and smiled. Her friend, Kylie was popping along tomorrow to help with her stall. Good, that meant Dotty could wander around to see the other vendors. She liked to network and find out how everyone was doing. Most stallholders attended the same events. She knew many of them now, and she considered them like family. Hers was a fledgling business and although things were going well, she still had a lot to learn. She only set up her website last week, and that was a task and a half. Thankfully, Joe was computer savvy so had helped her.

  The following morning, it felt like the crack of dawn when the alarm went off. It was 6.00 am. As much as she wanted to turn over and have a lie-in, she couldn’t afford to dawdle. Dotty worked regularly at craft fairs and farmer’s markets but sometimes if she turned up late, she was punished by being given the worst spot. Even as a novice at retailing, she sussed how important a prime site was. Today, she had to take what was given as places had already been allocated. Still, the Spring Fair always got a good turnout. The locals supported it and came out in their droves. Competition was fierce amongst them for prizes in the horticultural tent. There were four events a year, one for each season and the glory of winning was better than the prizes themselves. It wasn’t the garden centre vouchers that everyone fought over; it was the knowledge that they had outdone others in the community, some of whom gloated for months if they received a prized rosette.

  Dotty was soon up and out, motoring down the bypass to the large meadow where the event was held. Stewards on site directed the traffic to their parking spots. She’d purchased a wheeled carrier to put her boxes on and she scurried along, eager to get
set up in time for the opening and the onslaught of customers. Business was slow to start but things started picking up by mid-morning. Kylie sent Dotty a text to say she was on her way. Dotty was busy cutting up samples for people to try when she heard the familiar voice of her neighbour, Betty Simpson.

  “That wretched man. Someone should shoot him.” Betty’s arms flapped around. Even without asking, Dotty guessed who she was talking about — Nigel Hastings or nasty Nigel as he was affectionately known. His bombastic, pedantic nature got everyone’s backs up. He was the main reason Dotty hadn’t submitted an entry into the flower arranging category this year. She was still reeling from last year’s remarks that she overworked her tulips and relied too much on her daffodils. It was outrageous. She thought he had no idea about modern arrangements and should be struck off, but she kept that comment to herself for fear of reprisals.

  “What’s Nigel done this time, Betty?”

  “He says my rubber plant was submitted too late. It’s ridiculous. I had it there in the nick of time. If the other judges, Edna Salcombe or Christine Beckley had been there, they would have allowed it, but no, he says I was two minutes late with my submission. I will be complaining to the committee, mark my words.”

  “He’s obviously not trying to win any friends. I haven’t forgiven him for his comments last year about my floral display. It took me ages to prepare and his remarks were nothing short of derogatory. If someone bumped him off with a dose of arsenic in his tea, I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.”

  Dotty looked up to see young Ruth Winters walking through from the horticultural tent wiping her eyes.

  “What’s wrong, Ruth?” Dotty might have guessed.

  “It’s that horrible fat old judge, nasty Nigel.” Ruth sniffled.

  “What’s he done now?”

  “He told me to go home and stick to playing with dolls rather than growing cacti. He has no idea the work I put into tending to those plants. To be brushed aside like that hurts.”

  “Take no notice of him. He’s probably jealous of your achievements at such a young age.”

  “It’s not right. Someone should do something about him.”

  “Maybe if enough of us complain, the committee will take action.” Dotty lightly stroked Ruth’s forearm.

  “That won’t happen. He’s been judging for too long. He has too much influence in the local community.” Betty had been eavesdropping and threw her two-penneth in.

  Kylie arrived and Dotty went back behind her stall and recounted what happened.

  “I don’t know why everyone gets so worked up over cabbages and carrots,” Kylie commented, bemused by the fuss.

  “Yes, but for some folk, it is all they care about. It gives them a sense of standing, winning a prize here.”

  “They should get a life.” Dotty thought that sounded rich coming from Kylie whose greatest achievement in life was winning her cycling proficiency test. She soared to great heights professionally — she was a barmaid at The Old Six Bells pub. Dotty kept her mouth shut. After all, her friend had come to help her for free. She couldn’t afford to upset her, not if she wanted time for a mooch around the fair later.

  Kylie put on an apron and got to work straightaway. She was a good salesperson and Dotty was grateful for her support even if she bullied the customers into buying. There was a lull in visitors just after midday, so Dotty asked Kylie if she minded holding the fort while she had a walk around.

  “No, be my guest. I can manage. I’ll call you on your mobile if I get a busload of customers drop by.”

  Dotty walked through looking at the craft stalls. She was tempted to buy an art print for her bedroom wall but talked herself out of it. Sometimes at these events, she spent more than she made. She strolled into the vegetable tent expecting judging to be well under way. The two lady judges stood in a circle with some of the competitors.

  “I don’t know where he’s got to. He should have been here ten minutes ago,” Edna said, looking at her watch.

  “If he doesn’t hurry up, we’ll have to start without him,” Christine replied. Dotty sloped through to look at the floral displays. Although they were nice, she could have done a better job than most of them. Sadly, she’d been too busy this year making chocolates to consider an entry and still felt wounded by last year’s comments.

  Walking outside, she smelt the distinctive aroma from the barbecued hog roast as it wafted up her nostrils. She was tempted into buying a pulled pork sandwich and she strolled out towards a bench by the duck pond to eat it. She was about to sit down when she noticed something floating in the water.

  Dotty shook her head and frowned. It looked like someone had dumped some clothes in. They should know better than discard jumble that way. She walked over to the edge of the tiny lake. Her eyes were still trained on the clothes gathered up.

  Suddenly she gasped. That wasn’t just a clump of clothes she could see, there was a body wearing them!

  Chapter 2

  Dotty raced back to the main tent.

  “Help, help. Someone has drowned in the lake.”

  Montgomery Carruthers was quick off the mark and for all his ageing years, was agile enough to dive in towards the body. A crowd watched as he performed a lifesaving act that he last administered in his youth. Back then, he helped a young boy who got into difficulties while out at sea, in Torquay. This was different. It was a large grey-haired elderly man and someone he knew well. The body that looked like a beached whale was pumped but for all Montgomery’s sterling efforts, there was no hope. Any sign of life had expired. Edna Salcombe crouched down in front of the body.

  “Give him CPR. Keep going.”

  “It’s no use, Edna. He’s gone blue. It’s too late.”

  “No, no, he can’t be dead. Quick, do something.”

  Dotty thought about starting up a rendition of the Bee Gees “Staying Alive” to keep the momentum going but then wisely stopped herself from saying anything. Nigel Hastings wasn’t well-liked, but it was hardly time for a singsong. Word soon got around the fair about the incident. The horror of the situation was like a Mexican wave of people’s tongues. The Chinese whispers were out in force and rippled from tent to tent. Many rushed over to see what had happened. A small crowd gathered. Kylie joined in to find out what the fuss was about. She rubbed her hands together glad she hadn’t missed the action.

  Before long, the place was dripping in police and ambulance personnel. It was only when Nigel’s body was covered with a sheet that Dotty wondered if she should have done more. If she’d dived in rather than gone for help, would he have been saved? She convinced herself, it was unlikely. She didn’t want any guilt eating away at her. Secretly, she knew the real reason she hadn’t gone in the water was because her hair was her pride and joy. Getting it wet wasn’t an option, plus the water in the muddy duck pond looked gross.

  Dotty groaned when she saw who was leading the case. Her and DS Collins had met on several occasions in the past and Dotty couldn’t abide the woman. Dotty listened as the police officer gave out orders to her staff.

  “Get those people away from here,” she shouted. “Did anyone see Nigel enter the water?” She called to the small crowd gathered leering at the water’s edge. Everyone turned their backs and talked in little huddles. Some began walking away. That was what they thought about the detective’s question. She would be lucky to get any co-operation from anyone in the area. Most folk weren’t fans of Nigel.

  “I want a word with you, young lady. I believe you spotted the body.” Dotty sighed. She didn’t want to be obstructive, but DS Collins’ people skills bordered on bullying tactics in her opinion. Dotty stood nodding.

  “Chop, chop, then,” DS Collins clapped her hands. “Get your butt over here while we run through some questions.” Dotty felt the police presence was over the top. After all, there was no suspicion of foul play, at this stage at least. It was probably because Nigel was such a high-profile member of the local community. Even in death, he could metaphor
ically click his fingers, and everyone would jump to it, just as they did when he was alive.

  Dotty did as ordered and went and sat in the police car to make a statement. Sadly, neither of her two favourite policemen, Wayne or Dave was on the scene today. She overheard DS Collins ordering some of her colleagues about.

  “I want you to check his movements before he entered the water. What the blazes was he doing in the lake? Did he fall? Had he been drinking? Could someone have pushed him in? Does anyone know if he had a heart condition? Get everyone interviewed who was in the vicinity. Speak to anyone who saw him in the build-up to this. I don’t like it. Something’s not right. Look, forensics have arrived. Seal the area off.”

  Dotty listened to DS Collins bossing everyone around. That job wouldn’t suit her. Dotty was no good at telling anyone what to do. The life of a police officer had never interested her, much to her dad’s disappointment. Dotty watched as a police tent was erected next to the water’s edge. By the look of things, the police must suspect foul play.

  “Now, Dotty. How are you and how’s your dad?” DS Collins jumped in the back of the police car with her. This was a turn of events. The police officer’s tone changed dramatically. Dotty hadn’t known her to be a friendly type on the previous meetings they had. Was it because DS Collins was after information from her or was Dotty just being cynical?

  “We’re both well. Dad has settled into his retirement now. He was sorry to leave the force at first, but he enjoys his golf and his gardening, anything, as long as it’s not getting under mum’s feet.”

  “He was a well-respected copper, your dad. We lost a good ‘un there. Now then, Dotty. Do you want to run through how you made the discovery?”