One Dead Cookie (26 page)

“Yes, Mom, but what negotiation technique did you use?”

As Ellie tilted her head, her beribboned hair swayed to one side. “Oh, I simply explained
that the poor souls had been suckered. I softened the blow by feeding them the chocolate
chip cookies Stacey’s kids and I baked last evening. I tried to handle the situation
quietly, of course. I didn’t want to embarrass Lenora too publicly, although, between
you and me, she is not blameless. You see, Lenora told Binnie that you were almost
certainly hiding Stacey and her children in your store or apartment. As you know,
Binnie craves respect from the bigger papers. She called them with her ‘scoop,’ only
she did so without checking her facts. So unprofessional.”

“Sometimes you are the best mom ever.”

“Only sometimes, dear?”

“Now how do we get rid of Binnie and Ned?”

Ellie gave Olivia’s arm a quick squeeze, and said, “I’ll just go help Bertha with
that task, shall I?”

“This I’ve got to see. Maddie can hold the fort.” Olivia glanced around the nearly
empty store to find Maddie dancing as she restocked a shelf. Olivia heard what sounded
like a soft growl and noticed the empty chair near the front window. “I hear Spunky.
Did you see where he went?”

“I believe he trotted into the cookbook nook after Binnie,” Ellie said.

“Oops. Spunky isn’t fond of Binnie, and vice versa.”

Ellie speed-walked toward the cookbook nook, with Olivia straggling behind, as the
growling exploded into a volley of yaps. Olivia arrived in time to see a tableau that
would remain forever etched in her mind. Nedra, Binnie Sloan’s ethereally thin niece,
crouched on top of an antique mahogany buffet, wielding a camera almost as big as
she was. She snapped shot after shot of Spunky as he yapped wildly and hopped on his
back legs, attempting to scale the buffet to reach Ned.

Binnie’s more substantial form, clothed in her usual cargo pants and flannel shirt,
sat cross-legged on a large side table, amidst a scattered cookie cutter display.
The table wobbled when Binnie so much as turned a page in her notebook. She scribbled
rapidly, her expression verging on maniacal.

Jennifer Elsworth cowered well off to the side, staring at the scene with her mouth
hanging open. Her sleek brown hair fell across her face like a protective curtain.
Trusty Bertha had planted her sturdy body between Binnie and Ned. Strong arms crossed
over her ample bosom, Bertha glared at the two invaders like an avenging Valkyrie
judging the right moment to strike.

Olivia couldn’t help herself; she doubled over in
laughter. She knew her antique buffet would never recover from Spunky’s claws. The
display table was about to collapse under Binnie’s weight, and several new cookie
cutters were already bent beyond repair. Binnie would undoubtedly intensify her efforts
to smear Olivia and The Gingerbread House in her
Weekend Chatter
blog. But Olivia couldn’t stop laughing. Her mother grinned, and even Jennifer looked
a shade less horrified. When Olivia heard laughing behind her, she turned her head
to see Maddie and a customer holding their stomachs as they gasped for breath.

Ellie quickly regained her gentle demeanor. She scooped Spunky into her arms and carried
him a safe distance away from his captives. The fierce Yorkie wriggled for a few moments,
then relaxed as Ellie stroked the hair on his neck and whispered in his ear. He snuggled
closer to her. His head dropped against her shoulder, and he closed his eyes.

Binnie Sloan’s plump cheeks reddened, a rare display of embarrassment. She slapped
shut her notebook and slid off the end table, taking its contents with her. With a
quick nod at Ned, she strode toward the entrance to the cookbook nook, crunching several
cookie cutters along the way. Ned jumped down from her perch and followed her aunt.

At the entrance to the main sales floor, Binnie spun around and pointed her index
finger at Olivia. “You are hiding the family of a murderer, and, trust me, I will
find them. They know more about the killing of Trevor Lane than the police realize,
and I think you’re in on it. I’m going to blow this case wide open.”

Binnie turned and strode toward the front door with Ned scurrying behind her. As she
passed him, Spunky awakened from his hypnotic state and yapped at her. She
paused in the entryway long enough to yell, “That dog of yours is a public menace.”

Following Binnie and Ned’s dramatic exit, no one spoke. Even Spunky had nothing to
add. Eventually, Maddie said, “Jennifer, would you work on straightening up the cookbook
nook? The rest of us will handle the sales floor.”

“Of course,” Jennifer said. “I could use a chance to calm down.”

As the others straggled back to the main sales floor, Maddie asked, “Binnie wouldn’t
dare go after Spunky. Would she?”

“She might,” Ellie said, “but Spunky will prevail. Won’t you, sweetheart?” Spunky
lifted his head and gazed adoringly at Ellie.

Olivia felt the merest prick of envy. “Mom, have you been studying with that dog whisperer
again? I thought you’d mastered all there was to know.”

“I’ve moved on to terrier whispering,” Ellie said. “It’s an advanced class. Quite
challenging.” Ellie settled Spunky on his favorite chair, where he melted against
the soft fabric and went into a deep sleep. “He’s exhausted, poor dear.”

“Those two have a lot of nerve,” Bertha said, “barging in here and upsetting poor
little Spunky. He was minding his own business, and that skinny girl put her camera
right in his face and started flashing those terrifying lights at him. He’s just a
tiny tyke. How did she expect him to behave?”

Ellie sighed. “Exactly as he did behave, I expect. I suspect it was Binnie’s idea
to create a distraction, so she could slip away. She wanted a chance to search for
Stacey and her children.”

“Well, Binnie Sloan should be ashamed of herself,” Bertha said. “Spunky gave her just
what she deserved.”

Ellie stared out the front window of The Gingerbread
House so long that Olivia began to feel concerned. “You look worried, Mom. Do you
think Spunky might be in danger?”

Ellie started. “What? Oh, I don’t think so. I’m just having one of my bad feelings.
Perhaps I’d better get going.”

“Is your bad feeling about Stacey and the kids?” Olivia asked.

“Yes, dear, it is. Binnie is no fool. She’ll figure out that if Stacey hasn’t left
Chatterley Heights, our house is her second most logical hiding place. Binnie knows
that I am at The Gingerbread House. She might think this is a good time to peek inside
my home for Stacey and her kids. She might even try to force her way inside.” Without
saying good-bye, Ellie zipped out the front door, already dialing her cell phone.

Business in The Gingerbread House was surprisingly light all Friday morning, a welcome
relief from the crowd of reporters gathered on the porch before the store opened.
Olivia wondered if her customers had grown bored with cookie cutters and only showed
up when they expected excitement. Maddie had scrounged enough cookies to fill a tray,
but the free treats had hardly been touched. Could an entire town lose interest in
such delectable delights? Leaving Bertha and Jennifer to handle the nearly empty sales
floor, Olivia sought out Maddie in the kitchen, where she was decorating the rosewater
cookies for her cookie cake.

“Nonsense, Livie,” Maddie said when Olivia posed the question to her. “It is physically
and spiritually impossible for anyone to become tired of decorated cookies. I suspect
the population of Chatterley Heights is saving its collective appetite for the party
tomorrow.” Maddie plunked tiny pale pink dots on the forest green icing foliage of
a rosebush
cookie. She’d decided to surround the perimeter of the cookie cake with a rose-garden
motif. As she aimed her pastry bag at another cookie, the kitchen phone rang. “Would
you get that, Livie? I’ve been letting it go so as not to waste a minute of precious
decorating time. I figured folks were checking to be sure there’ll be plenty of cookies
for everyone and his second cousin twice removed. I’ve never understood what that
meant.”

Olivia answered the phone and was surprised to hear Stacey Harald’s voice. “Livie?
Don’t say my name out loud, okay? Can you talk?” Stacey sounded rushed.

“Yes, I’m in the store kitchen with Maddie. Are you okay?”

Maddie paused in her decorating to lock eyes with Olivia, who nodded when Maddie whispered,
“Stacey?”

“We’re en route to somewhere or other,” Stacey said. “Your stepdad is driving. He
sneaked us out into the alley behind your house, where we got into an unmarked van.
There are curtains on the back windows, so we won’t be seen. I’m relieved we don’t
have to crouch on the floor. I don’t know how he got hold of this van so fast.”

“Allan knows people,” Olivia said. “Sounds like serious subterfuge. Has something
happened?”

“Your mom had one of her bad feelings. She told us to git, and we’re gittin’ right
now. Listen, Livie, I can’t talk long, and I have a lot to pass on. So don’t ask questions
until I’m finished, okay?”

“Understood,” Olivia said.

“Allan got me this disposable cell phone. When the minutes are gone, we dump the phone.
I’m not even sure where he is taking us, but it doesn’t matter. He just wants to get
us away from the ravenous press, especially Binnie Sloan, may she rot in…never mind,
waste of time.

“Here’s the scoop: Wade is being arraigned for murder,
possibly as we speak.” Stacey’s next words were muffled, but Olivia told herself her
friend was probably trying to calm her kids’ reactions to their dad’s arrest. “Okay,
I’m back. That hammer the police found in the band shell? It had Trevor Lane’s blood
on it. Most of it was washed off, but I guess there was still blood in some cracks,
enough to test. It was Wade’s hammer, the one he always used at Struts & Bolts Garage.
Wade claims it disappeared right before the murder, and Struts backed him up. The
police found Wade’s prints on the handle, smudged but identifiable. That’s all I know.
Tell Maddie I’m sorry. It looks like we won’t be able to make her engagement party.”

“When you are back home with all of this behind you, we three will celebrate,” Olivia
said. “Meanwhile, Maddie and I will do whatever we can to help. It’s possible somebody
killed Trevor with Wade’s hammer and somehow managed to preserve Wade’s fingerprints.”

“I’d like to believe that,” Stacey said with a long sigh. “But when Wade is drinking,
he can be really dumb. I could see him losing it, killing Trevor, and forgetting to
wipe off his own prints. Anyway, thanks for your support and…you know. Oh, and before
my phone croaks, I have a bit of information to pass along. I called my friend Susie
at Twiterton High and asked about Jennifer Elsworth. No such name appeared in the
school records, and no one who fits her description graduated from Twiterton High
when Jennifer would have, or even the following year. However, here’s a wrinkle you
might find interesting.” Stacey’s voice disappeared again.

Olivia took advantage of the break to whisper the information about Jennifer to Maddie.

“I’d better be quick,” Stacey said. “Allan says we’re almost there, wherever ‘there’
is. Susie told me there was a
Jennie who dropped out of Twiterton High after her junior year. She’d just turned
eighteen, so the school didn’t follow up very well. Jennie had a rough life. She hadn’t
made it to school on picture day since middle school, so there’s no photo in their
high school records. Susie asked around the office and found someone who remembers
Jennie vaguely. She was a pretty girl, blond, bright, but very quiet. Missed a lot
of school even before she dropped out. Her mom was an addict. Jennie sort of became
the grown-up who took care of the house and her mom. Her dad was out of the picture,
walked out when Jennie was about eleven.

“Here’s the real interesting part, Livie: Jennie had an older half sister who was
what they used to call “slow.” Susie didn’t know much about the older girl because
she didn’t attend school. There was a rumor Susie didn’t have time to follow up on.
The older half sister died when Jennifer was young, maybe about nine—apparently, that
part is fact. The rumor part is she was murdered.”

“Really? Did Susie mention any suspects?” Olivia saw Maddie’s eyes widen at the mention
of suspects.

“Nope, that’s all I’ve got.”

“Thanks, Stacey. Unless Jennifer connects up with Trevor’s murder, I’ll probably leave
her past alone. After all, she did sell the red mixer for us.”

“Seriously, that thing has been hogging your shelf since you first opened the store.
Must be quite a relief to have it off your hands.”

“Words cannot express…Anyway, hang in there, my friend. You’re in good hands. Maddie
and I will do what we can from this end. Keep those rabid press hounds at bay.”

“I can handle them,” Stacey said. “If they go after my kids, I’ll make them wish they
hadn’t.”

*   *   *

O
livia realized she’d been checking her watch, on average, every five minutes. More
customers might help distract her from her worries about Stacey and her family, but
so far only the curious had stopped by. Olivia had sent Bertha to join Maddie in the
kitchen to help with the decorating. Bertha was delighted with her new assignment.
If she were a smart businesswoman, Olivia told herself, she would send Jennifer home.
But something stopped her. Despite the paucity of customers, Jennifer kept busy, industriously
dusting all the shelves, the cookbooks, even the individual cookie cutters hanging
in mobiles around the room. To a casual observer, Jennifer might appear calm, but
Olivia thought her single-minded focus had a frantic quality.