One Dead Cookie (28 page)

Olivia peeked out to the sales floor and was pleased to see three customers. Bertha
was showing one woman their extensive array of sanding sugars, while Jennifer explained
a variety of decorating tools to the other two. “All quiet on the sales front,” Olivia
said as she moved a kitchen chair next to Maddie at the computer.

“Mostly I found bits and pieces of information, which I’ll go over in a minute,” Maddie
said. “But this is the mother lode. This piece appears to be cut from the
Twiterton Times
weekly newspaper, a 1993 edition. The rest of the date isn’t legible. However, we
can gather from the content that it probably was published in late May. The article
is about the death of Melissa Nortenson, and it mentions she had a younger sister.
I don’t see the sister’s name, though.”

“So in 1993…” Olivia did a quick calculation. “If Jennifer told the truth during her
interview, she is now twenty-eight years old, which means she was about nine in 1993.
Supposedly, that’s when Jennie’s half sister died.”

“Yep,” Maddie said. “So I’ll bet you another red mixer that your brother was right:
Jennie Nortenson and Jennifer Elsworth are indeed one and the same. She attended Twiterton
High at least through junior year, so she couldn’t have left town before about 2000
or 2001.”

“Interesting.” Olivia mentioned Jennifer’s comment that, during their recent visit
to The Gingerbread House, Trevor had “hogged the spotlight,” and Dougie was unhappy
about it. “I wonder if someone told Jennifer about it, or if she really was in the
crowd somewhere,” Olivia said. “She’s been insisting that she didn’t know Trevor or
Dougie at all, but clearly she knew
about
them.”

“I sure didn’t see her during the event, but it was awfully crowded,” Maddie said.
“She wouldn’t have been in high school when they were, but she might have heard about
them. Why would Jennifer want to hide the fact she went to Twiterton High?”

Olivia stretched to loosen a tight shoulder muscle. “Perhaps to keep her identity
a secret.” She squinted at the fuzzy print on the computer screen. “I wonder who posted
this piece. It looks choppy, as if someone cut it apart and
reassembled it, maybe to delete specific information. If your eyes are so great, tell
me what it says.”

“Sure, but first, about how this piece got itself posted…” Maddie clicked away and
scrolled through some unintelligible information. “It’s sort of like an anonymous
website. Whoever did this knew what he or she was doing. This involved skilled programming.
The identifying information is encrypted. I can’t figure out where it was sent from.”

“Jennifer just told me she doesn’t use the Internet,” Olivia said.

“Then either she’s lying, or someone else did this. I’m good, but not good enough
to translate all this stuff. We’d need a younger computer genius with a more extensive
skill set than even I possess. However, I can tell you what the article says, minus
a few unintelligible words.”

“I’ll settle for that,” Olivia said. “But use your low-energy voice, just in case.”

“I’ll be positively pooped,” Maddie said. “In fact, to save energy, I’ll simply summarize
this article for you. Anyway, it’s too sad to read word for word. Melissa Nortenson,
age sixteen, was found dead at the base of a cliff not far from Twiterton. Cause of
death was a broken neck. Foul play not ruled out but no viable suspects were identified.
Some unnamed persons were questioned but apparently had alibis. Bruising on the arms
and wrists suggests a possible struggle. Victim described as a pretty redhead with
limited mental capacity. Due to the latter, she did not attend the local high school
but was homeschooled.”

“Homeschooled,” Olivia said. “By her addict mother and nine-year-old sister?”

“Don’t be hasty, Livie, we don’t actually know that the mother was an addict at the
time of Melissa’s death.”

“Good point.” Olivia thought about how she would feel if she had a daughter whose
life was cut short in such an ugly way. “I suppose the addiction might have followed
the death of her daughter. Or she returned to a habit she had kicked earlier, maybe
for the sake of her children.”

Maddie stared at the screen for a few moments. “We keep hearing about Melissa’s ‘slowness’
or ‘mental incapacity.’ What if her mother was hooked on drugs when she had Melissa,
then kicked the habit when she realized how her child had been affected? That might
explain why Jennifer seems quite intelligent.”

“Makes sense,” Olivia said. “Grief led the mother back to drugs, and her younger,
healthier daughter became her caregiver. Poor woman.”

“Poor Jennifer.” Maddie closed the computer screen.

“Stacey’s friend said Jennifer had a half sister,” Olivia said. “So the father who
left after his wife turned back to drugs might have been—”

“Jennifer’s father!” Maddie clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oops. Sorry, too much
energy.” Settling back in her chair, Maddie skimmed the text again. “An unnamed younger
sister is mentioned, but that’s all.”

“Which makes me wonder if Jennifer might have posted this piece herself.”

Maddie shrugged. “Because she isn’t identified by name? I’ve never seen Jennifer go
near a computer, so I can’t judge her skill level. She could be a genius hacker for
all I know and lying about her abilities. On the other hand, maybe she had help with
this post.”

“The real question,” Olivia said, “is
why
? What did she, or possibly someone else, hope to accomplish by posting this anonymous
piece about Melissa’s death?”

“Perhaps she hopes someone out there knows her sister
was murdered and by whom.” Maddie slumped back in her chair and stared at the screen.
“Here’s the odd part. There’s no way to post comments. Maybe this was meant as a warning
to one person. ‘I know what you did….’ You know, to flush out a suspect.”

“How would it reach the suspects?”

Maddie laughed. “Easy, the same way folks download malware. You hack into address
books and send an email with a link in it to all the people on the list. The email
looks like it’s coming from a friend, so some recipients won’t think twice about clicking
on the link.
Et voyeur
, you’ve downloaded something nasty to your computer.” Maddie frowned. “I didn’t get
that French phrase right, did I?”

“I don’t keep you around for your expertise in French,” Olivia said.

“Thanks ever so much.”

Olivia’s mind was spinning with too many possibilities. “If Jennifer had anything
to do with this post, maybe Binnie is on to something. I can’t believe I said that.”

“There’s no way Jennifer could have carried Trevor to our porch.”

“I know,” Olivia said.

“Do you think she had help? Dougie could have carried him. Or Howie, or Wade? Or maybe
all of them?”

“I’m not sure I—”

“Ooh, maybe it was like that short story we read in English class. Remember, Livie?
There was this lottery, and everyone in the village had to take a number…I forget
the rest. Anyway, maybe Jennifer, Dougie, and Howie are all in on it together, and
they picked straws to see who would kill Trevor. Maybe they picked Wade as the fall
guy because he’s such an obvious suspect with an obvious motive.”

“Down, girl,” Olivia said. “No more sugar for you.”

Maddie hopped out of her seat as if her energy had reached the point of explosion.
“I think better on dancing feet.” She executed a quick spin toward the worktable.
“If I may take a leap of logic,” she said, “what if Jennifer suspected Trevor had
something to do with Melissa’s death? What if that post was also sent to Trevor personally
as a warning that she was on to him? What if Trevor tracked Jennifer down and trekked
all the way to Chatterley Heights, um…to buy her off or something? I’m running out
of what-ifs.”

“Thank goodness.”

“Fine, let’s hear your theory,” Maddie said as she began to pack up the remaining
cooled and decorated cookies for the party.

“I don’t have a clear theory yet.” Olivia stood up and stretched. “However, I do think
you’ve done a good job of identifying the suspects in Trevor’s murder. I’d still add
Wade Harald to the list. And yes, we need to consider the possibility that two or
more of them cooperated in the murder.”

“As long as my brilliance is recognized,” Maddie said. “Oh, and I almost forgot.”
With no apparent effort, she accessed Olivia’s account. “As requested…”

Olivia took Maddie’s place and read Allan’s email:

“I assume you read this?” Olivia asked.

“I did. Sobering.”

Olivia deleted Allan’s message and closed the computer lid.

“So, what’s next?” Maddie asked. “More computer searches?”

“Did you look for any other references to Melissa Nortenson’s death?” Olivia asked.

“I meant to dig deeper for that,” Maddie said as she opened the laptop. “Thanks for
reminding me.” Her fingers bounced around the keyboard at a dizzying pace. “Ah, this
looks like a good one. It’s from the
Baltimore Sun
, a few weeks after Melissa’s death.”

Olivia drew her chair closer. “Good choice. This discusses the investigation. Looks
like the police hit a brick wall until…” She pointed to a paragraph near the end.
“Can you read this?”

“Oh. My. God. Trevor Lane was a suspect. I knew it! This could be the connection we’ve
been looking for,” Maddie said. “A classmate claimed to have seen him with Melissa
earlier in the evening. The classmate isn’t named.”

“Not surprising,” Olivia said. “I see that Trevor was questioned and released due
to lack of physical evidence, plus a friend, also unnamed, came forward to give him
an alibi.”

“Do you think the friend was Dougie?” Maddie’s mood had sobered. “I sort of liked
Dougie. Would he lie for Trevor?”

“Probably. If he did, that lie might have secured a lifetime job for him.” Despite
the warmth in the kitchen, Olivia shivered.

“Golly.”

Olivia glanced up at the kitchen clock. “We close in two hours. How ready are we for
the party tomorrow afternoon?”

“We have baked and decorated with superhuman speed, so we’re nearly finished. The
cookie cake is ready for assembly, which will be a snap. All we’ll need is a small
batch of royal icing to glue the cookies together in a pyramid. Oh, and we need those
rose petals, though I’m beginning to lose hope. If they don’t arrive in the next—”

As if on cue, they heard a tentative knock on the kitchen door, and Bertha poked her
head inside. “Snoop—I mean, Sam Parnell is here with a package for you, Maddie. I
tried to get it away from him, but he insisted it’s his duty as a representative of
the United States Postal Service to deliver important packages in person. What should
I do with him?”

“Knock him on the head, tie his hands, gag him, and lock him in the inventory closet,”
Maddie said with unseemly glee. “Only don’t damage the package.”

Bertha’s lips parted, but no words emerged.

“Tempting,” Olivia said, “but impractical. There isn’t much room in the closet, and
Sam might mess with the inventory. You’d better bring him into the kitchen. Thanks,
Bertha.”

Bertha nodded and withdrew. Olivia heard a distinct giggle before the door shut.

Olivia shot a stern glance at her friend. “Have you gotten those snarky impulses out
of your system, Maddie? Because we don’t need Sam on the warpath more than he already
is.”

Maddie smiled in a way that wasn’t entirely reassuring. “Just girlish high spirits,”
she said. “Or maybe wedding nerves. Take your pick. And don’t look at me like that,
Livie. I’ll be good.”

Before Olivia could respond, Sam barged into the kitchen as if a stove had caught
fire and he was rushing in to save the womenfolk. “My shift’s over,” Sam said in a
nasal whine that made everything sound like a complaint. “I volunteered to drop off
this Express Mail delivery on my way home. I figured it was important for your little
shindig tomorrow.” He held a white box with a blue stripe tightly against his chest.
When Olivia reached toward the package, Sam took a step back and sniffed the air.
Focusing on a cooking rack covered with decorated cookies, he said, “Smells good in
here. I got a shift tomorrow afternoon, so I won’t be able to make it to your little
get-together. I sure hate to miss those cookies.”

Olivia exchanged a quick glance with Maddie. “We can fix that, Sam. Why not have a
cookie now? We’ve made plenty of extras. Have a seat, and I’ll pour you a cup of coffee.”
Olivia emptied the last of the coffee into a clean cup and placed it on the kitchen
table.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Sam scraped a chair over to the table and sat down. The smug
grin on his face made Olivia uneasy. When Sam was in a good mood, it usually meant
he was about to deliver unsettling gossip.

Maddie plunked two cookies on a plate and clattered it on the table near Sam. He picked
up a fuchsia-striped wedding cake, and said, “I suppose you’re all in a tizzy about
that party. Women get so worked up over these things.”

Maddie and Olivia were standing on either side of Sam’s chair. They locked eyes over
his head. Maddie’s expression said,
May I tear him limb from limb now?
Sam squirmed in his seat as if he sensed the silent communication between the two
friends. He scooped up the second cookie, scraped back his chair, and stood up. “Well,
gotta get going,” he said. Leaving a nearly full coffee cup, Sam took a step
toward the kitchen door, hesitated, and turned around to face the women. “I’m surprised
to find you two acting so calm, like nothing is wrong,” he said. “I mean, considering
the trouble your friend is in.”