Tammy stayed home from school on Monday, so she had no alibi for the period preceding Sam’s collapse. Olivia remembered that on Mondays, Clarisse made the rounds of her businesses, to keep tabs on operations. She’d mentioned more than once that the boys did the same. So Hugh or Edward also had opportunities to leave those cookies for Sam.
Olivia couldn’t shake the conviction that Clarisse had learned something about Jasmine’s fate. Something that disturbed her deeply. And she was killed to keep her quiet. Olivia stretched her hand toward the passenger’s seat and touched the small bag that held Clarisse’s cookie cutters. It was made of soft cloth to buffer the cutters against an ungentle world.
A glance in her rearview mirror revealed a car gaining on her fast. Her first instinct was to speed up, but she hesitated. The next patch of road had several curves, one of which had sent many a drunk driver into the ditch. The driver behind was clearly in a hurry. He’d try to pass her. If she sped up, he might do so, too. She decided to slow down, let him pass.
Olivia took her foot off the accelerator and slowed to twenty-five miles per hour. Then to fifteen. The car seemed to be flying closer, as if the driver hadn’t noticed her. Olivia wasn’t skilled at identifying a car’s make and model, but the one behind her looked like a beater. Probably a teenager, maybe talking on a cell phone—or worse, texting.
She edged to the side of the road. There was no shoulder, only a culvert. As she headed up a hill, the drop-off deepened. She was going so slowly, she had to accelerate to get up the hill. Maybe it was for the best. If the kid didn’t come to his senses in time, he’d rear-end her.
On her descent down the hill, Olivia picked up more speed. She was heading for the final hill, the bane of drunk drivers. Beyond that she would hit a straight stretch, a good place for passing. She increased her speed, hoping to put more distance between the two cars. She’d have to slow down a bit to take the treacherous double curve that began just over the crest, but she’d done it many times before.
The car continued to gain on her. Olivia nudged her accelerator as she began to ascend. For the first time, she could see the driver in her rearview mirror. The quickest of glances showed curly hair on a bobbing head. The driver’s shoulders seemed to be dancing. It was a kid all right, lost in an iPod world, swaying to the music. And she was a girl, not a boy.
Olivia had no time to ponder her misdirected sexism. She was about to crest the infamous hill. She tapped her brakes to slow down, so she could accelerate into the curve. Her speed didn’t change. She pumped the brakes. Nothing happened. Finally, she jammed down, and the pedal hit the floor without resistance. That’s when she knew. She had no brakes.
Olivia gripped the steering wheel with all her strength. She hovered her foot above the accelerator, letting the engine drag slow the Valiant. Only when she’d entered the curve did she press lightly on the accelerator, figuring she’d have more control. She focused so intensely on the road that her mind noted the cracks in the pavement, each telling dent in the low guardrail. She didn’t dare blink.
Despite a deep swerve into the oncoming lane, Olivia managed to navigate the first curve. However, she was now going downhill, picking up too much speed. She couldn’t afford to keep her foot on the accelerator. All she had left was her steering wheel. She was clutching it so hard her fingers began to cramp as she headed into the second curve.
At the sound of screeching tires, Olivia’s eyes flashed to her rearview mirror. She noted with relief that the car behind her had cleared the first curve and slowed enough to make a rear-end crash unlikely. A split second later, she saw the front end of her car rush toward a badly damaged section of guardrail. Her last thought was how unfair it was. She wasn’t even drunk.
Chapter Twenty-two
The voice sounded close. Was someone in the house? In her bedroom? Not a threatening voice, though . . . Concerned, maybe . . . And young, very young.
“Wake up, please wake up,” the voice said. “Please don’t be dead. I can’t handle that.”
Olivia recognized the words but couldn’t figure out how they went together. Where was she? She opened her eyes. Through a window she saw tree tops and trunks, with sky behind them.
“What happened?” Olivia’s voice sounded weak, but at least it worked.
“You’re alive! Oh, thank God! Does anything hurt? Well, of course, everything must hurt. No wait, don’t move, the paramedic said not to move you unless the car was on fire, which it isn’t.”
“Para . . . ?”
“I called 911. They said to stay with you, so I did. Don’t you remember anything at all?”
The voice, Olivia realized, belonged to a woman, but it wasn’t familiar. “Nothing.” She leaned her head back as exhaustion flooded through her. The feel of the headrest triggered a thought. “I’m in a car,” she said.
“Right, you were driving. I’m Julie, by the way. You don’t have to remember that, just relax.” Sirens whined in the distance. “Oh good, here they come. Sit still, okay? It won’t be long. I’ll be right here.”
Olivia began to drift, but the siren screamed until it filled her head. Then it stopped. She groaned, closed her eyes, and gave up trying to understand. A light touch on her shoulder brought her back.
“Livie, don’t try to move yet. The paramedics are arriving. They’ll take care of you.” It was a male voice, familiar, gentle. A nice voice.
“I’m fine, really,” Olivia insisted. She dragged herself to a sitting position in her hospital bed.” A few bruises, that’s all. Something knocked the breath out of me.”
“Crashing into a guardrail will do that,” Del said.
“Is my car salvageable?”
“It’s a mess, but not as bad as it could have been. Those old Valiants are solid . . . Jason towed your car back to the garage. He’ll look it over and see what he can figure out.”
“Figure out?”
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
Olivia closed her eyes and tried to think back. She remembered leaving the Chamberlain house, driving toward Chatterley Heights. Something about a car behind her had caught her attention, worried her. Then it went blank. “Nothing specific.”
“Your brakes went out,” Del said, “and I want to know why. Jason swears those brakes were in great shape when he tuned your car a month ago.”
“Can’t brakes simply give out?”
Del snorted. “Your brother is a first-rate mechanic, not to mention a perfectionist. If there’s a mechanical explanation for those brakes croaking, he’ll find it.”
“What other explanation would there be?”
“I want you to stay here in the hospital for a while,” Del said. “Now don’t argue. It’s only for a few hours. Cody will be here until we can locate Ellie and Allan to come get you.”
“That I do remember. Allan is out of town on business until Monday evening, and Mom is in Clarksville at a kung fu competition. She would have left right after her book group and probably forgot to turn her phone back on.”
“Well, Maddie, then. She was trying to rush down here when I told her what happened, but I asked her to wait so I could talk to you. She can come after the store closes.”
“Lay off, will you? I’m a big girl, and I feel fine. I’ve had all the X-rays; nothing is broken or lacerated. I’m a little bruised, that’s all.”
Del frowned at the floor, a worry wrinkle between his eyebrows.
Olivia tried to push to a sitting position and winced at the pain that seared through her shoulder. “Del, do you suspect my accident wasn’t really an accident? Is that why you’re so eager to hear what Jason finds, you think someone tampered with my brakes?”
Del shrugged into his uniform jacket. “I’ll tell you what. If Jason says it was an accident, I’ll let Cody drive you home. Otherwise, I want you here overnight, under guard. So stay put for now.”
When Olivia’s cell phone rang, she was dressed, sitting up in her hospital bed, and losing her seventh game of hea
rts to Deputy Cody. She stretched toward her cell, blessing the medication the doctor had given her. She was aware of the pain, she just didn’t care.
“You okay?” Cody asked.
“Fine.” She clicked on her phone. “Jason? Speak to me.”
“I live to obey you.”
Cody signaled to Olivia that he was stepping out of the room for a moment. She nodded as Jason said, “Del’s on his way, and I wanted to give you a heads-up. Your car had no brake fluid; that’s why the pedal went to the floor without resistance. I found a nice, clean hole, enough to cause a slow leak. No scratching or anything, so it wasn’t done with gravel or rocks.”
“So you’re saying . . .”
“Someone tampered with your brakes, Liv. This is serious.”
“I see. Listen, did you find a bag of cookie cutters on my front seat?”
“Yeah, miraculously unhurt. I swung by the store and left them with Maddie.”
“Good.” Olivia hung up before Jason could resume his lecture. She swung her legs off the bed. Wobbly, but serviceable. She grabbed her jacket and headed for the hospital room door.
No one was in the hallway. Olivia hurried to the stairwell, went down the one flight, and exited through a delivery door at the back of the hospital. Bless those summer weeks she’d spent as a teenage volunteer at Chatterley Heights’s small hospital.
A young orderly stood on the delivery platform, lighting a cigarette. He glanced at Olivia, but his eyes didn’t linger. Her bruises were hidden by clothing, and at thirty-one, she was beyond his interest.
The hospital was four blocks north of The Gingerbread House. Olivia zipped up her jacket and tried to look as if she were out for a spring walk. Two teenage girls, deep in conversation, passed without glancing at her. Once she was alone on the sidewalk, Olivia pulled her cell from her jacket pocket and speed-dialed Maddie’s number. The call went to voice mail. Olivia tried the store number next.
“Gingerbread House, how may I help you?” Maddie sounded less perky than usual.
“It’s me.”
“Livie! What’s going on? I’ve been so worried that—”
“I’ll be there in five minutes. Are any customers in the store?”
“One woman looking at cookbooks, but she keeps checking her watch. I think she’s waiting for someone.”
Olivia shot her wrist out of her jacket sleeve and checked her own watch. “It’s almost five. See if you can shove her out the door, gently of course, then lock up. I’ll come in from the alley and stay in the kitchen until you’ve cleared the store.”
“Ooh, mysterious.” Maddie sounded more like herself.
“And one more thing. Del will be heading our way. I have a head start, but to be on the safe side, get the store closed fast.”
“Won’t he come to the back door?”
“I want to slow him down so you and I can get to the same page. Look, I’m a block away. We’ll talk soon.”
Maddie was waiting in the kitchen and rushed toward Olivia when she arrived. “Are you sure you should be here? Are you really okay? Is anything broken?” Maddie asked, watching as Olivia shook two pills from a bottle of ibuprofen and washed them down with coffee.
“I’m fine, really. These things are great for a simple headache,” Olivia said, clutching the pill bottle in her hand.” I’m not sure how much help they’ll be right now, but it’s worth a shot.” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a prescription bottle of Vicadon. “The doctor gave me these for pain. They’re great, but they prevent coherent thought.” Her shock had worn off, to be replaced by aching ribs, a painful shoulder, and a headache. Neck pain would probably follow, according to the doctor who had examined her at the hospital.
“Let me get this straight.” Maddie hoisted herself onto the worktable and swung her legs. “You were just banged up in a car crash and snuck out of the hospital. Del is about to arrive here via the warpath, ready to order thee to a nunnery, or at least a safe house for the duration. But you and I will co-opt him into helping us flush out whoever killed Clarisse and attacked you and Sam. Have I got that right?”
“Basically.” Olivia opened a drawer next to the sink and deposited the prescription bottle. If Del saw it, he’d use it as ammunition to keep her out of the action.
“Not to cast doubt on your master planning skills, but how are we supposed to accomplish all that?” Maddie asked.
A sharp, imperious rap on the alley door ended their discussion. “Show time,” Olivia said. “Follow my lead.” She held open the door as Del barged into the kitchen.
Del glared at Maddie, then zeroed in on Olivia. “I should have told the nurse to lock up your clothes.”
“It’s good to see you, too.”
Maddie slid off the table and took a clean mug from the sink strainer. “We made a fresh pot of coffee,” she said.
“I don’t want coffee.” Del crossed his arms over his chest.
Maddie offered him a filled cup. “Let me take that jacket. It looks snug across the shoulders. Been working out, have you?” Del ignored her. Maddie opened the freezer door, extracted a decorated cookie in the shape of a cardinal, put it on a small plate. She placed the coffee and cookie on the counter next to Del. “Frozen cookies are great for dunking. Sure I can’t take that coat?”
“Stop talking and leave. I need to talk to Livie alone.”
Maddie resumed her seat on the table. “I don’t think so. Over to you, Livie.”
“We have a couple items to show you,” Olivia said, “and some information we think you’ll want to hear. So sit down, dunk that cookie, and unclench those jaw muscles while I get organized.” When Del didn’t budge, she picked up the cup and plate and plunked them on the table. Pulling out a chair, she said, “Sit. I’ll be right back.”
Spunky met her at the door with frantic yapping and whining. She’d forgotten all about him, poor little guy. She noticed he’d had an accident of his own, though he had used a puppy pad.
From the small safe in her office, Olivia removed the bag of Clarisse’s cookie cutters Maddie had stowed away after Jason had delivered them. Olivia also retrieved Clarisse’s letter, dated shortly before her death, and the letter from Faith she had found in the store’s antiques cabinet. She gathered up all the other information she and Maddie had printed off the Internet, including the article about a black-haired dead woman. After dropping all the items into a bag with handles, she picked up her desperate pet and returned to The Gingerbread House.
The silence was palpable when Olivia and Spunky entered the kitchen. At least Del’s cookie had been nibbled and he had surrendered his jacket. Spunky wriggled out of her arm and raced around the kitchen, conducting a frenetic sniffing exploration. Olivia noticed Del’s eyes following the process, and she was sure his tight expression softened.
While Maddie refilled mugs with coffee and a plate with frozen cookies, Olivia spread her evidence on the table. Del read the letter from Clarisse first. Then he moved on to Faith’s note. “Who is this Faith?”
“Not a clue,” Olivia said. “At first I thought it might not be a person but rather a closing for the note—like ‘Keep the Faith’ or something. In her letter, Clarisse mentioned Faith might be a blackmailer. But I’m not so sure. To me, this looks like part of a letter, the end. I suspect Clarisse wanted me to know what was going on, in case something happened to her. She was supremely confident, but realistic, too. I think she sensed danger.”
Del put the note aside and turned to the two articles about an unidentified, dark-haired woman found dead in the Patuxent River State Park. When he finished, he stared at nothing for some time. Olivia clenched her teeth to keep from interrupting his thoughts. Even Maddie kept still.
Finally, Del gathered the papers into a pile and placed his palm over them. “Why didn’t you turn these over to me?”
“I just did,” Olivia said evenly.
“You know what I mean.”
Olivia shrugged. “Clarisse entrusted me with those lette
rs, and she didn’t want her privacy violated. She wouldn’t have wanted it violated after her death, either. You kept insisting she died either by accident or by her own hand. I figured you would argue that someone was trying to blackmail her and that’s why she was upset. The letters alone don’t really prove she was murdered. It was those articles Maddie found that began to point me toward a possible motive.”
“I don’t see the significance of the articles,” Del said.
“We haven’t found anyone who has heard from Jasmine since she left town so suddenly.”
“Jasmine?”
“Jasmine Dubois.” Olivia was trying to keep the impatience out of her voice. “If Clarisse did have a grandchild, Jasmine was most likely to be the mother.”
Del looked genuinely puzzled. “The name sounds vaguely familiar, but . . .” He lifted his hand and picked up one of the articles about the dead woman. “Ah, I see. This happened six years ago. Eight years ago, my marriage broke up.” He dropped the paper back on his pile and went silent.
Del had never mentioned his broken marriage to Olivia. Not that she was curious, of course. But if Del began to feel self-conscious, he might not explain what his divorce had to do with Jasmine. With a slight shake of her head, Olivia warned Maddie to stay quiet.
Del said, “I needed to get away for a while, so I took a deputy job in a little town in northern Minnesota for two years. Learned a lot. Then the sheriff here retired, and I got the job. End of story. So, who is Jasmine and why is she important?”
Olivia’s energy had begun to flag; she needed a few moments to regroup. She shot a pleading look at Maddie, who gave her an understanding nod.
“Here’s the scoop,” Maddie said. “Hugh, Edward, and Clarisse all thought Jasmine was wonderful. Daddy Chamberlain and jealous girlfriend, Tammy Deacons, begged to differ. One moment Jasmine was a fixture at Pete’s Diner, raking in tips from admiring customers and hanging out with the Chamberlain brothers. The next moment, she had disappeared, leaving confused and broken hearts, never to be heard from again. Those who knew her seem vague about where she came from in the first place.”
Cookie Dough or Die Page 22
