“Yes, dear, I know.” There was a smile in Ellie’s voice. “I must go soon. Alicia should be settled in at home, and she will be hungry. I’m so glad she brought some belongings with her, so she needn’t face that bully of a stepfather again for a while. Before I leave, I’ll just check in with Bertha and Maddie, who are minding the sales floor. Oh, and Livie, I have an idea I think you’ll like. Why don’t you come to dinner this evening? I’ll invite Maddie and Lucas, too. You see, I have a tiny scheme.”
“Is that like a plan, only smaller?” Olivia asked.
“Exactly, dear. I want to create a warm, safe, family atmosphere for poor Alicia.”
“And the scheming part would be . . . ?” Olivia raised her eyebrows at Del, who was listening intently as he worked his way through his tuna salad.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Ellie asked. “I’m hoping Alicia will feel relaxed enough to talk openly and honestly about her father. It would be so therapeutic for her, don’t you think?”
“Therapeutic,” Olivia said with a quick glance at Del. “Yes, I agree completely. Very thoughtful of you, Mom. Can I bring anything?”
“These cookies are remarkably good,” Ellie said. “I’d ask you to bring Del, too, but I’m afraid his presence might make Alicia feel threatened.”
Olivia chuckled. “He’ll survive the rejection. And I think we can rustle up more cookies. Maddie keeps churning them out so we’ll always have plenty on hand for last-minute crises. Assuming you haven’t cleaned us out, that is.”
“I’ve put the pan back on top of the fridge, Livie. And now I need to go for another run, or I’ll never shed that extra pound. Bye!” The phone went dead.
“How’s your mom?” Del asked. “And were you discussing what to do with Alicia Vayle?”
“Mom has ballooned up to one hundred pounds, and yes.” Olivia stuffed a forkful of tuna salad into her mouth. She had some catching up to do. Del had almost finished his meal.
“So I’m guessing Ellie and Allan have invited Alicia to stay with them, right? Which means you, Maddie, and the rest of your family intend to pump her for information about her family. Honestly, Livie, sometimes I wonder why Chatterley Heights even bothers with a sheriff.”
Olivia took another substantial bite of tuna salad.
“I guess I should feel relieved,” Del said as he opened his wallet. “If you are spending the evening with your family, at least you should be reasonably safe from harm for a while.”
Olivia grinned. “I love you, too,” she said, although a mouthful of tuna salad rather spoiled her delivery.
Chapter Eight
After lunch with Del, Olivia returned to The Gingerbread House feeling energized and ready to tackle whatever the afternoon might toss at her. Or so she thought. She hadn’t expected to find a small group of customers clustered near the opening to the cookbook nook, whispering and giggling as they peered inside. Maddie and Bertha were supposed to be minding the store, but Olivia didn’t see them on the sales floor. Even Spunky had abandoned his favorite chair in front of the window, where he normally accepted ear rubs and secret treats from customers.
Olivia joined the enthralled group at the cookbook nook entrance. At five foot seven, she could peek into the nook over the shoulders of other curious onlookers, all of whom were women. Olivia couldn’t see much at first. The lighting in the cookbook nook was normally kept fairly low to create a cozy ambience. A floor lamp stood between two roomy armchairs. Usually, the lamp was left lit for customers who wished to relax and peruse a cookbook. Now the lamp was switched off and pushed away from the chairs. Olivia soon realized why . . . to keep it from toppling.
It took Olivia several moments to process the full tableau. Her mother stood—balanced, as always—on the seat of one armchair, while Bertha, who was taller and heftier, stood on the floor next to her. Maddie wobbled on the seat of the second chair. All three women faced the wall, their arms reaching up toward the narrow ledge behind the chairs. Olivia’s heart did a flip as she saw a petite figure, partially hidden in shadow, teetering close to the edge. For a moment, the light caught the unmistakable features of Lenora Bouchenbein. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Olivia realized the elderly woman was tipsy.
Olivia reminded herself that the ledge was actually the top of a sturdy knee wall. Olivia had added it to the room for display purposes, rather than structural support. However, she knew it was stable and wide enough to support Lenora’s small frame. Unfortunately, the ledge was halfway up the wall, and Lenora seemed unaware that she might easily lose her balance and fall. She waved with both arms, as if she were facing a large, enthusiastic audience.
Olivia snaked through the onlookers until she reached Ellie’s chair. “Let me take your spot, Mom,” she said. “I’m taller.”
“Gladly, dear.” Ellie hopped off the armchair. “There was quite a bit of sherry left in that bottle, wasn’t there?”
“Yep,” Olivia said. “It was nearly full.” She stepped up onto the chair’s soft seat and stabilized herself as best she could by wedging her legs against its wide arms. As she reached up, Lenora threw out her arms as if she were about to take a bow. She closed her eyes, bowed her head, and began to fall forward.
“Lenora.” Olivia tried to imitate her mother’s ‘don’t argue with me’ tone, which she remembered so well from childhood. “Lenora, open your eyes and focus on my face.”
“Who is it?” Lenora sounded frightened. She opened her eyes and flailed her arms, like a tiny bird caught in a crosswind. “Oh! The stage is too bright,” she cried. “The light . . . it’s blinding me.”
“There’s nothing to worry about, Lenora,” Olivia said. “It’s me, Livie. I’ll help you get away from the light.” She couldn’t quite reach Lenora’s waist, so she gripped the frail woman’s bony hips. “I’m going to help you down off the stage. Don’t worry, I’m holding on to you. I’ll catch you if you slip.” Olivia fervently hoped that was true.
“But I haven’t finished my speech,” Lenora wailed. “It’s the dramatic high point of the story.” She veered to the right, as if she were heading for a new spot on the stage.
“You can finish later, dear.” Ellie scrambled onto the arm of the chair, in case Lenora fell sideways. “After the light has been adjusted, you can pick up where you left off.”
“The light, too bright.” Lenora sounded like a frustrated child. “I have to test it, you see. It’s about verishim . . . verishiml . . .”
“Verisimilitude?” Ellie put a supporting arm around Lenora’s waist. “I understand perfectly, dear. It’s quite true that a scene must seem real to the audience.”
Lenora nodded once and went limp, slipping from Olivia’s grasp. Ellie staggered as Lenora’s dead weight fell against her. Olivia quickly grabbed Lenora by the waist and, with Ellie’s help, lowered the limp woman down to a chair, then to the floor. Olivia and Maddie slung Lenora’s arms around their shoulders and carried her toward the Gingerbread House kitchen. Olivia was aware they had provided what Lenora longed for—an avid audience. Olivia glanced back at Bertha, who nodded as if to say I’ll handle things out here. As Ellie opened the kitchen door, Olivia and Maddie dragged Lenora inside and lowered her on to a chair. Gently, Olivia placed Lenora’s head on the kitchen worktable.
“Should I call 911?” Ellie asked.
“I think not,” Maddie said.
“But she’s unconscious.” Ellie reached for the kitchen phone.
Exchanging a glance with Maddie, Olivia said, “While we were carting Lenora to the kitchen, we distinctly heard her snore.”
As if on cue, Lenora lifted her head and opened her eyes. “The show,” she said, “muth go on.”
“Yes, Lenora, dear,” Ellie said. “You carried on despite everything.”
Olivia noted that while Lenora’s pale blue eyes might be open, they weren’t focusing well. Lenora reached toward a cooling
rack on the table and tried to grab a cookie. Instead, she picked up an empty saucer. Olivia took it from her as she tried to take a bite out of it.
“You are too thin, Lenora,” Ellie said as she put a cookie in Lenora’s outstretched hand. “You don’t eat enough to keep a bird alive.”
Olivia squelched a giggle as she recalled her ornithologist father telling her that some birds eat five times their own weight every day. Much like a bird, however, Lenora stayed slender despite her habit of stealing food off any plate within snatching distance. Olivia was jealous of her metabolism, if that explained her thinness.
Ellie sidled up to Olivia and whispered, “I’ve seen Lenora down numerous glasses of wine without a problem. If she drained the better part of a bottle of sherry into an empty stomach, no wonder she was so affected. This is quite worrisome.”
Maddie poured a cup of coffee and brought it to Lenora, who had finished her cookie. As Maddie wrapped Lenora’s hands around the mug, she winked toward Olivia and Ellie. “Have a drink, Lenora,” Maddie said. “It will make you feel better.” Lenora smiled happily as Maddie guided the mug to her mouth. She drank obediently, then accepted another cookie.
Ellie pulled Olivia aside, and said, “I ran into Gwen at the grocery this morning. She was stocking up on cat food. She mentioned to me how excited Lenora was about the . . . you know, about the discovery yesterday. Anyway, Gwen said that Lenora stayed up most of the night, pacing and talking to herself about the bones in the wall, as if she were acting in a play.”
“She thinks she is writing one,” Olivia said.
“Oh dear. Perhaps she became so absorbed in her creative work that she simply forgot to eat.”
“If you say so, Mom.” Olivia could not imagine forgetting to eat.
Maddie joined them. “This is all my fault, Livie,” she said. “After you left to have lunch with Del, I let Lenora stay in the kitchen by herself. She insisted she needed to work on her play, and I didn’t see the harm. The sherry bottle had already slipped my mind. After a time, Lenora showed up in the cookbook nook. She said she needed to ‘sit in the twilight and create.’ A group of women from the Twiterton Cookie Cutter Collectors Club had just arrived by van, so Bertha and I were distracted, and, well . . . The next thing we knew, Lenora was standing on that ledge in the cookbook nook, reciting something that I might have recognized as dialogue if I were fluent in gibberish. I guess Lenora thought the women from the Cookie Cutter Collectors Club had come to watch her perform.”
“Maddie, you couldn’t have known,” Olivia said. “We’re too busy to police Lenora. I’d have forgotten about the sherry, too, even though Mom had reminded me about it. However, we will never again leave alcohol in the store kitchen. At least Lenora wasn’t injured, so no permanent harm was done.”
With a troubled glance toward Lenora, Ellie said, “I’m not so sure, Livie.” Her hazel eyes seemed to darken as a row of worry wrinkles gathered between her eyebrows. “You see, Binnie was here.”
Olivia felt her stomach begin to churn. She and Maddie exchanged troubled glances. “Oh great, that’s just what we need now,” Olivia said. “Binnie Sloan and her wretched little recorder.”
“I wish it had been a recorder, Livie,” Ellie said. “With her niece-photographer out of town, Binnie broke down and got herself a smartphone.”
“So Binnie has photos. That is troubling.” Olivia glanced over at Lenora, who had fallen asleep face down on her crossed arms. “At least Binnie wasn’t around for the grand finale.”
Ellie began to braid a lock of her long, gray hair.
“What is it, Mom?” Olivia asked. “You’re doing that nervous thing again.”
“Oh, am I?” Ellie tossed the partial braid over her shoulder. “I was just remembering . . . I’m afraid Binnie’s timing was rather unfortunate. Before you arrived, Livie, Lenora tried to fly off that ledge. I think she believed she was playing the role of Peter Pan. In Lenora’s version, though, Peter Pan had come back to life after being trapped inside a wall for decades.”
“Really? So she’d already fallen once before I came along? I’m amazed she managed to climb back up there.” Olivia glanced at Maddie. “Or did you catch her?”
Maddie shook her head. “Believe it or not, Lenora managed to right herself by waving her arms madly. I grabbed her ankles, and Bertha tried to steady her. I don’t know if Binnie caught that maneuver on her smartphone, too. She seemed in a hurry to make an exit.”
“We are doomed,” Olivia said.
Maddie patted Olivia’s shoulder. “Now, Livie, perhaps it will all work out for the best. When Lenora sees herself acting crazy, maybe she’ll be so shocked she’ll lay off the booze for a while. Or is that just me being unrealistically hopeful again?”
“I’m afraid it’s worse than that,” Olivia said. “Once those photos hit Binnie’s infernal blog, which should be any minute now, everyone within a wider radius than Chatterley Heights will know that Lenora is writing a play about those bones. What if there’s someone out there who thinks he or she got away with murder, and now this elderly actress is determined to dredge up the mystery by turning it into a play?”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Maddie said. “Lenora isn’t a very good sleuth. She’ll just make up some wild, improbable fantasy.”
“We think that,” Olivia said, “but what about someone with a very guilty conscience . . . or no conscience at all?”
Chapter Nine
After Lenora’s dramatic afternoon performance in the cookbook nook, the rest of the workday felt anti-climactic to Olivia. As closing time approached, The Gingerbread House felt more like a cookie cutter mausoleum than a thriving business. Maddie had slipped out to buy more baking supplies, and Olivia had sent Bertha home early. She began to wonder if her customers dropped by only when they anticipated entertainment . . . and Maddie’s cookies, of course. Would anyone notice if the store closed early? Probably. Knowing Chatterley Heights, an early closing would trigger rumors that business wasn’t going well, or that she and Maddie were losing interest in cookie cutters. Like that would ever happen.
Olivia began rescuing errant cutters that customers had plucked from their displays and then abandoned far from home. She came to the grouping of classic cutters and realized the heart shape was missing. She remembered watching Dolly pick it up, probably because it reminded her of the tiny pierced heart cutter charm she’d made for Alicia. Olivia found the wandering heart on a nearby ledge. She held the cutter in her palm and thought about the necklace Alicia had given her father. If those bones once belonged to Kenny Vayle, then he had died wearing his daughter’s gift. But if he had thrown the necklace into the wall to make it look as if he were dead, then he wasn’t worth his daughter’s adoration.
Who was Kenny Vayle? What had he really been like? It seemed he was either loved or despised. Other than that, Olivia hadn’t learned much about him. Del would be investigating to some extent, of course, but he’d wait for word from the crime lab before committing too much of his time to the case. If there was a case . . . For all Olivia knew, those bones had belonged to an itinerant vagrant. Perhaps someone stuffed him into the wall simply to avoid trouble. Yet that didn’t explain the cookie cutter necklace found with the remains.
Olivia’s cell phone vibrated. She answered with a cheerful, “Hey, Maddie. Still shopping? There’s nothing to do here, so you might as well head home. I’ll be closing the store in about five minutes.”
“So did you hear the news?” Maddie asked.
“Are we talking local or national?” Olivia returned the heart to its display and checked for other orphaned cutters.
“Local, of course. Is there any other? Wait, hang on, I have to pay for the groceries.” A few moments later, Maddie said, “I still love debit cards, even though I get up in the middle of the night to check my bank account.”
“You’re up in the middle of the night,
anyway.” Olivia locked the Gingerbread House door from the inside. “Again I ask, what news?”
“Alicia’s boyfriend, Kurt, got arrested,” Maddie said. “I heard it from one of the clerks at the grocery store. She and I lived next door to each other before my folks died. Anyway, it turns out Kurt is a lot older than Alicia. He’s got a record, mostly for breaking into cars when he was younger. Now he spends his time online. And he definitely has anger issues.”
“What has he been charged with?” Olivia closed the curtains and dimmed the store lights, which was her signal to Spunky that it was time to head up to their apartment. Spunky stretched, hopped down from his chair, and ambled toward the store’s front door.
“One could argue that he was arrested for extreme stupidity,” Maddie said. “The kid took a swing at Pete sometime earlier today. He missed, of course. I can’t believe we didn’t hear about it before now, but I guess Pete wanted to downplay the incident. For a former prizefighter, he is remarkably slow to boil. Ida finally broke down and told Polly, and that was that.”
Olivia paused at the door leading up to her apartment. “So did Pete fire Alicia before her boyfriend tried to hit him? That doesn’t sound like Pete.”
“There is undoubtedly more to the story, and rest assured I will hunt it down,” Maddie said. “I stopped at the diner, but Ida wasn’t there, and I didn’t see Pete, but I will persevere. When I do find out what happened, you will be first on my urgent contact list. Meanwhile, I’m heading to the store to dump these groceries in the kitchen.”
“I’ll be upstairs feeding Spunky,” Olivia said. “Are you and Lucas coming to dinner tonight? Mom said she invited you. We should talk about how to handle Alicia. I’d love to pepper her with all my questions, but she seems fragile.”
“I’ll be there, but Lucas has to work. I doubt we’ll ever get much information from Del, so we’ll have to find a way to wheedle it out of Alicia. Hang on again.” In a few moments, Maddie’s cheerful voice returned. “Sorry, I had to hoist the grocery bag. I got a bit carried away with the shopping. We already have plenty of cookies to bring for dessert tonight, but I also picked up some fancy decorated cupcakes from that new bakery. I’ll have a bit of free time before we need to leave for dinner. Shall I fire up the magic computer fingers for some online research?”
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