Alicia’s head jerked up as if Maddie had startled her. “I’m just about ready. I’ve picked out four . . .” Alicia hesitated, looking at the pierced heart cutter on her palm. She added it to her small pile of chosen cutters, and said, “I chose five cutters to work with, and they are all close to the same size. Could I add one more? My dad would use a little cutter on those small, leftover bits of rolled dough—you know, so you don’t have to keep rolling the dough over and over.”
“Sure,” Maddie said. “We don’t usually do that because our customers seem to go for the bigger cookies. Not that our customers are greedy, I hasten to add. I like to think of them as appreciative.”
Olivia watched as Alicia scooped up her chosen cutters and carried them to the worktable, where she arranged them in a row. She placed the pierced arrow cutter at the end. As Maddie settled in front of her laptop, Alicia picked up a daisy-shaped cookie cutter, dipped the cutting edge in flour, and applied it to the rolled dough. She clearly knew what she was doing. Meanwhile, Maddie visited several auction sites, including eBay. She paused now and then to quiz Alicia about her mother’s cutter collection.
When Olivia joined her at the computer, she quickly realized that Crystal’s cookie cutters would be difficult to locate. They’d been common shapes, such as vintage hearts, flowers, Christmas trees, and stars. There were numerous examples available for sale online. The photos rarely showed exactly where the nicks or dents were located.
Alicia had saved the pierced heart cutter for last. Olivia watched surreptitiously as she picked it up. “This is exactly like the charm I gave my dad,” Alicia said, “only this one is a lot bigger.” She glanced over at Olivia, then at Maddie. “Why did you put this in the box with the others?”
“Oh, it’s just a classic design,” Maddie said.
Alicia’s eyes narrowed to dark slits. “I’m not stupid, you know. I may have been a kid when I bought that charm for Dad, but I remember the girl who sold it to me. She told me she made it herself. That girl was blond and really pretty. She looked a lot like your brother’s girlfriend, Dolly.”
Behind Alicia’s back, Maddie made eye contact with Olivia and silently mouthed, “Oops.”
Alicia spun around to face Maddie. “Is this all a big joke to you two? Are you trying to trick me for some reason?”
Olivia’s emotions bounced between dread and shame. “Alicia, we weren’t trying to . . . I mean . . . once I realized that cutter was in the box, I was hoping the cutter shape would help you talk about your father. Talking about him might make you feel better. We were only trying to help you without hurting your feelings.”
“Why? Because you think I’m so fragile I’ll fall apart if you say the wrong thing? I’m not, you know.” Alicia tossed back her long hair and crossed her arms tightly over her slender ribcage. “It’s been tough living in the same house with my mom and that awful man. My mom doesn’t like me much because I remind her of my dad, and Robbie hates me. He threw me out of my own house like I was some worthless leech, just because my ex-boyfriend got me fired.”
“Kurt is your ex-boyfriend?” Maddie reached into the freezer and dug out a plastic container with half a dozen cookies in it. “I am so glad to hear that news. I think a celebration is in order.” She began to spread the cookies on a plate. “It won’t take long for these to defrost.”
“Of course Kurt is my ex-boyfriend. He’s a jerk.” Alicia grabbed a cookie and took a bite. “I like frozen cookies,” she mumbled.
“Me, too,” Olivia and Maddie said in unison as they each selected a cookie.
“So I was wondering . . .” Maddie slid the plate of cookies closer to Alicia. “How did you and Kurt get together in the first place?”
Alicia captured a lock of her chestnut hair and wrapped it around her finger. “I was a kid, about twelve, when I met Kurt. He was maybe eighteen or nineteen. He seemed really grown-up to me. I guess I had a little crush on him then. Actually, he was a friend of my dad’s, although, looking back, I think Dad might have felt sorry for him. I don’t know . . . I was pretty oblivious at that age.”
“How long did you date him?” Olivia asked.
Alicia shrugged. “Hard to say. We were off and on a lot.” She selected a scalloped cookie with burgundy icing and placed it next to her half-eaten one. “I think Kurt had a falling out with Dad at some point, because suddenly he stopped hanging out with us. Then he showed up again a couple years ago.”
“When Kurt showed up again, did he ask about your father?” Olivia asked.
Alicia nodded. “It was a little weird. When I told him Dad had disappeared, Kurt said it sounded like something he would do—just go off and leave me. I was furious. I told him Dad had gone to see someone about a job, so something bad must have happened. Kurt just nodded and never brought the topic up again. I had the feeling he was relieved that Dad wasn’t there to interfere.”
“Interfere with what?” Maddie asked.
Alicia shrugged one slender shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t want Dad to object to our relationship? Kurt can be possessive. I guess you figured that out from his behavior at Pete’s Diner. I’m sure most everyone in town knows about that by now.”
“Oh, yeah,” Maddie said with a light laugh. “That was poor judgment on Kurt’s part. Pete used to be a prizefighter.”
“I know.” Alicia giggled. “I was secretly hoping Pete would punch Kurt, but he didn’t. Pete is a gentleman.”
“But Pete did fire you,” Maddie pointed out. “I don’t think that was fair.”
“Kurt just wouldn’t go away, so Pete had to do it. I understand that, although I would really like my job back. Pete was interested in adding decorated cookies to the diner menu, and he wanted me to bake them. That would be absolutely the most perfect job for me.” Alicia clasped her hands together as if she were begging Pete to give her another chance.
Olivia felt touched, and found herself saying, “We’ll see what we can do to make that happen. It might take a while, though.”
“Thank you,” Alicia said softly. She picked up her second, uneaten cookie and placed it in the palm of her hand. With her finger, she lightly traced the burgundy scalloped design around the edges. “I love these little guys,” she said. “I love the feel of the dough, the colors, the way the royal icing squeezes out into different shapes and designs . . . I even love cleaning up the mess afterward.” When Alicia giggled, gold flecks brightened her eyes. Olivia thought of Del, who also had gold-flecked brown eyes. Suddenly, even though she’d just spent time with him earlier that day, she missed him, missed talking and joking with him, discussing cases . . . She especially enjoyed digging up information before he could.
“Sounds like you’re a natural-born cutout cookie baker,” Maddie said.
“I think so.” Alicia smiled shyly. “So I was wondering . . . could I maybe work here in The Gingerbread House? I’d work really hard and do anything you want, even if it means cleaning up the kitchen. Please?”
“I, uh . . .” Olivia hadn’t seen this coming, although she probably should have. She glanced at Maddie, who looked as if she, too, had been caught off guard. “Well, that’s something Maddie and I would have to talk about. We already have an experienced clerk, Bertha, who also knows how to cut and decorate cookies. Business can be slow at times, and we don’t really . . .” Olivia’s voice trailed off as Alicia’s shoulders drooped. “We’ll think about it,” Olivia said.
“It’s just that I miss my dad so much, and making cookies makes me feel like he is with me.” Alicia took a bite of her cookie, then another, apparently lost in her memories. By the time she had swallowed the last lemony bite, Alicia nodded, as if she had reached a decision. Dusting the crumbs off her fingers, she said, “I want to know what happened to my dad. Kurt keeps telling me to forget about him, that he was weak, a hopeless drunk. I knew he had a drinking problem. So what? It didn’t make him any
less my father. He was trying to get help to stop drinking, but it’s hard when you don’t have any money.” Alicia paced around the kitchen. “I am so tired of being pushed around by men. First, Kurt, then Robbie, and now Kurt again. My dad was better than both of them put together. He was kind. He didn’t deserve . . .” Alicia’s slender hands tightened into fists. “I must find out what happened to my father. If he was murdered, I want to know who did it, and I want that person to pay. I know you two have solved murders before, and I bet that’s what you’re trying to do now. Let me help you. Please?” She planted her fists on the kitchen table and leaned toward Olivia and Maddie. “Because if you don’t, I’ll hunt down his killer by myself. I swear I will.”
Olivia met Maddie’s eyes, which glittered like emeralds in sunlight. Clearly, Maddie felt no qualms about involving a nineteen-year-old in a potential murder investigation. She probably still perceived the case to be so old it presented minimal danger.
“Let us think about it.” Olivia realized she was the only one aware of how quickly a cold case could spark into flame. However, one glance at Alicia’s tight, determined face, and Olivia knew she had a fight on her hands. There was no way she could justify allowing Alicia to tag along with Maddie and her as they dug deeper into Kenny Vayle’s disappearance and presumed death. But if she excluded Alicia, she might trigger an even more dangerous outcome—Alicia might make good on her threat to investigate on her own.
Chapter Twelve
Olivia returned Alicia safely to Ellie and Allan’s house by eleven p.m., as she had promised her mother. Their after-dinner baking session had failed to provide much helpful information about Kenny Vayle, but Olivia had to admit they’d gotten to know Alicia far better. That girl was feisty and determined, no doubt about it. Her deeper awareness had left Olivia feeling uneasy. If Alicia tried to investigate on her own, she might put herself in real danger.
It was eleven fifteen p.m. by the time Olivia returned to the Gingerbread House kitchen, where she found Maddie staring at the laptop screen, her hands poised over the keyboard.
“Please tell me you’ve cracked the case,” Olivia said as she hung her jacket on a wall hook near the door. “I’ll feel better when we’ve made some progress. At least, I hope I will.”
“I’ll need at least five more minutes,” Maddie said, “and sustenance.”
Olivia went straight to the refrigerator, where she had left defrosted cookies in a covered cake pan. She brought the pan over to the table. Police work required doughnuts, Olivia reasoned, so she and Maddie deserved cookies, right?
“Sustenance coming right up,” Olivia said, “with caffeine close behind.” She poured water into Mr. Coffee’s reservoir and lowered the lid. “I can’t wait a whole five minutes. Have you found out anything at all?” Olivia measured coffee grounds into the basket and punched Mr. Coffee’s on button.
“Ah yes,” Maddie said. “I believe I have indeed found an interesting tidbit. Remember that strange blog I showed you? The one showing a photo of a younger Alicia and her bleary-eyed father?”
“And Kenny seemed to be wearing a necklace . . . yes, I remember.” Olivia deposited coffee cups, a carton of cream, and the sugar bowl near the spitting coffeemaker.
“Well, genius that I am, I have identified the blogger as Kurt, and I’ve found out his last name. Are you ready for this? It’s Kurtzel.”
“Kurt Kurtzel? Are you kidding me? That’s just plain evil. No wonder he has anger issues. Is Kurt really one of those guys who lives in a basement and blogs day and night? How did you find out about him?”
“Good questions.” Maddie stood up and stretched. “I will tell all, but first, coffee and a cookie.” She poured steaming Italian roast into her cup, leaving plenty of room for cream and sugar. Bearing coffee plus a rose-shaped cookie decorated with baby blue icing and sapphire pearlized sprinkles, Maddie returned to her computer. “I have to admit that finding Kurt wasn’t hard. He maintains an enthusiastic online presence, including on Twitter, where his contributions are snarky, though not in a clever, interesting way. He criticizes famous people, rich people, poor people . . . well, pretty much everyone. Kurt’s tweets would be totally boring except that sometimes he seems to have personal information about people he is unlikely to have met, as well as people he knows. He never comes out and reveals a secret, but his hints contain just enough substance to make him sound knowledgeable.”
“Allen might be right that Kurt is doing some hacking.” Olivia carted her coffee and cookie over to the table and sat down. As usual, Maddie’s fingers tapped the keyboard with a speed and accuracy that Olivia couldn’t imagine possessing. “I’ll admit that I’m not an expert on the ways of Twitter,” Olivia said. “Mom keeps pressuring me to join Facebook, but I’m just too tired at night to hang out on social networks.”
“Luckily, you have me,” Maddie said. “I could happily tap keys all night, which is a good thing because otherwise this store would have no online presence.” Maddie lifted her fingers from the computer keys and glanced at the cookie Olivia was about to taste. “There’s something disturbing about a moss green rose with lavender sprinkles,” Maddie said. “Not one of my better color combinations. Thank you for eating it.”
“I thought you’d want me to make the evidence disappear.” Olivia sampled a small bite. “Yum. It tastes much more palatable than it looks.”
“Of course it does. When it comes to flavoring, I never err.” A red curl bounced against Maddie’s forehead as she nodded toward the computer screen. “Kurt Kurtzel does seem to harbor resentments against a significant number of people. Online, Kurt comes across as hypercritical, sometimes in a whiny way. Maybe that’s really why Pete threw him out of the diner.”
“Pete never could stand a whiner,” Olivia said. “He’s even harder on men who behave disrespectfully to women, which is how Kurt was behaving toward Alicia. The more I think about it, firing Alicia because of her ex-boyfriend’s behavior seems out of character for Pete. I wonder if he knows more about Kurt than we’ve uncovered so far.”
“Not unless he keeps a techie gnome in the kitchen.” Maddie reached both arms toward the ceiling to loosen her shoulders. “Given Pete’s background as a prizefighter, he might sense when someone is wound up too tight.”
“Do you think Kurt might be making up the information he tweets?” Olivia asked.
Maddie leaned back in her chair and stretched out her legs. “I’ll grant you, social networks seem to invite carelessness when it comes to the truth, but you can still get into hot water if you outright lie about someone and they know who you are.” She scrolled down the screen to another of Kurt’s posts. “I suspect that’s why Kurt sticks to innuendo, for the most part, but . . .”
“But what?”
Maddie’s freckled forehead puckered as she stared at the screen. “Listen to this one,” she said. “Dirty work at the diner? Don’t eat the meatloaf!”
“Whoa, that’s personal. Was that posted today?”
Maddie nodded. “Looks like it was posted soon after Pete chased Kurt out of the diner. So Kurt must have left for a while and then returned later.” She closed the lid of her computer. “My laptop is running out of juice. I’d better plug it in.” Her gaze swept the kitchen. “Oops, forgot my charger.”
Olivia rolled her shoulders and heard a cracking sound. Maybe it was time to join her mom’s yoga classes . . . or restock some shelves, which sounded much more stimulating. “I can’t remember hearing Pete say even one word about social networks, can you? I have a hard time picturing him glued to a screen, engrossed in Twitter. He never bothers to advertise the diner. It does just fine through word of mouth.”
“A customer might warn him about a nasty post,” Maddie said. “Pete has loyal fans, and many of them are young and tech savvy. Kurt might not have thought of that. Maybe he indulged in a bit of passive-aggressive revenge, figuring he could hurt the diner’s reputati
on without Pete finding out.”
“In Chatterley Heights?” Olivia drained her cup in one cold gulp. “If that’s true, it’s hard to believe that Kurt actually grew up around here. Anyone in town who reads this post—and understands what it means—would tell Pete at once.”
“And Kurt would be dead meat,” Maddie said, “figuratively speaking, of course. Pete is careful to avoid physical confrontation, but he finds other ways to protect his reputation. I’ve heard him slice someone into bits with a few well-chosen words. If Kurt shows up at the diner again, I’d love to be a termite in the wall. Or am I thinking of the wrong insect?”
“I like your version, although you might avoid mentioning termites in the wall and Pete’s Diner in the same sentence.”
“At least I’m not mangling French.” Maddie opened her laptop and began to close down programs. “I think I’ll head home,” she said.
“Really?” Olivia checked the wall clock over the sink. “It isn’t even midnight yet. Are you feeling all right? This is so not like you. Ooh, are you—?”
“No, I’m not pregnant,” Maddie said. “Believe me, you would be the first I’d tell. Okay, you’d be the second, after Aunt Sadie. No wait, third. I’d tell Lucas first. Anyway, I’m heading home because my laptop needs charging, and I want to do more research.”
“You get to have all the fun.” Olivia rinsed out her coffee cup and put it in the dishwasher. “All right, I guess I’ll collect my snoozing pup and cart him upstairs.”
“Good idea. I’ll be back here in about three hours to get some baking done, but you get a good night’s sleep. You’re older than I . . . Uh-oh.” Maddie frowned at her laptop screen.
Olivia froze, leaving the kitchen door open a crack. “What’s wrong? Did your computer die?”
“Nope,” Maddie said. “But I almost wish it had. Sleep will have to wait a bit. An email arrived as I was about to shut down my email program. It’s . . . disturbing.”
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