“I agree completely,” Ellie said, looping her arm around her husband’s elbow. “Besides, your online businesses are humming along nicely, and you worked until nearly midnight last night. You need a break.”
Lenora’s ability to show emotion had been lost to surgery, but her wary eyes were asking, What just happened here? Olivia had the same question. Her mother could get anyone to do anything, but normally she used her powers for a clear and just purpose. Ellie might simply be trying to rescue Mr. Willard from Lenora’s clutches and keep Bertha from losing her love. However, Mr. Willard, befuddled as he might seem at times, was shrewd, insightful, and completely devoted to Bertha. Ellie knew this better than anyone.
It struck Olivia that her mother might have the same questions that had crossed her own mind. Were these younger men truly taking a few days out of their busy professional lives simply to spend quality time with Lenora Tucker? Nothing against Lenora, but it seemed unlikely. Were they out-of-work moochers? Did they assume Lenora had inherited a fortune from her producer husband? Did Ellie suspect the two men might try to take advantage of Lenora, not to mention her nephew and his wife? Well, if the Tucker family needed protection, Olivia could think of no one more capable of providing it than her mother.
Chapter Six
The Gingerbread House had been open for over an hour by the time Olivia returned from her breakfast meeting. Several customers were browsing while two women waited for assistance at the cash register. Bertha, alone on the sales floor, was busy helping a harried mother decide between two cookie cutter themes: baseball or zombies. Olivia went directly to the sales counter and got to work. Spunky would have to stay in her apartment for a while. She’d make it up to him. Meanwhile, thank goodness for puppy pads.
From the sweet, buttery smell of freshly baked cookies drifting through the leaky old kitchen door, Olivia knew that Maddie was hard at work. It wasn’t like Maddie to ignore the sales floor, especially when the store was short staffed. Even on ordinary days, though, she could so easily slip into her own world filled with music, dancing, and decorated cookies. And this was no ordinary Wednesday. In three days, the town of Chatterley Heights would celebrate Maddie and Lucas’s engagement, and one week later, they would marry in a tiny, private ceremony. Olivia and Del had agreed to be their witnesses, and Maddie’s aunt Sadie would be the only other guest. Maddie, who reveled in crowds and loved to dance, was nervous. She joyfully anticipated a huge turnout for her engagement party, but for her nuptials she wanted quiet.
When the customers had dwindled to two women looking through cookbooks, Olivia beckoned Bertha over to the cash register, and asked, “Did Jennifer ever call to say why she didn’t show up this morning?”
“I found a message from her on the machine.” Bertha’s round face puckered with concern. “I know she hasn’t been working here for long, but I can’t help but think something is terribly wrong…. I mean, for Jennifer to simply leave a message with no details. She’s such a conscientious young woman, so good with the customers.”
The last two browsing customers headed toward the front door, so Olivia asked, “Are you comfortable working the sales floor on your own for a few minutes while I check with Maddie in the kitchen? She might have heard from Jennifer by now. If not, I’ll ask her to call around and see if she can find temporary help on such short notice.”
“Oh, I’ll be just fine. Don’t fret now,” Bertha said with a maternal pat on Olivia’s arm. “If a busload of customers suddenly bursts through that door, I’ll poke my head in the kitchen and ask for help.”
Olivia opened the kitchen door to hear Maddie singing “Can’t Take My Eyes off of You” along with her earbuds. In time to the music, she squirted tiny electric purple flowers on a cookie shaped like a wedding dress. Olivia waited for Maddie to finish before waving to get her attention.
“Hey.” Maddie pulled out her earbuds. “How was your meeting? And more important, how did your baking session with your mom go yesterday?”
“Fine, and none of your business,” Olivia said. “Any word from Jennifer? Is she ill? If she isn’t coming in at all today, we’ll need some backup.”
“About backup, remember that soul-numbing institution called school? The one that doesn’t release its prisoners until June?” Maddie selected a pastry bag and squeezed a minuscule dab of forest green icing to create a leaf. “School is where most of our temps are for the next month or so. The rest of them graduated, got desperate for full-time work, and moved to DC or Baltimore. I found one who could come in next week, but right now she’s filling in for a waitress at the café. And to answer your first question second…nope, no word from Jennifer. All she said in her message was she had to deal with a family emergency.”
“Hard to argue with a reason like that,” Olivia said.
“Except…” Maddie capped her pastry bag and sank into a chair. “Maybe I misunderstood, but I thought she said during her interview that she didn’t have any family in this area.”
Olivia opened the kitchen door wide enough to peek into the store. Bertha was discussing sanding sugar with a middle-aged woman, while two more customers chatted near the mixers. “Under control for the moment.” Olivia pulled up a chair across the worktable from Maddie. “Any idea where Jennifer is staying?”
“She’s renting a room from Gwen’s aunt Agnes,” Maddie said.
“That makes me think she doesn’t have family in or near Chatterley Heights,” Olivia said. “Maybe that’s what she meant. If her ‘family emergency’ is in another town or state, we have no clue how far away she is or when she might return. Did you try calling her cell? Or Aunt Agnes?”
“I did,” Maddie said. “Her cell goes directly to voice mail, and Aunt Agnes didn’t even know she was gone. She checked Jennifer’s room, and her belongings are still there. She has paid up through May. I’m out of ideas. I promise I’ll never again hire someone without your prior written and notarized approval. Jennifer seemed so perfect. And I’m normally such an extraordinary judge of character.”
The kitchen door opened, and Bertha’s plump, friendly face appeared. “You’ll never guess who just showed up. Jennifer.” From anyone else, those words might have been sarcastic, but Bertha sounded her usual cheerful self.
“Did she offer any details about her family emergency?” Olivia asked.
Bertha slipped through the door and closed it behind her. “Not a word, but then, maybe it was too personal. She hunkered right down and got to work helping a couple of women looking for cookbooks. You know, I do worry that she is trying to hide how upset she is. If there was a death in her family…” Bertha’s eyes glistened, and Olivia wondered if she might be remembering the cruel murder of her beloved employer, Clarisse Chamberlain. With an emphatic shake of her head, Bertha said, “It isn’t healthy to push your feelings down too far, it just isn’t. Maybe I should talk to—”
“Why don’t I talk to Jennifer and see how she’s doing,” Olivia said. “I haven’t had a chance to get to know her.” She knew Bertha wouldn’t push too hard for information. Olivia, however, wanted very much to learn why Jennifer was suddenly disappearing from work.
Olivia returned to the sales floor as Jennifer unlocked the cabinet containing The Gingerbread House’s stock of valuable vintage and antique cookie cutters. A well-dressed woman, her face lit with excitement, watched Jennifer select one of the store’s most valuable and expensive cutters, a duck shape with a flat back. Jennifer held the cutter in the palm of her hand and discussed its attributes. Olivia moved closer to listen. Jennifer and her customer seemed absorbed in their exchange and unaware of Olivia’s presence.
“We think this dates back to the early twentieth century, possibly even the late nineteenth century,” Jennifer said. “It was handmade by a tinsmith and has been lovingly used by several generations of bakers. As you can see, it has an air hole cut into the back to allow air to escape. It’s large enough to put your finger through if you need to push the cookie dough out of the cut
ter.”
Jennifer placed the cutter in the customer’s hand. The woman ran her finger over the metal, and said, “It’s in such good shape. Although clearly it has seen use. There’s the sweetest little dent right there on the duck’s bill. I can just imagine a child playing with it like a toy while his mother baked cookies for him.” She stared into space as if envisioning the scene. “Or maybe she was his grandmother. Grandmothers are generally more tolerant. His mother would probably have told him to stop playing with the cookie cutter before he damaged it.”
Olivia smiled at the customer’s comment. Vintage cookie cutters had that effect on people. Her smile faded when the store’s front door opened and in walked Chatterley Heights’s least favorite postal carrier, Sam Parnell. Though it was still spring, Sam had already switched to his United States Postal Service summer uniform, complete with hat. Olivia tried to quell her more judgmental reactions, especially when it came to looks, but she had to admit the outfit wasn’t flattering to Sam. It included shorts, which revealed Sam’s spindly legs. If he were a kinder person, Olivia thought, she probably wouldn’t notice.
Jennifer and her customer were too engrossed in vintage cookie cutters to notice Sam’s entrance. He held a white box with a red stripe and blue print. Sam always personally delivered Priority Mail, hoping to get a sneak peek at the contents, and he headed straight toward Olivia. She wished she’d been quick enough to slip back into the kitchen.
“Is that package for us?” Olivia asked.
“So that’s the new girl.” Sam cocked his head in Jennifer’s direction. “First time I’ve seen her. I deliver mail all over Chatterley Heights, and I’d remember a pretty girl like that. Looks kind of standoffish, though. That type usually is.”
Olivia caught herself before she launched into an automatic defense of Jennifer’s personality. Sam elicited gossip with well-honed skill, then delivered it to Chatterley Heights citizens as if it were First-Class Mail. It was part of his daily routine. If he didn’t have any new gossip to dispense, he would invent some. Olivia found it best to show as little interest as possible.
“I hope this is the shipment of cutters I’ve been waiting for.” Olivia slipped the package from Sam’s hand while he studied his newest quarry. Sam stared at his empty hand, then at Olivia. She tried not to squirm as his watery blue eyes narrowed to slits. She reminded herself that Sam could be irritating, but he was usually harmless…unless he felt humiliated.
“Sorry to hear about you and Del.” Sam’s sneery smile exposed his crooked front teeth. “But I guess it’s easy to understand, now that I see how young and pretty your new clerk is.”
Old news, Olivia thought with relief. “Now, Sam, everyone knows that was one of Binnie’s little attempts to invent news.”
“Huh. That’s not the way I heard it.” Sam’s expression reminded Olivia of a vulture. “Of course, it all depends on how much you trust your own friends. Someone sure is feeding Binnie some juicy insider information about you and the sheriff.” When Olivia didn’t respond, Sam added, “Maybe you and Stacey Harald had a fight? She’s been mighty touchy lately, what with that husband of hers going off the wagon. And then she got laid off from her job.”
Olivia so dearly wanted to grab Sam by his scrawny neck and stuff a very sharp cookie cutter down his throat; on the other hand, that might damage a perfectly good cookie cutter. “You’re not making sense, Sam, and I have work to do.” Turning her back on him, Olivia said, “Thanks for bringing the package so quickly.” She tried not to look back as she closed the kitchen door, but she couldn’t keep herself from glancing at Sam’s profile as he watched Jennifer discuss vintage cookie cutters with her enthusiastic customer. Sam was smiling, and it wasn’t in a friendly way.
* * *
Olivia sorted through her new shipment of cookie cutters, adding each to the store’s inventory list, but her mind was on Stacey Harald, a good friend since childhood. Stacey hadn’t mentioned anything about losing her job, which she sorely needed. Her ex-husband Wade’s now-and-then child-support payments weren’t nearly enough to round out Stacey’s income from her position as office manager at the Chatterley Heights Elementary School. The couple’s two teenage children lived with Stacey. If Wade was drinking again and had lost his job at the Struts & Bolts garage, Stacey and the kids would be in serious trouble.
“Livie? Are you with us, or have you left for your own little happy place?”
Olivia, startled by Maddie’s voice, turned too quickly and whacked her hand against the arm of her wooden chair. “Ouch!”
“Oh dear,” Bertha said. “I know how to stop that from bruising very much. My great aunt taught me. She knew such wonderful home remedies.” Bertha dug to the back of the freezer for a tray of ice. She emptied the cubes into a dishtowel, which she folded into a makeshift ice pack. “Hold this on your hand as long as you can stand it,” she said as she handed the lumpy concoction to Olivia.
“Will that really work?” Maddie asked.
“It will, if you use it right away,” Bertha said.
“If I remember to use it at all.” Olivia fumbled with the loose pack, which wanted to come apart.
“Or you could stop walking into solid objects,” Maddie suggested.
“Yeah, that’ll happen.” Olivia examined the array of cookies covering the table. “You’ve made great progress on the extra cookies for Saturday. They look great.”
“Of course they do,” Maddie said. “Bertha helped with the decorating while you were handling the Jennifer situation. How did that go, by the way?” The oven timer dinged. Maddie opened the oven and switched a batch of baked wedding dresses for unbaked ones.
“Unfortunately, the Jennifer situation became the Snoopy standoff, so I never managed to speak with her. She’s still up-selling vintage cutters to a fascinated customer, or she was when I escaped from Sam. By the way, he insinuated it was Stacey Harald who started the rumor that Del dumped me for Jennifer.”
Maddie snorted in derision. “Stacey? Not a chance. And for Jennifer? Oh, please, that’s the silliest part of the rumor. I mean, Jennifer is certainly pretty in a serious, intense sort of way, but she seems so…”
“Serious?” Olivia lifted the ice off her hand to give it a rest.
“Exactly,” Maddie said. “And intense. Del is sheriff; he has enough intensely serious stuff in his life.”
“So I’m light and fluffy?”
“Don’t be silly, Livie. I’m light and fluffy. You are…well, I guess you verge on serious, at times anyway. However, you are never intense, or hardly ever. The point is, you’re a lot more fun than Jennifer, unless there’s a side to her I haven’t seen. For instance, I can’t imagine Jennifer hiding with me in a root cellar while a deranged killer runs amok right above our heads.”
“I must admit, that was fun, in a terrifying sort of way.” Olivia dumped her melting ice cubes into the sink and wrung out the sopping towel. She examined her hand and was impressed. There were only light signs of bruising.
“Oh, you two,” Bertha said. “I should head back to the sales floor to help Jennifer, unless you need me here.”
“I’ll join you later,” Olivia said. “Leave Jennifer to me. I intend to find out about this mysterious family crisis of hers.”
When the kitchen door closed behind Bertha, Olivia selected a nearly empty pastry bag and used the last bits of lilac royal icing to accent a pale pink wedding gown cookie. “Maddie, have you heard a rumor that Stacey Harald got laid off from her administration job at the elementary school?”
Maddie’s deep green eyes widened. “Not a word. Is it true? School funding must be really low. Stacey is the principal’s right-hand woman.”
“The rumor came from Sam Parnell, so the odds are it isn’t true.” Olivia mixed a couple drops of teal gel food coloring into a small batch of royal icing. Teal was her favorite color, and she was getting tired of purple in all its various hues. “On the other hand, I did see Stacey and Wade arguing in the park this morning.
She doesn’t normally waste energy like that.”
“You don’t think they’re back together, do you?” Fluffy tendrils of red hair escaped from Maddie’s purple bandana and softened the outline of her face. Although she was in her early thirties, at that moment she looked barely old enough to date, let alone marry. “Because if those two reunited,” Maddie said, “that would be tragic. I’d have to intervene.”
“I’d pay to see that.” Olivia checked the kitchen clock. “It’s going on noon, and Spunky hasn’t been out today. I didn’t even bring him down to the store this morning. Could you cover the lunch hour with Bertha and Jennifer? I need to take Spunky on a run. Maybe I can call Stacey at the same time. I’m worried.”
* * *
When Olivia opened the door of her apartment, Spunky leaped into her arms. The force of his little body nearly knocked her backward. She used a foot to close the door behind her before he realized he could escape down the stairs.
“I’m glad to see you, too, Spunks.” Olivia held him under one arm and rubbed his silky ears as she headed down the hallway toward the kitchen. When they reached the bathroom, Olivia poked her head inside. “I see you used your puppy pad,” she said. “Good boy. That deserves a treat.” Spunky wriggled out of her grasp, ran into the kitchen, and skidded on the tile. He came to a stop in front of the magical cabinet door that made dog treats appear and disappear. Standing on his hind legs, Spunky clawed at the plastic container as Olivia drew out two of the recently purchased bone-shaped doggie treats that always reminded her of cutout cookies. She broke the bones in two and slid them across the kitchen floor. While Spunky chased the pieces and devoured them one by one, Olivia gathered his leash and a couple plastic bags.
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