Spunky wriggled as Olivia made sure the front door was latched. When she released him, he raced toward the kitchen. Olivia arrived to find him stationed next to his empty food bowl. He tilted his little head and whimpered. The long silky hair on his head fell to one side, revealing sad, starving eyes.
“Oh, you’re good,” Olivia said. “I know this is how you survived on the streets of Baltimore, but remember, I’m on to you. I gave you a big bowl of food this morning plus extra treats.”
Spunky whimpered again with increased pathos. He sank to the floor as if he were too weak to sit upright any longer. Against her will, Olivia felt herself melt. After all, the little guy had missed his daily run, and he’d stayed alone in the apartment all day instead of enjoying his usual time in the store, lapping up attention.
Olivia caved in and opened Spunky’s bag of dry food. “I realize this is a precedent-setting mistake,” she said, “for which I will pay and pay.” She poured a small pile of kibbles into Spunky’s bowl, the sight of which gave him the strength to leap to his paws. “I will live to regret this, won’t I?” Olivia murmured. Spunky ignored her.
While Spunky licked his bowl clean, Olivia changed into her jeans and running shoes. When she returned to the kitchen and lifted his leash from its hook on the kitchen wall, Spunky held still barely long enough for her to attach the leash to his collar. Olivia sprinted behind as Spunky pulled her downstairs with an urgency she understood and took seriously. They made it outdoors just in time.
“I’m so glad you aren’t a puppy anymore,” Olivia said.
Dusk had given way to darkness, deepened by the cloud-filled sky. Around the town square, only a few shops, the Chatterley Café and Pete’s Diner, remained open. The old-fashioned street lamps lining the sidewalks revealed a handful of folks heading home from work or out to dinner. The park looked dark and empty, the way Spunky liked it. No screaming children or rowdy teenagers who might step on him or pull his tail. Spunky yanked on his leash to inform Olivia that he thought a run in the park sounded like a good idea. Olivia wasn’t so sure. The only light deep within the park came from one streetlamp that lent a golden glow to the old band shell. Only the rounded exterior showed in outline against the dark sky, reminding Olivia of a seashell-shaped cookie cutter.
Spunky had set his heart on a run in the park. He made his desire clear by pulling so hard on the leash that his front paws lifted off the ground. Olivia had bought the determined five-pound creature a harness leash to keep him from strangling himself; unfortunately, it also enabled him to yap at full volume.
“Oh, all right,” Olivia said. “We’ll brave the park. Only I’m counting on you to protect me.” She trotted behind Spunky into the darkness. Her eyes adjusted quickly, and she found she could make out the benches scattered around the park, as well as the statue of Frederick P. Chatterley and his horse, toward which Spunky ran with terrier determination. He had a fondness for the horse’s legs, which seemed to remind him of fire hydrants.
Before they’d reached the founder’s statue, Spunky halted so suddenly that Olivia nearly tripped over him. His sensitive Yorkie ears perked as he stared toward the dark interior of the band shell. Her heart pounding as if she were still running, Olivia scooped him up and carried him to the deeper shadows, out of sight. She put him on the grass and tugged on his leash, but he wouldn’t budge. She told herself it was nothing. Spunky wasn’t yapping or growling, just listening. Olivia suspected he heard a courting couple inside the band shell. Or a squirrel, scrounging for crumbs.
She tugged again at the leash. “Come on, Spunks, remember how fond you are of Frederick P. and his trusty steed? Also, Maddie and I have work to do, so if we could move it along…” Spunky gave Olivia a momentary glance but quickly refocused on the band shell. Then she heard it, too: a voice, male, angry, and harsh. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. She edged closer. A faint murmur answered, followed by another outraged response. Olivia caught the word “lied.” She thought back to the one-sided conversation she’d overheard in the garden behind Bon Vivant. But no, this voice sounded lower, a bit slurred, and definitely male.
Spunky growled. Olivia knew from experience that a volley of yaps would quickly follow. She grabbed her fierce protector, who had no idea how tiny he was, and headed past the band shell at a casual pace. Spunky refused to be thwarted. He growled and barked and tried to squirm his way out of Olivia’s tight hold.
“Don’t you dare,” Olivia hissed as she found herself clutching Spunky’s hind legs. He had managed to wriggle up to peek over her shoulder. Hanging on to one of his legs, Olivia reached up and grabbed a handful of the hair on his back, which hadn’t been trimmed in some time. She might never trim it again. Spunky whimpered, but Olivia didn’t loosen her grip. She turned toward the band shell, forcing Spunky to look in the opposite direction, toward the statue. As she did so, she saw the figure of a man standing next to the band shell, staring in her direction. She couldn’t see his face. From his silhouette, Olivia guessed he was on the small side, thin but broad shouldered. He didn’t gesture or call to her. He simply stared as if he might be trying to identify her. It wouldn’t be hard. Everyone in town knew Spunky.
In an instant, the figure turned and walked away, weaving slightly as he melted into the darkness. There was something about the way he moved, bowlegged and belligerent…Olivia flashed to her breakfast meeting at Pete’s Diner. Olivia had watched her friend Stacey Harald argue with her ex-husband Wade. Normally a gentle person who loved his children, Wade became combative when he drank, and he’d probably been drinking already that morning. When he’d stalked away from Stacey, his gait had been wobbly and angry. Wade was slight yet muscular, and he was bowlegged. Olivia promised herself a talk with Stacey as soon as possible.
“Olivia? Is that you?”
Olivia’s heart skittered up her throat. Spunky spewed a torrent of outraged yaps and renewed his struggle to free himself. Olivia held him so tightly he yelped.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” A tall man stepped out of the band shell and into the light.
“Mr. Lane, I didn’t expect…” Olivia loosened her stranglehold on Spunky but held firmly to his leash.
“Even total strangers call me Trevor.” As he tilted his head, a lock of hair fell across his forehead.
Olivia envisioned female fans longing to brush the hair away from his eyes. This was not her own reaction, which Spunky expressed perfectly by snarling at Trevor. “Everyone calls me Livie,” she said.
Two more men emerged from the band shell. The first, Olivia recognized as Dougie Adair. “Livie, we truly are sorry if our sudden appearance scared you,” Dougie said. “My fault, really. I heard frantic barking and thought someone might be in danger. I guess it comes from having lived in big cities most of my adult life. We were just enjoying your lovely band shell. If I called Chatterley Heights home, I’d come here every evening to think and write.”
Olivia began to understand how Dougie managed to keep Trevor out of trouble, if that was, in fact, his role. She had to wonder why Trevor had escaped from Dougie’s protection earlier in the day. What had been so important that he had to risk a ticket, not to mention an accident?
The third man looked very familiar to Olivia, but she couldn’t place him. He was a couple inches shorter than Dougie. From his wiry build, she guessed he might be a runner, yet his pasty complexion placed him indoors for long periods. With a slight nod to Olivia, the man said, “I’m Howard Upton.”
“Come off it, Howie,” Trevor said. “You simply aren’t a Howard, not even in a suit.”
In the muted lamp light, Olivia could see Howie’s cheeks redden. “Howie is fine with me,” he mumbled.
Where have I seen him before? “Do you live in Chatterley Heights?” Olivia asked Howard.
“Howie still lives with his mother in Twiterton,” Trevor said, emphasizing the word “mother.” “We three went to Twiterton High together, graduated the same year. Although D
ougie and I were friends all through high school, played football and basketball, dated a lot, so we rarely crossed paths with Howie. Poor little Howie was the class genius.”
“You make it sound like a fate worse than death,” Dougie said with a light laugh. “Howie really was a child genius. He skipped two grades and graduated from high school at sixteen, right, Howie?”
Howie’s tight expression relaxed. “I was younger than the other boys, and maybe a bit chubbier as I prepared for a growth spurt, so naturally I was at a disadvantage in sports. And high school girls aren’t interested in dating boys who are much younger. After high school my age became less of a hindrance, and I made up for my earlier dating deficit. I went into finance; that gave me a distinct advantage with women.”
Olivia heard a tinge of defensive arrogance in Howie’s voice, but she imagined being a child genius wasn’t easy. And then she remembered where she’d seen him before: behind the teller window in the Chatterley Heights National Bank. He must be in his thirties. By “going into finance,” did Howie mean working as a bank teller? Management trainees were often required to work as tellers before graduating to managers, but even so, she would expect a “child genius” to have progressed further by now.
“Come inside and chat with us awhile, won’t you?” Trevor asked with his fetching smile.
Spunky growled at the invitation, and Olivia thought about all the cookies she had to create before Saturday. On the other hand, her curiosity had shifted into overdrive, and besides, Maddie wanted to help with the baking and decorating marathon. Come to think of it, Maddie would be deeply disappointed if Olivia failed to learn as much as possible about these mysterious strangers.
“Maddie is expecting me in the store soon,” Olivia said, “but I’d love to chat a bit.” She followed Trevor up the broad steps leading into the band shell. Dougie and Howie followed behind. A stone bench circled the inside perimeter. Olivia chose a spot near the front entrance, lit by the streetlamp, and nestled Spunky on her lap. The location gave her a quick way out. Not that she was nervous. Just cautious. Spunky allowed Dougie to sit on Olivia’s right without incident. However, when Trevor tried to sit on Olivia’s left, her canine guardian growled at him. With quick grace, Trevor moved next to Dougie. Olivia caught the satisfied expression that flickered across Dougie’s face. Howie followed Trevor but put some distance between himself and the two other men.
For Olivia, the band shell had always offered a sense of peace. It was well over one hundred years old, but the town had kept it fairly well maintained. The rounded structure, with its curved entrance and open floor plan, hosted band concerts, dances, and a variety of other town events. For musical performances, the town provided folding chairs and music stands. During a flush period in Chatterley Heights’s history, the town leaders had sprung for lighting, which they now used sparingly. As a young girl, Olivia had spent many summer hours in the cool interior of the band shell, happily reading historical novels and imagining music and dancing from eras long before her birth.
Now the band shell felt abandoned, despite their presence. As always after a long winter, the floor could do with a good scrubbing, and the decorative paintings on the walls needed touching up. From what she could see of the stone bench they were sitting on, she was glad she’d changed into jeans.
Spunky fussed in Olivia’s firm grip, though he wasn’t growling or yapping. He was impatient to be home, and so was she. No time to beat around the bush. “Wasn’t that Wade Harald I just saw leaving the band shell? Do you know him, too? What brought all of you together this evening?” Olivia’s bright tone was, she hoped, a decent imitation of Maddie’s at her most innocently blunt. She noticed the quick glance between Trevor and Dougie. Howie crossed his arms over his narrow chest.
“Pure accident.” Dougie’s tone was smooth, unconcerned. “We don’t really know Wade well, but Trevor and I were exploring this lovely park, and we ran into Howie. We haven’t seen each other since…How long has it been, Howie?” Dougie and Trevor turned their heads toward Howie and away from Olivia. Howie squirmed as if he felt uncomfortable. “High school.”
“Graduation day, to be precise. Howie was valedictorian, naturally.” A faint undertone in Trevor’s voice made Olivia wonder if these three former classmates shared a more complex history than they were willing to discuss with a stranger. Trevor’s cell phone rang to a syrupy tune that Olivia had heard but couldn’t identify. Trevor checked the caller ID and sighed. “It’s dear old Lenora.”
When Trevor failed to answer by the second ring, Dougie said, “Lenora is our hostess.” The quiet authority in his voice was unmistakable.
“Oh, I suppose….” Trevor flipped open his cell. “Lenora, dearest. So sorry to have abandoned you. Pressing business, you know how it is.” Trevor stared out into the dark park as he listened to her response. “What an intriguing idea, my dear. I was hoping for a rest, but I wouldn’t dream of disappointing my fans. And you know how I love animals. Have you spoken with Maddie about it?” After a pause as Lenora responded, Trevor asked, “Well, have you at least run the idea past your nephew? No? Don’t you think the restaurant might have a few objections?” Trevor glanced toward Dougie and rolled his eyes. “All right, Lenora, why don’t you talk it over with everyone involved, then let me know.” Apparently, Lenora agreed. “Kiss kiss to you, too,” Trevor said and snapped his phone shut.
“What now?” Dougie asked.
Trevor groaned. “Lenora had one of her brainstorms. She has decided there should be entertainment at Maddie’s party, and she and I should be the featured stars. Her nephew, whose name I’ve forgotten, used to write little plays in high school, so Lenora wants him to create some skits or something. And she thinks cookies should be involved in the performance, since that’s the party theme.”
“Really,” Olivia said. “And here I thought the party was to celebrate Maddie and Lucas’s engagement.” Her cell burst once again into “Chapel of Love,” inducing snickers from the three men. The noise roused Spunky, who had been snoring gently in Olivia’s lap. He dropped off again as soon as Olivia opened her cell and silenced the Dixie Cups. Olivia heard Maddie’s voice before the phone reached her ear.
“Livie, were you planning to make an appearance anytime soon?” Maddie did not sound like her irrepressibly cheerful self.
“Sorry, Maddie, I didn’t mean to stick you with all the baking. I’ve been in the band shell chatting with Trevor, Dougie, and Howie from the bank, but I’m heading right back to the store.”
“No, don’t move,” Maddie said. “I’ll be there in two minutes. I need to get out of this kitchen before Lenora calls with more about her brilliant idea for my engagement party. Tell the guys I’m bringing cookies so they won’t leave.”
“Understood,” Olivia said, but Maddie had already hung up. “I’m afraid I’m under orders to hold you three captive for a while,” Olivia said to the men. “Maddie is rushing over with cookies.”
Howie checked his watch. “I need to get going soon. I start work early in the morning.”
“Well, I wouldn’t pass up Maddie’s cookies even if I were offered the role of Rhett Butler in a remake of Gone with the Wind,” Trevor said. “Besides, I missed dinner.”
“I’ll bet you did.” Howie snorted too loudly. “I heard about your antics this afternoon. Sheriff Jenkins caught you speeding and texting. I wonder who you were so desperate to have a conversation with…another married woman? I guess Dougie needs to keep you on a tighter leash.”
With a soft chuckle, Trevor said, “Ah, the simple pleasures of small-town life, I remember them well. The rumor mill churns incessantly.” To Olivia, Trevor’s comment sounded like a line from a play.
Olivia’s bench seat offered the fullest view of the park, so she was first to notice a figure jogging toward the band shell. The moonlight revealed a fluffy head of bouncing hair that could belong to no one in town but Maddie Briggs. Spunky lifted his head and watched her approach with eager, perked ears.
“Where did you say you worked, Howie?” Trevor’s voice was too smooth. “The local bank, isn’t it? Funny how things turn out. Howie Upton, math genius, destined for great success in the financial world…and here you are, thirty-four years old, a teller in a small-town bank.”
Maddie must have reached hearing range, because she halted and stood quietly in the grass. Olivia had to remind herself to breathe. She’d wondered about Howie’s lowly position, too, but Trevor’s tone implied he possessed information that Howie wanted to keep secret. Of course, Trevor’s insinuations might be wild guesses based on a plausible-yet-fabricated theory about Howie’s failure to achieve what his schoolmates expected of him. Either way, Olivia decided to keep her distance from Trevor Lane. Although she found herself very curious about the past relationship among these three men.
“I come bearing cookies,” Maddie announced heartily as she climbed the band-shell steps. Exchanging a swift glance with Olivia, she handed the plate to Dougie, who expressed delight as he selected a teal heart-shaped cookie. Dougie passed the treats on to Trevor. “There’s plenty for seconds,” Maddie said. “I’ve been a busy baker.”
“How delightful,” Trevor said in his silkiest voice. He made a show of trying to choose between a peppermint-striped wedding cake and a rose-covered chapel.
“Take both,” Maddie said.
“I believe I will, one for dinner and one for dessert. Thank you, Maddie.” With the plate on his lap, Trevor picked up each cookie with long, graceful fingers and placed them side-by-side on the palm of his left hand. “And by the way, don’t worry about Lenora’s plan for you to provide even more cookies for her little amateur playlet. We adore Lenora, of course, but she does occasionally mistake herself for the center of the universe.”
“When everyone knows you are the center of the universe,” Howie said under his breath.
“Are you excited about your celebration and upcoming nuptials, Maddie?” Dougie asked.
One Dead Cookie Page 11
