By the time Olivia returned to the table, Stacey had finished consuming both bunny ears and the fluffy tail. “We’re on the verge of bankruptcy,” Stacey said. “We could lose the house. Wade feels responsible, and he should.”
“I thought you got the house in the divorce settlement,” Olivia said.
“I did, and I refinanced to get the payments down to what I could handle from my own salary. I didn’t really trust Wade to stay sober and employed. He was paying child support, though, and we needed that. Still, the kids and I were doing okay, even after this recession hit. We cut back, the kids pitched in…. They both got little jobs like babysitting and lawn mowing. Then Wade did something stupid. For the right reasons, of course, but still…He hated that Rachel had to quit ballet, and Tyler would miss out on sports, so he started paying for all that himself. I guess it made him feel good, so he bought them clothes and new bikes and so on. He kept telling me his boss was giving him raises. Only she wasn’t. He was maxing out his one credit card. You can guess the rest.” Stacey bit off her bunny’s head.
“Wade sank underwater, his debt compounded, and he started drinking again?” Olivia’s own stomach tightened as she imagined how that would feel. She still owed a hefty chunk on the mortgage for her Queen Anne, as well as on a business loan. At least she had savings, thanks to a surprise inheritance from her friend, Clarisse Chamberlain.
Olivia picked out a daisy-shaped cookie and nibbled on its teal petal. Decorated cookies always had a calming effect on her. She reached across the table to squeeze her friend’s arm. “Stacey, if I’m to help, I need to understand the history between Wade and Trevor Lane. Wade went to Chatterley Heights High, so how did he and Trevor know each other?”
“There’s more to Wade than meets the eye,” Stacey said. “I divorced him for good reason, but he wasn’t always a drunk. I don’t know if you remember, but in high school Wade was an amazing athlete. He was short and skinny, but that didn’t matter one bit. You should have seen Wade run across that field. Boy, was he fast. Nobody could catch him once he got going. He’d catch that ball so quick, take off running, and he’d make a touchdown before the other players could focus their eyes.” Stacey smiled at the memory.
Olivia felt saddened by the love and admiration in Stacey’s voice, all for the man who had let her down. Wade had squandered that devotion. Yet he’d done so with the intention of providing for his family. Olivia reached for another cookie and steeled herself to drag out yet more painful information.
“Well,” Stacey said, “that’s about enough wallowing for one day. Wade may be a screwup, but he’s the father of my children, so I’m inclined to help save his scrawny neck. I don’t trust the police, not even Sheriff Del. So it’s you and Maddie and me. Now, what do you need to know?”
“The Three Mooseketeers,” Olivia said with a smile. “I need to understand why the police think Wade killed Trevor. Can you think of a motive?”
“Oh yes, I most certainly can,” Stacey said, shaking her head. “Good old Trevor Lane. There was a man asking to be murdered, even in high school.” Stacey leaned her elbows on the table, ready to work. “Like I was saying, Wade was a wonder on the football field, despite his size. His teammates loved to watch the opposing players underestimate him. After a while, of course, other teams caught on. This was high school football, so the same teams played each other every year. Wade made quite an impression his first year, and the next year the coach made him quarterback.”
“When was this?” Olivia asked. “As you probably remember, I wasn’t much of a sports fan. I can barely make it across the room without tripping over my own feet…as my mother keeps pointing out to me.”
“Many of us have noticed that endearing trait,” Stacey said. “Wade became a quarterback in the fall of our freshman year. He was a junior.”
“So Trevor Lane and Dougie Adair were about the same age as Wade?”
“Yep,” Stacey said. “All three were juniors. Trevor and Dougie played on the Twiterton football team. Trevor was their quarterback. A very popular quarterback, I might add. At least, that’s what Wade told me at the time. When the two teams played each other the year before, Wade was playing defense, and he did some fancy move, the name of which I’ve forgotten. Trevor got distracted by it and fumbled the ball. Boy, did he make a stink about that trick, even threatened to kill Wade, but the ref let it go. Wade was really looking forward to a repeat humiliation.”
“Uh-oh,” Olivia said. “Trevor Lane was not one to take humiliation lightly.”
“No kidding.” Stacey’s eyes strayed to the cookie box, but she resisted. “Trevor certainly took his revenge on Wade. It altered the course of Wade’s life and foretold his future. I should have seen it coming…. If I had, I might not have married the poor guy.”
“Do you wish you hadn’t married him?” Olivia asked.
“Not for a minute. Rachel and Tyler are great kids. I can’t imagine life without them. Wade and I had some good years, and I’m grateful for those, too. However, things are what they are, and I have to protect my kids. Wade knows I won’t let them spend time with him if he’s been drinking. Up until lately, he’s been careful.”
Olivia poured the last of the coffee into their cups. “What did Trevor Lane do to Wade all those years ago?”
Stacey poured a dollop of cream into her cup. “Trevor used his acting skills, such as they were. He and that sidekick of his, Dougie, invited Wade to meet them before the game for a ‘friendly’ drive in Trevor’s old Cadillac. I think it was a hand-me-down from Trevor’s father, who’d kept it in really good shape. Wade couldn’t resist the chance to ride in a car like that. Even back then, he was in love with cars.”
“I’m surprised Wade was willing to go off with those two right before a game,” Olivia said. “Especially after Trevor’s threat the year before.”
“That’s my Wade,” Stacey said. “Trusting to a fault. That’s actually one of his more endearing qualities. When Trevor said he wanted to let bygones be bygones, Wade never questioned. Just like he wasn’t suspicious when Trevor offered him a large bottle of cola that was already open.”
“Oh no.”
“Yep.” Stacey gave in to temptation and commandeered another cookie, a pale blue dove with a silver dragée eye. “Too pretty to eat,” she said. “Almost.” Nestling the cookie on her plate, Stacey said, “Poor, sweet Wade…he didn’t get suspicious even when Trevor and Dougie drank nothing. The cola was, of course, spiked with pills.”
“And with a game coming up in…”
“In a couple hours,” Stacey said. “They were supposed to be on a dinner break. Coaches around here weren’t too rigid about knowing where their players were until they were due to start warming up. It was assumed they were home with their families. After that night, the rules changed.”
“So I gather Wade was not at his best during the game?” Olivia couldn’t help feeling sad for the young, naive Wade Harald. Adolescence could be a minefield.
“If by ‘not at his best’ you mean doped up, as well as hyped-up on caffeine, then you got it right. Wade was kicked out of the game, off the team, and questioned by the police. He told them what happened, but Trevor and Dougie denied any involvement. They tested clean for drugs, so the police believed them. It didn’t help Wade’s credibility that he lost his temper very publicly and vowed to ‘get’ Trevor and Dougie no matter how long it took.”
“Which would be why Del arrested him for Trevor’s murder?”
Stacey nodded. “He made himself the perfect suspect. Only I don’t believe for a minute that my Wade has it in him to murder someone, let alone the imagination to create such a weird scene on your porch. From the rumors I’ve been hearing, the killer branded Trevor. In my wildest, most bizarre dreams, I can’t imagine Wade having the forethought to bring a branding iron along to a murder. Unless that didn’t really happen?”
Olivia grimaced. “I really shouldn’t…”
With a shrug, Stacey said, “Und
erstood. Anyway, I’ve said my piece, and now I’m hungry. Excuse me while I eat the blue dove of happiness.” She removed the silver dragée eye and bit an impressive chunk from the dove cookie’s upper body.
Although Stacey sounded like her old no-nonsense self, Olivia noticed the shadows under her cornflower blue eyes. “Speaking of rumors,” Olivia said, “there’s one going around that you were laid off from your job at the elementary school.”
Stacey shook her head. “Not yet. There’s talk of layoffs at the school, but I haven’t heard anything definite. I’ll admit the possibility is wedged somewhere at the back of my mind. However, knowing our administration, layoffs would be a last resort. We’re down to the bone as it is.” Stacey swept a few crumbs off the table and onto her empty plate. A worry wrinkle had formed between her eyebrows, adding years to her lovely face.
“Just one more question for now, Stacey, and it may have nothing to do with Trevor’s death. It’s about our new employee at The Gingerbread House, Jennifer Elsworth.”
“I caught a glimpse of her in your shop,” Stacey said. “Didn’t look familiar.”
“It seems Jennifer grew up in Twiterton, left for parts unknown, and now she’s back in the area.” Olivia measured her words carefully. Stacey might feel desperate to find another suspect. “Jennifer is working out well at the store. She is quiet but good with customers. In fact, she sold the red mixer, so—”
“The red mixer? No kidding. ‘Good with customers’ is an understatement.”
“Agreed,” Olivia said with a light laugh. “It’s just that Maddie hired her without consulting me, and Jennifer didn’t have any references. You see, I like to know the background of the people we hire.”
Stacey’s teasing grin brightened her eyes. “Oh, I see, all right. Maddie hired Jennifer without telling you, she’s terrific, so you’re looking for something wrong with her. Besides, I heard that silly rumor Binnie’s been spreading about Del and Jennifer. It isn’t true, right?”
A firm denial popped into Olivia’s mind, but she squelched it. Maybe it was best to leave some doubt about why Olivia wanted information about Jennifer rather than peg her as a possible killer. Not that Stacey was the type to spread unsubstantiated rumors, but these were not ordinary circumstances. “I meant to call you about Jennifer,” Olivia said, “but I haven’t had time. Jason met her once, years ago. He said she went to Twiterton High School. Since you’ve worked so many years in school administration, I thought you might know an easy way to find out a bit about her background. Not her school records, of course, just a little about her family, that sort of thing.”
Stacey chuckled. “The easiest way I know of is to ask your mother. I’m guessing you’ve tried that, and she drew a blank?”
“Hard to believe, I know. I was aghast. Mom isn’t perfect. She said Twiterton residents were wealthier and didn’t mix much with the likes of Chatterley Heights folks. Maddie looked for Twiterton yearbooks online and only found the last three years.”
“I’m not surprised,” Stacey said. “Chatterley Heights High has managed to put two past yearbooks online, and that was with volunteer help. There’s no money to spare. With kids from well-to-do families attending private schools, even schools in wealthier areas are struggling to stay open. The office manager at Twiterton High happens to be a friend of mine. I’ll call her and see what I can dig up for you.”
“That’s great, thanks.”
“It’s the least I can do.” Stacey yawned and stretched.
Olivia gathered their plates and carried them to the kitchen sink. Before closing the box of cookies, she asked, “Sure you don’t want another? Cookies have been known to induce a sweet and restful sleep.”
“Or a tummy ache,” Stacey said. “Don’t fret; if I wake up in desperate need of a cookie, I know where to find them.”
As Stacey headed toward the guest room, Olivia knocked on Allan’s closed office door. Ellie opened the door a crack. “Oh good, it’s you,” she said as she poked her head into the hallway. She glanced up and down the corridor. “Is Stacey in her room?”
Olivia nodded. “Although given the number of cookies she ate, she will probably reappear to brush her teeth. I should take off for home soon. Sorry we took so long. You can ignore my request for cookies, Mom. I think Maddie has been baking.”
“Not a chance,” Ellie said. “Rachel and Tyler finished their homework in record time, so they have an hour to bake before bed. We were just waiting for you and Stacey to finish in the kitchen. I won’t ask how your conversation went.”
“Thanks,” Olivia said. “I assume Spunky is still napping next to the computer?”
Ellie pulled Olivia into the office and closed the door behind her. “There’s something you need to see first.” She pointed toward the computer screen, which Allan was reading.
Olivia took one look at the text and said, “Oh no, not Binnie’s blog again. Can’t we just ignore her?” Spunky’s eyes popped open in response to his mistress’s irritated tone. Once he determined Olivia wasn’t angry with him, he resumed napping.
“It is wise to keep informed, dear,” Ellie said. “Though it isn’t always pleasant. Once all this is over, I’ll need to double up on my yoga classes.”
“It’s darned nasty,” Allan said. “You’d better read this for yourself, Livie.”
With a sense of foreboding, Olivia settled in front of the screen and read the first few lines of Binnie Sloan’s blog about Wade Harald’s arrest on suspicion of murder. Although, predictably, Binnie had left out the suspicion part and jumped directly to a murder charge. “We know all this, don’t we?”
“Keep reading, dear,” Ellie said. “Think of it as an exercise in creating emotional distance.”
Olivia began again at the beginning of the blog post.
The streets of Chatterley Heights are safe once again as of this afternoon, when Sheriff Del Jenkins finally found time in his busy social life to arrest Wade Harald for the murder of visiting soap star Trevor Lane. The hunky Mr. Lane was found dead in the early morning hours, posed in a rocking chair on the porch of The Gingerbread House. That little cookie store, and the would-be sleuths who run it, do seem to attract a surprising number of violent deaths. This time, at least so far, there’s no direct evidence linking the murder to Olivia Greyson and Maddie Briggs. Or is there? Maddie is soon to be married to the strong, silent owner of Heights Hardware, who might want to reconsider whether marriage to the flighty redhead is good for his health.
“Okay, those were snarky cracks about Del, Maddie, and Lucas, but otherwise this piece is fairly low key…for Binnie.”
“Keep reading, Livie,” Ellie said.
Olivia scrolled to the next page, a photo of Olivia and Maddie chatting with Trevor and Dougie in the band shell. Howie Upton was a shadowy figure partly hidden by Dougie, who had turned his back on Howie. “This must have been one of the photos Ned Sloan took Wednesday evening. Only yesterday…”
“And only hours before Trevor’s murder,” Allan said.
“I think Livie knows that, dear.” There was a hint of sternness in Ellie’s voice.
“It’s okay, Mom. Allan is right; this doesn’t look so good. You can see Maddie and me laughing. It’s almost as if we know these men better than we let on.”
“Which is quite ridiculous,” Ellie said.
“Whoa. Down, girl.” Allan wrapped his arm around his wife’s slender shoulders. “No one takes Binnie’s innuendoes seriously.”
The next page contained the remainder of Binnie’s blog.
Our busy sheriff seems convinced he has his man. Maybe he does. Lately, Wade is drunk more than sober, and rumor has it that Struts Marinsky, the tough-as-nails owner of Struts & Bolts Garage, fired Wade for coming to work all liquored up. If you’ve had your brakes worked on recently, you might want to take your car back and demand a redo.
Meanwhile, Wade’s ex-wife and kids have taken a powder. Have they disappeared to escape the press, or are they in protective cu
stody? We’ll ask them when we locate their hiding place, which shouldn’t be long now.
But what about Olivia Greyson? What’s her part in this drama? Olivia enticed Mr. Lane to visit her store so she could impress her customers, who showed up in droves. Sounds like a teenage crush to us. Olivia has been divorced for several years now. Her relationship with the sheriff has hit a bump in the road—the young, pretty Jennifer Elsworth. Must be quite a shock for poor Olivia. First she gets dumped by her husband, a successful surgeon, and then she can’t even hold on to a small-town sheriff. Did she make a play for the darling of daytime television, only to be rejected yet again?
So we have to ask ourselves: do we have one murder suspect or two? You be the judge.
“Wow,” Olivia said. “You’ve got to admit—Binnie is cunning. She even managed to get in a dig at Del. It should be entertaining to read the responses to her post.”
“You seem to be taking this quite calmly,” Allan said in a hopeful tone.
“If I took Binnie too seriously, I’d have had a stroke by now.” Olivia closed down the offensive blog. “Or I’d be in jail for murder.”
Chapter Thirteen
By the time Olivia and Spunky arrived home, it was nearly eleven p.m. Allan had insisted on driving them. When he saw the unlit porch, he walked them to the door and waited to hear the click of the lock. As Allan had explained to Olivia, he believed Wade Harald was innocent of Trevor Lane’s murder, mostly because it seemed to involve more planning than Wade could muster. So it logically followed that the true murderer was still out there, possibly roaming the streets of Chatterley Heights.
As always, her stepfather’s logic was unassailable, so Olivia hadn’t argued with him. Besides, a ride would get her, plus one pooped pup, back home more quickly. As she unlocked the door to The Gingerbread House, she composed a mental list containing only one item: finish the cookies for Maddie and Lucas’s party, even if it took till dawn.
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