As Dougie watched the sheep graze, Olivia studied his profile for hints to his mood. He gave little away. Olivia found herself more curious than ever about this articulate man with the face and body of a fighter.
Dougie reached into the pocket of his flannel shirt and drew out two bone-shaped dog treats, like Spunky’s, only bigger. When Dougie whistled, the sheepdog abandoned his post and galumphed across the pasture toward him. “Good boy,” Dougie said. “You’ve been working hard. You need sustenance.” He tossed the treat over the dog’s head. Apparently used to the game, the sheepdog had already determined the treat’s trajectory and found it with no difficulty.
An unexpected thought flashed through Olivia’s mind: Are these displays of kindness for my benefit? As if he’d sensed her doubt, Dougie said, “I frequently prefer animals to people. Animals hunt because they are hungry.” He raised his arm to throw another treat to the sheepdog.
“I suppose there are many types of hunger,” Olivia said.
Dougie’s arm dropped to his side, the second dog treat still in his hand. “You really should stay out of this, Livie.”
“My friend is implicated in a murder she didn’t commit. I’ll do whatever I have to do.”
“Trevor had many enemies, some of them as ruthless as he was.” Dougie focused those translucent, impenetrable eyes on Olivia’s face. “I’m going to tell you something about Trevor and hope it will serve as a warning to you. It involves me, as well. I’m certain the police know already, so it won’t be a secret for long.” Dougie turned to gaze at the pasture. The sheepdog trotted over to him, hoping for another snack. Dougie threw the dog-bone treat in the air. The dog caught it in his mouth, wagged a thank-you, and ran toward a wandering sheep.
“Given your reputation,” Dougie said, “I’m guessing you already know part of my story. I was once married, for a short time, to a sweet and talented young poet. I loved her deeply, but she wasn’t very stable. She suffered severe bouts of depression. Pills didn’t help, and sometimes my presence seemed to worsen the condition, especially when I was consumed by my own writing. So I began to take trips away from home, during which I lived in cheap motels and wrote plays. I thought I was helping. In fact, she became resentful, as if I were abandoning her. She began to have affairs. Her last affair was with Trevor. He was doing mostly commercials at the time. While I was gone, Trevor would fly to New York to stay with my wife. Then he tired of her. He broke off with her by never communicating with her again.”
“And then she killed herself,” Olivia said.
“I thought you might have learned about that,” Dougie said. “Yes, she killed herself. I found her when I returned from one of my writing holidays.”
Or writing escapes? Olivia could imagine how Dougie’s helpful absence might have felt more like desertion to his wife.
Dougie leaned against the fence and stared down at the grass. “Trevor was self-obsessed and cruel. His brutal treatment of Anna is only one example. He assumed others existed to fill his needs. I could name fifty people who are angry enough to have murdered Trevor and mutilated his body. Some of them might attend Maddie’s engagement party tomorrow.”
Including you. The bright sunlight couldn’t stop the chill that went through Olivia as she considered how many of Maddie and Lucas’s guests might have known and despised Trevor Lane. Would one of them turn out to be his killer?
Chapter Eighteen
The Gingerbread House kitchen qualified for disaster status, but Olivia and Maddie had finished, in record time, a rose-petal cookie cake and many dozens of garden-themed lavender-lemon decorated cookies. Only their fragrances lingered in the kitchen. Lucas and several Heights Hardware employees had carted the goodies to the Bon Vivant garden to join the dozens of wedding-theme cookies they’d delivered earlier.
“Maddie, stop fidgeting.” A tiny pearl button slipped from Olivia’s grasp as she tried to push it through a loop. She leaned her hip against the kitchen counter to steady herself. “There must be a million of these little buttons. No wonder Aunt Sadie’s eyes bothered her while she was making your dress.”
“You must admit, it’s the most gorgeous wedding dress ever created. And I get to wear it twice! First, to my engagement party, where it will be seen and admired by scads of people, and then to my quiet, little wedding. I hope no one spills wine on it today.” Maddie hugged herself with happiness.
“Now you’re making it even harder to button.”
“Oops, sorry,” Maddie said. “I need to calm and center myself, as your mother would say. You know what would calm and center me? We should discuss our investigative strategy for this afternoon.”
“Our strategy is to relax, have fun, and keep the cookies flowing.” Olivia slipped another button through its loop. “Just half a million to go,” she said.
“Livie, everybody will be at the engagement party; it’s the perfect time to unmask the murderer. Tomorrow, everyone will scatter.”
“You’re right: your dress is stunning, one of a kind, priceless. Aunt Sadie risked her fragile eyesight to design and create it for you, her beloved niece and adoptive daughter. She slaved over it day and—”
“I get it, Livie, I get it. If I chase down and subdue a killer, I might get my dress dirty.”
Olivia buttoned the last button and spun Maddie around to face her. “Dirty? Your lovely dress might be torn to shreds.”
Maddie let out a sigh worthy of a spoiled teenager. “Okay, fine. You’re right. But has Del figured out who killed Trevor, or is he going to railroad poor, dumb Wade? What’ll happen to Stacey and the kids?”
“Del gave me a quick call this morning to assure me he is covering all the bases.”
“But Livie, what bases is he covering, and are they the right ones?” A spiral of red hair plopped onto Maddie’s nose. “I knew this hairdo was a mistake. Hang on, I’ll get the mirror.” She picked up her long skirt, sprinted to the tiny kitchen bathroom, and returned with the small mirror Olivia had hung from a nail. “Hold this up for me.” Maddie grimaced at her reflection. “This might take a while,” she said as she ripped pins from her hair. Curls cascaded nearly to her shoulders and across her face.
“Anybody home under there?” Olivia asked as she pushed the curls away from Maddie’s face.
“Oh sure, go ahead and mock.” Maddie sounded distinctly irritable. “This is what always happens when I try to look glamorous.” She pawed through the kitchen junk drawer until she found a piece of twine. “This will have to do, since I can’t find any of those thick rubber bands in vivid colors.”
“I bought a whole bag of them only a week ago,” Olivia said. “Hang on, something is making this drawer stick.” She reached her hand toward the back of the drawer, where she felt a soft package. “I’ll bet this is the bag of bands,” Olivia grasped ahold of the package and pulled. She felt the bag stretch, but it remained stuck, as did the drawer.
“Here, let me. A little muscle ought to do it.” Maddie yanked the drawer pull with the strength and impatience of a frazzled bride-to-be with disastrous hair. The drawer broke free and exploded from its cavity. The contents flew in all directions. “There,” Maddie said. “I feel much better now.”
Olivia began to gather up the detritus. “It was time to clean the junk drawer, anyway.” She scooped up a small paper bag. “What’s this?”
“My guess is, it’s junk,” Maddie said. “It doesn’t look familiar, though. Open it.”
Olivia reached inside the bag and withdrew a paper towel wrapped around a light object. She opened the towel.
“What is it?” Maddie asked. “Livie? What’s wrong?”
Olivia held out her hand. A cookie cutter nestled in the crinkly paper towel.
“Geez.” Maddie reached for the cutter. “That sure looks like a gavel.”
“Don’t touch it.” Olivia jerked her hand back, out of reach.
“But how did it get here? At least one of us has been in this kitchen almost nonstop since before Trevor…”
“The operative word is ‘almost.’ I can think of numerous times when the kitchen was empty. In fact, when Jennifer dropped off all the baking supplies we needed, she used your key to the store.”
“Are you sure it’s the gavel cutter?” Maddie asked. “How do we know it isn’t another plant, like the one in Stacey’s dishwasher?”
“We don’t know for sure. We’ll have to wait until it goes through forensics.” Olivia used the kitchen phone to call Del. When the call went to voice mail, she said, “Hi, Del. Maddie and I are about to leave for the party, but I’ve got something important to tell you. We just found another gavel cookie cutter, this time in the Gingerbread House kitchen. Call me.”
“Should we drop it off at the police department?” Maddie asked.
“Let’s give Del some time to—” Olivia’s cell rang. She flipped it open and said, “What a coincidence. Hi, Del. I was just…Okay, we’ll wait for you. He’ll be here in a few minutes,” she said as she hung up.
Olivia rewrapped the gavel cutter in its paper towel. She placed it on the counter, out of Maddie’s line of sight, and pulled a chair next to her friend. “I’m sorry, Maddie,” Olivia said.
Maddie started, as if her thoughts had carried her far away. “What?”
“I said, I’m sorry this had to happen today, of all days.”
“Don’t be silly, Livie. I’m envisioning the wonderful stories I could tell my children about how their mother caught a killer at Mommy and Daddy’s engagement party.”
Olivia couldn’t think of anything to say, though apparently her expression spoke for her.
“You think I couldn’t do it, don’t you…totally subdue a killer, I mean. Making decorated cutout cookies day in and day out isn’t for weaklings, you know. Plus I’ve been helping Lucas out in the hardware store when I have Sundays free. You should see me wield an electric saw.”
“Were you planning to bring an electric saw to your engagement party?” A vivid image flashed through Olivia’s mind. She saw Maddie in her slinky satin dress, her hair spiraling out like curls of flame…and an electric saw in her hands, aimed like a semiautomatic rifle at a terrified criminal.
“You’re missing the point, Livie. I want to be an inspiration to my children and grandchildren…should I ever have any, that is. And I don’t plan to just yet. Why is it always the guy who saves the day?”
Olivia was excused from answering by a firm knock on the alley door. She checked the peephole to be sure Sam Parnell wasn’t hand-delivering yet another package. “It’s Del.” Maddie retrieved the paper towel package, while Olivia opened the door.
“You’re still in your uniform,” Olivia said as Del entered the kitchen.
Del took the paper towel from Maddie and slid it into a plastic bag. “This’ll have to go right to forensics. Show me where you found it.” Maddie pointed to the kitchen floor. “The drawer was stuck, so…”
“I get it,” Del said. “Leave everything as is, in case forensics wants to dust for fingerprints. Sorry, Livie, but I’ll have to meet you later, at the party. This goes straight to the lab.” He gave her a peck on the cheek and reached for the door. “I keep forgetting,” he said, twisting his head around. “Maddie, you said you could identify whether the cookie we found in…whether the cookie was one you’d made.”
“I could, almost certainly. Give me the specifics.”
“The lab said it was a sugar cookie shaped like a girl in a dress,” Del said. “A light blue dress. Ring a bell?”
“I decorated several girl shapes and iced them in different colors. Light blue was one of the colors. If the cookie had lemon flavoring, then it was definitely one I put out in the store in the morning, the same day Trevor, Dougie, and Lenora held court here.”
Del’s face puckered as if he was thinking hard. “Thanks. I’ll double-check about the lemon flavor.” He opened the alley door and left without another word.
“The last of the great romantics,” Maddie said.
Olivia grinned. “Oh, Del has his romantic moments. When he’s working, he’s working. I can understand that.”
“But we have fun when we work,” Maddie said.
“Trust me, Del is having fun. It just looks different.” Olivia glanced up at the kitchen clock. “We need to get going. Mom will already be at Bon Vivant, along with a cadre of her friends, waiting for instructions.”
“I wish we could take Spunky along,” Maddie said.
“Way too many people. He’d take off, and we’d never see him again.”
“Speaking of all those people,” Maddie said. “What information do you want me to probe for while I’m being giggly and charming?”
“I really, really want you to relax and enjoy your engagement party.” Olivia slipped her cell into the pocket of her new gray linen slacks. “Where’s my sweater?”
“Right where you tossed it, on a chair.” Maddie lifted the thin gray sweater, bought to match Olivia’s slacks, and handed it to her. “Nice silk blouse, by the way. You look good in peach. I forgive you for not wearing a dress to my engagement party.”
“I didn’t want to outshine the bride.”
“Uh-huh.” Maddie threw a pale yellow silk shawl over her shoulders. “Do you honestly think any outfit could compete with this?” She twirled around to show off the delicate purple blossoms Aunt Sadie had embroidered on her shawl.
“No contest.”
“Wise woman. In this outfit, I figure I could wheedle information out of anyone, so you might as well give me an assignment, Livie.”
Olivia slipped her sweater over her head. “Maddie, I honestly have no idea where to go from here. My mind is filled with details that don’t lead anywhere. I doubt Dougie or Howie will even show up for your party. Dougie will probably fly out tomorrow morning, if he hasn’t already left. This case is too much for me. We’ll have to count on Del.”
“Poop head,” Maddie said. “Well, never mind. I’ll figure it out by myself.”
That’s what worries me.
* * *
The recently watered garden behind the Bon Vivant restaurant sparkled in the bright sunlight, but Olivia barely noticed. Maddie and Lucas’s engagement party would officially begin in five minutes. Bon Vivant staff and Ellie’s troupe of volunteers scurried to and from the kitchen, toting appetizers and drinks to the serving tables on the terrace behind the restaurant. Guests had begun to arrive.
Olivia finished arranging a plate piled with lavender-lemon flower-shaped cookies. She stepped back from the table to inspect her work, but her mind refused to pay attention. She wished she could take her own advice and forget about Trevor Lane, at least for the duration of the party. But her dear friend Stacey Harald, through no fault of her own, was in hiding with her kids, because she’d been set up to look complicit in Trevor’s murder. Time was running out. Soon the suspects would scatter, and Stacey would have to come home to face the stares and the gossip and…Binnie Sloan.
Olivia’s mother, Ellie, floated across the patio toward her, wearing a flowing dress of teal silk, tied at her slender waist with a pale yellow silk scarf. Her husband, Allan, tagged along behind. He looked sharp in a three-piece pinstripe suit he’d once worn as a corporate executive.
“Livie, dear,” Ellie said, “you are looking lovely, yet glum. The refreshments are under control. Perhaps you would feel better if you began to mingle.”
“Helping Stacey would make me feel better, Mom. Or baking and decorating cookies. But mingling? That would make me cranky.”
“I know this is a tough situation for you,” Allan said. “Anything we can do to help?”
“Maybe…Allan, your knowledge of the Internet is pretty sophisticated, right?”
“Oh, well, I—”
“Allan’s knowledge of the Internet is superb,” Ellie said. “What do you need him to do? Hack into the police files?”
Allan glanced nervously at a young couple approaching them. “Ellie, I don’t think—”
“But deare
st, it’s for the greater good,” Ellie said. “You are so clever.”
“You wouldn’t have to do anything illegal,” Olivia said. A group of party guests, filling their plates with goodies, had moved close enough to hear their conversation. Olivia led her mother and stepfather farther away from the serving tables. “Allan,” she said, once they were out of earshot, “is it possible to post something anonymously?”
“Depends on who’s reading the post,” Allan said with a grin.
“If you were reading it?”
Allan’s grin widened. “Unlikely. Back when I worked for…” He glanced at Ellie. “Back when I worked for bloodsucking corporations, I was the one they called upon to trace hackers to their lairs. I got pretty good at it.”
“Oh excellent Stepfather, thank you for marrying my mother. Here’s what I need: have a chat with Howie Upton, assuming he shows up here.”
“Howie is already here, Livie.” Ellie pointed her head toward the chow line. Howie Upton was dressed in a three-piece suit that hung loose on his thin body. He was piling his plate with a little bit of everything.
“Just have a chat with him,” Olivia said. “Bring up the subject of posting online. I want to know if he has the expertise to post something in such a way that your average hacker, like Maddie, couldn’t trace the source of the post.”
Allan grinned. “Intriguing. And here I thought I’d be bored at this shindig.”
“Please be casual about it,” Olivia begged. “Howie is smart. I don’t want him to get suspicious about why you are talking to him.”
“Livie, Howie and I are the only guests wearing three-piece suits. It’s entirely natural that we would cluster together.”
“Why do I think the rest of us have just been insulted?”
Allan winked at her, bent over to give his petite wife a peck on the cheek, and strode toward Howie.
“It was kind of you to send Allan on assignment, Livie,” Ellie said. “He does love to feel his expertise is useful.”
“I wasn’t being kind. Believe me, I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
One Dead Cookie Page 24
