A Cookie Before Dying

by Lowell, Virginia

  “You’re the one who’s out of it,” Charlene said. “I think all that sugar has eaten holes in your brain. Charlie is my brother, not yours. I’m here to talk to Jason. Your brother.”

  That superior edge had slipped back into Charlene’s voice. For a split second, Olivia wanted to slap her; then she remembered that someone already had. Olivia looked around for her mother. Wasn’t this where she was supposed to take over and calm the atmosphere? “I wasn’t aware you and Jason were friends,” Olivia said and instantly wished she’d stuffed a cookie in her own mouth. Charlene and Jason had been friends in high school.

  “This is a small town,” Charlene said. “As you know, your younger brother is in my age group. Why wouldn’t we be friends?”

  “Jason was in the cookbook nook a little while ago.” Olivia’s tone was curt, but she was beyond caring. “He was eating cookies. Lots of cookies.” So much for “handling” the situation with patience.

  Charlene’s perfect little chin lifted a notch. “Then I’d better find him fast. I’ve wasted too much time waiting for your sugar-soaked brain to focus. I need to save Jason from the same fate.”

  It’s time to announce the contest winner,” Maddie said as she handed Olivia a Gingerbread House recipe card with one name on it.

  Olivia glanced at the name and whispered, “Jason was convinced he would win. Looks like you didn’t give him enough hints.”

  “Give me some credit, Livie. I’m not a complete pushover. I gave him a couple hints, like the Duesenberg, but it turns out he isn’t the only old car fanatic in the crowd. Also, Jason isn’t a baker, so he hasn’t developed the knack of identifying shapes. He thought the baby rattle was a barbell. It seems he didn’t process the whole baby context of the mobile.”

  “He really wanted that Duesenberg cutter,” Olivia said. Maybe she would give it to him—if he didn’t irritate her too much beforehand.

  “Believe me, everyone knows how much Jason wants that cutter,” Maddie said. “I’d feel bad for him except he’s been whispering with Charlene in the nook. They seem pretty cozy. Just thought I’d warn you. Now let’s get cracking, the troops are assembling.”

  Olivia and Maddie headed toward the picture window looking out on the town square. Customers watched in hushed silence, as if Olivia were about to announce the next governor of Maryland. Gotta love those cookie cutter fans.

  “Thank you all for finding time on a Tuesday morning to join us for this impromptu celebration of the harvest and the eventual return of cool, crisp weather.” Olivia searched faces for Charlene but didn’t see her. She didn’t see Jason, either, which seemed odd given his longing to win the Duesenberg cutter. “I know many of you need to get back to work, so I’ll get right to the important part. Our cookie cutter contest winner today is . . . Gwen Tucker!”

  As expected, Gwen selected the baby rattle for her free vintage cookie cutter. After congratulations, the majority of customers vacated the store, having feasted on a lunch of decorated cookies. For a fleeting moment, Olivia wondered if Charlene might have a point about The Gingerbread House being a den of wicked overindulgence. However, Charlene emerged alone from the cookbook nook and flung her a look of disdain, which erased Olivia’s guilt. Instead of leaving the store, Charlene joined her brother Charlie at the beverage cart by the front door. She appeared to be fixing herself a cup of tea.

  Ellie appeared beside Olivia. “Overall, that went quite well, don’t you think?”

  “Easy for you to say. You didn’t have to deal with Charlene. Where were you, anyway?”

  “Right behind you,” Ellie said. “I could see you were doing fine, so I busied myself elsewhere.”

  “I wasn’t doing fine at all. I got flustered and sounded like a nasty idiot.”

  “Yes, dear, and it was a very effective strategy. Charlene is so sadly insecure. You gave her the opportunity to feel superior, which soothed her righteous anger. I’ve used that approach myself on numerous occasions. You must have picked it up from me.” Ellie glanced up at the Hansel and Gretel clock, so stunning and yet so difficult to read. Since it had been Ellie’s gift, in celebration of The Gingerbread House’s opening, no one minded its imperfections. Ellie said, “I have a voice lesson in either thirty or forty-five minutes, so we have just enough time.”

  “Time for what?” Olivia asked.

  “For me to tell you what I have learned.”

  Spunky whimpered in ecstasy and ran circles around their ankles when Olivia and Ellie entered the upstairs apartment, leaving Maddie and Bertha to cover the store. On normal days he held court in the store, enjoying numerous ear scratches and the occasional treat from customers. On event days, however, he had to stay in the apartment. Crowds seemed to trigger memories of his puppy-mill days, which led to escape attempts.

  Leaving her mother in the living room with the small Yorkie on her lap, Olivia brewed a pot of coffee and sliced some carrots and celery. Okay, maybe Charlene was getting to her. At the last minute, Olivia added some cheese crackers to the serving tray. And a couple dog treats, to make up for the ones Spunky missed because he’d been trapped upstairs all morning. Back in the living room, Spunky settled at Olivia’s feet to crunch.

  “Okay, talk,” Olivia said. “What have you got on Charlene ?”

  “That sounds so harsh, dear. I’ve gleaned a bit of background, that’s all. But first, I have a few things to share about Maddie and also about your brother.”

  “Old news, Mom. Maddie won’t speak to Lucas because he asked her to marry him—don’t ask me to explain it—and Jason is an idiot because he is besotted with Charlene.”

  Ellie nibbled on a carrot stick and smiled in that calm and knowing way that always made Olivia want to crush something. “Okay, Mom, out with it.” Spunky’s ears perked up at Olivia’s tone.

  “I am impressed,” Ellie said as she selected a piece of celery. “Soon you won’t need me to dig up information for you. However, that time has not come yet. As for Maddie’s reaction to Lucas’s proposal, I have a starting place for you. Maddie was about ten, as I remember, when her parents died in a car crash. I know that they were living in Clarksville at the time, and I occasionally saw her mother when my watercolor group wandered in her direction to find a picturesque scene to paint. Adele had been a part of our group before she married and moved away from Chatterley Heights. She always joined us when we gathered close to Clarksville, which we did at least once a month. Adele used to paint in the loveliest shades of pink and red to create a vibrant aura.”

  Olivia grabbed a handful of carrot sticks and bit off several tips at once.

  “Livie, I promise I’m going somewhere with this. You see, Adele was a lot like Maddie—enthusiastic, full of energy and ideas. But a few months before the accident, she began to change. She grew quieter and much thinner and—this is significant, I think—she started painting with blues and purples.”

  Olivia dropped the carrots on her plate. “You think she was depressed? Or drinking, maybe?”

  “I saw no evidence of drinking, but who knows? Mostly, she seemed terribly sad. I tried to question her about it the last time I ever saw her. She was vague, but she did say something about her husband having some problems. Apparently, she never shared her situation with anyone else from my circle, so I can only guess at what was going on. I did wonder if her husband was having an affair. Has Maddie ever talked about that time with you?”

  Olivia shook her head. “All she’s ever said is that her memory is a blur for the period surrounding the accident. Maddie doesn’t like to dwell on anything that makes her feel sad. She’s fine with anger, as you know. But even when her high school sweetheart Bobby suddenly broke off their engagement, she reacted more with panic. We agreed that Bobby had acted like a jerk, and Maddie recovered in record time.” Olivia divided the remaining coffee between their cups and added milk and sugar to hers. She picked up a half-eaten carrot from her plate and wrinkled her nose. “I could use a cookie.”

  “Me, too,”
Ellie said. “I suppose there aren’t any left downstairs?”

  “Cleaned out. However, not to worry, I always keep a small stash in the fridge. Because you never know. . . .”

  “Absolutely. Besides, I have more information to share.”

  “I’ll put another pot of coffee on,” Olivia said. She gathered up the tired-looking vegetables and headed toward the kitchen. By the time the coffee was ready, she had chosen four decorated cookies in shapes as unlike fruits and vegetables as possible. She returned to the living room with the refilled tray, only to find Ellie balanced on one leg in a yoga position. Spunky was stretched over her foot as if he were worried she might fall over.

  Her eyes closed, Ellie said, “Just a few more seconds, dear, and I will tell you what I’ve learned about Charlene, poor child.”

  “No problem, Mom. I’ll eat one of your cookies while I’m waiting.”

  Ellie’s only response was a serene smile. After another twenty or so seconds, she relaxed and opened her eyes. “Now I feel more centered,” she said, settling cross-legged on the sofa.

  “Your balance is impressive,” Olivia said, “given your advanced age.”

  “Thank you, dear.” Ellie’s small, slender hand hovered over the cookies and finally landed on a yellow heart shape decorated with dark pink curlicues. “Now, about Charlene Critch. I had a revealing chat with your brother after he and Charlene finished their little talk. Jason tried to be evasive, but as his mother I was able to read between the lines.”

  “Jason couldn’t be evasive if you swiped his favorite wrench and held it for ransom.”

  “Which did make my task easier.” Ellie savored a small bite of her cookie before saying, “Jason does like Charlene very much, as you said.”

  “I said he’s besotted.”

  “Be that as it may, Jason sees another side of Charlene that you and Maddie do not. To him, she is vulnerable and sweet. I suspect Charlene is more comfortable with men than women, which is hardly surprising given how critical her mother, Patty, could be.” Looking pensive, Ellie nibbled on her heart cookie.

  Olivia worked on an orange-and-purple butterfly cookie, determined to be patient with her mother’s unique delivery.

  Ellie polished off her cookie and said, “I gathered from Jason that the abusive man in Charlene’s past has followed her to Chatterley Heights. Jason let slip the name Geoffrey. I suspect he is her ex-husband, the boy Jason introduced her to all those years ago. I assume you noticed Charlene’s bruised eye?” When Olivia nodded, Ellie said, “I asked Jason point-blank about the eye, but he said she was shelving some new items and hit her cheek on the corner of a shelf. He was lying, of course. I always know when Jason is lying; his left eyelid twitches.”

  “You are scary, Mom.”

  “Thank you, dear.”

  “What about Charlene’s brother, Charlie?” Olivia asked. “Could he be the one abusing her? He seems devoted to her, but that could be a sign of possessiveness.”

  Ellie pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned back against the sofa. Olivia felt a twinge of envy about her mother’s flexibility. Maybe yoga wasn’t such a revolting idea.

  “I’ve seen Charlene and Charlie together, and I’ve never noticed possessiveness on the part of either of them,” Ellie said. “In fact, I saw them yesterday morning. I was having an early breakfast at the Chatterley Café, and the two of them were there. They seemed deep in serious conversation, as if they were trying to solve a pressing problem. By the way, I noticed that Charlene paid the bill.”

  Having dispatched her second cookie, Olivia settled back to sip her coffee. “That fits with what Struts Marinksy told me. Charlie doesn’t seem to have any money, despite his inheritance.”

  “Interesting,” Ellie said, checking her watch. “However, I’ve missed my voice lesson, and my classics reading group starts in half an hour. I need to pick up my copy of Sense and Sensibility on the way.” She unrolled her petite body from the sofa and shook out the wrinkles in her loosely draped outfit. “We can both keep an eye on Charlene’s safety, but there isn’t much else we can do. Jason said she refuses to talk to the sheriff.”

  “I can at least mention to Del that someone might have blackened her eye,” Olivia said. “Even if she denies it, he should know.”

  “You realize that Charlene will blame Jason for telling.”

  “I’ll be discreet. After all, I’m not the only one who noticed the bruise.”

  Since Spunky had been stuck in the apartment all day, Olivia took him out for a short, brisk walk before returning to The Gingerbread House. It was near closing time, and Maddie was the only one left in the store. Olivia could hear her singing snatches of tunes along with her iPod. Spunky had learned to open the kitchen door by running at it full speed and flinging his little body against it. Olivia heard Maddie’s squeak of surprise when Spunky tumbled inside.

  Maddie poked her upper body through the door, held out a squirming dog, and said, “Does this belong to you?”

  “Never saw it before in my life,” Olivia said.

  “One day he’s going to break his tiny neck.” The instant Maddie plunked Spunky on the ground, he took off like a furry rocket and raced around the store. Watching the blur, Maddie said, “If he destroys any of our displays, I’ll break it for him, the little darling.”

  Olivia laughed. “You would act just like Spunky if you’d been kept prisoner all day. How were sales?”

  “Great! I will leave the counting to you, as always. You do the boring stuff, and I do the fun stuff. It works. And as resident gifted baker, I am about to tackle the cookies for Gwen and Herbie’s baby shower tomorrow evening. Yes, I know, I should have them all cut out, baked, and in the freezer ready for icing, but things got a bit hectic.” Maddie stuck her iPod buds in her ears and turned her back on Olivia. While Maddie gathered ingredients and equipment for the cookies, Olivia collected the day’s receipts and settled at her little kitchen desk. She’d hoped to talk with Maddie about Lucas’s proposal and Charlene’s response to their “harvest” cookie event, but she could tell the moment wasn’t right. Maddie hadn’t even brought up Charlene’s bruised eye. When Maddie closed the door, it couldn’t be blasted open with dynamite.

  After a couple hours of dealing with numbers, Olivia was ready to call it quits for the day. Their sales had been good for a Tuesday, but not as impressive as most previous events, especially when she factored in the cost of all those cookies the customers had consumed.

  “I’m beat,” Olivia said. “I’m going to bed early tonight.”

  Spunky trotted over to her, but Maddie gave her a puzzled look and pulled her iPod buds from her ears. “You spoke?”

  “I said I’m heading for bed. Are you planning to work all night?”

  Maddie shook her head. “I’m actually tired, for once. I’ll clean up in here and turn out the lights.”

  Olivia nestled her sleepy dog in one arm and closed the kitchen door behind her. With the store lights dimmed and the air conditioner on low, the light clink and dull shine of the cookie cutter mobiles reminded her of outdoor chimes. The store still smelled faintly of lime zest. At that moment, Olivia could not imagine leaving Chatterley Heights and moving back to Baltimore. The Gingerbread House had sneaked into her heart the way Spunky had as a puppy, the first time she’d held him.

  Feeling expansive, Olivia decided to give her brother the Duesenberg cookie cutter he so coveted. Without turning up the lights, she wound through densely packed displays to the transportation mobile from which she’d hung the cutter. It wasn’t there. Unable to comprehend what she was seeing, Olivia reached toward the spot where it had hung, on the right side of the mobile. It had to be there. Gwen had chosen the tin baby rattle cutter as her prize. And Jason wouldn’t have taken the cutter on his own. Would he?

  Maybe Maddie had given the Duesenberg to Jason. It would be like her to take pity on him because he hadn’t won the contest, even with her hints. Olivia poked her head into the kitchen and waved
to get Maddie’s attention.

  “Maddie, did you by any chance take that Duesenberg cookie cutter out of the transportation mobile?”

  “Nope,” Maddie said. “Not my job.”

  “It’s gone.”

  “It can’t be.”

  “Well, it is. Gone, absent, disappeared.”

  “Livie, you don’t think Jason would . . . ?”

  With a slow shake of her head, Olivia said, “I can’t believe that he would. It’s a valuable cutter, but Jason knows I’d let him have it free, or at least for next to nothing. Anyway, he seemed awfully focused on Charlene and her problems. It’s hard to imagine he’d even have thought about it. Well, I won’t worry about it tonight, and don’t you, either. It’ll turn up. Maybe it fell off and someone put it somewhere in the store. I’m sure we’ll find it in the light of day. You look baked to a crisp. How many days has it been since you slept?”

  Maddie yawned and stretched. “I’m fine. I went to bed early Sunday night.”

  “This is Tuesday evening. I’ll clean up. You go home and get some rest.”

  For once, Maddie didn’t argue.

  Chapter Seven

  Olivia lay awake and listed her midsummer resolutions. First, buy a new bedroom air conditioner. Second, never read the Cookie Cutter Collectors Club’s latest Cookie Crumbs newsletter right before bed. Way too stimulating. She could read a thriller and still drift off, but looking at photos of vintage cutters made her want to run out and find an all-night flea market.

  It didn’t help Olivia’s sleep problem that the temperature in her second-floor bedroom was in the mid-eighties with a dew point she could take a bath in. The Weather Channel had mentioned a storm nearby, possibly heading in their direction. It couldn’t arrive soon enough.

  Olivia lay spread-eagle on her bed wearing only panties and a loose cotton T-shirt that reached to her mid-thighs. When she’d first moved into her apartment, she had talked herself out of replacing the old window air conditioner in her bedroom. After all, it might be noisy and slow but it still worked. Frugality was her lifetime habit, inheritance or no inheritance. But with the distractions of Maddie’s impromptu cookie event and Charlene’s dramatic appearance, she hadn’t remembered to turn the useless thing on until bedtime. The day’s heat had snaked through the myriad, inevitable cracks in the old house and slithered up the staircase, gaining strength as it curled into her bedroom.