One Dead Cookie (2 page)

That’s when the manipulative little guy pulled out the big guns. He whimpered.

“Oh, honestly,” Olivia said, her exasperation tinged with guilt. “You make it sound
like I’ve locked you in prison with no food or water. I know we ran out of your treats.
I’m sorry, but I just don’t have time to go out and find a store that’s open this
time of night.”

Olivia’s rescue Yorkshire terrier, Spunky, sat on top of the Queen Anne desk, which
Olivia had placed under the
front window of her second-story apartment. It was Spunky’s favorite spot in the living
room. He had a clear view of the entire room, including the television, and he could
look out the window onto the Chatterley Heights town square.

Spunky dropped his head onto his paws as if all hope had fled.

“Nice try, Spunks. I told you, Maddie promised to pick up a box of your favorite goodies
on her way to the store tomorrow morning. That’s the best I can—”

With sudden, renewed energy, Spunky jumped up and peered out the window, his ears
perked. He stood on his hind legs, front paws tapping on the glass, and growled.

“What is it, Spunky?” Olivia hurried to the window and squinted into the darkness
beyond her porch light. She couldn’t see her own front door, which was also the door
to The Gingerbread House, the store Olivia owned and operated with her best friend
since age ten, Maddie Briggs. If someone was trying to break in…Olivia looked around
for her cell phone, then remembered she’d left it in her bedroom to charge. She’d
have to use the kitchen phone.

Spunky started yapping. His nails scraped on the window as if he wanted to jump out
and chase something…or someone. Olivia doused the living room lights and rejoined
her guard dog. All she saw was darkness, but Spunky kept up his fierce warning. His
attention focused on the right side of the park. Streetlamps provided some light for
the sidewalks around the square, but not much beyond. The businesses that lined the
square showed up in outline. Most of them used porch lights at night, but not much
more than sixty-watt bulbs. Chatterley Heights considered itself safe from big-city
crime, despite evidence to the contrary.

Olivia couldn’t see anything suspicious outside. She
wondered if it was worth calling 911 because Spunky saw something he didn’t like.
He didn’t like squirrels or chipmunks or cats or most other dogs. At that moment,
Spunky lost interest. He dropped to all fours and yawned. Olivia hoped the excitement
had distracted him from his obsession with his missing treats. Just in case, she turned
on Animal Planet before returning to her box of cookie cutters.

Olivia settled on her sofa and picked up the butterfly cookie cutter that had reminded
her of Clarisse Chamberlain. Olivia still missed their long talks. Clarisse had been
both friend and business mentor to her. It was due to Clarisse’s encouragement that
Olivia had mustered the courage to open The Gingerbread House. For that alone, Olivia
felt deeply grateful. Working in The Gingerbread House, helping customers select sugar
sprinkles or icing colors, baking and decorating cookies with Maddie: all of it made
Olivia’s heart smile even when her feet ached.

Clarisse Chamberlain had amassed an impressive and valuable cookie cutter collection,
which she’d bequeathed to Olivia. The box next to her on the sofa and the ones on
the living room floor were only a small part of that collection. Clarisse would have
been delighted to know that her beloved cutters would be featured at the upcoming
engagement party for Maddie and her fiancé, Lucas Ashford, owner of Heights Hardware,
right next door.

In happier times, Olivia and Clarisse had once explored a huge flea market a few miles
from Chatterley Heights. One vendor had been selling off his deceased mother’s substantial
cookie cutter collection, much of which dated back to the 1980s and ’90s. The cutters
were interesting but not terribly valuable. With a sudden gasp, Clarisse had grabbed
a simple, well-used butterfly shape and held it in the palm of her hand. “My mother
had a cutter exactly like
this,” she’d said. “It was her favorite. I couldn’t find it among her things after
her death.” Olivia now held that very cutter in the palm of her own hand. She smoothed
her fingertip over a dent in the wing, remembering Clarisse’s delight that the piece
was worn, which meant it had been loved. Olivia placed it on her coffee table.

Spunky, now bored with the animal channel, eyed the butterfly cookie cutter on the
coffee table, his ears perked with interest. He must have decided it was either a
treat or a toy, because he hopped off his perch on the desk, trotted over to the coffee
table, and jumped up. He sniffed the butterfly’s wing and wagged his fluffy tail.

Olivia knew what that meant. Spunky had decided the butterfly was a doggie toy. “Hey,”
Olivia said. “Not everything in this apartment belongs to you, kiddo.”

Spunky, naturally, dismissed his mistress’s statement as illogical and tried to capture
the entire butterfly in his teeth. When that proved awkward, he nudged the cutter
off the table with his nose and leaped down after it. Olivia followed, but not fast
enough. Spunky caught the hemmed edge of the butterfly wing between his teeth and
pranced toward the kitchen.

“This is a sneaky way to get some extra dog food, isn’t it?” Olivia followed Spunky
into the kitchen. As she reached into his bag of dry food, the phone rang. Olivia
glanced at her clock. Midnight. The phone had come with the house, and Olivia had
gotten a new answering machine installed with caller ID. It hadn’t taken long to discover
that only telemarketers called her home number, so she usually left the answering
machine unplugged. Her cell was in her bedroom, turned off and plugged into its charger.
She figured the call was probably from Maddie, who never paid attention to the time
when she wanted to talk.

“Maddie can wait until tomorrow morning,” Olivia explained to Spunky, who never took
his liquid brown eyes off the kibbles in his mistress’s hand. “You and I need to finish
selecting the cutters to use for this ever-expanding extravaganza she insists on hosting.”

On the other hand, what if it’s an emergency?
As Olivia reached for the receiver, the phone went silent.

Olivia dropped some of the dry food into Spunky’s bowl and poured herself a glass
of merlot. Before she could wedge the cork back into the bottle, the phone rang again.
Olivia took a small sip of wine and answered.

“I assume you are engrossed in party planning?”

“Hi, Maddie. Did you know it’s past midnight? And that it’s my turn to open the store
tomorrow morning, bright and early?” Olivia watched Spunky dive into his late snack
with reckless abandon.

“Have you been drinking merlot without me? Hang on, I’ll be right over.”

“Oh no, you won’t,” Olivia said. “We agreed. This is my gift to you, since you won’t
accept anything that costs actual money. I’m making special cookies and a magnificent
cookie cake for your engagement party, using original recipes and Clarisse’s cutters.”

A long and distinctly audible sigh traveled across the phone line. “It’s not that
I don’t trust you, Livie, but…”

“What, you think I’m not creative enough to come up with a couple new cookie recipes?
Hold that thought. I want to get my cell from the bedroom. I’ll call you right back.”

Olivia retrieved her cell and speed-dialed Maddie, who said, “Don’t be silly. If we
were talking casseroles, then yes, I can’t see you creating anything remotely edible.
But cookies? No problem. It’s just that…well, you know me.
I don’t want to miss the fun. Couldn’t I be your helper? Pretty please with pink petal
dust on top?”

“I wonder…,” Olivia murmured as she thought,
Petals…petals make me think of flowers and—

“You’ll let me help?” Maddie asked.

“You just did.” Olivia envisioned a pyramid made of daisy-shaped cookies with a bouquet
of fresh flowers on top. Maddie and Lucas’s party would be held in the extravagant
garden behind the upscale Bon Vivant restaurant, so the theme was…“Perfect,” Olivia
said.

“Come on, Livie. I could just help you bake. You’d hardly notice I was there.”

“Impossible. See you in the store tomorrow.”

“Poop head,” Maddie said. “Anyway, that isn’t why I called. And don’t hang up, you’ll
want to hear this.”

“Hmm?” Olivia walked back into the living room and used her remote to mute the television.
On Animal Planet, lions were hunting down antelopes. At least, Olivia thought they
were antelopes. She cringed, but Spunky, who’d made fast work of the kibbles and had
returned to his earlier post, looked fascinated, in a predatory sort of way. Holding
her cell to her ear, Olivia nestled on the sofa along with the box of cookie cutters.

“I hope you’re listening, Livie, because you’ll want to know this. It involves Binnie
Sloan.”

“Uh-oh, what has our intrepid pseudo-reporter immortalized in print this time?” Binnie
Sloan published the local newspaper,
The Weekly Chatter
, which consisted mostly of gossip.

“A rumor,” Maddie said. “At least that’s what Binnie claims. I’m guessing she made
it up. She hinted in her blog that you and Del had a parting of the ways and no longer
speak to each other.”

“Really? I wonder when that happened. You’d think I’d remember.” Olivia began to rummage
through a box of cutters, hunting for flower shapes.

“Binnie was vague on that point,” Maddie said, “but apparently a huge fight was involved,
unforgivable insults were exchanged, and irreconcilable differences ensued. She did
refer to your tendency to stick your nose into Del’s professional business and that
he’s sick of it.”

“Was that a quote from Del?” Olivia found a tulip cookie cutter and started a pile
of garden-themed shapes on her coffee table.

“Binnie implied that she’d spoken with Del, so I’m guessing he said no such thing.
It doesn’t even sound like him. Del is a pretty easygoing guy, plus I doubt he’d give
Binnie an interview under any circumstances.”

Olivia knew from personal experience that Del could get testy on occasion, but only
about something important. Like her safety…and her apparent disregard for it. That
was an issue they continued to work on, but Del had shown no signs of extreme frustration
with Olivia or their relationship. Quite the opposite, in fact. “Well, thanks for
the update,” Olivia said. “I don’t intend to fret, and I’m sure Del won’t either.
And now I need to get back to…well, you’ll just have to wait and see.”

“But wait! There’s more!” Whenever Maddie mimicked a late-night infomercial, it meant
she’d kept the juiciest news for last.

“Of course there is,” Olivia said.

“I hear weary resignation in your voice, Livie. However, you need to hear this; it’s
weird.”

“Is this another invention from Binnie’s strange mind?” Olivia removed three cutters
from her box. She’d netted a six-petaled flower, a bunny, and an Eiffel Tower shape.
The
flower worked, and the bunny was gardenish, in a cute yet destructive way. The Eiffel
Tower went back into the box.

“Binnie swears up and down in her blog that this rumor came anonymously through email.”
Maddie’s normally bubbly tone had quieted. “If I had access to that email, I could
probably track the source, but Binnie claims she deleted it to protect her source
from exposure.

“Here’s the scoop: Del has become interested in ‘a pretty, younger woman’ who works
part-time in The Gingerbread House. You are furious. You are threatening to fire your
pretty, younger, part-time employee. At least Binnie didn’t publish Jennifer’s name,
address, and phone number.”

“This is disturbing.” Olivia abandoned her one-handed cookie cutter search and curled
her legs underneath her on the sofa. “Everyone knows the only young woman we’ve hired
lately is Jennifer Elsworth. I doubt the poor woman has been in town for more than
a few days. I’ve gotten in Binnie’s way more than once, so I can understand her going
after me. I don’t care what nonsense she makes up about my life, but I won’t have
her dragging our employees into her nasty little fantasies.”

“Binnie is clever, in a sneaky, conniving kind of way,” Maddie said, “but why would
she take revenge on you through an innocent bystander? You and Del will just ignore
her insults, as long as they aren’t illegal. But Binnie doesn’t know Jennifer. What
if she has a violent temper…or a boyfriend with a violent temper? Or what if she sues
Binnie for slander or something? Wait, I’m starting to enjoy this.”

“It’s libel, not slander, and anyway, it takes only a few minutes to get on Binnie’s
bad side,” Olivia said. “Maybe Jennifer insulted Nedra.”

“Possible,” Maddie said. “Binnie loves that strange niece of hers. Jennifer is pretty
and personable, and Ned is Ned. She’s emaciated, rarely speaks, points her camera
at you when you’re emptying the garbage…. I’ll stop there.”

“I suppose we don’t know Jennifer very well, either,” Olivia said. “She’s great with
customers, and she knows a fair amount about cookie cutters and making decorated cookies.
Which is why we—or more accurately, you—hired her without references. Have you talked
with her about this rumor of Binnie’s?”

“You bet I did.” Maddie sounded as close to angry as Olivia had ever heard her. “I
told Jennifer that the best way to handle Binnie Sloan is to ignore anything she says
or does. That drives her crazy. I said, ‘Don’t let Binnie get to you. If someone is
rude enough to repeat what she blogged about you, just roll your eyes and snort in
derision.’ I had to demonstrate that for her, so we ended up laughing. I offered to
help her sue Binnie, but she shrugged and said it wasn’t important. So I think she’s
okay for now.”

Olivia checked her watch. “Gotta go, Maddie. I’ve got some creative baking to do if
you want those special cookies for your engagement bash. I’m opening the store tomorrow.
I’ll have a talk with Jennifer when she comes in to work. I don’t really know much
about her. Not that I’m worried Del might really be interested in her.”