Cookie Dough or Die (31 page)

“Stop talking and leave. I need to talk to Livie alone.”

Maddie resumed her seat on the table. “I don’t think so. Over to you, Livie.”

“We have a couple items to show you,” Olivia said, “and some information we think you’ll want to hear. So sit down, dunk that cookie, and unclench those jaw muscles while I get organized.” When Del didn’t budge, she picked up the cup and plate and plunked them on the table. Pulling out a chair, she said, “Sit. I’ll be right back.”

Spunky met her at the door with frantic yapping and whining. She’d forgotten all about him, poor little guy. She noticed he’d had an accident of his own, though he had used a puppy pad.

From the small safe in her office, Olivia removed the bag of Clarisse’s cookie cutters Maddie had stowed away after Jason had delivered them. Olivia also retrieved Clarisse’s letter, dated shortly before her death, and the letter from Faith she had found in the store’s antiques cabinet. She gathered up all the other information she and Maddie had printed off the Internet, including the article about a black-haired dead woman. After dropping all the items into a bag with handles, she picked up her desperate pet and returned to The Gingerbread House.

The silence was palpable when Olivia and Spunky entered the kitchen. At least Del’s cookie had been nibbled and he had surrendered his jacket. Spunky wriggled out of her arm and raced around the kitchen, conducting a frenetic sniffing exploration. Olivia noticed Del’s eyes following the process, and she was sure his tight expression softened.

While Maddie refilled mugs with coffee and a plate with frozen cookies, Olivia spread her evidence on the table. Del read the letter from Clarisse first. Then he moved on to Faith’s note. “Who is this Faith?”

“Not a clue,” Olivia said. “At first I thought it might not be a person but rather a closing for the note—like ‘Keep the Faith’ or something. In her letter, Clarisse mentioned Faith might be a blackmailer. But I’m not so sure. To me, this looks like part of a letter, the end. I suspect Clarisse wanted me to know what was going on, in case something happened to her. She was supremely confident, but realistic, too. I think she sensed danger.”

Del put the note aside and turned to the two articles about an unidentified, dark-haired woman found dead in the Patuxent River State Park. When he finished, he stared at nothing for some time. Olivia clenched her teeth to keep from interrupting his thoughts. Even Maddie kept still.

Finally, Del gathered the papers into a pile and placed his palm over them. “Why didn’t you turn these over to me?”

“I just did,” Olivia said evenly.

“You know what I mean.”

Olivia shrugged. “Clarisse entrusted me with those letters, and she didn’t want her privacy violated. She wouldn’t have wanted it violated after her death, either. You kept insisting she died either by accident or by her own hand. I figured you would argue that someone was trying to blackmail her and that’s why she was upset. The letters alone don’t really prove she was murdered. It was those articles Maddie found that began to point me toward a possible motive.”

“I don’t see the significance of the articles,” Del said.

“We haven’t found anyone who has heard from Jasmine since she left town so suddenly.”

“Jasmine?”

“Jasmine Dubois.” Olivia was trying to keep the impatience out of her voice. “If Clarisse did have a grandchild, Jasmine was most likely to be the mother.”

Del looked genuinely puzzled. “The name sounds vaguely familiar, but . . .” He lifted his hand and picked up one of the articles about the dead woman. “Ah, I see. This happened six years ago. Eight years ago, my marriage broke up.” He dropped the paper back on his pile and went silent.

Del had never mentioned his broken marriage to Olivia. Not that she was curious, of course. But if Del began to feel self-conscious, he might not explain what his divorce had to do with Jasmine. With a slight shake of her head, Olivia warned Maddie to stay quiet.

Del said, “I needed to get away for a while, so I took a deputy job in a little town in northern Minnesota for two years. Learned a lot. Then the sheriff here retired, and I got the job. End of story. So, who is Jasmine and why is she important?”

Olivia’s energy had begun to flag; she needed a few moments to regroup. She shot a pleading look at Maddie, who gave her an understanding nod.

“Here’s the scoop,” Maddie said. “Hugh, Edward, and Clarisse all thought Jasmine was wonderful. Daddy Chamberlain and jealous girlfriend, Tammy Deacons, begged to differ. One moment Jasmine was a fixture at Pete’s Diner, raking in tips from admiring customers and hanging out with the Chamberlain brothers. The next moment, she had disappeared, leaving confused and broken hearts, never to be heard from again. Those who knew her seem vague about where she came from in the first place.”

“I see,” Del said. “So you suspect this unidentified victim might be her? Why?”

“Timing, long black hair, age about right. Also, as you will note, she had given birth.”

“That’s a lot of circumstantial evidence.”

“Agreed, but it’s the best we’ve got. Also, if you’ll look more closely at my Internet searches, you will notice I couldn’t find any evidence that she ever existed. Sort of makes you wonder.” Maddie lifted the last cookie on the plate, a chartreuse bunny rabbit. His ear became history.

“Six years ago, ordinary people were a lot less likely to find their names on the Internet,” Del said. “We weren’t drowning in social networks.”

Olivia felt some energy return and jumped in. “What Maddie is trying to say is there are too many unanswered questions and coincidences. Clarisse was murdered; the attacks on Sam and me are indirect proof of that. So who was most likely to murder her, and why? It has to be Hugh or Edward or Tammy. Or some combination of them, including all three working together.”

“Livie, you’re going off on a—”

“I think you believe us, but you want us to back off. You intend to take this information and pursue your own investigation. If we stop asking questions, you hope the killer will relax and stop trying to murder people. Am I close?”

Del rubbed his forehead. He looked more tired than Olivia had ever seen him. “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. You two aren’t police officers or trained investigators.”

“But that’s—”

“I’m not insulting you, Livie, I’m stating the facts. You are smart, both of you, and you’ve done some good investigating so far. But I’m the one with the training and the resources, not to mention experience.”

“And a gun,” Maddie said.

“Which I prefer not to use, but yes. I do agree with your list of suspects, although I doubt Tammy Deacons would know how to tamper with your brakes. Still, she might be involved, as you’ve pointed out. Arguably, Hugh, Edward, and Tammy all have motives, so two or all three of them could be working together.” Del ran his fingers through his hair. “I want you to cancel the memorial for Clarisse, Livie. It’ll only make both of you vulnerable to another attack.”

Olivia and Maddie exchanged quick glances but said nothing.

“Listen, Livie, whoever tampered with your car isn’t going to give up. You are in real danger. So are you, Maddie, and maybe your families, too.”

“I gave Aunt Sadie an early birthday gift,” Maddie said. “A spa getaway in DC. She accused me of wanting the house to myself, but she left anyway, this morning. Won’t be back until Wednesday.”

Del sank back in his chair. “Have you two listened to a word I’ve said?”

“You’ve expressed your concerns quite clearly,” Olivia said, “and we aren’t ignoring you. We see the situation differently, that’s all. We need you, but you also need us. Okay, go ahead and roll your eyes, but at least hear me out.”

Del made a show of checking his watch.

Olivia reached for the bag of Clarisse’s cookie cutters and emptied them onto the table. “These are why I went to the Chamberlain house in the first place. Somehow, my attacker knew I was there, although Bertha swore up and down she didn’t say a word. My guess is she acted nervous or asked a question that made our suspect or suspects suspicious. Anyway, what matters is that these little babies survived intact. We have three suspects for Clarisse’s murder, a cold murder case, two attacks, and maybe a missing child. What we don’t have is a clear, quick way to figure out who among the three suspects is responsible for what.”

Del said, “As sheriff, I can interview—”

“You can investigate like crazy,” Olivia said, “but that will take time, probably lots of it, and even then you might not succeed. Maddie can’t keep sending her aunt out of town, and I don’t want to hire a bodyguard for who knows how long. Maddie and I have devised a plan that might flush out the guilty party, or parties, much faster.”

“How many painkillers have you consumed?”

“Just ibuprofen. Listen, cookie cutters had meaning for Clarisse. She used them to help her work out problems. I didn’t figure this out until last night—early this morning, really. I was trying to identify the cutters in the photo of her desk—”

“Which I ordered you to delete, as I recall.”

“And I remembered Bertha telling me that Clarisse would talk things out with the portrait of her husband, the one that hangs over her office fireplace. Then it hit me. Sometimes when Clarisse picked out cookie cutters at our store, she’d make an offhand remark, like . . .” Olivia picked up the running gingerbread man cutter. “When I sold her this one only a few weeks ago, she said, ‘Run, run as fast as you can.’ That’s a quote from the old Gingerbread Man fairy tale, so I didn’t think anything of it at the time.” Olivia picked up the Dancing Snoopy. “She bought this one the last time I saw her. It’s such a joyful cutter, but I thought Clarisse was going to cry when she looked at it. I remember wondering why she bought it if it made her feel so sad.”

Del had stopped interrupting. Olivia glanced up to find him studying the cookie cutters. He picked up the baby carriage. “So you’re thinking these might represent people in her life?”

Olivia nodded. “People, events, I haven’t had time to figure them all out. Maddie and I plan to arrange the cookies in different designs that will look random to anyone who isn’t involved. But we’re hoping to tease a guilty reaction out of those involved in Clarisse’s death.”

“In other words, it’s one big, potentially dangerous experiment? I can’t let you do this, either of you.” Del dropped the baby carriage cutter on the table and stood up. “I forbid you to try this stunt.” He grabbed his jacket and hat and strode toward the alley door.

“It’s our store and our risk,” Olivia said. “We aren’t asking for permission. Or for protection. We’ll hold the memorial as planned, whether or not you take part. It’s up to you.”

Del’s shoulders dropped. “Livie Greyson, you are the most stubborn woman on the planet.” He turned to face her. “You know perfectly well I’ll be here. If something happened to you—or Maddie—I’d never forgive myself.”

“Thanks for the afterthought,” Maddie said.

Del waved the papers Olivia had given him. “I have work to do. Tomorrow we will discuss how to keep you two from getting yourselves killed.” He slapped his hat on his head and opened the alley door. “Meanwhile, Cody will check on the store as often as he can. If you hear anything suspicious outside or inside, don’t explore on your own. Call my cell. I’ll keep it with me. If for some reason I don’t answer, call 911. Got it?”

“Got it,” said Olivia.

“Yes sir,” said Maddie.

“And lock this door behind me.”

As Maddie locked the door, Olivia said, “Okay then, to work. We need to cut and bake the cookies tonight so they will be cool enough to decorate tomorrow after closing. I’ll dig out the additional cutters we’ll need.”

“Hold it,” Maddie said with authority. “You will not be digging or cutting or baking anything, not tonight.”

“Stop fussing.”

“I do not fuss. I command. Go upstairs, and take that noisy creature with you.” Maddie pointed to Spunky, curled in a snoring ball on his blanket. “Then take a warm bath, eat something, and relax with a good book. Having completed those tasks, fall into bed and sleep as long as you can. Frankly, Livie, I’ve never seen you look so awful.”

“Thanks ever so much.” She had to admit she felt exhausted, not to mention sore and stiff. “However, you are right, my friend.”

“I am?”

“I need all my strength to get through the next couple days, and my reserves are depleted. Promise me, though—if you need me for anything, even if you’re having trouble finding those extra cookie cutters, give me a ring.”

“I know the location of everything in this store,” Maddie said. “Do not set your alarm and do sleep all day. Here’s your cuddle toy,” Maddie said. She lifted a sleepy Spunky, blanket and all, and slid the bundle into Olivia’s arms. “Now go away.”

For some reason, Olivia’s alarm had switched from a gentle beep-beep to a high-pitched whine. Also, her body was being used as a punching bag. She slogged through the quicksand of sleep until she could identify Spunky as both whiner and assailant. He was expressing his displeasure at being cooped up too long. Given her soreness after her recent accident, Spunky’s five pounds felt like five hundred. She lifted him off and rolled onto her side. “Remind me why I thought adopting a puppy was such a good idea?”