One Dead Cookie (14 page)

With a sage nod, Maddie said, “Now see, that’s a setup for disaster.”

Olivia heard a squawking noise close to her ear. “Oops. Sorry, Del. Heavy negotiations
going on here. Yes, dinner now, Pete’s Diner. See you in five.” Olivia hung up, and
said, “Okay, you win. I could use some help creating cookie recipes with lavender-lemon
and rosewater-lemon.” Olivia grinned at Maddie. “Me, businesswoman; you, cookie genius.”

“There,” Maddie said. “Don’t you feel better? Now scram and let me concentrate.” She
reinserted her earbuds and squirted a tiny pink flower on a wedding-cake cookie.

*   *   *

A
s Olivia entered Pete’s Diner, she felt calmer than she had in days. She spotted Del
at a table by the front window. In place of his uniform, he wore dark brown slacks
and a crisp tan shirt. His uniform hat usually left a dent in his light brown hair,
but now it hung straight over his eyes as he scanned the menu. He must have showered
before meeting her. When Del looked up and saw her, his face lit with pleasure. Olivia
was finding it harder and harder to remember that he could be downright irritating
at times. “Hi there,” she said. “Catch any bad guys lately?”

“Well, I did stop a fellow driving a Lexus erratically through the north end of town.
He kept drifting into the oncoming lane.”

“Drugs?” Olivia asked. “Or was he drunk?”

“Texting.” Del handed a ketchup-stained menu to Olivia.

“Young people these days,” Olivia said, shaking her head.

“He was thirty-six. Oh, and the car was a rental. Good-looking guy, a bit arrogant,
said something about needing to reassure his fans that he’d be back, whatever that
means.”

“You’re teasing me, right?” Olivia’s menu dropped onto the table. “You did not stop
Trevor Lane for texting.”

“I did.” Del grinned at her. “I don’t understand what women see in him. He struck
me as kind of a self-obsessed jerk.”

“Don’t look at me, he isn’t my type. Though he is handsome and famous, and he probably
knows people who know people. Lots of women go for that.” Olivia paused before adding,
“Not me, of course.”

Ida appeared at their table and plunked down two plastic tumblers of merlot. Her unruly
gray hair was pinned back in a tight bun and free of her usual hairnet, so she wasn’t
on cook duty. “Real cops drink beer,” Ida said. “I can give you a deal on the meatloaf
and mashed potatoes, two for one. A certain cook, not me, made too much of the stuff.
All I gotta do is slap it on a couple plates. How about three for the price of one?
You could take some home for breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds good to me.” Olivia loved Pete’s meatloaf, especially for breakfast.

“Done.” Del handed the menus to Ida, who heaved a weary sigh and shuffled off to deliver
the order.

“So I hear you had an exciting afternoon,” Del said.

Olivia sipped her merlot. Despite the presentation, the wine was excellent. “Exciting
isn’t the word I’d choose. Exhausting, frustrating, expensive…yet interesting. Del,
when did you stop Trevor Lane?”

“About half an hour ago.”

“And was he alone in the car?”

“Yes. Why?

Ida plunked down three plates filled to capacity with hunks of meatloaf and piles
of mashed potatoes. Olivia estimated each plate held about four portions.

“Pete said to get rid of the stuff before it gets old,” Ida said. “All for the price
of one. He fired the cook, so don’t go expecting anything like this again.”

When Ida was out of earshot, Olivia said, “Trevor has a sort of bodyguard/handler/writer/companion
named Dougie Adair traveling with him. Lots of muscles. I got the impression it was
part of his job to keep Trevor out of trouble. I don’t suppose you got a look at who
he was texting?”

“Well, Livie, there’s this little thing called a subpoena. I didn’t really have any
reason to ask for one. I explained to Mr. Lane that in Maryland it’s illegal to text
and drive, but I let him off with a warning, since he was from out of state. He was
suitably contrite, and I let him go. I watched him drive off in an impressively straight
line at an appropriate speed.” Del took a generous bite of meatloaf and washed it
down with merlot.

“How disappointingly lenient of you,” Olivia said. “I’d love to know who Trevor was
texting.”

“Why?” Del used his spoon to capture a large hunk of mashed potatoes, poured sauce
on top, and shoveled the mixture into his mouth.

“Show-off.” With exaggerated delicacy, Olivia ate a small bite of her meatloaf. “Did
you know you’ve got tomato sauce dribbling down your chin?”

Del grunted and swiped his chin with his napkin. “Thanks. About your interest in Trevor
Lane’s texting behavior, is it just prurient curiosity, or are you suspicious of him
for some reason?”

“I’m not sure I’d call it suspicion, but…Del, does it strike you as odd that Trevor
Lane—well-known star of stage, screen, and daytime drama—suddenly decided to visit
little Chatterley Heights, Maryland, bringing along his entourage of one? Yes, I know
they both grew up in Twiterton, so why not stay somewhere there? Why stay out at Chatterley
Paws with an aging, unsuccessful actress and two people they don’t know, not to mention
a baby, plus animals everywhere? They haven’t seen Lenora in years. From what I’ve
observed, they barely tolerate her. Let’s face it, Lenora is one of us, we love her,
but she’s a bit, well…”

“Bizarre?” Del pushed his plate aside and drained his tumbler of wine.

“Irritating,” Olivia said. “Maybe I’m building a case out of imagined connections.
Or a cake out of cookies, which is what I’m supposed to be doing right now.” Olivia
glanced up at Pete’s bird-call clock. “The Cooper’s hawk is about to strike seven.”

As Olivia finished her merlot, Ida appeared at their table and nodded at the empty
tumbler. “You want another one of those?” When Olivia declined, Ida said, “We got
cherry pie for dessert. Want any?”

“Too full, but thanks.”

“Pete said it’s on the house for you two. I’ll make ’em to go, along with this stuff.”
Ida picked up the leftover meatloaf and left.

“Have I mentioned how much I love dating a cop?” Olivia asked. “I get free food.”

“I thought it was the free coffee you loved, but you’re welcome.”

“Tell me honestly, Del, has past experience made me too suspicious? About Trevor and
Dougie, I mean.”

Del shrugged. “Livie, I’m trained to be suspicious, only we like to think of it as
keeping our eyes open. On the other hand, it wouldn’t hurt to look into Trevor’s and
Dougie’s backgrounds a bit, especially since their arrival comes close on the heels
of a break-in at Lady Chatterley’s and the attack on a bank manager.”

“Good idea. Unless there’s something I should know about, I’ll understand if you don’t
share what you find.”
Maddie can probably dig up the same information, anyway.

Del’s cell phone rang. He checked the caller ID and answered at once. “Maddie? You
okay?” As he listened, Del’s expression relaxed. “Yeah, she can be forgetful, but
she’s got her good qualities. Hang on.” As he handed his cell to Olivia, Del said,
“Apparently you are once again not responding to your cell, or it’s dead, or you are
still mad about having to go to chapel or something.”

Olivia groaned and took the phone. “Maddie, I am not now, nor have I recently been,
mad at you. I left my cell to recharge at my apartment. What’s up?”

“Jennifer is back.”

“And what does Jennifer have to say for herself?” Olivia glanced at Del, who looked
puzzled and interested.

“You’re going to be mad at me,” Maddie said.

“Maddie, please, what’s going on?”

“Jennifer is really, truly upset. I know this sounds like the kind of excuse a kid
would give a teacher—you know, like the dog ate my homework, or I didn’t finish my
paper because my grandmother died, sniffle, sniffle.”

“Jennifer’s grandmother died? Maddie, don’t make me work so hard.”

“Okay, Jennifer told me her aunt suddenly got sick and called her from someplace in
DC, where she lives…lived. Anyway, that’s why Jennifer ran off so fast this morning.
She couldn’t convince her aunt to call her doctor. Then Jennifer got to worrying and
tried to call her aunt back but got no answer, so she just took off in a panic.”

“Jennifer didn’t think to call a neighbor or even the police?” Olivia asked. Del’s
eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t interrupt.

“Panic is like that, I guess,” Maddie said. “Jennifer said she found her aunt weak
and feeling awful, so she took her to the emergency room. They were concerned enough
to admit her to the hospital for observation. Jennifer drove right back here and came
to work. She said everyone was busy then, so she figured she’d explain when things
got quieter. Then she got a call from the hospital that her aunt was going downhill
fast, so she took off again.”

“So did her aunt rally?” Olivia asked.

“Well, no. She died. Jennifer was really broken up about it. She said this aunt was
her last living relative and practically raised her. I guess I felt a lot of sympathy
because of Aunt Sadie. I’d have been an orphan at ten if Aunt Sadie hadn’t taken me
in when my mom and dad died.”

“Maddie, you know I understand. Why did you think I’d be mad at you?”

“Well, I told Jennifer she could keep her job.”

“I’m fine with that,” Olivia said. “We have no evidence Jennifer has been lying to
us. Not yet, anyway. I’ll be back soon, but first that poor pooch of mine needs attention.
All he’s gotten today are a couple quick visits to the backyard and extra guilt-induced
treats. I’ll take him on a quick run, and then we can start baking up a storm.”

“Great!” Maddie sounded more like her hyper-enthusiastic self again. “Although I’ve
already gotten a head start on the baking. You know me, can’t keep my hands away from
cookie dough.”

“I do have a favor to ask, if you need a break soon.” Olivia sneaked a glance at Del,
who was checking his voice mail and text messages. “Would you use your magic computer
fingers to do a little research for me? I’d really like to know more about our new
employee. And maybe our other newcomers.” Del looked up from his cell phone, gave
Olivia a quick smile, and went back to reading his messages.

“You really do suspect Jennifer is lying, don’t you?” Maddie’s curiosity had reasserted
itself.

“I think things aren’t adding up, that’s all. It’s probably not a big deal. I mean,
it’s not as if there’s been a murder.”

Olivia heard Spunky whine as she slid the key into the lock of her apartment door.
She prepared herself to intercept a five-pound missile. Spunky burst through the opening
and right into Olivia’s arms.

“Gotcha!” Holding tight to the squirming Yorkie, Olivia pushed into her apartment
and closed the door with her backside. “I’m getting good at this, aren’t I, Spunks?”

Spunky wriggled as Olivia made sure the front door was latched. When she released
him, he raced toward the kitchen. Olivia arrived to find him stationed next to his
empty food bowl. He tilted his little head and whimpered. The long silky hair on his
head fell to one side, revealing sad, starving eyes.

“Oh, you’re good,” Olivia said. “I know this is how you survived on the streets of
Baltimore, but remember, I’m on to you. I gave you a big bowl of food this morning
plus extra treats.”

Spunky whimpered again with increased pathos. He sank to the floor as if he were too
weak to sit upright any longer. Against her will, Olivia felt herself melt. After
all, the little guy had missed his daily run, and he’d stayed alone in the apartment
all day instead of enjoying his usual time in the store, lapping up attention.

Olivia caved in and opened Spunky’s bag of dry food. “I realize this is a precedent-setting
mistake,” she said, “for which I will pay and pay.” She poured a small pile of kibbles
into Spunky’s bowl, the sight of which gave him the strength to leap to his paws.
“I will live to regret this, won’t I?” Olivia murmured. Spunky ignored her.

While Spunky licked his bowl clean, Olivia changed into her jeans and running shoes.
When she returned to the kitchen and lifted his leash from its hook on the kitchen
wall, Spunky held still barely long enough for her to attach the leash to his collar.
Olivia sprinted behind as Spunky pulled her downstairs with an urgency she understood
and took seriously. They made it outdoors just in time.

“I’m so glad you aren’t a puppy anymore,” Olivia said.

Dusk had given way to darkness, deepened by the cloud-filled sky. Around the town
square, only a few shops, the Chatterley Café and Pete’s Diner, remained open. The
old-fashioned street lamps lining the sidewalks revealed a handful of folks heading
home from work or out to dinner. The park looked dark and empty, the way Spunky liked
it. No screaming children or rowdy teenagers who might step on him or pull his tail.
Spunky yanked on his leash to inform Olivia that he thought a run in the park sounded
like a good idea. Olivia wasn’t so sure. The only light deep within the park came
from one streetlamp that lent a golden glow to the old band shell. Only the rounded
exterior
showed in outline against the dark sky, reminding Olivia of a seashell-shaped cookie
cutter.