One Dead Cookie (22 page)

Olivia poured the last of the coffee into their cups. “What did Trevor Lane do to
Wade all those years ago?”

Stacey poured a dollop of cream into her cup. “Trevor used his acting skills, such
as they were. He and that sidekick of his, Dougie, invited Wade to meet them before
the game for a ‘friendly’ drive in Trevor’s old Cadillac. I think it was a hand-me-down
from Trevor’s father, who’d kept it in really good shape. Wade couldn’t resist the
chance to ride in a car like that. Even back then, he was in love with cars.”

“I’m surprised Wade was willing to go off with those two right before a game,” Olivia
said. “Especially after Trevor’s threat the year before.”

“That’s my Wade,” Stacey said. “Trusting to a fault. That’s actually one of his more
endearing qualities. When Trevor said he wanted to let bygones be bygones, Wade
never questioned. Just like he wasn’t suspicious when Trevor offered him a large bottle
of cola that was already open.”

“Oh no.”

“Yep.” Stacey gave in to temptation and commandeered another cookie, a pale blue dove
with a silver dragée eye. “Too pretty to eat,” she said. “Almost.” Nestling the cookie
on her plate, Stacey said, “Poor, sweet Wade…he didn’t get suspicious even when Trevor
and Dougie drank nothing. The cola was, of course, spiked with pills.”

“And with a game coming up in…”

“In a couple hours,” Stacey said. “They were supposed to be on a dinner break. Coaches
around here weren’t too rigid about knowing where their players were until they were
due to start warming up. It was assumed they were home with their families. After
that night, the rules changed.”

“So I gather Wade was not at his best during the game?” Olivia couldn’t help feeling
sad for the young, naive Wade Harald. Adolescence could be a minefield.

“If by ‘not at his best’ you mean doped up, as well as hyped-up on caffeine, then
you got it right. Wade was kicked out of the game, off the team, and questioned by
the police. He told them what happened, but Trevor and Dougie denied any involvement.
They tested clean for drugs, so the police believed them. It didn’t help Wade’s credibility
that he lost his temper very publicly and vowed to ‘get’ Trevor and Dougie no matter
how long it took.”

“Which would be why Del arrested him for Trevor’s murder?”

Stacey nodded. “He made himself the perfect suspect. Only I don’t believe for a minute
that my Wade has it in him to murder someone, let alone the imagination to create
such a weird scene on your porch. From the rumors I’ve
been hearing, the killer branded Trevor. In my wildest, most bizarre dreams, I can’t
imagine Wade having the forethought to bring a branding iron along to a murder. Unless
that didn’t really happen?”

Olivia grimaced. “I really shouldn’t…”

With a shrug, Stacey said, “Understood. Anyway, I’ve said my piece, and now I’m hungry.
Excuse me while I eat the blue dove of happiness.” She removed the silver dragée eye
and bit an impressive chunk from the dove cookie’s upper body.

Although Stacey sounded like her old no-nonsense self, Olivia noticed the shadows
under her cornflower blue eyes. “Speaking of rumors,” Olivia said, “there’s one going
around that you were laid off from your job at the elementary school.”

Stacey shook her head. “Not yet. There’s talk of layoffs at the school, but I haven’t
heard anything definite. I’ll admit the possibility is wedged somewhere at the back
of my mind. However, knowing our administration, layoffs would be a last resort. We’re
down to the bone as it is.” Stacey swept a few crumbs off the table and onto her empty
plate. A worry wrinkle had formed between her eyebrows, adding years to her lovely
face.

“Just one more question for now, Stacey, and it may have nothing to do with Trevor’s
death. It’s about our new employee at The Gingerbread House, Jennifer Elsworth.”

“I caught a glimpse of her in your shop,” Stacey said. “Didn’t look familiar.”

“It seems Jennifer grew up in Twiterton, left for parts unknown, and now she’s back
in the area.” Olivia measured her words carefully. Stacey might feel desperate to
find another suspect. “Jennifer is working out well at the
store. She is quiet but good with customers. In fact, she sold the red mixer, so—”

“The red mixer? No kidding. ‘Good with customers’ is an understatement.”

“Agreed,” Olivia said with a light laugh. “It’s just that Maddie hired her without
consulting me, and Jennifer didn’t have any references. You see, I like to know the
background of the people we hire.”

Stacey’s teasing grin brightened her eyes. “Oh, I see, all right. Maddie hired Jennifer
without telling you, she’s terrific, so you’re looking for something wrong with her.
Besides, I heard that silly rumor Binnie’s been spreading about Del and Jennifer.
It isn’t true, right?”

A firm denial popped into Olivia’s mind, but she squelched it. Maybe it was best to
leave some doubt about why Olivia wanted information about Jennifer rather than peg
her as a possible killer. Not that Stacey was the type to spread unsubstantiated rumors,
but these were not ordinary circumstances. “I meant to call you about Jennifer,” Olivia
said, “but I haven’t had time. Jason met her once, years ago. He said she went to
Twiterton High School. Since you’ve worked so many years in school administration,
I thought you might know an easy way to find out a bit about her background. Not her
school records, of course, just a little about her family, that sort of thing.”

Stacey chuckled. “The easiest way I know of is to ask your mother. I’m guessing you’ve
tried that, and she drew a blank?”

“Hard to believe, I know. I was aghast. Mom isn’t perfect. She said Twiterton residents
were wealthier and didn’t mix much with the likes of Chatterley Heights folks. Maddie
looked for Twiterton yearbooks online and only found the last three years.”

“I’m not surprised,” Stacey said. “Chatterley Heights High has managed to put two
past yearbooks online, and that was with volunteer help. There’s no money to spare.
With kids from well-to-do families attending private schools, even schools in wealthier
areas are struggling to stay open. The office manager at Twiterton High happens to
be a friend of mine. I’ll call her and see what I can dig up for you.”

“That’s great, thanks.”

“It’s the least I can do.” Stacey yawned and stretched.

Olivia gathered their plates and carried them to the kitchen sink. Before closing
the box of cookies, she asked, “Sure you don’t want another? Cookies have been known
to induce a sweet and restful sleep.”

“Or a tummy ache,” Stacey said. “Don’t fret; if I wake up in desperate need of a cookie,
I know where to find them.”

As Stacey headed toward the guest room, Olivia knocked on Allan’s closed office door.
Ellie opened the door a crack. “Oh good, it’s you,” she said as she poked her head
into the hallway. She glanced up and down the corridor. “Is Stacey in her room?”

Olivia nodded. “Although given the number of cookies she ate, she will probably reappear
to brush her teeth. I should take off for home soon. Sorry we took so long. You can
ignore my request for cookies, Mom. I think Maddie has been baking.”

“Not a chance,” Ellie said. “Rachel and Tyler finished their homework in record time,
so they have an hour to bake before bed. We were just waiting for you and Stacey to
finish in the kitchen. I won’t ask how your conversation went.”

“Thanks,” Olivia said. “I assume Spunky is still napping next to the computer?”

Ellie pulled Olivia into the office and closed the door behind her. “There’s something
you need to see first.” She pointed toward the computer screen, which Allan was reading.

Olivia took one look at the text and said, “Oh no, not Binnie’s blog again. Can’t
we just ignore her?” Spunky’s eyes popped open in response to his mistress’s irritated
tone. Once he determined Olivia wasn’t angry with him, he resumed napping.

“It is wise to keep informed, dear,” Ellie said. “Though it isn’t always pleasant.
Once all this is over, I’ll need to double up on my yoga classes.”

“It’s darned nasty,” Allan said. “You’d better read this for yourself, Livie.”

With a sense of foreboding, Olivia settled in front of the screen and read the first
few lines of Binnie Sloan’s blog about Wade Harald’s arrest on suspicion of murder.
Although, predictably, Binnie had left out the suspicion part and jumped directly
to a murder charge. “We know all this, don’t we?”

“Keep reading, dear,” Ellie said. “Think of it as an exercise in creating emotional
distance.”

Olivia began again at the beginning of the blog post.

“Okay, those were snarky cracks about Del, Maddie, and Lucas, but otherwise this piece
is fairly low key…for Binnie.”

“Keep reading, Livie,” Ellie said.

Olivia scrolled to the next page, a photo of Olivia and Maddie chatting with Trevor
and Dougie in the band shell. Howie Upton was a shadowy figure partly hidden by Dougie,
who had turned his back on Howie. “This must have been one of the photos Ned Sloan
took Wednesday evening. Only yesterday…”

“And only hours before Trevor’s murder,” Allan said.

“I think Livie knows that, dear.” There was a hint of sternness in Ellie’s voice.

“It’s okay, Mom. Allan is right; this doesn’t look so good. You can see Maddie and
me laughing. It’s almost as if we know these men better than we let on.”

“Which is quite ridiculous,” Ellie said.

“Whoa. Down, girl.” Allan wrapped his arm around his wife’s slender shoulders. “No
one takes Binnie’s innuendoes seriously.”

The next page contained the remainder of Binnie’s blog.

“Wow,” Olivia said. “You’ve got to admit—Binnie is cunning. She even managed to get
in a dig at Del. It should be entertaining to read the responses to her post.”

“You seem to be taking this quite calmly,” Allan said in a hopeful tone.

“If I took Binnie too seriously, I’d have had a stroke by now.” Olivia closed down
the offensive blog. “Or I’d be in jail for murder.”

By the time Olivia and Spunky arrived home, it was nearly eleven p.m. Allan had insisted
on driving them. When he saw the unlit porch, he walked them to the door and waited
to hear the click of the lock. As Allan had explained to Olivia, he believed Wade
Harald was innocent of Trevor Lane’s murder, mostly because it seemed to involve more
planning than Wade could muster. So it logically followed that the true murderer was
still out there, possibly roaming the streets of Chatterley Heights.

As always, her stepfather’s logic was unassailable, so Olivia hadn’t argued with him.
Besides, a ride would get her, plus one pooped pup, back home more quickly. As she
unlocked the door to The Gingerbread House, she composed a mental list containing
only one item: finish the cookies for Maddie and Lucas’s party, even if it took till
dawn.

A sliver of light under the kitchen door told her that Maddie was still working.
Good.
Between the two of them,
maybe they could finish the cookies in record time. Olivia had promised Stacey she
would do what she could to clear Wade of murder, and she intended to try.