One Dead Cookie (24 page)

“I’m rooting for something worse.” Maddie stood up and stretched her arms toward the
ceiling. “Meanwhile, it’s past three a.m. I’m ready to close up shop, and you, my
friend, could use some sleep. You need to be on your toes by six thirty a.m., so you
can wheedle classified information out of Del.”

“Sounds like an excellent plan. I’ll shoot an email to Allan before I head upstairs.
Maybe I can wake up in time to wash my hair, too.”

“I didn’t want to say anything, but…” Maddie jumped aside just in time to avoid being
winged by a wet towel.

*   *   *

O
livia thought fondly of her bed as she closed the kitchen door behind her. She could
navigate her way across the sales floor, thanks to the streetlamp positioned outside
the front window, but why take the chance of tripping over a table leg? As she reached
toward the light switch, her hand froze. She didn’t see Spunky’s furry form curled
up in his chair.

“Spunky?” Olivia whispered. He couldn’t have gone far. “Where are you, Spunks? Time
to wake up so we can go to bed.”

A faint clicking sound brought Olivia’s attention to the front window. Spunky’s nails
needed cutting. He must be hidden behind his chair, looking out the window. “Okay,
what’s so interesting that you can’t even—” A low growl interrupted her. She hurried
to the window and found Spunky standing on his little hind legs, with his front paws
pressed against the glass. “What is it, boy? What do you see?”

Spunky growled again. His head moved slowly as if he were following a moving target.
Olivia stared in the same direction but saw nothing. She suspected Spunky’s keen eyesight
could see movement invisible to her, possibly even in the park. Olivia suddenly felt
exposed. If someone was outside, she might be visible.
Get a grip, Livie. Spunky growls at squirrels.

“Come, my mighty warrior, time for bed. Tomorrow morning, Maddie will take you for
a walk, and you can give that squirrel a piece of your mind.”

Spunky responded with a frustrated whiney growl and transferred his front paws from
the window glass to Olivia’s shins.

“Ouch,” Olivia said as she lifted her pup and cuddled him in her arms. “Tomorrow we
clip those nails, and no complaining this time.” Spunky snuggled against Olivia’s
arm. “My hero,” she whispered. If anyone had been in the park, he or she was gone
now. Yet Olivia hesitated, uneasy. Maybe she should call Del? No, Del was trying to
snag a few hours of sleep before their six thirty a.m. breakfast date. Olivia could
roust him out of bed, of course, but…over a squirrel?

Spunky had drifted to sleep. The feel of his soft little body in her arms was so comforting,
Olivia couldn’t stifle a yawn. If Spunky had seen anything truly threatening in the
park, she told herself, the next county would’ve heard his yapping. Surely it was
safe to go to bed. She silenced that last niggling worry by making a mental note to
mention the incident, if it could be called an incident, during breakfast with Del.

The Chatterley Café opened for breakfast at six a.m. on weekdays, usually to a waiting
crowd of hungry customers. When Olivia arrived at six thirty, the line stretched from
the front door to the street. With a smile and an apologetic explanation, she managed
to slip past a determined cluster of folks guarding the entrance like sentinels. Once
inside, Olivia searched the crammed restaurant for Del. All tables and booths appeared
to be occupied, but she wasn’t worried. Del always managed to secure a booth for them.

A waitress with long blond curls and a loaded tray cocked her head toward the back
of the restaurant. “Sheriff Jenkins is waiting for you, third booth from the end.”
The young waitress was gone before Olivia could thank her.

Olivia saw the corner of a newspaper on the table as she approached, so she knew Del
was facing the rear, as he always preferred. As she’d learned, he liked his privacy.

Olivia poked her head around the booth’s high back said, “Hi, stranger. You look lonely.
Mind if I join you?”

“Sure,” Del said without missing a beat. “I’m waiting for someone, but she’s never
on time.”

“Her loss, my gain,” Olivia said. She had tried to startle Del many times before,
but she had yet to succeed. Sometimes she wondered if he’d been born without a startle
reflex. “Have I mentioned how glad I am to be dating a cop?” Olivia slid into the
seat across from Del, appreciating the feeling of seclusion. “Cops get all the best
tables.”

“And I thought it was my winning smile,” Del said. He leaned across the table to give
her a quick kiss. She wished it had been just a bit longer.

“That, too,” she said.

Del pushed aside his newspaper and reached for Olivia’s hand. “How are you and Maddie
holding up?”

“Oh, you know how it is. The baking is fun but time-consuming, and the party details
are endless, but we’ll make it.”

“Livie, what I meant was…how are you doing after finding a murder victim on your front
porch?”

“Oh.” Against her will, Olivia flashed back to the scene on The Gingerbread House
porch.
Was that really less than two days ago?
“I guess there’s an advantage to being crazy busy,” she said. “We’ve been too distracted
to stay upset.”

“Good,” Del said. “Then I won’t have to worry about you and Maddie getting sucked
into another murder investigation.”

Olivia sensed a warning in Del’s comment and was relieved when rescue appeared in
the shapely form of the young blond waitress. She poured coffee into Del’s cup. “On
the house, of course,” she said with a fetching grin. Olivia got the coffee minus
the smile. The waitress produced a pen and
order pad from her apron pocket. “Our special today is a nice, light omelet with roasted
shallots and chèvre cheese. Comes with whole-wheat toast. What would you like, ma’am?”

Being called “ma’am” by a young thing made Olivia feel like throwing a plate. She
was only in her early thirties, after all. Maybe she should take up kung fu with her
mother. Or run a marathon. “I’ll take the special.”

Del glanced at her with raised eyebrows. “What? No blueberry pancakes and cheesy eggs?”

“At my age, I need to begin thinking about whole grains,” Olivia said.

“At your—” Del took a deep breath. “Nope,” he said quietly, “not going there.”

The waitress ignored Olivia’s comment. “You want your usual, Sheriff? Scrambled eggs
with roasted potatoes?”

“I have no idea what chèvre cheese is, so yes.”

The waitress laughed in a light, flirtatious way, or so it sounded to Olivia. Del
didn’t seem to notice. As the waitress sashayed off, Olivia took a sweet, creamy gulp
of Italian roast and told herself that she wasn’t ready for a permanent relationship,
anyway.

“Our murder made the
Baltimore Sun
,” Del said, sliding the paper toward Olivia.

“Lucky us.” Olivia skimmed the article. “At least the story doesn’t dwell too much
on previous murder cases in Chatterley Heights.”

“That’s in a separate article.” Del flipped several pages and pointed to the top of
page six. “The account does concede that Trevor Lane was a well-known figure, so the
killer might have followed him here.”

“What do you think?”

“I wait to hear what the evidence says.” Del drained his coffee and pushed his empty
cup aside. Blondie the
waitress, as Olivia had begun to think of her, appeared at once to fill his cup. Del
said, “Thanks,” without looking up.

“Trevor graduated from Twiterton High,” Olivia said, “so it’s conceivable his reappearance
here stirred up something from the past. From my brief interaction with him, I’d say
he had a nasty side.”

“Sounds like you’ve been giving this some thought.”

“Well, he was left on my porch,” Olivia said with what she hoped was nonchalance.

“Livie, whoever
killed
Trevor has a nasty streak, too.” Del leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Be
careful. Better yet, don’t get involved. At least not any more than you already are.
It’s only a matter of time before someone figures out that Stacey and her kids have
disappeared to Ellie and Allan’s house.”

“How did you—?” Olivia watched Del’s slow smile and knew she’d been tricked. “You
didn’t know for sure, did you?”

“Nope. It seemed logical, but there were other possibilities. The high school called
me when Rachel and Tyler didn’t show up. I checked with the elementary school and
was told Stacey had left town for a family emergency. I didn’t want to search for
them, obviously, because I might accidentally point the press, or worse, in their
direction. But I’m relieved to know nothing has happened to them, so thanks for that.”

The arrival of breakfast gave Olivia a chance to think. Del dug into his scrambled
eggs. Her omelet smelled delicious, though the cheese looked awfully…white. She tried
a bite. Not bad, in a fluffy sort of way. Roasted shallots could make almost anything
palatable.

Although Olivia trusted Del’s investigative skills and took his warning seriously,
she had no intention of abandoning
Stacey’s family to the fates. On the other hand, it was foolish to keep anything from
him, at least not without a very good reason. “Del, this might be nothing, but…” She
had Del’s immediate attention. “This morning after Maddie and I finished baking—it
was shortly after three a.m., I think—I went into the store to get Spunky so we could
go to bed.” Olivia hesitated, wondering if she’d overreacted to Spunky’s behavior.

“And? Just tell me,” Del said. “I trust your instincts.”

Olivia relaxed. “Thanks,” she said. “That helps. Anyway, Spunky is usually a good
little sleeper, but I found him wide-awake and staring out the front window of the
store. I couldn’t see anything. Spunky can see better in the dark than I can. I wondered
if something or someone might be out there, maybe in the park. Spunky was so intent,
he barely noticed me. Then he growled a couple times. I told myself that he growls
at squirrels….”

“One question,” Del said. “Would the movement of a squirrel out in the park normally
be enough to awaken Spunky from a sound sleep?”

“He does have acute hearing,” Olivia said. “Remember when he heard Buddy howling in
the park in the middle of a stormy night?” Cody Furlow, Del’s deputy, had also adopted
a rescue dog, a huge black lab with a penchant for running away. Buddy and Spunky
had bonded over their shared compulsion to escape confinement.

“That dog can howl like a banshee,” Del said. “As I remember, you said you could hear
Buddy’s howling, too, right?”

“Not at first, but yes. Once I got close to the window, it was hard to miss. And you’re
right, when I’m inside The Gingerbread House, I would never hear a squirrel in the
park. I doubt I’d hear one even with the windows open.
Come to think of it, when Spunky notices a squirrel, it’s only when he is watching
out the window. I think he is seeing it move, rather than hearing it. However, even
if someone was in the park last night, making enough noise to awaken Spunky, it might
not be relevant to Trevor’s murder.”

Del didn’t comment. He rubbed his chin and frowned at nothing in particular. Olivia
had seen this behavior before. Either Del was thinking through a problem, or he needed
a shave. All she could do was wait. With some reluctance, Olivia picked up her whole-wheat
toast. She didn’t mind wheat toast, but this piece looked really…hearty. She took
a small bite. It was sweeter than she’d expected. However, when Del took a deep breath,
Olivia abandoned her toast without regret.

Del leaned across the table and captured Olivia’s hand. She had to shift closer to
the table to hear his voice. “From now on, Livie, if you see or hear anything even
the least bit suspicious, call me at once. Or 911, if you can’t get hold of me. What
I’m about to tell you must not get out. Okay? Don’t even tell Maddie.” Del paused,
waiting for her to respond.

Olivia nodded. “I promise. I know you’ll have good reasons.” It was tough to keep
anything from Maddie, but it probably wouldn’t be for long. In Chatterley Heights,
secrets had a way of leaking out.

“All right, then.” Del’s shoulders relaxed, but he kept his voice low. “Sometime during
the night, someone placed a hammer on the bench inside the band shell. He or she did
this after taking a swing at the outside of the band shell, leaving a neat and very
noticeable hole in the wood near the foundation. There’s paint on the hammerhead that
matches the band shell paint.”

“Is it the murder weapon?”

“Can’t be sure,” Del said. “It’s still going through forensics.” He checked his watch.
“I need to leave in about twenty minutes to meet with the medical examiner. I should
know more after that.”

“Del, I just thought of something you said about the break-in at Lady Chatterley’s.
Wasn’t a hammer used to try to force the safe open? Could the murder weapon be that
same hammer?”

“Until we have evidence to the contrary, we’re assuming it’s a coincidence that hammers
were used for both crimes.”