When the Cookie Crumbles Page 19

  The front parlor’s heavy curtains also blocked the moonlight, leaving the room in complete darkness. Olivia switched on her flashlight, and Maddie did the same. “Whoa,” Maddie said in a hushed voice. “This is not how I remember the front parlor from our visit with Hermione.”

  “Look over there, along the wall,” Olivia said. “That long, heavy bureau has been moved away from the wall. There’s no carpet under it. I think that’s what we heard from downstairs, the bureau being scraped across bare wood.” She switched on an etched-glass table lamp. Warm light circled out, illuminating a section of wall that the long bureau had hidden. “Well, well,” Olivia said. “What have we here?”

  Maddie whistled softly. “It looks like some kind of safe built into the wall, and the door is open.” She shone her light on the small enclosure. “It’s made of wood.” Maddie examined the open door. “This isn’t a safe,” she said, “just a plain door with a ring pull so it doesn’t stick out too far from the wall. It looks old. I know this bureau goes back to the 1800s, and Lucas decided not to bother painting the wall behind it. I bet a Chatterley had the opening created and put the heavy bureau in front to hide it.” Maddie shone her light deep inside the compartment. “If this is where the cutter collection was secreted, it isn’t here now.”

  “That space could hold a few cutters, but not many,” Olivia said. “The opening is fairly short and goes back a ways, almost like a letter slot. Maybe this is where important papers were kept. What we don’t know is whether it has been empty for decades or was emptied in the last half hour.”

  Maddie ran her hand over the newly refinished wood floor, now freshly scraped in a semicircle. “This is definitely what we heard from downstairs shortly before the intruder took off. I’ll bet you a six-quart Pro Line stand mixer with all the attachments that he found something really important and took it with him.”

  “Or her,” Olivia said. “Hermione Chatterley might not be able to move this bureau, but a younger, healthier woman could.”

  As she turned off the lamp, Maddie asked, “If we knew what was hidden—assuming it was still here—do you think we would know who killed Paine Chatterley?”

  “I think we’d be a lot closer to knowing,” Olivia said.

  At four thirty a.m., Olivia unlocked the front door of her apartment, and Spunky shot past her. He stopped suddenly about halfway down the stairs.

  Olivia called to him, “Spunks? It’s just me.” Whimpering, Spunky ran back up the stairs and into the apartment. Olivia followed, locking up behind her, while Spunky raced around the apartment like a pup possessed. Olivia had never seen him so frantic. She had left him alone in the apartment before, but never so late. Maybe her absence had made him feel trapped again, like he was back in the puppy mill.

  When Spunky trotted back into the living room, Olivia sat on the sofa and held out her arms to him. He hesitated for only a second before leaping onto her lap and snuggling close. Olivia realized he hadn’t felt trapped; he thought she had abandoned him.

  “You funny little creature, I wouldn’t abandon you for all the cookie cutters in the world,” Olivia murmured, rubbing her cheek against the silky hair on his head. She noticed that Spunky was starting to need a bath. It was a smell she was growing to love as much as the aroma of lemon sugar cookies fresh out of the oven. Well, almost as much.

  With Spunky relaxing in the crook of one arm, Olivia headed for her bedroom. The little guy had worn himself out; he barely opened his eyes when she nestled him at the foot of her bed. She dropped her clothes on the floor, pulled on a long T-shirt, and crawled under the covers. Leaning on her pillow, she checked her cell messages. She found one, from Rosemarie York, who said, “Livie, I know it’s late, but I wanted to catch you before you tried to talk to Del. It’s okay, he let Matthew out of jail about half an hour ago. The poor boy is home with me and really tired, so I sent him to bed. The sheriff said he hadn’t found any sign of a gun, at least so far.” Olivia heard Rosemarie’s voice deepen with anger. “I think Hermione was confused by firecrackers some kids were setting off, so she was expecting to see a gun. I don’t think that woman is right in the head. Anyway, thank you, Livie, for saying you’d talk to Del about Matthew, but now you don’t have to. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

  Olivia checked the time of the call. One a.m. She’d turned her cell off by then. If Matthew Fabrizio was free by one a.m., he was back on the Chatterley Mansion intruder suspect list. For that matter, so was Rosemarie York. She’d sounded angry with Hermione. Moreover, Rosemarie was passionate about antique cookie cutters. She could easily have copied Matthew’s key to the mansion so she could search for the famed collection.

  According to Olivia’s cell phone, it was four forty-five. Her mother would tell her to hit the off button and get some sleep. Her mother was nearly always right. Olivia set the alarm for eight a.m. and plugged in the charger. Since the store would be closed all day Sunday, she’d have plenty of time to take a shower before she and Maddie had to set up their Gingerbread House booth in the town square park.

  Olivia slid farther down between her covers, already imagining herself wandering through a field of decorated sugar-cookie flowers waving gently in the breeze. She found a baby pink daisy with rose sprinkles, balanced on a red licorice stem. As she bent to pick it, Olivia heard a harsh scraping sound behind her. Her eyes shot open, and her heart thumped. Someone must have broken into her apartment. She raised up on one elbow to listen and saw that Spunky hadn’t so much as twitched. If someone were in her apartment, her faithful protector, all five pounds of him, would have raced out to subdue the intruder. In a half-dreaming state, she’d remembered the sound of the bureau scraping across the parlor floor, that’s all.

  Olivia lay back against her pillow but couldn’t relax. She knew what was wrong. She felt guilty. She had to tell Del about the intruder in Chatterley Mansion. It hadn’t occurred to Olivia that her little adventure with Maddie would encounter so many complications. It wouldn’t be easy to make Del see the innocence behind their ill-fated search for the fabled Chatterley cookie cutters. Well, she might as well get it over with. She reached to her bedside table for her cell and punched in her speed-dial number for the Chatterley Heights Police Station. After one ring, she snapped her cell shut. What was she thinking? It was barely past five a.m., an odd time to return from a lighthearted cookie-cutter hunt in someone else’s locked home. She would wait until morning to call Del. A few hours’ sleep and she’d know what to say. All would be well. She put her phone back on the table, pulled the covers up to her chin, and returned to her field of sugar-cookie flowers.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Yanked from a deep sleep, Olivia bolted upright in bed as Julie Andrews belted out, “The hills are alive with the sound of music.” Spunky leaped to his little paws and let loose a volley of yaps. When Ms. Andrews repeated her musical observation, Olivia identified the source as her cell phone. Still half asleep, she reached toward her bedside table and fumbled for the light switch. As her phone sang again, Olivia flipped it open and yelled, “I get it, I get it!”

  “Olivia? What’s happened? I’m coming right over.” It was Del, sounding worried.

  “Oh, Del, I’m sorry, it’s just that you woke me out of a sound sleep. Is something wrong?”

  “You tell me,” Del said.

  “I’m not the one calling at”—she checked the backup alarm clock she kept by her bed—“six thirty. As in morning.”

  “Livie, you called me.” Del was miffed.

  Then she remembered. She’d dialed the police station and let the phone ring once before changing her mind. “Are you at work already?”

  “It’s fete day,” Del said, “and the peace in Chatterley Heights hasn’t been very good about keeping itself lately. So why did you call me?”

  “I’m sorry, Del, I didn’t want to call your cell in case you were asleep, and it didn’t occur to me at the time that the station phone would have caller ID.”

  “A police stati
on without caller ID? You’re kidding, right?”

  “Did I mention I was very tired?”

  “Livie, I’ll have you know the Chatterley Heights Police Station has the finest secondhand equipment money once bought.”

  Olivia was relieved to hear a touch of humor replace Del’s irritability. He’d need it. She took a deep breath and filled him in on some of what happened in the Chatterley Mansion only a few hours earlier. She left Maddie out of it.

  “Let me get this straight,” Del said after Olivia finished her summary. “You’re claiming it was merely a childlike flight of fancy that sent you to the mansion. It occurred to you that a Victorian house might contain secret hiding places, and you wanted a look while Hermione was…otherwise engaged.”

  Okay, maybe Olivia had left out a few details. “When you put it like that, it sounds a bit cold and crazy.”

  “A bit.”

  “Del, I’ve been working so hard for so long to help get this celebration weekend off the ground. Karen orders me around, the store is really busy.… I haven’t had much fun for quite a while. I just wanted to enjoy a cookie-cutter adventure. If that makes sense.” Olivia heard Del chuckle and hoped that was a good sign.

  “From you, it makes sense,” Del said. “Only here’s the thing: you heard a prowler in the mansion—other than yourself, that is—and you didn’t call me or Cody as soon as possible. Why?”

  Olivia was ready for that question, and she didn’t even have to lie. Much. “I’d turned my cell off, and it plays that irritating little jingle when I turn it on. So I needed to wait until the intruder left, but that took quite awhile, and then I wanted to get safely home first, but by the time I got home it was really late, and the intruder was long gone anyway, and I was so tired I simply fell asleep.” Could I have sounded more frantic…and guilty? Olivia was grateful Del couldn’t see her cringe.

  “Uh-huh,” Del said. “Haven’t you left out a few details?”

  “Details?”

  “Yeah, like about Maddie being there with you. And that you two managed to break open a hidden door in the wall of the root cellar, a door that led to a pile of dirt? Oh, and after the prowler left, you and Maddie discovered the front parlor ransacked, a large bureau pushed away from the wall, and a small wall enclosure left open and empty? Those little details.”

  Uh-oh. “Maddie told you, didn’t she?” It hadn’t occurred to Olivia that Maddie would confess to Del, especially so quickly. It wasn’t like her. She’d never been a tattletale.

  “To be precise,” Del said, “Lucas told me. Maddie was with him, and she looked miserable, as well she should. I think she was desperate to call and warn you, but Lucas insisted they come to the station instantly.”

  “How forceful of him,” Olivia muttered.

  “What was that?”

  “I said, ‘How ethical of him.’ I guess you can scratch Lucas off the list of suspects for Paine’s murder.”

  “So, did you find anything when you searched Hermione’s bedroom?” Del’s voice sounded a shade too casual.

  “What did Maddie tell you?”

  “I asked first.”

  “Okay, Del, you win. We found a couple passports in what I assume were false names; some stuff Hermione filched from local businesses; a bunch of photos in an envelope, stuffed in a coat pocket; and a pair of shoes with heels that opened up, but there was nothing in them. Oh yeah, and under the staircase, we found what looked like a cookbook from way back, maybe as far as the American Revolution. I didn’t recognize anyone in the photos except Paine and Hermione, when they were younger and happier. There was one photo of an unnamed baby, so Maddie and I wondered if they’d lost a child. That can do strange things to a relationship. I couldn’t tell from the photo whether it was a boy or a girl.”

  “Maddie didn’t mention the cookbook,” Del said, “so you get a point for that.”

  “Del…are we all right? I’m sorry we searched Chatterley Mansion without permission, but really, it was helpful, too. We found a number of things I’ll bet the police missed. And I still feel the mansion belongs to all of us. We kept it going and fixed it up, so…”

  “I should arrest you.”

  When Del went silent, Olivia asked, “Are you sighing? I hate it when you sigh, but I’m hoping it means you don’t plan to arrest me. Or are you?”

  “I can’t. If I arrested you, I’d have to arrest Maddie. Then there’d be no serving wenches at the fete this afternoon.”

  * * *

  Olivia was savoring a cup of coffee at the store’s front window, watching booths go up in the park, when she heard someone fumbling with the lock in the front door. Spunky leaped off her lap, yapping fiercely. After last night’s experience hiding in the Chatterley Mansion’s root cellar with Maddie, Olivia couldn’t help but be jumpy; her pulse took off at a trot.

  “Livie, are you in there? Could you give me a hand here?” It was Maddie’s voice.

  “Coming,” Olivia called out. When she opened the front door, Maddie stumbled into the store, laden with stuffed canvas bags. “I thought we were only selling cookies at our booth,” Olivia said. “What’s all this? Decorations?”

  “And costumes, my friend.” Maddie dropped the bags on the floor. “No fete is complete without the perfect costumes. No, Spunky, get out of there.” Maddie reached into the bag and produced a wriggling Yorkie, entangled in a white blouse with a gathered neckline. “You take this creature,” Maddie said, handing Spunky to Olivia. “Check this out.” Maddie held up the blouse by two spaghetti straps to demonstrate what it would look like. Low cut was what it looked like to Olivia. Puffy elbow-length sleeves were designed to hang off the shoulders, leaving them bare. “This is part one of my serving wench costume. And here is part two.” From the same bag, Maddie retrieved a long skirt, gathered at the waist. “I made this myself. I used silk essence, which flows nicely and gathers without adding bulk to the hips. Our curves are fine as is.”

  “Our curves?”

  “I made this skirt in emerald green because—” Maddie flashed the emerald promise-to-think-about-it, almost-engagement ring Lucas had given her. “Also it emphasizes my eyes.”

  “I doubt anyone will be looking at your eyes,” Olivia said.

  “And the pièce de…de…”

  “Pièce de résistance,” Olivia said. “Which makes me worry.”

  “Ta-da!” Maddie slipped an earthy green top over her head. It laced across the rib cage and was held up by a curved fabric strap that went up each side and wound around the neck. “This is worn over the blouse.”

  “Is that what I think it is?” Olivia asked.

  “Sort of,” Maddie said. “It isn’t a real bustier, of course. They’re expensive to buy and take too long to make correctly. If I’d had more time, though, it would have been fun to try.”

  “So this is just for show? It won’t actually make you spill out of your rather skimpy blouse? Not that you wouldn’t look great, but with the cooler weather, you might catch cold. I’m only thinking of your health.”

  Maddie grinned as she delved into another bag. “And this, my friend, is your costume.” She shook out a second gathered skirt in deep teal blue.

  Teal was Olivia’s favorite color. However…“There’s only one serving wench lined up for the fete, and she is you. I intend to dress as Livie Greyson in a sweater, linen pants, and comfortable shoes.”

  “See, I knew you’d blow off Karen’s decree that everyone wear a costume, which is why I made you one. And it isn’t a serving wench costume.”

  “What is it, then?”

  Maddie dug through her bag and emerged with a white blouse that looked suspiciously familiar. “You will be dressed as a tavern wench. There is a difference.” Maddie produced a pseudo bustier exactly like hers only in a rich gray with teal laces. “Livie, you will look stunning in this, I promise you. The teal and gray will bring out your eyes. Del will melt. Please wear it.”

  “Well, maybe I could throw a sweater around my sho
ulders.” Olivia had to admit the colors were perfect, and since the bustier wasn’t real…

  “Excellent! Oh, here’s one more item for our costumes.” Maddie handed Olivia a small, tissue-wrapped package.

  Olivia had that sinking feeling she’d gotten when her ex-husband, Ryan, began oh-so-casually to recount conversations with a fellow medical student named Joanie. She opened the tissue paper. “A push-up bra?”

  Maddie gave her a look of feigned surprise. “Of course. I told you I didn’t have time to make real bustiers, but we can get the same effect with a push-up bra. Come on, let’s get dressed. This is going to be so much fun.” Maddie gathered up her bags and costume and headed toward the kitchen.

  It was Olivia’s turn to sigh, and she did so with gusto. “I have a bad feeling about this. I’ll probably freeze to death.” To herself, though, Olivia admitted she wouldn’t mind if Del saw her in costume. Maybe he’d be distracted enough to forget about that unauthorized visit she and Maddie made to Chatterley Mansion.

  While Maddie unpacked her bags in the kitchen, Olivia took Spunky for a quick trip outside. Normally, he could stay in the store while Olivia was out, but she was afraid the revelry in the park might upset him. After Spunky had finished his business, Olivia took him up to her apartment for a relatively quiet day. He could watch the festivities in the park from his favorite perch, a small Queen Anne desk under the living room window. As she filled his bowl with a generous portion of kibbles, Olivia said, “You stay up here and protect the house, Spunks. Mommy is about to transform herself into something she’d rather you didn’t see.”

  Once they had wriggled into their costumes, Maddie removed the mirror from the little bathroom in The Gingerbread House kitchen, so they could both get a look at themselves.

  Olivia grimaced at her reflection. “Are you sure this isn’t a Victorian streetwalker costume?”

  “Tavern wench,” Maddie said. “Trust me. I did a costume search on the Internet.”