Dead Men Don't Eat Cookies (19 page)

“Don’t be silly, dear,” Ellie said. “Exercising keeps me warm.” She raised her hands in the air and crossed the sales floor by way of three perfect cartwheels, landing a few feet away from Olivia. “Such fun. I haven’t turned cartwheels since I was a young girl. I searched online and found some excellent directions. Of course, I’d much rather attend a class, but that will have to wait until we get the arts and crafts school up and running. I do hope we can get back to work soon.”

“Hasn’t Del given you permission yet?” Olivia asked. “All he has to do is secure the room where the bones are.”

“You’re a bit behind on the news, dear.” Ellie gave her daughter a solicitous pat on the arm. “You really need to communicate more with Del. It would enhance your relationship. As we speak, Del and a team of forensic types are packing up the entire contents of that ill-fated wall. They wanted the place to themselves. They should be finished shortly. Del asked me to tell you that he might be a few minutes late for your date at Pete’s, but lunch is on him.”

“Good,” Olivia said. “I’ll order a couple appetizers while I wait for him.”

“That’s fine, dear, but do remember to increase your exercise to compensate for the extra calories.” Ellie twirled around,
her hands swirling gracefully above her head. “Now, I have some shopping to do,” she said. “Alicia wants to bake cookies for the workers. I suspect she’d prefer to stay in the kitchen for now. She is still in some shock. You and Maddie have the most wonderful supply of colored sugars and other delightful decorations. I thought it would be fun and distracting for Alicia to have more to work with than icing alone.”

Olivia scanned the sales floor. A few customers had wandered in, but Bertha and Maddie were taking care of them. “Okay, Mom, I’ll tag along while you select the decorating add-ons. I have a few questions, and I suspect you’re the only one in Chatterley Heights who might have all the answers.”

“Of course, dear. Meet me over by the sugars.” With an ease and flexibility that Olivia found irritating, Ellie executed two cartwheels and landed like a feather within reach of the decorating sugars.

Olivia sighed audibly and joined her mother. While Ellie held a jar of lavender sanding sugar up to the light, Olivia quietly asked, “Mom, have you heard anything about a feud between Sam Parnell and Binnie?”

Ellie’s hazel eyes widened. “I have indeed. I’m surprised it hasn’t reached more ears already, though I’m certain it will in no time.” She picked up a jar of multicolored nonpareils, shook it briefly, and put it back on the shelf.

“What, Mom? What hasn’t reached more ears?”

“Hm? Oh, just the usual thing, dear. They are so very alike, after all.” Ellie smiled as she shook a jar of sapphire blue sugar.

“Are you talking about Binnie and Sam? Mom, are you saying those two are having a lover’s spat? Because that’s so—”

Ellie threw back her head and laughed, drawing smiles from all corners of the sales floor. “Oh, Livie, you do have your father’s delightfully ironic sense of humor.” Several of the long ribbons in her hair began to slip. “Oh dear, I need to secure these ribbons,” Ellie said. “Let’s adjourn to the cookbook nook, shall we?”

Once they had settled on the large armchairs in the relative privacy of the cookbook nook, Ellie rolled onto her knees and began to disentangle the ribbons from her long, gray waves. “When I said that Binnie and Sam are so alike,” she said from behind a curtain of hair, “I merely meant that they have a similar, shall we say, interactive style.”

“They both irritate people?”

“Blunt,” Ellie murmured, “yet precise.” Her hairdo repaired, Ellie tossed back her mane and settled cross-legged in her chair. “Much better,” she said. “Now, about Sam and Binnie . . . I suppose it was inevitable. They are both terrible gossips, of course, though quite different in their techniques. Sam is more honorable, in an odd way. At least he digs for gossip before he resorts to making it up.”

“Ah,” Olivia said, “and Binnie skips right to making it up. That would explain why I find Sam marginally easier to tolerate, though I wouldn’t want to find myself locked inside a vault with either one of them.”

“What a dreadful thought.” Ellie hugged her knees to her chest. “Don’t forget that Sam has access to the mail, and he doesn’t balk at sneaking a peek. In this instance, he allegedly steamed open a letter to Binnie from her niece, Nedra. I do have trouble calling her Ned.”

Olivia’s interest piqued at once. “I thought Ned was taking another photography course in DC. Is something else going on? Has she run away from home . . . I hope?”

“No, nothing like that, Livie. Not yet, anyway. Apparently, she has met a young man, also a photographer, and things are getting serious.”

“You’re kidding. I’ve never heard Ned utter a word. How do they communicate? No, don’t answer that.”

Ellie giggled like a teenager. “Oh, Livie, there is someone for everyone. The problem is Ned wants to stay in DC permanently. Well, you can imagine how Binnie must feel.”

“Must I?” Olivia leaned back in her leather chair. “All right,
Binnie must be feeling sad. She loves that mute, skinny kid like a daughter. So I’m gathering that Sam steamed open Ned’s letter and is spreading the news around Chatterley Heights simply to torture and humiliate Binnie?”

“Exactly,” Ellie said. “He has been broadcasting Binnie’s misery. Her blog has hurt a number of Chatterley Heights folks, so you can imagine how gleefully the news has spread. Binnie hit back hard, of course. Normally, I wouldn’t concern myself with such a cruel and rather silly feud, but its talons are reaching through town. I’m worried . . .” Ellie began to braid a segment of her beribboned hair, a sign of anxiety.

“Worried?” Olivia prodded.

Ellie shook loose her braided hair and began again. “I’m worried about Alicia.”

“
Alicia
? How on earth did she get involved in this? She’s just a kid.”

“She is nineteen, dear. And she is vulnerable because of her family situation. She is so determined to find out what happened to her father, which could lead her into danger. As I’m sure you’ve gathered, Alicia was quite attached to her father.” Ellie’s braiding picked up speed. “Perhaps she knows more about his disappearance than she realizes.”

“That is a possibility,” Olivia said, remembering how she, as a teenager, had picked up subtle clues about her father’s illness before she was told he was dying. “And how, exactly, does Binnie’s misery relate to Alicia’s situation?”

“I wasn’t referring only to Binnie, dear. It’s true that Binnie is intrigued by those bones in the wall. She has her nose to the ground, following any scent she can find. I realize that sounds overdramatic, but in this instance, it is apt. She is trying every trick she can think of to draw out leads. Those dreadful photos . . .”

Olivia nearly hopped out of her chair. “The ones she took of Lenora? Have you seen them, too?”

“Yes, dear, I’m afraid so. They came to our computer, which
Allan uses for work. There was no message attached, although they were sent from Binnie’s email address. We forwarded them to Del, naturally. We’ve heard no more about them.”

Olivia sank into the comforting softness of her armchair. “Maddie and I got them, too. Now I’m wondering if Binnie sent those photos to anyone else. I’m meeting Del at Pete’s for lunch. I’ll ask him.”

“I’ll be interested in what Del has to say.” Ellie checked the time on her cell phone. “My theory is that Binnie hopes a good dose of scandal and mystery will draw Ned back to Chatterley Heights to stay, with or without her new boyfriend. There’s no telling how far Binnie would go to make that happen.” Ellie unfolded from her chair and stretched toward the ceiling. “I should meditate before my yoga class.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Olivia said. “Sit right back down and tell me what you meant when you said Alicia might know more than she realizes.”

Ellie curled into a corner of her chair with her legs tucked underneath, as if she were seeking protection. “It’s something I heard from an old friend of mine. You remember Jane, don’t you? She is my age but much taller. She used to have the most gorgeous long, jet black hair. It’s still lovely, of course, but streaked with gray and cut—”

“About Alicia . . . ?” Olivia prodded.

“I’m merely setting the stage, Livie. Oh dear, I’m beginning to sound like Lenora. Anyway, Jane and I hadn’t gotten together for a while. We both love yoga, so we met at her house for an impromptu session. I’d never visited her lovely new home. She and her husband built it a couple years ago, so everything is fresh and new. She has the perfect floor for yoga and a wonderful new DVD with dozens of yoga—”

“Not to pressure you, Mom, but I do have this store to run.” Olivia tried to keep the sarcasm in her voice to a minimum. She really did want to hear what her mother had to say.

“Of course, dear,” Ellie said. “When Jane and I finished our session, we had some tea and chatted. Naturally, she
wanted to know all about those bones we found in the boarding house wall, and I saw no harm in telling her what I knew. When I mentioned Kenny Vayle as the probable victim, Jane looked troubled.” Ellie captured a lock of her hair and absently braided.

Olivia’s frustration evaporated. “Your friend knew Kenny Vayle?”

Ellie nodded. “She knew the whole family. She had lived next door to them for some time, specifically the years right before and after Kenny’s disappearance. Well, when I asked Jane what disturbed her, she said her husband had suggested they build their new house because their neighborhood had become more dangerous, or so he felt. She agreed. She mentioned one episode in particular that deeply disturbed them. It happened during a birthday party Crystal and Kenny threw for Alicia when she turned fourteen and a half.”

“Wait, Mom . . . the Vayle family celebrated half birthdays?”

“No, Livie. It was sadder than that, believe me. On Alicia’s actual fourteenth birthday, Crystal had ordered Kenny to leave the house. They’d had a screaming match. Jane and her husband, unfortunately, heard it all. Instead of a party, Alicia lost her father. After six months, her parents tried to reconcile. They managed to pull off the party before they split again. That was ongoing life at the Vayle household.”

“How sad,” Olivia said.

“Indeed.”

Olivia peeked out at the sales floor. “No customers. My business is doomed, but at least you can finish your story. What was this incident your friend described?”

“Relax, Livie.” Ellie gave her daughter a consoling pat on the knee. “Businesses go up and down. One light afternoon does not a foreclosure make.”

“That’s so comforting, Mom. I think.”

“Now, back to my story,” Ellie said, with perhaps too much enthusiasm. “Kurt crashed Alicia’s birthday party.
Apparently, the two of them had dated briefly a couple years earlier. Alicia broke it off, or that’s what Jane heard later.”

“Whoa, wait a minute.” Olivia bolted upright in her seat. “Alicia would have been twelve, maybe thirteen, and Kurt was . . . what?”

Ellie nodded emphatically. “You nailed it. Kurt was about nineteen.”

“Ick.”

“Indeed.” Ellie leaned toward Olivia and lowered her voice. “Jane and her husband overheard an argument that took place outside their open bedroom window. It was between Kurt and Kenny. Jane said she’d never heard Kenny so angry. He ordered Kurt to stay away from Alicia, said that she didn’t want to see him ever again. Kenny said he’d kill Kurt if he even approached Alicia. Kurt said
, ‘Don’t count on it, old man. I never go anywhere without my switchblade.
’ Jane heard a metallic sound. Her husband said it was a switchblade opening up. He called the police, but Kurt was gone by the time they arrived.”

Olivia was silent while she processed her mother’s information. Finally, she asked, “Mom, do you have any idea when Kenny disappeared? Was it very long after that evening?”

Ellie relaxed against the soft back of her armchair. “I asked Jane that very question. She didn’t know the precise answer, but she said it was about two, maybe three months later. Jane and her husband were working out in their yard, and Kenny passed their house, acting very excited. He waved to them and said he was heading to a job interview. He never returned.”

Olivia was well behind schedule by the time she headed out to meet Del for lunch at Pete’s. The diner was filled to capacity, and Del had already arrived. He made a show of checking his watch as she passed the front window, where he’d snagged a table.

“Sorry I’m a bit late,” Olivia said as she slid onto her chair.

“No problem,” Del said. “You’ve saved me a bundle on appetizers.”

Olivia shrugged off her jacket and let it fall back on her chair. “I have a good excuse. Mom and I were discussing matters of import, such as Binnie’s recent bad behavior. I’m assuming you got my email?”

Del’s eyes rolled heavenward. “I tell myself that every small town has a Binnie. I had a quick chat with her early this morning. Binnie blamed Sam Parnell for her foul mood, so I had a talk with him as well. I told them both that I’d throw them in the same jail cell for a week if they didn’t stop behaving like spoiled brats.”

“Wow, that was . . . forceful.” Olivia felt a twinge of uneasiness. Del was usually so even tempered. “Aren’t you afraid they might take revenge on you?”

“How? By trashing me in a blog or steaming open my mail?” As Del shook his head in disgust, an errant lock of sandy brown hair fell across his brow. His tone softened as he added, “I do worry they might turn on you, though.”

Olivia shrugged. “I’m used to it. Neither of them has the clout to damage my business, and that’s the only way they could hurt me. Binnie is forever blogging derogatory comments about The Gingerbread House and my humble self, but really, no one pays any attention. So don’t worry about me.”

Del reached across the table, captured Olivia’s hand, and gave it a quick squeeze. “Thank you for tolerating me,” he said softly.

Olivia squeezed his hand in return. “It isn’t all that difficult,” she said with a grin. “My ex-husband, now there was a man who strained my tolerance. I contend that if there were a contest for most irritating small-town character, our Binnie would win hands down.” Olivia picked up one of Pete’s tattered, ketchup-stained menus, even though she always ordered the same meal for lunch or dinner.

“Lucky us.” Del ran his fingers through his hair. “I took a chance and ordered for you,” he said. “I promise I’m not taking you for granted. It’s just that I know what you always order, and I thought it would give us more time to talk.”

Olivia opened her eyes wide. “What if I had my heart set on something entirely different?”

“Did you?” Del asked with the slightest twinge of uncertainty in his voice.

Olivia decided she’d better let him off the hook, given she was about to request information that he probably ought to keep to himself. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said with a smile. “I can never get enough of Pete’s special meatloaf.”

Ida appeared at the table, bearing an extra-large tray crammed with plates. “Hey, you two, stop canoodling and
clear the table so I can dump these serving plates.” She groaned as she plunked the tray down between Olivia and Del. “Pete is trying to kill me,” she said. “I’m too old to be carrying around my own weight in food.” She wandered off, muttering to herself.

Olivia stared at the array of food on the tray. “Del, what on earth made you order all this food?” In addition to their usual meatloaf, potatoes, and salad, the tray held a pitcher of extra sauce, a basket of rolls, two barbecued beef sandwiches, a bowl of potato salad, and half an apple pie.

“I didn’t order it,” Del said. “Except for the two meatloaf meals, that is.”

Ida reappeared at their table with a full pot of coffee. “I’m leaving the pot with you two,” she said. “I can’t keep up with this crowd, so you’ll have to pour your own refills. Don’t know why I keep on working here. Run off my feet all day long, no appreciation . . .”

“Ida, why all this extra food?” Del asked.

Ida rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Pete, that’s why. He’d better hang on to enough money to pay my salary, that’s all I have to say. Giving away free food . . .”

“But why?” Del asked.

An impatient customer waved his menu in Ida’s direction. “Gotta go feed the bears,” she said. “I’ll come back later, when you’ve stuffed down all that free food.” Ida seemed to be in no hurry as she headed toward the insistent customer.

Olivia filled her plate with small servings of everything except dessert. “This is overwhelming,” she said as she picked up her fork. “I can’t figure out where to start.”

Del regarded his own fully crammed plate, and said. “I’m thinking of going around in circles, starting with the tried and true.” He poured an extra dollop of Pete’s special sauce over his serving of meatloaf and took a bite.

Olivia followed his example. As she tasted her meatloaf, she thought about her mother’s attempts to reproduce Pete’s recipe. They’d all been good, especially the last one, but
this . . . She took a second bite, just to be certain. Yup, Pete’s meatloaf was better. She took one more bite and put down her fork to savor the taste experience. Then she moved on to her barbecued beef sandwich.

After a period of tasty silence, Del filled their nearly empty coffee cups and pushed the cream closer to Olivia. “I believe a break is in order,” he said. “Did you remember to bring along that note?”

“Ah, thanks for reminding me.” Olivia reached into a canvas bag she’d slung over her chair. She pulled out a manila envelope and handed it to Del. “I can assure you that my fingerprints will be all over that paper. It was windy last night—or rather, this morning—and I was pretty irritated that someone had shoved a tack into my beautiful and expensively restored front door.”

“Yes, I remember that wind and your worries about the door,” Del said as he opened the envelope. Using a clean napkin, he extracted the sheet of paper and placed it on the envelope to keep it safe from Pete’s meatloaf sauce. “Huh,” Del said. “This is both puzzling and interesting.”

“I figured it was a practical joke,” Olivia said. “I suppose you read Binnie’s blog this morning? Also, Sam stopped by, angling for more information about that note. As you already know, Sam is feuding with Binnie, so I’m guessing he wants to one-up her.” When Del said nothing in response, Olivia said, “You have that intent frown you make when something intrigues you. What do you see in that note?”

“Hmm?” Del glanced up at Olivia. “I’m puzzled, that’s all. I assumed this would look more like a joke, given the odd message, but the handwriting is . . . Well, it looks hurried, almost desperate.” Del took a tiny flashlight from his pocket and shined it on the paper.

“You’re killing me here,” Olivia said. “What do you see? Do you think this note is for real?”

“Possibly.” Del shrugged. “I’ll hand it over to forensics
and maybe a handwriting expert. It looks to me like whoever wrote this was using a hard pencil that needed sharpening. You don’t see many pencils around anymore.” He held the paper so Olivia could see it. “See this?” He pointed toward the small “r” at the end of the note.

Olivia squinted at several marks following the letter. “I see what you mean. If a pencil point is really worn down, I can imagine the wood making marks like that as the writer tries to get enough lead to make a letter.” Olivia settled back in her chair. “I wonder if the writer was in a big hurry for some reason. That might explain why he or she didn’t take the time to find a pencil sharpener or a pen.” She leaned closer to the note. “Maybe the writer intended to add more but couldn’t get the pencil to work.”

“We’ll have to see what the experts come up with.” Del slipped the paper back inside its envelope. “When they have time to look at it, that is. They might not take it too seriously.”

As the lunch crowd began to thin, Ida arrived at their table with a fresh coffeepot, which she placed at Del’s elbow. “I’m on break, so you’re on your own.” Nodding toward the serving plates, Ida said, “Don’t make me tell Pete you didn’t like the food.”

“Not a chance,” Del said. “We intend to savor it for the next several meals, except for the meatloaf, which I suspect we’ll manage to finish off.”

“Oh yeah,” Olivia said. “Not a problem.”

Ida sighed and shook her head. “I’ll bring out some takeout containers after my break. You can box it all up yourselves.”

“So why did Pete give us such a generous meal?” Del asked. “Is he trying to buy off the police for some reason?”

Ida snorted. “Pete can fight his own battles.” She dragged over a chair and sank onto it. “Pete wanted to thank you for coming so quick and arresting that Kurt fellow, the one who took a swing at him. Not that Pete was scared of the little pip-squeak,” Ida said. “Only he was worried he might have
to slug the kid to get rid of him. Mostly, Pete wanted to protect Alicia. I don’t suppose you can keep Kurt in jail for a year or so?”

Del chuckled. “Sorry, no can do. I’ve already had to let him go with a stern warning to stay away from the diner and from Alicia. I made it clear to him that if he ignores my warning, I’ll ask a judge to issue a restraining order. I’m afraid that’s the best I can offer.”

“He won’t pay any attention to you,” Ida said. “That kid is bad news.”

“Do you know him personally?” Olivia asked.

“Oh yeah.” Ida pulled her chair closer to the table and lowered her voice. “My youngest boy, the one who lives in DC, had a run-in with Kurt a few years ago. My son found out his daughter was dating Kurt. She was only fourteen at the time. Kurt was twenty-three.”

“Did your son report this to the police?” Del asked.

“Ha!” Ida shook her head so vigorously that a lock of iron gray hair escaped from her hairnet. “That boy of mine was always a stubborn hothead, just like Kurt, only not as crazy. He threatened to go to the police if Kurt didn’t leave his little girl alone, but what he really wanted was to pound Kurt into the pavement.”

“Did he get that chance?” Del asked.

Ida shook her head. “Nah. Kurt’s a lot braver when he’s hiding behind that computer. Of course, my son is bigger than Kurt and has just as quick a temper.”

Olivia lifted a forkful of meatloaf and hesitated, puzzled. “Ida,” she asked, “do you have any idea what Kurt does for a living? He must have some means of support, but he seems to spend his time writing trashy blogs and posting insulting comments about anyone who crosses him.”

“Never thought about it,” Ida said. “Maybe people pay him to write some of that stuff.” She checked her watch. “Break’s over. Back to the salt mines. You two want anything else?” Her tone suggested they’d better answer in the negative. They
complied. Ida shuffled off, muttering about aching feet and kids who want to put their mothers in nursing homes.

“Is it my imagination,” Olivia asked, “or is Ida even crankier than usual?”

“Everyone is crankier than usual,” Del said. “I’ve had a stream of complaints from Chatterley Heights citizens who want me to shut down Binnie’s blog. Apparently, she is now aiming lies and innuendos at everyone in town. Personally, I can’t bring myself to read the stuff.”

“I’ve been wondering if Binnie has finally lost her last ounce of sanity.” Olivia sipped her coffee and added more cream. “Mom’s current theory is that Binnie is upset because Ned has a serious boyfriend in DC, someone she met in one of her photojournalism classes. She might not return to Chatterley Heights.”

Del’s forkful of meatloaf paused halfway to his mouth. “Is it too much to hope that Binnie might move to DC to be closer to her niece?”

“In your dreams. Binnie would much rather stay here and make the rest of us miserable.”

“At least she has a sense of purpose,” Del said.

Olivia took another bite of meatloaf and closed her eyes to better appreciate the experience. Before she forgot everything except Pete’s meatloaf, she put down her empty fork, and asked, “While we’re on the subject of Binnie’s behavior, did you say anything to her specifically about that empty email with the attached photos? Mom said she got the same email and forwarded that to you, as well. As far as I can tell, Binnie seems to have backed off, at least for now.”

“Well, I made a stab at handling the situation before she sicced me on Sam,” Del said. “We’ll see if it has any effect. I told Binnie that sending those photos amounted to blackmail, and blackmail is illegal. Between you and me, if she simply posted the photos, there wouldn’t be much I could do. I’m assuming Lenora was, indeed, drunk?” When Olivia nodded reluctantly, he said, “Then Lenora put herself at risk of
exposure. The law can’t protect her from herself. However, emailing the photos to you and Ellie could be interpreted as an attempt to coerce both of you into offering her something, like money or information, to keep her from making them public. Although my interpretation might be more convincing if Binnie had included a written demand along with the photos. By saying nothing, she left room to argue that she was merely sharing the photos with you, perhaps to warn you that Lenora has a drinking problem.”

“So do you think Binnie took your warning seriously?” Olivia asked.

Del shrugged. “Time will tell. If I were Herbie and Gwen, I’d try to get Lenora some help for her drinking.”

“I’ll talk to them, but I know they’ve tried,” Olivia said. “Herbie even gave up his wine cellar. Actually, Lenora accomplished that for him by consuming every bottle in it. And still she finds more. I’m amazed she discovered that bottle of sherry behind all the boxes and pans we store on top of our refrigerator.”