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Authors: Virginia Lowell

Dead Men Don't Eat Cookies (29 page)

BOOK: Dead Men Don't Eat Cookies
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“Yes, but most disgruntled wives don’t express themselves through cookie cutters,” Olivia said. “Think about it. Those four Chatterley women, from different generations, turned to cutters to handle rejection, neglect, betrayal by their husbands . . . which makes me wonder if Abigail Chatterley’s oddly shaped cutter had a special meaning. Her embroidery work was so flowing and beautiful. Why would she draw a geometric design and go to the trouble of having a cookie cutter made in that very shape? And I find it even more intriguing that all five of those cutters were found with Horace Chatterley’s remains. I wonder why.”

“We wondered the same thing, Livie.” Del took a small notebook from his pants pocket and leafed through it. “The placement of those cutters, when we found them, indicated they might have been arranged on top of Horace’s body after he was placed inside the closet.”

Olivia jumped up and began pacing the parlor. “Del, I never asked . . . Why didn’t I catch sight of Horace’s bones when we were trying to see Kenny’s cookie cutter necklace? Kenny and Crystal did.”

“Because the bones had been covered by a cloth of some sort,” Del said, “possibly by Kenny. The material was coated with dust, but not enough to date it from the 1930s. Remember, that closet had been in use when Horace died. He had stored shoes, clothing, even some books in there. We figured Horace’s killer shoved him toward the back of the closet, covered him, and left the other items scattered around him. Kenny found him, but he wouldn’t have been eager to let anyone else in on the secret.”

“Yet you said the cutters had been arranged on top of
Horace’s body?” Olivia ran her hand through her hair, frustrated by her confused thoughts.

“That’s right.” Del checked another page in his notebook. “Okay, here it is. Forensics indicated remnants of a tarp among the bones. So the cutters were arranged on the body, and the tarp was then spread on top. The cloth was added later.”

“So, that might mean . . .” Olivia sank onto the settee and stared into the dying fire. Spunky reclaimed her lap.

“What?” Maddie demanded. “Livie, I’m dying here. What does all this mean?”

Olivia shook her head. “We’d never be able to prove it.”

Del touched Olivia’s arm. “Livie, are you thinking that Horace’s wife or children might have killed him, then for some reason buried him with those cookie cutters.”

Olivia shook her head. “No, Horace had already squandered the family fortune. His wife and children knew he was living in squalor, and his eldest son was already taking care of them. What would they gain from murdering him?”

“Then who?” Del reached over the arm of the settee to take Olivia’s hand. “What are you thinking, Livie?”

“I can’t be sure.” Olivia stroked the soft hair on Spunky’s head. She saw Aunt Sadie pull a length of yarn from a skein and smile as her hands resumed their rhythmic knit and purl. A little
ding
sounded in Olivia’s head. “I’m thinking Aunt Sadie didn’t have you and Lucas cart that box of journals down from the attic merely so we would empathize with those unhappy Chatterley wives.”

All eyes focused on Aunt Sadie, whose innocent expression blossomed into a grin. “I hoped you would feel empathy, of course,” she said. “But after all these years and generations of anguished Chatterley wives, is it truly necessary to assign guilt?”

“It’s just human curiosity,” Maddie said. “Livie is right. We can’t prove anything now.”

“Exactly.” Aunt Sadie resumed her knitting.

“Lucas will be here soon to take Aunt Sadie and me home.” Maddie nestled the journals into the trunk, while Del stirred the ashes of the dying fire to cool it more quickly.

Olivia found herself wondering about Imogene Jones. Unlike her husband, Imogene had a colorful history. She’d demonstrated a ruthless streak. Driven by her zeal for social reform, she had reputedly been a mistress to several wealthy, powerful men. They had been willing, in exchange for Imogene’s favors, to finance her schemes to help the downtrodden. Olivia wanted to believe that Imogene’s marriage to Henry had been a love match. After all, Henry saved his mother and siblings from abject poverty, which would have impressed Imogene. Henry also provided substantial funding for Imogene’s reform projects. But what if Henry had wanted to help his own father? What if Horace, lacking his son’s compassion but willing to use it to his own advantage, had begged more and more money from Henry? Wouldn’t Imogene have been angry the old reprobate was draining the family coffers? Might she have been furious enough to—

“Livie?” Del touched her arm. “What are you thinking?”

Olivia started, even though he had spoken softly. “Sorry, Del, I was following a convoluted and wildly speculative train of thought. Probably not important.” She stared at the cooling logs and smiled to herself.

When the doorbell rang, Maddie hopped up to open the front door for Lucas. While he and Maddie wrapped a heavy shawl around Aunt Sadie’s shoulders, Del took Olivia’s hand and entwined his fingers with hers. “We should sit by a fire to discuss long-ago murders more often.”

“I agree.” Olivia gave Del a quick kiss on the tip of his nose. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Olivia grinned. “Thank you for not being a Chatterley son . . . and for being you.”

Recipe

Pete’s Meatloaf

1½ pounds lean ground beef (or lean ground turkey)

2 large eggs, beaten

2 tablespoons dried (or 3 tablespoons fresh) rosemary, finely chopped

freshly ground pepper, to taste

1-2 dashes Worcestershire sauce

½ cup dry oatmeal

1 tablespoon olive oil, divided

5 large shallots, finely chopped

¼ cup bell pepper (any color), finely chopped

1 small clove garlic, finely chopped

1 cup chili sauce (Heck, I use the whole bottle. Pete)

⅓ cup petite diced tomatoes, well drained

2-3 tablespoons brown sugar (to taste)

1-2 tablespoons Dijon mustard (to taste)

¼ teaspoon horseradish (if desired)

Preheat oven to 350°F. In a large bowl, mix together beef or turkey, eggs, rosemary, pepper, Worcestershire sauce, and oatmeal.

Heat the olive oil in a frying pan. Add the shallots and sauté lightly. Add to the turkey mixture. Add more olive oil to the frying pan, if necessary, and lightly sauté the chopped bell pepper and garlic until softened but not browned. Add to turkey mixture.

In a small mixing bowl, combine chili sauce, diced tomatoes, brown sugar, horseradish, and Dijon mustard. Mix well.

Pat the turkey mixture into large loaf pan or casserole. Spread topping evenly over meatloaf. Bake for one hour or until
done.

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BOOK: Dead Men Don't Eat Cookies
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