Dead Men Don't Eat Cookies (7 page)

Struts grinned. “Dolly is persuasive. However, I’d rather not leave him on his own all day.”

“Fond as I am of my baby brother, I second your concern.” Olivia touched Dolly’s shoulder to get her attention. “Struts mentioned that you wanted to ask me something?”

“Oh, sorry, I’m just so entranced by your store. Yes, it has to do with cookie cutters.” Dolly’s eyes strayed toward a nearby display of cutters in classic shapes, such as stars, hearts, and circles. She picked up a heart shape. “I’ve made some cookie cutters, you know. I love working with metal. Jason is teaching me more about fixing cars. He’s such a skilled—”

Struts cleared her throat.

“I’m getting to the point, Struts,” Dolly said cheerfully. “This is just a bit of background for Livie.” Dolly gently placed the heart cutter on the edge of the sales counter. A customer picked it up and walked off with it. “When I first tried to make cutters,” Dolly said, “I worked with aluminum. It’s cheaper. I didn’t feel so bad about messing up. As I became more skilled, I moved on to copper, which really is much more elegant, don’t you think, Livie?” Without pausing for an answer, Dolly said. “When I felt confident enough, I got hold of some thin silver and made a few cutters that people actually wanted to buy, so I kept doing that for a while. I got a bit bored—you know, just doing one thing—so I branched out and tried other ideas, like little fondant cutters.” Dolly’s voice grew increasingly animated. “That gave
me the idea of making charms shaped like tiny cookie cutters. I figured those little things would take less silver, plus I could charge more for them because they were jewelry. It’s not that I’m mercenary, you understand, only I needed more—okay, Struts, stop glowering at me. I’m getting to my point, I really am.”

“Just for the record,” Struts said, “I do not glower.”

Dolly ran her fingers through her hair, which only made the curls more perfect. “You see, I heard a rumor . . . Well, Ida mentioned that a silver necklace with a cookie cutter heart was found with those bones everyone is talking about.

Olivia tried not to roll her eyes. “Of course she did.”
I must learn never to discuss confidential information when Ida is anywhere nearby.

“Well,” Dolly said, “one of the pieces I sold was a silver necklace with a cookie cutter heart. You know, the kind that looks like it has an arrow going through it? A young girl bought it. So I’m wondering, could that girl have been the daughter of the murdered man you found?”

“Now that’s a very interesting question,” Olivia said. “Although I didn’t actually find the remains myself.” Olivia found herself hoping that her brother wouldn’t let this one get away. Although why Dolly would be interested in Jason . . . aside from their mutual affection for handling metal, that is.
Focus, Livie.
“How many years ago did you sell the necklace to this girl? Any chance you could describe her? I’ll certainly understand if you can’t.”

“It was about eight years ago,” Dolly said. “Not long before I moved away from this area. However, as it happens, I have an excellent memory for faces. I find faces fascinating, don’t you? They reveal so much, especially when they’re trying not to reveal anything, you know?”

“I do.” Olivia scanned the sales floor, which had emptied considerably. Maddie and Ellie could handle the few remaining customers. “Dolly,” Olivia said, “I want to hear everything you remember about the girl who bought the cookie cutter
necklace. In fact, let’s go into the kitchen. We can have coffee and cookies while we talk.”

“Oh, how lovely.” Dolly levitated up on her toes with joy. “I’ve always wanted to see the baking equipment in a professional kitchen.”

Somehow that did not surprise Olivia.

“You two have fun,” Struts said. “I think I’ll head back to the garage to see if Jason has left it still standing.” She turned to leave. On her way to the kitchen, Olivia glanced back to see her mother intercept the tall, muscular figure striding across the sales floor. Struts had to bend over to hear what Olivia’s four-foot-eleven-inch mother had to say. Maddie stood nearby, chatting with a customer. Olivia caught Maddie’s eye from across the sales floor and gestured to indicate she would be in the kitchen. Maddie answered with a quick nod.

Olivia ushered Dolly into the Gingerbread House kitchen and closed the door behind them. “I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee,” she said. “I could use a jolt. We’re not used to a crowd of customers so early on a Tuesday morning.”

While Olivia fired up Mr. Coffee, Dolly explored the kitchen with childlike awe. She opened cabinet doors, peeked inside the oven, and examined the well-used cookie cutters drying on a clean towel. “I notice the cutters are all drying with their cutting edges down,” Dolly said. “Is that to let water drain from the hem so the metal won’t rust?”

“I’m impressed. You are the first visitor to this kitchen who has noticed that detail,” Olivia said. “You’re very observant.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. It’s just that I’m so interested in metals. I love their different sheens and how malleable they can be. Working with metal is such a pleasure.” Dolly rubbed her hands together as if she were imagining the smoothness of silver. “All metals have their sensitivities, though. Sort of like people, don’t you think?” When Olivia hesitated, Dolly laughed. “Oh, I’m being silly. Don’t pay any attention to me.”

“I don’t think you’re being silly,” Olivia said. “I’ve been told that I think of cookie cutters as little people with individual personalities. There’s some truth to that observation, although I’m fairly certain no one has meant it as a compliment. When I hold an antique or vintage cutter, I can’t help but wonder about the people who used it.” Olivia picked up a cutter shaped like a gingerbread girl. “I use this little cutter all the time, and so does Maddie. It makes us think of being little girls. This one belonged to my own mother, who handed it on to me when I turned sixteen.”

“Oh.” A sudden tear ran down Dolly’s cheek. She wiped it away, and said, “Now I really am being silly, but I can’t help it. You see, my mother died a month ago. That’s why I came back here . . . to be with her. I was planning to go back to DC afterward, but you know how it is. There was a lot of stuff to sort through, and I began to . . . well, to meet people.”

Ah, Olivia thought.
Meet people . . . like, for instance, Jason?

“Like Jason,” Dolly said. “He’s such a sweet guy. You’re so lucky to have him for a brother.”

Jason? The one who calls me Olive Oyl in public?
“I try to tell myself that same thing,” Olivia said.
Okay, that was lame.

“I really enjoy working on cars with Jason,” Dolly said with a wistful smile. “He is so good with metal, and with engines, and just about anything. And he’s easy to talk to. The only problem is . . . well, I don’t think Jason likes me as more than a friend.”

That’s because Jason is dense and also an idiot.
“It hasn’t been that long since my brother broke up with his girlfriend,” Olivia said. “They were high school sweethearts. Things didn’t end well, so he’s taking his time. My advice, for what it’s worth, is that you simply go on with the metalworking and car repair thing for a while. Let Jason get to know you.”

Dolly’s lovely face lit up. “Oh, I’m so glad to hear that. I will!”

Olivia took clean cups and two small plates from the
dishwasher. She put a cookie on each plate, half-filled the cups with coffee, and delivered everything to the table. “Help yourself to cream and sugar.” Olivia pointed toward the kitchen counter. While Dolly added both to her cup, Olivia said, “You mentioned earlier that it was a young girl who bought your silver heart necklace?”

“Oh, yes, she looked like she was in her early teens. I can describe her for you.” Dolly sat beside Olivia at the kitchen worktable. “In fact, I could draw her for you, if you have some paper and a pencil.”

“Even better.” Olivia scrounged through the drawer of the little desk where she usually sat while she reconciled the day’s receipts. She found a blue pen and an old sheet of notepaper that was wrinkled but unused. “This is all I could come up with on short notice.” Olivia delivered the items to the kitchen table. “We do so much on the computer these days.”

“I know it’s old-fashioned,” Dolly said, “but I love to write and draw by hand. I guess I’m an artist at heart.” She drew an oval on the paper and began filling in two eyes. “Jason is very artistic, too, don’t you think?”

“Uh, well . . .” Olivia noticed that Dolly kept her fingernails short, which made her seem less inhumanly perfect.

Dolly centered a pert little nose on the emerging face, then shaded in cheekbones. “I watch Jason as he works on that wonderful 1957 Ford Fairlane he’s been restoring. He wants every detail to be perfect.”

Olivia didn’t respond, hoping Dolly would be too absorbed in her drawing to notice her silence. Artistic was about the last word that came to Olivia’s mind when she thought about how to describe Jason. Obsessive, maybe . . . especially about that vintage car Struts had bought for a song and given to him to restore. Not that Olivia didn’t love her brother . . . she certainly did, although often in a barely tolerant sisterly sort of way. Occasionally, Jason surprised her and behaved as if he might become a mature adult. It didn’t last long.

Dolly’s quick, sure strokes began to form a recognizable
face. Even though the drawing presented a younger girl with shorter hair, the features belonged to Alicia Vayle. “Her hair was wavy and sort of reddish brown, and her eyes were light brown,” Dolly said. “Does that help?”

“Wow,” Olivia said. “You’ve got an amazing visual memory. Yes, this helps a lot. Did this girl talk to you at all?”

Dolly wrinkled her nose, a fetching version of a grimace. “I’m not so good at remembering words. When I was in school, I forgot most of what I read as soon as I finished reading it. Sometimes I drew little pictures in the margins to help myself remember the important stuff for tests.”

“I remember Jason doing the same thing,” Olivia said.

“I know,” Dolly said. “That’s one of the reasons I liked him right away. We have so much in common. I really admire how much Jason knows about cars and metal working, plus we both had trouble in school until we learned to do things our own way. Also, he’s really cute.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Olivia said, trying not to sound sarcastic. In fact, she truly was glad that Dolly was smitten with her brother. She sincerely hoped Jason wasn’t too dense to recognize a promising relationship.

Dolly gazed at her own drawing with a troubled expression. “So this really is the girl whose father was murdered?”

“Possibly.” Olivia sipped her coffee as she considered how much information to reveal. “But we don’t really know much yet. The police will have to establish whether it was murder or if someone simply died of natural causes.” Rumors were inevitable, but Olivia saw no reason to encourage them.

“I understand.” Dolly took a generous bite of her purple-scalloped sugar cookie. “I won’t say anything to anyone. Rumors get started so easily.”

The kitchen door cracked open and Maddie poked her head inside. “Livie, we’ve got a problem. Your mom is handling it pretty well, only . . .” Maddie glanced back at the store. “I’d feel better if you came out here. Ellie is strong, but she’s so tiny.”

Olivia scraped back her chair and jogged through the doorway, leaving Dolly to finish her coffee and cookie alone. “Is Mom in danger?” Olivia asked as she followed Maddie past the sales counter.

“Don’t panic,” Maddie said. “No sign of fisticuffs yet, and even if there were, I’d put my money on Ellie. That guy looks like he’d be easy to topple.”

“Topple? What man?” Olivia scouted the sales floor. At first she saw nothing out of the ordinary. A few customers stood near the locked cabinet that held the more valuable vintage and antique cookie cutters. They appeared to be discussing the contents in a reasonably calm way. Olivia’s peripheral vision took in Spunky’s favorite chair, from which he received admirers and policed the store. A fluffy pile of fur opened one eye but didn’t move.

Maddie nodded toward the entrance to the cookbook nook. “That’s where they are. It sounds awfully quiet, though. Maybe Ellie convinced him to leave. Or maybe she decked him. That would be so cool.”

Olivia took off at a moderate pace, hoping not to spook the customers. She was ready to throw a punch, if necessary. However, when they reached the entrance to the cookbook nook, Olivia hesitated. Ellie occupied one of the two roomy armchairs nestled in a corner for customers who wished to peruse a cookbook or enjoy a chat over coffee and a cookie. Her legs curled under her elfin body as she gazed serenely at a large man occupying the second armchair. The man shot to his feet when Olivia and Maddie entered the cookbook nook.

“Livie, dear, do come in,” Ellie said, as if the cookbook nook were her parlor and Olivia an unexpected visitor. “Mr. Quinn, let me introduce my daughter, Livie, and her friend and business partner, Maddie. Oh, Maddie, would you mind getting Mr. Quinn a cup of coffee and perhaps a cookie? I’m afraid I never gave him a chance to get near the refreshments table.”

“Um, okay.” Maddie flashed Olivia a confused glance as she exited the nook.

Robbie Quinn held out a powerful hand for Olivia to shake. She steeled herself, anticipating crushed fingers, but his handshake felt loose, almost perfunctory. “Everyone calls me Robbie,” he said, his voice a shade too hearty.

Olivia shifted from concern to curiosity. If this man was Crystal Quinn’s husband, he was not what she had expected. Well over six feet tall, Robbie would tower over his slender, petite wife. He wore oil-stained jeans, heavy work boots, and a sweatshirt with “Quinn Construction” written across the chest. Robbie pushed up his sleeves, revealing elaborate tattoos on both forearms. Olivia recognized a snake slithering along the top of his right arm, but the other shapes intertwined in a complex, confusing pattern.

Olivia declined Robbie’s offer of his chair. “I should get back to my customers soon,” she said, “but I’d be interested in knowing why you decided to drop in on us.”

Robbie nodded but showed no inclination to retake his seat until Ellie said, “Livie, dear, Bertha is on duty now. She and Maddie can handle the customers for a while. Come sit with me. There’s plenty of room.” Once Olivia had settled on the soft, wide arm of her mother’s chair, Robbie sat down again.