Del shook his head. “But we did discover something else. “The second skull had what looked to be a bullet hole in it.”
“Wow.” Olivia touched his arm. “Del, do you realize how difficult it will be for me to keep this from Maddie?”
“Nevertheless,” Del said. “If it would help, I could put you in protective custody.”
“It may come to that.”
Chapter Sixteen
Following lunch with Del, Olivia hurried back to The Gingerbread House, distracted by her growing list of questions about the startling information he had revealed to her. The discovery of a second skeleton—with a bullet hole in the skull, no less—intrigued her. Olivia salivated at the thought of those antique cookie cutters the forensic team had uncovered. But she had promised Del to keep that information secret, at least for a while. It wouldn’t be easy. Surely Maddie would notice the sparkle in her eyes. However, a promise was a promise, and Olivia was touched by Del’s willingness, finally, to trust her with inside information about a murder investigation. She wouldn’t break her word, even if she had to glue her mouth shut and communicate through sign language. If only she knew sign language . . .
It was nearly one-thirty p.m. by the time Olivia climbed the steps up to her front porch. Once inside, she paused in the foyer to compose herself before entering The Gingerbread House. Maddie might sense her excitement, so Olivia tried to focus on a depressing topic, like the coming of winter. She envisioned short days, frigid winds, cold and flu viruses . . . but soon her thoughts drifted to holiday baking, colorful decorations, and carols. Well, there was always Del’s offer of protective custody.
Olivia took a deep breath and grabbed the doorknob. It didn’t turn. She stepped back to get a look in the front window and realized the heavy curtain was drawn shut. That curtain should be open. Why would The Gingerbread House be closed up tight at one-thirty on a Wednesday afternoon?
Olivia dug into her jacket pocket for her key. When she unlocked the front door, she found the foyer empty and the Gingerbread House door shut. She turned the knob. It, too, was locked. There was no note on the door. Her heart pounding, she slid her key into the lock, opened the door, and quickly scanned the sales floor. There was no sign of life. Spunky’s chair by the window was empty.
“Spunky?” Olivia’s voice squeaked. She took a deep breath to quell her anxiety. “Spunks, are you there, boy?” The little guy came trotting out of the cookbook nook to greet her as if nothing were wrong. Once she realized Spunky wasn’t upset, Olivia’s heart rate began to drop closer to normal. She scooped the little Yorkie into her arms, and said, “Hey, Spunks, what’s up around here? Are we in an alternate universe? Where is everyone?”
Spunky launched a volley of yaps, which revived Olivia’s apprehension. “Hey, slow down, kiddo. What’s going on here? Where’s Maddie?” Spunky licked her face. She tucked his small, wriggling body under her arm and strode toward the kitchen door. As she reached for the knob, the door opened. Bertha’s plump, worried face peeked out.
“Oh, thank goodness.” Bertha’s face disappeared, and Olivia heard her say, “Livie is finally back. What? Oh, of course.” The door opened wide, and Bertha pulled Olivia into the kitchen. Spunky squirmed eagerly as he entered forbidden territory. “I’m so sorry I didn’t hear you arrive, Livie,” Bertha said. “I guess we were all talking at once.”
Olivia paused to take stock of the scene in the crowded kitchen. Her mother, her legs tucked under her petite body, occupied one of the two kitchen chairs. Ellie’s husband, Allan, stood next to his wife’s chair, a protective hand on her shoulder. The other chair had been pushed back from the table, perhaps when Bertha left to find out why Spunky had been yapping. Maddie sat on the kitchen counter, swinging her legs and leaning against her lanky husband, Lucas Ashford.
Olivia was most surprised by the kitchen’s sixth inhabitant. Polly Franz, the indomitable force behind the Chatterley Heights Homeless Shelter, stood near the sink, a full glass of water in her hand. “Hey, Livie,” Polly said. “I guess you’re wondering why we’re all gathered together in the kitchen. Oh dear, that sounds like a line from a murder mystery—you know, where the sleuth is about to reveal the killer?” Polly’s good-natured face lost its ruddy color. “I didn’t mean . . . I’m sure everything will turn out fine.”
Ellie’s small hand reached back to touch Polly’s arm. “We must all pull together to make certain of that,” she said. “Now that Livie has joined us, perhaps we can make some progress. Livie is quite the planner, aren’t you, dear?”
“What the heck is going on here, Mom?” Olivia handed her pup to Ellie. “Hang on tight,” she said. “I’m not eager to scrub down the kitchen again.”
“Of course, dear. We’ll be fine, won’t we, little one?” Spunky settled on Ellie’s lap, content to observe the babbling humans.
Olivia noticed that Mr. Coffee’s carafe was almost empty. “I need coffee,” she said. “While I make a fresh pot, will someone please explain to me what this is all about? Why is the store closed? And if it’s closed for a good reason, shouldn’t we tape a sign on the door?” Olivia gave Maddie a questioning look.
“I leap up to obey,” Maddie said. “Or rather, I leap down.” She slid off the counter and headed toward the small desk that Olivia kept supplied with paper and pens. “I shall return in a trice,” Maddie said as she headed into the sales area.
“Mom, what’s wrong? It must be serious for Maddie to close the store without warning.” Olivia rinsed out the dregs in Mr. Coffee’s carafe and refilled it with fresh water.
Ellie straightened in her seat and closed her eyes. An instant later, she reopened them, and said, “There, I am about as centered as I can manage at the moment. I called everyone together, Livie, because I’m quite worried about Alicia. She has disappeared.”
“Now, Ellie,” Allan said, “let’s not go overboard here. The truth is, she simply went off without telling us where she was going or when she’d return. She did leave us—”
“Allan, I sense danger.” Ellie’s firm tone silenced her husband. With a good-natured shrug, he yielded the floor.
“Thank you, dear.” Ellie again closed her eyes and took several deep breaths before continuing. “Livie, we’re so sorry to interrupt your working hours, but we do have a dilemma. You see, Allan and I went out for breakfast this morning and then to do some grocery shopping, and when we returned home, Alicia was gone. We checked her room and found some of her clothes missing. A few hangers had fallen on the closet floor, as if she’d been in a hurry. On the kitchen counter, we found this . . .” Ellie pulled a small square of folded paper from the pocket of her size two jeans. “Read it, Livie.”
Maddie slipped back into the kitchen as Olivia unfolded the paper, and read aloud: “Ellie and Allan, thanks so much for helping me, but I need to leave right now. I can’t explain yet, but it’s really important. There’s someone I have to talk to right away. I promise I’ll be back, though I’m not sure when. Don’t worry about me. If this goes well, I’ll have someone to help me. Alicia.” Olivia skimmed through the note again before handing it back to her mother. “Do you have the slightest idea what Alicia is talking about or who this someone might be?”
Ellie exchanged a quick glance with her husband. “I think we might,” she said. “This is where Polly has been so helpful. You see, Allan and I had breakfast this morning at the Chatterley Café, and we ran into Polly. She told us an interesting story. Tell her, Polly.”
“Of course,” Polly said. “You see, the Chatterley Café donates the most delicious food to the shelter, which is so generous and much appreciated by our guests. It’s simply wonderful of them to—”
“I should explain,” Ellie said, “that Polly always brings along a shelter guest or two to help transport the food back to the shelter.”
“They are always volunteers, of course,” Polly said. “I wouldn’t presume to—”
“Certainly not, dear.” Ellie softened her second interruption with a smile. “Yesterday evening, Polly’s volunteer helper was a man named Jack, who’d appeared at the shelter a few hours earlier. He told Polly he had lived in Chatterley Heights some years ago. He was down on his luck but said he wanted to come back to town only because his stepdaughter lives here.”
“I see,” Olivia said. “And you think the stepdaughter might be Alicia, and that Alicia disappeared to be with this man? Did he disappear, too?”
“Well, yes and no,” Polly said. “He was gone this morning, but he’d left his few belongings behind, along with a note asking me to save them for him until he returned from a job interview. He signed the note with only his first name, just like he signed the shelter register. So many of my guests are reluctant to give their last names, and I don’t push.”
“Perhaps Jack actually did have a job interview,” Olivia said. “Maybe he wants to settle down near family. This all might be one big coincidence.”
“Oh my, I suppose that’s true.” Polly began to tear up. “I do get carried away with the sad stories I hear from the poor dears who come to the shelter. My guests have gone through such terrible times. The last few years have been so—”
“Here’s an idea,” Maddie said, a shade too cheerily. “Let’s assume, for now, that your guest might be a ‘person of interest,’ as the cops on television say. That means we should be prepared to question him if and when he returns for his belongings.”
Maddie shot Olivia a look that said This might be important. We don’t have time to dither. Olivia gave her a faint nod of assent, then asked, “Polly, could you describe this man for us?”
“Yes, of course.” Polly’s plump cheeks bunched as she smiled. “Well, Jack is tall, at least six feet, maybe more. Quite thin, too, which so many of my guests are, especially the ones who lost their jobs early in the recession.” Polly blinked rapidly. “But we don’t have time to dwell on such things now,” she said in a soft voice. “Jack looked to be about midforties, although his skin was roughened by being outdoors so much in winter. His hair was mostly gray, with some brown streaks, a bit long but not shaggy. Rather a good-looking man, all things considered. Kind eyes . . . blue, I think. He was very polite and respectful, which is why I chose him to help me with the Chatterley Café food donations. Does that help?”
“Perfect,” Olivia said. “Did you notice what Jack was wearing?”
Polly nodded vigorously, sending a lock of straight gray hair swinging across her cheek. “Worn jeans and a flannel shirt with red and white checks—what I would call working clothes for a man who has worked in construction. I’m so pleased to see that construction is picking up again. Perhaps you are right that Jack had a job interview somewhere. Wouldn’t that be lovely?” Polly’s smile faded. “Except then we’d have no clue where Alicia might have gone off to, would we?”
“Let’s not worry about that right now,” Ellie said. “We have a lead, as the police detectives say, and that’s what counts.”
“Speaking of the police,” Olivia said, “why aren’t we talking to Del about all this?” When no one answered, she added, “I’ll take care of it when we’re finished here. Polly, we packed a box of cookies for you to bring back to the shelter. There are several dozen. It’s our treat. All we ask is that you call Del and us at once if Jack returns, with or without Alicia, or if you hear from either one of them. Don’t ask him about her. Del can do that. We’ll take care of the rest.”
“I will,” Polly said. “Bless you both for the cookies. We do have more children at the shelter than usual. You’d be surprised what a difference it makes when we can offer them delicious treats. They just ooh and ah over your cookies.”
Olivia wasn’t at all surprised. She knew the power of decorated cookies.
“Maybe I ought to reopen the store,” Bertha said. “I’m worried that rumors might start flying. You know what Chatterley Heights is like. If you need me for anything, just poke your head out the kitchen door and holler.” She straightened her dress and fluffed her short hair.
Holding Spunky against her shoulder, Ellie unfurled from her chair with the smooth grace of an awakening flower bud. She handed Spunky to Bertha, and said, “Perhaps you might return this sweet creature to his rightful place out on the sales floor. Customers will be disappointed if he isn’t there to greet them.”
“I do so love your company, little one.” Bertha cuddled Spunky against her ample bosom. “You and I will mind the store together.” Spunky didn’t even whimper when she opened the door and carried him out of the kitchen.
“I noticed your faucet is dripping again.” It was the first time Lucas had spoken, which wasn’t unusual. “Lucky I brought a few tools. I’ll just fix it while I’m here. It won’t take but a minute.” Maddie gave her husband a thank-you kiss on the cheek, which made him smile and blush.
“Shouldn’t we let Crystal know what is going on with her daughter?” Ellie asked. “I would certainly want to be informed if one of my children might have disappeared with a strange man.”
“Let’s hold off for a while,” Olivia said. “Crystal isn’t you, Mom. And Robbie . . . well, I suspect Robbie would say ‘good riddance’ to Alicia. He clearly despised Kenny, and he probably considers Alicia as weak and useless as her father. I’m beginning to wonder if this Jack fellow was Crystal’s second so-called husband. Maybe Robbie didn’t come along until later.”
“Well, um . . .” Lucas Ashford drew his head out from under the faucet he’d been working on. When he turned to face the group, his chiseled features registered concern and a touch of shyness. “About Robbie,” he said. “He’s a regular customer at the hardware store. We supply most of the tools and materials for his construction projects because, well . . .”
“Because Heights Hardware is the best hardware store ever,” Maddie said. “And you know everything there is to know about construction and . . . related stuff.”
Lucas grinned at his bride. “It’s the only hardware store nearby,” he said, “and we’ve been around for generations, so we know lots of suppliers and construction companies.”
“That, too.” Maddie hiked herself up onto the kitchen counter and wrapped an arm around Lucas’s broad shoulders.
With the merest show of pink on his cheekbones, Lucas said, “This might not mean anything, but I witnessed an argument between Robbie and Kenny that happened shortly before Kenny disappeared five years ago. I was delivering a load of lumber to a construction site Robbie was overseeing. Robbie and I were unloading when Kenny showed up. He was red in the face, really angry. Robbie can be hotheaded, too, but this time he held back and tried to keep things under control. Kenny was so mad he didn’t care who heard him. He threatened to kill Robbie if he didn’t stay away from Crystal.”
“I’ll bet Robbie lost it right about then,” Maddie said.
“Nope,” Lucas said. “I expected a fistfight, maybe worse, so I signaled my guys to back away. Robbie was mad, I could see that, but he just stood there and stared at Kenny. Finally, Robbie said, ‘The booze is making you imagine things. Now go away and don’t ever come near me again.’
“Kenny said, ‘Or what? You’ll kill me? If you come near my wife and daughter, I’ll kill you.’ Then Kenny turned around and walked away.” Lucas slumped against the edge of the counter as if reciting his story had worn him to the bone.
Maddie gave her husband a quick squeeze around his shoulders. “You remembered that really precisely, honey,” she said.
“Yeah, I guess it made an impression,” Lucas said, apparently to the floor. “Only I totally forgot about it until just now. Mom always said I could remember really well when I paid enough attention, but sometimes my memory needs a jolt to wake it up.”
Maddie caught Olivia’s eye and raised her pale eyebrows, conveying a message that Olivia understood perfectly—Robbie stays on the suspect li
st.
* * *
For the next hour, a steady stream of visitors kept Olivia, Maddie, and Bertha busy on the sales floor. Chatterley Heights Elementary School had freed their prisoners early for a teachers meeting, so clusters of giggly girls used the free time to drop by their favorite stores on their way home. In The Gingerbread House, their preferred activities included playing with the cookie cutters in the cookbook nook, poring over cookbook photos of luscious desserts, and eating the free cookies.
When the girls had all left the store, Olivia took the opportunity to straighten up the cookbook nook before actual customers returned. She had to use one of their large Gingerbread House bags to collect all the cookie cutters strewn around the nook. This time, Olivia also found several small containers of nonpareils, jimmies, and sparkling sugars left on the seats of the two large armchairs. One jar of sapphire blue sparkling sugar had been opened and its inner seal broken. Olivia wondered how Del would react if she asked him to pull fingerprints and identify the little culprit. She decided to swallow the loss as part of the cost of doing business. Next time, she would ask Bertha to keep an eye on those little budding criminals.
Maddie poked her head into the cookbook nook, and said, “Okay, Livie, before the next herd arrives, tell me instantly what you learned from Del during lunch. I figure he must have told you something interesting about those bones, or your date wouldn’t have lasted so long.”
Caught off guard, Olivia hesitated. Maddie would hear her discomfort and know she was hiding something. Olivia grabbed a pile of cookbooks and began to shove them back on the shelf. “Maddie, if we don’t get busy and do our actual jobs, we won’t have jobs at all. I’ve been going over the books, and they aren’t pretty.” Olivia hadn’t planned to say that; it just popped out. And she wasn’t exactly lying. She really had been looking over the books.
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