“Aside from the color, I fail to see the difference between my costume and yours.” Olivia studied her appearance in the small mirror. Her white mop cap was sliding off her auburn waves, so she adjusted it. Around her bare neck, she wore a necklace Maddie had strung from small flower-shaped cookie cutters. That touch, Olivia admitted, was sheer creative genius. As for the rest: the push-up bra was doing its job, and the teal laces in her gray bodice were tight around her ribs. At least she was able to breathe without pain. And Maddie had been right about the effect on her eyes, which looked blue-gray. The blouse was alluring, not as low cut as she’d feared, but…“I don’t know, this outfit looks more Renaissance than Victorian. Not that I’m questioning your research.”
“Oh, Livie, just go with it, okay? Karen ordered me to be a Victorian serving girl, but they wore black dresses and white aprons. Really boring. So I changed my character to serving wench. Besides, none of the costumes Karen suggested really had much to do with Chatterley Heights history. I think she wanted me to be a Victorian serving girl so I’d look dowdy.”
“That I can believe,” Olivia said. “Only why is my costume the same as yours. Unless…is this a sneaky way to get me to dress as a serving wench? Did Del put you up to this?”
“Don’t be silly. Your costume has one distinct difference from mine. Look at your skirt, behind your right hip.”
Olivia pulled her skirt fabric forward to smooth out the gathering at her right hip. “What?”
“Right there.” Maddie pointed to a long, dark stain that dribbled down to the hem of Olivia’s skirt. “That is the mark of a tavern wench. I had to use red wine so it would show up. I put it behind your hip because, of course, I didn’t want it to look like you clumsily spilled the wine yourself. Some drunk would have tossed it at you. Probably because you spurned his drunken advances.” Maddie’s freckled cheeks bunched as she grinned. “Isn’t this fun?”
By the time Olivia and Maddie had carted their decorated gingerbread cookies and cookie-cutter displays to their assigned booth, the town square park was already filling with early visitors. Olivia was aware of, and rather pleased with, the male glances tossed in their direction while they wound through the gathering crowd. As they passed the Chatterley Café booth, Olivia recognized the two servers, who were dressed as Puritans. The young woman glanced over Olivia’s costume and gave her a thumbs-up. Pointing to her own costume, the server rolled her eyes heavenward.
In the next booth, Pete, owner of Pete’s Diner, hawked meatball sandwiches and hot coffee. He wore his usual outfit: jeans and a stained T-shirt. Pete was timeless. Ida, his longtime waitress, wore a red-checked dress with puffed sleeves and a little white apron, straight from a fifties diner. Ida, now in her seventies, might easily have worn such a uniform, given she’d been waitressing for sixty years. As Olivia passed near the booth, Ida beckoned to her. “Livie Greyson, does your mother know you’re dressed like a tart?”
“Well…”
“I’m pulling your leg,” Ida said. “Listen, that mayor of ours is looking for you. She’s on the warpath, even more than usual. That woman’s got a personality problem.”
“Thanks for the heads-up.” Olivia didn’t add that Ida was well known for her own brand of crankiness. “I love your costume.”
“Found it in my closet,” Ida said. “It still fits.”
Maddie had gone ahead to the Lady Chatterley’s Boutique booth, where her friend Lola wore a slinky 1920s gown, bright red. Maddie beckoned to Olivia to join them. “Listen to this, Livie.”
Lola glanced over their heads as if to make sure no one was listening. Satisfied, she leaned close to Maddie and Olivia. “There’s a rumor going around,” Lola said in a low, sultry voice, “that our very own mayor once had a fling with Paine Chatterley, right here in Chatterley Heights.”
Olivia did some quick arithmetic. “Isn’t there something of an age difference between Paine and Karen? Are you sure it didn’t happen in Europe?”
Lola shook her head. With her shiny, dark hair and nearly violet eyes, she looked like an exotic cat with a mouse in her sights. “Paine was older than he looked, and Karen…well, you’ve got to hand it to her, she looks terrific for a woman who is about to turn forty-eight. Even so, the affair was scandalous, which is why Paine took off for Europe.”
With a small gasp, Maddie said, “You mean Karen was…” A concentration line formed between her eyebrows. “I know Paine left for Europe when he was about twenty-four or five. Wouldn’t Karen have been a teenager?”
“She was barely sixteen,” Lola said. “I don’t know if she was pregnant, but just her age was enough to force Paine to make tracks for Europe.”
“Are you sure about all this?” Olivia asked. If true, it meant that Karen had a good reason to hate Paine. If Karen Evanson and Karin Evensong were the same person, she might not have traveled to Europe for art school, but rather to track down Paine Chatterley.
“Livie, I work at Lady Chatterley’s Clothing Boutique for Elegant Ladies. Elegant ladies talk. Believe me, my source is unimpeachable,” Lola said. “Karen and my customer were classmates and friends. They aren’t close anymore, but she doesn’t have any reason to lie about Karen. In fact, when she told me the story, she was still angry with Paine Chatterley for his treatment of her old friend.” Lola’s lovely eyes flicked over Maddie’s head. “Uh-oh. Here comes Karen now. She’s been looking for you, Livie.”
Olivia and Maddie grabbed their bags of supplies and headed toward the band shell near the center of the park. The Gingerbread House booth stood empty, waiting for them to festoon it with cookie-cutter garlands and trays of brightly decorated gingerbread cookies. Karen could be difficult, but she’d been thoughtful enough to position the booth near the old-fashioned streetlamp, so the cutters might sparkle at dusk.
Maddie tacked one end of a ribbon, strung with gingerbread man cutters, to an upper corner of the booth. She had a full view of the park. “Warning,” she said. “Karen sighting. She’s bearing down on us fast. Act natural.”
“Easy for you,” Olivia said. “You’re not the one Karen is gunning for. Wish I knew why.” She glanced over her shoulder to watch Karen’s determined approach. “Hey, is that my mom I see behind her?”
“I do believe it is,” Maddie said. “Ellie to the rescue! Wow, she can really carry off that slinky flapper look. Wish I looked that elegant in a straight dress, but it takes a slender, small-boned figure. The fringe on her dress is bouncing; she must really be moving.”
“She caught up with Karen,” Olivia said. “Oops, now they’re both coming this way. Is my own mother mad at me, too? What did I do?”
Ellie gave Olivia a reassuring smile as she and Karen reached the Gingerbread House booth. “Cookie-cutter garlands,” Ellie said. “What a clever idea. This is going to be one of the most appealing booths at the fete.”
“One of?” Olivia opened a covered cake pan and began to transfer cookies to a large plate decorated with a purple and yellow gingerbread house.
“Your costumes are outrageous,” Karen said. “No Victorian serving girl would be caught dead in such outfits.”
“I’m fairly certain,” Maddie said in a dangerous voice, “that Victorian serving girls are mostly all dead, anyway.”
Karen ignored her and said to Olivia, “I’ve been racing all over the park looking for you. For a member of the celebration planning committee, you’ve certainly been casual about our timetable.” Before Olivia could formulate a retort, Karen said, “But never mind that now. I wanted to make sure you knew that we, the members of the celebration committee, are holding a meeting after the fete ends.”
“Another meeting?” Olivia tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice, she really did.
“We need to dissect the weekend as quickly as possible, while it’s still fresh in our minds. We don’t want to repeat mistakes next time.”
Olivia lifted another pan of cookies from a bag and selected a tray shaped like a gingerbread man. “I
don’t know about you, Karen, but I don’t intend to be around in another two hundred and fifty years.”
“You know what I mean. We’ll meet at the community center after the fireworks end. The committee members are to go on ahead to the center, while I give a short speech to mark the official end of the celebration. Rosemarie York has promised to have coffee brewed. I think we’ll all have had enough to eat, so no snacks are necessary. Try not to drink too much alcohol this afternoon; I want everyone’s mind to be sharp.” With a firm nod to indicate she’d finished, Karen turned and strode toward a forlorn group of madrigal singers gathering in the band shell.
Ellie waited until Karen was out of earshot and said, “Poor Karen, she is quite stressed. I tried to lighten her mood, but she is determined not to relax until the fete is over.”
Olivia leaned closer to Ellie and lowered her voice. “Mom, did you ever hear anything about Karen and Paine being, um, involved? It would have been right about when I was born, I think.”
As she watched Karen’s retreating figure, Ellie said, “I was rather busy at that time, but yes, I did hear of such a relationship. Frankly, I see no reason the incident should be brought up again. It would only dredge up hurtful old rumors, and Karen has enough on her hands at the moment.” Ellie’s stern tone took Olivia back to her childhood. “Karen was a naive farm girl, which might be hard for you to imagine, but people do change over—what has it been? At least thirty-plus years now. How time does—”
“Mom? Details? Before the sun sets?”
Ellie arched a disapproving eyebrow at her only daughter. “Really, Livie, I never thought of you as a scandal monger.”
“I’m going to ignore that comment,” Olivia said with a haughty toss of her head. Her mop cap flew off, destroying the effect. Chuckling, Maddie retrieved the cap and plopped it back on Olivia’s head. “I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important,” Olivia said. “Is the affair the real reason Paine left the country? Was Karen pregnant?”
“You think Karen might have killed Paine Chatterley all these years later? Why? Karen has gone on with her life; she has laudable ambitions. And no, as far as I am aware, she did not become pregnant, in case you’re thinking she would have killed Paine for revenge.”
“Well, it is a consideration,” Maddie said. “Karen does want to run for Congress, right? Something like an abortion in her past wouldn’t sit well with some voters.”
Ellie’s long gray tresses swung outward as she shook her head. “I knew Karen’s mother, Iris. We belonged to the same quilting group. Iris was proud that Karen stayed in high school, despite her emotional turmoil. She never missed a day right up to graduation. Karen has always been a very focused person. The Evanson family was not well to do, but Karen put herself through college and has worked hard to succeed.”
Olivia finished arranging cookies on plates and stretched plastic wrap over them. “By ‘not well to do,’ do you mean the Evansons were poor?”
“They were a typical farm family,” Ellie said. “They had good years and lean years, but they managed. Iris was a fine seamstress. She made Karen’s clothes and sewed for a number of Chatterley Heights women as well. I’ll admit I didn’t knew Karen very well at the time, but I was close to Iris.”
Olivia wondered if her mother’s fondness for Iris made her overlook Karen’s tyrannical behavior, but she kept that thought to herself. Ellie was highly intuitive about people, but she was only human. It was time to change the subject. “Hey, Mom, is that Allan I see in the band shell, hanging out with the madrigal singers?”
Ellie’s face lit up. “It’s so wonderful having Allan home more. Though of course, being so gregarious by nature, he has been looking for ways to get involved. He has such a lovely baritone, and the madrigal singers are so…”
“Awful?” Maddie offered.
“I was going to say they are a bit thin in the baritone range,” Ellie said.
“Also tenor and bass,” Olivia added, “given they seem to have only one male singer, and that would be Allan.”
“Jason will be back in town soon, and he sings in the tenor range,” Ellie said. “It will be so good for him to spend time with his stepfather.”
Poor Jason. However, Olivia had no intention of warning her brother about their mother’s plans for his free time. What fun would that be?
Two hours into the fete, the supply of decorated gingerbread cookies had been halved. “Wow,” Maddie said during a pause, “these things are selling like…like decorated cookies.”
“I’d pick a decorated cookie over a hotcake any day,” Olivia said. She reached into a supply bag to get another covered cake pan filled with cookies. She heard a series of clicks, which turned out to be coming from a camera operated by Binnie Sloan and aimed right at Olivia’s chest.
“Thanks,” Binnie said. “I’ll pick the best shot. Check it out on my Weekend Chatter blog. It ought to be good for a few extra hits.”
Olivia kept her scathing retorts to herself. Knowing Binnie, she’d record and post them on her blog, along with the photo.
“How about a free cookie for the press?” Without waiting for permission, Binnie snatched two cookies. She made a sandwich of them, icing sides together, and took a bite. “Not bad,” she said with her mouth full.
With a sideways glance at Olivia, Maddie slid the cookie tray out of reach. “Gotten any other good shots, Binnie?”
“Check my blog and see for yourself.”
“I’m really busy these days,” Maddie said. “Give me a reason why I’d want to see what’s on that blog of yours.”
Binnie eyed the cookies, just out of reach. “Give me a cookie, I’ll give you a reason.”
Olivia smiled as she watched Maddie use a small sheet of bakery tissue to pick up one cookie and hand it to Binnie. Maddie was no fool. If she handed over the tray, Binnie would snag as many as she could hold.
Binnie’s smug grin faded, but she took the cookie. “Got a great shot of our mayor,” she said. “She needs to learn a little self-control.” With that tantalizing comment, Binnie bit off a gingerbread man’s head, shoulders, and upper torso. She spun around and walked off, but not before Olivia and Maddie saw her cheeks bulge as she tried to chew more cookie than her mouth could hold.
“Who needs to learn self-control?” Olivia said this under her breath, since it usually wasn’t a good idea to antagonize the local press. Binnie had a camera and a tape recorder, and she knew how to use them. Maddie heard Olivia’s comment and giggled softly.
“I am curious, though,” Olivia said once Binnie was out of earshot, “what Karen lost her self-control about. And with whom did she lose it?”
By midafternoon, the excitement began to wane among fete goers. The madrigal singers had lost their voices, and several busloads of visitors had departed, having eaten their way through the Chatterley Heights town square park. Given it was Sunday and getting chilly, Olivia figured the audience for the evening fireworks would be mostly tired locals. Just as well the crowd had thinned, she thought, since The Gingerbread House booth was running seriously low on decorated cookies.
“Hey, there’s Heather and Matthew,” Maddie said, pointing toward the Pete’s Diner booth. “Matthew looks less tortured than usual.”
“Rosemarie is right behind them,” Olivia said.
Maddie waved as Heather looked in their direction. Heather waved back and took Matthew by the arm.
Olivia checked over their dwindling supply of cookies. “I hope they aren’t too hungry.”
Matthew paid Maddie for two cookies, while Heather engaged her in bubbling conversation. Rosemarie settled near Olivia, watching the young couple fondly. “Your cookies look delicious, as always,” Rosemarie said, “but I’m stuffed.”
“How is Matthew holding up?” Olivia asked.
“Quite well, considering…”
As Rosemarie’s smile faded, Olivia noticed the puffiness around her eyes. “And how are you holding up?”
“Oh, I’m fine. Matthew
is still under some suspicion, of course, but he was released from jail when a test of some sort showed he hadn’t fired a weapon. The sheriff told me he did a second search of the mansion and grounds this morning and found two spent bullets.”
“So someone did fire a weapon,” Olivia said, “and it wasn’t Matthew.”
“That’s what it looks like.” Rosemarie leaned an elbow on the booth’s sales shelf.
“You don’t seem relieved. Are you sure you don’t need a cookie?” Olivia edged the tray an inch closer to Rosemarie’s elbow.
“So tempting, Livie, but no. Over the past few weeks, I’ve eaten enough sugar to fill the community center. And I really am relieved about Matthew…for now, anyway. I’m just feeling a touch of tattletale’s remorse. I wish I hadn’t told you what I did about Quill and Paine in high school. Now I’ve made Quill a suspect.”
“Rosemarie, he really is a suspect. Quill had a strong reason to hate Paine, assuming he did mastermind the switched names on those tests.”
“Oh, he did indeed,” Rosemarie said with quiet force. “But I have sympathy for Quill. He took the fall for Paine, and I think I know why.”
Olivia hesitated, uncertain how to encourage Rosemarie to say more but not wanting to seem too eager for the information. “If Quill had a reason to accept blame,” she said, “that might weaken his motive for murdering Paine.”
“It might,” Rosemarie said. “Yes, I think it might.” She edged away from Matthew and Heather, who were still chatting with Maddie. Olivia gestured toward the back entrance to the booth. Rosemarie nodded, and they met behind the booth. With the fete winding down, they’d have adequate privacy.
“Quill was quite shy with girls,” Rosemarie said. “And Paine was popular. He was good-looking and brash, so girls were drawn to him. I’d noticed that when the two became friends, Quill began to double-date with Paine. Once I realized Paine was cheating, copying Quill’s work, I suspected he was ‘paying’ Quill by getting dates for him. I wondered if Quill even understood that he was being bought. He was rather naive for his age.”
When the Cookie Crumbles Page 20