Virginia Lowell - A Cookie Before Dying

“Charlene, let’s talk somewhere else.”

“Don’t even bother to deny it. The evidence it right there.” Charlene pointed toward a nearby table, where a tray held three uneaten cookies: a magenta apple with a grinning pink worm, a cornflower blue carrot, and something that looked like a turnip with the icing licked off. “You and Maddie are trying to trick everybody into believing that healthy eating doesn’t matter, so they won’t come to my Healthy Eating Club, or maybe even my store. You’re trying to ruin me, and . . . and you’re willing to poison everyone in Chatterley Heights to do it.” Tears spilled down her cheeks, dragging her mascara and foundation with them.

In a flash, Olivia reached two understandings. First, Charlene probably believed everything she had written in her announcement. And second, her thickly applied makeup was an attempt to hide a black eye.

Charlene sniffled and swiped the tears off her cheeks. She seemed unaware that the bruised skin around her left eye had begun to show. “Anyway,” she said, “I didn’t come to talk to you. I need to talk to your brother.”

“Charlie? I think I saw him over by the coffee table, near the window facing the square.” Olivia waved her hand in the general direction of the window. “But Charlene, are you sure you’re all right? I couldn’t help but notice—”

“You’re the one who’s out of it,” Charlene said. “I think all that sugar has eaten holes in your brain. Charlie is my brother, not yours. I’m here to talk to Jason. Your brother.”

That superior edge had slipped back into Charlene’s voice. For a split second, Olivia wanted to slap her; then she remembered that someone already had. Olivia looked around for her mother. Wasn’t this where she was supposed to take over and calm the atmosphere? “I wasn’t aware you and Jason were friends,” Olivia said and instantly wished she’d stuffed a cookie in her own mouth. Charlene and Jason had been friends in high school.

“This is a small town,” Charlene said. “As you know, your younger brother is in my age group. Why wouldn’t we be friends?”

“Jason was in the cookbook nook a little while ago.” Olivia’s tone was curt, but she was beyond caring. “He was eating cookies. Lots of cookies.” So much for “handling” the situation with patience.

Charlene’s perfect little chin lifted a notch. “Then I’d better find him fast. I’ve wasted too much time waiting for your sugar-soaked brain to focus. I need to save Jason from the same fate.”

It’s time to announce the contest winner,” Maddie said as she handed Olivia a Gingerbread House recipe card with one name on it.

Olivia glanced at the name and whispered, “Jason was convinced he would win. Looks like you didn’t give him enough hints.”

“Give me some credit, Livie. I’m not a complete pushover. I gave him a couple hints, like the Duesenberg, but it turns out he isn’t the only old car fanatic in the crowd. Also, Jason isn’t a baker, so he hasn’t developed the knack of identifying shapes. He thought the baby rattle was a barbell. It seems he didn’t process the whole baby context of the mobile.”

“He really wanted that Duesenberg cutter,” Olivia said. Maybe she would give it to him—if he didn’t irritate her too much beforehand.

“Believe me, everyone knows how much Jason wants that cutter,” Maddie said. “I’d feel bad for him except he’s been whispering with Charlene in the nook. They seem pretty cozy. Just thought I’d warn you. Now let’s get cracking, the troops are assembling.”

Olivia and Maddie headed toward the picture window looking out on the town square. Customers watched in hushed silence, as if Olivia were about to announce the next governor of Maryland. Gotta love those cookie cutter fans.

“Thank you all for finding time on a Tuesday morning to join us for this impromptu celebration of the harvest and the eventual return of cool, crisp weather.” Olivia searched faces for Charlene but didn’t see her. She didn’t see Jason, either, which seemed odd given his longing to win the Duesenberg cutter. “I know many of you need to get back to work, so I’ll get right to the important part. Our cookie cutter contest winner today is . . . Gwen Tucker!”

As expected, Gwen selected the baby rattle for her free vintage cookie cutter. After congratulations, the majority of customers vacated the store, having feasted on a lunch of decorated cookies. For a fleeting moment, Olivia wondered if Charlene might have a point about The Gingerbread House being a den of wicked overindulgence. However, Charlene emerged alone from the cookbook nook and flung her a look of disdain, which erased Olivia’s guilt. Instead of leaving the store, Charlene joined her brother Charlie at the beverage cart by the front door. She appeared to be fixing herself a cup of tea.

Ellie appeared beside Olivia. “Overall, that went quite well, don’t you think?”

“Easy for you to say. You didn’t have to deal with Charlene. Where were you, anyway?”

“Right behind you,” Ellie said. “I could see you were doing fine, so I busied myself elsewhere.”

“I wasn’t doing fine at all. I got flustered and sounded like a nasty idiot.”

“Yes, dear, and it was a very effective strategy. Charlene is so sadly insecure. You gave her the opportunity to feel superior, which soothed her righteous anger. I’ve used that approach myself on numerous occasions. You must have picked it up from me.” Ellie glanced up at the Hansel and Gretel clock, so stunning and yet so difficult to read. Since it had been Ellie’s gift, in celebration of The Gingerbread House’s opening, no one minded its imperfections. Ellie said, “I have a voice lesson in either thirty or forty-five minutes, so we have just enough time.”

“Time for what?” Olivia asked.

“For me to tell you what I have learned.”

Spunky whimpered in ecstasy and ran circles around their ankles when Olivia and Ellie entered the upstairs apartment, leaving Maddie and Bertha to cover the store. On normal days he held court in the store, enjoying numerous ear scratches and the occasional treat from customers. On event days, however, he had to stay in the apartment. Crowds seemed to trigger memories of his puppy-mill days, which led to escape attempts.

Leaving her mother in the living room with the small Yorkie on her lap, Olivia brewed a pot of coffee and sliced some carrots and celery. Okay, maybe Charlene was getting to her. At the last minute, Olivia added some cheese crackers to the serving tray. And a couple dog treats, to make up for the ones Spunky missed because he’d been trapped upstairs all morning. Back in the living room, Spunky settled at Olivia’s feet to crunch.

“Okay, talk,” Olivia said. “What have you got on Charlene ?”

“That sounds so harsh, dear. I’ve gleaned a bit of background, that’s all. But first, I have a few things to share about Maddie and also about your brother.”

“Old news, Mom. Maddie won’t speak to Lucas because he asked her to marry him—don’t ask me to explain it—and Jason is an idiot because he is besotted with Charlene.”

Ellie nibbled on a carrot stick and smiled in that calm and knowing way that always made Olivia want to crush something. “Okay, Mom, out with it.” Spunky’s ears perked up at Olivia’s tone.

“I am impressed,” Ellie said as she selected a piece of celery. “Soon you won’t need me to dig up information for you. However, that time has not come yet. As for Maddie’s reaction to Lucas’s proposal, I have a starting place for you. Maddie was about ten, as I remember, when her parents died in a car crash. I know that they were living in Clarksville at the time, and I occasionally saw her mother when my watercolor group wandered in her direction to find a picturesque scene to paint. Adele had been a part of our group before she married and moved away from Chatterley Heights. She always joined us when we gathered close to Clarksville, which we did at least once a month. Adele used to paint in the loveliest shades of pink and red to create a vibrant aura.”