Virginia Lowell - A Cookie Before Dying

“That plus the scent of your baking as it drifted over to his hardware store. Never underestimate the power of decorated cookies.” Olivia didn’t add that once Lucas became interested in her, Maddie reverted, for a time, to middle-school-crush mode. That period was best forgotten.

With a sideways leap, Maddie disposed of the final paper ball. “Enough about Charlene. There is cookie dough in the fridge, and it’s calling out to me.”

Between them, they hauled the trash can back to its space in the alley behind The Gingerbread House. “Let’s go in the front,” Olivia said. “I left poor Spunky locked in the foyer.”

They rounded the corner and found Sheriff Del standing at the door, frowning as he listened to Spunky’s frantic barking. He relaxed when he saw them. “I was getting worried,” Del said. “I wondered if you’d gotten knocked on your heads when you returned from The Vegetable Plate.”

Olivia grinned. “Do you suspect crime behind every door?”

“Occupational hazard. Especially when you’re around.”

“Ouch.”

“I see you got the lawn back to normal,” Del said. “By the way, Charlene steadfastly denies any responsibility for those flyers. She insists you two set the whole thing up, including the break-in, so you could scare her off.”

Maddie snorted. “Frankly, she isn’t worth the trouble.”

Olivia unlocked the front door, triggering an explosion of vicious barking from inside.

“Hush, Spunky, it’s me. Want some coffee, Del? We were about to reward our clean-up work with a flurry of cookie construction. Besides, I have a few questions to ask you.”

“I knew there’d be a catch,” Del said. “Thanks, but I need to get back to the station. I only stopped by to let you know we have a suspect for the break-in. We need to check his alibi, then we’ll be in touch about your identification.”

“But I only saw his—”

“You saw his back as he ran off, I know, but it’s worth a try. I’m tracking down some information, so I should be able to fill you in tomorrow. You’re still closed on Mondays, right? Great. Meanwhile, keep your doors locked.” Del left before Olivia could ask who the suspect was.

The small kitchen at the back of The Gingerbread House had acquired two new items since Olivia received her inheritance: a window air conditioner and a new freezer, which hummed with state-of-the-art efficiency next to the bruised old refrigerator. Without good air conditioning, August in eastern Maryland was not conducive to long, happy hours of cookie baking and decorating. Olivia preferred feeling connected with the outdoors, but not when the heat and humidity made her feel like a boiled potato. Besides, she’d told herself, controlled humidity was better for consistent cookie quality.

Olivia loved Mondays, when the store remained closed. She and Maddie could catch up on business chores and get a jump on preparing the various cookies they would need for the coming week. Now that they could afford to hire some help in the store, they’d begun to supply special-order cookies for private parties, in addition to their themed store events.

“Ready to roll,” Maddie said. “If I can find my trusty rolling pin.”

Olivia looked up from her paperwork. “Cupboard next to the sink, second shelf from the top.”

“How’d it get there? I swear, Livie, you hide things on purpose so you can torture me.”

Olivia reached into a drawer and tossed Maddie a clean towel to wipe the dough off her hands. “Nonsense,” she said. “You are the resident genius, and I am merely your short-term memory.”

“Did you remember to get more flour? This dough is a tad sticky.”

“Top shelf, next to the sugar. Are you starting on the cookies for the Tucker baby shower this week?

“Um, sure, that’s on the agenda.”

Something in Maddie’s tone made Olivia suspicious. “That event is special to me. If it weren’t for Gwen and Herbie’s contacts with animal rescue groups, I wouldn’t have found Spunky.” At the sound of his name, the little Yorkie lifted his head a few inches from his blanket, then dropped back to sleep. “The lazy bum.”

Maddie studied a package of meringue powder as if she’d never seen one before. “I’m making an extra batch of dough to try out some ideas. Anyway, I mixed two batches yesterday, and they’re rolled and chilling in the fridge, so there’ll be plenty to work with. Don’t fuss, Livie, all will be well. Don’t you have errands to run or something?”

“I thought I’d—” A knock on the alley door interrupted her. “Are you expecting Lucas?”

“Not really,” Maddie said as she opened the door. “Hi, Del, what’s up?”

The sheriff dropped his uniform hat on the counter and mopped his forehead with his shirtsleeve. “You two have the best air conditioning in town.”

“Well, don’t let it escape into the alley,” Maddie said.

“Do you only want us for our air conditioning?” Olivia asked.

“It’s a start,” Del said, with a lopsided grin.

Maddie rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you two, get a room. I have cookies to cut.”

“Look who’s criticizing.” Olivia felt a little ping of pleasure whenever she and Del flirted, but it had been all too rare since late June. Her ex-husband, Ryan, had shown up uninvited with his grand scheme to open a clinic to provide affordable surgery for poor patients. It was a nice idea, but Olivia knew Ryan too well. Surgery was all he really enjoyed doing. He’d get bored and frustrated with the administrative demands of a clinic. She found it hard to believe that he had really turned over a new leaf.

Olivia poured a glass of iced tea from a pitcher in the refrigerator, added a few ice cubes and a wedge of lemon, and handed it to Del. “Any news about the break-in next door?”

“Thanks.” Del swallowed a large gulp of tea. “We do have a suspect, but no real proof. When Charlene called the family attorney, we had to release him.”

“Charlene called the family attorney? You mean the suspect is—?”

“Charlie Critch, Charlene’s younger brother,” Del said. “It would be great if you could get a look at him, Livie. He works as a mechanic at the garage,” Del said. “Does your brother still work there?”

“Wow, the plot thickens.” Maddie eased an unbaked cut-out cookie onto a length of parchment paper. “Livie, did you know Charlene had a brother?”

“I did not,” Olivia said. “Why didn’t we know that? My brother must work with him.”

“He moved here a couple months ago and keeps pretty much to himself,” Del said. “He rents a room from Gwen Tucker’s aunt Agnes, over on the east side of town. So far we haven’t been able to get a lot of background on him. Doesn’t seem to have much of a history, but Cody is scouring the Internet.” If there was anything to find, Del’s eager deputy, Cody Furlow, would hunt it down.

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “I’ll drop by the garage with some cookies and see if I can get a look at—what was his name? Charlie? Charlene and Charlie. . . . Are they twins?”

“Charlie is at least five years younger,” Del said. “No record, adult anyway. Charlene might not want to press charges but vandalism is still a crime. I’m real interested in that kid. He and his sister had a public falling out two days ago at the Chatterley Heights Café. About money, according to witnesses. Charlene has lots and Charlie doesn’t. We’re looking into their family circumstances.” Del drained his iced tea and retrieved his uniform hat. “Let me know your impressions after you get a look at the kid. Maybe chat with him, take his measure.” A cloud of hot, wet air osmosed into the cool kitchen as he opened the alley door.