06 Dead Men Don't Eat Cookies, page 12
However, Olivia reminded herself, now she had Spunky. Her fierce protector was trotting confidently toward the alley door to the Gingerbread House kitchen. No sooner had she begun to relax than Spunky stiffened, his ears perked. Olivia froze as she watched those sensitive Yorkie ears shift position, trying to pinpoint and identify a sound that Olivia could not hear. Spunky growled in the direction of the Gingerbread House garbage can. The trash collector must have deposited the can in a dark area a few feet away from its usual place near the alley door. With the motion detector out of commission, Olivia could barely see the outline of the can.
Spunky bounded into the air and unleashed a torrent of yaps. Olivia tightened her grip on his leash. Though she couldn’t see into the darkness behind the garbage can, she was certain nothing as large as a person had leaped out of hiding and escaped down the alley. Spunky had probably heard a squirrel foraging for food. The little guy considered squirrels his mortal enemies because he could never catch one.
Yanking on Spunky’s leash, Olivia edged toward the locked door to the store kitchen. She heard the sound of a latch releasing. The door opened, and Maddie’s face appeared. “Hey, you two. Are you trying to scare the life out of me? Now I’ll need an extra cookie to calm my nerves.” She opened the alley door wider to allow Olivia to enter. Spunky seemed to have lost interest in whatever he’d heard behind the garbage can. He ran joyfully into the forbidden kitchen, but his leash kept him from getting very far.
“Sorry, kiddo.” Olivia scooped the pup under her free arm. “Back in a sec,” she said. While Olivia released Spunky from his leash, Maddie held the kitchen door open. She pulled it shut in time to prevent Spunky from sneaking back into the kitchen.
“What happened out there?” Maddie filled a cup with leftover coffee and handed it to Olivia. “I noticed the motion detector light was out when I arrived. Should we call Del and ask for backup?”
“It was probably just a squirrel,” Olivia said, though her hand shook as she poured cream into her coffee. “Spunky has more acute hearing than I do.”
“If you say so.” Maddie turned off Mr. Coffee and rinsed the residue from the bottom of the carafe. “All the same, I’m glad we’re taking that noisy little critter with us this evening. And I suggest we leave by the front door. I’m all for good lighting.”
“No argument here.” Olivia drained her coffee cup and left it in the sink. “We’ll only have about forty-five minutes with Aunt Sadie before we’ll need to head for Mom and Allan’s house. Let’s take my car. It’s parked near the corner of the square.”
“Time to roll.” Maddie slid a covered cake pan off the top of the refrigerator. “I’ll carry the cookies and the goodies I picked up for Aunt Sadie. You grab the mutt.”
In just under ten minutes, Olivia’s distinctive PT Cruiser pulled up in front of Aunt Sadie’s home, where Maddie had lived from age ten until she’d married Lucas Ashford. Olivia parked under a streetlamp, mostly for security but also because she loved showing off her car’s paint job: a colorful depiction of The Gingerbread House festooned with somersaulting gingerbread figures.
“I’ll run up and ring the doorbell,” Maddie said. “Then I’ll come right back for the food. It takes Aunt Sadie a while to maneuver her wheelchair to the door these days, mostly because she’s been sorting through everything in the house. She needs to downsize for the move to her new apartment in our place. Not an easy task when you’ve lived in the same house for fifty years.” Maddie’s long, muscular legs carried her swiftly across the porch. She punched the doorbell and raced back to the car. “Reminds me of our evil childhood pranks. Remember, Livie? We used to ring doorbells and hide in the bushes to giggle at the clueless adults.”
Olivia chuckled as she handed Maddie the pan of cookies and the food for Aunt Sadie’s dinner. “Fun times . . . at least they were until my mom found out what we were doing.” Olivia remembered well how mortified she had felt when they had to return to each victim’s house and confess their silly crime. It didn’t help that several homeowners had rolled their eyes and laughed.
Aunt Sadie’s greeting felt far more satisfying. Though she was now confined to a wheelchair, she always seemed vibrant. “Now come in quickly and close that door,” she said. “Then we can hug in comfort.”
Maddie bent down to wrap her arms around the woman who had taken her in after her parents—Aunt Sadie’s younger sister and her husband—died in a car wreck. “I love this afghan you are knitting,” Maddie said. “Peach and deep red . . . I’ll have to try that color combination with royal icing.” She kissed the curly gray hair on the top of her aunt’s head. “We brought cookies, a cupcake, and Pete’s meatloaf. I’ll go get you a plate.”
“Don’t bother, Maddie, dear. I have a fork underneath my knitting. I’ll eat the meatloaf right out of the box. Oh, and I happen to have a spoon so I can get every last bit of Pete’s special sauce.” She opened the take-out box and took a sniff. “That man is a genius. Now, while I eat, you two girls sit right there on the sofa and tell me what you want to know. Am I right to assume that this concerns those sad bones you found in the old Chatterley Boarding House?” Aunt Sadie wheeled herself into her living room, while Maddie and Olivia settled cross-legged on the roomy sofa.
“Was it named after the Chatterley family?” Olivia asked.
“It was named by a Chatterley.” Aunt Sadie smiled. “That was back in the 1920s, when the building was first built. It was considered quite a genteel place where even a woman could live alone and maintain her respectability. That changed in the thirties, of course, after the stock market crash.”
“Who owned the building?” Olivia asked.
“Now that’s an interesting story.” Aunt Sadie handed her container of meatloaf to Maddie, and said, “I can finish my dinner later. Right now I’d rather have Spunky on my lap while I nibble on dessert and talk about the old days.” Spunky heard his name, went right over to Aunt Sadie, and jumped up to her lap. Maddie handed her a small plate holding a star-shaped cookie decorated with lilac icing and dark red sparkling sugar. “Who could ask for more?” Aunt Sadie murmured before she bit a point off the star.
Olivia forced herself not to check her watch. Would it really matter if they were late for dinner? Aunt Sadie’s stories were always worth hearing.
With her free hand, Aunt Sadie massaged Spunky’s silky neck, while she made quick work of her cookie. Accepting Maddie’s offer of another cookie, she said, “I know you are both in a hurry, so I’ll answer your question before I indulge in another of your delicious treats. Although . . .” She picked up a pink and purple rose shape. “Perhaps just one bite, for energy.” After a tiny nibble, Aunt Sadie put the cookie on her plate. “Now where was I? Oh yes, the Chatterley Boarding House . . . It was a lovely building in the beginning, which is hardly surprising since it was conceived and built by Horace Chatterley, a direct descendant of our own town founder, Frederick P. Chatterley.”
“Horace,” Maddie said. “I remember that name. Wasn’t he notorious for something or other? I once heard my mother and a couple of her friends discussing Horace Chatterley in hushed, giggly voices. Was he a ladies’ man, like Frederick P.?”
Waves of wrinkles spread across Aunt Sadie’s plump cheeks as she grinned. “Oh my, yes, but Horace was even worse. Say what you will, Frederick took good care of his wife and family. Of course, everyone knew about his indiscretions, but family always came first for Frederick. Horace, on the other hand, behaved as if he had no family. He attended gala affairs in the company of other women, while his wife stayed home. His children barely knew him.”
“I suppose his wife suffered in silence?” Olivia knew that time was passing, but she was hooked.
“Not precisely,” Aunt Sadie said. “No doubt she suffered, but not in silence. She turned all five of her children against their father. After all, Horace ignored them, too, while he lived the good life. In the end, it was the Chatterley Boarding House that finally brought him down. You see, he became involved with a lovely young woman named Imogene who wasn’t at all like his previous companions.” Aunt Sadie paused, her eyes straying to the cookie she had barely begun.
“You’re killing me, Aunt Sadie.” Maddie handed the cookie plate to her aunt. “Please tell us that Imogene ground Horace into cookie crumbs.” Spunky’s head snapped up as the cookie changed hands, but he lost interest when no tasty tidbits fell within snatching distance.
Aunt Sadie closed her eyes as she enjoyed a big bite. “Now,” she said, “I feel as though I can go on with the story. Yes, Maddie, Imogene proved to be Horace’s undoing, as they used to say. She was smart and, in her own well-intentioned way, ruthless. You see, Imogene was a reformer. She despised rich, selfish men like Horace, but she was more than willing to play his companion in order to separate him from his wealth. She strung him along to keep him interested in her. She even managed to convince him to fund the construction of a boarding house for worthy, yet disadvantaged workers. Don’t ask me how she did it, but she got Horace to believe that the venture would be wildly lucrative for him. Imogene knew full well he would barely break even, but she was determined to provide good, inexpensive housing for young workers, men and women both, who might have a chance to escape poverty. And it worked, for a while.”
“And then the Depression hit,” Olivia said.
“Yes, then came the Great Depression.” Aunt Sadie put down her cookie. “Horace had invested heavily in the stock market. Ultimately, the Chatterley Boarding House failed, of course. The residents could no longer pay for their rooms, though many of them stayed until they were forced out. In later years, a succession of owners tried to revitalize the building, but it never took off again. It was abandoned many years ago. If Chatterley Heights were a city, these abandoned old buildings would be torn down for new ones, but no one here has shown much interest in the property. So the building sits there, crumbling, waiting . . .”
“Not to worry, Aunt Sadie,” Maddie said. “Calliope and Ellie will soon have the place renovated and living a new life.”
“I’m so glad.” Aunt Sadie checked her watch, and said, “Now, you two must run along or you’ll be late for dinner. I didn’t mean to keep you so long listening to my silly old story.”
“It’s an intriguing old story,” Olivia said. “I’m curious, what happened to Horace Chatterley’s family? It was always my impression that the Chatterleys managed to stay more or less solvent through the centuries.”
Aunt Sadie nodded. “Yes, all but poor Horace. His family, however, did just fine. Horace’s eldest son, Henry, had realized quite young that his father could not be depended upon to support the family. So Henry decided he needed a trade. He settled on law. Henry was a bright lad, took after his mother in that respect. He convinced his father to turn over to him a portion of the family fortune, which he withdrew from the stock market right before it crashed. He used the money to take care of his mother and siblings while he slowly established his law practice in Baltimore.”
“A most satisfying story.” Maddie kissed her aunt on the forehead. “I’ll put your meatloaf on a plate and heat it up in the microwave before we leave.” In less than a minute, she returned from the kitchen bearing a plate of warmed meatloaf, which she handed to her aunt. “By the way, what finally happened to good old Horace?”
“Oh my, such a sad ending. His wife and children wanted nothing to do with him and sent him packing. Poor Horace ended up living in his own boarding house for a time. Finally, he simply disappeared and was never heard from again.”
“Why didn’t I know this story?” Olivia asked. “And I’ve certainly never heard a word about Henry Chatterley.”
“Oh, there are so many stories about the Chatterley dynasty, and many have been forgotten. I suspect Henry Chatterley has faded from memory because he changed his last name to Jones. Most folks don’t know that. Now you two, off you go or you’ll be terribly late for dinner. I do hope you can help that poor girl, Alicia. Such a sad way to lose one’s father.”
“Just one more question,” Olivia said, “and then we’ll disappear so you can eat in peace. What happened to Imogene and her crusade to save the downtrodden? I’m hoping she didn’t sink into a life of despair and poverty.”
“Goodness,” Aunt Sadie said. “I almost forgot the best part of the story. Well, you see, Imogene married Henry Chatterley. Together they continued Imogene’s mission to help the poor rise up in the world. So romantic, don’t you think?”
“But Henry had changed his name, so she became a Jones instead of a Chatterley,” Olivia said as she scooped her pup out of Aunt Sadie’s lap. “Most women wouldn’t appreciate that, but I suppose Imogene didn’t mind so much.”
“Oh no, my dear, you have it turned around. When they married, Imogene kept her last name, which was Jones. So you see, Henry took her name. It was done, I believe, without fanfare or explanation . . . though his meaning was clear,” Aunt Sadie added with an impish grin. “Taking Imogene’s name was Henry’s way of divorcing his Chatterley heritage.”
Chapter Ten
Olivia, Maddie, and Spunky arrived twenty minutes late for dinner at the Greyson-Meyers home. Jason answered the door, holding a half-eaten cheese sandwich. “Jeez, you two,” Jason said with his mouth full. “You sure took your time getting here. It only takes like five minutes to drive from your store. Mom won’t let me sample the meatloaf until we sit down to eat, and I’m practically passing out from hunger.”
Olivia took in a breath to fire a retort, but she changed her mind when Dolly Fitzpatrick appeared behind Jason’s left shoulder. “Hey, Livie,” Dolly said. “It was so nice of your mom to invite me for dinner.” Dolly was slightly out of breath, Olivia noticed, and her cheeks looked flushed. Either she was excited to be with Jason, or the two of them had recently been arm wrestling. If it was the latter, Olivia hoped Dolly hadn’t let him win. That wasn’t the way to get Jason to notice her.
“Can I hold your sweet little Yorkie?” Dolly held out her arms to Spunky, who wriggled in an effort to reach her.
“Traitor,” Olivia whispered in his ear as she handed him over to Dolly.
“I’ll bring our dessert contribution to the kitchen,” Maddie said, “and offer my services to Ellie. Livie, you stay here and socialize.” She wiggled her eyebrows to indicate she expected Olivia to listen, learn, and report back later.
“Jason, your mom wants your help in the kitchen, too.” Dolly lightly touched his arm as she spoke. Jason didn’t seem to notice the touch. He rolled his eyes and turned to leave. As he ambled toward the kitchen, he stuffed the rest of his sandwich into his mouth. Dolly watched his retreating figure and shook her head. “If I ate like that,” she said, “I’d weigh as much as Jason’s Ford Fairlane. It’s so unfair.”
“I’d like to believe that he’ll turn into a blimp one day,” Olivia said, “but our father was always tall and thin, despite his cookie addiction.”
With a shrug, Dolly shifted her bright blue eyes to Olivia’s face. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here, Livie. I was really surprised when Struts told me your mom wanted me to come to dinner this evening and take a look at a young woman to be sure she’s the girl who bought that cookie cutter charm I made. Of course, she was about twelve when I met her, and it was only for about ten minutes.”
“Even so, you have a great memory for faces.” Olivia glanced toward the dining room to make sure no one was coming their way. “I certainly thought your drawing of the young girl looked very much like Alicia. I wonder why Mom would go to all this trouble.”
“I wondered about that, too,” Dolly said.
“My mother’s ways are often mysterious,” Olivia said. “Do you have any idea how many of those charms you sold?”
Dolly frowned in concentration, which only made her more gorgeous.
It’s a good thing Dolly is a likable person, Olivia thought. She was surprised by her fiercely protective instincts. She had already watched Jason nearly go to prison for a former girlfriend, and she still didn’t trust his judgment. Besides, irritating as Jason could be, Olivia didn’t want her baby brother to endure another broken heart.
“I think I sold four of those heart charms,” Dolly said. “But I’m positive that three of them sold to adult women. I could sketch them for you, if you like.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Olivia said.
Dolly motioned to Olivia to follow her to a more private spot near a bookcase. “Listen, Livie, about Jason and me,” Dolly said. “Please don’t worry that I’ll throw myself at him. I do like the guy a lot, but I’m not a dumb teenager anymore. Not that all teenagers are dumb, of course, but I sure was. I thought all those guys who were after me really liked me as a person. Ha! They were only chasing after me because of my . . .” Dolly shook her perfect golden curls impatiently. “That’s not important. I want you to know that I like your brother because he treats me with respect. I swear, the first thing Jason noticed about me was I changed the oil in my car all by myself. We started discussing auto maintenance, and pretty soon we were talking about classic cars and how to restore them. That was the best conversation I’ve ever had with a man.”
“Okay, then,” Olivia said. “I will worry no more. But I do have one little piece of advice. If you ever find yourself in an arm wrestling contest with Jason, don’t—”
