“Why?”
“For the same reason I didn’t—I could have sent Geoff to jail anytime I wanted to. It would have been . . . well, messy, but I’d have done it. The last time Geoff hit me, I told him I’d had it. I said if he didn’t go away and leave us alone, I’d tell the police what I knew about him.” Charlene’s lower lip trembled.
“Tell the police what?” Olivia’s voice betrayed the desperation she felt. “What did you have on King? That’s what he was searching for when I caught him in your kitchen, wasn’t it?”
Charlene bolted to her feet and sent her chair teetering backward. Charlie caught it before it fell. “I need to check on my salesclerks,” Charlene said. “We’re done here.” She clutched Charlie’s upper arm and dragged him out of his chair.
Olivia, however, wasn’t finished. She followed the Critch siblings through the kitchen door and into the store. Charlene conferred with two young female clerks, ignoring Olivia as she roamed the sales floor. She knew what she was looking for—the missing cookie cutters Bertha reported seeing in Charlene’s hands. With luck, they might be on display.
The cookbook section seemed a good place to start. Cookie cutters make lovely shelf decorations. Olivia struck out there, so she checked the lamps scattered about. No cutters hung from the pull cords. Next she searched the store for the sparkle and shine of slicing gadgets, a logical place to exhibit cookie cutters. She located the display in a sunny spot near the cash register, along with two clerks, a customer, and Charlene.
An eager clerk offered to help her find the perfect slicing tool for any need, but Olivia waved her off with “Just looking.” For my own property. . . . And there they were, the cutters missing from The Gingerbread House. She had to admit they lent a touch of artistic gaiety to the jumble of knives, vegetable peelers, garlic crushers, and other slicing paraphernalia. She almost hated to claim them back.
Olivia counted six cookie cutters: a carrot and an apple, hanging from two jars filled with various types of peelers; a sailboat next to a fish-boning knife; a party dress looped over several lemon zesters; a teapot next to the zesters; and a star above the entire display. Olivia stepped back and surveyed the entire section. There was no vintage tin cutter in the shape of a classic Duesenberg.
“Why do you look shocked?”
Olivia spun around toward Charlene’s voice “Did I look shocked?”
“Cookie cutters don’t have to be linked with sugar. I thought of that before you brought those little vegetable sandwiches.”
“I can see that,” Olivia said. “I wasn’t shocked, I just didn’t remember you buying any cookie cutters.”
Charlene cocked a perfectly shaped eyebrow at her. “Oh, I didn’t buy these cookie cutters. Charlie bought them for me.” Charlene’s expression softened as she reached out to touch the sailboat cutter. “When we were kids, Charlie and I used to take the family sailboat out on the lake at our vacation home. We’d spend hours drifting around, pretending we were explorers. Each of these shapes means something special to me. Charlie knows that. He can be a sweet brother sometimes.”
“Yeah” Olivia said. “I’ve got one of those, too.”
Charlene briefly met Olivia’s eyes and said, “Jason is a good guy. I hope he gets cleared.”
“Me, too.” Olivia did not say aloud that Charlie almost certainly stole the cookie cutters from The Gingerbread House. She suspected he’d taken the Duesenberg cutter, too. Had he given it to Jason? Did the cutter fall out of Charlie’s or Jason’s pocket during a struggle with Geoffrey King? If so, the Duesenberg might have been King’s dying attempt to identify his killer . . . and one sister was about to lose a baby brother.
Chapter Twenty
Olivia walked the short distance back from The Vegetable Plate with ideas tumbling around in her head like cookie cutter mobiles in a windstorm. Each one tantalized her, but she couldn’t decide which to grab. Charlene Critch clearly hated her ex-husband enough to kill him, especially since he persistently threatened, blackmailed, and stole from both her and her beloved brother. Moreover, Olivia now knew that Charlie Critch had stolen at least six of the seven cookie cutters missing from The Gingerbread House. Olivia was willing to bet he’d also stolen the Duesenberg cutter found in Geoffrey King’s dead hand. Had he meant to give the cutter to Jason, who had wanted it so much? Did he, in fact, give the Duesenberg to Olivia’s brother before King’s murder?
Heather Irwin seemed genuinely contrite about nearly running Olivia down with her truck. She claimed that King struck her because she’d confronted him about stealing from her, which sounded in character for him. On the surface, Heather appeared shy and quiet. Underneath, she was smart, determined, and gutsy. She did her homework and planned ahead, all useful characteristics for someone bent on revenge.
Heather had revealed one intriguing bit of information. It seemed that Geoffrey King was drawn to knives, and he made a habit of aiming for the faces of his victims. King himself died from a knife wound. Valentina Larssen’s lovely face was disfigured as the result of a knife wound. Maybe King had threatened to slash her other cheek as well. If Ida’s recollection was correct, Valentina had a violent, nighttime encounter with King in the park—and a very protective father. All of which might be no more than a string of coincidences . . . but something to keep in mind.
“Were you planning to come inside sometime today?” Maddie’s question reached Olivia through an open side window in The Gingerbread House. “You’ve been standing out there forever, lost in thought.”
“Have I? Sorry.” When Olivia focused on Maddie’s face, she realized something was wrong. Maddie’s freckles looked darker than usual against the pallor of her skin.
“We sort of need you in here,” Maddie said. “Desperately.”
“What’s happened? Is it Jason?”
“Only indirectly,” Maddie said. “Come see for yourself. I’ll meet you around back.”
When Olivia arrived at the alley entrance, Maddie stood waiting in the open doorway. She locked the door behind them. Without a word, Maddie opened the kitchen laptop.
“I have a very, very bad feeling about this,” Olivia said, recognizing Binnie Sloan’s blog spot on the screen.
“You’ll feel worse after you read it,” Maddie said. “At least there aren’t any pictures.” The kitchen phone rang. “That’ll be doom calling,” Maddie said as she reached for the receiver. “I’ll negotiate our execution date. You read.”
Olivia took a couple deep breaths and read:
Our intrepid girl sleuths, Olivia Greyson and Maddie Briggs, are at it again. With her brother, Jason, in stir on a murder rap, Olivia has resorted to breaking the law herself to dig up (or conjure up?) evidence to clear him. Our paper, the weekly Chatter, has received an exclusive eyewitness report that Olivia and Maddie broke into the Chatterley Heights Dance Studio early this morning, while our handsome and mysterious Latin dance teacher, Raoul, prayed at St. Francis Catholic Church. Were the inseparable girl detectives looking for evidence . . . or were they planting it? We suspect they read too many Bobbsey Twins books as gullible children. Since Olivia returned to Chatterley Heights after years of big-city living, she has found herself mired in crime more than the average shop owner. So we have to wonder... What next? Check out the Weekly Chatter’s daily blog entries to keep up with the antics of our very own Nancy Drew and her sidekick, George. We welcome information and pay for photos.
As Olivia read through the piece again, her anxiety began to fade. She had an idea, or at least a crumb of an idea. She closed her eyes to let her mind chew on it for a while.
“How can you nap at a time like this?” Maddie flopped into a chair, ignoring the ringing phone. “I’ve answered four calls already. I’m going to tear that phone out of the wall in a minute.” Binnie’s blog entry was still on the laptop screen. Maddie snapped the lid closed to hide it. “Livie Greyson, we’re about to get sent up the river with your brother, and you . . . you are smiling. Explain yourself.”