Olivia lifted the laptop lid and pointed to the screen. “This piece of journalistic tripe is probably libelous,” she said, “but it couldn’t be more perfect for us.” The phone began ringing again. “This could save us a lot of time.”
“Or waste it.” Maddie jumped up, took the ringing phone off the hook, and hung it up. Before it could ring again, she dropped the receiver on the table. “I learned about this so quickly because one of Lucas’s employees is hooked on that blog. She was checking it on her cell phone when that entry showed up. How does Binnie get away with this?”
Olivia got up and put the phone back on the hook. “I’ll deal with the calls in here. You keep track of your cell phone messages,” she said. “All part of the plan.”
“What plan?” Maddie was approaching hysteria.
The phone rang, and Olivia answered at once.
A strong, firm voice said, “Livie, it’s Constance Overton. Thought I’d give you a heads-up. I called the sheriff and told him there was no break-in, that I’d given you a key to the dance studio to check something out for me. He sounded quizzical until I played the wheelchair card—you know, poor me, can’t climb stairs and so on. I’ll let you know later how many dozen cookies you owe me.”
“It’s worth every pound of butter,” Olivia said. “Besides, it’ll be fun to watch you plump up.”
“Won’t happen,” Constance said. “My metabolism still thinks I play basketball. Good luck with whatever it is you and Maddie have gotten yourselves into this time. By the way, when do I get my key back?”
“If you can wait till tomorrow, I’ll deliver it with cookies,” Olivia said.
“Agreed.”
Olivia hung up and turned to Maddie, who was sucking on her lower lip and checking her messages. “Constance cleared us of breaking-and-entering charges,” Olivia said. “We owe her big time. And speaking of cookies, how many ballet ones do we have?”
“At least six dozen, maybe more,” Maddie said. “As you can see, I’ve been working off my jitters.” She waved her hand around the kitchen. Olivia had been so involved with immediate crises that she hadn’t noticed the piles of dirty baking pans and utensils. Maddie opened the refrigerator door to reveal stacks of covered cake pans. “I’m trying to get the icing to harden more quickly,” she said.
“Excellent,” Olivia said. “Put half of them around the sales floor as soon as you remind me how to post a response to Binnie’s blog. Oh, and would you ask Mom to come talk to me as soon as she can free herself from customers?”
“How about you tell me what’s going on here.” The color was returning to Maddie’s cheeks.
“Fair enough,” Olivia said. “We’re having a celebration right after closing tonight. A few select guests will be invited. I’ve asked Del to bring Jason here, but we’ll do this even if he refuses. I’m pretty sure that whoever killed Geoffrey King will be among our guests.”
“What’s to stop them from simply leaving town and disappearing?”
“After Binnie’s latest blog entry? That would be like painting ‘I’m guilty’ on their back. I think it’s more likely the killer might try to throw suspicion onto someone else.”
“Okay, I’m game. Let me get you started on that blog entry. Hit Binnie between the eyes for me.” Maddie opened the laptop and showed Olivia how to post a response. “Whatever you say, it’ll be around town in minutes. Everyone is glued to this blog. Look, two new posts just appeared.” She skimmed the entries. “Great, some high school kid is accusing his former physics teacher of the ‘town square massacre.’ Sounds like somebody should have studied for his physics final.” Maddie stood up. “All yours.” She arranged a tray of ballet cookies and headed to the sales floor.
Olivia’s post to Binnie’s blog was simple. She announced that Jason had been released due to new evidence gathered by the police, who expected to make an arrest very soon. The Gingerbread House, she said, would offer decorated ballerina cookies to well-wishers until closing at six p.m.
“Are you interruptible, Livie?” Ellie’s gentle face appeared around the edge of the kitchen door. “Maddie seems to think you have a plan that includes me. If it involves saving Jason, I will do anything.”
“I know, Mom. You’re probably the only one who could pull this off. I need you to convince Charlene and Charlie to come to The Gingerbread House after closing today. I’m hoping Del will agree to bring Jason here, since I’ve been spreading it around town that he is being released.”
Ellie pulled a handful of hair over her shoulder and began to braid the bottom half. “I see what you are doing, Livie, and I think it is dangerous. I know it works well in Agatha Christie novels when the detective gathers the suspects in one room and starts flinging accusations about, but this is the real world. Someone might get hurt. Oh, I wish Allan weren’t out of town.”
“Tomorrow morning, Jason will be transported to Circuit Court for arraignment. I don’t have time to wrench information out of the suspects one by one. I need to get everyone talking fast. This is the only way I can think of to make that happen.”
Olivia practiced patience while her mother unbraided her hair, then began again. Finally, Ellie tossed her hair over her shoulder and said, “I’ve got it. I know exactly how to get Charlene and Charlie to come here.”
“Just like that?” Olivia asked. “How?”
“Were you aware that not one single person showed up for Charlene’s first Healthy Eating Club meeting?”
“I’d forgotten all about that,” Olivia said. “And your point would be . . . ?”
“I’ll offer to help her get the club going. I can produce quite a number of friends, you know. While Charlene is feeling grateful and unsuspecting, I’ll ask her to bring Charlie and join us to welcome Jason home. Charlie will do anything Charlene tells him to do.”
“Clever. I appreciate the sacrifice.”
“Oh, it’s no sacrifice, Livie. You and Maddie will be going with me to the Healthy Eating Club. It will be such fun to spend time with both of you.” With a motherly kiss on Olivia’s forehead, Ellie said, “I’ll go talk to Charlene and Charlie right now. Be back in a jiffy.”
Olivia took time to visualize a sea of swirling blue icing before calling Heather Irwin. It was easy to convince Heather to drop by the store after closing for Jason’s homecoming. After nearly running Olivia down with her truck, Heather jumped at the chance to show goodwill.
Next Olivia called Constance Overton.
“Livie,” Constance said, “I was just thinking about you. And those cookies you owe me. . . .”
“Good, because I’m calling to put myself further in your debt. I’ll owe you cookies for the next decade.”
“Sounds delectable. What do you need?”
“I want Raoul Larssen to come here to the store after closing this evening. And I want him to bring his daughter, Valentina.”
“His daughter? You didn’t tell—”
“No time, Constance.” Olivia quickly summarized what she’d discovered at the dance studio. “At the very least, Valentina is a probable witness to King’s murder.”
“Well, I guess I could play the heavy,” Constance said, “and tell Raoul that I was ready to throw him out for breaking the terms of the lease, but you talked me out of it. Maybe you offered to pay the extra for the girl. I’ll strongly suggest they visit you this evening to shower you with thanks. Something along those lines.”
“That’s better than any idea I came up with. If they don’t show up, I’ll have to go to them. Thanks, Constance.”
“Sure. Only now I want more than cookies in exchange. I hear you got a nice inheritance recently.”
“You want my inheritance?”
“Don’t be silly,” Constance said. “I pull in a hundred thousand a year. No, I want you to make The Gingerbread House wheelchair accessible.”