“I blame the wine for slowing our reflexes,” Maddie said. “And speaking of cookies, what should we do with the remaining three dozen? I suppose we could put them out at the store on Tuesday, though we did go a little crazy with the color combinations. Customers might suspect we’d been drinking.”
“How about taking them to the food bank? I could drop them off on my way to brunch tomorrow. Polly was telling me—Polly Franz took over running the food bank—anyway, she’s been seeing more and more families that need food. I bet some parents would love to bring home some decorated cookies for their kids. “
“You, Livie Greyson, are a sensitive and thoughtful person,” Maddie said, “who stocks excellent wine for her friends.”
“And there’s plenty more where this came from.” Olivia emptied the remaining inch of wine into Maddie’s glass. “I’m not so sure about the ‘sensitive and thoughtful’ part, though. My recent record hasn’t been impressive. I did nothing to help Clarisse, and I had no idea what was going on with Tammy, friend of my childhood.”
“Not true,” said Maddie. “Go open another bottle of wine, and I will explain.”
When Olivia returned with the wine, Spunky was on Maddie’s lap, watching a lion stalk an antelope on the animal channel.
“I know it’s the natural cycle of life and all that,” Olivia said, “but I really can’t handle these shows.”
Maddie clicked off the television. “Precisely my point: you are sensitive. Although that was a bit wimpy. Anyway, remember what you told me when Bobby broke off his engagement with me, way back after we graduated from high school?”
“My memory only goes back about a month.”
“Okay then, as you might not recall, we’d planned a September wedding. Bobby went to DC for a summer job. I stayed here, worked as a waitress at the café, and planned the wedding. Bobby came back in August, announced he’d changed his mind about the wedding, turned right around, and moved to DC.”
“I do remember he’d met someone else,” Olivia said. “Only I don’t see how this—”
“Because, my impatient friend, we didn’t find out the truth until months later. Meanwhile, Bobby blamed me for the breakup. He said I was selfish and immature and not smart enough for him. Ha!” Maddie swept the fur back from over Spunky’s eyes. “What do you think, Spunks? Selfish and immature, okay maybe, but not smart enough? Please.”
“I’m not touching that one,” Olivia said.
“Anyway, after we found out he’d married some other girl, I kept right on blaming myself. You said to me, and I remember the exact words, ‘You can’t control another person’s agenda. You can only be clear about your own.”
“And my point was?”
With a soft laugh, Maddie said, “I don’t know, something about staying on your own side of the court and letting your opponents do the fumbling.”
“I would never have used a sports metaphor, and I’m not even sure that one makes sense.”
“I’m just saying, it meant something to me. I realized Bobby was the immature one. He couldn’t take responsibility for his behavior, so he blamed it all on me. It helped me move on to become the brilliant, successful businesswoman you see before you.”
Olivia felt relaxed and warmed from the inside by the wine, but her bare feet were chilled. She pulled an afghan off the back of the sofa and draped it over her legs. Spunky raised his head a notch. The blanket lured him over to his mistress’s lap, where he curled into a ball.
“Traitor,” Maddie said. She stretched a corner of the afghan over her own feet. “Livie, you observe more about people than you realize. You knew something was bothering Clarisse, but she didn’t invite your help, so you let her handle it. As for Tammy, you sensed a certain, shall we say, ongoing drama in her love life, and you kept your distance, as any sane person would do. Instead, you so wisely chose me as your best friend and business partner.” She raised her glass to Olivia.
“I’d drink to that,” Olivia said. “But if I do, I’ll never make it off this couch.”
“Lightweight,” Maddie said. “What time is it, anyway?”
“Exactly ten o’clock,” Olivia said, checking her cell. As if on cue, the phone in Olivia’s kitchen rang. “Who would . . .?” After the second ring, Olivia slid Spunky onto the sofa and hoisted to her feet. “That better not be Ryan.”
“I thought your number was unlisted and unpublished,” Maddie said.
“That would only slow Ryan down for a minute or two. He used to spend hours surfing the Internet. He could find my home number if he wanted to.”
Maddie crossed to the front window, which offered a view of the front stoop. “No one out front,” she said. “I could take care of him for you.”
“I really don’t want his head lopped off,” Olivia said.
“You never let me have any fun.”
“My ex-husband, my problem.”
Olivia heard a male voice when she answered the phone, but it didn’t belong to Ryan. “Ms. Greyson, my name is Aloysius Smythe. I am a longtime personal friend of Clarisse Chamberlain and also her attorney.”
“Oh?” Olivia held her hand over the receiver and whispered, “Clarisse’s attorney,” to Maddie.
“I do apologize for calling so late on a Sunday evening. I only now returned to my office, and, as you will see, time is of the essence. I am calling in my capacity as executor of Clarisse’s will. As you may or may not know, in her most recent will, Clarisse included a bequest for you, Ms. Greyson.”
“I had no idea,” Olivia said. “I’m speechless.”
The attorney chuckled, then cleared his throat. “The reason I am calling so late is to invite you to dinner tomorrow, Monday evening, at the Chamberlain home, following the reading of the will. It was Clarisse’s desire that you be included as family, so I do hope you are able to attend both events.”
“I can, as it happens, but I’m just very surprised. However, if Clarisse wanted me to be present . . .”
“She did, Ms. Greyson. And so do I. Seven o’clock, then,” he said. “Casual dress.”
Olivia replaced the receiver and turned to Maddie, who was bouncing on her toes with excitement. “Well,” Olivia said, “it seems that many of our questions about how Clarisse divided her estate will be answered within twenty-four hours.”
Chapter Ten
At six a.m. Monday morning, heavy, cold dew bent the grass in the Chatterley Heights town square. The iron gray dawn threatened a drenching soon, so Olivia had decided to sneak in a walk with Spunky. Through a break in the clouds, the rising sun spotlighted a black speck moving across the south end of the square, near Pete’s Diner. Spunky began to bark with all the intensity his tiny body could produce.
“Spunky, that’s enough,” Olivia said. “Reasonable people are still trying to sleep.” Olivia herself had awakened before five, with questions tumbling over each other in her mind. Sensing her restlessness, Spunky had insisted on exercise.
“Don’t make me come down there,” she said to Spunky. The threat failed. She gave up and watched as the black speck passed the band shell. It was fast approaching the statue of the town’s founding father, Frederick P. Chatterley, immortalized in the act of mounting his horse. When the creature reached the marble foot on which F. P. Chatterley had balanced for over two hundred years, it lifted its leg.
Olivia laughed out loud, while Spunky skittered about and whimpered with eagerness to see his pal, Buddy, the aforementioned black speck. A taller figure was following Buddy at a run. That would be Deputy Sheriff Cody Furlow. When Spunky pulled hard on his leash and yipped, the Lab changed course and loped directly at them.
Cody cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Don’t move.” At least, that’s what Olivia thought she’d heard. It made sense, in a way. If she and Spunky ran, Buddy would shift into chase mode. Anyway, Buddy traveled like a locomotive at full throttle, so the escape option was moot. Olivia stood her ground as the Lab drew closer. Spunky backed up a step but wagged his tail, which Olivia took as a good sign. It was. Buddy slowed down to a trot, then stooped down to exchange sniffs with Spunky.