Cookie Dough or Die (13 page)

“I wish I could help,” Olivia said. “I have no idea why Clarisse disapproved of Tammy.”

Maddie appeared, holding Lucas’s hand. “We’re out of here,” she said to Olivia. “Hey, Del, nice duds.”

“Right back at you, Maddie.” With a quick movement, Del pushed aside his shirt cuff and checked his watch. “I need to get back to the station. Cody gave up part of his Sunday so I could come to this gathering.”

So why
exactly
did you come?
Olivia thought but didn’t say.

“How about I walk you home, Livie?” Del stood and reached a hand toward her. “After all, I believe I am supposed to be your date.”

“You grab the cookies from the freezer,” Maddie said. “I’ll get out the mixer and start throwing together some royal icing. Ah, there’s nothing like decorating cookies to fire up the synapses.”

“The entire freezer is stuffed with undecorated cookies,” Olivia said.

“Get out the package of round ones. We can do anything we like with those.” Maddie whistled “Stars and Stripes Forever” while she yanked confectioners’ sugar and meringue powder off shelves and clattered through the measuring spoons. Pausing in the middle of the piccolo part, she said, “Note to shopping-list maker: we’re out of lemon extract. I’m using orange, unless you have serious reservations.”

“Orange is good.” Olivia unpacked the frozen cookies and placed them on racks to thaw. The stand mixer whirred, a sound that always gave her a warm, cozy feeling. She and her mother, whose energy and enthusiasm rivaled Maddie’s, had made dozens of holiday cookies together every year until Olivia left for college. The sharp sweetness of the orange extract, the sheen of royal icing, even the flour and confectioners’ sugar that dusted the table around the mixer—all of it brought back those safe, protected years of childhood, before marriage and divorce, before the suspicious death of a friend.

“I’m having brunch at my mom and stepdad’s house tomorrow,” Olivia said. “I was planning to ask Allan about Clarisse, but now I’m thinking he might have some insights about Hugh.”

“Such as?” Maddie was racing to divide the icing into lidded bowls so it wouldn’t dry out.

“Such as, how skilled a businessman is Hugh? Clarisse said once that each of her sons inherited part of Martin’s genius, but not all of it.”

“Clarisse was no slouch when it came to business,” Maddie said. “Bring over the food color gels, would you? You can start coloring, if you want.”

Olivia brought over some small bottles and arranged them in a spectrum of color next to the covered containers of icing. She selected her favorite, teal. She added one drop to a portion of icing and stirred, watching the blue-green color swirl and spread through the light buff icing.

“I wonder how well Clarisse understood her sons,” Olivia said.

Maddie collected a pile of pastry bags and a box of metal tips. “Where’s this leading?”

Olivia added one more drop of teal and stirred. “It occurred to me that we need to know about Clarisse’s will, and if she was planning to change it. I know that Martin’s will gave Clarisse control over all their businesses, with instructions that she equally involve both sons in running them. She had pulled back a bit in the past year to give Hugh and Edward more experience.”

“Clarisse was planning to retire? Hard to believe.” Maddie was already coloring her second container of icing a gentle peach, a dramatic contrast to the color she chose first, a rich burgundy.

Olivia tightened the lid on her teal icing. “I doubt she was thinking about retirement. I think she was testing them. That’s why I’m wondering about her will. What if she was planning to give one of her sons control over all the Chamberlain businesses, or at least the bigger ones?” She opened another icing container and added a drop of purple. “That would be a great motive for murder.”

“Lucas went to school with Hugh, and Edward is only two years younger. I could ask him what he thinks of them. I know he’s quiet, but he’s very observant.”

“Have I said he wasn’t?”

With an irritated sigh, Maddie said, “No, not you. Tammy made some comment to me about my being ‘so vibrant,’ like I was going to overwhelm poor, shy Lucas.”

“It might actually have been a compliment,” Olivia said. “In most circles, vibrant is considered a good thing.”

“Not in Tammy’s circle of one.”

“All righty, then.” Olivia twisted the lid back on her final contribution to the icing choices and started filling pastry bags.

“You can start piping if you want,” Maddie said. “I’ll make the flood icing.”

The whirring of the mixer discouraged conversation for a time. When it stopped, Maddie said, “You know what I’d like to know? I’d like to know why Clarisse disliked Tammy so much. I mean, aside from the obvious. I have to admit, she and Hugh are a good fit. He doesn’t appear to have a spine, and Tammy has at least two of them. If I’d been Clarisse, I’d have been relieved Hugh had found someone so strong willed. She’ll push him to succeed, you wait and see.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Olivia said. “Mom told me Clarisse did approve of Tammy before Jasmine came along. You’d think Clarisse would have been disappointed in Jasmine when she up and left. Tammy was the loyal one.”

Olivia finished piping the outline of a Yorkshire terrier on a round cookie. She put the bowl of brown icing back with the others and pulled up a chair to rest her back. “If Clarisse’s death was a suicide, which I still don’t accept, what might have led her to it?”

“Which was more important to her?” Maddie asked. “Her sons or her family businesses?”

Olivia wanted to say that of course Clarisse’s sons were her top priority, but could she? Clarisse had said little to her about Hugh and Edward. She’d often talked about her husband with admiration, even when she was recalling how he drove her crazy at times. But Hugh and Edward? Olivia wondered if Clarisse had loved her sons unreservedly, or if, ultimately, they had disappointed her.

 

 

“
A
Sunday evening well spent,” Olivia said. “I’m so glad we didn’t open a health food store.” “Here, here,” Maddie said, holding aloft her empty wineglass.

After decorating and boxing up all but a few of the cookies, they had retired to Olivia’s upstairs apartment for debriefing. They both slouched on the sofa, their bare feet resting on the coffee table, having consumed a plate of turkey sandwiches and several cookies. Spunky cuddled between them.

Olivia retrieved the merlot bottle from between her feet and refilled both their glasses. She lifted the cookie plate, now mostly crumbs. “Only one cookie left, and it’s Spunky. Shall we share him?”

At the sound of his name, Spunky’s head popped up.

“Sorry, kiddo,” Olivia said. “Cookies are not good for your tiny digestive system. I don’t intend to stay up all night nursing you.” As she snapped the cookie in half, one chunk broke off and fell on the sofa. Spunky grabbed it with his teeth and swallowed before Olivia could stop him.

“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.”