When the Cookie Crumbles (32 page)

Olivia nibbled on a running gingerbread man, iced with magenta and pink prison stripes, while she reviewed the tense meeting. She needed more information. Decorated cookies had such a relaxing effect on most people, maybe they would lower their guard. Unfortunately, the meeting was winding down, and no one felt like chatting. Then she thought of Binnie.

As Maddie repeated her cookie rounds, Olivia joined her. In a conversational tone, she said, “I heard a rumor the police are investigating Paine and Hermione’s years in England, now that they know about the assumed names. I guess the police are interested in any contacts they had with Chatterley Heights citizens.”

Olivia’s comment triggered a moment of suspended animation. Binnie broke the silence by saying, “Is that all you could get out of your boyfriend?”

“It sounds like normal background investigation to me,” Quill said. “If there were anything to find, we’d have heard about it by now.”

Olivia hesitated, pretending to search her memory. “I think the names were something like Sir Laurence and Lady Ariana.”

Karen’s cup clattered on its saucer. “That’s absurd. No one would fall for that.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Binnie said. “Karin.”

Bingo
. Olivia had guessed correctly. If anyone would think of hunting down personal information about suspects
on the Internet, it would be Binnie Sloan. Binnie might be obnoxious, but she was no fool. She’d come to the same conclusion Olivia and Maddie had. The actress named Karin Evensong—who’d played Doris, the betrayed wife, in the London play,
Malice and Teacakes
—was a twentyish Karen Evanson.

“This meeting is over,” Karen said. She plunked her half-drunk coffee on the metal table and reached for her expandable file.

“Now it’s getting interesting,” Quill said.

Mr. Willard gave the impression he was confused, but Olivia noticed his watchful eyes shift between Binnie and Karen. Smiling to herself, Binnie strolled toward the gingerbread houses. She stopped at the conjoined St. Francis/St. Alban’s Church and pretended to listen at the candy stained glass window on the Episcopalian side. “I think I hear music,” Binnie said. I wonder what…yes, of course. The congregation is singing.…” Binnie looked directly at Karen. “It’s the right time of day for
Evensong
, isn’t it,
Karin
?”

The only color remaining in Karen’s face came from artificial sources. Niggling discomfort made Olivia wish she hadn’t started what was turning into an all-out attack on Karen to the exclusion of other perfectly good suspects.

Ellie’s petite form appeared from behind the gingerbread bakery and candy store. She strolled over to join the group. “Karen dear, your mother and I had lovely talks about your exciting year studying art in Europe. I wish all young people could have an opportunity to live in another culture. It makes one so much more appreciative of differences, don’t you think?”

“Studying art,” Binnie sneered. “Yeah, right.”

“I studied art at the Sorbonne,” Karen said. “When the year ended, I went to London and tried out for a play. To my surprise, I got the part. I decided to use a stage name. It was all simply a lark.”

“I’ll bet it was.” Binnie rummaged in several pockets and produced her recorder, notebook, and pen. Switching on the recorder, she said, “Did your lark include continuing your torrid affair with Paine Chatterley?”

“Binnie Sloan, stop it this instant!” Ellie’s curt tone took Olivia back to one day in seventh grade, when she’d come home from school in a cranky mood and flung her backpack on a table. It smashed a porcelain indigo bunting, her ornithologist father’s first gift to her mother.

A stunned Binnie gaped at Ellie, which gave Olivia enough time to snatch the recorder and notebook from her slack grip. Since her tavern wench costume had no pockets, Olivia handed Binnie’s weapons of torture to Karen, who slipped them into the pockets of her blazer. Karen gave Ellie a startled yet grateful smile, then turned to Olivia. “Livie, I…” Karen’s eyes moistened, and she blinked rapidly to clear them. For a moment, Olivia noticed flecks of copper in her light eyes.

“Hey, that was illegal!” Binnie’s pudgy face reddened. “You saw that, Mr. Willard. They stole my equipment. This is a blatant attempt to muzzle the press.”

Mr. Willard’s long, bony fingers stroked his chin for a thoughtful moment. “I’m afraid,” he said, “that my eyes are not as reliable as they used to be.”

Quill snickered and said, “Deeply satisfying as this scene has been, Binnie does have a point. Don’t the citizens of Chatterley Heights have a right to know if our mayor has had an ongoing relationship with a murder victim?”

“I did no such thing,” Karen said. “As everyone in
Chatterley Heights seems to know, Paine took advantage of me when I was underage. I recovered and went on with my life. I never saw him again until he and Hermione arrived here last Tuesday. I didn’t even recognize him.”

With a sly smile, Binnie studied the gingerbread bakery and candy store, which had several cookie rosebushes in front. Olivia cringed as Binnie yanked up a pink and red rosebush by its royal icing roots and took a substantial bite.

Karen checked her watch. “I hereby declare the celebration committee disbanded,” she said. “I’m going home.”

“Not so fast.” Binnie pointed the remains of her cookie at Karen. “Last Wednesday evening, you spent nearly two hours inside Chatterley Mansion. You were renewing your affair with Paine, weren’t you? Poor old Hermione was probably sound asleep. She’s six or seven years older than Paine was, isn’t she? He married her because she had family money.” Binnie had done her homework.

Karen glanced toward the community center’s front door and hesitated. She reached inside her blazer pockets for the confiscated recorder and notebook. Handing them back to Binnie, she said, “I have nothing whatsoever to hide. Good night.” She strode toward the door.

“What happened, Ms. Mayor?” Binnie was beginning to sound desperate. As Karen reached for the doorknob, Binnie said, “Tell us what happened during that visit to the mansion, Karen, or we’ll have to assume the worst. Did Hermione walk in on you and Paine having a—”

“Nothing happened.” Karen spun around to glare at Binnie. “Paine never appeared. Hermione said he was asleep, which I assume meant passed out. I talked to Hermione about opening the mansion for the celebration. Period. And if you print anything else, I will sue you.
The
Weekly Chatter
will cease publication. Do I make myself clear?”

“You’re lying,” Binnie said.

“I don’t think she is.” As all eyes turned to Olivia, she added, “At least not about the meeting being amicable. I think there might be a compelling reason for Karen to have spent two hours with Hermione Chatterley.” Olivia knew she might be wrong, in which case she’d have started a lurid rumor, but it made sense as several pieces clicked into place. “Karen, you were adopted, weren’t you?”

Karen stiffened. “That’s ridiculous. My parents were living in Germany when I was born.”

Ellie said softly, “Livie, are you sure this is—”

“Yes, Mom. Karen, I know the story your parents told you, and you always believed it. Until last Wednesday evening. That’s when Hermione Chatterley told you she is your mother, wasn’t it?” Before Karen could respond, Olivia said, “Hermione carried a photo of an infant. I wondered if she and Paine had lost a baby, but…I think that baby was you, Karen. I wondered because of your eyes. They are such an unusual color. I’d never noticed before. They are amber, aren’t they? A rare color. Amber can look coppery or golden or light brown, depending on the light, so I didn’t put it together until now. Hermione’s eyes are the same color. And Hermione knew all about the play you were in, as if she’d kept track of you. I wondered why Hermione took the mansion off the market so quickly. I think she was worried you would be implicated in her husband’s death, and she wanted to stay to protect you.”

Karen’s shoulders drooped. Ellie walked over to her and guided her back to the group, clustered near the gingerbread village. “Why don’t you tell us the story, dear,” Ellie said. “You’ll feel better. And Binnie will be very quiet, won’t you, Binnie.” Ellie’s voice had a steel edge, and Binnie gave her a slight nod.

Maddie pushed the coffee and cookie cart closer. Karen accepted a fresh cup and began her story. “I had no idea I was adopted. I don’t think Hermione intended to tell me, but when I came to talk to her, she couldn’t help herself. She gave birth to me before she married Paine when she was just sixteen, the same age that Paine…anyway, her parents forced her to give me up. There was no formal adoption. Hermione’s parents simply gave me to a childless American couple, through an intermediary. As soon as she left home, Hermione hired a private detective to find me. That’s how she knew I lived on a farm near Chatterley Heights. She said she couldn’t believe her luck when she found out years later that Paine Chatterley was living in London.”

“Are you saying…?” Olivia remembered Hermione’s insistence that she always loved Paine. “Did Hermione seek out and marry Paine because she thought he could lead her to you because you lived in the town he was from? That sounds extreme.”

To Olivia’s surprise, Karen smiled. “It was a bit extreme,” she said in a gentler voice than Olivia had ever heard her use. “Though Hermione insisted she actually did fall in love with Paine. She said he was charming and attractive when he was young. She hated what he had become.”

Olivia thought of Hermione’s odd reaction to Aunt Sadie’s embroidered little boy in the mansion window, which Maddie had copied for the gingerbread mansion. Hermione must have known the little boy was Paine, though she’d pretended not to recognize him. But that little boy no longer resembled the bitter, manipulative man Paine had become.

“Hermione showed me the photo of me, taken right
after my birth,” Karen said. “Her parents weren’t in the hospital room at the time, and Hermione never told them about it. She never gave up hope that she would find me someday. She spent years trying to convince Paine to move back here, so she could find me again. He hated the idea until about six months ago, when all of a sudden he announced they should take back Chatterley Mansion, that they could live in it for free. They were destitute, you see. Paine was alcoholic, no longer able to work his scams, and several nasty people were after him.”

“Most intriguing.” Quill Latimer sipped his coffee, his eyes fixed on Karen’s face. “The two of you spoke for two hours. Can we assume that you told Hermione that her husband seduced you when you were sixteen?”

Quill’s question hung in the air like an airplane with a sputtering engine. Olivia’s thoughts tumbled chaotically as she tried to connect the dots. She suspected Hermione had told the convoluted story about Karen and the fictional Sir Laurence to distract Olivia from the close connection between herself and Karen.

“Karen,” Olivia said, “if Hermione knew where you lived, why didn’t she try to contact you earlier?”

“Oh, she explained all that.” Karen sounded more relaxed now that she’d told her story. She picked a red hot candy from the roof of the bakery and candy store. “Paine absolutely forbade Hermione from contacting me. He said he’d leave her if she brought me into their lives. He was trying to protect himself. He didn’t want her to find out what he’d done to me, her daughter. Hermione complied because she wanted him to bring her to Chatterley Heights. She didn’t know about Paine and me until I told her, but I didn’t do that until after he was dead.” Karen popped the red hot into her mouth.

“Couldn’t she have come to Chatterley Heights on her own?” Olivia asked.

Karen shook her head. “Hermione brought a tidy sum of money to the marriage, but Paine went through it almost immediately. She said Paine got involved with some shady characters to restore their finances. He couldn’t stand to be poor.”

Maddie refilled Karen’s coffee cup and asked, “Is that why they were using assumed names in London?”

Karen frowned. “Paine never talked to Hermione about his criminal activities. He said she was better off not knowing.”

The mood in the meeting room had lightened considerably. Even Quill joined in with the others as they tore shingles off gingerbread houses and cookie vegetation from iced lawns. Binnie ripped a hole in the bakery and candy store roof. She reached her entire arm inside and lifted out the little cookie plate piled with tiny cookies. A greedy sweet tooth had overtaken Binnie’s hunger for embarrassing information about her fellow citizens. At least for the moment.

Olivia poured herself another cup of coffee, adding generous portions of cream and sugar. Maddie sidled up to her and said, “Your brain is still crunching data, isn’t it?”

With a quick glance at the gingerbread village, Olivia whispered, “I’ve got lots of new information, but the pieces aren’t telling me who murdered Paine or why. It might be time to shake things up. Call my cell, like we talked about, and I’ll take it from there.”

“I can do that,” Maddie said. “Give me a few minutes, though. I want Lucas in on it, in case we have need of impressive muscles.”

As Olivia watched Maddie lead Lucas toward the kitchen,
she tried to sort out the information she needed. She lightly touched the bodice of her costume. Most of the questions on the list she and Maddie had brainstormed were now answered. As yet, two questions puzzled Olivia. Who was vandalizing the mansion, and for what reason? And did the Chatterley cookie-cutter collection play a role? She realized at once that the questions could be linked, and they came close to answering each other. Perhaps someone believed in the Chatterley collection and wanted it badly. Speed was important. The search might involve one person or more than one. If Hermione was involved, she wasn’t alone.

Matthew Fabrizio was least likely to care about cookie cutters, but the level of destruction in the mansion implied anger. Matthew was definitely angry. Rosemarie loved both antique cutters and Matthew. Quill was passionate about history. Karen…well, Karen had a newly revealed motive for murdering Paine: revenge. Olivia glanced at Karen, who was chatting with Ellie and nibbling on a chunk of periwinkle-iced gingerbread siding from the Chatterley Mansion. She looked more relaxed than she’d been for as long as Olivia had known her, but maybe she felt safe now. If Karen killed Paine, her devoted mother might try to take responsibility. But Hermione couldn’t have done it alone.