“Sure thing.” Olivia followed her into the store. “Did we announce a fire sale? There must be a dozen customers in here already.”

“Thirteen, to be exact,” Maddie said. “And I can see more arriving. I’m guessing they’re curious to hear the latest about Clarisse’s death.”

“But why here?”

“Because,” Maddie said, “you and Clarisse were close, that’s why. If anybody has details, it’ll be her sons or you. Edward and Hugh will stay out of sight. You don’t have that option. You’re not in Baltimore anymore. But fear not, I’m right behind you.”

The moment Olivia appeared, customers flowed toward her like water through a sieve. She felt like a starlet who’d stopped in to ask for directions. However, unlike adoring fans, Chatterley Heights residents behaved with subtlety and restraint. Usually, anyway. She recognized every face, including several she’d never before seen inside The Gingerbread House.

For the next hour, customers vied for Olivia’s attention. Most of them bought something, if only a spatula or one of the less expensive cookie cutters, for the chance to talk to her for a minute. She tried to quell the most shocking rumors—especially the one that Clarisse was murdered by a motorcycle gang during a home invasion. When word spread through the store that, as far as Olivia knew, Clarisse’s death had been natural, the crowd began to shrink.

Olivia busied herself restocking shelves, while Maddie went straight for Lucas Ashford in the cookbook nook, which had once been a family dining room. A red plaid flannel shirt tucked into jeans draped Lucas’s strong, lean body. He appeared to be testing the weight of a gray marble rolling pin as if he thought it might be useful at a demolition site. Maddie was nuts about him. Her descriptions of him always included words such as “yummy,” but to Olivia, he was simply Lucas, the guy next door. When Maddie appeared at his side, he smiled down at her, and she touched his arm. A prick of sadness caught Olivia by surprise. She remembered those feelings.