Refreshments will be served: herbal teas and fresh organic vegetables.

Olivia reached into the pocket of her shorts, slid out her cell, and speed-dialed Maddie Briggs. Maddie answered on the second ring and, as usual, began chattering at once. “Hey, I was thinking, wouldn’t it be fun to have an early morning store event and serve breakfast cookies?”

“Breakfast . . .”

“Cookies, right. Like egg-shaped cookies, wavy slices of bacon, toast and sweet rolls and sausage links and coffee cups and—”

“Got it,” Olivia said. “Don’t forget the slices of cold pizza.” She had recently acknowledged her addiction to pizza for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and bedtime snacks. As of yet, she hadn’t determined whether any intervention was called for. “And empty merlot bottles,” she added. “They were all over my kitchen this morning.”

“Ouch, don’t remind me,” Maddie said. “So shall we bake today? We have that nice new freezer to fill, and I long to wield a rolling pin once more.”

“First, you need to get right over here and take a look at The Gingerbread House lawn,” Olivia said. “It might make you want to wield that rolling pin for another purpose.”

“Intriguing,” Maddie said. “What’s up?”

“Something odd and disturbing. You’ll want to read it for yourself.”

“Read? Did someone spray-paint naughty words on the grass? Read them to me. You can abbreviate if you’re embarrassed.” When Olivia hesitated, Maddie added, “Right now, Livie. As in this instant. I’m dying of curiosity here.”

Olivia brushed dew-limp hair off her forehead with the back of her hand. “Not spray paint. Paper. The lawn is covered with balled-up paper notices. I’m holding one of them. The two-word heading is ‘Sugar Kills,’ which ought to give you the general idea. And I bet I can guess who wrote it.”

“Charlene Critch, rhymes with—” A fierce round of Yorkie yapping drowned out Maddie’s voice.