“Spunky agrees with you,” Olivia said. “He is barking in the direction of the store next door. The store that is not the Heights Hardware.”

“Ah, The Vegetable Plate,” Maddie said. “Spunky is such a discerning little creature. Read me the rest of it.”

“Hm?”

“Charlene’s rant, Livie, what else does it say?”

“I think Spunky’s on to something,” Olivia said.

“Yes, we’ve established that. Now, I beg of you, read.”

“I thought I saw a light go on and off upstairs in The Vegetable Plate,” Olivia said. “Isn’t Charlene using the top floor for storage?”

“It’s six thirty in the morning. Charlene’s probably up there sharpening her fangs for a breakfast of raw rutabaga. Or maybe that’s where she keeps a secret stash of chocolate, or her printing press, or—”

“I don’t think so. Charlene’s car isn’t in her spot, and she lives fifteen miles out of town. Hush, Spunky,” Olivia commanded as she picked him up and tucked him into the circle of her arm. She unlocked the front door of The Gingerbread House and pushed the squirming dog into the foyer. Spunky spun around and leaped for the door, but Olivia managed to close it in time.

“Sorry, Kiddo, I’ll be right back.” As Olivia headed across the damp lawn toward the The Vegetable Plate, she realized her cell phone was squawking. “Maddie?”

“Who else would it be? What the heck is going on?”

“I’m sure you’re right and it’s nothing,” Olivia said, “but I’m going to peek through the display window of The Vegetable Plate, just to make sure everything looks normal.” Olivia glanced up at the top floor of the store and saw no lights. When she reached the front display window, she cupped her hands around her eyes and pressed her nose against the glass. The Vegetable Plate’s sales area occupied the former parlor of a modest Victorian summer home. Unlike The Gingerbread House, Charlene Critch’s store had no other windows scattered around the room, so Olivia could make out only the sales counter plus a few outlines of display tables.