A Catered Christmas Cookie Exchange by Isis Crawford

Author:Isis Crawford
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2013-10-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

It took the sisters ten minutes to get to Rose Olsen’s house.

“I think I like her house the best,” Libby said when she spotted the wooden bungalow with the wraparound porch that Rose called home.

“Her garden is amazing,” Bernie observed. She’d been there last spring to deliver ten cheesecakes and three trays of assorted cookies for one of Rose’s open houses and had been blown away by Rose’s inventive use of the wild grasses lining the path up to the house, as well as the way Rose had combined foundation plantings and a perennial garden.

“Rose really does love her plants,” Bernie said as she was debating whether to park on the street or in Rose’s driveway. “Someone told me she had a greenhouse built in her backyard. Maybe we should do something like that.”

Libby was just about to remind her sister that she had a black thumb when she saw Rose’s garage door open and Rose’s vehicle come flying down the driveway in reverse. “Damn,” she said as she watched Rose reach the street, take a hard right, and speed down Danbury Road.

“This definitely sucks,” Bernie agreed as she tracked the taillights on Rose’s vehicle disappearing around the bend. “She’s a better driver than I thought. And a faster one.”

“I wonder what’s going on,” Libby murmured. Somehow, Rose didn’t strike her as the kind of person to go running off someplace. Especially given her age and the time of night, but obviously she was wrong.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Bernie said, and with that she drove into Rose’s driveway, made a right, and went after Rose.

“You know we’re never going to catch her,” Libby observed. Rose’s vehicle could go at least eighty miles an hour easy, probably more, while Mathilda could make it to fifty at the very most. And she didn’t like doing that for very long.

“Oh ye of little faith,” Bernie retorted. “Even if we don’t catch her, maybe we’ll be able to figure out where she’s going.”

Libby grabbed for the strap and held on tight. “I wonder if she saw us parking. I wonder if that’s why she jetted out of her house.”

Bernie shook her head. “Because she didn’t want to talk to us? I doubt it. She was probably in the garage by the time we pulled up.”

“Although there are windows on the garage door,” Libby pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter,” Bernie said. “The angle is wrong.”

“Maybe it’s some sort of domestic emergency,” Libby suggested.

“Maybe,” Bernie said automatically. She was concentrating on her driving and only half listening to what Libby said.

“Or maybe,” Libby continued, “Alma called her and told her we were coming to talk to her.”

Bernie grunted.

“Of course,” Libby went on, “Alma did just point us in her direction.”

“Yeah, but I bet Alma didn’t tell her that,” Bernie said as she got to the end of Danbury. She could see Rose’s silver vehicle under the streetlights in the distance. She’d taken a left and was about half a block away. “I think she’s heading for Twelve Corners, Libby.

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