Her cheer was less than enthusiastic, but Laurel let the comment slide. She asked her neighbor for a complete inventory of stolen items and Christina easily ticked the items off from memory. Olivia listened with interest, noting that the thieves had been very discriminating. The only jewelry they took was genuine gold or bore real gemstones.
Olivia couldn’t help but inquire. “Where did you keep your jewelry?”
“In a wooden jewelry box. It had a lock, but the thieves just stuck a screwdriver under the lid and snapped the whole mechanism off.” Christina’s lips tightened into a thin line. “I hardly expected to need a wall safe in this neighborhood.”
“So they didn’t just dump the contents into a sack?” Olivia continued.
“No, they were quite neat. The jewelry they didn’t want was placed back into the box. It makes me think they had plenty of time to sit here and calmly sift through our stuff.” Christina was growing angrier as the interview progressed. “I can replace the things they took, except for the artwork, so it’s not the financial loss that upsets me. It’s the thought of someone touching my things.” She looked away. “At night, I swear I can feel their presence. It’s as if they were still here. Having strangers in my house, picking and choosing, sitting on my bed, going through my closet . . . It’s hard not to feel like my entire home has been tainted.”
Laurel put her notebook aside and took Christina’s hand. “How awful! Did you install a security system afterward?”
Christina nodded. “Top of the line. I would have gotten a pack of pit bulls if my children didn’t have pet allergies.” She smiled wryly. “Between you and me though, I don’t believe lightning will strike twice. Those guys are long gone and our stuff is in some dingy pawnshop somewhere. End of story.”
Sensing the interview was drawing to a close, Laurel made a few more queries about the stolen art and then gestured around the room. “Your home is spotless! Do you use a cleaning service?”
“We have a woman who comes in once a week.” Christina’s look of pride turned to an affronted frown. “But she had nothing to do with this. She’s been with us for years and is absolutely trustworthy.”
Laurel held up her hands, palms facing out. “Oh, I didn’t mean to imply that she wasn’t. I’m just trying to establish a connection between the two area robberies. From what I read in the paper, similar items were taken from their home, so I was wondering if your two families shared a cleaning or lawn service or whether you’d recently hired the same electrician or plumber or another type of workman.”
Olivia felt like giving her friend a thumbs-up. Laurel was digging deeper by searching for a common denominator. At that moment, she seemed every inch the investigative reporter.
Christina was impressed by the question as well. “I can e-mail you a list,” she said. “There has to be some way the thieves knew the house would be empty that weekend. It’s worth a look. Thank you, Laurel.” She rose and began to walk toward the front door.
“I’d like to photograph that carving knife, if you don’t mind.” Olivia did her best to sound subservient. She knew that the Gazette readers would be interested in the description of the melted butter but suspected Christina wasn’t keen on having that detail publicized. Quickly, she added, “And a shot of you too. I want to capture your resilience and show people how this episode made you angry, but not fearful.”
Nodding, Christina led her guests to the kitchen and removed the knife from a drawer. She took the covered glass butter dish from the refrigerator and set it on the counter. Removing the lid, she eased the knife into the middle of the stick of butter. “I figure they set it up like this and then when the butter melted the knife fell to the side.” She turned to Laurel as Olivia focused her camera on the tableau. “They were so tidy elsewhere. They even cleaned up the glass from where they broke the pane in the back door.”
“Fastidious and particular,” Olivia mumbled.
Laurel walked to the picture window and peered out. “Were your neighbors home that weekend?”
Christina shrugged. “Yes, on both sides, but no one saw anything unusual.”
The women fell silent. The pewter-hued sky hung low, creating a sense that it was much later in the day. The mood had shifted and it was apparent each of the women longed to be alone with her thoughts.
Laurel wisely thanked Christina for her time, assuring her neighbor that she’d be in touch and to trust in the doggedness of the Oyster Bay Police Department’s chief.
Back in the Range Rover, Haviland carried on as though Olivia had been gone for hours. Once he finally settled down and Olivia was able to speak over his petulant yipping, she eyed Laurel keenly.
“You seem to have a plan.”
“I do. I’m going to interview the other robbery victims and look for connections. If I help solve the case, the Gazette will take me on as a staff writer for sure!”
Olivia considered the possibility of the former cheerleader cracking the investigation wide open and tried not to grin. After all, she could be witnessing the birth of a gritty and determined Laurel, and Olivia would do anything in her power to help her friend emerge from her suburban cocoon and soar into the open sky.
Driving to The Boot Top, the women exchanged thoughts and theories about the robbery. Olivia raised the possibility of comparing their findings with those in the Oyster Bay police file. “After we interview the other victim that is,” she added.
Laurel raised her brows. “I thought this was a one-time deal.”
Olivia shrugged. “I’ve decided to extend my offer.” Pulling into the restaurant’s parking lot, she reached across the passenger seat and grabbed the gift bag from the floor. “But you’re going to need this for when you truly strike out on your own.”
Her light blue eyes sparkling with delight, Laurel peeled back layers of tissue paper, exposing the digital camera Olivia had purchased from Best Buy.
“Oh! This makes me feel so official!” She sniffed and Olivia gave her a suspicious glance. She hated it when Laurel got overly physical. “You are a treasure! I really mean that!” Laurel cried. “Your joining the Bayside Book Writers has changed my life.”
Embarrassed by the compliment, Olivia slid out of the car. “You haven’t achieved job security yet, remember? Let’s save the toasts of gratitude for that moment.”
“I’m not talking about some silly job, Olivia. I’m talking about our friendship.” Laurel followed Olivia, smiling warmly. “It’s not easy to become friends with another woman who honestly wants the best for you. Usually, we women can’t escape our need to compete with each other. To fight about who’s prettier, richer, smarter. Who has cuter kids, a more devoted husband, the lower golf score . . .”
Olivia chuckled. “I’m disqualified from most of those categories, so don’t give me too much credit.”
Laurel put her hand on Olivia’s arm. “No, you’re not. You’re the smartest, most beautiful, most interesting woman I’ve ever met and yet, you see something in me. Me. Stay-at-home mom, former cheerleader, and romance reader. You believe that I can be whatever I choose to be.”
“I do,” Olivia answered and then tugged her friend forward. “Now that we’ve exchanged vows, let’s pick up a few apple sausage pies for you to take home. They heat up nicely and your husband will be delighted with the results of your first cooking class.”
Looking doubtful, Laurel paused to scratch Haviland’s neck. The poodle gave her a toothy grin in gratitude. “Apples and meat together? In a pie?”