outside, and hastily shut it behind her. She was wearing a pink short-sleeved sweater set, an apron covered with designs of cupcakes, and a look of panic.
“My in-laws came over to watch the twins,” she whispered in warning. Grabbing Olivia’s hand, she pulled her toward the Range Rover. “Just get us out of here as quickly as you can. I’ll give you directions once we’re clear.”
Obeying Laurel’s request with amusement, Olivia reversed the SUV. As she glanced in the rearview mirror, she noted that her friend was busy removing her apron. “You’re even wearing a disguise,” she teased. “Does this mean you need to be dropped off later on bearing a souffle or beef Wellington?”
“Oh, I don’t think it needs to be anything
Olivia laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. Where to?”
Laurel fastened her honey blond hair into a neat French twist. “Turn right onto Mulberry Way.”
“Is every street named after a berry?” Olivia quickly made a mental list of how many berry plants she knew.
“Yes. Isn’t it quaint?” Laurel smiled with pride. “But I am
Olivia declined to point out that Laurel’s street, Cranberry Court, was equally inane. Instead, she asked to be given a bit of background on the neighbor they were about to interview.
“Christina Quimby is a stay-at-home mom, president of the Oyster Bay Elementary PTA, and treasurer of our homeowner’s association. She plays tennis in a year-round league and
“Where was the family when the burglary occurred?”
“I asked her that question when we set up this interview.” Laurel consulted a notebook. “Let’s see. They went to a football game in Chapel Hill over the weekend and discovered they’d been robbed after returning home. That was the last Sunday in August.” She tapped on her window. “That’s their house up ahead on the right.”
Olivia parked in front of a spacious brick Georgian and told Haviland he’d have to wait in the Range Rover. The poodle began to whimper but perked up when his mistress poured a small pile of treats into the cup holder in the center console.
“Your water dish is in the back,” she told him, double-checking to ensure that all the windows were down. “Have plenty to drink. I don’t know how long we’ll be inside.”
Haviland grunted in assent.
Laurel checked her image in the side mirror and then squared her shoulders. “Here we go!”
Christina Quimby was a tall, athletic blond with the tan and premature wrinkles indicative of someone who either spent a great deal of time outdoors or paid regular visits to a tanning salon. She was dressed in a white tennis skirt, lime green shirt, and a matching visor embroidered with the Nike swoosh. After offering them iced coffee, she led them to a living room redolent with the scents of furniture polish and Windex.
Laurel politely declined refreshments and sat on the edge of a floral wing chair, her expression all business. “I know you’ve discussed the robbery at length with the police, but could you tell us what happened? Starting from the moment you and your family entered the house?”
Christina pointed toward the kitchen. “We came inside through the garage like we always do. No one noticed anything unusual right away, but as the kids headed to their rooms with their overnight bags, I saw the butter dish sitting out next to the kitchen sink.”
“And you’re certain someone in your family didn’t forget to put it back in the fridge before you left?” Laurel asked, clearly surprised by how Christina was starting her narrative.
“Absolutely sure. I was the last one out the door and I always leave everything in order. Plants watered, bills paid, everything,” Christina stated firmly and Olivia didn’t doubt it for a moment. Every object within sight had been arranged with scientific precision. None of the many glass-topped tables bore a single smudge, and the brass picture frames were polished to a high luster. “The butter had melted all over and there were ants everywhere!” Christina continued, shuddering slightly in distaste. “Besides, no one in my family would use a carving knife to cut butter. Can you imagine?”
Laurel and Olivia exchanged glances and then the new reporter focused on the questions written in her notebook. “What missing possessions did you notice first?”
“The television in our bedroom.” Christina rose, walked across the room, and opened a pair of cabinet doors in the center of the built-in bookcases, revealing an enormous flat-screen TV. “This one was more expensive, but we always close these doors after we’re done watching a show, so we didn’t realize this TV was gone until later. We haven’t received the insurance check yet, but my husband couldn’t wait to replace the set. It’s football season and if he’s actually around on a Saturday, he plants himself on the sofa from noon ’til midnight. Go Heels!”
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
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
