“What can I do for you, Ms. Brown?”
“It’s Dr. Brown, actually, but please call me Carolee. Lindsay, right? My daughter and I help your sister out with Penelope. This is for you.” She handed me a platter covered in aluminum foil.
“Oh, Cat did mention you. I’m sorry. I’d invite you in, but —”
“Don’t even think about it. I wasn’t paying a visit. Just being the Cookie Lady. Welcome to Half Moon Bay.”
I thanked Carolee, and we exchanged a few more words before she said good-bye and got into her car. I stooped to pick up the morning paper, glancing at the front page on the way back to the bedroom. Sunny today, NASDAQ down ten points, Crescent Heights murder investigation still going nowhere. It was nearly impossible to believe that people had been murdered in this lovely place.
I told Joe about the slayings, then peeled the dome of aluminum foil off the platter.
“Chocolate-chip,” I announced. “From the Cookie Lady.”
“The Cookie Lady. Like the Easter Bunny?”
“I guess. Something like that.”
Joe was staring at me with that dreamy look of his.
“You look great in that. My shirt.”
“Thanks, big fella.”
“You look even better out of it.”
I grinned and put down the platter. Then I slowly unbuttoned Joe’s nice blue shirt and let it fall from my shoulders.
Chapter 35
“I USED TO HAVE a pig like this one,” Joe said as we leaned over the pigpen fence that evening.
“Come on! You’re from Queens.”
“There are backyards in Queens, Linds. Our pig’s name was Alphonse Pignole, and we fed him pasta and sautéed escarole topped off with a hit of Cinzano. Which he loved.”
“You’re making this up!”
“Nope.”
“What happened to him?”
“Ate him at one of our famous Molinari family pig roasts. With apple sauce.”
Joe saw the look of disbelief on my face.
“Okay, that part was a lie. When I went to college, Al got a great home in upstate New York. Let me show you something.”
He reached for a rake that was leaning against the pig house, and Penelope began grunting and woofling as soon as she saw it.
Joe grunted and woofled right back.
“Pig Latin,” he said, grinning over his shoulder.
He reached the rake over the fence and scratched Penelope’s back with it. She dropped to her knees and with a pleasurable groan rolled over onto her back and stuck her legs in the air.
“Your talents know no bounds,” I said. “By the way, I think you’re entitled to three wishes.”
Chapter 36