“Here we go,” she murmured to Piper under her breath. “Entering theden of iniquity.”
“Don’t be a smart-ass,” Piper muttered back.
“Come on in,” Richard called from the foyer.
“Thank you so much, Mr. and Mrs. Davis, for making time to see us.” Kiersten handed Margaret a plate of brownies she’d baked from scratch that morning. She’d decided she couldn’t make brownies from a box for a woman whose recipes had sold a billion cookbooks. Margaretwouldknow... she probably had a sixth sense for lazy baked goods containing maltodextrin and riboflavin.
The old couple led them to a kitchen table in an alcove overlooking a spacious backyard. Outside, birds darted from leafless November trees to the feeders beside the patio.
Inside, pictures of Trey and Aspen’s two little girls hung from the refrigerator beside childishly misshapen drawings of houses, unicorns, and flowers.
“I made a fresh pot of coffee,” Margaret said, gesturing to the kitchen table laid with a silver coffee pot, and delicate china cups and saucers. “And a pecan pie. Do you prefer ice cream or whipped cream?”
People didn’t entertain like this anymore, Kiersten thought, remembering the first time she’d had Piper and Rosamund over to her house, and how they’d eaten pizza from a box chased with water from red Solo cups.
“I’d love some coffee,” Kiersten said. “And I can’t say no to pie with ice cream.” She’d work off the calories later with Reggie.
“It’s real whipped cream,” Margaret said. “Not that stuff you buy at the grocery store.”
“Well, in that case ...” Kiersten amended. “I’d love pecan pie with whipped cream.”
“Me too,” Piper added. “Thank you.”
Margaret handed them coffee cups, plus cream and sugar in matching china containers.
They sipped their coffee, ate their delicious pie, and discussed Margaret’s recent cataract surgery, hot-water heaters, traffic on Fort Hunt Road, and the fact that you could find both Advent candlesandpoker chips at the neighborhood variety store down the street.
Kiersten got the impression that the old couple could happily have visited with them for hours. They seemed a little lonely, even with their son and grandson right next door.
She glanced at Piper, who darted a meaningful look at the clock.
Kiersten cleared her throat and managed to steer their meandering conversation back to the reason for their visit. “So we’re here today because we need your help.”
A slamming door and a thumping noise behind the kitchen interrupted her words. A few moments later, Chip entered the room.
“Good morning, ladies.” He flashed a smile as he pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table. “I just popped over to make sure my parents are staying out of trouble.”
“They’re delightful,” Kiersten said truthfully. “And as I said last night at dinner, I’m hoping they can help me track down the rightful owner of the diaries I found in my basement. It’s kind of a mystery.”
“A mystery!” Richard pushed away his empty pie plate. “We’d be happy to help.”
Kiersten removed Dottie’s diary from the pouch in her sweatshirt and pushed it across the table. “I found them hidden inside some old encyclopedias. Someone donated them to a garage sale here on Beaverbrook about ten years ago. But no one purchased them, so they’ve been sitting in my basement ever since.”
Richard gently picked up the diary and opened it, brushing his fingers over the page as he and Margaret squinted down at the handwriting.
“The lady who wrote them is interesting.” Kiersten resisted the urge to help herself to a second piece of pie. “Her father owned a car dealership in this area, and she was a newlywed. Her name was Dottie, and her husband was Dickie. Dottie and Dickie. Does that ring any bells?”
Richard’s hand trembled slightly as he turned the pages, but his expression didn’t change as he stared down at the diary.
After a short silence, he looked up at Kiersten. “It doesn’t ring any bells. I’m sorry.”
“How many did you find?” Chip asked.
“Three diaries,” Kiersten said. “Plus some cash. The others are back at the house.”
“Well, we’d be happy to read through it and see if anything strikes us.” Richard clutched the volume in his age-spotted hands.
“That would be really helpful,” Kiersten said. “I’m not getting very far with just a first name to go on.”
