Where's Hansel and Gretel's Gingerbread House?: A Gabby Grimm Fairy Tale Mystery #2 by Sara M. Barton Page A

work
from original blueprints?” My father was curious.
    “As a matter of fact, I did.”
    “Amazing,” he responded. They examined the
construction of the gingerbread house. “Fairly ordinary. Not
particularly stable.”
    “Made by a baker, not someone who understands
construction,” I decided.
    “Someone didn’t know I made such an accurate
replica of the townhouse. You know, on the outside, it looks pretty
good, but on the inside, it’s a dismal failure.”
    “Too bad we can’t see the original interior,”
my father, the architectural designer, sighed.
    “Oh, but we can. Angelika wanted to see it,”
the gingerbread expert announced. “I took photos and emailed them
to my mother. I just need to sign onto my account and I can show
you the copy in my sent mailbox.”
    Half an hour and twenty photos later, I had
an appreciation of Nettie’s dedication to the task. It was clear
she had created a masterpiece. Where was it now? And why had it
been taken?
    “What’s the problem at work?” Suddenly
Gerhard wanted to know what the snafu was. My cousin explained
about the bids for Phase One and Phase Two. Lucky for her, Gerhard
was experienced in the construction trades, and he understood the
problem immediately. As they bantered back and forth, I found
myself wondering if all that work on the original was the reason it
was stolen.
    “Nettie, if you put all that effort into the
model, would someone have been able to get some kind of idea of the
problems with the concrete at 1423?”
    “I don’t follow you,” she told me.
    “Did you build it with ingredients that would
compare to the actual materials? Was there extra royal icing where
there would be concrete fortification? Did you have trusses where
the actual trusses would go?”
    “Yes, why?”
    “Maybe that’s the problem,” I decided. “It
was a little too accurate. It made you look like a very credible
witness, someone very knowledgeable about the 1423 project. Even if
the documents were stolen, your display would show that you very
much understood how it was constructed.”
    “Well, I did want to be an architect when I
was growing up,” she replied.
    “I never knew that,” I told my cousin. I
never really thought of her as someone that precise.
    “That concrete situation was a real mess. The
three top bids were all from companies known to have serious issues
with the quality of their product. Klinghoffer Concrete had
provided the mix for a six-story tower that developed cracks within
five years of completion. Tomasino Construction had been sued for
three projects that went over-budget by several million dollars
when the concrete had to be replaced on the footings. Zavaro Cement
was sued by the developer of Lincoln Park because the sidewalks all
crumbled during the first winter.”
    “In other words, the top three bidders
shouldn’t have had a chance to provide the concrete because of
failures?”
    “Exactly, Gabby. It doesn’t make sense that
the projects were so much above the original Phase One bids,
especially because the average increase isn’t that high. Why did
these three companies get the opportunity to bid? Those previous
problems should have kept them out of the running.”
    “It must involve kickbacks,” Gerhard
suggested. “Did you get a new boss?”
    “No, same boss. He’s got a new wife,
Christine. Boy, is she a pain in the ass. She’s spending money
faster than her husband can make it.”
    “Is that right?” Maybe the boss needed the
extra cash from the kickback to afford his new wife’s desire for
the good life.
    “Yes. His divorce was really ugly and it cost
him a pretty penny. His ex-wife was a doll. The new wife? Not so
much.”
    Was Mr. Frist expecting Annette to be called
as a witness against him? Maybe this was about destroying her
credibility as a potential witness by making her seem so
uninformed. Maybe someone wanted to knock her out of the running
before she could be tapped to testify.
    “Too bad the