50% Off Murder (Good Buy Girls) (24 page)

Ginger’s shoulders started shaking harder, and Joanne was making panting noises that Maggie knew were her attempts at silent laughter, which only made her own cat-gagging noises worse.

“I’m going to pee my pants,” Ginger said between shoulder shakes, which only set Maggie and Joanne off again.

A door banged open in the hall and they all went still.

“Max!” Hugh bellowed.

“Yes, sir?” Max called from the front of the shop.

“There’s something wrong with my computer. Would you look at it?”

“Yes, sir,” he said. His voice was getting louder as he was walking toward them. “Could you, uh, watch the front while I do that?”

Hugh let out a sigh. “Sure. It’s just dishing ice cream. It’s not like I’m paying you to do brain surgery out there.”

Hugh’s footsteps got quiet. Maggie waited for Max to open the door, but he didn’t.

“What do we do now?” Ginger hissed.

Maggie could hear Joanne shifting in the back. She bumped Ginger, who knocked into Maggie, who banged into the door with a thud. They all held their breaths, but no one came.

“What are you doing?” Maggie whispered.

“Weg crum,” Joanne said.

“What?” Maggie and Ginger asked together.

They heard Joanne swallow, and then she said, “Leg cramp.”

“Are you eating?” Ginger asked. She was trapped with
her arms pinned to her sides, and she could just turn her head to get a glance at Joanne behind her.

“There’s a bag of marshmallows back here,” Joanne said. “I couldn’t resist.”

The doorknob turned with the sound of metal clicking into metal. Someone was opening the door.

Collectively, they all gasped and froze, as if the person opening the door would find it perfectly normal to see three grown women hiding in the supply cupboard if they weren’t moving.

Maggie was wondering how good of an impersonation of a can of hot fudge sauce she could do when the door opened and Max’s head appeared.

“What are you still doing here? Go!” he cried.

“Max!” Hugh called from in front.

Maggie sidled by Max with Ginger and Joanne hot on her heels. They were almost at the back door. She reached for the knob, quietly opened it and had just slipped through with Joanne and Ginger behind her when she glanced up and saw Summer Phillips standing right in front of her.

Summer was holding an enormous banana split. Maggie just had a chance to register her evil grin before the split
slammed into her face with an icy punch to the nose and a sticky splat to her temple. In the ice cream sundae wars, Maggie had just been TKO’d.

Max, however, felt no sympathy for her plight. He gave Ginger and Joanne a shove, which pushed Maggie face-first into the gloating Summer’s front bumper.

Summer leapt back with a shriek, but it was too late. Her turquoise, formfitting halter top was covered in whipped cream and fudge sauce. While Maggie used her fingers to scrape the banana and pineapple from her eyes, Ginger started bellowing at Summer and Joanne ran around the front of the building to grab a handful of napkins for Maggie.

As if Maggie’s humiliation was not complete, at that moment one of the sheriff department’s squad cars lurched into the parking lot and out stepped Sam Collins. She wondered if she were to lay down in the parking lot if she could be mistaken for a speed bump.

“Good afternoon, ladies.” Sam strode forward. Although, she had to blink the whipped cream off her lashes, Maggie could still see the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.

“It was a sneak attack,” Ginger said. “Summer snuck up on Maggie and nailed her with the banana split. It was premeditated. It was assault…”

“With a deadly banana?” Sam asked.

Maggie wanted to kick him in the shins or maybe a little higher.

Joanne thrust a handful of napkins at her, and Maggie tried to wipe the sticky mess off her face, but little bits of paper napkin just got stuck to the goo, making a bad situation worse.

“That was payback,” Summer said. “You cost me six hundred dollars in hair ex…accessories…”

“You mean extensions,” Ginger cut in. Her brown skin was flushed with anger, and she was clenching her fist as if she was about to take a swing at Summer.

“Ginger and Joanne, why don’t you go see if Max has a towel Maggie can use?” Sam asked.

They both looked at Maggie and dashed around the building in a sprint, confirming to Maggie that she looked even worse than she had supposed.

“Maggie, are you planning to press charges?” he asked her.

Much as Maggie loved the idea of having Summer locked up—oh, howdy, how she loved it!—she was honest enough to admit that she deserved the sundae smack-down at least a little.

“No, no charges,” she said.

Summer looked triumphant and Maggie almost took it back, but Sam cut in and said, “Perhaps, it is best if you go now, Summer.”

“If you say so, Sam,” she said. “You’re such a brave man to put yourself between me and someone who wants to cause me harm.”

She shook out her fake blonde hair and batted her false eyelashes at him. Maggie felt her gag reflex kick in, but luckily she didn’t actually puke. Summer sashayed away, making sure Sam got the best view of her posterior. Maggie was pleased to see that he didn’t notice her seductive stroll, and instead turned his gaze on Maggie. Apparently, he was not as taken in by Summer’s charms as she thought he was.
Hmm.

Sam squinted at her face and then reached forward with
a finger. Maggie was proud of herself for not flinching when he dabbed his finger against her temple. When he pulled his finger back, it had something red on it. Maggie’s eyes widened in alarm. Had Summer managed to cut her?

Sam popped his finger into his mouth and smiled.

“Raspberry sauce,” he said. “My favorite.”

“I hate you,” she said.

“Aw, what’s the matter?” he said. “Did Summer put you in a bad a la mode?”

Maggie closed her eyes, as if by sheer force of will she could make him disappear. When she opened her eyes, he was still there and he was laughing.

“I really, really hate you,” she said.

“Now, there’s no need to get all frosty,” he said. He doubled over, and Maggie had to fight the urge to dump a sundae on him.

Mercifully, Joanne and Ginger arrived with a wet towel, and Maggie was able to look away from Sam and start to scour off the ick that covered her.

“So, what brings you three to the Freeze?” he asked.

It was an innocuous question, and they could have bluffed their way out of it by saying they’d come for ice cream, but Joanne, a terrible liar by nature, turned bright red and began to stammer.

“Uh…we…uh,” she said.

“Had to get something from Max,” Ginger said. “You know, just a thing.”

Sam’s face grew serious, and he looked at Maggie as if he considered her the ringleader.

“So, a thing, huh?” he asked.

Maggie glared over her towel at the other two. Clearly,
these ladies were lacking in the fine art of keeping their lips zipped.

“Yeah,” she said. “Just, you know, a bill for services rendered.”

“Oh.” He nodded.

Just then the door opened, and Max popped his head out.

“Maggie, are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine, Max,” she said. “Don’t worry about me. Don’t you have customers to take care of?”

“Nah, having Hugh behind the counter scared everyone away.”

“So, Max,” Sam said, “I hear you’re charging for your legal services now.”

Max looked puzzled and Maggie took the opportunity to ball up her towel and fire it at his pie hole before he could utter a word.

Sam looked at her, and she said, “Thanks for the towel, Max. I’ll bring that bill over to Claire asap.”

Max lowered the towel and saw that Maggie was staring at him like a pointer dog at a fallen pheasant.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Right. Thanks.”

“Okay, well, this has been fun,” she said. “Gotta go shower now.”

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off by raising up a hand. “Stop. Whatever you’re about to say, just stop.”

He pressed his lips together and looked down.

Maggie turned and walked away from the Frosty Freeze with Ginger and Joanne flanking her, as good wingmen should.

“So, that’s it? You’re just going to make like a banana
and split?” Sam called after her. Obviously he just couldn’t contain himself. He sounded as if he were actually choking on his laughter.

Out of the corner of her eye, Maggie saw Ginger start to look back.

“No, don’t look!” she said. “Let’s try to maintain what little dignity we have left.”

“What about the e-mails?” Joanne whispered.

“Not here,” Maggie said. She clutched her purse a little closer to her side.

She knew Sam was too far away to hear them, but she couldn’t help being a little paranoid.

“But shouldn’t we give them to him?” Ginger asked.

“With Hugh right there?” Maggie turned and waved as they passed the front of the ice cream shop.

Hugh was standing in the Frosty Freeze frowning at them. He did not wave back. Probably, he thought they should buy an ice cream from him, but Maggie figured she had a built-in excuse, since Summer had ambushed her.

“Joanne, you go back to the deli. Don’t say anything to Michael until I give you the all clear. We don’t want Sam to find out what we did until I tell him. Okay?”

“What should I do?” Ginger asked.

“Go home and lay low,” Maggie said. “And the same thing goes for you. Don’t tell Roger anything. I know he and Sam are friends from their football days, and we can’t risk him blabbing.”

“What are you going to do?” Joanne asked.

“I’m going home to clean up,” Maggie said. “Then I’m going to make copies of these e-mails and turn them over to Sam.”

Both Ginger and Joanne looked at her as if they doubted her.

“What?” she asked.

“You hate Sam,” Ginger said. They had made their way down the sidewalk to the corner and paused before More than Meats, Joanne and Michael’s deli. “I have a hard time believing that you are willingly going to tell him anything.”

Maggie opened her mouth to argue, but she knew Ginger was right. She really didn’t see herself calling Sam willingly—ever, even with their current truce. That having been said, this was bigger than their past or her dislike. This was about Claire’s life and the possibility that she could get out of jail sooner rather than later. Like it or not, Maggie had no choice. She was going to have to tell Sam what they’d found.

“I don’t like it,” Maggie conceded. “But I’ll do the right thing.”

“Good,” Joanne said. “Because I am really bad at all of this. I’m going to have to avoid Michael all evening just to make sure I don’t blab.”

Maggie smiled at her. “I’ll text you both as soon as I give Sam the papers.”

Maggie gave Joanne an air hug, so that she didn’t get her sticky with sundae residue. Ginger gave Joanne a big squeeze, and they walked in the direction of Ginger’s house. Ginger turned down the side street that led to her historic house, and again Maggie offered up an air hug.

“Good luck,” Ginger said.

“Thanks,” Maggie blew out a breath and continued on around the square and down the side street that would lead to her neighborhood.

She was only a short way from her house when she noticed a car was slowly coming up behind her on the left. She didn’t want to turn, because she felt it would be betraying the fact that she knew she was being followed. No, she was going to try to play it cool.

With her heart pounding in her chest like a bass drum, she wondered if it was Hugh. Had he figured out what they’d done? Had Max blabbed? Was he coming to kill her, too?

She glanced up the street and wondered if she could outrun him, or if that would force his hand and he’d run her down with his car. Decisions, decisions.

“Maggie! Hey, Maggie!”

That was not Hugh Simpson’s voice. Maggie whipped her head around and saw Sam peering at her through the open passenger’s window from his spot in the driver’s seat of his squad car.

She stopped short and let out a relieved breath. Sam stopped the car to watch her.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “You look a little freaked out.”