50% Off Murder (Good Buy Girls) (28 page)

“Nice parking job, Gerber.” Summer sneered as she pointed out that Maggie’s car was almost on the white line that designated the parking spot.

“Really?” Maggie asked. “You’re reduced to harassing me about my parking?”

She moved around Summer, opened the back of the Volvo and started loading her bags in. She glanced at Summer’s hands. She still had her nails done in a deep crimson, an appropriate color for a killer, and her hands were large, almost man hands. Certainly, they were capable of plunging a cake knife into a man’s chest.

“So, tomorrow is the hearing for the poor little librarian,” Summer said. “I bet she gets put away for life.”

“That would certainly work out well for you, wouldn’t it?” Maggie asked. She slammed the back of her Volvo shut and glared at the bleached blonde in front of her.

Summer frowned at her. “What’s it got to do with me?”

“With the wrong person in jail, the police won’t arrest the real killer—you!” Maggie said.

Summer blinked at her. Then she tipped her head back and laughed. It was a raucous laugh that roared up from her belly and caused other people in the parking lot to turn and stare at them.

“You kill me, Gerber,” Summer said. She carefully wiped away the moisture from her eyes, so as not to smear her thick black eyeliner. “Why on earth would I have killed John Templeton?”

“Because you’re broke,” Maggie said.

Summer’s eyes widened, and Maggie continued. “Oh yeah, I know you’re busted, and John Templeton was slated for—what are you on now, husband number five or six? I’ve lost count.”

“So what if I was seeing Templeton?” Summer asked. “Your theory is stupid. Not a surprise, because why would I kill off the man I’m planning to have bankroll me? That’s just dumb.”

“I don’t know,” Maggie said. “Maybe he rejected you. Maybe he’s just not that into fake boobs and big hair, and you snapped and killed him.”

Summer’s nostrils flared. “The girls are not fake.”

“Oh
puleeze
,” Maggie said. “You can’t defy gravity at forty unless you have an assist.”

“Maybe
you
can’t,” Summer snapped back with a pointed look at Maggie’s chest.

“So, did you know that he used to know Claire?” she asked. “Is that why you chose the library? Or did you just have fond memories of the basement and thought you’d like to revisit it with a lover?”

“You’re mental,” Summer said.

“So, what happened? Did you get down there and he refused you, so you grabbed Claire’s knife and got him in the chest? Nice touch leaving Claire’s book by his side. Really, I didn’t think you had the brains to pull off such a frame up. But, of course, you didn’t, because you’re about to get caught.”

“I always knew you were weird,” Summer said. She stepped away from Maggie’s car as if she were backing away from a crazy person. “But now you’re just plain nuts. I didn’t know John knew the book geek, and I’m not a reader. I’m
more of a TV gal, so I certainly wouldn’t have a copy of one of her books. You know, you might want to have Dr. Franklin check you out, because you are losing it.”

She was so smug. Maggie watched her walk away and really wished she had conked her with the slab of beef.

Well, Summer could protest all she wanted, but the truth would come out. The information Maggie had gotten from Trudi that morning confirmed in her mind that Summer was the most likely candidate to have stabbed Templeton.

Maggie rushed home to unload the groceries. While she was there, Mrs. Kellerman from the dry cleaner called to tell her that Max’s suit was ready.

Maggie left Sandy to cook dinner while she hurried back into town. She wanted to get Max his suit as soon as possible so he could try it on and make sure it fit. Also, she wanted to stop by the jail and talk to Sam about her suspicions regarding Summer.

Maggie paid Mrs. Kellerman, who had done an amazing job with the tailoring and the cleaning. The suit looked brand new. Then she hung the suit carefully in the back of her car and headed over to the Frosty Freeze.

She didn’t see Hugh Simpson’s car, which was a relief. She no longer thought his e-mails, although shocking, were proof that he had murdered Templeton—not now that she had Summer Phillips in her sights.

Maggie waved to Max through the front window. There was no one in line for ice cream, so she signaled that she’d meet him by the back door. The door opened, and she handed him the plastic-wrapped suit on the wire hanger.

“Here you go,” she said. “Do you have a place to hang it? You don’t want it getting wrinkled.”

“I think I can hang it on the door to Hugh’s office,” he said.

Maggie followed him in—not to micromanage, she told herself—just to make sure he did it right.

“So, Max, I found out some news today that I think might help Claire,” she said as she followed him down the short hall.

“What?” he asked. His eyes were big beacons of hope.

“I think Summer Phillips may have killed Templeton.”

Max rolled his eyes. “Maggie, just because the woman slammed you with a banana split does not mean you can accuse her of murder.”

“No, listen. You were in the dressing room when I was talking to Trudi, but she said that Summer is broke and was going after Templeton to be her new sugar daddy.”

“Then why kill him?” Max turned the hook part of the wire hanger forty-five degrees and hung it over the top of the door.

Maggie ran her hand over the plastic covering, making sure the suit was smooth.

“Because he rejected her,” she said. “She’s a vicious, evil woman and probably couldn’t stand the rejection.”

“I think you’re reaching,” Max said. “What about the lack of prints on the cake knife? What about Claire’s book
The House of Mirth
being found beside the body? That was premeditated, with Claire being the object of the frame. Summer isn’t capable of that. I doubt she even reads.”

“Well, who do you think murdered Templeton?” Maggie asked.

“Well, I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve been busy trying to defend her, not solve the murder. Who is your next best suspect?”

“Whoever Claire loaned
The House of Mirth
to,” Maggie said. She sucked in a breath. Just like that it all came into focus. “The key is the book.”

“Brilliant deduction, Maggie,” a voice said from behind them. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to get there.”

Max and Maggie whipped around to find Gwen Morgan standing in the open back door, holding a very large, very lethal looking knife.

“Gwen,” Maggie said. “What are you doing?”

“Sadly, it appears I’m tying up loose ends,” she said. “I knew when you were in the Perk Up today that I’d said too much. I knew it as soon as I mentioned the book. Who else would know about the book but the killer?”

“You killed John Templeton,” Max said. His voice cracked, and Maggie knew he was as shocked as she was.

Gwen didn’t answer him. She didn’t have to. Maggie felt so stupid. Her hatred of Summer had blinded her to the real killer. She should have picked up on the fact that Gwen knew about the book. Sam had told her that the killer was probably a woman, and she knew from talking to Jay that Gwen had probably been working with John behind his back.

“Jay doesn’t know, does he?” Maggie asked. “You did a deal with Templeton behind his back.”

Gwen shrugged. “Jay is a child, a big, lovable child, and the realities of business are beyond him.”

“Why?” Maggie asked. “Why did you do it? Why did you frame Claire?”

“I should think it would be obvious,” Gwen said. “John demanded payment on the loan, we couldn’t afford it, so I did some…favors for him, but then even that wasn’t enough. He was going to take our shop.”

She sagged, looking suddenly very tired.

“So, you were the woman Templeton was fooling around with,” Maggie said. “Eva said she found a bra in his car.”

“Mine,” Gwen admitted. “I had no choice. Then, when Templeton called in the loan, I couldn’t tell Jay what I had done or what I had been doing. As for framing Claire, John had told me all about her. I knew when he was killed their past would come out, so I figured it was her or me. She was kind enough to leave her cake knife behind at the library. I used a plastic glove from the restaurant, and between that and the book, my setup was complete.”

They were all silent. Max kept opening and closing his mouth as if he couldn’t believe what was happening, and Maggie was trying desperately to think of a way out. There was none. Gwen had the knife. Gwen had the power.

“On the upside,” Gwen said. “I’m not really up for stabbing anyone again, so you two will just have to suffer an unfortunate accident.” Her eyes lit on the door to the walk-in freezer.

“Open it,” she said to Max.

He balked. “You can’t put us in there. We’ll freeze to death.”

Gwen gave him a look that said,
“Duh.”

“Wait. Give me your keys,” she said to Maggie. “I’m going to need to move your car. I wouldn’t want anyone to notice it and get suspicious too soon.”

Slowly, trying to buy time and think her way out of this, Maggie held out the keys. Gwen snatched them out of her dangling fingers.

She gestured with the knife for Max to open the door. Frosty air misted out at them when Max opened it.

“Get in,” Gwen said.

“No,” Maggie said. “Don’t do it, Max. She can’t stab both of us.”

“Can’t I?” Gwen asked. She did some complicated twirl thing with the knife, flipping it over the back of her hand, while never breaking eye contact with them. When she got done with her showmanship, the knife appeared a mere centimeter from Maggie’s nose.

“I used to work at Benihana,” Gwen said.

Maggie gulped, and when Max grabbed her sleeve and pulled her back into the freezer, she went. The door slammed shut behind them with a loud
thunk
.

“I don’t like closed-in spaces, Max,” Maggie said.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “There is a safety latch. Even if she locks it on the outside, we can get out. Let’s just wait a few minutes until she clears out.”

“Okay,” Maggie said.

She walked down the narrow aisle to the end of the freezer and back. She counted in her head to try and mark the time. Max, meanwhile, stayed near the door with his head cocked, as if trying to hear what was going on outside the steel door. When she hit the five-minute mark, Maggie
was ready. More than ready. The cold was beginning to seep into her bones, and she was shivering uncontrollably

“Let’s try to open it,” she said.

Max nodded and pressed the safety lever. The door moved, but barely. He tried it again. Nothing. He threw his full body weight against it. Still, it didn’t budge.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Gwen called in through the tiny crack. “I know about the safety latch, you see, and I can’t have you getting out, so I wedged a broom under the handle. And don’t worry, I locked up the Frosty Freeze for the night. You should remain undisturbed.”

Max and Maggie strained to listen, but all they heard was the sound of the back door closing.

“Oh my God!” Maggie said. “We’re going to freeze to death. She’s going to let us freeze to death.”

“Calm down, Maggie,” Max said. He sounded completely unconcerned. “We’ll find a way out of this.”

“Do you have a phone on you?” Maggie asked.

“No,” he admitted.

“We’re going to become human popsicles,” she said.

“Relax, it takes a while for hypothermia to set in,” Max said. He was running his hands over the tiny crack in the door as if looking for something.

“How long?” Maggie asked.

“That depends,” he said. “It sets in faster if you’re wet and it’s windy, but basically once your core body temperature is below ninety-five, you’re in trouble.”

Maggie’s teeth began to chatter, and she wasn’t sure if it was from fear or the freezing cold.

“I think this is all a case of leverage,” he said. He glanced around the freezer. “I need something metal and strong.”

Maggie looked at the shelves of ice cream cakes and tubs of flavored ice cream. “Like what?”

“A makeshift crowbar,” he said. “Here, help me.”

Max began to off-load ice cream tubs onto the floor. Maggie helped him. The huge five-gallon tubs were heavy and hard, but once the steel shelf was clear, Max was able to pull it from its fasteners.

He wedged one end into the tiny crack in the door and then began to pull, trying to pry it open. Maggie moved to stand beside him, and together they pulled using all of their body weight.

Maggie grunted, and Max said, “No, no noise. Focus all of your energy on the opening.”

“What are you, a labor coach?” she asked.

“On three,” he said. “One, two, three.”

They pulled, and Maggie could swear she felt the door move, but when she looked, there was no notable difference.

She sagged against the shelf.

“Again,” Max ordered.

Maggie let him be bossy, because at least the physical activity was warming her up. They tried again and again. Still, it didn’t feel as if they were making any progress.

“Max, there has to be another way,” Maggie said. She couldn’t feel the tips of her fingers, and she was pretty sure her lips were blue.