Plum Deadly (15 page)

When everyone was settled in front, Maggie checked on Aunt Clara in the kitchen. She was humming as she made piecrust. Her aunt was the most positive person she had ever known. Uncle Fred had been that way too. Every cloud had a silver lining for them. There was always a good way of looking at everything.

“Aunt Clara, who owns the land the shops are on here?”

“Your Uncle Fred and I bought it years ago, before you were born. We thought it would be a good investment.”

Maggie could hardly believe her ears. “So you collect rent from the other shops?”

“Well, we started out that way. Saul pays regularly and
Raji does too. Donna is just getting started and those nice twins can’t really afford rent yet. I’m sure in time they’ll be able to pay something.”

“So you have money coming in from that too? Why didn’t I see that on your accounts?”

“I don’t know, Maggie. I guess because you were straightening out the accounts for the pie shop. You didn’t mention the other accounts.”

Maggie fluted the edges of the two piecrusts Aunt Clara had made and set to the side for baking. “That’s why Albert Mann is after
you
to sell. It doesn’t matter if Raji or Saul want to do it. All that matters is you.”

“I suppose so. You know I’ll never sell. Saul and Raji are safe with me.”

“Where does the rent money go?”

“Into the bank, of course. I haven’t even looked at that account since your uncle died. He always took care of that side of the business. I’ll check into that, Maggie.”

“What about paying taxes on the land?”

Aunt Clara looked at her blankly. “You know, I’ve wondered about that. I guess I kind of assumed that the land was paid for so I didn’t have to pay taxes on it like I do the house.”

Maggie was horrified. “We have to look this up right away. I’m amazed the city hasn’t already taken the property. Mann Development could find an easy way in by capitalizing on your unpaid taxes. And what bank has the rental funds?”

Uncle Fred had been dead for ten years. When Maggie went to the City of Durham’s website, she found that it had been five years since taxes had been paid on the shop property.
The amount, plus interest, was astonishing. They could lose everything just trying to catch it up.

There had to have been letters from the city that Aunt Clara must have ignored. She was surprised they hadn’t already foreclosed.

Maggie wasn’t sure what to do. Could she make a deal with the city to pay those back taxes in installments? She really needed a lawyer to give her some advice.

When she told Aunt Clara that they might have to talk to a lawyer, her aunt wasn’t upset at all. “Maggie, you should call Ralph Heinz. He’s a lawyer. I have his card here somewhere—maybe on the fridge. He’ll do what he can to help.”

Maggie looked at his business card, full of stains, edges curling, and went to call him. It couldn’t hurt to ask.

Mr. Heinz’s secretary said he wasn’t in but would call back later. Maggie put the phone down and wondered what else she could do. She could feel Albert Mann breathing down her neck, finding out at the same time that Aunt Clara owed a fortune in back taxes with no way to repay it.

She waited on a few more college students who were studying for an exam. The phone still didn’t ring. When it finally did, it was an order for three Popular Peach pies to go.

She was scrubbing the tables again when Ralph Heinz called back. Maggie explained the situation to him. Because he’d been her aunt and uncle’s attorney, as well as their friend for so many years, he said he’d check into it and get back with her.

By that time, the pie shop was busy again. Almost every table was full. Maggie was rushing again from table to counter
as Mr. Gino’s nephew delivered and installed the new refrigerator. He even took away the old one.

Aunt Clara exclaimed excitedly over the new appliance, running her hands over the larger shelves and double doors. Maggie helped her switch everything over then had to go back out and see to the customers.

An older man she’d seen here before was waiting at the register. He was a little on the plump side with graying hair and thick glasses. He introduced himself as Ralph Heinz. “Could we talk in private for a moment? I hope Clara is here too.”

Maggie led him into the kitchen, knowing this wasn’t good news. He was holding a large envelope that he opened when she went to get Aunt Clara from the alley where she was dropping off some trash.

“Ralph!” Aunt Clara washed her hands and dried them quickly. “It’s so good to see you!”

“You too, Clara.” He smiled and his face turned a little pink. “I’m sorry I’m always in and out so quickly. Let’s have lunch one day soon.”

“Ralph was a good friend of Fred’s,” Aunt Clara explained.

“I have some bad news for you, I’m afraid,” Ralph said. “The city won’t take less for the taxes than the amount owed. The taxes are so late, you understand. They get a little peeved when they’ve been caught with their pants down, so to speak. Someone should have seen this years ago.”

“What can we do?” Maggie asked.

“I’ve taken the liberty of having some papers drawn up.” He showed them the documents. “Clara’s house is up to
date on its taxes and she owns it. The city is willing to put a lien on that property to pay for the taxes on this one. Normally, a lien on the pie shop property would be enough. In this case, they won’t work with us on that.”

“We can’t do that,” Maggie whispered. “If you can’t pay it off, you’ll lose everything.”

Aunt Clara didn’t hesitate. She signed the documents and thanked Ralph Heinz. “No reason to get so dramatic. Something will come up. It always does.”

Ralph agreed with Maggie. “Are you sure about this, Clara? I can’t take it back once the paperwork is filed. It might be better to retire and keep your house.”

“Please, Aunt Clara—”

“File the papers, Ralph. Thank you for coming.” Clara went briskly back to work. “Maggie? I think you have a customer at the counter.”

A well-dressed woman was standing patiently at the counter as Maggie rushed out of the kitchen, her mind still whirling from this latest turn of events.

“Maggie Grady?” she inquired.

“Yes.” Maggie grabbed the coffeepot in one hand and the pitcher of sweet tea in the other. “I’m sorry there aren’t any chairs or tables right now. I’ll clean one for you as soon as someone leaves.”

“I’m not here for pie,” the other woman said. “I’m Lou Goldberg’s sister. I’m here to discuss what happened to him.”

T
he police say
you may have been the last person to see my brother alive.” Jane Isleb started talking as soon as Maggie found a chair for her and they sat down behind the counter. She occasionally dabbed her tears with a delicate pink handkerchief.

Maggie felt sure she must have met her at some event or other, even though she didn’t remember her. Jane wasn’t a remarkable woman. It was surprising considering Stan’s position at the bank. Most upper-level male management had gorgeous wives on their arms dripping in diamonds and wearing designer clothes. They always stood out at bank events.

Jane dressed simply, though Maggie knew her clothes were probably expensive. She wore her brown hair pulled back from her face. Her voice was cultured and wispy with just a hint of an accent from her hometown of Boston. She didn’t even stand out in the pie shop.

“I’m not really sure if I was the last one to see your brother alive. I’m sorry.” Maggie didn’t want to give her any false hope. “It was hours after I spoke with him that he ended up in back of the shop. He could have met with anyone during that time. I wish I could be more help.”

“I’d like you to be honest with me.” Jane stared hard into Maggie’s face. Maggie thought she saw a resemblance to Stan rather than Lou in her expression. “I’d like you to tell me exactly what Lou told you.”

Maggie excused herself to take coffee and tea refills to a few customers. One man ordered a Bountiful Blueberry pie to go. She boxed that up and took it to him. The woman who’d called earlier came in for the three Popular Peach pies she’d ordered.

She hated having to leave such a delicate conversation. Still, she had to work. It would’ve been better if Jane had set something up for later after the pie shop had closed. Running back and forth, talking about Lou’s final day on earth was a little awkward. Maggie could see Jane was suffering over the loss of her brother.

“Basically Lou told me that he knew who the real thief was at the bank,” Maggie told her guest when she sat down again. “He told me he’d get my job back for me and that he was sorry it had happened.”

Jane frowned. “No names? He didn’t tell you who was guilty?”

“I don’t want to speak ill of the dead,” Maggie said. “You know Lou loved a show. He said he was scheduling a press conference so everyone would know at the same time. I wish he’d told me. It would’ve made everything a lot easier. Maybe he wouldn’t have been killed.”

Jane smiled. “That’s Lou. He was a drama queen. I can almost hear him saying it. He loved the theater. I think he always imagined himself as just a player on a stage.”

She carefully wiped tears from the corners of her red-rimmed eyes again.

Maggie was uncomfortable with this conversation in a way that she hadn’t been with Stan. Jane had none of her husband’s arrogance. She’d made it clear that she wanted to talk about it, but it felt like it was from a sense of profound grief. “Did he mention any of this to you, Jane?”

“He talked about it nonstop almost from the first moment after he’d fired you. He never believed you took the money. He drove his wife crazy with it—she left him two weeks after you were gone. We both thought he was having an affair with you.”

“Stan told me that.” Maggie was even more uncomfortable. How could anyone think there was something going on between her and Lou? “Honestly, I never thought of him that way. I don’t think he had those feelings for me either.”

“He called me right before he came here and told me he was going to set things right.”

Maggie sighed. “Lou was a good man who wanted to
right a wrong. I wish he would have told me more while he was here. Instead, the police think I could have killed him. Crazy, huh?”

Jane immediately offered to help. “I’d be glad to tell the police what Lou told me about the theft, if that would help.”

“I don’t know if that would make any difference. Right now, I’m kind of in the clear on that. If that changes, I may need you. Thank you for offering.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

“Do you have any idea who Lou was talking about, the person who took the money?”

“I really don’t. I’m sorry. He called me on his way to the airport and said he’d figured it out. He said he was coming here to talk to you and he’d call back later. I never heard from him again. I guess he died with the secret.”

“I’m sorry I had to ask. It’s driving me crazy trying to figure it out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d like to know who framed me. I’d like to clear my name. Right now, everyone in Durham thinks I embezzled money and may have committed murder. I’m sure you can understand how I feel.”

“I do.” Jane bit her lip. “Lou had access to a lot of personal information about the people he worked with. I don’t know if you can find a way to duplicate that.”

“I know. I’m doing what I can with what I have. I also think knowing who framed me could tell us who killed Lou.”

“You mean that you think the thief from the bank killed Lou to keep him quiet?” Jane said it as though the idea hadn’t occurred to her.

“That’s exactly what I think. The killer followed Lou down here. He knew Lou was going to tell everyone the truth. He didn’t want that to happen because it would ruin his life. Makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Jane looked dazed. Maggie wondered if it crossed the other woman’s mind that her husband could be the person they were talking about. It would be difficult for Jane if she suspected her husband murdered her brother.

Maggie was called away again to check on her customers. It was getting close to closing time, which meant cleanup. She hated to push Jane out of the shop, but she had a hundred things to do and it was obvious Jane didn’t have any information she needed.

Jane must have felt the same way. When Maggie went back to tell her she would be in touch if she found out anything else, Jane was ready to go.

She gave Maggie a card with a cell phone number on it. “This is my number. Don’t call Stan. I don’t know what he’d think if he knew we were talking. He thinks you could have killed Lou too. Do you have a number where I could reach you?”

Maggie wrote the house number down on a napkin. “Do you think Stan might know who is behind all of this?”

Jane shrugged. “I don’t really know. I do know he doesn’t like the bank’s name involved in all of this. I think he’s more worried about the bank’s shareholders than what happened to my brother. I want this to be over so I can take Lou back home to be buried with our parents.”

Maggie watched Jane leave in the same car Stan had been in when he’d visited her house. She wondered if there
was something more about Stan that Jane didn’t want to say. The way she’d told her not to call him sounded more like a warning than just that he’d be upset with her. Was Jane suspicious of her husband at all?