Plum Deadly (26 page)

Maggie followed her there. She understood how Albert Mann knew about her innocence in stealing from the bank. How did he know she was sending out her résumé? The man obviously had friends in low places, one of them being Claudia. It made her wonder if the job was actually legitimate or a hoax to get her to leave.

Either way, she was glad she hadn’t fallen for it.

“I’m sorry about that.” Maggie hugged her aunt. “You know I’m not leaving.”

“I know. I hope you aren’t sorry. I hope you don’t lose your dreams.”

“I’m going to find them right here. I love you, Aunt Clara. We have to stick together. I have to be able to tell the secret piecrust recipe to another generation, right? It’s all going to work out.”

Clara smiled through her tears. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy, honey. If you can be happy here, I’m thrilled.”

They were still hugging each other when Ryan ventured into the kitchen. “I poured some coffee for a customer up front and spilled some on the floor. Sorry. I was trying to help. I thought you two could use some time alone together. I’ll mop it up.”

Maggie smiled and wiped away her tears. “That’s okay. I’ll get it.”

After the coffee spill was contained, Maggie checked with her customers for refills, then sat behind the counter with Ryan again.

“You know, I was so sure that when we found the person who took the money, we’d find the killer,” she said. “I feel kind of let down. Who killed Lou if Stan didn’t?”

“Maybe Ron.” Ryan shrugged. “I don’t know. Frank will find out. He’s done a good job so far.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“So, if you’re planning to stay in Durham, does that mean we can keep seeing each other?”

“I hope so.” She smiled at him. “I’d like that.”

He kissed her quickly. A customer had come up to pay her bill at the counter. She giggled when she saw them.

Maggie took the student’s money and rang up the next customer. Ryan had to leave. There was a special city meeting he had to attend.

That left Maggie cleaning tables and wondering how much money the bank would give her for compensation. She hoped it would be enough to do some renovations to the pie shop and the house—and maybe buy an espresso machine.

She couldn’t help but think about Lou again as she cleaned the table where they’d sat on the day he had died. He’d known he could be in danger. He’d even said they would both be safe after the press conference.

Someone had already taken that safety from him. He hadn’t known it yet when they were together. She wished there would’ve been some way to save him.

Aunt Clara’s prediction about the pie shop being busy all day because of the rain turned out to be accurate. At lunchtime, they had to make twelve more Pumpkin Pizzazz pies. They ran out of whipped cream and Maggie offered to walk down to the grocery store and get some. Mr. Gino was a good supplier, but his price for extra deliveries could be quite high.

“I’ll pick up something special for lunch while I’m down that way,” Maggie volunteered. “I’m craving Italian and there’s that little restaurant next door to the grocery store. How does that sound to you?”

“That sounds fine.” She gave Maggie her bank card. “I should’ve given you cash for your salary. You don’t even have a bank account.”

“That’s okay. I’ll open one. There’s that bank kiosk next to the newspaper office. I’ll have to go to a branch and open
the account—that should be a convenient location in the future.”

Aunt Clara laughed. “Especially since you’ll be spending a lot of time at the newspaper office.”

“Maybe. Ryan is here a lot too. And what about you and Garrett? How’s that working out?”

“I don’t know yet. He’s a very stubborn man.” Aunt Clara leaned against the cabinet and winked her eye. “I may have met a new gentleman at the library. Only time will tell.”

Maggie was thrilled that her aunt had taken her advice about dating. She wanted her to be happy.

Saying she’d be back as soon as she could, Maggie started toward the grocery store a few blocks away, a smile on her face as she walked. Everything seemed so right. She knew what she was doing, and had plans for the future again. Life was good.

When she reached the intersection, the pedestrian crossing was displaying the Do Not Walk sign. Since there were no cars coming from the side street, and traffic was slow on the main road, she stepped into the road and started across.

An approaching car revved its engine loudly and she looked down the street, surprised as it raced toward her.

She moved quickly across the street, but the car followed her—and she realized that it was deliberately coming right at her!

Panicking, she ran for the sidewalk as fast as she could. The pavement was badly broken at that spot and dipped down, giving Maggie the precious few seconds extra that she needed.

Spotting a narrow passage between a small building and a large metal fence, she jumped into the space and ran through it, losing her footing and falling to the ground as the car bumped up over the curb.

The car rammed the entrance to the space a second later, unable to fit inside it. After gunning the engine uselessly a few times, the driver finally backed out and raced away.

Her teeth chattering with shock and fear, Maggie couldn’t move. She’d skinned her knees and torn her jeans; her palms and the side of her face were cut too.

Someone had deliberately tried to run her down!

Realizing that, she forced herself to move. She was terrified to leave the temporary shelter she’d found, but what if the driver returned?

What if the person came back without the car?

She wasn’t safe here.

Holding her cell phone under one of the eaves from the old store to keep it dry, she dialed Ryan’s number. There was no answer. Of course, he had his phone off during the meeting.

Maggie still had Frank’s phone number in her pocket. She prayed that he’d answer.

“Detective Frank Waters.”

“Frank. It’s Maggie. I’ve had an accident. Well, I don’t really think it was an accident. I think someone just tried to kill me. Ryan’s at a meeting. Could you send someone?”

“Have you tried 911?”

“No. Sorry. I didn’t think of that.”

He grunted. “Sit tight. I’ll be right there.”

A few minutes later, Frank was getting out of his car. “What the hell happened here, Maggie? You should’ve told me this was a hit-and-run.” He took out his phone to call an ambulance. “People need to learn the codes.”

“Sorry.” Her teeth were chattering almost too much to speak. “I didn’t know what to call it. It was crazy. I tried to get away. The car kept following me.”

“Never mind,” he growled, offering her a hand up. “Did you see where the car went or the license plate?”

“No. Sorry. I was too scared.”

The paramedics arrived a few minutes later, along with another police car.

They bandaged her knees, hands, and head while she explained what had happened to Frank and the uniformed officers. She refused to be transported to the hospital.

“I’m fine. Just a little banged up. Thank you anyway.” She signed the form they gave her agreeing that she had refused the trip.

Maggie sat with Frank in his car as he filled out paperwork about the incident. He’d sent the other police car away. A crime scene van had taken its place. Workers were taking paint samples from the fence and the side of the old store, hoping to figure out what the car looked like that had tried to run her down.

“I know you said the car was a dark color,” Frank said. “You think it’s a late model. Not sure on the make. How about the driver?”

Maggie thought back to the frightening experience. “I don’t know. I couldn’t see who was driving, even though they were close to me.”

“Probably tinted windows. It makes it hard to see inside. Anything else you might have noticed?”

“No. I guess I was too scared. First I was surprised when I realized it was coming after me. I wasn’t sure what to do.”

He wrote down what she’d said. “Any ideas on who might want to kill you?”

“Maybe Albert Mann or Mark Beck. Mark is as devoted to Mann as Ron is to Stan.” She told him about their visit to the pie shop that morning. “Although that wasn’t Mann’s car.”

“It would be doubtful that someone like Mann would do it himself anyway,” Frank said. “I’ll see what I can find out. I hate to say it, but it might’ve been some crazy who’s been following your story in the paper too. People get odd ideas about what they see and read.”

“That’s a scary thought.”

“Tell me about it.” He finished his notes. “Let me give you a ride back to Pie in the Sky.”

“I have to go to the grocery store for whipped cream and I promised Aunt Clara Italian food for lunch.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll take you. My wife hates when I eat Italian for lunch. She says I get too full. She wants me to eat salad or something. She’s home now, you know. She might be the next one trying to run you down.”

Frank was a little more cheerful as a chauffeur, especially with Italian food involved, compared to when he was being official. Maggie was amazed that he was willing to help her out this way.

As soon as Aunt Clara saw Maggie’s scratched and bruised face, she ran out of the kitchen. “What in the world happened? Are you all right?”

They went back in the kitchen to talk—Maggie thought their customers had seen and heard enough drama for one day.

Frank stayed and ate lunch with them, meatball subs. He asked Aunt Clara if she wanted to have a restraining order posted for Albert Mann so he’d have to stay away from her, the business, and the house.

Aunt Clara laughed at that. “Imagine going to court to keep that old so-and-so in his place. When I can’t defend myself against men like him, it’s time for me to retire.”

Frank shrugged as he finished his sub—no salad. “Okay. Just offering. If you change your mind, let me know.”

“I hope you’ll speak to him about this other incident.” She nodded at Maggie. “It’s wrong for people not to be able to cross the street safely in this town.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll check into it. If I know Albert Mann though, he’ll have an alibi.”

“Are you saying it’s not safe for me to go out?” Maggie asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Just be careful.”

Aunt Clara made a
humph
sound. “It seems to me that if Albert really wanted to accomplish something, he’d try to run over both of us tonight on the way home. What good would it do to just run over Maggie?”

F
rank had offered
to have a police officer take Maggie and Aunt Clara home that night.

Ryan called before they were ready to leave and offered to drive them home, upset when he heard her story.

“It’s hard to believe Mann would be this stupid. He knows people saw him at the pie shop. This isn’t how he works, according to what I’ve read about him. He’s more subtle—more like a spider than a raging bull. I don’t think he’d put himself in that position.”

“The police already have Stan in custody,” Maggie said. “He couldn’t have been there.”

Aunt Clara went out with friends that evening, leaving Ryan and Maggie at the house alone. He had a pizza delivered while she worked on creating a perfect coconut cream pie for her aunt.

Maggie had changed clothes and was wearing a pretty spring-green wool dress, one of the new ones she’d found in the attic. It was lightweight and dropped a little below her injured knee so the bandage didn’t show.

The smile on Ryan’s face when she came downstairs told her it was a good choice.

“You look great! I’m sorry we’re not going out so I could show you off.”

“Thanks.” She smiled and kissed him. “It’s nice to wear something besides jeans for a change.”

The coconut cream pie—she was thinking of naming it Coconut Charisma Cream pie—was giving her a hard time. It wasn’t the crust. The filling was too loose on the first one and too hard on the second.

Then she ran out of milk. She didn’t want to send Ryan out in the rain for more, though he offered to go. She’d have to try again later.

Instead they sat together talking and listening to music after cleaning up the mess in the kitchen.

“I don’t understand why anyone would attack you,” Ryan said. “Unless Mann has upped his game. You should be out of the picture for what happened with Lou.”

Maggie had been thinking the same thing. She hadn’t wanted to bring it up. So much of their time together involved talking about Lou’s death. She wanted to talk about
Ryan and what he’d been like growing up, what he was interested in, besides the paper.

She shrugged. “I know. It doesn’t make any sense. There doesn’t seem to be any explanation for it.”

“You must know something about the killer,” he said.

She started to protest.

“Hear me out, Maggie. I know you don’t know what you know.” He smiled at his words. “It could be something that could reveal whoever killed Lou. Eventually it’ll come to you.”

“Then I guess the killer is safe. The only thing I know about Lou’s killer is that it isn’t me. That’s not much.”

Ryan hugged her. “We’ll figure it out. It’s only a matter of time. Sometimes you hear or see things that don’t register as being important. When you do—bam!—it hits like an earthquake. It happens to me all the time after interviews.”