Plum Deadly (27 page)

Maggie didn’t really care at that moment if the truth hit or not. She was happy where she was, about to have her name cleared of any hint of embezzlement. It didn’t hurt that having Ryan close was nice too.

Aunt Clara made it home finally around nine. Ryan left soon after.

Maggie made hot chocolate for them, needing to use packets of hot chocolate mix. Aunt Clara commented on their surprising lack of milk.

“I used a little for dinner. I guess we were almost out,” Maggie said. She didn’t want Aunt Clara to guess her secret yet. She felt bad not being honest with her about the milk.

“I must be more absentminded than I thought.” Aunt
Clara sipped her hot chocolate as Maggie volunteered to pick up more milk tomorrow.

“How was the evening with Ryan?”

“Great. Every time I see him, I like him more. I wish we could move past Lou’s death and all the other problems that brought us together.”

Aunt Clara yawned. “I’m sorry. That was no reflection on our conversation. I’m tired. I’m sure you’ll get past all this other nonsense. Many times, unusual circumstances bring people together. It’s what’s left behind that counts. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning, honey.”

• • •

T
he next morning
, Maggie went to open a bank account and pick up her dry cleaning after making plenty of coffee and Blue Devil pies at Pie in the Sky. Bountiful Blueberry always had a name change on Fridays when there was a home game, in honor of the team.

She kept a watchful eye on the road and cars around her. Her trip was accomplished with no mishaps this time. She gave a grateful sigh of relief when she was back at the pie shop again. She couldn’t be afraid to go out. What kind of life would that be?

There were only two customers when she got back. She let Aunt Clara know she was back and refilled coffee cups. Everything felt as it should.

Aunt Clara had taken an order for three Pumpkin Pizzazz pies while she was gone and they had to make four more Blue Devil pies.

A short, thin man, who looked young enough to be a
serious-faced teenager, came in around 10:00 a.m. He gave Maggie his business card and asked if she could sit down for a minute.

“The bank sent me with their most sincere apologies for the mix-up regarding your termination,” Brad Andrews told her. “I have some paperwork for you to sign and a check that should cover your severance plus some. You’ll have to agree not to pursue this any further and not to hold the bank in any way responsible for what happened.”

Maggie looked at the check he slid toward her across the table. Her eyes lit up. This was great. The things she could do with this money.

She had a few doubts. She could certainly sue the bank for wrongful termination and defamation of character. She’d thought about that.

On the other hand, lawsuits had a way of hanging around forever.

She wanted this out of the way—not hanging around her neck anymore. The money was fair, even good, if she didn’t think too much about what she’d gone through.

Despite Jane’s urging that she hold out for a better offer, she signed the documents and took the check. Now that she was leading a more modest lifestyle, the money would go much further. She might even buy a car for her and Aunt Clara. To her knowledge, her aunt had never owned a car.

Brad Andrews thanked her and put the documents she’d signed into his briefcase. He shook her hand and walked out of the pie shop.

It was the end of that life that had meant so much to
her. Not the end she’d expected, but a better one. Maggie had a feeling her life was taking a good turn.

Frank came in shortly after Brad had left and ordered a piece of Blue Devil pie, waiting patiently until Maggie could talk.

“You’re looking better today,” he said with his terse smile. “No lasting side effects from almost being run over, I take it?”

“No. I was lucky, I guess. Anyone come in and confess to trying to run down a pie shop waitress?”

“No. Sorry. We’re still working on it. I can tell you that we’ve completely ruled out Stan Isleb as Mr. Goldberg’s killer. His alibi held up. He’ll probably go away to one of those fancy Club Med prisons up north for embezzlement. He won’t be working for another bank in his lifetime.”

“No clues about Lou’s killer?”

“We’re checking out his assistant. I personally don’t think the boy has it in him. It’s one thing to lie or even steal for your employer and another to kill for him. I don’t think Ron did it.”

“So we may never know who did it.” Maggie glanced around at her customers. They all seemed to be doing fine. “The killer could be back in New York by now.”

“Could be. Or it could be that’s what that hit-and-run was about. You could still be a loose end, Maggie. He could be waiting to get rid of you before he leaves town. Is there anything else, anyone else, you might have missed telling me about?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Ryan and I talked about this last night. If I know who the killer is, his secret is
safe with me. I keep drawing a blank every time I think about it.”

Frank stood up and put some money on the table for his pie and coffee. “I assigned someone yesterday to keep an eye on you for the next day or two. Sorry. That’s all I can afford. Maybe we’ll get lucky and the killer will come after you right away.”

“I don’t think that sounds like luck. Thanks for thinking about me anyway.”

“All part of the service, ma’am.”

Maggie watched him leave, hoping he was wrong about anyone trying to kill her. It wasn’t part of her perfect new world.

She wanted to put Lou’s death, and everything else that had recently happened, behind her. She needed a new, fresh start.

Life was suddenly very sweet. She had Aunt Clara back in her life. She had Ryan, and a big check to spend on the house and the pie shop. The tide had turned in her favor. She didn’t like that the person who’d killed Lou was still out there, but she didn’t see what else she could do to change that. She hoped the police would find his killer.

Study groups of students trickled in between 4:00 and 6:00 p.m. Even Maggie’s rude student showed up again. This time he was in a better mood. It probably had something to do with the pretty dark-haired girl who was with him. No doubt she was part of his improvement.

Angela Hightower came in and walked directly to the counter. “Hi, Maggie. I ordered the pumpkin pies to go. I guess Clara calls them Pumpkin Pizzazz. We’ve had a few
nice sales at the office this week and I thought I’d have a little celebration with my associates.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” Maggie smiled as she totaled up what Angela owed.

Angela was chatty, as usual. “I heard Mann Development is looking at another piece of property for the medical office building. It won’t be as good as this one. Bad luck for Clara.”

“Not really,” Maggie said. “Aunt Clara wants to keep the shop. She doesn’t want to sell. Albert Mann was wasting his time.”

“Everyone is willing to sell for the right price, honey.” Angela handed Maggie her card to pay for the pies. “Albert didn’t offer her the price she was looking for. If he had, it would’ve been a different story.”

“I don’t think that’s true in this case,” Maggie said, handing her card back with a receipt for her to sign.

“It’s always been true in my years of experience.” Angela signed the receipt and smiled. “I’m not saying it’s always money. There are other things people want. To close a tough sale, you have to figure out what that is.”

Angela sounded a little ruthless. She was pleasant enough to be a good customer. Maggie knew she didn’t want to see her other side.

She smiled and gave up trying to convince Angela that Aunt Clara didn’t want to sell the pie shop. There was only so much she could say and a line was beginning to form behind her.

Officer Jack Harding came in and identified himself. He was a slightly older, rounder version of Frank, dressed in
uniform. He pulled at his cap. “I’ve been assigned to keep you safe, Ms. Grady. Please don’t make that job any harder by trying to go off by yourself, okay? I’ll be right out front when you’re ready to go home. Any errands you have to run, we’ll run them together.”

He talked her into riding home in the police car with Aunt Clara. Every time Maggie looked out the front window, she saw the cruiser conspicuously parked there.

It made her wonder if she’d done the right thing calling Frank for help after the hit-and-run. True, she was scared at the time and didn’t know who else to call. Maybe it was a little overboard.

Looking back on it, she felt sure she was a victim of misplaced road rage. She probably made someone angry when she was crossing the street. People did crazy things when they were driving and other people got in their way. It probably wasn’t an attempt on her life at all.

It had been easy to fall in with Frank’s suggestion that someone might have been trying to kill her because of everything that had been going on.

Maggie forced herself to relax and waved to Officer Harding. She picked up coffee cups from the table. It would all blow over in a few days. Aunt Clara was excited about riding home in a police car. What harm could it do?

Ryan had texted a few times to check in and let her know what he was doing. He’d been tied up with meetings all day. He’d also asked her out for dinner.

Maggie had the perfect outfit in mind. She hummed as she thought about the turquoise sweater and tight black skirt. One thing about being depressed, even working at the
pie shop, she’d managed to lose a few pounds. Ryan was going to be surprised when he came to pick her up.

She put out the Closed sign at six and started cleaning up. Forty-five minutes later, Aunt Clara said everything was in good shape and she was heading for the front door.

“Let me put the trash out back. I’ll be right there,” Maggie said.

“Hurry. I don’t want to miss
Dancing with the Stars
tonight. I think they’re going to vote Carmen and Angel off the show. I have to see that.”

Maggie chuckled as she took the trash through the kitchen to the back door. She unlocked the door and pushed it open, wrestling the bags down the stairs to the trash bin.

It was darker than usual in the alley. One of the overhead lights had gone out. It was always something. No wonder Aunt Clara couldn’t keep up with all of it. Maggie marked that down on her to-do list.

As she dropped the bags into the Dumpster, the heavy, metal back door slammed closed behind her. She looked up.

Someone was standing on the stairs.

Maggie thought it was her aunt. “I’m fine, Aunt Clara. And I’m hurrying. You didn’t need to come out.”

A husky voice answered, “Don’t worry. I won’t be here long.”

It was Jane Isleb.

M
aggie’s heart beat
a little faster. She looked around the dark alley. Except for Jane, she was alone back there. There was nothing but the Dumpsters.

“Hi, Jane. What are you doing here? We’re closing up for the night.”

Jane laughed in a way that made Maggie’s stomach tighten. “Why do you think I’m here?”

Suddenly, Maggie understood. Jane had tried to run her down yesterday.

And she knew why.

Ryan had been right. So had Frank. Jane had given herself away when she’d talked to Maggie about Stan. She’d admitted to being with her brother that morning before Lou had come to visit the pie shop. No doubt that was when she’d fed him the poison.

“You don’t have to do this,” Maggie told her. “I haven’t said anything to the police.”

“So you realized what I’d told you? Did you recognize me yesterday when I screwed up trying to kill you? Why didn’t you tell your cop friend?”

Maggie was trying to look around inconspicuously for anything she could use as a weapon. She had no doubt Jane was there to finish the job. In the meantime, Officer Harding and Aunt Clara were up front waiting for her.

Maybe if she could keep her talking a little longer her erstwhile protector would realize this was taking too long.

“I didn’t say anything to Frank because I understand that you did what you had to do. Lou was about to tell the world that Stan had been taking money from the bank for years. You would’ve lost everything.”

“My brother was such a fool,” Jane said. “He would’ve done anything to clear your name. I think he was in love with you, no matter what you say.”

“He was trying to do what was right.”

“Well, he messed up my life doing it. Now Stan is going to prison and he’ll never have anything again. I’m too old to start over. I’m sorry you were caught in the middle. I’m even more sorry I got carried away and told you something I shouldn’t have. I want this to be over now, Maggie. I guess it is for you.”

Maggie heard the distinctive click of a pistol. Jane wasn’t taking any more chances. She darted behind the Dumpster and tried to keep her talking.

“Hiding back there won’t help,” Jane said.

“Look, Jane, if I was going to say something, I’d have done it by now, don’t you think? I realize that you’ve been through a lot. So have I. Can’t we move on from here and forget this ever happened? I’ll keep your secret.”