A Deal to Die For (9 page)

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Authors: Josie Belle

BOOK: A Deal to Die For
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“You’re going to be great,” Maggie said. “You’re smart, and you have a definite way
with people, firm but kind.”

“Thanks,” Sandy said. “Speaking of firm, I wanted to talk to you about Thanksgiving.
I know Laura is coming home, and I wondered if the two of you would like to come to
Florida with Josh and me to visit my mom and Grammy? I really think it would be nice
for four generations of O’Briens to be under one roof.”

O’Brien was Maggie’s maiden name and the name that Maggie and her sister, Melodie,
shared before they both got married. Maggie stared at Sandy for a moment and then
burst out laughing.

“You’re looking for buffer,” she accused.

“No, I’m not,” Sandy protested. Her face flamed bright red, however, and Maggie knew
she had nailed it.

“Oh please, I know how you and your mother get on,” Maggie said. “Like fire and gas.”

“That’s only because she is a big, bossy know-it-all, and you should talk, since you
and Grammy get on about as well,” Sandy said.

“That’s because Grammy is the queen of the
You should
s,” Maggie said.

“What?” Sandy asked. She gave her a confused look.

“Every time I talk to that woman it turns into ‘You should do this’ and ‘You should
do that,’” Maggie said. “It drives me bonkers. I’m forty-one years old. Do I look
like I need someone to tell me what I should be doing?”

“So, you’ll come?” Sandy asked with a big grin.

“They’re coming up for Christmas, right?” Maggie asked.

“Yes,” Sandy answered.

“I think that’s all the
should
ing I can handle during the
holidays,” Maggie said. “Sorry, hon. I love them dearly, I do, but don’t forget the
day after Thanksgiving is Black Friday, the biggest bargain-shopping day of the year.
The GBGs will be working it.”

“You could work it in Florida,” Sandy said.

“I can’t give up my home-field advantage,” Maggie said.

“It’s all right, I understand,” Sandy said. “It’s just four days. Surely, I can buck
up for four days, which if you think about it is only ninety-six hours, and if I sleep
for eight hours each day, that makes it only sixty-four hours. Doable, especially
since I will have to study during some of that time.”

“That’s my girl,” Maggie said. “Just learn to smile and nod.”

“I can always use my secret weapon,” Sandy said.

Maggie shot her a questioning glance.

Sandy gave her sad eyes, and said, “Josh’s puppy face. I’ll have him bust that out
and completely distract them.”

“Nice,” Maggie said with a smile.

The phone on the counter rang, and Sandy checked the caller ID.

“It’s Cheryl Kincaid,” she said. She grabbed the receiver out of its cradle and handed
it to Maggie.

“Hello,” Maggie said.

Cheryl was Dr. Franklin’s nurse practitioner. She’d been with Doc almost as long as
Maggie, and they’d become good friends over the years.

“Maggie, I’m glad I caught you,” Cheryl said. “I’m at the coffee shop. I just heard
from Pete Daniels that the police picked up Dr. Franklin and brought him in for questioning
in the death of Vera Madison.”

Chapter 9

“What?” Maggie asked. She shook her head. This wasn’t computing. Obviously, her coffee
intake this morning had not been sufficient. “That’s not possible.”

“Which doesn’t make it untrue,” Cheryl said. “I’m going over to the jail. I called
the house, but no one answered. Alice must be beside herself.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Maggie said. “Give me ten minutes.”

She hung up the phone and saw the worried look on Sandy’s face.

“Doc’s been taken in for questioning. It’s okay. I’m sure Sam is just being very thorough,”
she said.

She didn’t know if she was trying to convince Sandy or herself, but judging by the
look on Sandy’s face, she didn’t feel any better than Maggie.

“Is there anything I can do?” Sandy asked. “I could come with you.”

“No, Josh isn’t even awake yet, and I don’t think he
should be hanging out in the sheriff’s station, do you?” she asked.

“No,” Sandy said. “But if there’s anything I can do—”

“Maybe you could call Max Button and let him know I might have need of his legal expertise,”
Maggie said.

“Consider it done,” Sandy said. “Call me when you know what’s happening. I have a
special place in my heart for Dr. Franklin since he took such good care of me when
I was pregnant.”

“I will,” Maggie said, and she gave Sandy a reassuring hug.

She hurried from the kitchen to put on some clothes, freshen up and grab her purse.
She could feel a low level of rage simmering below the surface. She was trying to
give him the benefit of the doubt, but honestly, how could Sam do this? He knew Dr.
Franklin would never harm a soul.

Twenty-four years gone from St. Stanley and he had obviously forgotten how decent
folks treat one another. Hauling Doc in on a Sunday, no less; what could he be thinking?

Well, she was just the woman to remind him that this wasn’t the city, this was St.
Stanley, and things were not done in such a heavy-fisted manner here. He needed to
know that he’d better adjust to small-town living before he put everyone off and found
himself to be the loneliest sheriff in Virginia.

Maggie dressed quickly in jeans and a long-john shirt with a denim shirt over it.
She brushed her hair into a ponytail that she clipped at the nape of her neck, and
put on just enough make up to make her pale eyelashes visible. She finished her look
with her brown leather half boots with the chunky heels to give herself some added
height. Grabbing
her purse from the table where she kept it, she was out the door in five minutes.

She parked behind the police station, and when she walked toward the door, she saw
Cheryl sitting on a bench next to the building. Cheryl was nursing a very tasty-looking
frozen coffee with some sort of caramel drizzle on top of a pile of whipped cream.

“Any word?” Maggie asked.

Cheryl heaved a sighed. “I was too chicken to go in by myself. What if they have him
in handcuffs? Or worse, what if he’s wearing one of those hideous Day-Glo orange jumpsuits?
I couldn’t stand it.”

“I don’t think they handcuff you or dress you in a grown-up onesie just for questioning,”
Maggie said.

“I was afraid I’d cry,” Cheryl said. She looked like she might cry anyway.

Maggie held out a hand and helped her up from the bench. Despite her tough exterior—Cheryl
was short and stocky and managed the town’s local softball league—she was also the
world’s biggest marshmallow, which made her a fabulous nurse when it came to taking
care of patients.

She took it personally when people were sick and considered it her mission in life
to eradicate the illness and make them feel better. Maggie had often thought Cheryl
would make a great doctor, but Cheryl said she couldn’t handle the thought of all
of the paperwork.

“It’s going to be okay,” Maggie said.

She draped her arm around Cheryl’s shoulders and together they walked into the station.

Thankfully, the front desk was being manned by Deputy Dot Wilson. She saw Maggie and
raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’ve been waiting for you. I thought you’d be here earlier than this,” Dot said.
She plunked her hands on her curvy
hips, looking like she was gearing up to give Maggie a lecture.

Dot wore her tan deputy’s uniform with pride. She never had a hair out of place. It
was always tucked neatly into a bun at the back of her head. She was, however, partial
to Italian shoes. She and Maggie had gotten to know each other a few months before
and had quickly bonded over expensive perfume and imported footwear.

“Good morning, Dot,” Maggie said. “How’s Doc?”

“He’s fine,” she said. “You probably heard that he got called in and you overreacted,
didn’t you?”

Maggie gave her a reluctant nod.

“It’s just a questioning,” Dot said. “Standard operating procedure, no big deal.”

“Well it feels like a big deal to me,” Cheryl said.

“You want to see a big deal?” Dot asked. “I’ve got a big deal for you.”

Dot stepped out from behind the counter and bent one knee back, lifting her foot in
a classic 1950s Hollywood-starlet pose. “Look what I got at Stegner’s.”

Maggie gave a low whistle. “Fendi?”

“The short patent lace-up boot,” Dot said.

“Those do not look to be standard-issue deputy shoes,” Cheryl said. “How are you going
to chase down a suspect in three-inch spindly heels?”

“I’m not chasing anyone in my Fendis,” Dot said. “When I go out on rounds, I change.”

“Stegner’s, huh?” Maggie asked. “Many sizes left?”

“They were going fast,” Dot said.

“I really hate to break up the shoe-fetish thing that you two have going,” Cheryl
said, looking annoyed. “But we’re not here to talk about shoes.”

Maggie shook her head, trying to dislodge the picture of
how wonderful those shoes would look in her storefront window, maybe with a nice retro-looking
sixties A-line dress that was an ultrafeminine counterpoint to the shoes.

“Focus, Maggie,” Cheryl said.

“You’re right,” she said. “Dot, what can you tell us about Doc Franklin coming in
for questioning?”

“Not a whole lot, since I’m not in the room with them,” Dot said. “He came in about
an hour ago, and he’s been in the interview room with Sam ever since.”

“An hour!” Cheryl and Maggie said together and exchanged a worried look.

Maggie glanced around the waiting area, looking for Alice Franklin. It was noticeably
empty.

“Did his wife come with him?” she asked.

“No, he was alone.”

Cheryl and Maggie exchanged another worried glance. It was very out of character for
Alice not to be by Doc Franklin’s side during a crisis. She was his anchor and not
in a “ball and chain” way but in a “ship in rough seas” sort of way.

“Did he say anything when he came in?” Cheryl asked. “You know, like maybe his wife
has the flu or a hair appointment or anything like that?”

“No.” Dot shook her head. “He just looked really sad.”

“We need to see him,” Maggie said.

“No can do,” Dot said. “This is a formal interview. Sheriff Collins would pop a blood
vessel if I interrupted them because of you two.”

“But Doc’s all alone,” Cheryl protested. “He needs us.”

Dot leveled her with a hard stare.

“Listen to me, Cheryl Kincaid: Dr. Franklin is a grown man. He does not need the two
of you babying him because he’s a person of interest.”

“He’s a what?” Cheryl’s eyes bugged, and her shoulder muscles bulged, and suddenly
the marshmallow of a nurse looked like she could do some damage.

Dot huffed out a breath. “Darn, I probably wasn’t supposed to say that.”

“Say what?” Sam Collins asked as he strolled into the room through a door behind Dot’s
counter.

“That Doc is a person of interest,” she said. She gave him a sheepish look as if waiting
for him to lay into her. He didn’t.

“No, you shouldn’t have said that,” he said. He glanced across the counter at Maggie
and Cheryl. “Especially not to those two.”

Maggie was winding up to give him what for when the door to the station house opened
and in tripped Maxwell Button. Max skidded to a stop beside them and pushed his long,
greasy black hair out of his face.

“Oh, hell no,” Sam said. “You did not call this boy in here to represent Dr. Franklin,
did you?”

Maggie said nothing, but she grinned at Max. “Good to see you, Max. What have you
been doing since the Frosty Freeze closed for the winter?”

“Delivering pizza for A Slice of Heaven,” he said. “The pay isn’t great, but Mrs.
Bellini lets me study and gives me free pizza.”

“So, you have benefits,” Cheryl said. “Not bad.”

“I wish I’d get free pizza,” Dot said with a chastising look at Sam.

“Look, I meant no offense,” Sam said to Max.

“Why would I take offense?” Max asked. “Defense lawyers and cops are not generally
pleased to see one another in a professional capacity, are they?”

“Well, just so you know, it’s not personal,” Sam said. “You’re just awfully young
that’s all.”

Maggie would have given Sam points for decency but since he had brought Dr. Franklin
in for questioning, she withheld them.

“Thank you for coming, Max,” she said. “I know Doc will feel better having you here.”

“I owe him one,” Max said. “Remember when I thought I was having indigestion and it
was actually appendicitis? It ruptured and I got peritonitis. I could have died if
Dr. Franklin hadn’t figured out what was wrong and gotten me to the hospital when
he did.”

Maggie turned to Sam to give him her best “I told you so” look. He ignored her.

“Can I see my client?” Max asked.

“He hasn’t asked for representation yet,” Sam said.

They all stared at him.

“What?” he asked.

Maggie crossed her arms over her chest, and Cheryl cracked her knuckles.

“Okay, fine,” Sam relented. “Dot, please let Mr. Button into the back.”

Max tripped through the half gate, and Maggie cringed. She noticed he tripped more
than he walked lately, since his feet had grown inordinately large during the past
year.

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