Plum Deadly (12 page)

She smiled. “That’s nice. Have you been there since I got back?”

He cleared his throat and opened a folder he’d had tucked under his arm when he’d come back into the room. “If you don’t mind, I’ll ask the questions.”

She took a sip of the coffee. It was bad. Very bad. Worse than the coffee at Biscuitland. Her face probably looked like Stan’s when he’d tasted Aunt Clara’s coffee. “Let’s get it over with.”

“I like that attitude.” He read some of the file, his lips moving even though he didn’t say anything out loud. “It says here you served Lou pie and coffee while you talked to him. What did you talk about?”

“I already explained this to you.”

“Humor me, Maggie.”

She told him again what Lou had said. “It hasn’t changed.”

“I can see that.” He looked at the file again. “Why do
you think Lou gave you a heads-up on this? Why not hold his little press conference and you’d find out then?”

“I don’t know. He acted like he was sorry for firing me. I thought he wanted to make things right between us.”

“And why do you think he came all the way down here to Durham instead of taking care of it in New York?”

“I have no idea. I didn’t expect him to show up. It was a complete surprise.”

He nodded. “You didn’t talk to him after you were fired, did you? I mean, there wasn’t a regular email kind of thing going on, right?”

“No. We weren’t exactly friendly after that.”

“What about your other relationship with the deceased? We’ve heard there were rumors at the bank that you and Mr. Goldberg were lovers.”

He’d definitely talked with Stan already.

“Lou and I were never lovers. I don’t even know where that came from. When I left the city, I never expected to see him again.”

“And that’s why you were upset when you saw him here. It was a reminder of everything you’d lost at his hands. There was a small part of you that wanted revenge, wasn’t there?”

“No. There wasn’t any part of me that wanted revenge. That doesn’t even make any sense. My best bet to get back into the bank and the life I loved died on the stairs behind the pie shop. What would I gain by killing Lou?”

Frank blinked a few times and sat back in his chair. “The autopsy shows that Louis Goldberg died only a few
hours after you claim to have given him pie to eat. He must’ve realized something was wrong and tried to get into Pie in the Sky from the back. Maybe he realized he’d been poisoned. Maybe he thought you did it.”

“Seriously? I thought we were past this, Frank! Because I have a new theory to tell you that could mean Stan Isleb is the killer.”

“Have you ever heard of arsenic?”

“Arsenic?” Maggie thought about it. “That’s a poison, right? Is that what killed Lou?”

“You tell me.”

“I don’t even know where to get arsenic.”

“It’s readily available. Anyone could get enough to kill someone. It doesn’t take much.”

“I don’t believe this.” She looked around the room. “It’s stupid to think I killed Lou. The whole time you’re focused on me, the real killer is getting away.”

“We don’t know where the arsenic came from—yet. But we’ll figure it out.” He sounded very sure of himself. “Forensics being what it is today, we can say exactly where it came from. When we know, it will be easy to guess the rest.”

“I hope so, because I didn’t do it. It would be nice if you’d find out what happened quickly.” Maggie was getting tired of being browbeaten. “I don’t have much of a reputation to ruin. I’d like to keep what I have.”

“Do you have any idea where we should start looking? I can tell you we didn’t find any trace of arsenic at your pie shop. Could it have come from your home?”

“What?”

“We’ll know very soon now anyway. You could make it easier on yourself and tell us before we find it. The DA likes that kind of cooperation. He sees it as an act of contrition.”

“Are you searching my aunt’s house?”

He didn’t answer the question. “It’s easier with you out of the way, don’t you think? I haven’t heard anything back yet. You still have time to tell us all about it.”

So much for Aunt Clara not knowing about what happened.

“That’s terrible. I can’t believe you can just go in and search people’s houses.”

“I know. I feel real bad about it.”

“My aunt hasn’t done anything to anyone. She shouldn’t have to go through this.”

He pushed a piece of paper toward her. “This is your last chance to confess, Maggie. Write it all down now before we have the real evidence.”

Rebelliously, she wrote on the paper.
I didn’t kill Lou Goldberg
.
Check out Stan Isleb.

“Okay. That’s fine.” He looked at the paper then crumpled it up. “Have it your way. Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.”

Frank left her alone in the small room again. Now she wished she could call Aunt Clara. She wasn’t sure what she’d say. Maybe she could at least commiserate with her about her house being torn apart—again.

She stared at the walls, imagining how scared and upset her aunt had to be feeling as the police searched the house. She had no doubt they would say terrible things to her too, as Frank had to Maggie. By now, Aunt Clara must also be wondering if Maggie had killed Lou.

At that moment, she was genuinely sorry she’d come back to Durham. She hadn’t known where else to go. She’d never envisioned anything like this happening.

Frank finally returned. “Looks like you’re free to go. There was nothing at the house. Nothing at the pie shop either.”

“What about Stan Isleb? I know he was here. He visited me this morning with that crap about me having an affair with Lou. I know that’s where you got that idea. Have you checked into him at all? Maybe you should haul him in here for questioning.”

Frank’s mouth tightened. “Go home, Maggie.”

She’d been sitting in the uncomfortable wood chair for hours. It was painful to stand. She gathered her things and walked as fast as she could toward the door. She didn’t want to be there even a moment longer than she had to.

“Just one thing, Frank. How are you going to question Stan after he goes back to New York? Once he’s gone, you’re stuck with me. And I didn’t do it.”

Maggie could feel the other officers eyeing her as she walked through the station. She didn’t breathe until she was outside.

It was only after she’d stepped out on the stairs that she realized it was dark. The day was completely gone. She’d lost the whole thing sitting in a police station, accused of a crime she didn’t commit.

There was no time to feel sorry for herself. She had to get home as quickly as possible and talk to Aunt Clara.

“Maggie!” Ryan was leaning against the brick wall inside the shelter of the front overhang.

She was stunned to see him there. “How did you know where I was?”

“I followed you over here from the office. They wouldn’t let me in to talk to you so I waited. Are you all right? What happened?”

“I can’t explain now. I have to get home. The police searched my aunt’s house. I don’t want to think about what she’s been through because of me.”

“Let me take you.”

“I don’t need your help. I need a bus.”

“My car would be faster, especially at this time of night.”

She didn’t say yes or no, yet suddenly she was in his car. He pulled out of the police parking lot and into traffic.

“What did Frank say to you?” he asked. “Do you need a lawyer?”

His questioning made her realize where she was and what she was doing. “Is your father okay with you being here?”

He pulled the Honda to the side of the busy street. “I know you heard what my father said, Maggie. It doesn’t mean anything. He doesn’t understand.”

She looked into his face, illuminated by the dash light. “Why would he think such a thing?”

“It’s the way he is. He wants to run the paper but he can’t anymore. It’s made him bitter. I think he’s afraid I’m going to leave and let the paper die. His idea for my life is that I run the paper twenty-four/seven and not have a life outside of it.”

“That’s crazy. He can’t expect that from you, Ryan.”

“I know. He’s my personal cross to bear right now.” He
looked closely into her face. “But you know I won’t write anything except the facts of the case, right? I won’t even write that, if you don’t want me to.”

“Thank you.”

“He’s probably right about me not being objective. I don’t care. The newspaper can’t be my whole life.”

“I didn’t think you kissed me and wanted to have lunch with me because you were writing about Lou’s death. I didn’t know what was going on, Ryan, but I trust you not to put something bad about me into the paper.”

He put his arms around her, awkwardly because of the steering wheel. “I know we’ve just met. It’s probably not much to go on—”

Maggie kissed him before he could finish. “I like you too, Ryan. I’m so glad you’re here right now.”

“Good. That’s very good.” Ryan sounded bemused. “It’s great, in fact.”

There was a rap at the driver’s-side window as they kissed again. Ryan rolled down the glass and a police officer stuck his head in the car.

“Maybe you two could take this home for the night,” he suggested in an irritated voice.

“Sorry, Officer,” Ryan said. “We’re leaving now.”

“Good. I’d expect this from teenagers—you two oughta know better.”

When the cranky officer had moved his head, Ryan rolled up the window. He looked at Maggie and the two of them burst out laughing.

It was a stress breaker after all the tension of the day.
Maggie was thankful for the officer’s intervention, although at first she’d wondered if the police were starting to follow her.

Ryan cleared his throat and pulled the Honda back out into traffic. “Anyway, I’m glad you feel the same. I know this is a bad time for you and your aunt. I hope you’ll let me help.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I mean, what can we do?”

“We can help the police figure out who killed Lou. We can clear your name. I’ve always wanted to solve a murder.”

“That sounds great. Where do we start?”

“Tell me everything that Frank said to you while you were in the police station. You probably don’t realize it yet, but you learned some things we can use.”

M
aggie thought about
it. Maybe he was right. It wasn’t easy to keep track of all the information in her head since it was spinning with the events of the last few weeks. She didn’t know what she could have missed, but she was willing to trust Ryan with the information.

She blurted out everything that had happened that morning—from the police searching her purse to Frank telling her the house and pie shop were clean and which poison had killed Lou.

“Arsenic?” Ryan said. “Are you sure?”

“That’s what he said. Why?”

“That’s old school. I didn’t know anyone even used arsenic anymore. There are so many more sophisticated ways of poisoning someone. Some of those would be difficult for the medical examiner to spot. There are tests for arsenic poisoning.”

Maggie stared at him. “How do you know all that?”

“I like to read about true crime.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s left over from my first love. Some part of me still wishes I was with the police instead of writing about them.”

“So what does that mean? Is arsenic bad to use?”

“No, not really. Usually killers want to disguise the poison they use. In this case, since they were setting you up, they probably didn’t care. Arsenic is easy to come by. That’s why it’s one of the oldest poisons. It’s simple to use and very effective. It only takes one tenth of a gram to kill someone. It’s tasteless and a white powder, like sugar.”

“It’s kind of creepy that you know that,” she said.

“Yeah, well, it’s just a hobby.”

“How long does it take this stuff to work?” she asked him.

“Maybe three hours. Give or take. It would all depend on Lou and how it affected him.”

“So he could have ingested the poison before he came to the pie shop and still seemed okay?”

“Maybe not okay exactly, but you’d have to know what you were looking for to diagnose him. It was hours later that you found him. Without seeing the medical examiner’s report, it’s just as possible he was poisoned at the pie shop or at someplace after he left you.”

“I guess the only way we’re going to find out who killed him is to find out who the real thief was. Lou probably went to see him before he came to see me. He seems to have told everyone else that he planned to reveal the thief.”

Ryan parked the car in front of Aunt Clara’s house. “Now we’re talking. It should be a small list of people who knew what was going on.”

“Maybe.” She told him about her visit from Stan. “He looks really guilty to me. He fits all the criteria I was creating my list from, before my laptop was stolen.”

“I know a man who knows a man who can get access to cell phone numbers.” Ryan picked up the white pie box from the backseat. He smiled when he saw the surprised look on Maggie’s face. “What? I looked inside when I found it. It’s a little messed up, but it tastes great. Thanks for bringing it.”