Plum Deadly (13 page)

He locked the car after they got out then followed Maggie up the sidewalk to the house.

Maggie put the quest to find out who killed Lou behind her for a while. She dreaded the condition she’d find Aunt Clara in when she went inside.

She unlocked the door and looked around. Everything seemed okay. They certainly were neat in their search, unlike the people who broke in and took her laptop. “Aunt Clara?”

“Maggie?” Aunt Clara called back from the kitchen. “Thank goodness. I was beginning to get worried about you. I mean, Ryan seems like a nice young man. Who can tell these days? You could’ve been dead in a ditch somewhere.”

Maggie ran back to the kitchen and hugged her aunt, leaving Ryan standing at the door. “Are you okay? I was so
worried. They didn’t badger you about Lou’s death, did they?”

Aunt Clara stopped pouring hot milk from a pan into a cup with chocolate in it. “What are you talking about? Who could have badgered me about Lou’s death? The only other person I’ve seen was that very respectful police officer who gave me a formal notice that the pie shop can open again tomorrow. Isn’t that good news?”

Maggie stared at her, not understanding. “Detective Waters said they were searching the house for arsenic while he questioned me at the police station.”

Aunt Clara stared back. “He was questioning you about arsenic? Why in the world would he do such a thing?”

“I might be able to explain this.” Ryan came into the room. “It was Frank’s way of stressing you, Maggie, getting you to admit to something. You can’t say that he completely lied since he probably sent that officer over here with the notice. He didn’t have enough evidence to get a search warrant. It’s an old trick of the trade. You’d be surprised how often it works. Of course, you have to be guilty of something first.”

Both women stared at him as though he was a stranger. Two red spots came up on his cheeks. He sniffed the air appreciatively. “Is that hot chocolate? That sounds like it would be good with the rest of this pie.”

Aunt Clara and Maggie laughed and hugged each other.

They all sat around the kitchen table a few minutes later, Maggie and Aunt Clara eating fresh ginger snaps and Ryan eating a large portion of the apple crumb pie. The house was quiet around them in a good way. It was nice for things to be normal.

“So if the pie shop is in the clear and they don’t have enough evidence to search the house, I’m okay, right?” Maggie asked Ryan.

“For now. You’re the only one they know of with motive and opportunity. If that’s the best they can do, the DA won’t prosecute. Everything else is circumstantial. Unless he finds some hard evidence to back it up, Frank can’t proceed. If they don’t find anything else, Lou’s death will become another cold case.”

“But we’re not going to let that happen.” Maggie chewed on a ginger snap and drank the last of her hot chocolate. “What do we have to do to get those cell phone records from your friend of a friend?”

“Give him a hundred dollars.” Ryan cut another piece from his pie. “He can have it back to us within twenty-four hours. I think my friend’s friend might work for the cell phone company. Don’t quote me on that.”

“A hundred dollars.” Maggie sighed. There was a time when that had meant very little to her. Not now. She didn’t know how she could come up with that much money right away.

“I have that much in my egg money,” Aunt Clara volunteered. “Let’s use it and catch the bad guy.”

“Egg money?” Maggie laughed. “What does that mean?”

“You’re too young to remember. A man used to come around and bring eggs when I was a little girl. You never knew when he was coming, so you kept a little spare cash somewhere to give him. Otherwise, who knew when he’d be back?”

As Aunt Clara explained, she went to a small white ceramic
jar by the refrigerator and took out a hundred dollars. “What can I say? Old habits die hard.”

Ryan took the money from her. “I’ll get this to him right away.”

Maggie had a change of heart and put her hand on his that held the money. “Maybe we should just leave this alone. Pie in the Sky can open again tomorrow. Maybe I should keep my head down and wait for this to all blow over.”

Ryan shrugged. “It’s your choice.”

But Aunt Clara wouldn’t hear of it. “You know, I always taught you to fight for what you want, honey. You can’t let people like that man who came to visit us besmirch your good name and get away with it. I’d pay a lot more than this to see your name cleared.”

Maggie frowned. “Aunt Clara, the money—”

“Not another word about the money. Let’s just let Ryan get on with it.”

Ryan still looked at Maggie. She finally nodded and he put the money away. “That’s right. You said Lou’s brother-in-law came to visit,” he said. “You felt like he could have killed Lou. What made him seem guilty to you?”

• • •

M
aggie rolled over
and slammed her hand down on her old princess alarm clock when it went off at 5:00 a.m. the next day. She and Ryan had been up talking until past midnight. It had taken her at least an hour after that to get to sleep. She was still exhausted.

Aunt Clara was wide awake, dressed, and ready to go. She looked in on Maggie at 5:15. “You’re still not up? We
have to work today. There are no pies made. Hurry, lazybones. You won’t have time to shower if you’re not up soon.”

Her voice permeated Maggie’s dream and made her get sluggishly out of bed. A tepid shower woke her up enough to put on her jeans and Pie in the Sky T-shirt. She brushed her hair and smiled at herself in the foggy bathroom mirror. For once, since she’d been back home, she was looking forward to the new day.

Maggie made piecrust right beside Aunt Clara before the pie shop opened that day. She eyed her crust critically. It wasn’t quite as neat as her aunt’s crust, but it was coming along. She hoped it tasted as good. She was doing everything she should be. Aunt Clara told her not to be such a worry wart.

They filled dozens of pies. Bountiful Blueberry, Popular Peach, and Chocoholic Cream pie were always favorites. Aunt Clara declared the pie special of the day to be Lotsa Lemon Meringue. That meant a ton of lemons to squeeze and egg whites to beat. Maggie thought it might be the hardest pie to make. Aunt Clara liked everything to be fresh and from scratch.

The front counter was clean, as were the floors and all the tables and chairs. Maggie filled the glass counter display cases and made coffee at 7:30 for the 8:00 a.m. rush that usually hit them during the week.

There had been nothing left out after the police had finished searching for clues to find Lou’s killer. The shop wasn’t trashed, though, as they sometimes showed on TV police programs. She was glad they were neat about their job. She hadn’t looked forward to cleaning up an extra mess.
Everything looked just like they’d left it the day Lou was killed.

The shop smelled heavenly after all the frantic baking. Usually there were one or two pies to start with, but the police search had left them empty-handed. The three pies that had been there were destroyed.

Maggie made a sign on neon poster board for the front window that said Pie in the Sky was open for business. It replaced the Closed by Order of Durham PD sign that had been there. She hoped the investigation and ensuing publicity from the newspapers and TV stations wouldn’t close the shop down permanently.

She didn’t know what to expect. What if none of the customers came back again?

At seven forty-five right before they were going to open, Donna Davis, the blond, petite, always-tan owner of Triple Tan and Tattoo, knocked on the door. She had a basket almost as big as herself filled with flowers and fruit.

“Just wanted to let you know we were worried about you all and we’re glad to have you back.” The pink and purple tattoo butterfly on her cheek appeared to move its wings as she spoke. It had a riveting effect of making people stare at the tattoo during conversations with her.

Donna and Aunt Clara hugged each other tightly. They’d been friends since Triple Tan had opened a few years ago.

“You’re such a sweetheart,” Aunt Clara said. “I’m so glad to be back. I really missed this place.”

A few moments later, the owners of X-Press It, the UPS and mailbox store, came in to see how things were going. Artie Morgan and Rick Russell were fresh out of Duke. Aunt
Clara couldn’t tell them apart and always called them the twins.

Maggie had to admit they were about the same height and weight, short brown hair and brown eyes. They at least looked like brothers.

“Just wanted you to know we’re behind you, Clara. Glad you’re back again.”

“Thanks so much. That means a lot to me,” Aunt Clara said.

“I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going to sell the shop,” one of them—Maggie couldn’t tell them apart either—asked.

“Heavens no! This shop is my home away from home. It is certainly not for sale.”

They left with a lemon pie and a quart of coffee. Aunt Clara appreciated them buying the pie and coffee more than the big basket of flowers and fruit, since they were the first customers of the day.

“I have a good feeling about today,” she said as she had Maggie ring up the sale. “We’re going to be all right.”

By eight fifteen, the pie shop was packed. Saul Weissman from the Laundromat and Raji Singh from the grill had come by for pie and coffee during the rush. Raji gave Aunt Clara a statue of Ganesha. “He’s the Hindu god of overcoming obstacles. He’ll get you through this.”

Aunt Clara and Maggie thanked them as they rushed around serving pie with coffee and tea. It seemed as though all their customers who normally came on different days were there that morning to wish them well and ask questions about what had happened.

“I guess you were right,” Maggie told her aunt when they were still packed at nine thirty. “There must not be any bad publicity. Most of the people coming in now aren’t even regulars.”

“It helps to have friends too.” Aunt Clara quickly set four new pies in the oven. “Some of these people have been coming here since we first opened.”

“I hope we get some new regulars from these other people,” Maggie replied. “And that we don’t run out of coffee.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” Aunt Clara picked up the phone in the kitchen. “We missed our regular delivery day with Mr. Gino while we were closed. I’ll give him a call and see if he can swing by today sometime. He’s usually good about that kind of thing, although he charges a small service fee when it’s not his usual day.”

Frank came into the shop and looked around at all the people. He was lucky to find a chair and table where he sat down for a few minutes and had a cup of coffee. He didn’t say much to Maggie, just that he was glad people were back eating pie again.

She hated to admit it—she was glad when he left.

Angela from the book club came in, even though it wasn’t book club day. She brought Aunt Clara a new pie plate she’d made in her ceramics class. The top of it was covered in ceramic strawberries and lifted up to show the pie inside.

“I’m so happy for you.” She gave Aunt Clara a big hug. “I’m glad you’ve come out on top of this.”

But when Aunt Clara had gone back into the kitchen, Angela pulled Maggie aside and said, “Wouldn’t this have
been the smartest time to sell to Mann Development? I mean, the place was closed down. How well will it do from now on after the police investigation?”

Maggie definitely didn’t like Angela when she talked like this. “You can see we’re plenty busy right now. I think everything will be fine.”

Angela shrugged, her long blond hair falling across her shoulders. “I hope you’re right. If you change your mind, I’ll be happy to sit in on any agreement you come to with Mann Development. Just as a friend. I’ve worked with the company before.”

Maggie thanked her again. It was getting to be a little more difficult to thank Angela for help they clearly didn’t want or need. She wondered if Angela thought she could make some profit from this. Or if she might even be working with Mann Development.

Either way, Maggie was happy Aunt Clara wasn’t going to use the ceramic pie plate Angela gave her. It did make her think about displaying all those decorative pie plates Aunt Clara had saved but never used.

Albert Mann himself paid them a visit a little later in the day. He was wearing his usual black fedora and expensive black coat, even though it was barely cool enough for a light jacket.

He looked around the crowded pie shop as though he’d expected not to see anyone there. Then he turned around and walked back out without a word. He was probably disappointed. An empty pie shop might have meant a quick sale. Maggie was glad to see him go.

Mark Beck came in too. There was no place for him to
sit but he had pie and coffee anyway, leaning against the wall by the counter.

“I’m so sorry for your troubles,” he said. “I couldn’t believe they closed you down.”

“I know.” Maggie refilled his cup. “But we’re going to be okay.”

“Are you going to get your job back at the bank?” He took a bite of lemon meringue pie.

She stared at him, bright spots of color in her cheeks. Seriously, was she never going to get over being embarrassed about it?

“Sorry.” He chewed and swallowed his pie. “I read about you getting fired from the bank for embezzlement. Those newspaper people really go into a lot of detail, don’t they? I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Maggie.”

“That’s okay.” She wiped the counter with a rag. “I’m sure I could get my job with the bank back, but I don’t want it now. I’m going to help Aunt Clara make the pie shop profitable again.”

He grinned. “Brava! I know you have other marketable skills, but I like you here.”

“Thanks.” So everyone knew all about her past right now. It would be yesterday’s news within a week or two. In a year, no one would even remember it.

“I’ve got to be going.” He looked around the crowded room. “I heard this place—all the shops—are up for sale. Any truth in that?”

“It’s not true exactly. Mann Development wants to buy them and build a medical office complex. None of them are
actually for sale, as far as I know. I know Pie in the Sky isn’t.”