Plum Deadly (20 page)

R
yan and Garrett
both got to their feet when they saw Maggie and Aunt Clara. The restaurant wasn’t crowded. It looked like the two couples would get all the attention they wanted plus some.

The Bombay Grill was opulently decorated in bright red and gold. There was pleasing, soft sitar music playing in the background and the lights were low. There had once been an ice cream store here. Maggie remembered sneaking over for small tastes of different flavors when she was a child.

She hadn’t been in the Bombay Grill since she got back.
Maggie wasn’t a big fan of Indian food. She liked Thai better. She had to admit that her meal was delicious, though.

Aunt Clara ate very little. She didn’t particularly like anything spicy or hot. Ryan and Garrett ate heartily. Their hosts lingered, asking if they needed anything, for the first thirty minutes. After that, they went to check on new guests who had come in.

It was a relief to Maggie, who wasn’t used to that much attention while she ate. Raji had asked her a dozen times if the food was good.

“So what’s the next move?” Garrett asked when they were drinking tea after their meal.

“I’m waiting to hear from Sarge,” Ryan said. “He’s getting me Lou Goldberg’s cell phone records.”

Garrett nodded his approval. “He’s a good man. I’m sure he’ll come through for you.”

“I don’t know what that will tell us,” Maggie said. “Even if Lou talked to people, that doesn’t mean they had anything to do with what happened to him. He used to call me every day when we were working together.”

“It might give us someplace to start.” Ryan shrugged. “Otherwise, you knew him better than anyone. What do you suggest?”

Maggie told him what Claudia had said about Lou being in trouble. “When I talked to his sister, Jane, she didn’t mention that to me. Maybe we should go and talk to her again. I know where she’s staying. There might be something she knows that we’re missing.”

“I’m up for that,” Ryan agreed. “Even if she doesn’t know who killed him, she might be able to clue us in on what
led up to it. Maybe if we knew how Lou got the information proving who’d stolen the money from the bank, we could figure something out from that.”

“Exactly.” Maggie didn’t tell him about the subtle and not-so-subtle hints that she might have been having an affair with Lou. Garrett offered to take Aunt Clara home. Maggie and Ryan took his car to the Hilton Hotel where Lou’s sister was staying. The large structure was highlighted by floodlights against the dark sky. Cars were waiting in line to drop off their luggage at the front door.

“I’m really sorry about the newspaper today,” Ryan said again. “I don’t know what people will think when they read my article after reading my dad’s. At the very least, I think it will be confusing. I think they deserve to know the truth. I hope we don’t lose a lot of subscribers. This isn’t exactly a rapidly growing business.”

“I don’t know. Even the
New York Times
and the
Washington Post
make mistakes and print corrections and clarifications. Honestly, I’m not as worried about what people who read the paper think. I was beginning to feel like I couldn’t trust anyone if I couldn’t trust you. I know it’s your livelihood and you feel differently.”

Ryan pulled the Honda into a visitor parking space at the hotel. “I appreciate the difference. This is your life, Maggie. I’ll try not to let you down again.”

She smiled. “I’m sure you won’t.”

They kissed for a few minutes then held hands as they walked into the hotel lobby.

The interior was nicely furnished, not opulent. Maggie had stayed in elegant, expensive hotels around the world.
This one looked like Durham to her—clean, friendly, and home.

The clerk at the front desk rang the Islebs’ hotel room after Ryan had asked for Jane. Maggie tapped her fingers impatiently on the arm of the chair while they waited. She looked at all the people going by, wondering about them and the business that brought them here.

Jane finally came down a few minutes later, looking like she’d been asleep. Her eyes were red and she was sniffing into a handkerchief. Her hair and clothes were mussed. It looked like she’d smeared on too much lipstick and hadn’t noticed. The woman was a complete wreck.

“I’m sorry it took me so long. I fell asleep.” She smiled and apologized. “I don’t mean to rush you, but Stan is due back anytime. I-I don’t know how he’d feel about you being here.”

Maggie introduced Ryan and the three of them sat in the coffee shop. She wasn’t sure how to bring up what she wanted to ask Jane—how could she say, “I think your brother was in trouble before he came down here to bail me out. What do you know about it?” Most people were protective of their siblings.

She didn’t have to ask. Ryan posed the question in almost the same words.

At first, Jane paled and drank her coffee silently, not looking at them. When she finally spoke, her voice was hesitant. “I think what Lou said about knowing who’d stolen the money was true. At least at first. He started poking into things, looking around. There may have been threats against him because of it.”

She sighed and wiped her eyes with the handkerchief. “He took a leave of absence from the bank. It seemed as though his whole life was falling apart. He was scared the last time I spoke to him. I think he knew someone was coming for him.”

“You have no idea who that could be?” Ryan asked. “He never gave you any hint of what he’d learned or who he thought was the real thief ?”

“No. I told Maggie that when we talked. I was hoping she might know. I don’t think Lou told anyone because he wasn’t sure who to trust.”

“Except for the person who killed him,” Maggie said. “I think he told the wrong person.”

“You might be right. I don’t know. I hope the police can figure it out. My nerves are shot with all these questions and everyone wanting to know why Lou didn’t tell me what was going on. We were close, but he wasn’t himself the last few weeks.”

“Did your brother have any dealings with local real estate?” Ryan asked her.

“Local? You mean
here
?” Jane said it like Durham was the most unlikely place her brother could possibly have dealings with anyone. “I don’t think so.”

Ryan glanced at Maggie. “Just trying to link the two possibilities together.”

“What two possibilities?” Jane questioned.

Maggie explained about her aunt’s property and Albert Mann’s desire for it.

“Lou wasn’t into real estate, as far as I know,” Jane said. “He may have known this Mann person—it’s possible he was
a client of the bank. I’ve never heard his name before. Have you, Maggie? You probably still know more about any business Lou might have been working on than I do.”

Maggie had to admit she’d never heard of Albert Mann while she’d worked for the bank. “It was just an idea. We’re not really sure which direction to look in.”

Jane nodded. “I appreciate your enthusiasm. If the police were like you two, they’d probably already have Lou’s killer in custody. I’m sure they’ll eventually figure out what really happened.”

She glanced at her cell phone. Her face became even paler and her eyes looked worried. “That’s Stan. He’s on his way back. I-I have to go upstairs. I hope you understand.”

Maggie and Ryan said good night and left the coffee shop after watching Jane get on the elevator to go back to her suite.

“She seems to be taking it hard.” Ryan shook his head. “I’m an only child. I can’t imagine how bad it must be for her.”

“I’m an only child too,” Maggie said. “I always wanted to have a brother or sister. Mostly a brother. I was kind of a tomboy growing up. Girls always seemed too prissy.”

“I wonder why Lou talked to her about finding the real thief but didn’t tell her who it was,” Ryan said. “She’s different from a business associate like you or Stan. He could’ve confided in her without having to worry if she’d tell someone.”

“I guess he didn’t want to involve her. I know that feeling. I wish Aunt Clara could’ve been spared the last few days.”

“Now she and Stan are stuck here until the medical examiner releases Lou’s body,” Ryan mused. “People don’t expect their loved ones to be murdered.”

As though thinking of Stan Isleb made him materialize, Ryan opened the glass door for them to leave the hotel, and there he was.

He frowned when he recognized Maggie. “What do you want? Are you looking for me?”

“No.” Maggie glanced at Ryan thinking she could understand why Jane was reluctant to have Stan know anyone was there talking to her about Lou. They needed to protect their “source.” “We were here for . . . a meeting.”

“That’s right. The city council holds their meetings here sometimes.” Ryan put out his hand. “Ryan Summerour, sir, owner and publisher of the
Durham Weekly
.”

Maggie could see Stan didn’t want to shake Ryan’s hand. He did finally unbend enough to do it, a grimace on his face.

“And you were here for a city council meeting?” Stan speared Maggie with his cold gaze. “Why would you care what happens at a city council meeting? You’re a waitress at a pie shop!”

“It involves my aunt’s pie shop.” She’d almost forgotten how rude he could be. He was famous for it at the bank. “She needs—rezoning.”

Maggie went on to explain, in terrible, boring detail, about the medical office building and how Albert Mann wanted to take her aunt’s property. Anything to keep him from guessing the truth about their real mission and keep him from confronting Jane.

That seemed to do it for Stan. His furrowed brow wasn’t
quite as furrowed. What was left was his normal expression of displeasure with the world.

“I see,” was his only remark. “Well, good night, then, Ms. Grady, Mr. Summerour.”

Maggie was glad to walk out and would have done so.

Ryan spoke up, pushing it one step further. “Since you’re here, Mr. Isleb, would you care to comment on your brother-in-law’s death for the paper?”

Stan’s frown deepened again. “No. No comment. Excuse me.” He pushed by them and stalked into the lobby, not looking back.

“He’s a pleasant person.” Ryan watched the other man head toward the elevators as his wife had done moments before.

“I never had much to do with him, thankfully. Lou never had much to say about him. I guess that’s why I never even knew they were related.”

They walked back to the car, talking about what Jane had said—or really hadn’t said. The parking lot was full with people coming and going to the hotel. Traffic was still heavy despite the later hour. The threat of rain hung heavy in the air along with the smell of onion rings and fried chicken from the nearby fast food restaurant.

“I guess that’s all we can do until we get some kind of lead,” Ryan said. “I hope that will be from the cell phone records. I’ll give Sarge another call tonight and see if I can speed him up.”

Maggie had been staring out the window, lost in her thoughts, as Ryan started the car and left the parking lot.

“Maggie? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She told him about Claudia’s job offer. “It’s what I’ve been living for the last few months. I’ve dreamed of nothing else since I was fired. It feels like the opportunity to prove to everyone that I’m not a thief and that I can handle working a tough job again.”

Ryan was silent until he stopped at a red light on the corner. “You know, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone. I’m sure your aunt never believed you were capable of theft, much less murder. I know I couldn’t believe it right after I met you. I don’t think anyone would.”

“Thanks.” Maggie sighed. “I’d really made my mind up not to go back before I got this call. Aunt Clara needs me to help her run the pie shop. I realize that. I don’t think she can take care of everything by herself anymore. She doesn’t want to give it up—which is why she won’t take Albert Mann’s very healthy offer.”

“Now you’re not sure?”

“Would you be? If the police wanted you to take a job with them, wouldn’t you at least
think
about it since it was your first dream?”

“I don’t know. I’m not the same person that I was ten years ago when I took over the paper. I like getting information the way the police do, without the threat of constant danger. I’m not sure I’d want to actually do the work now.”

She smiled at him. “I guess that’s me. I’m not sure either. Aunt Clara has always been there for me, no matter what. I feel like I owe her something.”

“You can’t build your whole life on that. I understand.”

He parked the car in front of Aunt Clara’s house and turned off the engine. It was dark and quiet in the car.

“Of course, I have a stake in this decision.” He smiled and kissed her. “I’d hate to lose you after just finding you.”

“I won’t be lost. Durham is only a short flight from New York.”

“And how many of those short flights did you take in the ten years you worked for the bank?”

“Not enough.” She smiled and kissed him. “I know what you mean. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Maggie went inside and found that Aunt Clara had put all of her insurance records in a box on the desk in the living room for her. She sat down at the desk and waded into them, glad to have something to occupy her mind.

Most of the paperwork went into the trash can since it was twenty years old or more. She read notes Uncle Fred had handwritten to his insurance agent in his slanted, left-hand script. She separated the insurance policies for the house from the policies for the pie shop.

When she’d finished sorting through everything, there was no current insurance policy for Pie in the Sky. There hadn’t been since Uncle Fred had died. Maggie said a little prayer of gratitude that the worst that had happened to the pie shop was the electric wires being cut. Aunt Clara wouldn’t have been covered for any major loss.

Her aunt came downstairs when she heard Maggie come in. She’d sat beside her as Maggie searched through the box of paperwork.

She shook her head when she heard Maggie’s verdict. “I can’t believe I can be so forgetful, especially about something
so important. I can remember perfectly how to make any kind of pie without even glancing at a recipe. Why can’t I remember these other things?”