Plum Deadly (24 page)

“The laptop is issued by the bank for its employees.” He glared at Maggie. “When an employee is dismissed, especially under circumstances like Ms. Grady’s, the bank takes the laptop back. Ms. Grady understood that she was to keep no bank property upon her dismissal. Because of this, we could change our minds at this point and decide to prosecute her for theft.”

The veins in his temple and neck were standing out and his face got very red. Maggie was worried Stan was going to have a stroke before she could accuse him of killing Lou.

Frank nodded. “How could Ron here look at this laptop from the outside and tell anything about it?” He turned the laptop over. “It looks like any other black laptop of this brand to me.”

Ron swallowed hard. “It’s of the same brand and type issued by the bank. I knew it immediately.”

“Except this one is mine,” Maggie argued. “I have the receipt for it. It never belonged to the bank. You broke into my home to get it. You didn’t say anything at the pie shop to me about it—if you were
really
there.”

Everyone looked at Stan. He cleared his throat and looked annoyed that he was being forced to defend himself. “We believed it belonged to the bank, Detective Waters. We
have a great deal of trouble with former employees using their laptops to hack into bank files. That’s why we retrieve the laptops from our employees, especially those who have been terminated.”

“Has Ms. Grady done anything of that nature with this laptop?” Frank asked.

“We haven’t been able to verify that as yet,” Stan said. “The laptop will have to go back to the bank and be checked by our IT experts.”

“That’s not happening right now, sir.” Frank put the laptop on a side table and added a large red evidence sticker to it. “This laptop is now part of an investigation into a breaking and entering at Mrs. Clara Lowder’s home. It can’t be released to anyone until the case is closed.”

Stan’s mouth tightened. “I believe there has been some misconduct on Ron’s part. He was a little overzealous about procuring the laptop.”

“Good. Now we’re getting somewhere,” Frank said. “So Ron will admit to breaking into Mrs. Lowder’s home and stealing the laptop?”

Unhappily, Ron looked at his employer and nodded. “I was only doing what I thought was right for the bank.”

Frank nodded at Maggie. “Your turn. You admit to stealing the laptop from the Islebs’ hotel room?”

“What? No. I didn’t steal it.” She was shocked that Frank would ask her that after Ron’s confession.

Frank glanced at Stan. “You want to press charges against Maggie?”

“Yes. I certainly do.” Stan was defiant.

“Fine.” Frank shrugged. “I’ll put you both in jail right now.”

That resulted in a loud argument with everyone denying any wrongdoing.

Frank whistled loudly between his teeth. When the room was quiet, he said, “Or you can both forget pressing charges against each other and we can settle this the easy way.”

“How’s that?” Maggie demanded.

“Let’s take a look at the laptop,” Frank suggested. “If it isn’t bank property, it goes back to you, Maggie. You don’t press charges against Ron. Stan doesn’t press charges against you for taking back your property. Everyone goes home and I don’t do any paperwork tonight.”

They finally agreed after a whispered conversation between Stan and Ron and a thumbs-up from Ryan to Maggie.

Maggie and Frank stood beside Ron and Stan as Ryan turned on the laptop. Frank had designated Ryan for this task since he was an outsider.

A few moments passed as they all got to look at part of Maggie’s personal journal and some pictures of good-looking male models in her email. Her face was hot and red when Ryan winked at her. She vowed never to keep personal information on a laptop again.

When it was over, Stan had to admit it wasn’t bank property after all. He didn’t even demand that Maggie go back home and get the receipt for it.

“The bank purchases better quality laptops than this one for their employees.” Stan was dismissive as he walked around to the other side of the desk.

Maggie was relieved it was over. She agreed not to press
charges against Stan and Ron and close the case so she could have the laptop.

Stan agreed to forget that Maggie had taken the laptop from his hotel suite. He and Ron were ready to leave.

Frank got up. “Now that we have that settled, Mr. Isleb, maybe you could tell me why you were already in Durham before your brother-in-law died.”

P
ardon?” Stan drew
himself up proudly.

“You were already here before Lou Goldberg was killed. You didn’t hop a plane and head down this way after you got the news. Isn’t that right, sir?”

“I had business.” Stan didn’t deny the accusation.

“Was this business with someone who can give you an alibi for the time Mr. Goldberg was killed?”

“I don’t know what time that was, Detective Waters. I assure you I was either with my wife or with Ron.”

“Forgive me for wanting an alibi from either someone you aren’t married to or someone you don’t own. Got any
other ideas? Our medical examiner figures the poison was administered at about eight a.m.”

“Poison?” Stan glanced at Maggie. “I thought
she
was your suspect.”

“No. She spoke with your brother-in-law hours after that. He was already dying. She was at the pie shop when he was poisoned.”

“You think I had something to do with it?”

“Did you?” Frank asked.

“You’ll have to ask my attorney, Detective Waters. That’s all I’m saying on the subject. Ron, we’re leaving. Good evening to you all.”

After the door closed behind Ron and Stan, Frank shook his head. “I don’t like that man.”

“No one does,” Maggie assured him. “Thanks for helping me get my laptop back.”

He shook his pencil at her. “Don’t ever do anything stupid like that again. I might not be able to bail you out next time.”

“I won’t,” she promised. “What about Stan? What are you going to do about him?”

“The first thing I plan to do, since I’m already here, is to make you sit down right now and write out that list of people from the bank that you promised me. I don’t know what they’re doing in New York about the bank theft. We still have a homicide to solve.”

Maggie sat down and wrote the names of everyone she could think of from the bank who could be involved in either the theft or Lou’s death. Or both.

It wasn’t a particularly long list. She didn’t know many
people outside of her department. She didn’t mention her flash drive. She didn’t have it with her anyway. Besides, she felt sure Stan was the killer.

“Do I want to know how you found out Isleb was in Durham before Goldberg died?” Frank asked Ryan.

“You could find out yourself by checking his cell phone records,” Ryan suggested.

“Not that you did any such thing, right?”

Ryan shrugged. “Where would I get that kind of information?”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Both of you get out of here. Let us figure the rest of this out, okay? Even though you’re a reporter, Ryan, you don’t have any business sticking your nose in this for a story. And you”—he pointed at Maggie—“need to worry about making pies. Is everyone clear on that?”

Ryan and Maggie both nodded solemnly. Both knew they would break their vows to Frank if it was necessary.

Maggie handed Frank her list of bank employees. “I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful. I didn’t work inside the bank a lot. These are people I knew and people I remember Lou mentioning. I think we both know that the only name we need is Stan’s.”

“I think we need more evidence before we can say that. And by we, I mean
me
. This has nothing to do with you anymore, Maggie. We’ll find out what we need to know about Stan.”

“I’m sure you will,” she agreed.

Frank looked at the names. “What do you think Isleb was looking for on your laptop?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Even if it had been the laptop
I got from the bank, I can’t imagine what he thought he’d find.”

Ryan added. “We both thought Stan wanted to know what Maggie knew about Lou’s death.”

“There isn’t anything like that on the laptop,” Maggie assured Frank, hoping he wouldn’t want it back again.

“Maybe it was that strong sense of duty Ron confessed to,” Frank said. “Something about it doesn’t smell right to me. I guess I’ll have to chase Mr. Isleb down and ask him that question.”

Ryan shook Frank’s hand before they left. “Thanks for all your help.”

Frank glared at him. “I’m not helping you. This is my job. Stay out of trouble. Next time, I’ll lock you both up if you get in my business.”

Maggie and Ryan didn’t argue. They walked out of the almost-empty police station and got into his Honda.

“Now what?” she asked. “That was kind of a letdown as far as solutions go. I was hoping Stan would confess and that would be it. My name would be clear.”

“Now we let Frank do his job.” Ryan started the car. “Your name is clear as far as the murder is concerned and mostly clear about the embezzlement.”

“What if Stan leaves before Frank can figure out he’s the killer?”

“Then they’ll track him back to New York,” Ryan said. “I don’t think there’s anything else we can do at this point without making Frank really angry. I wouldn’t want to do that for several reasons.”

Maggie wasn’t as convinced, but she was out of brilliant ideas for the moment.

Realizing they were both starved since they’d skipped dinner, they made a quick stop at the McDonald’s drive-through. Hamburgers, shakes, and fries had never tasted so good as they did in the parking lot that night.

They drove through the late-night traffic to Aunt Clara’s house after they were finished, both silent as they went through what had happened in their minds.

When they reached the house, Ryan turned off the car and faced her. “He’s bound to slip up somewhere. Maybe there’ll be something on Lou’s laptop that the NYPD is going through right now. I think we’re getting close. And what a story!”

Maggie opened the door and got out. She was a little annoyed that Ryan thought of the things happening in her life as stories. She supposed he was hardwired that way. It was his job, after all.

Ryan kissed her good night at the front door and she went inside, deciding not to say anything about it.

After making sure both doors were locked, Maggie went to bed. She couldn’t believe her aunt had gone to bed with both doors unlocked. Obviously, she wasn’t as affected by people breaking into the house as Maggie was.

Maggie stared at the dark ceiling for a long time, going over everything in her mind.

It bothered her that Lou had probably been killed because he’d wanted to make what had happened to her right. Didn’t she owe him something for that effort?

She was still convinced finding the killer might also mean finding the thief. That was what she really wanted—to clear that part of her life too.

There had to be a way.

• • •

T
he next morning
a steady, hard rain pummeled the city. Maggie’s head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. The sooner she and Aunt Clara got to the pie shop and got the coffee going, the better.

The large pile of her mother’s dressier clothes was gone from the foot of the bed. She hadn’t even noticed the night before. In its place was a small wooden box painted with flowers.

Maggie got dressed in her usual jeans and T-shirt. She brushed her teeth, combed her hair, and washed her face. Then she sat down and looked in the little box.

The box was filled with recipes for all kinds of foods, from pie fillings and crusts to meat and potatoes. Each card was carefully filled out in a neat, flowery script that was easy to read.

“Your mother’s recipe box.” Aunt Clara came to check on her. “I found it under that pile of clothes I took to the cleaners last night. I didn’t even realize we had that.”

Maggie hugged her. “I didn’t want you to pay to have the clothes cleaned. Thanks.”

“I didn’t.” She handed Maggie a check and a piece of paper. “You’ve worked very hard the last six weeks and haven’t even asked for a paycheck. I’m not a slave driver, you know. This is for your time.”

Maggie looked at it in surprise. “You’re supporting me with food and a place to stay. You bought my laptop and my phone and pretty much everything else since I got back.”

“You’ll find the paper I gave you is an itemized list of money you’ve spent. We’ll work out a payment plan, eventually. In the meantime, a girl has to have some money in her pocket. Now, let’s get going. Rainy cold mornings are good for coffee and pie. We’ll be busy today.”

They each had a slice of toast with peanut butter for breakfast then set out for the pie shop, Maggie holding a big black umbrella over them both as they walked.

The streets and sidewalks were drenched with the rain that had fallen all night. Puddles splashed up as cars went slowly by them on their way to work and school. A brisk wind made sure the umbrella didn’t keep them completely dry.

Once they were at Pie in the Sky, Maggie tried to be more careful with her piecrust. It wasn’t easy. She watched Aunt Clara’s patient, gentle hands as they worked the crust lightly yet got the job done. Her fingers didn’t seem to want to do what she was asking of them.