Plum Deadly (25 page)

She thought about her mother’s recipe box—the recipe for coconut cream pie in particular. It was the pie Aunt Clara never made, never ate, because no one could make it like her sister.

Maggie contemplated what seemed like the impossible. She wanted to make that pie for her aunt. She wanted to show her how much she meant to her. She realized if she botched it, it might be worse than not making it at all.

She felt a little presumptuous even contemplating the task. If Aunt Clara felt like no one, including her, could
make the coconut cream pie as well as her sister had, what were Maggie’s chances?

She wasn’t sure. It seemed like the right thing to do. She supposed that was going to be the mantra for her new life. She’d have to try and make sure she didn’t overwork the crust.

She and Aunt Clara made a dozen crusts for the pie of the day, Pumpkin Pizzazz. Aunt Clara had decided they were close enough to the holidays to get people interested in the spicy pumpkin flavor.

Maggie fluted the crusts, pleased with the results. As soon as her aunt began to fill the empty shells, she went out to start the coffee and get the shop ready to open. That included setting up the cash register, something Aunt Clara had stopped doing once she saw Maggie could handle it.

After working for the bank, Maggie couldn’t imagine allowing someone else to take over her finances. It was a personal choice for her. Aunt Clara must not have felt that way in her youth, since Uncle Fred had handled everything financial.

The shop was half an hour from opening as Maggie looked out at the gray streets in the misty morning light. She was drinking her second cup of coffee, pondering how much it would cost to put in an espresso machine. She could have really used a triple-shot latte that morning. She’d have to talk to Mr. Gino about it.

Only this time, she’d haggle over the price. Aunt Clara wasn’t much for haggling.

The refrigerator they’d bought from Mr. Gino’s nephew was too expensive—she’d looked it up online. Still, they
were paying for convenience, she had to admit, and same-day service. She had to figure that into the cost too. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. She was going to have to get much smarter about the restaurant business.

The world was waking up and she felt like she was waking up too, for the first time in a long while.

Before the first customer came in and the day got crazy, Maggie emailed Claudia Liggette and told her she wouldn’t be taking the plum job she had offered.

She thanked her longtime friend and promised to call soon. Then she sat down and thought about what she’d done and what her future would be as partner in the pie shop.

But not for long.

There was a faint rap at the front glass door. Maggie looked out. It was Jane Isleb. She looked like she’d been out in the rain all night without an umbrella. Her brown hair was plastered to her head and her face was pale. Her clothes and shoes were dripping with moisture, probably ruined.

Maggie hurried to open the glass door and let the other woman in the shop. She wondered if Jane and Stan had a fight, or if something even worse had happened.

“Are you okay? Can I get you some coffee?”

“Thank you.” Jane’s response was a ragged whisper. Her shoes squelched as she walked across the tile floor and carefully sat down.

Maggie got her a cup of coffee and wished she had a towel to offer. She even tried not to mind that a large puddle of water was forming that would have to be mopped up before they opened. She offered Jane something to eat, but she didn’t want anything.

Aunt Clara looked out of the window between the kitchen and the shop. Maggie shrugged at the question in her sharp, green eyes.

“I suppose you’ve already heard the news.” Jane took an unsteady sip of coffee.

“We’ve been kind of busy setting up,” Maggie replied. “What’s happened?”

“Stan has been arrested.” Jane let out a long sigh that seemed to come from deep inside her. She shook her head and pushed the coffee cup handle away from her. “It happened early this morning. Right after midnight. The police came to the hotel for him. It was horrible.”

“What?” Maggie was surprised to hear that and wondered if they’d arrested him for the theft or the murder. She hoped it was both. “How did it happen?”

“It was the police in New York, apparently. They broke into Lou’s computer at the bank. That information led them to Stan. He’s being accused of stealing millions.”

Unconsciously, Maggie let out a sigh of relief. She couldn’t help it. This news meant her name would be cleared for everyone to see, with Lou’s help and his sacrifice.

She’d always wonder if he’d known the truth when he’d fired her. Had he felt guilty? Was that why he couldn’t leave it alone?

It had cost him his life to prove it to the world. No matter how it had come about, Maggie couldn’t help but feel grateful to Lou for what he’d done.

Jane smiled in a forlorn way. “That’s right. You’re off the hook. At least for embezzlement. There will probably be a nice settlement coming your way from the bank. Don’t
take the first amount they offer you. They’re bound to do better with the second one. Remember, you’re the wronged party here. Don’t let them cheat you.”

“Thanks. I’m so sorry about Stan.” Maggie tried to think of a nice way to ask if Stan had also killed Lou as he tried to cover his tracks.

She looked at Jane’s face and couldn’t say the words. As much as Maggie had lost, Jane had lost so much more. Even if Stan didn’t kill Lou, her brother was dead and her husband was going to prison.

That didn’t stop Aunt Clara, who’d wandered out of the kitchen. “Do the police think Stan killed Lou?”

Maggie wouldn’t have thought it was possible for Jane’s face to become a worse shade of gray—it did. It was hard to say if she was crying or if it was still the rain streaming down her cheeks.

“I don’t know. Surely not. They were family. We were family before all of this. Even with knowing what Lou meant to do—”

“Stan knew that Lou was going to expose him?” Maggie asked with a gasp.

Jane nodded. “Lou called him. He called me too. I tried to reason with him that morning. But you know Lou. He was like a bulldog. Nothing I said made any difference. He was determined to do whatever he had to do to clear your name, Maggie. That’s why I was so sure the two of you were romantically involved. He was willing to ruin his life, other people’s lives too. I never realized my brother had such an overdeveloped conscience.”

“At least he tried to do what was right, bless his soul,”
Aunt Clara said before going back into the kitchen as the oven timer chimed.

Maggie had left the front door open and two customers came in, almost as soaked as Jane. She went to take their orders and when she looked back, Jane was gone. After getting pie and coffee for the men who’d come in, she sat down behind the counter.

For the first time since she got back, she felt like she could take a deep breath. She wanted to stand back and think about her future. She wanted to cry and scream in her relief. She didn’t have that luxury, though, as more customers came in out of the rain. She felt as if her old life was over and something new was finally beginning.

Ryan came in about twenty minutes later with the news of Stan’s arrest. He bemoaned his fate that the newspaper wouldn’t be out for another week. “That will make Stan’s arrest old news, I’m afraid. I’ll have to come up with something fresh for my readers.”

Maggie poured him a cup of coffee. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and they’ll announce that Stan killed Lou in time for the next edition.”

Ryan was immediately contrite. “Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s what I do.”

“I know. I probably wouldn’t mind as much if it didn’t involve me. Seriously, do you think they’ll be able to put the two together?”

“Frank doesn’t expect that. They thought so to begin with because of Stan’s ties with a company in this area that makes arsenic pentoxide. It looked good to begin with.”

“Then?”

“They couldn’t find any trace of the arsenic on him, in the hotel, or in his car. Also, Stan has an alibi for that eight a.m. time frame when Lou was poisoned. He was out jogging with some other bank president.”

“And that’s that.” Maggie nodded. It still wasn’t over.

“Maybe not. Frank said he plans to seriously question Ron since he loved the bank enough to steal your laptop.”

“That would be a whole new level of dedication,” Maggie agreed.

“Frank said the police task force in New York thought this wasn’t the first time Stan has taken money from the bank. He’d been experiencing losses in his stock portfolio for the last five years. They think he might have stolen more than fifty million dollars and blamed it on other people.” Ryan smiled at her. “People like you.”

She nodded, almost too choked up to speak. “I know. Jane said to expect the bank to compensate me. She said not to take the first offer.”

“Sounds like good advice,” he said. “Have you made a decision yet on that job opportunity?”

“I’m not going to take it. I’m not leaving Aunt Clara again.”

“You’re sure?” He took her hand. “You’re staying?”

The door chimed and Clara called out that there was a customer coming in.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

It was Albert Mann with Mark Beck right behind him. They didn’t sit down. They stood in the middle of the shop, looking around.

The king surveying the peasants,
Maggie thought.

He still made her nervous even though she realized it was unfounded. She’d never been more careful with anything in her life than she was with her aunt’s finances in this matter. There was nothing he could do to them. Now that she wasn’t leaving Durham, he’d have to deal with her too. Aunt Clara wasn’t alone anymore.

“Can I get something for you?” Her tone was a lot less friendly than it would have been if he had been anyone else.

“We’re not here for coffee and sweets.” He waved her away with his cane. “I want to speak to Clara. This is the last opportunity she’s going to have.”

S
he’s busy,”
Maggie said. “You’ll have to make an appointment.”

She certainly wasn’t going to bother her aunt for one of Mann’s many threats.

He snarled at her. “Get her out here now, young woman. I’m tired of your attitude.”

All the talk that had been going on in the pie shop slowly died away. That made Mann’s words seem unnaturally loud in the quiet that was left behind.

“I also think your aunt should question
your
intentions.” He continued raging at Maggie. “You’re going to leave
again now that you’ve been cleared of stealing from the bank. Have you told her? Are you planning to leave a helpless old woman alone again to fend for herself ?”

No one said anything. Maggie simmered. She was torn between not making the situation any worse in front of their customers and cutting Albert Mann down to size.

Aunt Clara wandered out of the kitchen into that uncomfortable silence. She was wiping her hands on a clean towel. Her blue-and-white-checkered apron was covered with flour. There was even a white smudge on her cheek. She pushed a stray lock of her hair from her face and got down to business.

“If you’re not here for pie, Albert, you should leave,” Aunt Clara told him. “We don’t have time to sit down and talk with you about your crazy schemes. Shouting at my niece, who by the way is now my legal partner, won’t change anything. We’re not selling the shop to you and that’s that.”

He took off his fedora and nodded to her, his demeanor changing completely as he faced her. “I think you should know that your niece is indeed leaving you again, Clara. No matter what she’s told you. A friend of mine in New York got a résumé from her. Now that she has been exonerated of wrongdoing in the bank theft, she won’t think twice about leaving you alone again. I want to give you one last chance to sell this place before the deal is off the table.”

Aunt Clara didn’t even glance at Maggie for confirmation of his words. “This is our place, Albert. I don’t care what you found out. It’s not for sale. Now go away. I’m very busy.”

He frowned. “You know, I promised Fred I’d look out for you before he passed. I’m only making good on that promise. He wouldn’t want you to lose the shop because you forgot to pay your taxes, would he?”

Aunt Clara’s mouth was set in a tight line in her pretty face. “Don’t try to bamboozle me, Albert. You promised Fred no such thing. It does you an injustice to be standing here saying this in front of all these people. Find someplace else for your building. Maybe you can have this property when I die and Maggie sells it to you.”

“Very well.” He drew himself up proudly and put his hat back on. “You leave me no choice. Don’t expect me to change my mind when your niece is gone and you’re alone, Clara. I wash my hands of you.”

He turned sharply, almost colliding with Mark. They stormed out of the pie shop together—a little like the Batman and Robin of the development market. A thunderous applause followed him as everyone there congratulated Aunt Clara on her victory.

Her face pink with embarrassment—and a little pride—Aunt Clara went back to the kitchen.