The Postman Always Purls Twice (8 page)

Alicia did not look pleased. In fact, she looked very alarmed. “You'd better put that down, Maggie. Please. We can't be too careful.”

Alicia looked worried and Maggie quickly did as she was told. Though she wondered what menace might lurk in the beautiful bouquet, besides a few thorns on the rose stems.

“Jen has some really obsessive fans. You wouldn't believe some of the things they do to get close to her,” Alicia confided in a hushed tone.

“Can I come out now?” Jen asked in a playful, singsong tone. “Is the coast clear?”

She stood in the doorway, a silhouette backlit from the lights within the shop. Maggie saw that her friends had gathered in the front room as well, and were standing just behind the movie star. Saying good night, perhaps.

As Jennifer began to walk out to the porch, a voice called out from the empty street: “Jennifer! I love you! We were made for each other . . . We need to be together now . . . You came back . . . to be with me . . . finally.”

“Get back in the shop! Quickly!” Alicia spun and pushed Jen back inside, then slammed the door closed behind her.

Maggie was left alone on the porch. She knocked on the door with one hand behind her back, afraid to take her eyes off the street. She swallowed hard, staring out at the empty scene.

Not a shadow stirred. She had no idea where the voice had come from. From across the street somewhere? It had seemed so at first. But she wasn't sure.

Suddenly, it sounded closer. Much closer.

“Jen . . . please. Don't run away . . . Don't be like that. It makes me so . . . upset.”

The voice didn't sound upset. More like angry. And louder . . . and closer. Though Maggie still couldn't see anyone as she huddled against the door, peering into the darkness.

“Let me in! You've locked me out here!” she called to her friends, trying hard not to sound panicked.

Finally, the door flew open. Maggie practically fell into the shop, but Phoebe caught her, her own face pale with concern. Suzanne yanked Maggie's arm and pulled her aside while Dana slammed the door again and twisted the locks.

“Maggie . . . get in here! What are you doing?”

“What do you mean? I got locked out,” Maggie insisted.

But before anyone replied or even tried to explain, Lucy ran out of the storeroom. “I locked the side door. Just to be safe.” Alicia stood huddled next to Jennifer, as if ready to block a bullet.

“Did you see anyone?” Alicia asked Maggie.

Maggie shook her head, feeling silly now. It was just a lovelorn fan. Obviously. “I didn't see a thing. I wonder how your admirer knew you were here, Jennifer.”

“I do have some overly enthusiastic fans. It comes with the territory,” Jennifer said calmly.

“They stalk her. They're obsessed. They crawl out of the woodwork. They leave these scary notes on her fan page.” Alicia shivered with a chill.

“I think we should call the police. At least report the incident. They can take the flowers away and examine them,” Maggie added.

She doubted the roses were rigged to cause the star harm. But what did she know about passionate, besotted fans?

“Oh no . . . don't do that. Nick will have a fit.” She sounded more worried about her husband's reaction than about the stalker, Maggie noticed. “I slipped away from the inn tonight without telling him. He thinks I turned in early.”

Maggie wondered where Nick Pullman was. Not in the hotel room he shared with his wife? Or did that mean they were staying in separate rooms?

“He hates negative publicity,” Alicia added. “We'll tell Victor,” she added, mentioning the security guard again. “He knows what to do.”

Maggie nodded. It did make sense. The movie people had their own experienced security staff who would know how to deal with crazy fans.

Another knock sounded. Alicia ran to the shop's front window. “It's Victor. Rick is with him. I see the car there, too.” Alicia sounded relieved. “I'll just call and explain what happened. They might want to check the street before you come out.”

The star nodded. She did seem a little apprehensive about going outside now.

“Good idea,” Suzanne said. “You can't be too careful these days.”

“No . . . you can't,” Jennifer agreed quietly.

There was an awkward silence while the women waited for the security guards to call back. But a few moments later, Alicia's phone buzzed and she glanced over at Jennifer.

“He says it's fine. They're waiting on the porch.”

A look of relief flashed across Jennifer's lovely features, quickly replaced by one of her trademark brilliant smiles.

“So sorry for the surprise ending to your meeting. And all this drama.” She rolled her eyes, as if they'd all shared a big joke.

“No apology necessary. We're glad there's no harm done. Thanks again for the invitation to visit the set,” Maggie added.

“Yes, hope to see you there.” Jennifer bid them all good night again, departing with her authentic Black Sheep Knitting Shop tote tucked under her arm.

Alicia quickly said good night as the two women were met at the doorway by a pair of serious-looking security guards. Maggie remembered both of the men; they'd been guarding the gate to her property on Saturday. They escorted the actress and her assistant to a long black limo that waited on the street, right in front of the shop.

Maggie closed the door and locked it. The rest of the group watched from the window as the limo drove away.

“That was so weird.” Phoebe shivered. “It really freaked me out.”

“I know what you mean,” Maggie agreed. “I hope they took the roses. I don't want to carry them out to the trash and be worried they might explode or something.”

“Explode? Why would Jennifer's adoring fan want to blow her to smithereens?” Lucy asked.

“Unrequited love?” Dana asked mildly.

Maggie laughed. “Haven't we all been on the unrequited side at one time or another?”

“This is different. This isn't ‘She's just not into you' stuff,” Suzanne pointed out. “This is nutcase, super fantasy land, if-I-can't-have-you-nobody-can caliber. I'd be worried stiff if I were Jennifer Todd.”

“I hope it's not that serious. But they should report this to the local police, even if they do it quietly. You don't know what people are capable of these days,” Dana said with concern. “Not that I think that flower arrangement will explode, either.”

“Of course not. That's silly.” Suzanne glanced out the window again. “But does anyone else smell . . . smoke?”

Maggie and her friends stared at each other, frozen with fear as Suzanne craned her neck to get a better view out the window.

“You're kidding . . . right?” Lucy asked quietly.

Suzanne turned slowly, her serious expression cracking into a grin. “Sorry, gang. Just goofing on you.”

“Suzanne! You scared us half to death,” Lucy scolded her.

“That wasn't funny.” Phoebe still looked worried.

“No . . . it wasn't. I'm sorry,” she added more sincerely. “I get it from the kids. I can't resist teasing you guys. You're all so gullible.” She shook her head with remorse, though Maggie detected a small smile.

“Are the flowers still out there? Can you at least tell us that?” Maggie asked.

“No, they're gone. Victor must have taken them away.”

“Really? I didn't see them carrying anything. Maybe I didn't notice,” Lucy said.

“Maybe the stalker saw his gift had been rejected and came back for it.” Phoebe looked around at her friends, her theory clearly making her nervous all over again.

“Oh dear. I hope not.” Maggie felt goose flesh rise on her arms. “I wish Jennifer had let me call the police.”

“You can still call. It is your shop and you have a right to be concerned about your property,” Suzanne reminded her.

“Not to mention poor Phoebe, alone upstairs tonight,” Lucy added. “Are you going to be all right?”

Phoebe did look a little nervous, Maggie thought. She shrugged her thin shoulders. “Oh . . . I'll be fine. All the doors are locked and there's the alarm. And I have Van Gogh,” she added, mentioning her cat.

“Right, that very scary watch cat. He'll protect you.” Dana smiled. Van Gogh ran under the nearest piece of furniture at the sight of a stranger. Though he clearly adored Phoebe.

“Why don't you come home with me?” Maggie suggested. “I'll be worried about you. I won't sleep a wink.”

“Me, either,” Suzanne and Lucy said in unison.

“It's unanimous,” Dana added.

Phoebe sighed. “All right. If it makes you all feel better. I'll just grab some stuff . . . and my cat,” she mumbled.

“I heard that. It's all right,” Maggie added with a sigh. The truth was, even though Maggie had initially balked about having the cat in the shop, she was getting used to him. Even as a houseguest.

A few moments later, Maggie had checked all the doors and windows, set the alarm, and followed her friends out to the porch. She locked the door and double-checked the knob.

A few yellow petals remained in the spot where the big basket of roses had stood, the only evidence that it had been there at all.

Maggie glanced at them a moment and checked the door again.

“Come along now. Time to go.” Lucy tugged her arm. “No one is going to bother the shop. Jennifer Todd is gone. That's the only person this weird delivery guy is interested in.”

“He was obviously following her. Maybe he followed her back to the inn,” Suzanne said logically.

“Yes . . . that's probably true.” Maggie accompanied her friends down the path to the street. “But thank you for waiting until I closed up.”

“Don't be silly. Safety in numbers,” Lucy said quickly.

“Especially true for sheep, come to think of it,” Maggie quipped. “Though you're hardly a timid bunch.”

“Are you kidding? We're pretty darn
baaah-aad
ass, if you ask me,” Suzanne insisted.

Phoebe rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Can we go now?”

“After that, we really ought to,” Maggie agreed. It was definitely time to head home, but good to end the strange evening with a laugh.

“C
ome on, Lucy . . . just say yes. You know you
want
to.”

Suzanne's tone was tempting. So was her invitation. Lucy still wavered.

“I do . . . but I have a project due Friday. I don't think I should skip work tomorrow.”

“Oh, come on. It won't take the whole day. Just an hour or two. You can catch up at night. Just drink some coffee, like you always do.”

That was true. She should have been back at her desk already, but got sidetracked after dinner, watching a baseball game with Matt. The spring season had just started and they were both suffering from Red Sox withdrawal.

With her cell phone balanced between her ear and her shoulder, Lucy carried a bowl of popcorn from the kitchen to the sofa. Tink and Wally swirled around her legs, two panting, furry crocodiles, lured by the scent of their favorite snack. The dogs watched vigilantly for a stray kernel to drop in their direction.

She handed the bowl down to Matt, who responded with a pleased smile. Then jumped, nearly spilling the entire pile. “You moron! Throw to
first
! How hard is that?”

“Hey . . . did I get you guys at a bad time?” Suzanne sounded concerned.

“Matt's just yelling at the TV. Red Sox are playing the Yankees. You know how that is.” Lucy was amused. She and Matt rarely argued. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time.

“Wait a second, if you have time to watch grown men run around a field chasing a little ball, I don't understand why you can't find the time to support a friend in a courageous adventure. And maybe even get to see Heath O'Hara running on the beach . . . with his shirt off,” she added for good measure.

Lucy had returned to the kitchen to make her coffee.

She had to laugh. “I thought we were going to meet all the movie stars Thursday night.”

“Jennifer never said Heath was in that scene. She only mentioned Trina. He might not even be there Thursday.” Suzanne had obviously given the question careful consideration.

“He might not be there tomorrow, either.” Lucy couldn't resist playing devil's advocate.

“I'm willing to take my chances. I thought you'd be excited about the idea. I'm not going to force you.” Suzanne suddenly sounded distracted, as if she didn't care one way or the other.

Another technique her pal had learned in some sales seminar, Lucy suspected. But she allowed herself to fall for it anyway.

“Okay, you got me. What time did you say again?”

“I'll pick you up at ten. You'll have plenty of time to work in the afternoon. Since you don't have a herd of children invading the house, asking for snacks, help with homework, and needing to be driven to the ends of the Earth and back,” she added dryly.