Treacherous Tart (30 page)

Maggie stepped back. “I know you're not trying to kiss me with all that stuff on you, right?” She sneezed just thinking about it. “I think I'll walk. It's not that far.” She waved to him, and darted toward the sub shop.

“Fine,” he yelled after her. “Just don't eat my sandwich.”

Betty pumped her for information about the fire and Donald's death while Bobby made her sandwiches. Maggie didn't want to give away any information until the police had verified it. Betty wasn't happy about being left out of the loop, but she understood.

The pie shop was still almost empty when Maggie got back. One customer was eating what looked like a whole potpie. Maggie went into the kitchen with their sandwiches and asked Aunt Clara what was going on.

“I don't know. He wanted a whole pie. I gave it to him. He said he liked it. Let's eat!”

Maggie took out their sandwiches and got them each a glass of sweet tea before they sat down to eat. “I took your coat away to have it dry-cleaned while I was out.”

“Oh?”

“You know—the lipstick?”

“Of course.” Her aunt's brow furrowed. “What am I going to wear home tonight? Is it one of those new twenty-minute dry cleaners?”

“No. You can wear my jacket home. I'll be fine. I didn't want the lipstick to set.”

A few new customers came in. They'd already heard about the hot potpies and were looking for something different for lunch. Maggie was happy to
oblige them. Aunt Clara took her sandwich and went into the kitchen.

By twelve thirty, they were swamped. Aunt Clara couldn't keep up with making enough potpies to keep the crowd happy. Maggie served dozens of their regular customers, and many more new ones who'd heard about their new lunch special.

“The potpies are a hit!” Maggie proclaimed as she went back to help put more pies into the oven. “I think this is it!”

“Good.” Aunt Clara took a deep breath. “I hope we can stand being so busy all the time.”

Ryan finally got back after the rush had died down. He'd showered and changed clothes. “Dad is doing fine. He still has to take it easy the next few days. I think he's out of the woods anyway.”

Maggie told him about giving Aunt Clara's coat to the police. “I don't know what I'm going to say to her if the police think Lenora is guilty of killing Donald.”

“You'll think of something. She'll understand that her friend can't be out on the street killing people. She's not stupid.” Ryan sipped his coffee and asked for a slice of cherry pie for dessert.

“I hope so.”

“I'll swing by this evening and pick you two up so you don't have to worry about the coat problem.” He sighed. “I'm giving up the battle, Maggie. I have a doctor's appointment to get glasses this afternoon.
Or maybe contacts. How do you think I'll look in glasses?”

He made circles with his fingers and put them around his blue eyes.

Maggie laughed. “I think you'll look like a writer—which you are. You may even look more intelligent.”

He grinned. “In that case, I'll definitely get glasses. I'm receiving an award from the Business Owners' Association too, so I guess I'm doing okay.”

She kissed him. “Well, at the very least, you need to see what you're doing.”

As a few new customers came in, Maggie shot to her feet.

Ryan stood too and stopped her as he put his arms around her. “Thanks for being there with the fire—and everything else. I love you, Maggie.”

“I love you too.” She closed her eyes and inhaled his distinctive scent of ink, aftershave, and fresh air. “Thanks for being there for me too. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.”

“Me either.”

She watched him leave for another city meeting, thinking how lucky she was to have him and Aunt Clara, and then she went to greet her customers.

The afternoon was very busy. Kids of all ages were out of school and stopped in for hot chocolate. Some had pie. Some wanted cookies. Maggie kept
her smile in place for even the most annoying of the customers.

David came in again for pie and coffee. Maggie thanked him for his help with Aunt Clara, and made an effort to be especially kind to him. She hoped, even though they'd gotten off to an awkward start, that things would smooth out between them now that he was going to stay.

They talked again about things they did when they were children and about teachers they hadn't liked, wondering if they were still teaching.

“Remember Mrs. Fossick, the science teacher?” David whistled. “I hated that woman. Nothing I did was right for her.”

“I know what you mean.”

“She said I was ‘troubled.' My parents grounded me for a month.”

Maggie laughed. “I remember. I had to sneak comic books and snacks into your house.”

“And I came down after my parents went to bed and got them.” He smiled at her. “Those were good times. It was fun being a kid with you.”

“I know. We do have some great memories. Have you found a job yet in Durham?”

“I think so. I'm definitely staying. After seeing what a hard time my parents are having, I can't leave them again. If nothing else, maybe you could hire me to make pies.”

“I could do that. If these potpies keep selling,
I'm gonna need someone.” She knew they were both joking around.

“Well, don't fill that position until I go through this next interview.” He sighed. “Why does everyone require you to come back for so many follow-up interviews nowadays? My first job, they hired me on the spot.”

“I know what you mean. Good luck, David.”

“Thanks.” He paid his bill, and left her a hefty tip in the jar before he went to his interview.

 • • •

R
yan picked up
Maggie and Aunt Clara promptly at 6:00 p.m. They went to his house to have dinner with Garrett, who was happy to see them.

The mood was a little somber since the police had arrested a homeless man for starting the fire at the
Durham Weekly
. Ryan had gone to see him at the jail. He'd told Maggie that he probably wouldn't press charges against the old man.

“He was so pitiful,” Ryan explained. “He was just trying to stay warm. It was an accident.”

Maggie felt bad about it too. So did Aunt Clara and Garrett, but there was nothing anyone could do about the charges being leveled at the man. The fire could have burned more than just the newspaper office, and might have killed someone.

It made for an odd, melancholy mood as Maggie
helped Ryan take his family's old Christmas decorations out of the basement.

“I can barely do this after everything that's happened,” Ryan said.

“It won't make anything better to sit around and mope about it.” Maggie encouraged him with a kiss and a smile. “You help us with our decorations, and we'll help you. Okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I guess that's all we can do, right?”

Garrett moved into the foyer to sit and watch. Ryan set up the tree and put a new set of LED lights on the branches.

Aunt Clara put on garland and ribbon while Maggie and Ryan hung the ornaments. One of the ornaments was a baby in a basket being carried by a stork. It was Ryan's first Christmas ornament. It was a little tarnished. Some of the blue paint was gone. Still, it was a special moment. Maggie thought he looked as though he might cry.

There was also a bride-and-groom ornament that Aunt Clara coaxed Garrett into hanging on the tree.

“My wife had that made from the top on our wedding cake.” He chuckled, thinking about it. “It was a long time ago.”

There were almost too many memories stored in those boxes. Garrett had to ask to be excused, saying
he had a headache. Aunt Clara kissed him on the cheek. Ryan briskly hugged him.

It wasn't long after that that Maggie and Aunt Clara called it a night. Ryan took them home and walked them to the door. He kissed Maggie good night under the porch light.

“That was odd,” she said. “You never kiss me goodbye outside the door. You always come in to say good night to me.”

Ryan smirked, and glanced at the Walker house next door. “That was for your new neighbor.”

Maggie started to protest, and Ryan put his lips on hers, holding her tightly. His hands supported her back as he pressed her closer. Maggie's heart fluttered, and she felt warm all over, despite the cold.

“I–I think he gets the point,” she said breathlessly when he released her.

“Then my job here is done!” He skipped down the stairs, whistling a Christmas tune.

Maggie went inside, slamming the door hard behind her, but a smile lingered on her lips.
Men!

Aunt Clara and Maggie took down their Christmas decorations from the attic. Maggie remembered each and every glittering glass globe and shining star. There were homemade ribbons and ornaments she'd made in school too.

“Look!” Aunt Clara held up a little ornament made to look like a storefront that said “Pie Shop.”
“Your uncle got that for us the first Christmas we opened Pie in the Sky. We had such dreams and hopes. It was a wonderful time in our lives. Not as wonderful as that first Christmas with you, but exciting and special.”

There were several ornaments shaped like slices of pie, and whole pies too.

“What do you think happened to Lenora that made her snap?” Maggie asked her. “I know she lost her husband, but so did you. She has a lot of money and a nice house. She has Alice. Why is she so unhappy?”

“Even when we were children, it was hard to satisfy Lenora. There was never enough of anything for her—money, boys, clothes. Nothing was ever as she wanted it to be. I think it made her crazy. And she's scared of dying, Maggie. Scared of being alone. We all are, I suppose. She doesn't think she can depend on anything, or anyone, to be there for her. It's a sad state of affairs.”

Maggie hugged her, a little sorry that she'd sent the lipstick and the coat to Frank. Maybe if Aunt Clara was satisfied with how things had turned out, she should be too. She just didn't want her aunt to be hurt anymore by Donald and Lenora.

They sat with Fanny and the six kittens by the fireplace, drinking hot cocoa. Aunt Clara named them all after pie fillings: Coconut, Chocolate, Raisin, Pecan, Cherry, and Key Lime.

“Isn't Fanny going to feel a little odd since she has a nonedible name?” Maggie asked with a laugh.

“I think she'll be fine with it,” her aunt said. “Tomorrow, we'll get a Christmas tree from that nice man on the corner. And by next week, our pot-pies will be famous! I can't wait to see the look on Lenora's face!”

Maggie hoped that “look” wasn't going to be as bad as she feared.

P
ie in the
Sky was closed for the fund-raiser. It was such a big event for the library that Clara had justified it as a day off for the shop.

Maggie found it hard to believe that there could be so many people at a fund-raiser that it would be worthwhile closing the shop. She'd offered to stay at the shop and keep it open while her aunt went to the event. That way they wouldn't be letting down their regular customers, and they could make income from both places.

Aunt Clara wouldn't hear of it. “It gets very
hectic there. I had to hire someone to cashier for me the last two years. Now I have you. We make money at the event, you know.”

“But forty percent of it goes to the library,” Maggie argued, though she knew it was a lost cause.

“A
worthy
cause. I hope you can keep up with the money while I dish out the pie.”

Now that the event was at hand, Maggie was glad she'd finally agreed to accompany her aunt. Maybe it would be busy enough to warrant both of them being there—maybe it wouldn't. She certainly didn't want Aunt Clara and Lenora there together without her and Alice to intervene if necessary.

The kidnapping, and the fact that Lenora may have killed Donald, put a whole new spin on things. Maggie realized she might have to be there to protect her aunt. She hoped it wasn't from a gun.

Maggie wanted to call Frank. She wanted to spill the whole story to him and hope that he'd arrest Lenora without any other proof. That would mean Aunt Clara being willing to tell him what had really happened. What were the chances?

Even for her own safety, her aunt wasn't willing to turn Lenora in. Maggie didn't understand her reasoning—she'd never had a friend she was willing to sacrifice this much for.

They got up early the next morning and headed out the door as quickly as possible to warm the potpies at Pie in the Sky before they went to the library.

Once the potpies were ready, they slipped them into boxes. Mr. Gino had let Maggie borrow some insulated bags from him—no charge—that would keep them warm for a few hours. She hadn't wanted to buy them. Who knew when, or if, they'd need them again?

“It's going to be chaotic when we get to the high school gym,” Aunt Clara explained like a general marshaling her army for a battle as Maggie drove Garrett's car.