50% Off Murder (Good Buy Girls) (12 page)

“She’s great like that,” Maggie agreed. “My TBR—to be read—pile is perilously high because she keeps giving me books that I—”

“Just have to read,” Sandy said with her, and they both smiled.

“Do you think they’ll keep her in jail long?” Sandy asked.

“I don’t know,” Maggie said. “I don’t know much about the process, which is why I brought Max in to help.”

“He’s brilliant. He’ll help figure it out,” Sandy said. “Which reminds me, when all of this is over, I should see what he knows about microbiology.”

Maggie smiled and took a restorative sip of her coffee.

“So, what are you going to do now?” Sandy asked.

Maggie sighed. “There’s only one thing I can do, find the real killer.”

Maggie spent the morning watching Josh so that Sandy could do some studying. Jake, Sandy’s husband, would be calling from Afghanistan, and Maggie knew that Sandy was having a hard time concentrating with Josh flitting around and her own excitement over hearing from her man.

She and Josh went out to the garden to pick several bowls of blackberries before the birds got them all, and then they played trains on the porch so that she could keep her promise to Claire and spend time with Mr. Tumnus, too.

Sitting on the floor and running her favorite trains, Donald and Douglas, across the wooden tracks, she mulled over the events of the day before while Josh ordered her trains about, doing a fair imitation of Sir Topham Hatt, the boss of all trains.

“Josh, your dad is on the computer! Come see him!” Sandy poked her head around the doorway.

“Daddy!” Josh clutched his train and toddled with his mother into the small bedroom, converted into an office, in the back of the house.

Maggie followed behind them—she always liked to see for herself that Jake was okay, and then give the couple their alone time.

The computer was on, and there beaming out of the screen was Jake. A handsome man, his hair was cut military short, and he was wearing his fatigues, which made him seem even more manly. It had to be that “man in a uniform” thing, Maggie thought. She had known Jake since he was in high school, and sometimes she still saw the knock-kneed, sweaty-palmed boy who had arrived on her sister’s doorstep with a wilting lily corsage to give to Sandy on their prom night.

Despite his grown-up good looks, Maggie couldn’t help but notice that he looked tired—not “I haven’t slept lately” tired, but more of a bone-weary tired, like if he ever got the chance to rest, he would sleep for a month.

He and Sandy talked using Skype, a free computer program that allowed them to see each other while they spoke, which was at least once a week. Sandy hefted Josh onto her lap, and he waved at his dad, who beamed even brighter at the sight of his big baby boy.

“How ya doin’, Josh-by-gosh?” Jake asked.

“Daddy, make the train whistle,” Josh demanded.

“Okay,” Jake agreed with a smile. Then he did a spot-on impression of a train whistle. Josh clapped in delight.

“Daddy, I smashed Auntie Maggie’s train!” Josh said. Then he made a loud crashing sound.

Jake laughed delightedly.

Maggie popped her head into the group and said, “Hi, Jake!”

“Hi, Aunt Maggie,” he said. “These two rascals aren’t giving you too much trouble, are they?”

“Define
trouble
,” Maggie said with a grin.

“Hey!” Sandy said. “I resemble that remark.”

“Daddy home soon?” Josh asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be home soon, son,” Jake said.

He looked a little sad, but then Josh said, “We play trains when you come home, Daddy.”

“Yes, we will.”

“Make the whistle, Daddy,” Josh ordered, and Jake smiled and did another perfect imitation of a train whistle.

Josh pumped his fist and then leaned forward and kissed the computer monitor.

“Love you, Daddy,” he said. Then he wiggled off of his mother’s lap and headed back to his train table.

Maggie leaned forward and blew a kiss to Jake. “Take care of yourself, Jake.”

“You, too, Maggie,” he said, and he winked.

Maggie knew that Sandy and Jake had only minutes to talk, so she went to keep Josh occupied so they could spend their precious time alone.

“How are you, baby?” Sandy asked.

Maggie turned away, but she heard the sadness in Jake’s voice when he answered, “It’s been a rough week, hon. Two of my squad were killed by IEDs.”

The devastation in his voice made Maggie want to turn around and offer some comfort, but she heard Sandy say, “Oh, Jake, I’m so sorry.”

Quietly, Maggie shut the door behind her. She closed her
eyes, her thoughts with the families who had lost their men. But another part of her was so desperately grateful that it wasn’t Jake who had been killed, she felt guilty for even thinking it.

She found Josh back at the train table. She sat down with him and let him boss her trains around some more. Sandy joined them about fifteen minutes later. Her face was pale and her eyes watery. Maggie opened her arms, and Sandy sank onto the floor and leaned into her.

“He’s okay,” Maggie said, knowing it was a cold comfort at best. But Sandy nodded and pulled back.

“Be present. Live today,” she said. “I got to see him today.”

Maggie nodded in approval. Her own throat was too tight to speak.

“Mommy, look!” Josh launched his train down the steep part of the track, and Sandy watched him with amused eyes.

“Sandy, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard Jake talk about the two men in his squad.”

“He’ll be all right, but it was bad,” Sandy confirmed.

“I can’t even imagine what he’s going through,” Maggie said. “Jake’s tour will be done soon, though, yes?”

“Six more months,” Sandy said, and closed her eyes, as if trying to imagine it.

Maggie squeezed Sandy’s shoulder. Josh had five of his trains lined up now, and he was sending them into the roundhouse one by one. Sandy sat down to play with him, and Maggie stepped away, letting them have some mother-and-son time.

She couldn’t help but think of the cake knife sticking out of John Templeton’s chest. Not exactly an IED, but then
again, who used a cake knife—an everyday, ordinary object—to kill?

“How long is Claire going to be held?” Maggie asked Max through the window of the Frosty Freeze. She and Ginger had decided to have ice cream while they pestered Max about Claire’s case.

“At her arraignment this morning, the judge denied bail,” Max said.

“But she has ties to the community,” Ginger protested.

“And she’s a good person,” Maggie added.

Max blew out a breath. “Yes, but her fingerprints are on the knife, and she has a history with the victim. I couldn’t get them to budge.”

He looked defeated as he passed Maggie her hot fudge brownie sundae through the window and handed her a spoon.

“I’m sure you did your best, Max,” Maggie said. “How did Claire take it?”

An odd look crossed his face, and Max said, “She didn’t seem surprised.”

“What happens next?” Maggie asked.

“Preliminary hearing,” he said. “The prosecution will do their best to prove that they have enough evidence to hold Claire for a trial, and I will do my best to prove that they don’t.”

He looked stressed, and Maggie wondered if it was time to call in an attorney with some years behind him. She didn’t want Max to carry this burden alone.

As if reading her thoughts, he said, “I’ve been in contact with my mentor. He’s agreed to oversee Claire’s case.”

Maggie smiled at him. She should never have doubted the boy genius.

“Can we see her?” Ginger asked. She was already working on her hot caramel sundae with extra pralines.

“That’s probably going to be up to Sheriff Collins,” Max said. “Given that Maggie is not on his list of friendlies, I don’t see him letting her in to see Claire, but you might stand a chance.”

“Well, that’s rude,” Maggie said.

“Maybe if you played nice for once, he’d let you talk to her,” Max said. “I don’t know what is between you two, but you’re really not helping my client with your hostile attitude.”

“There’s nothing between me and Sam Collins!” Maggie protested. “I simply loathe the man.”

“You’re not normally such a grudge-holder,” Ginger said. She waved her spoon at Maggie. “Was it really so awful that he teased you as a kid? Shouldn’t you let it go? For Claire?”

Maggie wanted to protest. She wanted to come clean and tell Ginger everything, but then how would she explain that she’d never told her before? Ginger was her bff, and what had happened between her and Sam Collins was definitely the stuff of midnight chats over cheesecake and wine with your best friend forever.

“I can try,” she said. “But I just find him so infuriating.”

“The feeling appears to be mutual,” Max said. “Now, if you two will excuse me?” He nodded his head, and Maggie turned around to see that a small line had formed behind
them. She and Ginger shuffled to the side and then strolled over to the picnic table nearby to sit and eat their ice cream.

“So, can you be on your best behavior so we can go and talk to Claire?” Ginger asked.

“I can try,” Maggie said. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll be out ticketing someone for a broken headlight, and I won’t have to see him.”

“That’s the spirit,” Ginger said with a shake of her head.

“Well, if it isn’t the little shoe thief,” a voice said from behind Maggie.

Since that particular voice always managed to make the hair on the back of Maggie’s neck stand up, and not in a good way, she knew it was Summer Phillips before she even turned around.

“Hello, Summer,” she said. “I hate to argue, but if anyone is a shoe thief, it’s you.”

She let her eyes run up and down Summer’s latest eye-popping ensemble, from the platform sandals to the Daisy Duke shorts and halter top that barely kept her girls restrained. Ruby red lipstick, fake eyelashes and a head of platinum hair that had been teased to add another three inches to her overall height capped off her “look at me” outfit. Maggie found it hard to pull her gaze away, as if from a train wreck.

“Why, hello, Ginger.” Summer ignored Maggie and turned her attention across the table. “I saw your son the other day, the oldest one. My, he has turned out just as handsome as his daddy.”

Maggie saw Ginger’s nostrils flare. The mother lion in her was obviously gearing up to take down the long-legged, underdressed gazelle in front of her.

Summer, not being entirely stupid, must have sensed that she was in mortal peril, as the next words out of her confirmed.

“But obviously, he is too…immature for me,” she said.

“If by that you mean you’re
way
too old for him, then you’d be right,” Maggie said. She scooped some of her sundae into her mouth with a smile.

Summer looked like she wanted to use her red talons to claw the smile right off Maggie’s face. Thankfully, they were in public, and Ginger was a witness.

With a toss of her big blonde head, Summer seemed to get a grip on her rage, and she gave Maggie a smug glance. “What’s the matter, Maggie? Are you jealous?”

Summer had caught her on an inhale, and a chunk of brownie stuck in her throat. She coughed and then gagged. Ginger looked ready to jump up and pound her on the back, but Maggie held up her hand to indicate that she was okay.

“Jealous of what?” she managed to ask in her most scathing tone.

“Why, me and Sam Collins, of course,” Summer said. “Everyone knows you’ve had the hots for him since high school.”

Later, she couldn’t say that what happened next had ever been a fully formed thought. Premeditated, so to speak. She supposed it was really just an instinctive reaction, like ducking when a ball is lobbed at your head. Either way, Maggie’s hot fudge brownie sundae landed splat on Summer Phillips’s big blonde head.

Summer stared at Maggie with a look of horror that would have been comical had she not immediately begun to hunt for a weapon. She lunged toward Ginger, who stepped back with her sundae just in time.

“My hair!” Summer cried. “You’ve ruined my hair! I’m calling the sheriff! I’m going to have you arrested for assault!”

A chuckle sounded from the Frosty Freeze, and when Summer whirled in that direction, Max quickly yanked his head in and slammed the window shut as if afraid she would launch herself into his ice cream palace.