A Deal to Die For (11 page)

Maggie took that to mean Alice was not going to
be sharing her reasons for not being at the jail. She knew she had to respect Alice’s
wishes, but it certainly made her more concerned than ever about what was going on
with the Franklins.

Alice led Maggie back to the counter and they finished their tea, talking about Maggie’s
shop and her plans to combat Summer Phillips and her rival secondhand shop across
the green.

The conversation suffered a few awkward starts and stops, but by the time Maggie rose
to leave she felt as if they had at least reestablished their long-standing friendship.

Alice walked her to the door. When she glanced back through the window of her car,
Maggie thought Alice looked smaller as she pushed the door closed, as if the events
of the past few days had left her diminished somehow.

Maggie sent Cheryl a text telling her that Alice was a no go. She wouldn’t be showing
up at the jail anytime soon. Cheryl texted back that Doc had been released, and she
was about to drive him and Max over to the Daily Grind to discuss the situation. Maggie
texted that she would meet them there.

She wondered if she should go back to the house and ask Alice if she wanted to join
them. Then she thought about how awkward that conversation might be, and she decided
no.

She put her phone away and started her car, leaving Alice in peace.

The Daily Grind was doing a brisk business, as the flea market was still going on,
there was plenty to gossip about and it was midday Sunday, which was always a good
time for a cup of coffee.

Maggie was the first to arrive, and she staked out a round table in the corner by
the window. Pete Daniels was working
the counter, and when he saw Maggie he stopped what he was doing and waved. Maggie
waved back in what she hoped appeared to be a casual greeting.

Ginger and Sam’s silly talk about Pete wanting to ask her out made her look at him
more closely. She guessed him to be about her age. He was fit, with broad shoulders
and a trim middle, most likely from playing on the local softball team.

To her surprise, he came out from behind the counter carrying a large mug of steaming
coffee and a plate full of muffin tops. He placed both on the table in front of her.

His eyes were a warm dark brown just like his coffee, and when he smiled it lit up
his face and she found herself smiling in return.

“Is the usual okay?” he asked.

“Yes, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

“The muffin tops are pumpkin, and they’re on the house,” he said. “I over-ordered
from the bakery, and I need to move them out so they don’t go to waste.”

“Well, I’m pleased to be on the receiving end of your miscalculation,” she said.

Pete smiled at her and then sobered.

“How are you, Maggie?” he asked. He looked concerned, and Maggie knew he had undoubtedly
heard the gossip that she had been there when Vera Madison’s body had been found.

“I’ve been better,” she said.

“May I?” he asked as he gestured to the chair opposite her.

“Please,” she nodded.

He pulled out the chair and sat down.

“Hey, Pete!” Ryan O’Dell shouted from the door. “Don’t forget the volleyball game
tonight.”

“I’ll be there,” Pete said and turned back to Maggie. He gave her a tentative glance
as if unsure of what to say.

“That had to be awful, finding Vera like that,” he said. His gaze was so kind and
understanding that Maggie felt her throat get tight.

“It was,” she said. “Vera was such a life force. It’s hard to imagine that she’s really
gone.”

“She came in here a handful of times,” Pete said. His smile was rueful. “She certainly
made a strong impression.”

Maggie smiled. She liked the way he put it. She thought it spoke well of him that
he didn’t call Vera
difficult
, which is what most people would have said.

“Do they know what caused her death yet?” he asked.

“Not that I know of,” Maggie said. She didn’t mention Sam’s comment about the syringe
being suspicious. She was still hoping that proved to be untrue.

Ruth Davis stopped by their table with two coffees to go in her hands. “Pete, there’s
a potluck at the church tonight. We’d love to see you there.”

Ruth was a portly older woman with two daughters in their thirties who she’d been
trying to marry off for the past fifteen years. Maggie could tell by the glint in
her eye that she considered Pete quite eligible.

“Well, thank you for the invitation, ma’am,” he said. “I’m working all evening, but
otherwise I’d love to attend.”

“Well, try to get away,” Ruth insisted.

She noticed Maggie and frowned at her as if she was encroaching on Ruth’s territory.
“Shouldn’t you be working on your shop, Maggie?”

“Should I?” Maggie asked.

“Well, I don’t think loitering around a coffeehouse is any way to get your business
started, do you? Summer Phillips certainly isn’t letting any grass grow under her
feet.”

“That’s because her feet are too big,” Maggie said. “They block the sun.”

Ruth raised her brows at Maggie’s caustic tone, and then she sniffed and left the
shop without another word. Pete lowered his head and looked away, and Maggie sighed.

“Ugh, that was mean. I’m sorry.” She cringed. “I’m not myself.”

Pete made a noise—it sounded like a snort—and raised his head. Maggie realized he
was trying not to laugh.

“No, that was perfect. When it comes to Summer Phillips, I try to maintain healthy
boundaries.” He lowered his voice and added, “She scares me.”

“You are very wise,” Maggie said. “Most men don’t see it.”

“Well, she makes it hard to see past her other…uh…attributes, but when my morning
staff told me that she had come in and tried to get them to tell her my estimated
net worth, well, I got her measure pretty quickly.”

“She did not!” Maggie said.

“’Fraid so,” he said. “I think I was a bit of a disappointment to her. I’ve pretty
much dumped everything I had into this place. It’s boom or bust time for me.”

“Well, you appear to be booming,” Maggie said.

“Thanks,” he said, looking pleased. “I think the only way small companies can compete
with the big boys is customer service. I try to treat every customer like a friend
who is coming into my home. It’s more than a cup of coffee; it’s a visit with a friend.”

“I have a feeling I can learn a lot from you,” Maggie said.

“Well, anytime you want—” Pete began but was cut off by Max.

“Maggie, we need to talk,” Max said. “Oh, hey, sorry to interrupt, Pete.”

“No, no problem,” Pete said. He glanced at Max and then at Dr. Franklin and Cheryl
who were standing behind him. He rose from his seat and said to Maggie, “Looks like
you have company.”

“Thanks for sitting with me,” she said.

“Anytime,” Pete said. He held her gaze for a second, and for the first time Maggie
felt a definite zip of interest coming from him.
Oh dear.

Cheryl went with Pete to order coffee for the three of them. Maggie pushed the plate
of muffin tops in front of Doc, who looked like he might fall down from sheer exhaustion.
A flare of anger at Sam for keeping him so long for questioning roared through her.

“Okay, what’s happening?” she asked Max, keeping her voice low so neighboring tables
couldn’t hear what was being said.

“Sam seems to think foul play was involved with Vera Madison’s demise,” Max said,
his voice low as well.

Maggie glanced at Doc. He looked crestfallen. She wondered if it was because he had
obviously cared about Vera and didn’t like the fact that she’d been harmed, or if
it was because he was aware that since he’d been found holding the syringe, he was
suspect number one.

“What do you think, Doc?” she asked.

He opened his mouth to speak but then shook his head.
His hair was standing up in tufts as if it, too, were dismayed by life’s horrible
turn of events.

He blew out a breath and said, “I don’t know what to think.”

Cheryl rejoined the group carrying three steaming mugs of coffee. She put one down
in front of each of them.

“More coffee?” Maggie asked her.

“Mine’s decaf,” Cheryl said. “I don’t want to get the shakes.”

“I’ve got the shakes, but I don’t think it’s too much caffeine,” Max said. They all
looked at him, and he said, “I’m worried. Sam’s not telling us everything.”

“What do you think he’s keeping from you?” Maggie asked. She sipped her hot coffee,
hoping it would chase away the chill that was spreading through her from inside out.

“He wants to know what was in that syringe,” Doc said. “I felt like he was going to
keep me there until I told him, but I don’t know what was in it.”

“You told him that, right?” Maggie asked.

“In a hundred different ways,” Max said. “The coroner must have found something that
makes Sam sure this is a murder.”

“Doc, have you wondered why Vera was there?” Maggie asked. “She wasn’t one of your
patients. Why did she choose to go to you that morning?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I can only assume, like Bianca said, that she didn’t want
to have Bianca drive her because they’d have had to leave the flea market, and all
of their things would have been unattended.”

They all sat silently for a moment. Max was the only one who ate the muffin tops,
one after another in quick succession. Maggie wasn’t sure where he stored all of the
food he ate, since he was so thin he barely cast a shadow as it was.

She hated to push, but she knew she had to if they were going to figure out exactly
what was going on.

“Doc, is there anything you want to tell us about your relationship with Vera Madison,
anything that might help us to help you?” she asked.

“No!” Doc said. He shook his head emphatically. “No, there’s nothing to say about
that. St. Stanley is a small town, so of course we knew each other. That’s all.”

Maggie exchanged a quick glance with Cheryl. Doc never acted like this, defensive
and angry. He was hiding something. And Maggie didn’t think he was going to give it
up—ever.

They spent the next half hour planning a strategy for if and when Sam called Doc back
in. Doc didn’t participate. Instead, he quietly sipped his coffee and kept his eyes
on the window that looked out onto the green. Maggie could tell he didn’t hear a word
they said.

Max outlined the situation. Other than the fact that Vera had been in Doc’s office
when she died, there was no reason to think Doc had anything to do with her death.
If she’d felt poorly, as her daughter, Bianca, said, it made perfect sense for her
to go to the nearest doctor. The only ripple in the pond was the syringe. Doc had
picked it up, so his fingerprints were on it, but that didn’t mean that someone else’s
weren’t as well. Maggie sincerely hoped that once it was checked it would yield a
suspect other than Doc.

“So, what do we do now?” Maggie asked.

“We wait,” Max said. “Once we have all the facts surrounding Vera’s death, we’ll stand
a better chance of being able to defend Doc.”

“Do you really think he’s going to need it?” Cheryl asked.
“I mean, when they figure out exactly how she died, won’t that lead to the killer?”

“Maybe,” Max said. He glanced at Doc, who was still staring out the window, not listening.
“I think that really depends upon what Doc isn’t telling us.”

Maggie and Ginger agreed to stop by Bianca Madison’s house on Monday late in the afternoon
to see how she was doing. It had been two days since Vera’s body had been found, and
Maggie still had a storeroom full of the Madisons’ belongings. She was fine with keeping
the boxes, but she felt as if she needed to talk to Bianca about it so that she understood
that Maggie was just holding the items for her.

Ginger was making one of her famous pound cakes for Bianca, a pumpkin flavored one
given the season, so Maggie had agreed to pick her up once it was baked and cooled.

Maggie spent the morning in her shop, cleaning and arranging the layout of the store,
so she was a tad dusty and dirty when she pulled up in Ginger’s driveway.

Two of Ginger’s sons were raking the leaves in the front yard; they both paused and
waved, and Maggie waved back. Another one was up on a ladder, cleaning the gutter.
He dropped a fistful of soggy leaves, letting them fall to the ground, and waved at
Maggie as well.

A shout came from the side of the house. “Caleb, where’s your brother?”

“I don’t know,” Caleb yelled back from his perch on the ladder.

“I do,” Aaron, the one raking leaves closest to Maggie, said. “He’s on the phone with
his girlfriend.” Then he puckered his lips and made smooching noises, which made Maggie
laugh.

“I told him to bag the leaves,” Roger said as he came around the house. He was wearing
a faded pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. He looked irritated, but when he saw Maggie
he broke into a warm smile. “Hey, there’s my girl. How are you, Maggie?”

“I’m good,” she said. She stepped close and gave him a solid hug. “You’ve got the
troops out working, I see?”