Marked Down for Murder (Good Buy Girls) (12 page)

“This is quite possibly the stupidest idea you’ve ever
had,” Ginger said.

“Don’t be such a doubter,” Maggie said. “Tyler needs to know how Summer feels about him before Blair poisons Summer any further. And if he visits her in the jail, she’ll see that he cares, too.”

“And you think that you can get him to go to the jail with you because—?” Ginger asked.

“I need his truck,” Maggie said. “I put in a bid on two of those vintage steel desks, you know, the sort built to survive a nuclear attack, that they auctioned last month and I just got the notice that I won. Tyler picks up stuff for me all the time, so this is perfect.”

“How is it that he is going to see Summer when she’s in lockup?”

“It could be that she’s getting released about the same time that we’re picking up the desks,” Maggie said. “I’m awaiting a text from Dot to coordinate our efforts.”

“So, Summer is off the hook?” Ginger asked. “Sam doesn’t think she killed her stepfather?”

“Well, since her mother was shot while she was locked up, it does seem unlikely that she had anything to do with Bruce’s murder, if the two are connected, which Sam seems to think they are,” Maggie said. “Plus, I think they had to either charge her or release her, and I don’t think Sam was ready to charge her. She just didn’t have a motive to kill Bruce.”

The bells on the door chimed and Tyler poked his head in.

“Maggie, you ready to roll out?” he called. “I promised Tim Kelly I’d help him move this morning.”

“Just let me grab my purse,” she said. She hurried into the back room and grabbed it from her desk. “Thanks for watching the shop for me, Ginger. I promised myself I wouldn’t close again in the middle of the day. I swear I won’t be long.”

Ginger just shook her head at her friend. “I still say you’re crazy. But good luck!”

Maggie grinned and let the door swing shut behind her.

Tyler’s well-loved pickup truck was parked curbside in front of the shop. He opened the passenger door for her and Maggie climbed up and in, noting that the pine-shaped air freshener hanging off the rearview mirror was working triple overtime. She was pretty sure she felt her nose hair curling in response to its overpowering fake piney scent.

“So, what are we hauling today, Maggie?” he asked.

“A couple of desks; heavy steel ones. Did you bring the ramp and handcart?”

“Of course,” he said. “Where are the desks?”

“Head toward the center of town,” she said. “I’ll talk you through the directions.”

Tyler shifted the truck into drive, using the lever on the right side of his steering wheel. He waited until the road was clear and then he made a wide U-turn to take them to the center of town. Maggie waited until they were right in front of the police station.

“You want to park, oh, right about here,” Maggie said.

“What?” Tyler squawked. “Give a guy a little notice, Maggie.”

“Sorry,” she said. Little did he know she was apologizing for a lot more than poor directions.

Tyler braked hard and eased the truck up against the curb. He maneuvered it in between two parked cars, parallel parking like a pro. Once he shut off the engine, Maggie hopped out of the truck and gestured for him to follow.

“Come on,” she said.

He didn’t move. He sat staring at the red brick building behind Maggie, plucking his lower lip between his thumb and index finger.

He leaned across the seat, looking at Maggie through the open passenger door. “I’ll wait here.”

“You can’t!” Maggie protested. “I need you to help me figure out logistics and stuff. Those desks are really big and awkward and I need your expertise.”

Tyler frowned at her. “Maggie Gerber, I’ve known you my whole life. You are the worst liar ever. I was there when you tried to tell our third-grade teacher, Mrs. Campbell, that the dog ate your homework.”

“It was a good excuse,” she protested.

“Oldest fib in the book and hampered by the fact that you did not have a dog, which Mrs. Campbell knew. Besides you have an inability to maintain eye contact when you lie,” he said. “It’s a dead giveaway.”

“I can, too,” Maggie argued. She stared at him as hard as she could, bugging her eyes out.

“So, why are we here?” he asked.

“To pick up those desks,” she said.

“Ha! You just looked away!”

“I did not!”

“Did, too,” he said. “Maggie Gerber, what are you up to?”

“Nothing,” she squeaked. This time she felt her eyes dart away. Darn it, why was she such a bad liar?

“Maggie, what would your mama say if she saw you right now?” he demanded. “Telling whoppers and not even being the least little bit ashamed.”

“I’ll tell you what my mama would say,” Maggie snapped, getting irritated by Tyler’s stubbornness. “She’d say, ‘Why isn’t that Tyler Fawkes getting out of his truck to help my baby girl like a proper gentleman should?’”

Tyler heaved a sigh. “I can’t go in there, Maggie.
She’s
in there!”

“
She
as in Summer?” Maggie asked. “Well, I have some news about that, but I’m not sure I’m going to tell you now, since you’re being such a big chicken.”

“News? What news?” he asked.

“Come on,” she said. “I’ll tell you on the way.”

“Is it good news?” Tyler asked cautiously.

“Very,” Maggie said. Then she slammed the door and began to walk toward the station, leaving Tyler to race after her. She checked her phone to make sure they were still on schedule. Yes, Dot’s text said they were processing the paperwork right now.

“So what is it?” he asked. “And no more lies.”

They were almost to the doors when Maggie turned to him and said, “I heard Summer tell her mother that she loves you.”

This time she maintained eye contact and put her hand over her heart to add a measure of veracity to her statement.

Tyler’s eyes popped wide open and he went slack-jawed, then he shoved her shoulder and said, “Shut up!”

He squealed like a teenage girl, and it was all Maggie could do not to laugh. She might have if his shove hadn’t smarted so much.

“Ow,” she said, rubbing her shoulder.

“Sorry.” He looked contrite, and then suspicious. “Are you messing with me, Maggie? ’Cause that would just be mean.”

“Am I known for being mean?” she asked.

“Well, according to Summer—” he began, but she interrupted.

“To you,” she clarified. “In all of the years that you’ve known me, have I ever been mean to you?”

“Well, no,” he said.

“Then trust me,” she said. “She went toe to toe with her mother for you. Now you need to show her some support or she’s going to get over you so fast you’ll hiccup and she’ll be gone.”

Tyler gasped and then yanked open the door and strode into the station. He stopped in the lobby, standing with his hands on his hips, looking like Superman surveying the scene before him.

Maggie, unprepared for him to stop short, plowed into his back. She bounced off, as Tyler didn’t move. Wondering what had him rooted to the spot, Maggie glanced around him to see Dot and Sam standing at the front desk with Summer.

Summer and Tyler stared at each other, but no one spoke. Maggie dug her knuckle into Tyler’s back to propel him forward—hopefully with his verbal skills fully functional.

“Oh, uh, hi, Summer,” he said as he moved away from Maggie.

Maggie sighed, as her hopes for his verbal functionality were obviously for naught.

“Hi, Tyler,” Summer said. She fiddled with the ends of her hair and glanced down at the paperwork in front of her as if embarrassed.

Maggie had to give Dot credit. She had obviously overseen Summer’s wardrobe choices for the day. Who knew the deputy had such skills in the makeover arts?

Summer was in a long, flowing floral dress with cute ankle boots and a denim jacket. Her blonde hair was done in careless waves down her back, and her makeup was much lighter than usual. She was the picture of a sweet damsel in distress.

Since Tyler had always seemed partial to the overly madeup, sexy Summer, Maggie wasn’t sure this was the best outfit choice, however much she liked it herself, but one look at Tyler’s dumbstruck face and she knew Dot had been spot-on.

She glanced at the deputy with her eyebrows raised, and Dot winked at her.

“Just one more signature,” Sam said. “And then you are free to go—just don’t leave town.”

“Do you need a ride?” Tyler asked. “I’ve got my truck right outside, and I’d be happy to give you a lift anywhere you need to go.”

And just like that, Maggie knew she had been thrown over. She would have been irritated if this hadn’t been a part of her plan all along.

“Oh, I have a ride,” Summer said. “But thank you. That’s very sweet of you, Tyler.”

Summer rested her hand on Tyler’s forearm and gazed up at him through her lashes. Maggie was surprised he didn’t drop to one knee and pop out a proposal right there, but she had a feeling his brain matter had turned to mush, making his motor skills all but useless.

She shot a glance at Dot, who shrugged. Obviously, she had no idea who Summer’s ride was either.

“You know I’d do anything for you, don’t you?” Tyler asked Summer. His voice was so tender, Maggie felt her own throat get tight as she watched the two of them.

Summer blinked at him and blushed a faint shade of pink. “You are so wonder—”

“That’s it!” a voice cried from the front door.

They all turned as one to see Blair Cassidy entering the station with her arm in a sling and a uniformed driver holding the door for her.

Sam came out from behind the desk as if he anticipated trouble. He moved to stand beside Maggie, and out of the corner of his mouth, he asked, “What are you up to, darlin’?”

“Me?” Maggie asked. She tried to bite her lip and look at him through her lashes like Summer had done to Tyler, but judging by the grin he seemed to be unsuccessfully fighting off, she did not have the same stupefying effect.

“What’s ‘it,’ Mama?” Summer asked. She glanced nervously at Tyler, as if afraid he was the answer to her question.

Maggie wondered if Summer would take on her mother again in defense of Tyler. If she did, Maggie suspected this could get downright ugly.

“The truck that jumped the curb when I got shot!” Blair cried. She turned to Sam. “Did you catch him? Is that why it’s parked out there?”

Sam blinked. “What are you talking about?”

Blair marched back to the glass doors. Her driver jumped out of the way before she stomped over him. She tapped one of the glass panes with a well-manicured red fingernail.

“That’s the truck, the one parked right there, that was driven by the person who tried to shoot me,” she said. “I’m sure of it.”

As one, they all crowded toward the doors to look.

Tyler was the first to speak. “But that’s my truck.”

Blair sucked in a breath and scurried around her driver as if using him as a human shield. The poor guy had no idea what was going on, and flinched when she gripped his upper arm with her good hand and dug her nails in. The man couldn’t escape if he tried.

“So, it was you!” Blair cried, glaring at Tyler. “You tried to kill me!”

“What? No!” Tyler protested. “I would never!”

“Don’t you lie to me!” Blair screeched. She lifted up her arm in the sling. “Look what you did to me.”

“Mama, if he says he didn’t do it, he didn’t do it,” Summer protested.

“You get away from him,” Blair said. She reached around her driver and grabbed Summer by the arm, yanking her close. “He tried to kill me. He could try to kill you, too.”

“No, I didn’t!” Tyler argued. He fisted his hands in his hair, looking as if he might rip it out by the roots.

“Blair, this is a serious accusation. Are you absolutely certain that is the truck?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” Blair said.

“I thought you said your back was to it and you didn’t see anything,” Maggie said. She didn’t doubt for one second that Blair would use this as an opportunity to break Tyler and Summer up.

“I was turned away, but I knew it was a truck because I saw its reflection in the window,” she said. “And I remember that streak of bright green paint on the front bumper. It was the last thing I saw before I was shot!”

“That is distinctive,” Dot said. “A streak of lime green like that will stick in the brain. How’d that happen, anyway?”

“I was doing some painting over at Mrs. Tibbets’s day care center,” Tyler said. “One of the little crumb crunchers decided to paint my truck green. Luckily, I caught him before he moved on from the bumper.”

“Oh, yeah, that could have cost you,” Sam agreed.

“A splash of paint doesn’t prove anything,” Summer said to her mother. “I’m sure a lot of trucks have splatters of paint on them.”

“In that shade of green?” Blair asked.

No one said anything, and Maggie had a feeling it was because no one wanted to agree with her, especially since what she said was true.

“And he hates me for keeping him away from Summer!” Blair cried, obviously feeling the lack of support in the room.

“But I didn’t shoot anyone. I wouldn’t,” Tyler protested. “I don’t even own a gun.”

Sam stepped forward and took Tyler’s elbow. “Let’s go have a chat, Tyler.”

“Maggie, do something,” Tyler pleaded as Sam started to lead him away. “I only came here to help you.”

“He did,” Maggie said. But suddenly, nothing was as it seemed, and her voice lost its conviction as she added, “We came by to pick up the desks.”

Sam gave her a sympathetic glance, as if he knew she was reeling.

“That’ll have to wait for another time. Deputy Wilson, take a statement from Blair, would you?” Sam asked. “I’m going to take Tyler in back.”

“You’re not arresting him, are you?” Maggie asked.

“Yes, of course he is,” Blair said. “He tried to kill me. He’s your suspect. He probably killed Bruce, too, to exact his revenge upon me. Oh, my poor, darling Bruce.”

Blair began to sob and wail. Summer put a reluctant arm around her mother’s shoulder and offered her comfort. Her eyes stayed on Tyler, however, and she looked stricken.

“I didn’t kill Bruce!” Tyler argued. “I swear! Summer, you have to believe me!”

“I do,” Summer said. “I do believe you.”

Blair let out an outraged gasp and, at that point, everyone started yelling. Maggie saw Blair’s driver break free of her hold and bolt for the door. She thought he had the right idea but knew she’d never get away with it.

An ear-piercing whistle was emitted over the shrieks and yells, and it had everyone clapping their hands over their ears. Dot lowered the two fingers from her mouth and pointed for Sam and Tyler to go to the back. Neither of them said a word. They just went.

Once they were out of sight, Dot spoke, “If you ladies would come with me, I’ll take down your statement, Blair.”

“What can I do?” Maggie asked.

“Oh, I think you’ve done enough,” Summer snapped. “Your man is about to arrest mine for a murder he didn’t commit. Are you satisfied now?”

Maggie threw her hands up in the air. Wasn’t that nice? Here she was trying to help the ungrateful woman and all she got for it was attitude.

And while, yes, she had to admit the whole thing had blown up on her, she really felt that her intentions should count for something, shouldn’t they?

Apparently not, since Dot took Summer and her mother to another room in the back, leaving Maggie standing alone in the front of the station. Pulling her gloves and hat out of her pockets, she yanked them on before she headed out into the cold to walk back to her shop.

•   •   •

“Do you think Tyler did it?” Ginger asked over a
steaming cup of hot chocolate.

Maggie had brewed a large pot of the bad mood elixir in the break room, which was in reality just a counter in the storeroom, in anticipation of her friends’ arrival. It was the best recipe in the world, which Sam had gotten from his cousin, a restaurant owner in Massachusetts—with cinnamon sticks, nutmeg and vanilla, there was no foul mood that this recipe couldn’t cure.

Well, except for maybe Tyler Fawkes’s current bad mood. Maggie had debated bringing him some cocoa, but since Dot had texted her that Sam was keeping him in the jail as a person of interest, she didn’t think cocoa was going to help Tyler. Not right now, at any rate.

“No, I don’t think Tyler did it,” Maggie said. “Well, maybe? No, no, definitely not!”

“Well, that was conclusive,” Ginger said.

They were sitting in the comfy seats in the lounge area of Maggie’s shop. She had closed for the evening, but they were waiting for Claire to join them so that they could go over their Presidents’ Day shopping plan. Maggie and Ginger had already scoured the flyers and determined which stores to hit in what order, but they wanted Claire’s input as well.

“I just can’t imagine that he would. I mean, Tyler’s the original gentle giant. He looks scary, but he’s really a big teddy bear,” Maggie said. “Then again, Blair did break them up.”

“But to whack Bruce with a hammer?” Ginger asked. “I just don’t see it.”

“I know,” Maggie said. “I’ve been afraid to call Sam, as I really am trying to mind my own business.”

Ginger raised her eyebrows. A knock on the glass door sounded before she could say anything, for which Maggie was relieved. She felt bad enough about today’s debacle without adding Ginger’s worries for her and Sam on top of it.

She hurried to the door and unlocked it, pushing it open so Claire could come in. She brought with her a nip of cold, and Ginger was already pouring a hot chocolate for her as she took a seat and began to unwrap herself from her hat, scarf, gloves and coat.

“What a day, huh?” Claire asked.

“And then some,” Maggie said.

Claire cupped her mug of chocolate and blew on it. “I have news.”

“Yes?” Ginger and Maggie asked together.

“Tyler has an alibi for Bruce’s murder,” she said. “Pete told me over dinner.”

Now why didn’t Sam tell me that? Maggie asked.

“Hush,” Ginger shushed her. “What alibi?”

“This is the best part,” Claire said. Then she took a long sip of her cocoa.

“Oh, come on,” Maggie said. “You’re killing me here.”

Both Ginger and Claire looked at her.

“Sorry, bad choice of words,” she said.

“Well, Tyler couldn’t have murdered Bruce, because he was using his truck to help Doc Franklin move back home,” Claire said.

“Doc and Alice are back together?” Ginger asked. “No kidding?”

“Word on the street is that Doc pulled out all the stops on Valentine’s Day and wore Alice down,” Claire said. “Apparently, the gazebo was all decorated, and he saw it and used it as a place to plead his case.”

Maggie smiled. Sam would be happy to hear that the gazebo had helped Doc out, too.

She took a long sip of her hot chocolate and then heaved a sigh of relief. Doc Franklin had been Maggie’s boss for over twenty years, as she had done the medical billing for his small practice since she was in high school.

Doc and Alice had been like a second family to Maggie and her daughter, and when they had split up a few months ago, Maggie had taken it harder than anyone save the two of them.

She felt a lump in her throat and had to swallow before she could speak. “That’s great news. Really great.”

“Well, for Tyler’s sake, the timing couldn’t have been better,” Claire said. “Doc gave a sworn statement that Tyler was with him all day hauling furniture.”

“Thank goodness,” Ginger said. “Of course, that doesn’t mean he didn’t shoot at Blair.”

“No, and two witnesses have said they saw his truck speed through town at the time of the shooting,” Claire said.

“Is Sam still holding him?” Maggie asked.

“He has to,” Claire said. “More for Tyler’s sake than anything else. Sam told Pete when he came to get his afternoon coffee that if another move is made on Blair, that’ll set Tyler free. He’s also assigned Dot to be Blair’s shadow until Bruce’s murderer is caught. So it sounds like Sam doesn’t think it’s Tyler but is trying to help him out.”

“I wonder if Tyler sees it that way,” Ginger said.

“I don’t know, but I’m trying to picture Dot and Blair together twenty-four/seven. That’s going to be interesting,” Maggie said.

“I wonder if Dot is getting hazard pay,” Ginger said.

“What did you discover from looking over the Cassidy finances?” Maggie asked Ginger.

“Not much more than the fact that they are loaded,” Ginger said. “I’d need more access to their accounts to dig deeper, but from what I could tell, Bruce and Blair Cassidy lived large and liked it that way.”

“Was there any indication of who would profit from Bruce’s death?” Maggie asked. Ginger and Claire both looked at her. “Other than Blair and Summer?”

“If Sela Cassidy is Bruce’s first wife and she can be found, she would be it. But there’s no financial record of her anywhere. It’s as if she vanished, so I don’t know,” Ginger said.

“With a court order, Sam can do a much more detailed search, but as far as I could see in the public records databases I accessed, Bruce had no other heirs,” Claire said.

“What do we know about Sela?” Maggie asked. “Did she have any family?”

“Maggie Gerber!” a voice barked from the door. “What part of ‘butt out’ are you not getting?”

Maggie jumped at the male voice, then she put her hand over her chest to calm her rioting heart.

“You sounded just like Sam and you almost gave me a heart attack,” she said. “That was not funny, Maxwell Button!”

“Well, neither is leaving your door unlocked when there is a murderer on the loose,” Max said. “I have a good mind to tell Sam how irresponsible you’re being.”

“Blah, blah, blah.” Maggie waved him off. “Hollow threats will not get you hot chocolate.”

“Homemade with marshmallows?” he asked.

“Mmm-hmm,” Maggie murmured.

“Fine, I’ll quit badgering.” Max stomped across the floor toward the sitting area.

“And you won’t tell Sam,” Maggie said.

“Fine,” he agreed. “Now pony up the goods.”

Tall and lanky, Max appeared to be all arms and legs, but he wore a well-cut navy suit that gave him a few more manly angles, and his black hair, which used to hang over his face, was neatly trimmed and professional-looking. Maggie couldn’t help but marvel at how her young friend had cleaned up once he found the motivation in the form of a lovely young woman named Bianca Madison.

Maxwell Button was St. Stanley’s resident genius. A throwaway kid with super smarts, the entire town, particularly Claire, had helped raise him, and now at the age of twenty, he had a law degree and had passed the bar as well as an advanced degree for any other subject that had caught his fancy, of which there were many.

“How’s school going?” Claire asked him.

Claire and Max had a long history, since Claire was the one who had found him squatting in the town library when he was a teen and had been pivotal in getting him back in school. When she discovered his smarts were off the chart, she helped him to get a job and find a place to live as well.

Sadly, Max’s own parents were not involved in their son’s life, preferring their isolated existence in their trailer on the outskirts of town. It had been Claire who guided Max’s journey to college, especially the pursuit of his law degree.

“I’m almost finished,” he said. “I just have to write my dissertation.”

Ginger poured him a mug of cocoa and pushed the bag of marshmallows at him.

“Remind me again why an attorney needs an art history degree?” she asked.

He grinned. “It helps keep my brain sharp.”

“Any other advanced degrees in the offing, boy genius?” Maggie asked.

“That’s man genius now,” he corrected her. “No, in fact, I’m looking to take on a new position altogether.”

“But I thought you liked working for Judge Harding,” Maggie said.

“I do. It’s not that position that I’m looking to change,” he said. “I’m sort of hoping for a promotion elsewhere, if you get my drift.”

Maggie glanced at Ginger and Claire. They were as perplexed as she was. The three of them looked at him with matching puzzled expressions; clearly, they had no idea what he was talking about. Goodness, she hoped he wasn’t going back to delivering pizza and working at the Frosty Freeze again.

“Here, I’ll show you,” he said. Max reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small burgundy velvet box.