Marked Down for Murder (Good Buy Girls) (15 page)

“I’m sneaking back there to see what’s happening,” she declared.

“You can’t,” Ginger said. “They could be at a critical moment in the birthing. Besides, this time really needs to be just for them.”

“But I can’t take it anymore,” Claire said as she shoved her fingers into her hair. “What if she needs us?”

“Michael would have sent someone to get us,” Maggie said. “Joanne’s a tough girl from New York. She’s going to be just fine.”

“What about the baby?” Claire asked. “It’s early.”

“Not that early,” Ginger said. “Just a few weeks, and due dates are always a little fuzzy anyway, especially if you’re trying really hard.”

Maggie grinned. “It’s true.”

“Okay, but I’m just going to take a peek to be sure,” Claire said.

“Fine,” Ginger said in a resigned voice. “I’ll go with you.”

“I’ll hold the fort,” Maggie said.

The two friends walked into the maternity ward as if they were expected. Maggie shook her head. It seemed like just yesterday that she and Ginger were here starting their families. Now Laura and Aaron were adults, and days filled with sticky jam kisses and broken crayons were long over.

“How’s it going?” a voice asked from the door.

Maggie spun around, and there stood Sam. He was still in his work clothes, but his tie was loose, hanging lower than his unbuttoned collar.

“It’s going,” she said. She crossed the room and gave him a big hug just because he looked like he needed it. “Ginger and Claire are doing baby recon.”

Sam grinned. “So it’s not here yet?”

“Not yet,” she said. “Did you come by to wait with us?”

“I wish I could,” he said. “This is just a check-in. I’ve got to go back to the office after this.”

Maggie studied his face. He looked as if something heavy was on his mind.

“What is it?” she asked. “What have you found out?”

He hesitated as if he didn’t want to tell her.

“Oh, come on,” Maggie cajoled. “If you told Summer and Blair then it’s only a matter of time, likely minutes, before I find out. You know gossip moves at the speed of light in St. Stanley.”

He kissed her head and then nodded.

“Okay. While running background checks, I discovered what I suspected, that the lives of Terry Knox and Bruce Cassidy intersected about ten years ago in California.”

“So they knew each other?” Maggie asked.

“Yeah, and they were definitely close enough for Knox to kill Cassidy and take his identity,” Sam said.

“How did you . . . oh, my . . . are you sure?”
Maggie asked.

“Pretty sure,” Sam said. “Terry Knox rented a guest-house from Bruce and Sela Cassidy for about a year, then the Cassidys up and left for Europe, leaving Knox to oversee the estate.”

“Well, that seems straightforward enough,” she said.

“Yes, except the Cassidys never came back, the house and guesthouse were abandoned and Terry Knox disappeared. There is literally no record of him after he left the guesthouse.”

“So, you think he didn’t really disappear, but became Bruce . . .” Maggie’s voice trailed off as she tried to put it together.

“About a year after the Cassidys left for Europe, a Bruce Cassidy reappeared in the Boston area. There was no Sela with him. However, former coworkers of Bruce Cassidy—he had no family—received a few postcards from Europe over the years supposedly from Bruce and Sela saying that they loved it there and were never coming back.”

“Weird,” Maggie said. “So do you think they’re really in Europe and this Terry just borrowed their name?”

“No, the financial trail indicates that Terry assumed both Bruce’s identity
and
his fortune,” Sam said.

“Whoa,” Maggie said. “And no one has seen Bruce or Sela since?”

“No,” he said.

“Do you think he murdered them both?” Maggie asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Sam said. He rubbed a hand over his eyes.

“Is there any way to prove it?” Maggie asked.

“The house was sold a few years ago for back taxes,” Sam said. “The San Diego PD is going to search the premises to see if they find any forensic evidence to indicate a crime, but after so much time, I don’t know what evidence might be left.”

“It seems like Terry must have had an accomplice, though, doesn’t it?” Maggie asked. “I mean, how else, if he doesn’t have a passport, could he have mailed the postcards?”

“He could have bought someone off on their way to Europe,” Sam said. “If he asked someone on their way to Munich to mail a postcard for him, they might have done it, thinking nothing of it.”

“I suppose,” Maggie said. “But then who murdered Terry Knox? It had to be someone who knew his secret.”

“I’m trying to track down whether he had any family or friends in San Diego who might have gotten wise to him,” Sam said. “But ten years is a long way to dig.”

Maggie thought about the man she had known as Bruce Cassidy. “I have to say, he didn’t give off a killer vibe when I met him.”

“The scary ones never do,” Sam said. Maggie shivered, and he hugged her close. “My theory as of now is that someone knew his secret and that someone killed him because of it. I suspect whoever killed Knox thinks he told Blair about his scam and that’s why they’re coming after her now—to keep her quiet so they can take the money and run.”

“So you think they’re doing to him what he did to the Cassidys,” she said.

“Yes, but they’re a lot sloppier,” he said.

“Blair must be terrified,” Maggie said.

“I’ve got a detail assigned to her twenty-four/seven,” Sam said. “But not knowing who we’re looking for makes it tricky.”

The doors to the ward opened and Ginger and Claire came rushing out.

“She’s pushing!” Claire cried. “The baby is almost here!”

Maggie glanced at Ginger and saw her brown eyes sparkle with excitement as she confirmed, “Any minute now.”

“Whoa! We’re having a baby,” Sam said. His eyes went wide, and then he threw an arm around Maggie’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Isn’t this exciting?”

“I have to text Roger,” Ginger said. “He wants to be here.”

“Pete, too,” Claire said. They both scrambled for their phones.

Maggie looked at Sam. “You sure seem excited about this.”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I mean, Michael and I are pretty tight since his employee was murdered a few months ago. He still has nightmares about it. I tried to help him, but you know what really got him moving forward?”

Maggie shook her head.

“Knowing he was going to be a dad,” he said. “It’s been pretty amazing to watch him embrace the life change. He and Joanne are going to be the best parents.”

“Yeah, I know,” Maggie said. She was touched by how much Sam cared about their friends. It meant a lot to her that Sam had been there for Michael when he needed him, but there was a little part of her that wondered if Sam was excited because he wanted to be a dad, too.

“Roger is on his way,” Ginger declared.

“Pete can’t get away as there’s a band playing at the shop tonight and he’s short-staffed, but I am to give him minute-by-minute reports,” Claire said.

“When you had Laura, how long did it take?” Sam asked.

“Just a few hours,” she said.

“Same here,” Ginger said. “And Joanne’s been in there a few hours so I’m sure it will be any second.”

“I’ll bet you were brave,” Sam said. His gaze was full of tenderness and Maggie didn’t have the heart to disillusion him. How lucky for her that Ginger had no problem with doing so.

“Brave?” Ginger laughed. “She wailed like a banshee. We thought she was dying. Her mom almost called the pastor in to wait with us just in case.”

“I was not that bad,” Maggie said. “And you should talk. I heard language come out of your lips that I am quite sure your mother would have scrubbed your mouth out for using.”

Ginger laughed. “Roger has never let me live that down.”

The doors to the maternity ward opened and Michael came out. He looked jubilant, which Maggie took as a sign that all had gone well.

“We did it! Well, Joanne did it. She was amazing,” he said. His grin was one of pure joy. “And we now have a healthy, beautiful bouncing baby girl.”

“Ah!” Claire and Ginger shrieked together as they hugged each other and then began to cry in a combination of relief and happiness.

Sam hugged Maggie tight and kissed the top of her head. Maggie squeezed him back and then stepped forward to hug Michael.

“Congratulations,” she said, feeling her own eyes get watery. “That’s wonderful.”

“Can we see her?” Claire asked as she and Ginger hugged him and Sam shook his hand.

“Joanne and the baby, both of them?” Ginger asked.

“Yeah, come on back,” he said. “Joanne and the baby are all cleaned up and swaddled.”

En masse they quietly made their way back to the maternity ward. Gone were the machines and the staff. In the dimly lit room, it was just Joanne propped up in bed with a bundle in her arms.

She glanced up when they entered, and the light in Joanne’s eyes made Maggie’s throat get tight. Motherhood was all Joanne had ever wanted. To see her holding her baby in her arms after all the years of trying—well, it was pretty awesome.

They all gathered around the bed. Claire and Ginger got the first peek beneath the pink-and-blue-striped flannel. A gauzy little cap covered the baby’s head. Her eyes were closed, and the lids had a sheen to them from the goo the nurses put on right after she was born, but her round face was plump and pink and she looked the picture of contentment in her mother’s arms.

When Ginger and Claire stepped aside, Sam and Maggie moved in to get a peek.

“She’s beautiful,” Sam said. “Just perfect.”

“She really is,” Maggie agreed.

“Do you want to hold her?” Joanne asked.

Maggie eagerly held out her arms, and Joanne carefully handed her the baby.

“I haven’t held one this small since my grandnephew,” Maggie said. She pressed her cheek to the baby’s head. “There is nothing so amazing as a newborn.”

Sam smiled at her, and she noted the way his eyes crinkled in the corners. “You look good with a baby in your arms.”

Maggie wondered if he thought they were having a moment, like this could be them. This could not be them. She was not having another baby, and she didn’t care how cute the baby daddy was or how much she loved him.

She decided to cut the moment short lest Sam get any crazy ideas. She saw Ginger behind Sam and said, “Here you go. Your turn.”

Ginger practically snatched the baby out of her arms. “About time. You were baby hogging,” she said.

“I was not,” Maggie said. Ginger gave her a look. “I wasn’t.”

Ginger studied the tiny little face and took a big inhale as if she were smelling a bouquet. “Fresh out of the oven baby smell. I love it.”

“So, what are you naming her?” Claire asked. She was peering at the baby over Ginger’s shoulder as if trying to determine what would be a good name.

Maggie noted the non-answer and glanced up to see Joanne and Michael staring at each other.

“We don’t know yet,” Joanne said. “We have a couple of possibilities, but we’re going to see which fits best over the next few days.”

“
Claire
means
bright and famous
,” Claire said. “Just, you know, if you’re really stuck.”

Joanne and Michael exchanged a smile.

“We’ll consider adding it to the options,” Michael said. “Right now, we’re just happy that mom and baby are a-okay.”

“Amen to that,” Ginger said.

Sam’s phone chimed and he pulled it out of his pocket and checked the screen. “I have to take this. Excuse me.”

He gave Maggie’s hand a quick squeeze as he walked out the door into the hallway. She watched him go, knowing that this was his life. Always on the job, always on the case—there were no days off for the sheriff of a small town.

“The Cassidy case?” Michael asked as he moved to stand beside her.

“Yeah,” Maggie said. “But let’s not think about it. You’re a dad! How wonderful is that?”

Michael grinned and threw an arm about her. “Pretty darn wonderful!”

They spent some more time cooing over the baby, but when Joanne yawned Maggie took it as a signal to let the new family rest.

“Will you be going home tomorrow?” Maggie asked.

“Yes,” Joanne said. “Bright and early.”

“I’m bringing dinner tomorrow,” Ginger said. “So don’t you worry about a thing.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Joanne protested.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to,” Ginger said.

“And I have the night after that,” Maggie said.

“And then me,” Claire chimed in.

Joanne snuggled her baby close. “I’m so glad I became a Good Buy Girl. I’ll have to raise you up to be one, too.”

“She’s already in the club,” Ginger assured her.

With hugs and kisses and one last glance at the baby, Ginger, Claire and Maggie left the family to their bonding and headed back to the waiting room.

They were just gathering their things and throwing out the empty pizza box, when Sam popped back into the room. “Sorry about that.”

“Is everything all right?” Maggie asked.

“Yeah, that was just Blair checking in,” he said.

“Checking in?” Ginger asked.

“Every hour, like clockwork, whether I want her to or not,” he said. He shrugged. “She’s scared.”

“Understandable,” Maggie said. “If someone shot at me, I’d be skittish, too.”

“Can I give anyone a lift home?” Sam asked.

“I have my car,” Ginger said. “But I’m sure Maggie could use a lift. Claire, I can drop you off at Pete’s on the way.”

“Perfect,” Claire said. “See you two later.”

Ginger and Claire exited the hospital in front of them.

Maggie glanced at Sam. “It looks like my ride just ditched me.”

“Lucky me,” he said. He put his arm around her and together they left the hospital and walked to his patrol car parked just off the main entrance.

“So, you get to just make a parking spot wherever you feel like it?” Maggie teased.

“Perk of the job,” he said. He handed her into the front seat and then circled around the car to the driver’s side.

“Do you have to head back to the station, or do you have time to grab dinner?” Maggie asked.

This was it, she decided. The aftermath of seeing Joanne and Michael and their baby was the perfect time to ask Sam if he wanted a family of his own, and no matter what his answer was, she would deal with it in a mature and reasonable fashion. And she most definitely wouldn’t cry.

“Dinner, definitely,” he said. He paused to look at her. “Are you all right?”

“Fine.” Maggie gave him a quick nod. “Just emotional.”

“Babies will do that.” Sam nodded.

As soon as Sam pulled away from the curb, his radio crackled to life.

“Sheriff, we have a call of a two-eleven at a shop on Main Street. Do you read me?” the dispatch officer’s voice asked.

“Roger that,” Sam said as he clicked a button on his handset. “What’s the address?”

“Thirty-nine Main Street,” the officer said.

“Thirty-nine? What?” Maggie cried. “That’s my address. What’s a two-eleven?”

Sam’s face was grim. “Burglary.”