Marked Down for Murder (Good Buy Girls) (8 page)

Chapter 13

Maggie was in her shop, looking over her Presidents’
Day sale flyers, planning her strategic attack on the stores that day with Ginger and Claire, when she glanced up and noticed that Summer’s store across the street wasn’t open yet. It was mid-morning on a weekday. The rest of the stores along the town green were open for business.

Maggie couldn’t help wondering why Summer’s shop wasn’t open. Yes, she knew that Summer and her mother were undoubtedly grieving for Bruce, but why wasn’t Summer’s assistant, Sheri, there? Something seemed off.

She picked up her cell phone and called Sam. He answered on the second ring.

“Sheriff Collins.”

“Hi, Sam,” she said. “Quick question.”

There was a pause, and then he said, “You want to know if I’m still holding Summer as a person of interest, don’t you?”

“What makes you think that?” she asked.

“Well, it’s mid-morning, and I know Summer hasn’t opened her shop as yet, since her assistant Sheri stopped by this morning to give her notice, effective immediately,” he said.

Maggie hissed in a breath. “She did?”

“Yeah,” he said. His tone was dry. “Something about going to work for Doc Franklin as a bookkeeper.”

“Ah,” Maggie said. She decided to save the info that she had suggested that job opportunity for another time, like, maybe a year or two down the road.

“So, I’m thinking you probably noticed the shop was closed and were wondering why.”

“Impressive bit of reasoning, Sheriff,” she said. “So, what’s going on?”

“Summer spent the night here,” he said. “She is still being held as a person of interest.”

Maggie caught her breath. She hadn’t really thought that Sam had held Summer overnight. It seemed so severe.

“Are you there, Maggie?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. She wasn’t sure of what else to say.

“If it helps, Max is here, and he’s talking over her case with her,” Sam said.

“That’s something, I guess,” Maggie said.

“I can honestly say I never thought you and I would have issues with me arresting Summer and you thinking she is innocent,” Sam said.

“It is unexpected,” Maggie agreed. “Listen, I know that you have your reasons for holding her, but I really can’t get over how she looked when I walked in on her yesterday. She did not seem like someone who had just bludgeoned her stepfather to death.”

Sam sighed. “I know. I don’t like her for it either, but there’s no getting around the facts that hers are the only fingerprints on the murder weapon and she was alone with him for long enough to have committed the deed.”

“But what about motive?” Maggie asked. “Why would she harm Bruce? What reason could she have?”

“Which is what makes her a person of interest, and not a suspect,” Sam said. “I’m keeping her here at the station for a bit longer, but unless I come up with something more solid, she will be released.”

“What do we know about Bruce Cassidy?” Maggie asked. “Does he have any enemies?”

“Everyone has enemies,” Sam said.

“I don’t,” Maggie said.

“Really?” he asked. “I could have sworn Summer was your nemesis from the day you punched her in the nose in third grade.”

“She stole my Cabbage Patch doll,” Maggie protested. “She had it coming.”

“And you wonder why I am so surprised by your concern for her,” Sam said.

“Believe me, no one is more surprised than I am,” Maggie said.

“I’m running a background check on Bruce Cassidy,” Sam said. “So far there are no hidden mistresses, gambling debts, alcohol or drug problems looming in his past. Unfortunately, because he is so new to town, I don’t have any local dirt on him either.”

“Well, someone must know something,” Maggie said. “He wasn’t here long enough to make any enemies. So, if his killer followed him here, they’d be someone new to town and they’d have to stick out, right?”

“Maggie,” Sam growled her name in a low roar that sounded as if he was close to losing his patience.

“Of course, I’m sure you already checked the obvious. Isn’t the spouse usually the most likely? I know Blair said she was at the hair salon, but was she really?”

“Maggie, no.”

“No what?”

“Do not, I repeat, do not, go digging around in Bruce Cassidy’s murder,” he said.

“Are you telling me this as my boyfriend or as the town sheriff?” she asked.

“Which one would have the most sway with you?” he asked.

Maggie knew that if she didn’t answer wisely, they were going to end up in an argument, and she really didn’t want that. The memory of their wonderful Valentine’s Day was still fresh in her mind, and she didn’t want to ruin it by arguing, especially over Summer Phillips’s guilt or lack thereof.

“Well, my boyfriend cooks for me,” she said. She made her tone light and teasing. “But the sheriff could arrest me, so I think I will respect his authority, if my boyfriend cooks me dinner.”

“I think something can be arranged.” Sam’s laugh was low and suggestive and made Maggie smile as a thrill went through her. “My place at seven?”

“I’ll be there,” she said.

She put aside her flyers and spent the afternoon going through the items that she had acquired on consignment. There were three men’s suits and a whole slew of dresses from MaryAnn Rigby. She’d been doing Weight Watchers, and every time she went down two dress sizes she donated her old dresses and went on a shopping spree. Maggie was thrilled for her but hoped she stopped before she got so thin that her head seemed too big for her body. That was never a good look.

She had just gotten the items tagged when the front door opened. Maggie glanced up and greeted the man who entered with surprise.

“Well, hey there, Tyler. What brings you here?” she asked.

Tyler Fawkes had not entered My Sister’s Closet since he started dating Summer Phillips a few months before and she had forbidden him to step on enemy turf.

He looked sheepish. He took the beat-up John Deere cap off his head and twisted it in his hands.

“Hey, Maggie,” he said. “I’m real sorry I haven’t been by your shop in a while. It wasn’t very neighborly of me, and I feel bad about it.”

“It’s all good, Tyler,” Maggie reassured him. Big and hairy, he lumbered around the small space, making Maggie cringe when he got too close to the breakables. Honestly, it was like having a bear cub in the shop. “I know there were extenuating circumstances that were no fault of yours.”

“Yeah, well, about that.” He paused and scratched his beard. “I’m here to ask you a favor.”

“Me?”

“I’m worried about my girl, Maggie,” he said. His voice was solemn. “I need you to help her.”

“Say what?” Maggie asked. Shock was too mild a word for the surprise she felt. “Just so we’re clear, your girl is Summer, right?”

“Yep,” he said.

“The same Summer I just caught you in a motel room with, the same Summer you dumped because she was making a play for my man—you know, the one who has her locked up for murder. The same Summer who has caused me untold years of heartbreak and aggravation,” Maggie said. “You want me to help
that
Summer?”

“Yeah, funny, isn’t it?” Tyler chuckled as if Maggie were telling a good joke.

“Are you completely out of your mind?” she asked.

Tyler stopped laughing. He slammed his cap back onto his head and a belligerent look took root on his face with the tenacity of crabgrass.

“No,” he said. “I know you and Summer have had your issues.”

“Issues?” Maggie gasped. “Tyler, in high school she put ketchup packets on my seat in algebra. Do you have any idea how that looked? How mortified I was?”

Tyler started scratching his beard again, and Maggie had a feeling that he was trying not to laugh.

“It’s not funny!” Maggie protested. Truly, the more she thought about the history between her and Summer, the more she hoped the other woman rotted in jail. Okay, no she didn’t. Especially since she really didn’t believe that Summer had anything to do with Bruce’s murder.

Tyler must have sensed her wavering, because he looked suddenly serious and said, “Yeah, but didn’t she do that because you put hot sauce in her lip gloss?”

Maggie glanced away. “It was self-defense. Besides, Summer started it.”

“Maggie, seriously, how old are you?” he asked.

Maggie sighed and flopped down onto the counter, resting her head on her arms. Hadn’t she just promised Sam she would butt out? Why was Tyler here now, making a liar out of her?

“Why me, Tyler?” she asked. “Knowing all of the bad blood between Summer and me, why are you asking for my help? I’m not a lawyer or a cop. What can I possibly do to help her?”

“Well, first of all, you’re the sheriff’s main squeeze, so you have influence.”

Maggie shook her head. “I have no influence.”

“Whatever,” Tyler said, obviously not believing her. “Also, you have a knack for helping people. You helped Bianca Madison when her mother was murdered.”

“Yeah, but Bianca was innocent,” Maggie said.

“And Summer is, too,” he said. “If you ask me, Sam ought to be looking at her mama, that evil woman.”

“I can’t argue that,” Maggie said. “But Blair has a solid alibi. She was here harassing me, and then she went to the hairdresser’s to have her roots touched up.”

“Here? She was here?” Tyler asked. “What was she doing here?”

“Trying to pay me not to see Sam anymore,” Maggie said. “To open the playing field for her daughter, as it were.”

“No way!” Tyler looked outraged.

“Nine thousand dollars of way,” Maggie said.

“You didn’t take it, did you?”

“No!” Maggie said. “You know me better than that.”

“Yeah, but that’s a lot of money,” he said. “I mean, even true love might waver in the clutches of cold, hard cash.”

“So, if Blair offered you nine thousand to stop seeing Summer, would you?”

“Hell no!” he said. “Of course, she didn’t need to, because I dumped Summer as soon as I discovered she was listening to that mean old cow and chasing after Sam.”

He looked so depressed that Maggie actually felt sorry for him.

“Yes, but she did get frisky with you at that motel, and she told me that she was going to warn Sam about her mother and not make a pass at him,” Maggie said. “That has to count for something.”

“I s’pose,” he said. He sounded like he didn’t believe Summer’s story to Maggie any more than Maggie had. “Well, listen, this isn’t about me and her. I really just want you to do what you can to help her. She didn’t kill her stepfather. I know she didn’t.”

“How do you know?” Maggie asked. She was curious about Tyler’s certainty.

“Because I know who she is down in her heart,” he said.

Maggie resisted the urge to point out that it was a tiny little raisin of a heart that probably didn’t have the capacity to pump out any feelings of love for anyone other than herself. It about killed her, but she kept that observation quiet.

“I know you doubt it, Maggie,” Tyler said, correctly reading the expression on her face. “But it’s true. My girl has a lot of love to give. She just has to shake her mother off and she’ll be fine.”

Maggie stared at him for a few seconds. She had promised Sam she wouldn’t get involved. But Tyler had come to her; she didn’t seek him out. Surely she was upholding her promise if she just conversed with Tyler. Right?

“Okay, tell me what you know about Bruce Cassidy,” she said.

“I only met the man briefly,” Tyler said.

“Okay, give me your impressions,” she said.

“He came across as the indulgent husband and stepfather,” Tyler said. “But—”

“Yes?” Maggie prodded.

“Well, before Blair busted us up, I went over to Summer’s for dinner, and I watched how they all were, you know, the dynamic between them,” he said.

“Really?” Maggie didn’t know if she was more impressed by his use of the word dynamic or the fact that he had consciously observed Summer’s family. Usually, Tyler couldn’t look past a woman’s boobs, so for him to have been on alert and watching dynamics, well, it made her wonder if Summer was even more special for him than he was aware.

“Yeah, and Bruce was tough,” he said.

“Tough how?” Maggie asked.

“He made Blair account for all of her spending,” he said. “And I didn’t get the feeling that it was because they didn’t have the money and he was trying to keep a budget, but rather, it seemed like it was a control issue between them.”

“Control how?”

“Like he had control over Blair if he had control over her spending,” Tyler said. “He liked to come across as all generous, but then he’d say things like ‘You’ll earn that little bauble later.’”

Maggie frowned. She didn’t like that. Frankly, it gave her the creeps.

“How did Blair handle that?” she asked.

“She giggled,” he said. “Like it was a game.”

“Did it bother Summer?” Maggie asked.

“She wouldn’t say, but I got the feeling it made her uncomfortable,” he said.

Maggie mulled that over. This was Blair’s fifth husband; surely Summer had gotten used to them coming and going in her life. She doubted Summer would feel threatened enough by any of these men to murder them, especially now that she was a grown woman with a business and life of her own. Then again, Blair did seem to hold an awful lot of power over her daughter. If Summer felt her mother was being threatened, how far would she go to protect Blair?

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