Good Buy Girls 05 - All Sales Final

by Josie Belle

  The text was dry, written by a local historian who, while well meaning, had prose that was overblown and flouncy and as dry as dirt. She always thought fiction writers would be the best ones to write history textbooks for the very reason that they could make them come to life.

  She plodded through several generations, relieved when she finally got to names that she knew. There was mention of when the house was built, long before the Civil War, but mostly the chapter was about the people who made up the Dixon clan.

  There was a long line of inventors and scientists, followed by local politicians; a Dixon had been the town mayor back in the early nineteen-hundreds. Post–Depression era Dixons were more involved in economics and banking, clearly not trusting their money to any unknown institutions ever again. Ida and Imogene Dixon made up the last chapter. At the time the book was published, both sisters were still alive and residing on their own in the family estate.

  Ida Dixon was the more creative of the twins. She loved theater and painting, and her family supported her interests in the arts. Imogene was the more pragmatic of the two and preferred a good book to the company of people. Maggie thought the author sounded as if he were writing from personal experience and she wondered if Imogene had rebuffed queries for an interview.

  Apparently, Imogene had been very civic-minded and had overseen the library as well as the historical society at one time. Maggie had only known the sisters in their later years and only from a distance. Ida had always dressed feminine in big floppy sun hats with gloves and flouncy dresses. Imogene, on the other hand, wore tailored slacks with crisp blouses. Maggie had always gotten the feeling that Imogene could have been the CEO of a major company with her snappy duds and sharp mind and, now that she was learning more about her, she knew her impression had been correct.

  The book made no mention of either sister ever marrying or having children. The author mentioned one poignant moment during his interview with Ida, who was seventy-five at the time, when her eyes grew misty and she glanced away when asked why she had never married. After she composed herself, she said, “My one true love found another more to his liking and left me to pine. I never found another quite like him and so I stayed alone.”

  Maggie felt her throat get tight at the thought of a woman missing out on her one true love and spending her days longing for him. She closed the book and glanced up to find Sam smiling at her.

  “Ah!” she cried. Then she put her hand over her heart. “Give a girl a little warning, why don’t you?”

  The crinkles around Sam’s eyes deepened. “The bells jangled, I coughed, I called your name, and you heard none of it.”

  “I was engrossed,” Maggie said.

  “So I gathered,” he said. “I’m glad I wasn’t a burglar here to rob you. You’d have been cleaned out before you noticed. So what lurid story are you reading?”

  “The history of the Dixon family,” she said. She came around the counter and hugged him tight. “Poor Ida, she said she pined all her days for the love of her life, who left her for another. It was just so sad.”

  Sam hugged her in return. A really good one that melded her to his solid frame and made her feel safe and secure. Then he sealed it by kissing the top of her head.

  “Good thing you never have to worry about that,” he said. “We’ll be married in a few weeks and then you’ll never be able to shake me loose.”

  “Promise?” she asked.

  “Promise,” he said.

  Maggie glanced around the shop. There were no surprise customers or family members. It was just the two of them.

  “So, where’s your friend?” she asked. “Andy?”

  “She’s out at the house, checking over the scene,” he said. “I’ll introduce you later.”

  “Great,” Maggie said. “Funny thing about the name Andy, I thought it was a man’s.”

  “Oh.” Sam looked surprised. “Didn’t I mention that she’s a she?”

  “Nope,” she said.

  “Am I in trouble?” he asked.

  Maggie laughed. “Not with me but you might want to duck if you see Summer Fawkes coming your way.”

  Sam stepped back and cocked his head like a dog hearing the fire truck coming through the neighborhood.

  “Do tell,” he said. It wasn’t a request so much as an order.

  Maggie told him all about Summer’s visit, her desire to be a Good Buy Girl and her suspicions about Andy. When she was finished, Sam was quiet for a moment but then a chuckle busted out of him, and he shook his head.

  “Well, I can honestly say I never saw that coming,” he said.

  “Me either,” she agreed. “But just for clarity’s sake, which part did you find the most amusing? Summer wanting to be my friend or Summer thinking Andy is warm for your form.”

  “Both, but probably Summer wanting to be your friend is the big shocker,” Sam said. “But just so you don’t have any misgivings, let me tell you right now that Andy isn’t my type, but even more telling, I’m not hers. Andy likes girls.”

  “Oh . . . oh!” Maggie said. “I like her already.”

  “I thought you might,” he said. “So, how about we head over to the house and you can meet her and see what a genius she is with old bones?”

  Maggie glanced around the shop. There really wasn’t any reason to stay open for another half hour until closing.

  “Sounds like a plan,” she said. “I’ll go get my things. We do need to talk.”

  “What?” he protested. “I thought I cleared it up with the whole ‘she doesn’t play with boys’ speech.”

  Maggie grabbed the rest of the books and her purse from the back room and joined him by the counter. She liked Sam when he was flustered. He looked anxious like a boy who broke a window with a slingshot and was trying to do the right thing and not run off even though his feet were itching to fly.

  “No, it’s not about Andy,” she said. “It’s worse.”

  Now he looked concerned. “How much worse?”

  “Our mothers,” she said.

  “Oh.” He visibly sagged and Maggie had a feeling he’d been on the receiving end of his own mother’s lectures.

  “They ‘bumped’ into each other at the florist’s while they were each trying to pick our flowers for us,” she said.

  “Was there bloodshed? Do I have to put out a warrant for their arrests?”

  He pushed off of the counter and dropped his arm over her shoulders while they walked to the door.

  “Not that I’m aware of but I think it’s clear they did not see eye to eye on the floral arrangements.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t you be picking those out?”

  He let go of Maggie and opened the door. He waited while she locked it and then pulled her close again as they strode up the sidewalk to his car.

  “Yes, but I’m feeling very indecisive,” she said. “I can’t seem to pick a venue, a dress, flowers, food. I don’t mean to have a mental meltdown, but there is no way we are ready to get married in a few weeks.”

  “Sure we are,” he said.

  Maggie looked at him as if he was crazy.

  “Darling, the only thing we need to get married is you, me, a marriage license and Pastor Shields,” he said. “I’m pretty sure I have a lock on you and me, the license is good to go and Pastor Shields has us booked. Everything else is just details.”

  Maggie stopped walking and turned to look at him. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

  “Maggie O’Brien Gerber, I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you in preschool. It’s taken me forty years to get you to love me, too, and I am not about to let flowers, mothers or any other nonsense jam up the most important day of my life. Am I clear?”

  Maggie threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the mouth. She did love it when he used his sheriff voice on her. As always, the attraction between them turned what should have been a quick kiss into one that was smoking hot, and when Dale Mercer drove by, he felt compelle
d to hold the horn on his truck down for a nice long blast and shout a suggestion that they get a room.

  Maggie and Sam broke apart and while Maggie felt her face heat up in embarrassment, Sam looked overly pleased with himself. She was pretty sure he swaggered all the way to his waiting car.

  He opened the door for her and she paused before climbing in to study his handsome face. Sometimes it tripped her up how much she loved him, how giddy he made her feel, how unexpected these feelings were in her forties. She was so grateful for this second chance with the first man she’d ever loved.

  “For the record,” she said. “It didn’t take me forty years to fall in love with you. I’ve loved you, too, ever since we tussled in preschool.”

  This time when Sam kissed her, it was a soul-deep connection of complete understanding.

  * * *

  Maggie was a bit taken aback by the number of cars in the driveway to their house. Most were official-looking vehicles but some were personal cars. She assumed they belonged to people who wanted to get a look-see at the skeleton in their root cellar. Sam was forced to park on the street in front of their house instead of in the drive.

  “How many people are in our house?” she asked. They walked single file passed the cars in the driveway.

  “It varies from hour to hour,” he said. “But only the important people have access to the basement.”

  They stepped up onto the porch to find Deputy Dot Wilson and Deputy Stephen Rourke playing cards while sitting on the front steps.

  As soon as he saw Sam, Deputy Rourke rose to his feet but Dot stayed put. She was not a pushover for the boss like the younger officers were.

  “I do not have any threes. Go Fish,” she said. She glanced at Sam and Maggie over her cards. “I heard from Sally Richmond at the grocery who heard from Rene Zucker at the hospital that there is supposed to be a bacon station at your reception. Is that true?”

  Maggie and Sam exchanged surprised glances. Maggie shrugged and Sam shrugged in return.

  “I thought so,” Dot said with a huff. “Well, just so you know, a bacon station is all the rage and I would seriously consider it if I were you.”

  “We’ll take it under advisement,” Sam said.

  He took Maggie’s elbow and led her into the house. Maggie tried not to tut at the muddy footprints on the floor, but Sam must have registered her unhappiness in the stiffening of her posture.

  “We’ll have a cleaning crew sweep through the house when we’re done, I promise,” he said.

  Maggie listened for any creaks or door slams as they made their way through the house but with the noise coming from downstairs, it was impossible to discern.

  “No lights have flashed, no doors have slammed and no ghosts have been sighted,” Sam said as he started down the stairs to the basement.

  “How’d you know what I was thinking?” she asked.

  “Because I saw the concentration lines in between your eyes deepen,” he said.

  Maggie felt her forehead. “Wrinkles? Are you telling me I’m wrinkled?”

  “Only when you worry,” he said.

  Maggie huffed out a breath. She knew he was right, which only made his observation all the more annoying.

  Unlike her last time in the basement when just a flashlight had held back the gloom, this time great big floodlights filled the space, brightening up even the darkest corners. If there were any critters residing down here, Maggie was sure this ruckus would have driven them out into the back forty, so that was a plus.

  Deputy Curtis was stationed by the storm doors at the far side of the basement. He waved when he saw Sam and Maggie and they waved back. A rolling cart had been set up outside the small root cellar and it was covered with equipment and supplies, among which Maggie noticed there was a body bag.

  “You all right?” Sam asked.

  “Fine,” she lied.

  Then she realized her fingers had tightened their grip on his and she forced herself to relax and loosen her hold.

  “No, no, no, that’s the wrong angle,” a woman’s voice barked from inside the root cellar. “We need a close-up of the fracture of the skull. Shine the light here and take the pictures from above.”

  Maggie glanced inside the room to see Andy, the woman she had seen with Sam earlier, shouting orders to two others. They all wore white coveralls and masks, as well as the same blue latex gloves Sam used when investigating a crime scene.

  “They are planning on moving him, aren’t they?” Maggie asked.

  “Once they’ve fully recorded the scene,” Sam said. “They’ll take Captain Bones back to the lab for further analysis.”

  “Any clues yet as to what happened?”

  “The crack on his skull is pretty telling, but Andy will have to be the one to decide for sure if it was a killing blow. She’s the best, so I imagine she’ll be able to tell us what killed him and hopefully who he was.”

  At the sound of her name, Andy whipped her head around and glanced at them.

  “Sam!” she cried. “I was hoping you weren’t going to miss the best part.”

  “Which would be what?” he asked.

  “The extraction of the body,” she said. She fairly glowed with excitement.

  Maggie glanced down at Andy’s feet but she didn’t feel anything but relief that Captain Bones was going to be lodging elsewhere.

  “Cool. Hey, come on out here for a sec,” Sam said. “I want you to meet my fiancée.”

  Maggie saw the look on Andy’s face when he said the word fiancée. It was fleeting but there was no doubt that her expression darkened with a whole lot of unhappy.

  If what Sam said was true and Andy wasn’t interested in him romantically then why did she care if he had a fiancée? The expression vanished so swiftly that Maggie wondered if she’d imagined it, but no, she knew dislike when she felt it. This woman did not like her at all.

  “Andy, this is Maggie,” Sam said. “Maggie, this is Andy, the best forensic pathologist in the state.”

  Andy looked pleased at the praise and she grinned at Sam. “Why, I bet you say that to all the forensic pathologists.”

  “Nope, just you,” Sam said. He returned her grin.

  “Well, coming from the best detective the Richmond PD ever had, I’ll take that as very high praise,” Andy said.

  Maggie glanced between them, suddenly feeling like the third wheel on a bicycle built for two in the midst of their mutual admiration society.

  “So, what can you tell us about our houseguest?” Maggie asked.

  Andy glanced at her and then blatantly ignored her question. Instead, she pulled off her gloves and removed her cap and mask. The features Maggie had only glimpsed from afar before were now up close and horrifying. The woman had a head of thick, glossy black hair, a heart-shaped face that was defined by high cheekbones and arching eyebrows. She was, in a word, breathtaking.

  Maggie glanced at Sam to see his reaction to the unveiling. He was still grinning at his friend and Maggie had a sudden urge to kick him.

  “Hey, remember the time we got called out to the docks to retrieve a dead body out of the water?” Andy asked Sam.

  He nodded with a chuckle. “Yeah, and the divers couldn’t get there in time so we had to fish him out with a borrowed rod and reel.”

  “He was the catch of the day,” Andy joked and the two of them shared a knuckle bump and busted up laughing.

  Maggie looked at them in horror.

  “Sorry,” Sam said, recovering first. “Gallows humor.”

  “Yeah, it keeps you from screaming in the middle of the night,” Andy said. “But you have to be in the biz to understand.”

  Now they exchanged a grim look and, again, Maggie felt like quite the outsider. It was pretty clear that the two of them shared a long and grisly history.

  “I’m going to grab some coffee,” Sam said, and he gestured to the coffee pot in the corner. “Do either of you want some?”

  “No, thanks,” Maggie said.

  �
�Yes, please,” Andy said. She rubbed a hand over her eyes, and Maggie could see that she looked tired. “You know how I like it?”

  “Of course,” Sam said. “As thick and as black as tar and able to dissolve a spoon within ten minutes.”

  “Aw, you remembered,” Andy said. “Thanks.”

  They watched him walk away and Maggie turned to Andy. She didn’t know what to say to her, and she hated to admit it, but she felt intimidated by the other woman’s occupation. Clearly, if Sam had called her the best, she was.

  She decided to keep the conversation on Captain Bones—a neutral topic, she hoped.

  “So, what can you tell me about our friend in there?” she asked.

  Andy studied her for a moment. Her gaze was shrewd and Maggie had no idea what assumptions she was making about her. Maggie refused to knuckle under, however, and she maintained her eye contact with Andy. The woman must have sensed her determination, because Andy glanced at the root cellar and then back at Maggie. To Maggie’s surprise, she answered her.

  “It takes about fifty years for a body in a coffin deep in the ground to decompose and lose all of its tissue. I’d say this body was here are least seventy years and judging by the bits of uniform, which we’ll have to verify, it looks to have been here since the Second World War. It’s too early to say for sure, but the cranial fracture looks like it could have been a blunt head trauma and the cause of death.”

  Maggie nodded. She and Sam had figured as much but it was good to hear it confirmed. They were both quiet for a moment.

  “You know Sam was the best detective on the Richmond PD, right?” Andy asked.

  Maggie glanced across the basement where Sam was fixing two coffees and chatting with his deputy.

  “Sam’s good at whatever he does, so yeah, I figured as much,” she said.

  “Then you know what a waste it is to have him stuck in the middle of Podunk nowhere, spinning his wheels writing traffic tickets when he could be making a real difference,” Andy said.

  Now the flash of dislike Maggie had seen before on Andy’s face was more than evident. She could feel the other woman’s anger toward her but she had no idea how to talk her out of it.