by Josie Belle
“It was Sam’s choice to retire—” she began but Andy interrupted.
“Sure, but he was bored after ten minutes here and seriously considering coming back until you came along,” Andy said. “Make no mistake, I’m here to help my friend investigate a potential crime scene, but when I go back to Richmond I fully intend to bring Sam back with me.”
Maggie was so shocked she was pretty sure she’d lost her powers of speech and that never happened. Here she’d thought that Andy wanted Sam back for a relationship and she’d been right. But it wasn’t a romantic one, it was a working one.
“The man retired,” she said. Her temper loosened her tongue enough to spit out the words. “Let him go already.”
“Oh, but it’s not me who’s hanging on,” Andy said. “It’s him. Who do you think calls every week just to check in and see what cases we have cooking? He does. Why? Because he misses it. Look, I’ve got nothing against you or your cute little town, but that boy belongs in Richmond where he can be challenged by real cases and do what he loves. If you really love him, you’ll encourage him to move back where he belongs whether you come with him or not.”
Maggie felt as if Andy had just clocked her upside the head with a sledgehammer. Was it true? Was Sam unhappy in St. Stanley? She’d never lived anywhere else. Sure, she traveled but she always came home to St. Stanley. Always.
She felt Andy move away from her as she went back into the root cellar with Captain Bones. She stared at Sam across the basement and watched him talking and laughing with one of the investigators from the county medical examiner’s office. He really did look like he was in his element.
Was Andy right? Did Sam want to go back to Richmond? Could she walk away from everything she’d ever known and go with him? The thought made Maggie a bit queasy, mostly because they’d just bought this house and she’d just opened her own business.
Still, she didn’t want to marry Sam and then, in a few months or weeks, have him up and leave her to go back to Richmond because he missed his job.
She glanced back at the root cellar and watched Andy ordering around her staff. Maggie straightened her spine. There was no way she was going to let this woman get inside her head. If Sam wanted to go back to Richmond, he would have told her by now. She was sure of it.
She took out her phone and sent a text to the Good Buy Girls. Yes, even Summer. Like it or not, she needed some of Summer’s man advice. In fact, she needed all of their man advice.
Plus, she needed to get a handle on this wedding. If she didn’t want to lose Sam then she had better make darn sure that they got hitched on the day they said they were getting hitched. And while it was okay for him to have just the two of them and Pastor Shields, she needed a little bit more in the witness box, especially if he was getting wobbly on her.
She glanced back at Andy. Sam had brought her coffee to her and the two of them were laughing together again, no doubt some more gallows humor about the good old days. Well, that was fine. She didn’t mind a little reminiscing, but there was no way she was going to let Andy infiltrate their wedding.
“You’ll stop my wedding over my dead body,” she muttered.
A cold draft blew across her skin and Maggie shivered. She glanced behind her to see if the storm doors were open and if that was where the breeze was coming from. No, they were shut. She glanced around the room and while the hair around her face still moved from the cool breeze, it appeared that the gust of air was circling her as everything else in the basement was completely undisturbed.
Maggie felt a gentle hand brush the hair out of her eyes. The only trouble was there was no one there. Maggie screamed.
Chapter 16
Everyone swiveled their heads in Maggie’s direction. Sam started forward and she would have leapt into his arms except she saw Andy staring at her with clear contempt from the doorway of the root cellar.
Instead, she held up her hand to Sam to stop. She was not going to let Andy think she was a wimp, and she definitely wasn’t going to admit to an otherworldly presence in the basement and have them all thinking she was a nutter.
“Sorry! I saw a snake,” she said. Then she pointed toward the far corner. “It went that way.”
In a move that locked Maggie’s affection forever, Deputy Curtis jumped up onto a cinder block and scanned the surrounding area with his high-powered flashlight.
“Snake!” he cried in an unusually high-pitched voice. “I hate snakes!”
The others looked away from Curtis, some trying to hide their laughter and others making no attempt at all.
Curtis did not care. He spoke into his shoulder radio in a bark, “Deputies Wilson and Rourke, one of you will come down to the basement and relieve me immediately.”
“Roger that,” Deputy Rourke’s voice answered.
Curtis looked at Sam. “I don’t do snakes.”
“Understood,” Sam said. He put his arm around Maggie and she could feel his shoulders shaking as he was trying not to laugh.
She felt bad for needlessly scaring Curtis but not bad enough to admit what had really spooked her. Sam’s warmth dispelled the chill that had crept under her skin and she was grateful.
“I think I’m going to be here awhile longer while they prep to move the body,” Sam said. “Why don’t you head home and I’ll call you later.”
“Sure,” Maggie agreed. “I’ll stop by your place and spend some quality time with Marshall Dillon.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re avoiding going home and spending time with your mother?” he asked.
“Me?” Maggie put her hand on her chest in a protestation of innocence.
Sam smiled and kissed her. “I know your game, Maggie Gerber. Avoidance will not make the moms back off. In fact, it will only make things worse.”
Maggie sighed. “I know. I promise I’ll go home right after I tuck in Marshall Dillon.”
Sam walked her out and Maggie felt a pang of regret that he was so preoccupied with excavating their houseguest. Yes, it had to be done. And, yes, they needed to know who the skeleton had once been, but she couldn’t help feeling that they were charting a course of action that was going to change everything.
* * *
Maggie was true to her word. She did go back to her house after taking care of Marshall Dillon. Of course, it was not her fault that he seemed to require an inordinate amount of attention and he really felt the need to watch a movie with her while they shared a tub of popcorn.
And, oh darn, by the time Maggie got home, her mother was already asleep and she snuck in the back door just as she had all those years ago when she and Sam had been out and they’d broken curfew. What Mom didn’t know then didn’t hurt her and the same thing was true now. Or so Maggie told herself.
She did not count on waking up to find her mother sitting on the end of her bed, sipping coffee and doing the crossword while she waited for Maggie to wake up.
“Finally, look who decided to rise and shine,” her mother said when Maggie blinked against the morning sun. Someone had opened her curtains. Oh, joy.
“I’m not rising or shining and you can’t make me,” Maggie said. Even to her own ears she sounded as if she were thirteen instead of in her early forties.
“Good thing I don’t care if you’re shining then,” her mother said. “But you will rise because we are going wedding dress shopping.”
Maggie opened her mouth to protest, but her mother held up her hand.
“No arguments. This loosey-goosey thing you’ve got going for a wedding stops today.”
Maggie didn’t argue, protest, or even snivel. She knew her mother’s “that’s final” tone of voice when she heard it and she knew there would be no finagling, negotiating or wiggling out of this one.
“I really can’t talk about this before co—” Maggie began to say but her mother pointed to her nightstand.
A fresh cup of coffee with a delicate puff of steam coming off the top in invitation sat waiting for her. She knew when she had
lost.
She pushed herself up to a seated position and reached for the mug. It read World’s Best Mom. Laura had given it to her when she was a kid and even though Maggie knew she was far from being the world’s best anything, it touched her that her daughter had given it to her.
The coffee was just the way she liked it, with a little bit of milk and enough sugar to balance the bitterness of the brew. She glanced at her mother to give her thanks but stopped when she saw how intently her mother was studying her face.
“What? Do I have a pimple?” Maggie asked.
Her mother barked an unexpected laugh. “No. I was just thinking.”
“Nothing good judging by your expression,” Maggie said. She was afraid her mother was about to confirm her words but figured it was best that they get it out in the open before they got any closer to the wedding.
“Actually, I was thinking just the opposite. You’ve dealt with so much and at such a young age. You worked so hard to take care of yourself and Laura and never wanted to lean on anyone. You and that little coupon pouch of yours, you’ve been through a lot.”
“Old Blue,” Maggie said with a smile. Yes, she had named her coupon holder. It was blue with mauve paisleys and she took it everywhere she went. She still did. In those early dark days, it had been a lifesaver.
Maggie wondered where this talk was going but she didn’t want to interrupt her mother so she sipped her coffee and waited.
“Do you love Sam?” her mother asked. “Really love him for all that he is and all that he isn’t?”
“Yes,” Maggie said without hesitation.
“You’re sure you’re not in love with a boy from twenty-plus years ago who no longer exists?”
“I’m positive,” Maggie said. “That boy grew up and so did the girl he loved.”
“And your hesitation to plan your wedding is because why?”
There it was. The million-dollar question that only her mother had been brave enough to ask so directly. Maggie didn’t have an answer.
“Is it because of Charlie?” her mother asked.
Maggie felt around in her insides. Was it Charlie that was holding her back? Did she have some loyalty to her late husband that kept her from being able to move forward with Sam?
“No,” she said.
“Then what is it that’s keeping you from picking flowers, a cake, a dress or a venue?”
Maggie blinked at her mother. “I don’t know.”
“You do want to get married, don’t you?”
“Yes, of that, I am sure, but . . .” Maggie stalled.
“But what?” Lizzie asked. “Come on, spill it.”
“I might be a little afraid of losing Sam like I lost Charlie,” Maggie said. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I just . . . I don’t know if I could go through that again.”
And just like that the dam burst and Maggie felt a sob burble up inside of her and tumble out of her mouth in one wrenching hiccup of stress.
“Oh, honey, I figured it was something like that.” Lizzie took both of their coffee cups and put them aside, then she opened her arms and let Maggie cry it out just like she had when Maggie was seven and knocked her front teeth out on the monkey bars in the park.
She rubbed Maggie’s back and made soothing noises and Maggie let herself be comforted. There was nothing like a mother’s love to ease away the fear.
“Would you give him up just to keep yourself from the possible pain of losing him?” her mother asked.
“No,” Maggie said. She pushed her hair back and met her mother’s understanding gaze. “I won’t give up what we have no matter what might happen.”
Lizzie reached out and put her hand over Maggie’s, giving it a tight squeeze. “Then that settles it. It’s time for you to jump all in, my girl. Now get up. We have dresses to try on.”
Maggie groaned and sank deeper into her pillows. She couldn’t make her get out of bed.
“I made cinnamon swirl coffee cake,” her mother called over her shoulder as she left the room. Darn it. Her mom knew she couldn’t resist her coffee cake.
* * *
“I look like I should be on Dancing with the Stars, the reject edition,” Maggie said.
She was wearing a slinky blue gown that hugged her curves and dipped low in the front and in back and had a slit up the side to her upper thigh.
“Sam will love it,” Joanne said.
“I love it,” Summer said. “If you don’t want it, can I have it?”
“Sure,” Maggie said. It still jarred her to have Summer in her shop, joining her mother and sister and the Good Buy Girls while she tried on dress after dress. Fifteen had been rejected so far.
“It’s all yours,” Maggie said.
Summer clapped her hands and looked delighted. Yeah, it was definitely weird having her here.
“So what’s the word on the skeleton in your house?” Ginger asked.
“Sam’s colleague from the Richmond PD is trying to identify him,” Maggie said. “As far as I know, there’s been no word yet on who he is—er, was—or how he came to be in our basement.”
“You’re not still going to live there, are you?” Sissy asked. “I would have the willies, knowing there had been a dead body in my house.”
“Don’t be silly.” Lizzie waved a dismissive hand. “Back in the day most people died at home in their own beds. Most of the houses in St. Stanley have had at least one dead body or more in them.”
“Oh, ick,” Summer said. “I’m telling Tyler we need to build a new home.”
“You might want to stop by the library and check the old microfilm,” Claire said. “The newspapers back in the day reported on a lot of the local goings-on, so you could probably find out quite a bit about the Dixons and their friends. If he was well known I bet someone wrote about him.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” Maggie said. “Can I come by after I close the shop tonight?”
“Yes. I’m working the evening shift, so I can help,” Claire said.
The bells on the door rang and Celeste Toovey entered the shop with her daughter.
Maggie made to go over and help them, but Joanne with baby Patience strapped to her front motioned for her to stay put.
“I got this,” she said.
“Really? Because I would be so happy to take a break—”
“Just two more dresses,” Lizzie interrupted. She pointed to the curtained-off area that acted as a dressing room. “Go.”
Maggie tried to flounce away but the dress was too long and it just made her look like a little girl playing dress up, having a fit. She pulled the curtain closed behind her and glared at the last two dresses.
Why was this so difficult? She hadn’t spent one-tenth of the time picking out her dress for her wedding to Charlie. Why was she having so much anxiety?
She stepped out of the slinky blue number with a sigh. Maybe she needed to see a therapist to get to the root of her dress dilemma. Could they do a quick fix on her in time for her to pick a dress and get married? She had a feeling that would be a no.
Maybe if she could just get one thing nailed down, like her dress or the flowers, then everything else would fall into place. It was clear that Sam figured if the two of them and the pastor were a go then they were all good. She supposed in the grand scheme of things he was right, but she knew she needed a little more pomp and circumstance to make it feel official. Plus, the mothers would never let her hear the end of it.
She pulled the sunflower-yellow dress over her head and prayed for a miracle. It came, but not in the yellow dress. Rather, it manifested in a surprise visit by Blue Dixon.
Chapter 17
Maggie heard the bells on the door jangle and she knew the Good Buy Girls would help whoever came in, but still it rankled that she was stuck here, trying on dresses when she should be manning her shop.
There were a few giggles and she wondered who it was that was charming the ladies. She even heard Summer’s unique cackle so she figured it had to be
a man. She moved the curtain aside to see if it was Sam. It was not.
Blue Dixon was holding court in her shop and he looked more than pleased to be in the midst of a flock of pretty-feathered ladies. Maggie wondered what had induced him to leave Spring Gardens and visit her. She knew they had talked about his checking out her suit collection but she really didn’t think he’d come around. Then again, maybe he’d had another altercation with Dennis Applebaum.
“Blue,” she said as she stepped out of the curtained area. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Afternoon, Maggie,” he said. His blue eyes twinkled at her as he gestured at the ladies seated around him. “It appears I timed my arrival well.”
She raised an eyebrow at him in what was supposed to be a quelling look but his grin only deepened.
“Your enchanting mother was just telling me that you are on a quest for a wedding dress,” he said.
Maggie lifted the flouncy skirt of her yellow dress and gave them all a twirl. She could tell by the appalled expressions on all of their faces that this one was a unanimous reject.
“You look like a pat of butter,” Summer said.
Maggie glared at her.
“What?” Summer asked. “Aren’t girlfriends supposed to be honest?”
“Tact is always appreciated, too,” Ginger said. “Besides she really looks more like a gob of mustard.”
Summer blinked at Ginger and then hooted with laughter.
“Really, I thought she looked more like an ear of corn,” Claire said.
This time they all laughed.
“Well, thank you all so very much,” Maggie said in a huff. She lifted her skirts and made to disappear into the dressing room when Blue Dixon stopped her.
“My dear, do not let your friends’ teasing bother you for you are a vision in whatever you choose to wear. With that mane of glorious red hair and those striking blue-green eyes, you’ll have your man tongue-tied and besotted with his first look at you.”
