Murder in Maine (Margot Durand Cozy Mystery Book 7)

by Danielle Collins

  “Oh, I know who you are,” she said, accepting the supplies Doc had given Margot.

  “You do?”

  “Of course,” she said, her smile genuine. “Hector raves about your amazing French pastry shop in Virginia. I have half a mind to plan a trip already.” She blushed and dropped her gaze to Margot’s hands. “This is a shame. I’m sure you’re beside yourself with not being able to bake.”

  Among other things, Margot thought. Like the fact that she hadn’t caught the license plate of the SUV nor had she seen the driver. Now that her mind was clearing of the foggy state it had been in after the incident, she was ready to get to the bottom of this mess.

  “Maybe I can teach a few things to Hector’s staff,” she said, proud of herself for finally getting his name right. “I do like to instruct.”

  “That would be so great!” Shelly said, her enthusiasm evident. “I may want to be a nurse, but I’m counting on these baking skills to land me a man.” She let out a light laugh and shook her head. “Just kidding—mostly.” With a wink, she turned back to the bandages.

  Margot thought back to Adam, his handsome face filling her mind’s eye easily. She knew she should call him and explain what happened. He would want to hear it from her that she was all right, but—

  Then a thought struck her. He couldn't come up there to help, but was it possible he could look into things from down there? Or would his lines of communication be monitored?

  The young girl finished bandaging up Margot’s hand and turned her sweet smile on Margot. “There you go.”

  “Thank you so much, Shelly. I don’t know what I would have done.”

  “I'm happy to help. Your left hand seems to have gotten the worst of it. I think your right will heal up a little faster and then you can use one hand to bandage the other. Until then, come find me whenever I’m working. I’m more than happy to bandage you up. It’s good practice.”

  Margot grinned. “That makes me feel better about taking up your time.”

  “Please don’t worry about it,” she said with a wink. Then she turned back to the kitchen to wash up and get back to her pastry duties.

  Margot’s eyes narrowed as Dexter came toward her. “What is it? You’ve got that look.”

  “Can I contact Adam on your computer? I’m assuming it’s…secure.” She whispered the last part.

  His brow furrowed and he looked down at her hands. “Can you type?”

  “I’ll hen-peck,” she said with a smile.

  “All right,” he said, “follow me.”

  After telling his workers he’d be back, they went upstairs and he logged her into his computer and set up a secure email

  “Thanks, Dexter.”

  He stopped to look at her. “Isn’t there something that I could do so that you don’t have to bother Adam?”

  She’d thought this through and figured that anything she asked Dexter to do could either get him in trouble or draw attention to them. “No. This will give Adam something to do as well. Trust me, it’s a good idea.”

  He nodded and left her alone to compile her email with her two-fingered typing. It was tedious, but when she finally sent the email, after two read-throughs for spell checking and errors, she was happy with involving Adam.

  Leaning back in the desk chair, she contemplated the near hit and run one last time. She’d been sure she’d seen a vehicle following her. If that were the case, then the person knew she was coming from the bakery and…what? Thought she was a threat? But why? All she’d done was find the dead body in the bakery and then ask Doc a few questions. But no…she’d asked the questions after the accident. But she had talked to his assistant first.

  Without any real evidence, she had nothing to go off of. No leg to stand on, or hands to use, in her case. She’d have to wait and see what Adam could dredge up from the FBI files and hope that his searching wasn’t questioned.

  Chapter 7

  After sending the email to Adam, Margot leaned back in Dexter’s desk chair and stared down at the street below. From her vantage point, she could see several blocks behind her and several in front. Then, if she leaned back slightly, she could see down an alleyway. It was empty, but had anyone been standing there, she would have seen them.

  Biting her lip, she thought again about how she had a gut feeling Peter knew more than he let on. Waiting for Adam to get back to her would be excruciating, but she didn’t want to involve Dexter. At least not yet.

  Then, thinking of Dexter, she considered his sister. Where had she gone? The tire tracks seemed to indicate that someone else had followed her there, perhaps picked up her, and then what? Come back for Danielle’s car? What happened to that?

  A shadow reflected back against the glass of the storefront across the street and Margot thought back to the car following her and the fact that someone had known to follow her. Perhaps they were watching her now.

  A chill raced up her spine and her gaze traced to the windows of the adjacent building. They appeared empty, but could she really see if someone didn’t want to be seen? But why her? She wasn’t a threat. She’d simply come across the body and—

  Once again she thought back to the receptionist. It was either her or the doctor who were the weak links in this chain. Then again, Peter knew she’d found the body as well. Had it merely been a coincidence that he’d come out to see her almost run down? Then why would he volunteer the license plate information? No, she felt that something was off about him, but she didn’t think he would purposefully put her in harm’s way.

  So then who would? Danika, the doctor’s assistant?

  Margot looked at her bandaged hands and thought back to her conversation with the assistant on the phone. It had been a relatively quick conversation but it had been clear the assistant had thought Margot’s questions were invasive. Still, that didn’t mean she’d try and have her run down. Would she? She’d seemed kind of nice, if not a little gruff. Had it been an act?

  Maybe it was time for a visit to meet Miss Danika in person.

  Gathering a few items to take with her, Margot took a deep breath as she went down the stairs and made her way toward the door. She heard Dexter in the kitchen instructing one of his workers on how to properly fill an éclair and she had to keep from laughing. She’d given the same speech to him when he’d first started working for her. It was good to know he had learned something from her, she thought wryly.

  Thinking of Dexter then made her think of her own bakery. She’d texted back and forth with Julia and things seemed to be going well, but she would need to call her that night just to double-check. If this went on longer than she’d planned, she would have to be sure that Julia could handle running the shop on her own. It wasn't as if she didn’t have her son Nick to watch after. Thankfully, her parents were great at watching the five-year-old and seemed to enjoy it.

  Margot sent a nervous glance back over her shoulder to where Dexter was just around the corner. She should tell him where she was going, maybe even have him drive her, but she needed to talk to Danika without it seeming like a big deal. Besides, she would be even more careful this time. The SUV wouldn’t get the best of her, though she doubted they would try something again so close after the last attempt at running her down.

  The warm sunshine contrasted with the chill in the air and Margot was glad she’d brought a light coat with her. The walk to Doc’s wouldn’t take her long, but it was enough to have her clutching the neck of her jacket closed and wishing she’d bought a scarf. Maybe she’d stop and purchase one at one of the shops on her way back. It would also give her an excuse for leaving, though she would tell Dexter the truth, of course. She’d have to look as if she were going to Doc’s for a reason.

  The pain in her palms and the lack of enough gauze would do for a reason, and then stopping for a scarf would tell anyone who might notice, or care, that she was just another tourist visiting her friend in Maine. At least she hoped so.

  Rather than sticking to the larger streets that would
make it easy for someone to follow her, she wove in and out of side streets, following her GPS map to know which streets to take. Soon she came out into the open from a narrow alley directly across the street from Doc’s office. It didn’t look busy and she checked the time. Nearly lunchtime, which was exactly when she’d hoped to arrive.

  Even as she stepped from the mouth of the alley, she saw Doc leave by the front door and get into an old, beat-up pickup truck and pull away. Perfect! Now she just had to hope that Danika was still there. It was likely, knowing that someone had to watch after the office. Didn’t they?

  But then another car pulled up and, out of instinct, Margot stepped back into the cover of the alley to watch. It was a wiry man who looked to be in his early thirties. He jumped out of the grungy truck, leaving the motor still running, and ran up the steps with what looked like a manila envelope in his hand. Then, moments later, he came back out, hopped in the truck, and drove off.

  That was odd.

  Checking up and down the street multiple times, Margot crossed quickly and stepped into the office without knocking. The waiting area was small, barely holding a few worn chairs and a small desk where Danika sat now, peering into the envelope with a grin on her face.

  When Margot came in, she slammed the envelope down and turned wide, surprised eyes on Margot. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

  Not exactly the welcome Margot had expected.

  “I was wondering if I could get a few more bandages from Doc and maybe more of that mediated ointment? My hands hurt pretty badly.”

  Was it Margot’s imagination or had a look of regret flashed across the woman’s soft features before it was replaced with a business-like attitude? “Doc is gone to lunch. You’ll have to come back.”

  “You can’t get some gauze for me?” She wanted to remind the woman she was a nurse, but she bit her tongue. She needed to play nice.

  “Well…” Her gaze snapped to the envelope and then back to Margot. “I suppose. I can’t give you any medication, though. Doc keeps tight reigns on that stuff.”

  “That’s fine. The gauze is what I really need.”

  “All right. Wait right here.” She slipped the envelope into the top drawer of her desk and headed to the back room.

  The minute the woman was gone, Margot leaned over the desk, edged the drawer out, and peeked into the envelope. She knew she was being nosy, but she had a feeling what was inside the envelope somehow related to what was going on. Her eyes bulged at the sight of a few stacks of twenty-dollar bills.

  Had Danika been paid off for something? Possibly information about where Margot was going to be? Or the fact that she had asked too many questions regarding the man who had died?

  The sound of the woman’s heels clicking on the tiled floor forced her to slip the envelope back into the drawer and close it, leaning back just as Danika walked in.

  “Here you go,” she said, looking suspiciously at Margot.

  “Thanks so much,” she said, flashing what she hoped was a genuine smile at the woman. “How long have you worked here?”

  “Five years,” she said, smacking her gum and taking her seat. Her hand rested on the desk above the spot where the envelope would be in the drawer. “Why?”

  “Just curious. Bath seems like a nice town.”

  “I guess.” She crossed her legs and leaned back. “You from the big city?”

  Was she pumping Margot for information she could sell? “You could say that.”

  “Then you probably hate it here,” Danika laughed. “So quiet and all.”

  “Not as quiet as I’d like,” she said, holding up her hands, palms out toward the woman.

  Danika grimaced. “True.”

  “Did you find out anything more about the man who died in my friend’s bakery?”

  “Nah,” she said, shaking her head and looking out the window as if someone could be watching them. “Just a drifter. Homeless, you know.”

  Strange how everyone seemed to assume that, even though elements of the man’s appearance didn’t line up. Margot was about to ask another question when her phone rang. She tugged it out of her pants pocket to see that Adam was calling.

  “Sorry, I’ve got to take this. Thanks for the bandages.”

  “Yeah. No problem.”

  Margot stepped outside just as the phone rang for the fourth time. “Hello?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Why?”

  “Because Dex called me and has no idea where you are.”

  Margot’s stomach clenched. She hadn’t gotten a call from him, had she? “Did he try calling me? I don’t have a missed call.”

  “I don't know, I had called him and he realized he didn’t know where you were. You need to get back to the bakery. And when you do, have him get you on a secure video call. We need to talk.”

  Margot licked her lips as she crossed the street, being sure to look both ways several times. “Okay,” she said, looking back at the doctor’s office one last time. Danika stood in the window watching her. “I’ll call you soon.”

  “And, Margot?”

  “Yes?” she said, feeling the woman’s eyes on her back as she walked back down the alley.

  “Be careful.”

  Chapter 8

  Dexter was pacing in her room when she came up the stairs. “Seriously, do you like to scare me? I thought Adam was going to jump through the phone at me.”

  She frowned, letting out a sigh. “No, of course not, but I am an adult and I can make my own decisions—neither you or Adam are responsible for them.” She softened her words with a smile but she could tell he was worried.

  “I saw you leave. I thought surely you wouldn’t be foolish enough to go far…apparently, I was wrong. Why did you go to Doc’s?”

  “Did you track me?”

  He looked sheepishly at her. “Maybe.”

  She narrowed her gaze.

  “Okay, I did. But only because Adam said I could.”

  “Why didn’t you try calling me?”

  “It was easier to track your phone.”

  She rolled her eyes and tried to cross her arms before she realized it would tug at her bandages. “Then you told Adam I was gone.”

  “Guilty.”

  Margot let out a sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was leaving but I promise I was extremely careful and didn’t put myself in any dangerous situations.”

  He studied her for a moment then nodded. “I should have called. I’m sorry.”

  The hard line of her mouth softened into a smile. “It’s all right. I’m going to assume it’s because you care.”

  “It definitely is,” he said with a grin. “You’re like my big sister.”

  At the mention of his sister, she remembered Adam’s request. “Oh! We need to video call Adam. Can you set up a secure channel?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  They went to Dexter’s room and he set to work clicking keys and muttering to himself. A few minutes later, she heard Adam’s deep baritone. “Where’s Margot?”

  “Chill, man,” Dexter said with a smile. “She’s here.”

  Margot came to stand behind Dexter and then took his chair as he rose. “Thanks,” she said, making sure Dexter knew she was grateful for all he’d done, even if they’d had a slight bit of a tiff not a few moments ago. Sometimes she really did feel like he was her younger brother.

  “I’ll leave you guys to talk. If you need me, I’ll be downstairs.”

  She nodded and, when he left, she turned her attention back to the screen. Adam’s handsome face filled most of it, but the parts she could see clued her in to the fact that he was home.

  “You’re home early.”

  He nodded, leaning out of the screen and talking to his dog, Clint Eastwood. When he came back into the frame, he had a goofy grin on his face. “It’s good to see you.” Then he grew serious. “Please don’t leave again without telling Dex where you’re going.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I'm not a child
, you know.”

  “I know, but I worry about you up there without a strong, handsome man around to protect you.”

  “You mean, like you?” she went along with his teasing.

  “Exactly. Want me to come up there?”

  “No,” she said, her smile widening at the fact he’d offer—yet again. “But I’d like to know what you found out.”

  His expression darkened. “It’s nothing good.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He pulled a few sheets of paper from a file and began to read off from there. “One Peter Graham, thirty-five, comes from a background in law enforcement. His father was a Marine who joined the local PD in Maryland. Looks like Peter followed his father’s footsteps but on an accelerated course. He was with the FBI up until two years ago.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” Adam met her gaze. “And then he abruptly moved to Maine and joined the force up there as a detective.”

  Margot’s brow furrowed. Something about the timeline seemed familiar to her. “Two years ago…” she repeated.

  “Right around the time Danielle moved to Maine.”

  That was it. Danielle! “You think he knew her?”

  “No. I think he knows her and I have a bigger suspicion that he met her while working for the FBI.”

  “What are you saying?” Margot asked, her brow furrowing.

  “I can’t be sure. I mean, I couldn’t find exact records on it, but I have a suspicion that they met while he was working with the task force focused on taking out The Queen gang in Atlantic City.”

  Margot blinked. “But then he left and moved up here.”

  “To be with her. At least, that’s my suspicion.”

  Margot wondered if Dexter knew anything about this. Wouldn’t his sister have said something? Then again, maybe not. Dexter had been down in North Bank for a while and his sister would have had free access to be with whoever she wanted. Was it possible that Peter had helped with her disappearance? Or was there something more sinister at work?

  “Do you have any more information on him?”

  Adam smiled, looking up to meet her gaze. “You mean like where he lives? And the fact that he also owns a cabin ten miles outside of town that is under his brother-in-law’s name?”