Buried in Bargains

by Josie Belle

  He pulled back to gaze at her and, for once in her life, Maggie found she was speechless. As the band ended the song, Sam led her to one side of the room and right out the French doors onto the patio.

  The cold air felt good against her heated skin. She stepped out of Sam’s arms, but he held on to her hand and led her to a dark and unpopulated corner of the balcony.

  Maggie shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold. She felt as if this moment between her and Sam had been coming forever.

  “Here,” he said as he shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  “Thanks, but I’m not cold,” she said.

  “You’re shivering.” He shook his head, obviously not getting it.

  Maggie blew out a breath. How thick could the man be?

  “Sam, I—” she began, while he said, “Maggie, I—”

  “Oh, sorry, you go ahead,” she said.

  “No, ladies first,” he said.

  “All right,” she said.

  Maggie stared at the man in front of her. At various times in her life she’d wanted to back over him with her car, split a pizza together and go skinny-dipping with him. It was not hard to discern which of those three she felt like doing now, since his blue eyes gleamed at her and his very trim and muscular body was defined by the moonlight in high-def under his white dress shirt.

  “Sam, I—” she began again.

  “Oh, hell,” he said. “I can’t take this.”

  Maggie didn’t have a chance to catch her breath as Sam’s hands framed her face, holding her still while his mouth descended on hers in a kiss that was so hot it left scorch marks on everything around them.

  It took Maggie only a moment to realize that this was Sam’s way of telling her how he felt. Before he could pull away, she knew it was her turn to be clear, and she fisted his shirt in her hands and refused to let him go. She felt him go still for just a second while he processed the fact that she was kissing him back, and then his arms dropped to her hips and slid up her back to pull her closer.

  When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathing heavy and Sam’s jacket had dropped to the ground. Maggie rested her head on his shoulder, listening to his heart pound in time with her own.

  Sam’s hand slid up her back to play with the ends of her hair. “So . . .”

  Maggie leaned back and looked at his face. Had he always been this impossibly handsome?

  “So, I know we are trying to be friends, but I don’t want to be friends anymore,” she said.

  The look he gave her was intense, as if he was afraid there was an option that he hadn’t thought of and he didn’t want to get blasted.

  “Well, I don’t kiss my enemies like that,” he said.

  “Me neither,” Maggie said.

  “So that leaves . . .”

  “Dating,” she said. “I’m afraid if you’re going to kiss me like that, we’re just going to have to start dating.”

  Sam let out a whoop and spun her around, making Maggie laugh. Then he stopped and studied her with a look that made her insides knot up.

  “Really?” he asked.

  Maggie met his gaze and grinned. “Yes.”

  Sam pulled her close and planted another bone-melting kiss on her.

  “Good,” he said. “But Maggie, you have to be sure.”

  “I am,” she said. She did a quick check, and everything inside of her screamed that this was right. “I promise I am absolutely sure.”

  “Good,” he said. He kissed her quickly. “Because I’m older and wiser now, and I’m going to be a lot harder to scrape off this time.”

  “No scraping, I promise,” she said. “Can I ask you one thing?”

  He nodded.

  “A few weeks ago,” she began and then paused. She felt like an idiot, but she had to know. If there was someone else he was interested in, she needed to know now before she got in too deep. “Right after I got out of the hospital, Ginger saw you coming down the street with flowers. Who were they for?”

  “Ginger saw me, huh?” he asked.

  “Yep,” Maggie said. “In fact, we all did.”

  “They were for you,” he said. He looked embarrassed, and Maggie frowned.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, but on my way I ran into Pete Daniels, also with flowers for you,” he said, looking annoyed. “You and I had agreed to be friends, so I thought you had moved on with Pete, and I didn’t want to mess it up for you.”

  “Oh,” she said. She put a hand on the side of his face. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. Totally stupid, but really nice.”

  “Stupid?” he asked. Then his hand quickly found the tickle spot on her side, and he was merciless.

  Maggie yelped and giggled as his fingers teased her the same way he had he had over twenty years before.

  “Uncle!” Maggie cried. “Not stupid. More like wonderful, charming and gallant.”

  Sam immediately stopped tickling her and pulled her close. “Come dance with me.”

  Maggie glanced up at him and grinned. “We could do that, or we could stay out here by ourselves.”

  Sam placed a quick kiss on her mouth and stooped to retrieve his coat. “No, I can’t trust myself alone with you for much longer. Besides, I have been waiting for over twenty years to show you off as my girlfriend, and I will not be denied.”

  Maggie hadn’t thought it was possible to love Sam Collins more than she had when she was a teenager. She realized as he led her back into the ballroom and looked at her as if she was the only person who mattered that she had been wrong—so wrong.

  Chapter 9

  The night passed in a blur. Maggie gave Jake the keys to her car so he could take Sandy and Josh home early, as the family wanted to spend some time alone. Sam said he would take Maggie and Laura home when they were ready, but Laura was dancing with all of her old high school friends and Maggie, well, she was just happy to be with Sam.

  They seldom left the dance floor, and Maggie could hear people whispering as they danced on by. Sam didn’t care, and he seemed determined not to let her out of his sight. In fact, the only person he let cut in was Max Button.

  “So, you and Sam, huh?” Max asked as he spun Maggie around the floor.

  What Max lacked in coordination, he made up for in enthusiasm, and so long as Maggie kept her toes out of stomping range, they moved pretty smoothly.

  “Is it shocking?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “I think everyone in town figured it was just a matter of time. Well, everyone except Pete, but he seems to have moved on.”

  Maggie followed Max’s gaze to where Pete and Claire were dancing. Pete was telling jokes and Claire was laughing. They looked delighted with each other, and Maggie was relieved. She noticed Max’s frown, however, and remembered that he had carried a torch for the librarian since she’d found him trying to live in the library when he was a young teen.

  “Max, you can’t deny Claire the same happiness you’ve found with Bianca,” she said.

  “I don’t,” he said with a sigh. “It’s just that I’ll always feel protective of her. She saved my life when she found me in the library.”

  “Claire is an extraordinary woman,” Maggie agreed. “But I think Pete knows that, too.”

  Max glanced at the happy couple and back at Maggie. He gave her a small smile.

  “Yeah, Pete seems like a good guy, and I do want Claire to be happy, but you never get over your first crush.”

  Maggie scanned the ballroom until she found Sam leaning against the wall with Ginger’s husband Roger at his side. Roger was talking and Sam was nodding, but he had his attention trained on Maggie. When their gazes met, he gave her a wicked wink. Maggie felt her face grow hot, and she turned her attention back to Max before she tripped.

  “No, I don’t suppose you ever do,” she said.

  When the dance ended, Max stopped right in front of Sam and handed her over. Maggie glanced between the two of them and got
the feeling that this had been arranged. Before she could question it, Sam spun her back out onto the floor.

  Being in Sam’s arms made Maggie forget everything; her anxiety about her shop, hosting Christmas dinner, even the scene she’d witnessed between Michael Claramotta and Diane Jenkins. She did note that Michael spent the rest of the evening with Joanne. But even that barely registered, as she was completely engaged in being with Sam.

  After the band played its final song for the night, Sam took Maggie and Laura home. His personal vehicle was a roomy SUV, and he opened the passenger doors for Laura and Maggie before circling the car and getting into the driver’s seat.

  They left the mansion behind, waving to Bianca and Max as they went. When they reached the end of the driveway, Laura’s head popped up between Sam and Maggie.

  “So, Sam,” she said. “What are you plans for Christmas Eve?”

  “I’m on duty,” he said. “I figured my deputies could use the holiday off, so I took patrol duty, and Deputy Wilson is manning the station.”

  “But you’ll take a break for dinner, right?” she asked.

  Maggie turned her head to stare at her daughter. What was she up to?

  “Yes, we’re allowed to eat,” Sam said.

  “Great, then you have to stop by our house for dinner,” she said. “Five o’clock, okay?”

  Sam gave Maggie a sideways glance and she shrugged, and said, “We’ll have plenty of food.”

  He studied her for a second and then he smiled. “That’d be nice. Thank you.”

  Maggie felt her face grow warm at the thought of having Sam over for Christmas Eve dinner with her mother and sister in town. Her mother was one of the few people who knew that Sam had broken her heart. Was twenty years enough time for her mother to let it go? The thought was alarming.

  Laura sat back with a self-satisfied smile, and Maggie shook her head. At least she knew how Laura felt about Sam.

  As Sam pulled into the driveway, Laura sprang out of the car, calling, “Thanks, Sam!” over her shoulder. She keyed into the house before Sam even had Maggie’s door open.

  “Subtle, isn’t she?” Maggie asked.

  Sam took her hand and helped her down. As they walked up to her front door, he kept his hand on her lower back, just under her wrap. For a second, Maggie wished her house wasn’t quite so full. She would have liked to invite Sam in.

  At the door, she turned to face him. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Maggie,” he said. He sounded reluctant, and Maggie wondered if he was about to duck out of Christmas Eve dinner, and she couldn’t blame him, although she would be disappointed.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “About Laura’s invitation,” he said.

  “You don’t have to come,” she said. “I know that the holidays are a time for family, and—”

  “Oh, I want to come,” he interrupted. “But I can see where Laura, who I really like by the way, maneuvered you into inviting me.”

  “And I am really glad she did,” Maggie said.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. She wrapped her arms around Sam’s neck. “Since you have to work, please come have dinner with my crazy family. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

  At that, Sam’s eyebrows lifted, and he asked, “Oh, really?”

  Maggie laughed. “I meant with ham, but there’s room for negotiation.”

  “And I do love negotiating with you,” Sam said. And then he kissed her.

  Maggie’s last thought as she waved good-bye to him through the front window and toddled off to bed was that she had to get to More than Meats first thing in the morning and order a bigger ham.

  • • •

  Dancing the night away had left Maggie bone-weary but heart-light. She and Laura cranked the holiday tunes as they reworked their displays for the crush of last-minute holiday shoppers that they were hoping for. Of course, with the majority of Bianca’s gowns having been sold for the ball, Maggie knew she could get through the holiday without selling another thing and she’d be fine. It was a good feeling.

  Maggie left Laura to tend the shop while she hurried over to More than Meats to revise her ham order. She tried to imagine what her mother and sister would say when they arrived to find not just Jake but Sam, too, at the dinner table. They had been male-light for several years, so this was going to be an adjustment.

  When Maggie arrived at the deli, she was surprised to find that it was still dark and locked. The closed sign hung in the window, and she got a sick feeling in her stomach. Michael never missed a day at work, ever. What if something was wrong with Joanne and the baby?

  She hurriedly fished her phone out of her purse and called Joanne. It rang three times before Joanne’s chipper voice answered.

  “Maggie, I’ve been dying to call you and ask about Sam.” Joanne started right in. “So, what happened?”

  “Um.” Maggie was so surprised that Joanne had answered that she couldn’t get her thoughts to process the question. “Joanne, is Michael with you?”

  “No, I’m just leaving the hardware store,” she said. “They are having a paint sale, so I picked a nice gender-neutral green to paint the nursery. Green stimulates brain activity, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Maggie said.

  She hesitated. Should she say anything about the shop being closed? She glanced back at the dark windows and the locked door. This felt wrong. She had to tell Joanne.

  “Maggie, are you there?” Joanne asked. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

  “Joanne, I’m standing in front of the deli, and it’s closed and locked. Is Michael away today?”

  “What? No, he went into work early as usual,” Joanne said. “Are the lights on? Maybe he just forgot to unlock the front door.”

  “No, no lights are on,” Maggie said.

  “Well, that’s weird. Wait for me,” Joanne said. “I’ll be there in five.”

  She was there in three. Her SUV stopped at the curb with a lurch, and she bolted out of the driver’s side door. Her eyes were wide with worry as she strode toward Maggie.

  “No sign of him?”

  “None.” Maggie shook her head.

  Joanne tried the front door as if she just had to check. Maggie understood. She would have done the same.

  “Maybe he’s in the office in back,” Joanne said. “Maybe he just forgot to open.”

  The two women hurried around the building. Maggie couldn’t shake the bad feeling she had about this. What if they walked in on Michael and Diane? No, she pushed the thought aside. Despite what she had seen at the ball, she didn’t believe that Michael would cheat on Joanne—not now, not ever.

  The alley was made up of tall red-brick buildings. Dumpsters were scattered behind the backs of the buildings, and even in the chilly weather the cement gave off a whiff of decaying garbage.

  Joanne tried the back door. It was unlocked. She gave Maggie a worried look.

  “Michael always keeps the back door locked,” she said.

  Joanne turned the knob and pulled the door open. She stepped into the large storeroom at the back of the shop. This was where deliveries were dropped off. Several walk-in freezers and refrigerators filled this space, which led to the kitchen where the specialty items for the deli were made.

  “Michael?” Joanne called. “Are you here?”

  There was no answer. As they walked into the kitchen, Joanne went rigid and shrieked, causing Maggie to jump.

  “Michael!” Joanne cried, and she dropped to her knees on the floor where her husband lay, his head in a pool of blood.

  “Don’t move him,” Maggie ordered as she dropped down beside her friend. She reached for his wrist and checked his pulse. It was faint but still there. She fumbled with her phone. She called the first person who came to mind.

  “Hello,” Dr. Franklin answered on the first ring.

  “Doc, I’m at More than Meats,” Maggie said. “Joanne and I just got here and we found Michael
on the kitchen floor. He’s unconscious and his head is resting in a pool of blood. Can you come?”

  “Don’t move him,” Doc ordered. “I’m at the office and can be there in a few minutes. I’ll have Cheryl call for an ambulance.”

  Maggie ended the call. Joanne was sobbing softly beside her. She was holding her husband’s hand and talking to him.

  “I’m here, Michael,” she said. “Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of you.”

  Maggie felt her throat get tight. She put her arm around her friend and said, “Don’t worry. Head gashes cause a lot of blood loss but usually they’re more messy than dangerous.” Maggie didn’t mention that head injuries could be very serious. She wanted to buoy her friend not sink her.

  Joanne glanced around the room. “What could have . . . I mean . . . do you think he tripped and cracked his head?”

  “I don’t know,” Maggie said. She glanced at the floor to see if there was a puddle of water, a grease stain, a stray ice cube or anything else that would have caused him to slip. There was nothing. The linoleum looked perfectly clean, which was not surprising, as Michael kept a scrupulously tidy kitchen.

  Maggie’s eyes moved away from Michael’s feet and across the floor. She saw the string of an apron on the ground, and she craned her neck to see if that was what he had tripped on. She couldn’t quite see around the large work island, so she leaned forward. A mop of blonde hair was on the floor.

  She jumped to her feet and hurried around the workstation. Every instinct inside of her told her that this was going to be bad, but she forced herself to continue forward.

  “Maggie, what is it?” Joanne cried.

  Maggie couldn’t speak. A small whimper came out of her mouth as she knelt down and saw the ties of a white butcher’s apron were tied tightly, way too tightly, around Diane Jenkins’s throat.

  She loosened the ties where they dug into the skin and pressed her fingers just under Diane’s ear. Her skin was cold to the touch, her face was a mottled red color and her body was stiff and unresponsive.

  Maggie placed her hand on the young woman’s chest. It didn’t rise and fall. She moved her hand in front of Diane’s mouth, but no breath was emitted. She felt no heartbeat, and Diane’s eyes were closed as if she’d just decided to take a nap on the kitchen floor, but she hadn’t.