Buried in Bargains

by Josie Belle

  “But how could she have a restraining order against him if she was working for him? And if this Leann person isn’t Diane, then why did she have one against Michael?”

  Maggie was loading up for more scattershot questions when Sam cut her off.

  “Breathe, Maggie, breathe,” he said. “We’ll get it sorted. I promise.”

  “Are you going to see Michael?”

  “In about an hour.”

  “Can I meet you there?” she asked. “Joanne might need the support.”

  “That’d be good,” he said. “Maggie, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too,” she said. “But I have to believe that this is just some kind of crazy coincidence. It’s unthinkable otherwise.”

  Sam was silent, and she knew his years in law enforcement had given him glimpses into situations that were even crazier than this one, although she had a hard time imagining it.

  “See you in an hour,” he said.

  “All right,” she said.

  She ended the call and hurried to her room to get dressed. She had to believe that this was all just some sort of insane misunderstanding, but deep down Maggie had never believed in coincidences.

  • • •

  When she saw Sam arrive at the hospital just minutes after she did, it took all of her self-control not to pepper him with more questions.

  She and Joanne were seated in the waiting room, as the nurse had just sent Joanne out of Michael’s room while they did some more tests. According to Joanne, Michael hadn’t woken up yet, so she had no idea if he had miraculously regained his memory during the night or not.

  Maggie knew that, with the new information he had, Sam wasn’t going to be able to keep the truth from Michael any longer.

  “Hi, Sam,” she said.

  “Hi, Maggie.” His eyes rested on her briefly, and then he turned to Joanne. “How are you, Joanne?”

  She didn’t bother to answer but instead gave him a fretful look, and asked, “We’re going to have to tell him today, aren’t we?”

  “I’m afraid so,” he said. “New information is coming in, and I can’t hold off any longer. I’ll check with his doctor first, of course, but yes, I am going to have to question him about the attack.”

  Joanne closed her eyes for a moment as if bracing herself for what was to come.

  “All right,” she said. “Can I be there? In case he needs me?”

  Sam considered her for a moment. “All right.”

  Maggie shot him a worried look. Would he tell her about the restraining order? She supposed he had to, but she was worried for her friend. She didn’t see that going well no matter how he explained it.

  The doors to the ICU opened and Dr. Graber entered the room. Sam went to talk to him and, after a moment, the doctor waved Joanne over to join them. Not knowing if she was allowed in on the conversation, Maggie waited a few feet away, wondering what the doctor’s verdict would be.

  After what seemed like a long time, the doctor nodded, and he and Sam shook hands. The doctor disappeared back into the ICU, and Sam leaned down and spoke softly to Joanne. Maggie wondered if he was telling her about the restraining order. Given that Joanne was nodding and looking very calm, Maggie assumed that he wasn’t.

  “Mrs. Claramotta,” the nurse called from the open door. “You can come back in now.”

  Not wanting to be left out, Maggie moved to join them, and the three of them walked toward the door. The nurse frowned, but Sam said, “It’s official police business. I need these two ladies with me.”

  She gave him a quick nod, and Maggie thought it must be nice to get your way just by saying official police business.

  When they entered the room, Michael was propped up in bed, looking better than he had the night before but still drained and a bit pasty. Joanne hurried across the room and took his hand.

  He must have sensed something, because he glanced at her and then at Sam. “Why am I here? What happened?”

  “Everything is fine,” Joanne said. Things were so obviously not fine that even a complete stranger could have guessed she was lying. “Sam just needs to talk to you.”

  “Oh, all right,” Michael said. He seemed to relax a bit. “What can I do for you?”

  “Have any memories of how you hit your head come back yet?” Sam asked.

  “No, the last thing I remember is being at the Madison ball,” Michael said, and gave a slow shake of his head.

  Sam heaved a sigh. “Michael, I have some bad news.”

  Michael leaned up and immediately looked at Joanne and then at her rounded belly. Seeing his fear, she patted his hand, and said, “No, it’s not me. The baby and I are fine.”

  He sank back down into his pillows with relief. Maggie guessed that, in his mind, so long as Joanne and the baby were okay, nothing else mattered.

  “Your employee Diane Jenkins is dead,” Sam said.

  “What? How?” Michael asked. His forehead wrinkled with concern, and he glanced at Joanne as if needing her to confirm what Sam had said.

  “It’s true.” Joanne gave him a sad nod, and he put his hand over his eyes as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  “How?” he repeated.

  Sam was watching him closely as if cataloging his every move. Maggie wondered if he was trying to see if Michael was lying. She could have told him not to bother. She knew Michael, and the shock and bewilderment on his face were genuine.

  “She was strangled,” Sam said.

  The air came out of Michael in a shocked whoosh, and Joanne stood and put her arm around him.

  “No!” he said and shook his head. “No, it can’t be.”

  “I’m sorry, Michael, it’s true,” Joanne said. “We found you—” Her voice cracked, as if the weight of the bad news were too much for it. She cleared her throat and continued. “Maggie and I came into the back of the shop, and you were lying on the floor in a pool of blood and Diane was just a few feet away from you, strangled with her apron strings.”

  “Is that . . . ?” Michael’s voice was a whisper, and he reached up to feel the bandages on his head.

  “Yes, we think that’s how you cracked your head,” Joanne said. “I didn’t want to tell you all of this until you were stronger.”

  “Oh god, Diane,” Michael’s voice was a croak, and his eyes looked watery. Sam watched him, and Maggie felt her heart lurch at the guilt on Michael’s face. “I tried to warn her, but she wouldn’t listen.”

  “Listen to what?” Joanne asked. “What are you saying, Michael?”

  Maggie glanced at Joanne’s face and saw the devastation and betrayal creep across her features even while she clung to her husband’s hand, obviously hoping that this was all just some sort of mistake.

  Michael turned to look at Sam. “It was him, wasn’t it?”

  “Him who?” Sam asked evenly.

  “The man who was stalking her,” Michael said. “I told her that she couldn’t just hide, that she had to go to the police, especially when those pictures showed up. We had a terrible fight about it. Oh god, poor Diane.”

  “Who was stalking her, Michael?” Sam asked. His voice was tight and Maggie knew that Michael’s answer was critical.

  “I don’t know,” Michael said.

  “Really?” Sam asked. His face was hard. “Because she took a restraining order out on you.”

  Chapter 21

  “What?” Michael lurched forward and then winced. He fell back against his pillows. “That’s ridiculous. I was helping her.”

  “Michael, what is going on?” Joanne asked. Her voice was high and frightened, and she let go of his hand and wrapped her arms protectively about her middle.

  “Oh, hon, I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want you to worry,” he said. “Diane is a friend of Brody Schuster. Remember, he and I used to work at Decusati’s Deli back in the neighborhood.”

  “Brody? Didn’t he move to Rhode Island to open a deli there?” she asked.

  “Yes, and Diane
—her real name is Leann something—is . . . was one of his employees. Well, some crazy guy started to stalk her. He would take pictures of her and then send them to her, so Brody asked me if she could come down here and work for me for a while. We made up a new name for her and I paid her in cash, so there was no paper trail.”

  Michael paused and gave Sam a defiant look. “I know that’s not legal, but I don’t care. We were trying to keep her safe.”

  “I’m not the IRS,” Sam said. “You can take that up with your accountant. Who was the guy? What was his name?”

  “Diane, er, Leann didn’t know,” Michael said. “But it was getting dangerous for her. Brody told me that one night someone followed her home from work. He ran her off the road, but a tow truck happened by, and the person sped off. The driver of the tow truck got the license plate, but it turned out the car had just been reported stolen. That’s when Brody called me to see if I could hide Diane for a while.”

  The room was silent for a moment, and Maggie glanced at Joanne to see how she was taking this. Her lips were clamped tight, and she was shaking.

  “Are you all right, Joanne?” Michael asked.

  “You should have told me,” she said.

  Michael gave her an imploring glance. “I’m sorry. I would have. I’ve never kept a secret from you, but I didn’t want to alarm you and risk the baby.”

  Joanne nodded, but Maggie could see that she was struggling when she didn’t take Michael’s hand again. In fact, she put about a foot of space between them. Michael looked crestfallen, and Maggie could tell that he felt Joanne’s ire too.

  “Why didn’t she file a report with me?” Sam asked. “We could have given her added protection.”

  “We argued about it. The day of the Madison ball, we found a bunch of pictures shoved into the delivery van, and we knew he’d found her.”

  Michael stared out the window remembering. He looked back and sighed.

  “She freaked out, and I told her she had to tell the police, but she was afraid,” he said. “She didn’t know who he was or why he was fixated on her, and her biggest fear was that he was a person of power and the police would believe him over her.”

  “That makes no sense,” Maggie said, “since whoever was stalking her obviously followed her from Rhode Island. Why would she think he had any power here?”

  “Probably, because he found her,” he said.

  “I’m going to need to talk to your friend, Brody,” Sam said.

  Michael nodded, and then he frowned. “I don’t understand the restraining order. How could there be one against me in a place I’ve never been?”

  “We’ll have to check into it,” Sam said. “I don’t like it, but maybe it will give us the lead we need to catch this guy.”

  “Are you sure it’s a guy?” Maggie asked. “Did Diane—or rather, Leann—know for a fact that it was a guy?”

  Michael shook his head. “No, the local police checked out all of her old boyfriends, but they were all cleared. She doesn’t do social networks, so it wasn’t anyone online. The only contact she had with the person were the pictures of her that he sent. And he photographed her everywhere: at her job, at the gym, in her apartment. It was creepy.”

  “Michael, do you have any memory of what happened in the deli?” Sam asked. His voice was low, and Maggie could tell he was trying to sound casual, but there was nothing casual in the intensity of his stare.

  Michael studied the ceiling, and Maggie could feel him trying to piece it together, trying to grab at any scrap of memory that could be lodged in his head. He punched the mattress by his hip in frustration.

  “I’ve got nothing,” he said. “The last thing I remember was hearing a noise in the kitchen and leaving my office to go and check it out. Oh god, I feel like I failed her. She was supposed to be safe here in St. Stanley.”

  His anguish made Maggie’s heart hurt, and Joanne must have felt it, too, because she took his hand again and squeezed it tight.

  “You did your best,” she said.

  “Did I?” Michael asked. He glanced at each of them in turn, and Maggie knew the guilt was skewering him on the inside.

  “You couldn’t force her to go to the police,” Maggie said.

  “She’s right,” Joanne agreed.

  They all looked at Sam for confirmation. He was quiet, and then his gaze met Michael’s, and he said, “I’ve tried to help a lot of people over the years, and the one thing I know is, if they don’t want the help, you can’t force it on them.”

  “Does her family know?” Michael asked.

  “Her only living relative is an aunt in Westerly, Rhode Island,” Sam said. “They’re going to talk to her today.”

  The nurse bustled in, and they all went silent.

  “I’m sorry, I’m going to need you all to wait outside while we dress his head wound,” she said.

  Joanne patted Michael’s hand. “I’ll be right back.”

  He nodded. His face was set in hard lines, and he looked as if the weight of world was sitting squarely on his shoulders.

  In all the years Maggie had known him, she’d never seen Michael look defeated. He was the sort of guy who, if life handed him lemons, he would shrug and be happy because, hey, free lemons. But now, now he just looked lost, as if everything he’d ever believed about life had proven to be a lie.

  The three of them entered the waiting room to find Claire and Ginger there. They quickly enfolded Joanne in hugs, and the three of them took seats in the corner so Joanne could catch them up on all that had happened.

  “What happens now?” Maggie asked as she and Sam moved a few feet away from the others.

  “I post a guard by Michael’s door,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve been having my deputies do extra rounds in and around the hospital, but now I think I’m going to post someone at all times in the ICU.”

  “Because you think Michael’s guilty?” Maggie asked. Her outrage made her voice sharp.

  “No,” Sam said. “Because I think the killer will be worried that Michael remembers more than he does, and Michael could be a possible target.”

  “Oh,” Maggie said. She hung her head. “I look like a big jerk right now, don’t I?”

  “Little bit,” Sam agreed. When her head snapped up, he smiled. “But I like that you defend your friends so fiercely. It’s a very attractive quality.”

  Maggie smiled at him. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said. He leaned forward and kissed her. It was swift and sweet, and when he stepped back he studied her closely. “Promise me that you will not do any more investigating of any kind on this case. We just crossed over into some seriously scary territory.”

  Maggie opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

  “No, I’m serious, Maggie,” he said. “This is a real psychopath we’re dealing with, and I don’t want you in harm’s way. Promise me.”

  “Are you done now?” she asked. “Because I was about to swear that I would steer clear when I was so rudely interrupted.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “I worry.”

  “Me, too,” she said. “So, please, be careful.”

  Her voice was soft, betraying how truly frightened she was. She couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to Sam. She hugged him close, wanting to imprint the feel of him against her.

  “I will,” he said, and he hugged back.

  But Maggie knew that life didn’t work around the promises you made to each other, but rather, it happened and you worked around it, trying to keep those promises intact even when the odds were against you.

  • • •

  At the insistence of the other GBGs and Michael, Joanne went home to take a nap. The bags under her eyes were big enough to pack for a week in Hawaii, and she looked like she was about to drop where she stood. Ginger took her home to tuck her in and make sure she stayed there.

  Maggie knew she had left Laura to run the shop much more than she should have, so she spent the afternoon in the s
tore, catching Laura up on what was happening.

  “But St. Stanley is so small,” Laura said. “Surely, we’d notice if there was a psychotic killer from another state here.”

  “You’d think,” Maggie said. “But it’s the holidays, and family and friends are pouring in from out of town, and we can’t know them all.”

  Laura and Maggie were folding a stack of sweaters that they had decided to display in open shelves by the front door during the winter months.

  “I suppose,” Laura said. “You know, I keep going over every conversation I had with Diane—or rather, Leann—and I just can’t believe that I never picked up on any of what she was going through. I thought she was just terminally shy.”

  “She was probably trying to put it behind her, and you helped with that,” Maggie said.

  “Maybe.” Laura sounded unconvinced. “Or by dragging her out and making her do things, I made her a target.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What if it isn’t some psycho stalker who got her?” Laura glanced up from the sweater in her arms. “What if it was Britney Bergstrom?”

  Maggie stopped moving and met her daughter’s gaze. “I had the same thought.”

  “No, really?” Laura asked.

  “Well, she was so hateful and threatening in the shop that day,” Maggie said. “I meant to mention it to Sam, but I forgot.”

  “I think you should tell him,” Laura said. “And I’ll back you up, and Aaron and the others heard how nasty she was at the ball.”

  “But would she have taken pictures of her?” Maggie asked. “And as far as I know, Britney has never been to Rhode Island.”

  “That doesn’t mean it wasn’t Britney,” Laura said. “She’s always been a hideous bully. Maybe she went to the deli to confront Leann and ended up strangling her.”

  Laura was twisting the sweater in her hands and Maggie reached forward and freed the cashmere from her grip.

  “I’ll talk to Sam,” she said.

  “Oh, thanks,” Laura said, shaking out her fingers before she reached for another sweater. She tucked the neck of a sweater under her chin as she folded it into thirds, then placed it on one of the top shelves. “You know, what I don’t understand is why she didn’t go to the police.”