by Josie Belle
“I can see that this is all just a big joke to you,” she said to Maggie. “We’ll just see who’s laughing when Sam throws you over for Summer.”
“Say what?” Mrs. Oliver’s friend Patty Trudeau asked. “That’s ridiculous. That boy has been following Maggie around for months. It’d take a crowbar and some serious elbow grease to get him off of her.”
Maggie smiled at the woman, who had just earned herself fifty percent off.
“Thank you, Mrs. Trudeau,” she said. Then she turned to Blair and said, “I think we’re done here. Now, good-bye, and I really do mean that from the bottom of my heart.”
Blair glanced at her jewel-encrusted watch and heaved a sigh. “Fine. It’s just as well. I have a hair appointment anyway. Think about what I’m offering.”
She gave Maggie a superior look, stuffed her checkbook back into her purse and sauntered out of the shop. Maggie had the feeling that she had not seen the last of the vile woman. Something had to be done. She simply could not keep dealing with this ridiculousness.
She rang up Mrs. Oliver and company. They had all found hats for their tea and were looking forward to their trip to Dumontville. She was happy for them, but she had a trip of her own in mind.
Grabbing her keys, Maggie retrieved her coat and locked up the shop. She waited for two cars to pass and then hurried across the street to Summer’s shop, Second Time Around.
Maggie had never been in Summer’s store before. The window display, a full-size cardboard cutout of Summer dressed up in a gaudy cupid outfit, was off-putting to begin with, and she really had less than no interest in seeing what Summer had done with her shop.
The bells jangled on the door as Maggie pulled it open. She stopped in her tracks to take in the scene before her. She felt her mouth slowly slide open, and her power of speech evaporated. Twice in one day—it was definitely her new personal best.
With the walls draped in silk hangings and the scent of incense on the air, Maggie felt as if she’d walked into a scene out of Arabian Nights.
“Holy wow,” she breathed.
“Can I help—oh, hi, Maggie,” Sheri Sokolowski greeted her as she stepped out of the back room.
Sheri was wearing a clingy red jersey dress that hugged her generous curves as if hanging on for dear life. Sheri kept tugging up the front of the dress, which seemed to want to reveal as much of her cleavage as was possible.
Sheri let out an impatient sigh and then grabbed a scarf off a rack nearby and draped it over her shoulders.
“There,” she said. Then she smiled at Maggie. “What can I do for you?”
“I was looking for Summer,” Maggie said.
“Oh, yeah, Scheherazade is out to lunch,” Sheri said drily.
Maggie smiled. “So, I take it you’re not loving this?”
“It’s a job when jobs are scarce.” Sheri sighed. “It would be a bit more bearable if Summer didn’t insist on my dressing like a ho, but as I said, jobs are scarce.”
“I hear you,” Maggie said. “You know, I think Doc Franklin might be looking for a bookkeeper.”
“Reaaaaally?” Sheri asked. “I thought Claudia Hughes had a lock on that job.”
“She took the secretary job at the high school,” Maggie said. “Same hours as her kids and summers off, which is pretty hard to beat.”
“Huh, you don’t say,” Sheri said.
“If Summer asks, no I didn’t,” Maggie said. “I doubt she’d appreciate my telling you about other opportunities, and I really need to talk to her about her mother.”
Sheri rolled her eyes. “Ah, yes, Blair. That woman has been riding me from the moment she arrived in town. I swear if she makes one more crack about my weight, I’m going to sit on her while eating a double scoop, triple brownie hot fudge sundae of which I will savor every bite.”
“She does inspire that sort of reaction,” Maggie agreed. “Do you know where Summer went to lunch?”
“She said she was stopping at home to grab some things she’d picked up for the shop,” Sheri said. “Good luck talking to her about her mother. She thinks that woman is perfect, and is trying to be exactly like her.”
Maggie frowned. That was not good news. She’d been hoping that Summer was tired of her mother, too. Oh, well, they still needed to have a conversation about Blair’s attempts to buy Sam, and Summer was going to listen whether she wanted to or not.
“Thanks, Sheri, and good luck with the job that I never mentioned,” Maggie said.
Sheri grinned and waved to her as she left. Maggie hurried back to her shop to grab her purse. She hated to close in the middle of the day, but honestly, she didn’t feel as if she had a choice.
She flipped the store sign to CLOSED and hurried to her car, which was parked down the street. Summer lived on the edge of the center of town in a small bungalow built back in the days when the wire factory was still in business and needed pop-up housing for its workers. The neighborhood had gone from a mid-century utopia for families to a blight on St. Stanley and was now on a surge into artsy housing for unmarried singles and couples who planned to stay that way.
Maggie practiced what she planned to say to Summer the entire ride over. She tried it in her calm and reasonable “let’s be adult about this” tone, then she tried it in her angry “I’m going to kick your butt” tone. She preferred the calm and reasonable tone, but she had a feeling angry and butt-kicking was the only thing that was going to get through to Summer.
She parked in front of Summer’s house and decided to call Sam. Given Summer’s usual histrionics, she didn’t want her calling Sam and lying about this visit, saying that Maggie had threatened her or stalked her or whatever.
Sam answered his office line on the second ring. “Sheriff Collins.”
“So official,” Maggie teased.
“Well, if I’d known it was the prettiest lady in town calling, I would have answered entirely differently,” he said.
Maggie felt the same thrill she always did when Sam’s voice dropped an octave and whispered in her ear.
“Would you now?” she asked.
“Yes, I would,” he said. His voice was almost a growl, and Maggie felt her heart rate kick up as memories of the night before made her blush.
She cleared her throat. “Well, I hate to divert your attention, but this is actually an official call.”
“It is? What’s up?” he asked. His voice was immediately that of a law enforcement professional.
“I’m at Summer’s house,” Maggie said. She got out of her car and walked up the path to Summer’s front door.
“Why are you there?” he asked. He sounded confused and concerned.
“Because Summer has to call her mother off,” Maggie said.
There was a pause and then Sam asked, “What happened?”
“Blair came into the shop today and tried to buy me off,” Maggie said. Her voice was sharp with outrage and she could feel her temper igniting again.
“Beg pardon?” Sam asked. “I think we have a bad connection. I thought you said . . .”
“Yes, you heard me correctly,” Maggie interrupted. “She offered me five thousand dollars to dump you so that Summer could have you.”
“What?!”
“When I said no, she upped it to seventy-five hundred.”
“You said no?” He laughed.
“Yes,” Maggie said. “Her final offer was nine thousand, and I said no to that as well.”
“I’m flattered,” Sam said.
“Because you’re worth nine thousand to Blair Cassidy or because I said no?” Maggie asked. She could hear him chuckling, and she supposed it was funny, but she just wasn’t there yet.
“Both,” he said. This time he laughed out loud.
Maggie sighed and pressed the doorbell. She heard it chime, and she waited.
“Yes, wel
l, anyway,” she said. “I’ve had all I can take from Blair Cassidy, and I’m going to tell Summer that she needs to muzzle her.”
“Uh, do you think that’s a good idea, darling?” Sam asked.
“Do you have a better one?” she countered.
She glanced over and saw Summer’s car in the drive. She then glanced back at the door. Why wasn’t Summer answering? She rang the bell again.
“No, I don’t, but you and Summer are like fire and gas,” he said. “I’m not sure you should try to have this conversation with her without supervision.”
“Oh, it’ll be fine,” Maggie said. “We’re not in high school anymore.”
Summer still didn’t answer the door. Maggie frowned and tried the doorknob. It was unlocked.
“She’s not answering, but her car is here,” Maggie said into the phone.
“Maggie, I wouldn’t go in there,” Sam said. “If she thinks you’re an intruder—”
That was all Maggie heard before a scream sounded from the house, making her jump.
“Sam, someone just screamed. I’m going in,” she said.
Sam started to protest but Maggie wasn’t listening as she pushed open the door and hurried into the house.
“Summer! Summer, are you in here?” she cried.
A mewling sound was coming from the back of the house.
“Maggie! Wait! Maggie, I’m on my way!” Sam’s voice was yelling in her ear. Maggie lowered the phone so she could follow the sound of the cries.
She darted through the living room and dining room and turned the corner into the kitchen. She stopped short with a horrified cry.
Summer was standing over her stepfather’s supine body, clutching a bloody hammer in her hand.
Chapter 10
“Sam, you need to get here right away,” Maggie said into her phone. “And call an ambulance.”
“Maggie, what’s going on?” Sam cried. He sounded out of breath, and Maggie knew he was probably running for his squad car. “Are you safe? Is there anyone in there with you?”
Maggie glanced around the room. “No, it’s just me and Summer and Bruce Cassidy. Sam, I think he’s dead.”
“What about Summer? Is she okay?” he asked.
Maggie forced herself to look up from Bruce’s body to where Summer was standing over him. She was shaking, and her hands had streaks of blood on them.
“Summer, are you hurt?” Maggie asked. “Summer, look at me!”
Summer’s blonde hair was hanging over her face. Small whimpering noises were coming out of her mouth. As if she had just registered Maggie’s presence, she glanced up and met her gaze.
“Dead,” she said. “He’s dead.”
Summer dropped the hammer onto the floor with a sharp thump and burst into tears. Maggie crossed quickly to her side and checked her over. There were no signs of injury. She put her arm around Summer’s shoulder and led her to a stool at the kitchen island.
“As far as I can tell, Summer is shaky but unharmed,” Maggie said into the phone. At this, Summer threw her arms around Maggie’s neck and began to sob on her shoulder. Maggie patted her back and said, “Hurry, Sam, please hurry.”
“On my way,” Sam said. “Stay on the line.”
Maggie could hear the siren on his car echoing through the phone. From this side of the island, she could only see Bruce’s sneakers on the floor. She really needed to check on him, but Summer had her in a stranglehold. Her mind flashed to the pool of blood beneath his head. She really didn’t think there was much chance that Bruce Cassidy was still alive.
“Summer, are you sure he’s dead?” she asked.
Summer nodded against Maggie’s shoulder. Heaving sobs wracked her body, and Maggie patted her back with one hand while keeping the phone to her ear with the other.
Maggie felt as if she were holding her daughter, Laura, after one of her childhood nightmares. She started to make soothing noises while she rubbed Summer’s back.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
Summer shivered against her and Maggie kept up the soothing talk. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what must have happened here, but she knew that whatever had happened had shaken Summer to the core.
“Should I get her out of the house?” Maggie asked Sam.
“Does that seem possible?” he asked.
Maggie took that to mean he could hear Summer’s sobbing even on his end.
“No,” she said. “Not very.”
“Look, I’m just down the street, so long as the house seems secure, stay put and stay on the line with me,” he said.
“Got it,” Maggie said.
She turned her attention back to Summer. Never in a million years would she have thought that she and Summer would be in a situation like this. Still, Summer was hysterical, and Maggie couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. It had to have been a shock to come home and find her stepfather like this.
Maggie thought about rounding the corner. Hold on. Summer had been holding the bloody hammer. Had she . . . ?
“Summer,” she asked, “was Bruce like this when you got here?”
“Maggie, don’t go there,” Sam ordered.
Maggie put the phone down. She grabbed Summer by the shoulders and hauled her away from her. A glance down at her jacket and she could see the wet spots from Summer’s tears.
“Summer, look at me,” she said. “Was Bruce like this when you got here?”
Summer sniffed. Her long blonde hair hung in her face, but Maggie could see through it. Summer’s makeup had run down her face, her skin was blotchy and the end of her nose was red, but she met Maggie’s gaze with a tear-filled one of her own.
“Y . . . y . . . yes,” she said on a staggered breath. “I came in and he was lying there. I called his name but he didn’t answer, so I knelt beside him and he was cold and . . . dead.”
Summer paled, then swallowed hard and forced herself to continue, “I kneeled on the hammer, so I picked it up, and that’s when you walked in.”
Maggie nodded.
“My mo . . . mo . . . mother. I need to call her,” Summer said.
“Yeah, we can do that,” Maggie said. She picked the phone back up. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes,” Sam said. He didn’t sound happy. “I’m parking out front right now.”
“Sam’s here,” Maggie said to Summer. She patted her back. “He’ll take care of things.”
Sure enough, in moments, Sam rounded the corner into the kitchen.
“Hey—” was all he got out before Summer launched herself across the room and into his arms.
“Oh, Sam, I’m so glad you’re here,” she cried. “I knew you’d come.”
Maggie ended the call on her cell phone and tucked it back into her purse. She turned to see Sam hugging Summer. When Summer tried to cling to him, he pulled her off and gently pushed her back.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “Were you harmed?”
“No, not harmed, just—” Summer gestured behind her at Bruce Cassidy’s body. “Who would have done this?”
“I don’t know . . . yet,” Sam said. He pulled a pair of blue rubber gloves out of his pocket and then went to check Bruce out.
Maggie and Summer stayed on their side of the kitchen island. Maggie glanced over, trying to see what he was doing while Summer studied the tips of her high-heeled boots.
Maggie heard Sam call for backup and a medical examiner while they waited. When he came around the granite-topped island, his face was grim. Maggie saw the steely resolve in his eyes and she imagined this was exactly what he had looked like during all those years spent as a detective on the Richmond force.
“I’m going to check the house,” Sam said. “I need you to stay right here. Don’t touch anything, and don’t move.”
�
��Oh no, Sam, don’t leave me,” Summer cried as she grabbed his arm.
“I’ll be right back,” he said. He looked at Maggie. “Can you take her?”
Maggie stepped forward and took Summer’s arm. “The sooner he can check the house the sooner he’ll be back.”
Summer slumped against the counter. They were mostly out of sight of Bruce’s body, but to Maggie it loomed like a black cloud on a sunny day. There was no ignoring it.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Summer said.
Maggie turned and looked at her. “What would that be?”
“That I did it; that I killed him,” she said.
“Now why would I think that?” Maggie asked.
“Because you hate me and you think I’m evil,” Summer said.
“I don’t think you’re evil,” Maggie lied.
“But you do hate me,” Summer persisted.
“Only sometimes,” Maggie said. “When you’re being, you know, you.”
Summer looked as if she was about to start crying all over again, which made Maggie feel like a heel for being honest. Her mother had raised her better than that.
She grabbed a paper towel off the holder by the sink and handed it to Summer.
“Sorry,” she said grudgingly. “I didn’t mean it. Old habits die hard.”
“Apparently,” Summer said. “Sorry I threw myself at Sam. Like you said, old habits . . .”
Maggie raised her eyebrows in surprise, and Summer shrugged. They stared at each other and then they glanced away. Things felt abruptly awkward between them. Summer blew her nose while Maggie glanced at the doorway, willing Sam to return.
The ticking of the kitchen clock seemed inordinately loud and Maggie looked around for a distraction.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” Summer asked.
“Oh, I, uh, came to talk to you, actually,” Maggie said. “I stopped by your shop, but Sheri said you’d just left to come home and have lunch.”
“I was planning to have a salad,” Summer said. “I’m trying to lose weight.”
Maggie didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing. Normally, she would tell the person they looked fine, but she and Summer didn’t have that sort of relationship. If she said Summer looked fine, it would probably damage the woman’s self-esteem beyond repair.
