by Josie Belle
Max heaved a sigh. He held out the box for Sam to see, and Sam gave a low whistle.
“You got that legit, right?” he asked. “I’m not going to have to haul you in for burglary, am I?”
“Yes!” Max said. “If you consider selling your soul to the devil legit. I even have the receipt. That’s not the problem.”
Sam frowned. “She didn’t say no, did she? A fine guy like you, she’d be crazy to turn you down.”
Max grinned, and Maggie leaned into Sam. She liked the way he made Max feel good about himself. Max hadn’t had a lot of that in his life.
“No. They’re saying my planned proposal lacks romance, creativity and thoughtfulness,” he said.
“Oh.” Sam puckered his lips. “What was your plan?”
“I was just going to lob it out there,” Max said. “And see how she answered.”
“Lob it out there?” Ginger asked.
“This isn’t softball,” Claire said.
“I have to give them that,” Sam said. “This is the big leagues. You need to make it memorable.”
“Aw, what?” Max asked. “But I’m no good at that mushy emotional stuff.”
“We’ll help you,” Maggie said. She reached over and patted his knee. “Maybe you should start by calling Laura. She and Bianca are friends; maybe she’d have some ideas for you.”
“Well, where am I going to keep the ring in the meantime?” Max asked. “If she finds it, it’s game over.”
“You can keep it in my safe,” Maggie said. “It’s bolted to the floor in back, and I’m the only one who knows the combination.”
“Okay,” Max said with a heavy sigh. He slapped the box into Maggie’s palm. He rose to his feet and they all joined him. “I was really looking forward to seeing her face, though. Are you sure I can’t—?”
“Yes, we’re sure,” Claire said. She turned to Ginger and Maggie. “Can you e-mail me our itinerary for shopping the sales? I need to get my game face on, and knowing our agenda will help. Shoot, maybe by then we’ll know if we’re shopping for pink or blue.”
“I’ll send it as soon as I get home,” Ginger said.
While Maggie went to lock up the ring, Sam let the others out. She was just closing the safe when Sam arrived in the break room with the tray of mugs and the pot of chocolate.
He began rinsing and washing at the small sink, and Maggie stepped up to help him. “I do love this domestic side to you, Sheriff Collins.”
“Maybe Max should propose while doing dishes,” he said.
Maggie laughed. She felt Sam watching her and turned to find him staring at her with an intensity that made her dizzy.
“Would that work?” he asked.
“I . . . uh,” she stuttered, and then she caught on that he was teasing her. She flicked her dish towel at him. “Quit messing with me.”
He turned away and began to hum while he scrubbed the last of the mugs, leaving Maggie utterly boggled. What had that been about? Did Sam want to get married? Oh no, did that mean he wanted kids, too? She supposed they should have the talk. If he wanted kids, then she really had to cut him loose. It just wasn’t fair to keep him from having his own family just because she’d already done the domestic diva routine.
She could picture him with a pretty young wife and their two kids, holding hands while they walked down Main Street as a cute family unit. The idea depressed her more than she thought was possible.
“Hey, you look like you just lost your best friend,” Sam said. “What’s the matter?”
She glanced up at him. His words were closer to the mark than he knew. Over the past few months, he really had become her best friend.
She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m just fretting.”
“So you need something else to think about,” he said. He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I think I have just the thing in mind.”
With a laugh, she let him pull her into his arms. If she was going to have to let him go, then she was determined to enjoy every second she had with him now.
• • •
Maggie hurried into the Daily Grind for her afternoon cup of go juice. She’d been fighting a case of the yawns and she knew the only thing that would fix it was a brisk walk in the February air followed by an extra large cup of Pete’s coffee.
When she stepped into the shop, however, she found Max and Ginger ensconced at a wall table with their laptops open and the table littered with muffin wrappers and ceramic mugs of coffee.
“Hi, guys,” she said as she approached. “Whatcha doin’?”
Ginger glanced up at her. Her eyes looked partially glazed and Maggie was sure it took her a second or two to place her.
“Ginger, it’s me, your BFF, Maggie,” she said.
Ginger rubbed her eyes with her fingers. “Sorry, I knew it was you. I just crawled out of a labyrinth of financials that are making my head ache.”
“Tell me about it,” Max muttered. “I think it’s time to call Sam.”
“Why?” Maggie asked. “Did you find something?”
Max and Ginger exchanged a look. It was a guarded look, as if they weren’t sure of how much to say. Maggie tried not to be offended, but she couldn’t help but feel a bit excluded.
“Tell him we’re going to need to talk to Blair,” Ginger said. “She must understand some of this.”
That was it. Maggie sat down. She was not moving until they told her what they’d uncovered. She’d go into full-on student protest limp body mode if she must.
Max nodded and tapped his phone. He raised it up to his ear. “It’s Max . . . Yeah, we found some interesting stuff . . . How do you feel about monthly deposits to an account in Switzerland?”
Max was silent for a long moment. “We’re at the Daily Grind. Yeah, she’d better come, too.”
Max put his phone down. “Sam is on his way, and he’s bringing Blair.”
Ginger looked pained but resigned.
“So you are officially working the case now?” Maggie asked her friend, trying to keep the jealous note out of her voice.
“Yes, Max asked Blair to give me broader access to their financials,” Ginger said. “It was a dogfight, but she finally agreed.”
“And thank goodness for that,” Max said. “You get this stuff so much better than I do.”
“And that’s saying something,” Maggie said. Ginger flushed with pleasure.
“I’m just happy to help,” she said. She glanced out the window that overlooked the town green. “I’ll do anything to help catch a killer on the loose.”
Seeing Maggie, Pete came out from behind the counter and approached the table. He was wearing his usual green apron with the shop’s logo on the bib, and his happy-go-lucky smile was firmly in place.
“I’ve got one for you,” he said. “What did one cup of coffee say to another?”
Maggie braced herself. Pete loved to tell coffee-oriented jokes, but you never knew how it was going to go. The only person who laughed every single time was Claire.
“No idea,” she said.
“Where you bean?” he asked. He busted out a belly laugh, which was contagious and made Maggie laugh harder than the joke had.
Ginger shook her head at him. “That was not any funnier the second time around.”
“Maggie laughed,” Pete protested. “And you should have heard Claire. She laughed and laughed.”
“That’s because she’s in love with you,” Max said. Maggie was pleased that he sounded so okay with it.
“Yeah,” Pete agreed, and the smile he gave them was blinding. “So, the usual high octane, Maggie?”
“Yes, please,” she said as she stifled a yawn. She had asked Mrs. Kellerman from the dry cleaner’s next door to watch her shop, and she really needed to get back, but she also wanted to see Sam, even if it was just for a moment.
&
nbsp; Pete returned to his counter, and Maggie wondered if she should have asked for even higher octane, but she didn’t want to get the shakes.
“Late night last night?” Ginger asked her. Her voice was laced with innuendo, and Maggie felt her face grow warm.
“I had insomnia,” she said.
“Really?” Ginger asked. “I thought his name was Sam.”
“Good one!” Max snorted and held up a hand to high-five Ginger. When they were done laughing, Maggie gave him a frosty look.
“Just remember I am the keeper of all that sparkles,” she said. “You would do well to stay on my good side so I don’t shut you down.”
“Noted,” Max said, abruptly serious.
Pete returned with a large cup of coffee for Maggie just as the door opened and Sam entered the shop with Blair and Summer. Maggie hadn’t seen either of them since the unfortunate encounter in the front of the police station. She wondered if maybe she should have left while the leaving was good.
Sure enough, Blair glanced from Sam to Maggie and snapped, “What is she doing here?”
Sam glanced at Maggie, who held up her cup as her first line of defense. He smiled.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But, as always, I am delighted to see her.”
Chapter 21
“I refuse to discuss my case with her here,” Blair said.
She looked as if she were going to dig her spiky heels into Pete’s wood floor. Maggie rose from her seat. She wasn’t going to cause a scene just because she might die of curiosity.
“Mama, stop it!” Summer snapped. “Maggie and her people have been really helpful to us, and you’re being just awful.”
“Ah!” Blair gasped. “How could you? How could you side with them against your own mama?”
“Because without them, I would be up for murder,” Summer said. “That’s how I could. Now, please, sit down and shut up.”
Maggie glanced at Summer in surprise. She had gone from accusing Maggie of shooting her mother to getting Tyler arrested for defending her. Frankly, it was getting hard to keep up with the woman’s moods. She wondered if this was part of her appeal to Tyler. His personality was pretty much steady as it goes. Maybe Summer goosed that a bit for him.
The fire in Summer’s eyes must have clued Blair in to the seriousness of her words, because Blair let out an indignant huff and stomped forward clutching her arm in its sling close to her chest.
Max hastily stood up and pulled out a chair for her. Blair sank into it as if she was about to expire at any moment.
Sam pulled up a chair from another table and wedged it in next to Maggie’s while Summer took the remaining seat.
“I can go,” Maggie said. “I was only passing by and saw Max and Ginger. I need to get back anyway. I don’t want to abuse Mrs. Kellerman’s generosity in watching the shop.”
Sam looked at her and shook his head. “No, you’re good. After careful consideration, I think it’s safer to have you in the loop than out.”
“Because I’m so insightful and helpful?” she asked.
“More accurately, so you don’t go rogue on me and get yourself killed,” he said.
Maggie gave him a small smile. She knew that he really didn’t want her involved but that he was beginning to understand that in a community this small, everyone was involved. He squeezed her knee and then turned to the table.
“All right, Ginger, tell us what you know,” he said.
Ginger frowned. “First, I have to ask Blair and Summer a few questions. To start with, did Bruce go to Switzerland often?”
Blair raised her eyebrows in surprise. “No, he hated traveling. He was deathly afraid of flying. We had to drive everywhere. He didn’t even own a passport.”
“Huh,” Ginger said as she looked back down at her papers. “Did he have family over there?”
“No, he had no family.”
“Did he own a business?”
“In Switzerland?” Blair asked. She sounded exasperated. “No! Why?”
“Are you absolutely sure?” Ginger asked.
“Yes, I’m positive. I was married to him, after all,” Blair said. “I would think I would know if he was doing business in a foreign country, wouldn’t I?”
Ginger closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose as if she was gathering every ounce of patience she possessed. She slowly exhaled through her mouth and opened her eyes.
“Okay, this is going to be more difficult than I thought,” Ginger said. She gave Max an apologetic look and he nodded.
“Why do you keep asking about Switzerland?” Blair asked.
“Oh, you mean you don’t know?” Ginger asked.
“Know what?” Blair growled. “What are you not telling me?”
“Well, as you said, you were married to him, so one would think you’d know that he was sending money to Switzerland every month.” Ginger paused to give her a pointed look. “Oh, and maybe you could tell us why. You were married to him, after all.”
“Money?” Blair asked. Ginger’s sarcasm was lost on her. The details of her money being sent out of the country, however, were not. “My money was being sent to Switzerland every month?”
“Yes, Bruce sent several thousand dollars to Switzerland every month for the past ten years,” Ginger said. “Although it gets a bit spotty about two years ago—Bruce started sending less, and not as regularly.”
“That would be when we got married,” Blair said. She studied the large diamond on her ring finger. “Bruce liked to buy me pretty things, and he did once say something about having to reallocate his funds if he was going to keep me happy.”
Maggie glanced at Summer, who was looking at her mother with a tiny frown marring her forehead. She got the feeling that Summer was seeing her mother and her mother’s life choices clearly for the very first time.
“Don’t frown, dear,” Blair chastised her daughter. “You’ll wrinkle.”
Summer let out a sigh worthy of a teen in the rocky throes of adolescence. Maggie felt sorry for her. Henpecked and nitpicked her entire life by Blair—was it any wonder Summer had turned out as she had?
“Is there any way to tell who or what the money was going to?” Sam asked.
“No, the Swiss bank privacy laws are pretty strict about that sort of thing,” Ginger said. “They won’t even verify the account. I only know of its existence because Bruce left a paper trail on this end.”
“Blair, I know you refuse to accept that Bruce was married before you,” Sam said. “But you have to consider that the money he was sending to this Swiss account was for Sela Cassidy, his first wife. It makes sense that she’d be in Europe, as she was a professional downhill skier until she blew out one of her knees. It could be that they are legitimately divorced and this is alimony. We just haven’t found the paperwork yet.”
Blair’s eyebrows lowered, and her mouth turned up on one side in a snarl.
“He was never married before,” she said. “Why won’t anyone believe me?”
“Because it doesn’t make any sense, Mama,” Summer said. Her tone was gentle. “I know you want to believe that you were his only wife, but you have to see that there were things Bruce didn’t tell you, and it looks like having a previous wife and depositing money in a foreign bank account were two of them.”
Blair blinked and turned to her daughter with large, sad eyes. “But he told me that I was the only woman he had ever married. Why would he lie?”
Summer shrugged. “I don’t know. Men lie. It’s what they do.”
Sam and Max cleared their throats and Ginger said, “Present company excepted, of course.”
They looked somewhat mollified. Maggie could feel Sam’s gaze on her, and she squeezed his hand to assure him that she did not think like that.
“I just don’t understand,” Blair sobbed as she leaned hea
vily on Summer’s shoulder. “He could have told me he was married before. I wouldn’t judge. I mean, it’s not like I was a virgin bride.”
Maggie choked on her coffee and Blair shot her a nasty look.
“Sorry, wrong pipe,” she said. Ginger glanced away and Maggie knew she was trying not to laugh.
Sam’s phone buzzed and he took it out of his pocket. Glancing at the display, he stood and said, “Excuse me. I have to take this.”
He stepped away from the table, and Maggie watched him go. His body was outlined by the window, and she admired his straight posture and broad shoulders. Although the years were beginning to tell, with the start of wrinkles and gray hair, he was just as handsome as he’d been when they were in high school.
“Isn’t that right, Maggie?” Max asked.
Hearing her name, Maggie turned back to the table with an undignified, “Huh? What?”
“I was saying that it’s in Blair’s best interest for Cassidy to have been married before,” Max said.
“How do you figure that?” Blair asked. She looked cranky.
“Because it gives us someone to look for who may have wanted to murder him.”
Blair blanched, and Max looked contrite.
“Sorry, that was tactless of me,” he said. “But you see my point.”
“No, it’s not that,” Blair said. “Well, it was tactless, but that’s not why I’m upset.”
“What is it, Mama?” Summer asked.
“If he lied to me about being married, how do I know he didn’t lie to me about other things?” she asked. “What if he has children out there? Or siblings? Or parents? Heavens, there could be a whole entourage of Cassidys that I’m going to have to deal with.”
“Anything is possible,” Summer said. “But hiding an ex-wife is one thing; hiding children would be much more difficult.”
“Agreed,” Ginger said. “And as a mother of four, I know what I’m talking about.”
“I hope you’re right,” Blair said. “Because I am not sharing my inheritance with any surprise snot-nosed brats.”
More than anything else, her incredible selfishness reassured Maggie that Blair was fine. If there was one truth about Blair, it was that she would always look out for her own interests first and everyone else’s second.
