A Deal to Die For

by Josie Belle

  She took it personally when people were sick and considered it her mission in life to eradicate the illness and make them feel better. Maggie had often thought Cheryl would make a great doctor, but Cheryl said she couldn’t handle the thought of all of the paperwork.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Maggie said.

  She draped her arm around Cheryl’s shoulders and together they walked into the station.

  Thankfully, the front desk was being manned by Deputy Dot Wilson. She saw Maggie and raised an eyebrow at her.

  “I’ve been waiting for you. I thought you’d be here earlier than this,” Dot said. She plunked her hands on her curvy hips, looking like she was gearing up to give Maggie a lecture.

  Dot wore her tan deputy’s uniform with pride. She never had a hair out of place. It was always tucked neatly into a bun at the back of her head. She was, however, partial to Italian shoes. She and Maggie had gotten to know each other a few months before and had quickly bonded over expensive perfume and imported footwear.

  “Good morning, Dot,” Maggie said. “How’s Doc?”

  “He’s fine,” she said. “You probably heard that he got called in and you overreacted, didn’t you?”

  Maggie gave her a reluctant nod.

  “It’s just a questioning,” Dot said. “Standard operating procedure, no big deal.”

  “Well it feels like a big deal to me,” Cheryl said.

  “You want to see a big deal?” Dot asked. “I’ve got a big deal for you.”

  Dot stepped out from behind the counter and bent one knee back, lifting her foot in a classic 1950s Hollywood-starlet pose. “Look what I got at Stegner’s.”

  Maggie gave a low whistle. “Fendi?”

  “The short patent lace-up boot,” Dot said.

  “Those do not look to be standard-issue deputy shoes,” Cheryl said. “How are you going to chase down a suspect in three-inch spindly heels?”

  “I’m not chasing anyone in my Fendis,” Dot said. “When I go out on rounds, I change.”

  “Stegner’s, huh?” Maggie asked. “Many sizes left?”

  “They were going fast,” Dot said.

  “I really hate to break up the shoe-fetish thing that you two have going,” Cheryl said, looking annoyed. “But we’re not here to talk about shoes.”

  Maggie shook her head, trying to dislodge the picture of how wonderful those shoes would look in her storefront window, maybe with a nice retro-looking sixties A-line dress that was an ultrafeminine counterpoint to the shoes.

  “Focus, Maggie,” Cheryl said.

  “You’re right,” she said. “Dot, what can you tell us about Doc Franklin coming in for questioning?”

  “Not a whole lot, since I’m not in the room with them,” Dot said. “He came in about an hour ago, and he’s been in the interview room with Sam ever since.”

  “An hour!” Cheryl and Maggie said together and exchanged a worried look.

  Maggie glanced around the waiting area, looking for Alice Franklin. It was noticeably empty.

  “Did his wife come with him?” she asked.

  “No, he was alone.”

  Cheryl and Maggie exchanged another worried glance. It was very out of character for Alice not to be by Doc Franklin’s side during a crisis. She was his anchor and not in a “ball and chain” way but in a “ship in rough seas” sort of way.

  “Did he say anything when he came in?” Cheryl asked. “You know, like maybe his wife has the flu or a hair appointment or anything like that?”

  “No.” Dot shook her head. “He just looked really sad.”

  “We need to see him,” Maggie said.

  “No can do,” Dot said. “This is a formal interview. Sheriff Collins would pop a blood vessel if I interrupted them because of you two.”

  “But Doc’s all alone,” Cheryl protested. “He needs us.”

  Dot leveled her with a hard stare.

  “Listen to me, Cheryl Kincaid: Dr. Franklin is a grown man. He does not need the two of you babying him because he’s a person of interest.”

  “He’s a what?” Cheryl’s eyes bugged, and her shoulder muscles bulged, and suddenly the marshmallow of a nurse looked like she could do some damage.

  Dot huffed out a breath. “Darn, I probably wasn’t supposed to say that.”

  “Say what?” Sam Collins asked as he strolled into the room through a door behind Dot’s counter.

  “That Doc is a person of interest,” she said. She gave him a sheepish look as if waiting for him to lay into her. He didn’t.

  “No, you shouldn’t have said that,” he said. He glanced across the counter at Maggie and Cheryl. “Especially not to those two.”

  Maggie was winding up to give him what for when the door to the station house opened and in tripped Maxwell Button. Max skidded to a stop beside them and pushed his long, greasy black hair out of his face.

  “Oh, hell no,” Sam said. “You did not call this boy in here to represent Dr. Franklin, did you?”

  Maggie said nothing, but she grinned at Max. “Good to see you, Max. What have you been doing since the Frosty Freeze closed for the winter?”

  “Delivering pizza for A Slice of Heaven,” he said. “The pay isn’t great, but Mrs. Bellini lets me study and gives me free pizza.”

  “So, you have benefits,” Cheryl said. “Not bad.”

  “I wish I’d get free pizza,” Dot said with a chastising look at Sam.

  “Look, I meant no offense,” Sam said to Max.

  “Why would I take offense?” Max asked. “Defense lawyers and cops are not generally pleased to see one another in a professional capacity, are they?”

  “Well, just so you know, it’s not personal,” Sam said. “You’re just awfully young that’s all.”

  Maggie would have given Sam points for decency but since he had brought Dr. Franklin in for questioning, she withheld them.

  “Thank you for coming, Max,” she said. “I know Doc will feel better having you here.”

  “I owe him one,” Max said. “Remember when I thought I was having indigestion and it was actually appendicitis? It ruptured and I got peritonitis. I could have died if Dr. Franklin hadn’t figured out what was wrong and gotten me to the hospital when he did.”

  Maggie turned to Sam to give him her best “I told you so” look. He ignored her.

  “Can I see my client?” Max asked.

  “He hasn’t asked for representation yet,” Sam said.

  They all stared at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  Maggie crossed her arms over her chest, and Cheryl cracked her knuckles.

  “Okay, fine,” Sam relented. “Dot, please let Mr. Button into the back.”

  Max tripped through the half gate, and Maggie cringed. She noticed he tripped more than he walked lately, since his feet had grown inordinately large during the past year.

  Maggie had a feeling he was in for a delayed growth spurt. He was already six feet tall, but she suspected another three to four inches were in the offing for him. Although he was a genius, and at the age of twenty had doctorate degrees in law and physics and was currently pursuing one in art history, he was still a growing boy.

  Once Max and Dot had disappeared, Maggie turned to Sam, and said, “I’d like an explanation.”

  “Excuse me,” he said as he made to walk past her.

  “No, I won’t excuse you,” she said.

  Dot came back through the office door. She looked winded, as if she’d hurried back so as not to miss anything. She shuffled some papers across the top of her desk, but it was a wasted effort, as her gaze was locked on Maggie and Sam as if they were her favorite daytime TV program and she didn’t want to miss a second of the drama.

  “Maggie, I have nothing to say to you right now,” he said.

  “Well, I have a lot to say to you, Sam Collins,” she said. She knew he was giving her the brush-off, and it made her so mad that when she spoke her voice came out in a low growl, as it was filtered through her clenche
d teeth.

  He gave her an irritated glance, as if he knew what she was going to say and he didn’t want to hear it. “I’m sort of busy right now.”

  “It won’t take long,” she said. “We can talk privately if you’d feel better.”

  She saw Cheryl and Dot exchange a look of disappointment.

  “Fine,” he said.

  He gestured for her to follow him over to the corner at the end of the room. Maggie went. She could feel both Dot and Cheryl watching her, and she felt the weight of their expectations on her back.

  “What can I do for you, Maggie?” he asked.

  “That sounds an awful lot like ‘What can I do to make you go away,’” she said.

  He didn’t flicker an eyelash at the harshness of her tone. “Whatever works.”

  “Are you going to arrest Doc?” she asked.

  “I’m not discussing that with you,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” she asked. “I have a right to know.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “What do you mean ‘Why?’” Maggie could feel her temper heating up. “He’s my boss.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think that gives you a leg to stand on,” he said. “What do you want from me, Maggie?”

  His eyes met hers in a looked that pierced. Maggie felt as if his gaze could slice through the baloney like blue lasers and see exactly what was going on inside of her. That was probably why he was such a good detective. Good thing she had nothing to hide.

  “Dr. Franklin is the kindest, gentlest man I’ve ever known,” she said. She was alarmed that her voice cracked, letting him see the emotional side of her. Still, she forged ahead. “You can’t arrest him. He’d never harm anyone. I know it. He’s a good man.”

  “If he murdered Vera Madison, he’s not that good,” Sam said. His voice was as cutting as jagged shards of glass.

  “He didn’t do it,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “You don’t know that,” he said.

  “How do you even know she was murdered?” Maggie switched tactics. A shouting match was brewing, and she knew it wouldn’t help the situation at all, as much as she wanted to give in and yell at him.

  “The syringe that was found beside Vera is believed to have been the cause of her death,” Sam said. He leaned close and kept his voice low so that the others couldn’t hear him.

  Maggie opened her mouth to question him, but he interrupted her.

  “That’s all I’m saying. Don’t ask for any details, because I’m not giving any out. I can’t jeopardize this case to alleviate your worries about Dr. Franklin, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention the syringe to anyone else, as we’re trying to keep it quiet. I’m only telling you this now because you were there when we found it, and I want you to understand why I had to bring him in and question him.”

  “You don’t think he did it,” she said. He glanced away and she said, “Aha!”

  “Don’t,” he said. His voice held a note of warning. “There’s more going on here than you think, and if Doc is guilty, I will have absolutely no problem locking him away for the rest of his life.”

  “Then you do think he did it!” Maggie jabbed him in the chest with her pointer finger. “How could you?”

  Sam looked disturbed, as if her harsh assessment bothered him. Well, good. She had more where that came from. If he thought he could arrest Dr. Franklin on something as circumstantial as a syringe found at the scene of Vera’s death, well, he had another think coming.

  “What did Alice have to say about this?” she asked. “Isn’t she friends with your mother?”

  Sam cringed, and she knew she’d hit a weak spot.

  “Listen, I’m doing my job whether you, Alice Franklin or my mother like it or not,” he said. “And just so you know, threatening to tell my mother on me isn’t going to sway me like it might have when we were kids.”

  “Oh yeah? We’ll just see about that, won’t we?”

  Sam huffed out a breath, looking annoyed. Maggie knew she had him.

  Mrs. Collins had raised four boys, of whom Sam was the youngest. Each one had turned out exceptionally well, and everyone knew it was because not one of them would put one toe out of line with Mama Collins watching. Maggie wasn’t about to admit it, but she was a little afraid of her, too.

  Maggie turned to leave, but Sam grabbed her elbow and spun her back around to face him.

  “For the record, you’re cute when you’re mad,” he said. Then he winked at her, let go of her arm and strolled back through the door behind the counter that led to the back of the station.

  Chapter 10

  Maggie felt her mouth slide open in surprise. She had expected some begging or pleading from him not to go to his mother. Instead, he flirted.

  “Oh my,” Cheryl breathed as he walked past. “Good thing I’ve been dating Tim Kelly as long as I have—I’m pretty invested in him—or I’d set my sights on that one.”

  “Really?” Maggie asked, as if she found it odd.

  “Oh, come on,” Dot said. “Everyone knows you and Sam Collins hiss and spit at each other because you like each other.”

  “I do not like Sam Collins,” Maggie protested. She could feel her face heating up, and she hoped it looked like anger instead of embarrassment. “We’ve never gotten along. We’re trying to be friendly, that’s all, and he certainly does not make it easy.”

  “Friends with benefits?” Cheryl asked. She and Dot exchanged a grin.

  “Oh, good grief, no!” Maggie said. “That man is impossible.”

  “But very cute,” Dot said.

  Maggie glanced between the two women watching her with amused smiles. She frowned. They smiled wider.

  “Fine, whatever. Cheryl, will you stay here and wait for Doc? I’m going to see Alice,” Maggie said. “There’s something odd about her not being here.”

  “I’ll stay here,” Cheryl said. “When Doc’s finished, he might need a friendly face.”

  Cheryl had light brown hair that she wore in a thick braid. Her round face was splattered with freckles and she had an upturned nose, kind gray eyes and the longest eyelashes Maggie had ever seen. If anyone had a claim to possessing a friendly face, it was Cheryl.

  “Excellent,” Maggie said. “Text me if there’s news.”

  “You, too,” Cheryl said.

  Maggie waved bye to the two ladies and strode back out into the chilly morning air. Doc and Alice Franklin lived just off the center of town in the historic district, like Maggie, but closer to Ginger and her family. Maggie could have walked it, but she didn’t want to lose any time, so she took her car.

  In this part of town, the houses were big, the yards were gorgeously landscaped and the atmosphere was peaceful, probably because everyone had enough room to get away from each other.

  Maggie heard the gravel driveway crunch under her tires as she pulled up to the large house. It was two stories of white with black shutters and a red front door. The porch wrapped around the front on one side and was decorated for autumn with dried cornstalks and pumpkins.

  Maggie parked her car and walked up to the front door. She rang the bell and waited. The garage was in the back, so she had no idea if Alice was even home.

  After several minutes, as if the person inside was debating whether they should answer or not, the door was pulled open, and there stood Alice.

  “Good morning, Maggie,” she said. “I’m afraid John’s not here.”

  “I know,” Maggie said. “I was just at the police station, where he’s being questioned. Cheryl and I were there, and we thought we should check on you to see how you’re doing.”

  “Oh, I’m fine,” Alice said. Her voice was high and tight, indicating that she was anything but fine. “Why don’t you come in? I’ll make us some tea.”

  “Thank you,” Maggie said.

  She followed Alice into the house with a million questions on the tip of her tongue. She held them in check, knowing that the less she said the more Alice was
likely to say to fill the silence.

  “Earl Grey all right?”

  “Perfect,” Maggie said.

  They passed the sitting room, with its uncomfortable-looking ornate furniture, and the study, which looked happily cluttered. It reminded Maggie of Doc’s hair. Once a week, Alice straightened and cleaned the study, but by the end of the week, Doc had it in a happy shambles, just like his hair started the day as neat and tidy as a heavily pomaded 1950s men’s hairstyle but by the day’s end he was full-on mad scientist.

  Maggie had always thought that was the beauty of their relationship. Alice kept things managed, and Doc gave her something to manage. Maybe this time, he had given her more than she could handle.

  Maggie followed Alice down a narrow hallway that was painted in a rich burgundy and was covered in black-and-white photos of both Alice’s and Doc’s families, dating back a hundred years.

  Since they had no children, there were no pictures of any further generations of Franklins. It gave the bare spot on the wall a hollow feeling Maggie had never noticed before.

  She followed Alice into the modern kitchen with its granite counters and steel appliances and took a seat at the counter. She had sat here so many times over the years, it was comfortingly familiar.

  She realized now that it had always been her who’d needed consoling. She was struck by the uneven relationship she had with Alice, who was always there with a cup of tea and a slice of pie to listen away Maggie’s troubles. Had she really never done the same for Alice? Had she really thought Alice didn’t have any troubles of her own? How selfish she had been.

  The kettle on the stove was letting off steam and began to whistle. Apparently, Alice had already been brewing herself a cup of tea. Maggie watched as she fetched another mug and tea bag and set the honey and a spoon down beside Maggie.

  Her thick silver hair was held back from her face by a hair band. She didn’t have any makeup on, and her eyes were swollen as if she’d been crying. This observation made Maggie feel even more neglectful of her friend.