by Josie Belle
“Oh yeah, because Molly never would have let this happen,” Joanne agreed.
“So, why didn’t you call one of us?” Maggie asked.
Bianca held up her phone. It had been shattered. She looked like she was on the brink of tears, and Maggie didn’t have the heart to be annoyed with her.
“Did Courtney do that?” she asked.
“No, Summer Phillips did.” Bianca sniffed. “She said it was an accident, but it happened right after I called for a cab. I think she did it on purpose.”
“Bianca, you’re not leaving your home,” Maggie said. “And that’s final.”
A banana yellow sports car raced up the driveway. There was only one person in town who drove such an obnoxious car. Summer.
She and Courtney were laughing as they climbed out of the low riding vehicle. They looked like two Hollywood celebutants in micromini skirts, spiky leather boots and cropped fur coats.
“Still here?” Courtney asked as she walked around Bianca. “I swear, you’re like a barnacle. What’s it going to take to scrape you off?”
“Given that this is her home, I don’t really see why you think you can make her leave it,” Maggie said.
“Oh no, this isn’t her home anymore,” Courtney said with a toss of her luscious brunette curls. “It’s mine, all mine.”
“Are you insane?” Joanne asked, clearly out of patience.
A sound in the driveway alerted them to another arrival. It was Max, driving his rusted-out car. It didn’t roll so much as it lurched up the driveway, making an ominous knocking noise as it came.
The women all stood transfixed at the sight before them. Maggie cringed. If Max was going to be their go-to legal adviser, they really needed to give him an overhaul. When the car finally stopped with a sound that resembled a death rattle, Max climbed out of the car through the passenger door.
“My door doesn’t open,” he said when he noticed they were all watching him.
Courtney and Summer doubled over with laughter. Not the hearty belly-laugh kind, but the screechy, mean-girl mocking sort that managed to make a person feel small even when they knew that the person doing the laughing shouldn’t have that kind of power over them.
To Maggie’s surprise, Max lifted an eyebrow at the two women, looked them up and down and said, “Isn’t it a bit early in the day for you two to be trolling for customers? You know, if you’re going to work a corner, you’d have better luck on the corner of Main and Fifth.”
Summer gasped and Courtney glowered. Maggie and Joanne exchanged grins. Bianca looked at Max as if he was a demigod, and Maggie realized Bianca was only a few years older than Max and had lived a much more sheltered life. Maggie couldn’t imagine what Bianca thought of Max, but judging by the worshipful look on her face, it was all good.
“Oh, look, the baby shark has grown some teeth,” Courtney said in a sing-song voice.
She walked forward, making her hips gyrate in a way that Maggie was sure would throw her back out. She circled Max and looked at him from under her eyelashes.
“You can’t win this one, little boy,” she said. “Why don’t you go home and play with your LEGOs?”
Max gave her a slow smile. He pulled out his phone and pressed a button.
Maggie watched him. Despite the death trap he had arrived in, Max looked almost presentable. The acne that had dogged him for years was clearing up. His hair, which was usually in greasy strands hanging down over his face, was tied back at the nape of his neck.
Maggie realized this was the first time she’d ever really seen Max’s face, and he was quite handsome, with thick, dark eyebrows that arched over sharp hazel eyes, a straight nose and a jaw that looked strong enough to take a punch.
He held the phone to his ear, and after a moment’s pause he said, “Good afternoon, Judge Harding. Maxwell Button here. Very good, sir, and yourself?”
There was another pause, and Maggie saw Courtney and Summer exchange a worried look.
“Sorry to trouble you, but I have a question about that estate I was talking to you about the other day,” he said. “Yes, well it seems there’s been a bit of a scuffle at the home of my client, where the proponent who is contesting and has put forth an action to set aside the existing will has locked my client out of her home and is demanding that she vacate the premises.”
No one spoke while Max listened and made several uh-huhs.
“Six to eight months, you say?” Max asked. “Yes, that’s about what I figured. Thanks for your time, sir. Yes, we will have to meet up for a round of golf before winter hits.”
Max switched off his phone.
“What are you playing at?” Summer snapped.
“Oh, that was my mentor, Judge Harding,” he said. “He did several years in probate court. Haven’t you heard of him? He’s very well connected in the county.”
Courtney and Summer exchanged nervous glances.
“It’s going to be six to eight months before you have a hearing, so basically, he said you need to calm down,” Max said. “You have no right to kick my client out of her home, and if you pull a stunt like this again, it will be very damaging to your case.”
He held out his hand.
Courtney looked like she wanted to spit, but instead she dug through her tiny clutch purse and slapped a key into his palm. Hard.
“And one for Molly, too,” Maggie said.
“There’s one in the kitchen for her,” Courtney snapped. With a huff, she turned on her heel, nodded good-bye to Summer and strode to the house. She unlocked the door with her own key and stomped inside, slamming the door behind her.
Max walked over to Bianca, who was still sitting on her suitcase, looking as if she wasn’t sure what was happening. He held out his hand to her and helped her to her feet.
“Come on, Bianca,” he said. His voice was gentle, as if he was coaxing a treed kitten to safety. “Let’s get you back inside.”
He handed her the key, picked up her suitcase in one hand and took her elbow in the other, and led her up the steps into the house.
“Is that…?” Joanne’s voice trailed off, but Maggie knew what she had been about to say.
“Yes, our boy Max is growing up,” she said.
“You think you’re so smart,” Summer hissed at Maggie. “But Courtney is going to eat your precious little Bianca for breakfast.”
“So, she is a cannibal,” Maggie said. “I’m not surprised.”
Joanne snickered while Summer slammed into her car and roared down the driveway, spewing gravel in her wake.
Max rejoined them in front of the house.
Maggie wanted to compliment his appearance, but she didn’t want to embarrass him, so she praised his quick thinking instead.
“Nice work, calling the judge like that,” she said. “Since when is Judge Harding on your speed dial?”
Max grinned and held up his phone. He flicked through the screens until he got to his last call. He pressed the screen and held the phone up to Maggie’s ear. In seconds, she heard an automated voice reading off the court’s hours.
“Maxwell Button, when did you get to be so sneaky?” she asked.
Joanne listened, too, and then giggled. “That was brilliant! I never would have guessed.”
“Thankfully, neither did they,” Max said. He sagged against his car and Maggie saw the nervous teenager she knew and loved peek out of his grown-up exterior. “I don’t want to be paranoid, but there is something about this that doesn’t add up.”
“What do you mean?” Maggie asked.
“I think Courtney is up to something,” he said. “Overturning a will is pretty impossible, and she’s trying to set aside Vera’s. She’s holding something back, something she thinks will seal the deal.”
“Like what?” Maggie asked.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“But why would she hold back if she knew it would give her the Madison estate?”
“She’s probably waiting until we go to trial,” Max sai
d. “If we have six to eight months to go, she’s not going to want to give me a heads-up. She’s going to want to blindside me with it.”
“Then why throw Bianca out?” Maggie said.
“She might be afraid that living in close proximity will tip Bianca off to whatever she’s doing,” he said. “Of course, this is all speculation.”
“No, I think you’re right,” Maggie said. “Courtney Madison has an agenda, and I think we need to figure out what it is.”
The three of them were silent when one of the squad cars from the sheriff’s department rolled up the drive and parked beside them.
Chapter 21
Sam Collins stepped out of his car, and he did not look happy.
“Would anyone care to explain to me why Courtney Madison just called the station to complain about three trespassers?” he asked.
“Oh, look at the time,” Joanne said as she glanced at Max’s phone. “I have a doctor’s appointment over in Dumontville. Max, would you mind giving Maggie a ride?”
“No problem,” he said. He turned to Sam and said, “If you need confirmation that I was conferring with my client and that my two…um…assistants were here to help me, feel free to ask Bianca Madison. She can give you all of the details. Are you ready to go, Maggie?”
“Sure,” she said.
“Just let me climb in your door first,” Max said.
Maggie waited while Max crawled over the middle of the car, awkwardly bending his frame into the driver’s seat. When she was about to climb in after him, Sam leaned into the open door, blocking her way.
“I’ll give Maggie a lift home,” he said.
Max glanced at Maggie. She glanced at Sam. His gaze had a definite frost on it.
“That sounded more like an order than an offer,” she said.
“That was the gist,” he said.
Maggie bent over to glance at Max. “Looks like I have a police escort.”
Max frowned.
“No worries,” she said. “I’ll get Sam up to speed.”
“Just the facts,” Max said.
“Roger that,” she said.
Max turned the key and stomped on the gas. The car gave a low groan, like a bear waking from hibernation, before it lurched forward and down the driveway, leaving behind the acrid smell of exhaust but thankfully no car parts.
Maggie looked up and noticed that the trees on the estate had dropped most of their leaves, and the piles on the ground were becoming significant. The world surrounding them had lost its vibrant hue and seemed to be locked into shades of brown and pale blue.
“Do I get frontsies or backsies?” she asked Sam.
“If you can refrain from touching my siren, you can sit in the front,” he said.
“Really?” she asked. “No siren? Not even the short chirp they make sometimes?”
“No, not even that,” he said.
“I don’t much see the point of riding in a squad car if I don’t get to use the siren,” she said.
“It beats walking,” he said.
“There is that,” she agreed.
Sam opened the door for her, and Maggie slid into the utilitarian vehicle. She was relieved that he seemed to be treating her like he did Ginger, as an old friend he could banter comfortably with. Maybe there was hope for this attempt at friendship after all.
They were halfway down the driveway before he ruined it completely.
“So, what was Doc doing in your shop this morning?” he asked. “Did he tell you anything of interest?”
“How do you even know he was in my shop?” Maggie asked. “Are you spying on me?”
“No!” Sam protested. “I don’t have to spy on you. Summer Phillips’s shop is across the street from yours. If you so much as sneeze, she calls me to tell me about it.”
“Why that’s just…” She sputtered to a stop. There weren’t words powerful enough to express how irritated she was.
“What do you know, Maggie?” Sam’s voice was soft.
She turned to study him. His jaw was clenched tight with a stubborn resolve that let her know he was not going to let this topic go until he got satisfactory answers. She suspected it was this relentlessness that made him such a good detective.
Obviously, he was unaware that he had met his match in the obstinacy department, and she had no intention of telling him what Doc had told her. She was still trying to make peace with it, and she knew it wasn’t her place to blab.
“I can take you down to the station and question you formally, if you’d prefer,” he said.
They had reached the center of town, and Maggie wondered for a fleeting second if he actually would. She was supposed to meet the girls to paint the shop tonight.
She would hate to miss that. She had a feeling he was bluffing.
“Stop trying to intimidate me,” she said. “It won’t work.”
Sam stopped at an intersection and turned to look at her. His lips curved up in a wry smile that let her knew she’d been right. He wasn’t going to haul her in.
“I know,” he said. “You’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met.”
Maggie blinked. “Is that a compliment?”
“Would that be so shocking?” he asked.
“Uh—yeah,” she said. “That would be two in as many days. You’d better watch it, or I’m going to start thinking you actually like me.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Maggie felt her face grow hot with embarrassment. “And by that, I mean as a friend, of course.”
“I do care about you.” Sam paused. “As a friend.”
A honk behind them made them both jump, and Maggie glanced up to see that they’d been sitting through a green light. Sam blew out a breath as he stepped on the gas and moved the car forward.
They were both silent, and Maggie was painfully aware of his every move beside her. The way he held the steering wheel in his hands and how his eyes checked the rearview mirror every few seconds. It was an awareness that put her on edge, and she longed to hop out of the car and put some breathing room between them.
He turned onto her street and pulled into the driveway of her house. Maggie didn’t wait for him to open the door, instead she shoved it open and was halfway out when he called her back.
“Maggie, as a friend, I need to know what Doc told you,” he said.
Maggie stared at him for a second. Suddenly, the compliments and the blushing awkwardness between them made perfect sense. Sam Collins was trying to charm the information out of her.
“You are despicable,” she said. She slammed the car door, making the glass rattle.
Sam reeled back as if she’d struck him. He hopped out of his side of the car and stared over the roof at her.
“What did I do now?” he asked.
“You heard me,” she said. “You’re trying to charm information out of me like I’m the same bubble-headed adolescent you left behind when you went to college. The same idiot who believed you when you told me you loved me. Well, it’s not going to work!”
Maggie spun on her heel and started stomping up the walkway to her house.
“Maggie, wait!”
Sam started to follow her.
“Forget it, Sam!” she snapped over her shoulder. “I’m not falling for it again.”
“Hey!” He grabbed her by the elbow and spun her around to face him. “I am not trying to charm anything out of you.”
“Oh, sure. ‘You’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met,’ blah blah blah.” She repeated his words. “You’re playing me like a fiddle, but I’m not giving up Doc to you, so you can just quit trying.”
Sam glowered at her. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I meant what I said?”
Maggie gave him a scathing look.
“You were widowed at twenty-four and had to raise your daughter by yourself and, from what I’ve heard around town, you’ve done a heck of a good job. I call that pretty damn brave.”
Maggie opened her mouth to speak, but Sam wasn’t done.
“Amusement at my expense?” she guessed.
“No. White hot jealousy,” he said. “The exact same thing I felt when I heard you were going to go out with Butch Carver from Rosemont.”
Maggie felt her mouth slide open in surprise.
“Some things don’t change with time,” Sam said. “And the way I feel about you, the way I’ve always felt about you, is one of them.”
“I—” She began to speak, but Sam cut her off.
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “You got married and had a kid and moved on with your life, but I never did. It’s always been you, Maggie. Always.”
She watched as Sam ran a hand through his hair. He looked equal parts frustrated and embarrassed.
“Listen, I know you’re dating Pete, and I respect that,” he said. “I won’t push you in a direction you obviously don’t want to go, but I don’t want you to have any confusion about my feelings for you. I care about you—I’ve always cared about you and not just as a friend.”
“Sam, I—” she began, but he was already backing up toward his car, as if he needed to put some space between them.
“It’s all right, Maggie,” he said. “I’m a big boy, I can handle it. I’m not going to grab you and kiss you and try to convince you that it’s really me you should be dating, tempting as that may be.”
He was back at his car, and Maggie was torn between running into her house to hide under her bed, and launching herself over the hood of his car and into his arms. So, naturally, she stood frozen, unable to move so much as an eyelash.
“But, Maggie, I need you to know one thing,” he said. “No matter how much I care for you, I still have to do my job, and I’m going to need to know what Doc told you, and if I have to drag you in front of a judge to make it happen, I will. I’ll be in touch.”
Maggie was pretty sure her feet had sprouted roots, as she was incapable of moving until the taillights of his car disappeared around the end of the street.
Chapter 22
“What sort of technique is that?” Ginger asked Maggie as she rolled her paint roller across the faded chartreuse wall, covering it in a happy shade of Aqua Chiffon.
