A Deal to Die For (10 page)

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 clenched 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.

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.

Alice poured hot water over the tea bag and handed the mug to Maggie. Maggie used
her spoon to push the tea bag down while it steeped. She wasn’t sure how to broach
the subject, so she decided just to dive in.

“Alice, how come you’re not at the jail with Doc?”

Alice’s hand shook as she raised her mug to her lips and blew on the steaming tea
before taking a delicate sip.

She was quiet for so long that Maggie wondered if she was going to answer her at all.

“I think John can handle himself,” she said.

“Of course, he can,” Maggie agreed. “That’s not the point.”

“What is the point then?” Alice asked. She sounded tired.

“It’s just that if the situation were reversed, I can’t imagine he would be here serving
tea while you were being interviewed by the police at the station house.”

“Don’t you judge me, Maggie Gerber.”

Alice slammed her mug down on the counter with a sharp crack. Tea sloshed over the
rim and spilled across her fingers. She stared at her hand as if uncertain what to
do.

Startled, Maggie jumped out of her seat and hurried around the counter.

“Here let’s get your hand under cold water,” she said.

She led Alice to the sink and ran the tap. She held Alice’s hand under the cold water
until the angry red of her skin lightened. Maggie dried the hand gently with a towel.

“Does it sting?” she asked. “Are there blisters?”

“No, it’s fine,” Alice said. “Thank you.”

Maggie wrapped an arm around Alice’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry I barged in on you, and I never meant to judge, it’s just—I don’t understand
what’s happening,” Maggie said. Her voice wavered but she kept going. “No one is acting
normal, and no one is telling anyone what is really going on, and I just care about
you and Doc so much.”

Alice returned Maggie’s one-armed hug and said, “I know you do, and we care about
you, too. Things are…confusing right now. But you have to understand that John and
I have been married for a long time. We have a history together, a long and private
history.”