A Deal to Die For (5 page)

She patted Doc’s shoulder and went over to the reception desk, where the main phone
to the office sat. Maggie knew the Franklins’ home number by heart. Being Doc’s bookkeeper
for the past twenty-plus years, she’d had to call him at home frequently to go over
last-minute issues with the patient billing.

Alice, his wife of thirty-seven years, answered on the second ring.

“Hello,” she answered.

“Hi, Alice, it’s Maggie.”

“Maggie, oh, I was just thinking about you yesterday,” Alice said. “I was over shopping
in Dumontville, and there was a pre-holiday sale going on at Stegner’s. They had loads
of handbags for seventy-five percent off. I found the cutest Coach clutch, and I was
thinking you should really pick up a few to stock at your store.”

“Oh, well, thanks for the tip, Alice,” Maggie said.

She wasn’t sure how to segue into telling her about Vera Madison, and just as she
was about to, Alice was off and running. Maggie took the time to gather her thoughts.

“You know,” Alice said, “when you have your grand opening, we should really get the
word out by taking a full-color ad in the
St. Stanley Gazette
. I bet John could get Mitch Kowalski to give you a discount. He’s been advertising
in the paper for years, and Mitch owes him a favor for being such a loyal customer.
Besides, I work the toy drive at the church with Mitch’s wife, and I know I could
get her to lean on him. What do you think?”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Maggie said. “Um…I…”

“Oh, listen to me going on and on,” Alice said with a laugh. “We really need to get
together over lunch and catch up properly. Why, I’m not even giving you a chance to
speak. I’m just so excited for your shop.”

Maggie felt her lips curve up. Alice Franklin was the nicest, most upbeat person Maggie
had ever known. Maggie could picture her in her kitchen wearing her navy blue bib
apron and rolling out a pie crust. Alice was especially known for her apple pies and,
this being November, it was her season to shine.

The picture was so rich and warm and completely the opposite of the image of Vera
Madison on the floor that
Maggie felt her throat get tight. She wasn’t sure how to say what she had to say.

“Maggie, dear, what is it?” Alice asked. “You sound upset. Did you need John? He’s
out golfing at the club, but you can probably reach his cell phone, assuming he remembered
it. You know, the man is hopeless with that phone.”

As if sensing Maggie was struggling, Sam rose from where he was crouched beside Vera.
His gaze was fastened on Maggie’s face as if he was trying to assess her well-being.
Maggie did not want to burst into tears in front of Sam. It would be a sign of vulnerability
that she preferred he never see. She supposed it went back to their childhood, when
he used to tease her. She’d never let him see her cry then either. Instead she’d popped
him in the nose.

Even after they’d broken up, the few times she’d run into him over the years when
he came to town to visit his family, she’d just ignored him. He seemed to accept it,
and he had never tried to speak to her either.

Since he’d moved back, he’d been virtually impossible to ignore. And even though they
were trying to be friends, Maggie would prefer he not see her in a weakened state.
She was not ready for that and probably never would be.

She forced herself to swallow the knot in her throat. She could do this. She wasn’t
going to let Sam Collins see her lose it. Not now. Not ever.

She turned her back to him in what she hoped was a casual move and lowered her head
to look at the desk in front of her.

“Alice, I’m at the office, and Doc is here with me,” Maggie said. “Something’s happened.”

“What? I don’t understand,” Alice said. “Oh, honey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Is it John? Is he all right?” Alice asked. Her voice sounded faint, as if she could
barely get the words out.

“No, he’s fine, too,” Maggie said. “We’re both fine. But he’s pretty shaken up. Alice,
he found Vera Madison in his office and she’s…well, she’s dead.”

There was a pause while Alice absorbed the news. Her voice when it came through the
receiver was devoid of any of the warmth Maggie had always associated with Alice Franklin.
Instead, it was cold and sharp, like an icicle hanging off an eave, waiting to fall.

“Well, ding-dong, the wicked witch is dead,” Alice said.

Maggie gasped. She couldn’t help it. Never in all her years of knowing Alice Franklin
could she have imagined her saying anything so mean.

“Alice!” she gasped. “Surely, you don’t mean—”

“Oh yes, I do,” Alice said. “Vera Madison was the most selfish person I ever had the
misfortune to know. Anything she wanted she got, and if people didn’t give her what
she wanted willingly then she took it.”

“I don’t think this is the time…” Maggie said. She could feel Sam’s gaze burning on
her back and she kept her voice low, hoping he couldn’t hear Alice’s very loud side
of the conversation.

“Well, I suppose it’s no more than I would expect,” Alice said. “If Vera had to go
and die, I’m not at all surprised that she managed to do it in John’s arms.”

Maggie had no idea what to say. If she had been asked to predict any reaction from
Alice Franklin about the death of Vera Madison, it would not have been this. This
was so
completely off her radar that she didn’t know what to say or where to look.

She could feel Sam watching her, and she darted a quick glance at Dr. Franklin. He
still clutched the paper cup of water she’d given him, and it was as full as when
she’d handed it to him.

He looked utterly distraught, and she really didn’t think it was the appropriate time
to ask him about Alice’s powerful dislike of Vera Madison.

“Well, I hear what you’re saying, Alice,” Maggie said, trying to keep her voice neutral.
“But here’s the thing: Doc has had a bit of a shock, and I think it might be best
if he didn’t attempt to drive home.”

Again, there was silence, and Maggie wondered for a moment if Alice had heard her.
Finally, Alice spoke, but her voice was as brittle as the petals of a dried flower.

“Fine, I’ll be there to pick him up in twenty minutes.”

“Thank you, Alice,” Maggie said.

She replaced the receiver carefully, as if it might bite her, or worse, as if Alice
might call back and let off another tirade against Vera.

“She’s unhappy, isn’t she?” Dr. Franklin asked.

“She seemed a bit dismayed,” Maggie said. “But she’ll be here shortly.”

Doc gave Maggie a thoughtful look and then looked back down at his hands. She noticed
he didn’t look at the sheet draped over Vera’s body.

Sam glanced between them, and Maggie shrugged. She didn’t want to let on that Alice
had been uncharacteristically unkind. She didn’t want Sam stirring up trouble with
the Franklins by asking a lot of personal questions.

After all, it didn’t take a genius to figure out from Alice’s hostility that there
was something between the Franklins
and Vera Madison. Maggie wondered if Vera had been Doc’s girlfriend back before he’d
married Alice. Alice didn’t seem the jealous type, or at least she never had, but
maybe it took a tragedy to bring out all of those dormant feelings from the past.

The front door opened, and Deputy Dot Wilson, a stout black woman who Maggie knew
had a weakness for designer shoes, came in with Bianca Madison. Next to Dot’s dark
skin and curvaceous body, Bianca looked even thinner and paler than usual. A strand
of her stringy brown hair had escaped, and her glasses were askew, as if she had been
caught off guard and was not yet able to process what was happening to her.

“This is Vera’s daughter, Sam,” Dot said. Her voice was kind, and she pushed Bianca
forward like a mother hen encouraging her chick out of the nest. Bianca looked scared,
as if she knew something awful was happening, but not quite what.

Sam stepped forward, his face grave.

“Miss Madison, I’m afraid I have some bad news,” he said. “Your mother has passed
away.”

“I’m sorry. Passed
where
?” Bianca asked.

The confusion on Bianca’s face might have been comical if it weren’t in regard to
the death of her mother. Instead, it was just achingly sad.

The truth was that Alice hadn’t been wrong about Vera Madison. She was one of those
people who managed to bend the world to her will, and the strength of her will was
such that it was hard to imagine a time when she wasn’t in charge.

Maggie imagined that Bianca, having spent her entire life in her mother’s shadow,
would be unable to comprehend a world in which Vera Madison did not exist and was
no longer in control.

Sam seemed to catch on to the situation at the same time.
He put his hand on the back of his neck, a habit of his when he was stressed, and
blew out a breath.

“I’m sorry, Bianca, but your mother is dead,” he said.

Thankfully, Deputy Dot Wilson’s curves were made mostly of muscle. As Bianca drooped
toward the ground like a top-heavy sunflower, Dot caught her around the middle and
eased her into a chair.

One look at Bianca’s face and Maggie could tell she was on the brink of a full-on
panic attack. Sweat beaded up on her forehead, her breath was coming in short gasps,
she pressed a hand to her chest as if she were in pain and she was trembling like
a leaf before a storm.

Dr. Franklin took one look at her and snapped into action. He put his cup of water
on a low side table and bent over Bianca, easing her forward in her seat. “Here. Put
your head down between your knees. Breathe through your nose.”

He took her wrist in his hand and checked her pulse. He frowned with concern.

“Is she all right, Doc?” Sam asked.

“She will be,” he said. “It’s a panic attack. They generally peak within ten minutes.”

Maggie went to fetch another cup of water, more for something to do than anything
else. The clock on the wall over the main desk ticked in the silence that filled the
room. Maggie shifted from foot to foot while she watched Doc calmly talk Bianca through
her panic.

Bianca let out a long, mournful moan, and then a shudder wracked her entire frame.
Maggie wished she knew her better and could offer her comfort, but Dr. Franklin stayed
beside her, and Bianca drew in several shaky breaths and finally raised her head.

Sam and Dot stood on the other side of the sheet that took up most of the waiting
room floor.

“Is that her?” Bianca’s voice broke on the question.

“Yes,” Sam said.

“Can I see her?” Bianca asked.

“Are you sure?” Dr. Franklin asked. “You can take as much time as you need.”

He glanced at Sam, who nodded, letting Doc know that was fine.

“I’d like to know, for sure,” Bianca said.

Maggie wondered if she was holding out hope that this was all some horrible mistake
and that her mother wasn’t really under there. She had a feeling she’d do the same
and she felt another pang of sympathy for the young woman.

Bianca rose from her seat, and Sam knelt next to the body with her. When Bianca jerked
her head in assent, he pulled back the sheet, draping it around Vera’s throat.

“Oh.” Bianca’s voice was soft. “Mom.”

She reached out and tenderly smoothed a lock of Vera’s hair back into her top knot,
and Maggie felt her throat get tight at the sight.

Maggie heard a sniff, and she glanced up to see Dot wipe at her eyes with the edge
of her sleeve.

“Do you know what happened?” Bianca asked Dr. Franklin. “Was it her heart?”

“Uh, no,” he said. “I’m sorry to say I don’t know what happened. She was like this
when I found her.”

“Bianca,” Sam said, drawing her attention to him. “Can you tell me why your mother
came here?”

“When we were setting up for the market, she said she wasn’t feeling well,” Bianca
said. “She wasn’t specific, but just said that she didn’t feel right.”

“Did she have a preexisting condition?” Sam asked.

Bianca gave him a pained look. “She had several.”

“But why here?” Dr. Franklin asked. His light blue eyes were intense. “Why did she
come to me?”

“I know she’s not your patient,” Bianca said apologetically. “But she didn’t want
to leave all of her things at the flea market to have me drive her over to her doctor
in Dumontville. I promised to keep watch over the booth while she came here. She said
she’d be right back.”

“Was your mother on any medication that she would use a syringe for?” Sam asked.

Bianca’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Yes, she took insulin for diabetes. It was one
of her many medications. My mother was very sickly.”

Bianca’s voice trailed off, and she glanced back down at her mother. She pressed her
lips together in a firm line while she closed her eyes tight, as if to hold back a
flood of tears. Maggie could tell she was trying hard to keep it together.

Without thinking about it, she knelt beside her and put an arm around her. Bianca
stiffened at the contact, but Maggie didn’t let go. She hated to see the poor woman
struggling with her shock and grief with no outlet among these relative strangers.