Plum Deadly (22 page)

She went in the back again and watched Aunt Clara filling pies. “So—a hot date tonight, huh?”

“I only agreed to go out with him to get him out of the way.” Aunt Clara bustled around the kitchen, avoiding meeting Maggie’s gaze.

“Sure. That’s the only reason I’m going out with Ryan too. He’s always underfoot.”

“You’re getting cheeky now, young lady. I think you should mind your own business. Going out to dinner with Garrett doesn’t mean anything. I’ll never think of another man the same way I thought about your uncle.”

“It’s okay for you to have romance in your life again, Aunt Clara. Uncle Fred has been gone a long time. I’m sure
he wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone. He’d want you to date other men.”

Aunt Clara stared at her for a moment before she broke into peals of laughter. “You didn’t know your uncle, then!”

Maggie had no answer for that. She went back up front and got some new customers set up.

As soon as the morning crowd thinned out, she walked back to the house and put her new clothes in the washer. She’d have to walk back at around four to dry them. She wanted something new to wear to dinner that night. Dry cleaning was going to have to wait until she had some money.

Walking to the house and back, Maggie thought about what Ryan had said about finding other evidence that pointed to Stan being in Durham before Lou’s death. She knew it would require more than that to prove that Stan had anything to do with killing Lou, but it was the only place they had to start.

She thought about calling Jane and asking her if Stan had left New York before her. Jane wouldn’t want to implicate her husband, though, since it would mean ruining her life too. She even seemed a little scared of Stan. Maggie didn’t want her to get hurt.

Maggie thought about the other woman’s nervousness when she’d talked to her at the hotel. It was possible Jane was already suspicious. It was even possible Stan had realized that others might be asking questions about him.

Short of paying people at the hotel to tell her what she needed to know, Maggie couldn’t think of any other way to
get information about Stan. She didn’t have the resources to throw money around and hated for Ryan to keep using his connections, as he had with the cell phone information.

What else could she do?

A man was walking out with pies in cardboard boxes when she got back to the shop, and she realized that she could pretend to be delivering pies to Stan and Jane. That way she could get into their hotel room and possibly take a look at Stan’s laptop and his calendar.

But not if they were there. She needed Ron, Stan’s personal assistant, to be there alone. He’d be forced to deal with the surprise delivery, and that would be her opening.

She decided to call Stan and Jane’s suite at the hotel.

Maggie checked on all the customers who’d come in while she was gone. She let Aunt Clara know she was back from the house. Then she went behind the counter and called the hotel, asking for Stan Isleb’s room.

The courteous hotel clerk put her through. Ron answered the phone.

“I have a delivery for Stan and Jane Isleb.” Maggie tried to make her normal voice deeper. Not that she thought Ron would remember what she sounded like, but why take chances?

“I’m afraid Mr. and Mrs. Isleb are out for the day. They won’t be back until late tonight,” Ron said. “I’ll be here to take the delivery.”

Maggie thanked him then tried to think what she could do to distract Ron while she took a look around the Islebs’ suite.

Nothing came to her right away. She was inspired, however,
about an hour later when one of her customers dropped a piece of Chocoholic Cream pie on the floor. It went everywhere. Not so much a problem for her, cleaning the tile floor.

At the hotel—on carpet—would be a different story. Ron wouldn’t want to leave that kind of mess for Stan to see.

She had to wait until they closed down the shop for the day. They were too busy to leave Aunt Clara alone.

“I never expected to run out of pie this way.” Aunt Clara locked the front door behind them. “Usually twelve of the featured pies of the day is plenty. I don’t know if people are hungrier or what.”

Maggie laughed. “I guess you were right about the publicity being good for business.”

“Well I’m very glad you’re here to help. I should tell you though that you overworked your piecrust a little this morning. It was breaking apart on some of the pies. Not an emergency, mind you. Just remember to use a lighter hand.”

“Sorry. I’ll try not to do that tomorrow. How’s the mystery pie coming?”

“I think we have enough people signed up to name it. I usually wait until at least twenty-five names are in the jar. It’s always fun to see what they’ve come up with—and sometimes a challenge to figure out how to make it.” Aunt Clara smiled at her as they walked home. “I thought I’d let you have that honor.”

“Me? I don’t think I’m ready for that—I barely know how to make the tried-and-true variety.”

“Of course you don’t. That’s part of the fun. You’re a very creative person, Maggie, and I have several very good
cookbooks at the house. You’ll look through them and figure it out, like I always do.”

Maggie was a little daunted by the task. She wasn’t sure her version of the mystery pie would sell. What if she made one that no one wanted to eat?

It started drizzling before they reached the house. The night was going to be cold and damp. Maggie had tried to call Ryan and make their date for dinner later so she’d have time to go to the hotel with her pies. He didn’t answer or text her back. Even worse, he was waiting in his car at the house for her.

“I got done with everything early and thought I’d come over here.” He got out of the car when he saw them. “We could go to dinner early or we could sit and talk for a while before we go.”

Maggie had been hoping that she’d not only have fresh information about Stan but she’d be dressed in something special when he came to get her for dinner. She’d imagined Ryan being bowled over when he saw her.

She realized it had been a fantasy. There wasn’t enough time to go to the hotel and get back in time to change for dinner. She didn’t want to make him wait. Waiting for people was one of her pet peeves. She’d have to make the best of it.

“I have another idea,” she told him. “Let’s deliver some pies to the hotel.”

She outlined her idea for Ryan, who thought it seemed feasible. “I can’t believe you were going to do this without me. I thought we were a team.”

“You got the cell phone records. I was trying to do something useful too.”

He finally gave in. “Okay. I can keep watch in the lobby in case the Islebs come back too early. Otherwise, it’s your baby. Then we can go out afterward and talk about it. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t leave me out of the loop again.”

Maggie assured him that she wasn’t leaving him out of anything, surprised that he’d think so. “I think this will work. I wasn’t purposely trying to leave you out. I came up with the plan to get into the hotel suite and wasn’t sure how that would work out. I don’t want you to take all the risks either.”

Ryan seemed satisfied with that explanation, and their talk turned to implementing Maggie’s plan.

She’d brought two Chocoholic Cream pies home with her in separate boxes. Her plan was to accidentally open the bottom box and let a pie slip out on the carpet. While Ron went to get something to clean up the mess, she’d look around for a laptop. She even had her old flash drive to take information with her.

“I think it’ll work,” she said as they drove to the hotel. She held the pies carefully on her lap. It would ruin the plan if she dropped them too early.

“What’s the downside if it doesn’t? The Islebs will never order pies from you?” Ryan asked. “As long as you don’t actually get caught taking information from the laptop, everything should be fine.”

She laughed. “Not that I can imagine Stan or Jane ordering pies from me no matter what.”

“True. The key here is not to get caught stealing the information. Ron knows you. He’d probably have you arrested.”

“So I shouldn’t get caught. An important part of the plan.”

She and Ryan got to the lobby of the Hilton and split up at the door. Ryan planned to sit in a chair and pretend to read the newspaper, explaining that it was a good cover as well as good promotion for the paper.

Maggie asked for the Islebs’ hotel room and told the desk clerk that she had a delivery for them. The man there sent her to the elevator with the suite number. She walked to the elevator, precariously balancing her pie boxes as people rushed out toward her when it opened.

Then she went to suite 236 to spill her pie.

Ron recognized her as soon as he opened the door. “It’s you.” His eyes narrowed a little as he took in her boxes. “Was Mr. Isleb expecting you?”

“Yes.” She smiled brightly. “He wanted me to deliver these pies. He said you’d pay me when I got here.”

Ron looked a little less suspicious. “What kind are they?”

She hoped Stan liked chocolate as she told him.

His expression cleared. “Oh, chocolate. That’s his favorite. Let me get the cash.”

Maggie gave him a price and hid her surprise. Stan didn’t strike her as a chocolate eater. She smiled and stepped into the Islebs’ beautifully carpeted hotel suite.

She felt a little guilty as she prepared to work her plan. It was going to be a mess, made more so by her crusts that fell apart too easily. Ron might clean some of it up. The majority of it would have to be cleaned up by the hotel staff. She felt bad about that.

Not bad enough to give up on the idea.

She had already worked the light string open a little on the white cardboard boxes. These were thin pastry boxes that ripped easily. There wasn’t much holding them closed.

She watched as Ron took cash from a box on a desk set against the far wall in front of a window. Probably some petty cash set aside for things like this.

She waited patiently until he’d started walking back toward her with the cash. The plan worked beautifully as she released the pie in the bottom box. It slipped out and smashed on the once spotless green carpet. The pie went everywhere with the impact.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she said.

As she leaned over to show her concern, the second pie slipped out as well. She hadn’t planned on that happening. The two pies together on the floor were a terrible mess. She could see the almost comical look of horror written on Ron’s face as he reached her.

“Oh my God! How could this happen?” He glared at her. “What should I do? I mean, is there a special way to get this off the carpet? I can’t leave this here for Stan to find. He’ll kill me. How could you be so clumsy?”

Maggie apologized again. “Let me help you. I can use the cardboard to scoop up a lot of it. We’ll still need some wet rags, maybe wash cloths or towels from the bathroom.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. Where’s my brain? I’ll get them.” He brought her a lined trash can. “Put all of it in here. Be careful not to spill any more.”

As soon as he left the room, Maggie ran over to look at the desk by the window. There were papers all over it, some
of them she recognized with the bank logo on them. Her eyes immediately tried to focus on the writing.

Concentrate.
She needed the laptop, not the papers.

She saw a laptop. It wasn’t what she was expecting. She stopped cold.

Is that—?

It was
her
laptop. The used one that had been stolen from the house.

M
aggie picked the
laptop up, glancing to see if Ron was coming back. She opened it. There was her butterfly sticker that a customer from the pie shop had given her. It was definitely her laptop.

That meant Stan, or probably Ron on Stan’s behalf, had broken into Aunt Clara’s house and taken her laptop. It was crazy to even think about.

Stan had to be guilty. It was the only thing that made any sense. He wanted to know what she knew, either about the money that was taken from the bank or about Lou’s death.

Either one of those things might make him guilty of being a thief or a murderer. Maybe both.

She looked at the open doorway again. There was still no sign of Ron. Should she simply take the laptop with her?

This might finally be enough to get the police interested in asking Stan some hard questions before he went home. She didn’t need Stan’s laptop, which didn’t seem to be on the desk anyway. The fact that he’d stolen hers should be enough to bring Frank in on it.

Maggie whipped out her cell phone and took pictures of the laptop. She made certain the pictures included items that would make it obvious that it had been in Stan’s hotel room—he had business and personal items all over the desk.

She planned to leave it there and call the police. But what if Stan had Ron get rid of it? She’d be out a laptop and lacking the only evidence that could prove Stan’s involvement. What if her photos weren’t enough?

She could call Frank and wait until he got there, daring Ron or Stan to throw her out of the room. But what about hotel security? She couldn’t fight off armed guards.