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Authors: Ellie Grant

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BOOK: Treacherous Tart
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She'd already called the police desk several times to ask for information. She'd left messages for Frank too.

The phone finally rang after the last time she called, startling her. She answered with a quiet, fearful voice. It was Ryan telling her that he was leaving the hospital.

“I'm at the pie shop.” Her voice was wooden. “That's great news. No word yet on Aunt Clara.”

“Frank is here talking to Garrett about what happened last night. He said he'll bring me by your house to get the car.”

“I'm glad you two have made up.”

“Me too. All it took was my newspaper office burning to the ground, my father being attacked, and your aunt disappearing.”

“Does Garrett remember anything about what happened?”

“He remembers everything, Maggie. He said he thought it was a woman who attacked him and took your aunt. Maybe that isn't too surprising.”

“Why?”

“Because the police had to let Debbie Blackwelder go last night.”

Twenty-three

W
hat?” Maggie couldn't
believe they'd let the only real suspect in Donald's murder go free. “Why?”

“The DA refused to prosecute the case. He said there wasn't enough hard evidence.”

“So we're thinking that Debbie may have attacked Garrett and taken Aunt Clara?”

“That's what Frank thinks. I was up all night thinking about it. My brain feels like scrambled eggs. The police sent someone to Debbie's house, and the salon. There was no sign of her, or Aunt Clara.”

Maggie saw her first customer drive up and park in front. “I have to go. Are you coming here after you get your car?”

“I need a quick shower and a change of clothes. I'll be there as soon as I can. Do you think you should be at the pie shop today? Maybe it would be better if you stayed home.”

“Too late. Professor Simpson is here, and he's got his newspaper with him. It's just another day.”

“Don't worry, Maggie. I'll come and help out. We'll get through this.”

“Thanks, Ryan. I'll see you in a while.”

Professor Simpson was followed by several police officers. They all wanted coffee and warm apple pie. Maggie took their orders and brought their pie and coffee. She wondered if Aunt Clara's disappearance was in the newspaper or on TV this morning. She hadn't heard anything about it.

She wasn't sure if that was good or bad. The more people who knew to look for her aunt, the better—like when they issued Amber and Silver Alerts.

On the other hand, if Aunt Clara had been kidnapped, the person who took her might not like the notoriety, and that could be dangerous.

The usual group of early-morning customers came in. Some stayed and ate there, talking about the bad weather, and classes at the university that had been canceled or rescheduled because of it.
Some left right away—trying to get to work before they were late.

Angela came in and filled up her oversized coffee mug from the urn. She also asked for a whole mincemeat pie in a box to go. “Where's your aunt this morning?”

Maggie had considered earlier what her response would be if someone asked. “She's a little under the weather today. It was hard, but I convinced her to stay home with the cats.”

“I heard about the police picking up that other woman for Donald's murder. I know Clara must be very relieved.”

“Oh, she is. She could hardly sit still last night. You know how excited she gets.”

Angela smiled. “I'm glad to hear it. I don't know if you'd stay here without her. I didn't like to think about my favorite pie shop closing down.”

“You don't have to worry about that.” Maggie handed her the white pastry box. “Is that it?”

Maggie rang up Angela's order first, and then the two police officers' orders. Four firemen came in, talking about a frozen pipe that had burst in one of the main roads. There had also been a fire in downtown Durham that had blazed through most of the night.

Feeling sorry for the firefighters with their exhausted, sooty faces, Maggie gave them coffee on the house, and they bought a whole cherry pie to split.

Ralph Heinz came in as the firefighters took over one of the small tables and four chairs. The older lawyer glanced around the pie shop, his eyes finally landing on Maggie.

“Can I get something for you, Mr. Heinz?”

“I was hoping to talk to Clara. Is she here this morning?”

Maggie quickly took him into the kitchen and, in hushed tones, told him what had happened. She could see the expression of shock and horror on his face. It probably looked a lot like her own.

She'd needed to talk to someone about it. She hoped he was a good choice.

“That's terrible. The police have no leads on her yet?”

“No. Not yet. It's possible the suspect the police had in custody is responsible. They had to let her go last night.”

“I'm so sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

Maggie took his hand. “Thank you so much. I'll let you know when they find her.”

“Thank you. Please be sure to keep me posted.”

“I will.”

They went back into the dining area, and Ralph ordered a latte to go. Maggie made it, and the aroma enticed two new customers to try lattes too. Ryan arrived as a line had formed at the cash register while Maggie was making lattes. He threw on an
apron, started taking money and putting pies in boxes.

They exchanged glances as Maggie took the two lattes to her customers. She was so glad to see him. She could hardly wait until they could sneak a moment alone in the kitchen.

When they could, she threw her arms around him and cried into his shoulder. “I thought she'd be back by now. I thought someone would've seen her.”

Ryan kissed her and smoothed her hair back from her face. “We're going to find her. The police have everyone out looking for her.”

“It wasn't on TV or in the papers that she was missing.”

“Captain Mitchell is keeping this quiet until they have some idea about what happened. She hasn't been gone forty-eight hours yet. Normally they don't even look until it's been that long.”

“I guess that's good.” She wiped her eyes and dried her face. “I feel like I should be doing something, Ryan. Standing around here, selling pies, seems stupid. What if she's hurt or lost? We don't know that she wasn't hit in the head too.”

“My dad said she went with the woman. He said she wasn't hurt. We have to remember that right now.”

The door to the pie shop chimed. Ryan kissed Maggie, and told her he would take care of the front. “I can do everything else but make pies.”

She laughed, thinking that was exactly what she'd told Aunt Clara when she first came back home. It had turned out not to be true. She needed her aunt. Until she thought about facing life without her, she hadn't realized how much she needed her.

“Thanks. I can handle the pies.”

“And the lattes,” he reminded her. “That coffee thing scares me.”

Maggie made ten Elegant Eggnog pies in rapid succession. She and Aunt Clara had pre-made some filling. She'd wanted to make a few of those since the last one had been taken out of the front refrigerator case. She and Aunt Clara had worked on the filling together because it was tricky and could be difficult to thicken.

There was pounding on the back door. It was Mr. Gino.

“I have those quotes for you,” he told her. “Where is Clara? Does she want the ingredients for the chicken potpies today? How about that ice cream freezer? Are you gonna have enough room in the refrigerator for the potpie stuff?”

“We aren't talking about having ice cream until summer. I want the ingredients for the chicken potpies today. We'll see about the refrigerator.”

They had a small discussion about using canned carrots. Maggie knew Aunt Clara wouldn't like that. Mr. Gino had some fresh carrots on the truck. His price was a little high.

“I can get them for cheaper at the grocery store.”

Mr. Gino slapped himself in the forehead. “You're putting me out of business. You and your aunt take advantage of the fact that I can't say no to ladies like yourselves. I'll give you the carrots at cost.”

Maggie put aside the estimates for the ice cream and freezer. She signed the invoice for everything Mr. Gino had left for them.

“So where's Clara?” His large, drooping mustache twitched when he asked again.

“She's a little under the weather. She'll be back soon.”

“That's good. I'm glad she has you now, Maggie, for these days, you know?”

Maggie nodded, afraid to say anything more for fear that she'd start crying again. Mr. Gino hugged her and left through the back door, whistling as he went.

“Everything okay back here?” Ryan peered through the open doorway from the front.

“Fine.” She sniffled a little. “I got everything to make twenty potpies for the library fund-raiser. I know Aunt Clara would want to go on with that.”

“I know you're right.” He smiled at her. “There's a man out here who wants to talk to you about one of the shops Clara rents.”

Maggie took off her apron and hung it on the
hook by the door. She glanced in the tiny mirror at the corner to make sure there was no flour on her face. She hoped it wasn't anything complicated. She didn't know if she could handle much more.

The man waiting for her was Artie Morgan. He and his friend Rick Russell were both recent Duke graduates. They ran the X-Press It store two doors down in the same shopping center.

Aunt Clara owned the property and leased the store to them. She called them the twins because they were almost the same height and weight. Both the young men had brown hair and brown eyes. Her aunt could never remember which was which.

“Nice to see you, Artie.” Maggie sat down with him. “Where's Rick?”

Artie shrugged. “He moved to Alaska. I know, right? Who does that kind of thing? His brother offered him a good job, something to do with the oil pipeline. He isn't coming back. I can't run the shop without him—and his money. Our lease is up in January. I wanted to let you and Clara know that we won't be renewing.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. What will you do?”

“I don't know. Get a job or something. It's a crazy world out there, like that guy getting shot right out here. What's up with that, huh?”

“I'm sure you'll do fine.”

“I'm not so sure, but thanks. Where is Clara? Will she be okay with this?”

“She'll be fine. She's a little under the weather today. She'll be back before you leave.” Maggie wondered how many more times today she'd have to lie about her aunt.

“Okay. Well, thanks. I'll arrange to have everything moved out. It's all leased.”

“Sure. That's sounds great.”

He got up to go and looked back at her. “You know, I felt really bad when I heard the police were going after Clara for killing that dude out there. Like she could do anything like that.”

“Thanks. The police are after someone else now.”

“You know, I told them the person I saw out there was taller and bulkier.” He made gestures with his hands to indicate the bulkiness. “Clara is much smaller, and kind of dainty, you know what I mean? Besides, I've never seen your aunt wear hot boots like that.”

“Hot boots?”

Twenty-four

Y
ou know, the
kind with the ten-inch heels and the chains—well, at least one of them had chains. Nothing against your aunt. It would just surprise me to see her dress that way.”

Maggie took no offense at his remarks. She stared at him as he left, her brain mulling over his words.

“Losing a tenant, huh?” Ryan had been listening in, of course. “That's too bad. I might know someone who's interested.”

“That would be a great solution! You could move into that space and run the
Weekly
from there.”

“We'd be a lot closer for coffee breaks!”

BOOK: Treacherous Tart
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ads

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