Treacherous Tart (29 page)

Aunt Clara took in a big breath of cold air as Maggie closed and locked the front door. “We're going to have to get our Christmas tree up soon. I'm so glad we decorated at the shop this year. It's such an exciting Christmas.”

Maggie followed behind her aunt after a caution about the frozen sidewalks. Aunt Clara talked nonstop all the way to Pie in the Sky. The morning was cold, but the temperatures were already warming up from yesterday. They got to the pie shop twenty minutes early—a new record for Maggie.

Aunt Clara opened the door and rushed inside, switching on all the lights as she went. She took off her coat and put on her apron in one quick movement. She went to check the refrigerator and laughed out loud.

“Maggie, you baked enough to feed an army yesterday! I hope we have a crowd today.”

“And I hope there's enough coffee in the shop to keep me awake all day.” Maggie yawned.

They went through their normal routines but didn't bake any of the regular pies. Clara felt confident they didn't need to make those yet. They worked on the potpies instead.

Maggie went in at six and started the coffee. Aunt Clara looked over the figures Mr. Gino had left for them yesterday.

“What do you think we'll have to charge per scoop to make money on the ice cream?” Aunt Clara figured as Maggie wiped down the tables before customers started coming in.

“I'm not sure yet. He said he'll let us have the freezer for free—if we buy the ice cream from him.”

“We'll have to see if that's a good deal or not. We still have time to consider it before summer. Now tell me about the twins. I can't believe they're leaving.”

Maggie explained about Rick leaving, and Artie not being able to carry on without him.

“Oh, that's too bad. I'm going to miss them. I hope we'll be able to find another tenant.”

From that moment, they were hopping. Aunt Clara started baking the chicken potpies. The mouthwatering aroma filled the shop and wafted outside into the frosty morning each time the door opened. Everyone who came in demanded to know what the delicious new smell was. When they found out, they wanted either a slice or a whole pie.

There was such enthusiasm that Maggie convinced Aunt Clara that it was all right to sell them the day before the fund-raiser. They sold five pies in the first hour. Maggie called Mr. Gino for more supplies. At that rate, they would use up what they had and have to bake fresh for the library event.

This could be what Maggie had been looking for to boost their lunch crowd. That could make a huge difference in their bottom line.

Ryan came in early too. He'd left his father with the housekeeper for the day. He hugged Aunt Clara and kissed Maggie good morning before he took his coffee and sat on the stool in the kitchen.

“I'm so glad Garrett is doing better,” Aunt Clara said. “I'll have to stop by after work and take him a pie and some flowers. He was very gallant trying to save me from the kidnapper.”

“He's very happy you're home too,” Ryan told her. “I'm sure he'd be glad to see you tonight.”

“You know Garrett and I are just friends, don't you?” Aunt Clara looked concerned that he might think otherwise. “It's too soon after losing Donald to commit to anyone again.”

Ryan smiled. “I'm sure he'll be willing to wait for you.”

Maggie and Aunt Clara took orders and baked pies, as they always did. Ryan finally sat down in the crowded dining room with a piece of potpie for breakfast.

“Wow!” he said loudly as new customers came into the shop. “This new chicken potpie is awesome. I can't wait to take one home with me.” He winked at Maggie when several of the customers around him inspected what he was eating more closely.

It helped—the potpies kept selling.

When the early rush began to die away, Maggie sat with Ryan and had a soft drink with a piece of potpie. “You're right. This is going to be good for us.
We have a chance to offer something besides sweets. Thanks for the promo. Two of the people who were sitting close to you bought whole pies.”

“Now all we have to do is keep up with the demand,” Clara squawked from the service window. “What are we going to call them?”

“I'm not sure.” Maggie hadn't considered it, but she knew her aunt liked all the pies to have names. “I'll start a contest on the whiteboard out here. That will help advertise when Ryan isn't here.”

Ryan watched Maggie write on the whiteboard after Clara had returned to the kitchen. “I was worried about you after you cut me off last night. What made you decide to help Debbie get away from the police? She could be Donald's killer. She might have kidnapped your aunt.”

“It was my gut,” she said with a smile as she finished her note to their customers about the new potpie. Ryan used that excuse all the time for unexplained feelings he had.

“You don't have a gut.” He laughed. “It takes years to develop a gut. Believe me, you don't have one. What you did last night was impulse.”

“Maybe. But I think I was right, now that we know about Lenora, don't you?”

“Oh yeah. That's right.” He glanced at the service window. “Lenora Rhyne doesn't own a gun of any kind.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“You can look it up yourself. It's public record. She's never owned a gun, at least not one that she registered.”

“Maybe she's got one that's unregistered. Maybe that's why the police couldn't find anything on it.”

“That's always possible. Where do you want to go from here?”

Maggie handed him the plastic bag with the lipstick sample in it. “I got this from Aunt Clara's coat, the one she was wearing when she was kidnapped. Could you give it to Frank?”

He nodded. “This could clinch it if it matches. How is your aunt going to feel if Lenora is arrested for murder?”

“Let's not discuss that right now. When we know about the lipstick, I'll talk to her.”

Ralph Heinz came in and spent a few minutes with Aunt Clara, telling her how happy he was that she was safe.

He was no sooner out the door than Albert Mann came striding in. He removed his hat and gloves. “It's good to see you back, Clara. You know, we never discussed the possibility of you and I having dinner.”

Clara's face turned pink, but her voice was harsh when she said, “And we're not going to, Albert. I didn't join that dating service—Maggie did. Maybe you should ask
her
out for dinner!”

Maggie felt as though she deserved that. She glanced at Albert. “Pie and coffee?”

There was a chorus of disappointed groans from customers who'd been watching the show.

Albert played into it. He put his hat on and faced his audience. “I tried. That's all a man can do.

“Ryan Summerour!” Albert hailed him before joining him at his table. “I'll have coffee, Maggie, and a slice of whatever smells so good.”

Ryan had been on his cell phone. “It's the new chicken potpie, and it's great.” He lowered his voice. “What do you want, Albert? I don't want to hear you gloating about getting my property.”

“I'm not here to gloat. I'm here to offer you the same deal I would have when the building was still on the property. I'd say that's a good offer, wouldn't you?”

“Not really. I know you only want the property. This way you have less to get rid of. I think you should offer me more.”

Albert laughed and slapped Ryan on the arm. “I knew you were the one I should have been doing business with from the start. You know, your mother was always the one with the head for money. Your father, not so much.” He named another sum that was twenty percent higher than what he'd originally offered.

“That sounds better.” Ryan got to his feet. “But the fire is still being investigated as arson. I can't do anything with the property until the fire chief says so. See you around.”

Ryan smiled as he heard Albert hit his fist on the table and utter an obscenity.

“That made my day,” he told Maggie when he was in the kitchen. He hugged her. “I have to go. I'll talk to you later.”

Maggie let him out the back door, as she had Debbie the night before. She wondered if Debbie had made it out of Durham, and away from the police. She believed something would break soon that would exonerate her.

Aunt Clara was furiously making piecrust. Maggie took a few minutes to put some chicken filling into the crusts before she went back out front to take Albert his pie and top off coffee cups.

The morning went quickly. It was sliding into the slack time right before lunch when the pie shop lost the entire early-morning crowd. Business didn't pick up again until the late-afternoon customers. It was a time when they didn't make much money, but Maggie and her aunt enjoyed the break.

But Maggie remained hopeful that the potpies would change all that, although it might mean hiring someone to help if they got much busier.

The woman from the library fund-raiser called late that morning to make sure everything was in order. Aunt Clara told her they'd come up with something special. She didn't say that she meant to kill any competition from Lenora's pies, but Maggie could hear that between the lines.

“Have you and Lenora
ever
really been friends?” Maggie asked her aunt after she was off the phone.

“Of course. We've always been the jealous, underhanded kind of friends that you read about and see in the movies. I should've broken it off long ago, but that would mean being the first one to admit defeat.”

“If you wait much longer, it won't matter.” Maggie laughed.

“I suppose you're right. I don't know if I can make the first move—especially after this latest affront. I know it wasn't her fault. She couldn't help herself.”

Maggie helped her take out a tray of pies and put them on the cooling rack. Mr. Gino knocked at the back door with their much-needed supplies. He hugged Aunt Clara and spent five minutes telling her how much he'd missed her.

Maggie was wondering if Mr. Gino was going to be the next one dating her aunt when her cell phone rang.

T
hanks for the
lipstick sample,” Frank said. “This could help with the case. I take it Ryan told you about the lipstick on Mr. Wickerson's jacket lapel.”

“He did.”

“Don't clean that coat that you got this from. I'll send someone over to pick it up. How's Clara this morning?”

“I couldn't keep her home.” Maggie bit her tongue before she said anything about Lenora. “Thanks. Let me know how it goes.”

She was going to have to find some excuse about Aunt Clara's coat going missing. She took it from the hook in the kitchen when her aunt wasn't looking and put it near the front door of the pie shop. A police officer came in a short while later and picked it up with gloved hands, dropping it into a large plastic bag.

Aunt Clara didn't notice.

“I'm going to get lunch at the sub shop,” Maggie told her aunt. “I thought I'd go while it's slow. The way those potpies are selling, we may be busy later today.”

“I've thought of a name,” her aunt said. “Chubby Chicken potpies. That's if no one else comes up with something better.”

Maggie scrunched up her face. “I guess that could work. I'm hoping people will write down other suggestions on the whiteboard. It may take a few days.”

“Okay. We'll see.”

What was she going to do about her aunt's missing coat? It wouldn't matter until it was time to go home tonight, but it would really matter then.

Straining her brain on how to explain the loss of the coat, Maggie walked to the sub shop. She saw Ryan talking to the fire chief in front of what was left of the
Durham Weekly
building. He glanced her way and then shook the fire chief's hand before starting toward her.

“I hope you're on your way to get lunch,” he said. “I'm starving.”

“You're in luck. I thought I'd get
you
something for a change.”

“Maybe I should go home and shower first.” He looked down at himself. “Walking through a burned-out building isn't as exciting as it seems.”

“You can get washed up at the pie shop, if you want. Or I'll save your sandwich for you. Did you find out anything else about the fire?”

“Not much. Even if a homeless man did it, the building is still gone.”

Maggie gingerly touched his arm. Flecks of soot and ash flew off of him. “Maybe I'm wrong about the shower thing. Or you should at least change clothes. I don't know if I want you dragging all this ash and stuff into the pie shop.”

He brushed off his jacket and sneezed as debris went everywhere. “I think you're right. I'll drop you at the sub shop and go home for a shower and a change of clothes. It'll give me a chance to check up on Dad too. I'll be back soon.”

He bent his head as though he planned to kiss her.