Treacherous Tart (2 page)

Maggie rolled her eyes at the idea and took the pie out to Aunt Clara and Donald.

“Thank you so much, Maggie.” Donald's smile
seemed warm and genuine as he took the pie from her. “Your aunt has told me all about you. I look forward to furthering our acquaintance in the future.”

“Me too.” Maggie moved away to continue closing down the pie shop for the night. She wished he wasn't trying so hard to be charming. It made it hard to dislike him. Either he was innocent or he had his act down perfectly.

“Sit with us for a minute.” Her aunt pulled out a new dark-blue chair for her. “Everything looks so wonderful in here now that the remodeling is done.”

The entire shop had recently received a much-needed face-lift, playing up Pie in the Sky's history, and its family ties to Duke University. The dark-blue school colors were echoed in the new seat covers, tile floor, and counter. The old, flat ceiling lights had been replaced by coffee-cup-shaped lights. Maggie had hung old photos taken at the school and at Pie in the Sky. It was a great touch.

Maggie didn't want to refuse her aunt. It was important to maintain her relationship with Aunt Clara through this. Even if she was worried about Donald, alienating Aunt Clara would be like handing her over to the man.

So she sat.

“Your aunt tells me you used to work in New York City.” Donald carefully chewed his pie as he spoke.

He was certainly neat and had excellent manners—
all the better to snag the ladies and kill them
, she supposed.

Ryan had said that this man preyed on older women who were well off and alone. Maybe she could say something to warn him off, to make sure he understood how things were. If he was even
thinking
about killing her aunt to get her money and property, he needed to think again.

“Now that I'm Aunt Clara's
full
partner in the pie shop, it's nice to see some new things done around here.”

“Yes,” Aunt Clara chimed in. “Maggie and I work very well together. Of course, there's going to come a time when being here five days a week at five thirty in the morning might get to be too much for me. I'm glad I'll have her to take over.”

Maggie was surprised by her aunt's words. “You've never said anything about retiring. Is something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” Clara denied. “I'm only thinking about the future.”

“Your aunt has worked hard her whole life, from what she's told me,” Donald intervened. “You have to expect she might want a nice, long rest. Maybe in the Bahamas, or Mexico. It would be good to get away from these harsh winters near the mountains.”

“Aunt Clara
loves
winter.” Maggie mangled the dish towel she held. “She loves snow and ice. And she
loves
working at Pie in the Sky.”

“You're absolutely right.” Aunt Clara put her hand on Maggie's. “And I'm not talking about right now or even tomorrow. Just someday. I'm not the spring chicken who first opened this place before you were born.”

Aunt Clara transferred her gaze and her hand to Donald with a sweet smile. “I've been learning about the fine art of enjoying life without working. One doesn't need to work hard all the time. That's why I took off early today. I deserve an occasional day off.”

Maggie could hardly believe her ears. She'd never heard her aunt sound this way. It had to be Donald. He was already setting her up to depend on him. Next, he'd convince her to marry him and then he'd be trying to figure out ways to get rid of Maggie.

She had to nip this in the bud.

“Excuse me, but
I'm
not such a lady of leisure.” Maggie got to her feet and tried to keep her tone light and airy. She didn't want to tip Donald off. “The pie shop won't close itself.”

“Go right ahead, honey.” Aunt Clara nibbled at her pie. “We'll finish up here, and Donald said he'll take us home.”

“Ryan's here.” He waved to Aunt Clara from the service window. “I'll have him take me home. You two take your time. I'll see you when I get there.”
She took the dirty coffeepots to the kitchen to be washed.

When the door between the dining room and the kitchen had swung closed behind her, Maggie's anger boiled over. “That's it. You're right. We have to find a way to tell her.”

M
aggie said good
night to Ryan in the car. She was tired when she reached the house she shared with her aunt. It was the house Maggie had grown up in after her parents had died in a terrible car wreck when she was a child.

Aunt Clara and Uncle Fred had taken her in when she was five and done their best to make her part of their family. Her aunt and uncle had no children of their own, and Maggie had become like their daughter.

The house was an older, two-story red-brick that had mellowed in the hot sun to more of a pink shade. Maggie and her aunt had painted the faded shutters and doors to a sparkling white again since she'd come back home.

It had been hard for her aunt since she'd lost Uncle Fred, who had died of a heart attack one evening a few years before, after they'd come home from the pie shop. Maggie hadn't known how hard it had been until she'd moved home again. Between her and her aunt, they'd managed to settle into a new rhythm together, and tackle things that had been ignored for a long time.

The stubborn crack in the concrete stairs leading to the house wasn't one of them. Maggie sighed as she walked past it and opened the door. She went inside, hung up her coat, and took off her boots.

Of course, Donald was still there.

He was sitting back in one of the good chairs with his long legs crossed, holding a delicate cup filled with one of Aunt Clara's fragrant teas. He looked so much at home that Maggie gritted her teeth, quickly passing by the living room and going upstairs to her bedroom. She'd have to talk to Aunt Clara later.

She took a quick shower and bundled up in her flannel pajamas and robe after she was done. A new furnace was on her list for next year. The old one was electric and left them cold most of the time. She
hoped to add a gas furnace and a couple of gas logs for the fireplace in the parlor. Just the thought of it made her feel warmer.

She was saving money for the upgrade, hoping not to have to draw the money from their savings. The pie shop was making enough money for them to survive but not enough for them to thrive. Plus, Maggie liked the idea of having a small cushion. She was a rainy-day kind of girl.

She thumbed through the pie shop trade magazines she received on a regular basis. She'd been surprised how many periodicals were dedicated to making pie. There were also some online groups that she belonged to that were very helpful in coming up with new ideas for pies and ways to promote the shop.

With Christmas upon them, Maggie had gone all out for the season. Not only were the festive decorations new, she'd also added some new recipes she and Aunt Clara had tried. Christmas had always been her favorite time of the year—it was something she and Aunt Clara shared. Maggie wanted her aunt to be happy, the same way Maggie was happy with Ryan. She wanted Ryan to be wrong about Donald even though she was afraid he might be right. The newspaper clippings were very convincing, even though there hadn't been enough evidence to arrest him.

Maggie looked out the window at the old tree
she used to climb down when she was a kid. It was dark, but in her mind's eye, she knew every branch and curve of that old oak. Uncle Fred had even assisted her mode of escape by adding various devices to help her get up and down.

The truth was that she had no way of keeping Aunt Clara completely safe. She could only tell her aunt what she knew and hope she would be wary of Donald. Donald was a black mark on the otherwise pleasant life she'd set up for herself since coming back to Durham. Though the beginning of that transition had been painful, it was completely worth it. She and Aunt Clara worked well together. The impact of their partnership was beginning to show results at the cash register. The future looked bright.

Except for Donald.

Suddenly she had a great idea.

Maggie opened her laptop as she heard Donald's hearty laugh from downstairs.

What if she could find someone who could steal Aunt Clara away from Donald? Sure, she and Ryan might be able to prove Donald was an evil opportunist who took advantage of older women, but where would that leave Aunt Clara? She'd be heartbroken and alone.

Before that happened, Maggie decided to register her aunt with a dating service. She was sure that
she could find Aunt Clara a suitable match in no time. She went to the various online sites and looked through what they had to offer. She needed a site that had some older gentlemen who might be looking for a relationship with a wonderful older woman.

She finally settled on the Durham Singles group. They showed photos of older men and women from the area. Maggie paid the reasonable fee and joined for her aunt.

It took her a solid hour to fill in all of the required information—lucky she knew her aunt so well that she didn't need to figure out how to coax any necessary details out of her. She uploaded a photo of Aunt Clara looking particularly pretty in a red dress she'd worn for a Christmas party they'd attended last week at the Business Owners' Association.

Maggie fudged on a few items. Did they really need to know her aunt's
exact
age? She decided to make her aunt a few years younger. After all, Aunt Clara was
very
youthful, and had a sprightly attitude toward life.

She added all of her aunt's interests—pie making, running her own business, reading, being a strong part of the library. She also enjoyed music. She made sure it was clear that her aunt owned Pie in the Sky. Maggie felt like that part was very important. It would be wonderful if Aunt Clara could meet another dedicated business owner, even though that
hadn't worked very well with Garrett Summerour, Ryan's father, who'd run the
Durham Weekly
newspaper for many years. Aunt Clara had declared that Garrett was too political for her tastes.

Maggie made a notation in Aunt Clara's profile for the dating service that she didn't care for politics.

There was a knock on the bedroom door. Maggie lowered her laptop cover even though her aunt never looked at a computer if she could help it.
Guilty
, she imagined.

Aunt Clara opened the door and peeked around. “Donald is gone. I didn't know if you were giving us time alone or if you were asleep, even though you never said good night. Do you want a snack before bed? I could use a little snack myself.”

This was Maggie's perfect opportunity to tell Aunt Clara the truth about Donald.

“I
am
a little hungry.” Maggie stretched and yawned as she got up from the bed, unable to resist her aunt's endless supply of delicious treats. “Maybe a
small
snack.”

In truth, Maggie had gained ten pounds since she'd started working at the pie shop again. Funny, she'd worked there through high school and while she'd attended college without gaining an ounce.

She'd only been back a few months. If she kept gaining at that rate, she'd have to find a second job working at a gym to get rid of the extra weight. She
wasn't a runner anymore, as she had been in her youth.

“I have plenty of hot cocoa and a slice of cheddar for the last piece of that new caramel apple pie we tried this week. It was good. What did you name it again?”

“Caramel Apple Without a Stick.”

“That's it!” Aunt Clara clapped her hands. She loved new pie names. “It's a great name.”

They'd already had a caramel apple pie at the shop. Maggie had added some nuts on the top and they put a pat of butter on each slice as it was served. It had become very popular.

Maggie agreed, and they went back downstairs. She could hear the old furnace gasping and wheezing. It tried its best but was too old for the job. She wished she could go ahead and retire it now, but her thrifty little soul begged her to wait.

“Did you and Donald have a good time?”

“Oh yes. He's such a dear.” Aunt Clara took out the last piece of pie for Maggie. “He didn't like cheddar on his pie. That's odd, don't you think?”

There couldn't have been a better lead-in to what Maggie wanted to say. When the hot cocoa was ready, she sat down at the small kitchen table in the kitchen.

“There may be something else odd about Donald. I haven't wanted to say anything because you've been so happy with him.”

“What is it, Maggie?” Aunt Clara sat across the table from her niece, the same table she'd once shared with her husband.

“Ryan found some information about Donald.”

“He checked up on my boyfriend?”

“It wasn't checking up exactly.” Maggie took a hasty sip of her hot cocoa. This was harder than she'd thought it would be. “Ryan had heard about him before you met him.”