Treacherous Tart (27 page)

“Lenora, my aunt's friend.” Maggie looked at the photos.

“Yes. I think Donald had made his choice right before he died. Something spooked him about your aunt. He was circling Lenora. She was lonely. She had money. I'm sure, if he'd survived, she would've been his next victim.”

The lattes were finished. Maggie gave one to Debbie/Fran and then sat down at the table with her coffee. “Ryan—the reporter—can't leave his father—another victim of my aunt's kidnapping
last night. I was thinking we could use my phone to Skype with him, if that's okay?”

Debbie was fine with that. Maggie called Ryan using Skype. He answered right away, his face grainy and almost comical on the small screen.

“What's up?” he asked. “Are you home yet?”

Maggie explained the circumstances. “I thought we could talk to Debbie this way.”

Ryan was clearly upset about this idea. He didn't come right out and ask if Maggie was in any danger, but he hedged all around it.

“Look.” Debbie stopped him. “I'm not here to hurt anyone. I'm scared to death. You should've heard the incredible story they were creating about me killing Donald. I don't stand a chance against that.”

“Did you kill him?” Ryan asked.

“No. I wanted to find my mother's killer. That's all. I got caught up in Donald's newest scheme. I thought I could use it to my advantage, but it backfired on me.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I have to ask the hard questions too. Go ahead. Tell us what happened.” Ryan waited to hear what she had to say.

Debbie and Maggie were sitting with their heads close together so they could both be on the screen.

“I moved to Durham about six months ago to follow him around.” Debbie shrugged. “He's always on
the move. I have skills that make it easy to get a new job quickly. I didn't waste any time getting a free coupon to the salon into his hands. I did everything I could to keep him coming back.”

“And he didn't know you, didn't recognize you?” Ryan asked.

“No. I used a different name. I left Fran Belk behind. I was a kid when he was married to my mother in Georgia. He didn't have a clue who I was.”

“So you started following him around?” Ryan nudged her story along.

“Yes. How else would I get information about him? He didn't spend all of his time at the salon. That's why I signed up at Durham Singles after he told me that he had signed up, looking for a lucky lady. He said the woman he was dating wasn't working out. He was looking for someone new.”

Ryan glanced at Maggie. “Probably not Aunt Clara. He hadn't been seeing her that long.”

Maggie agreed. “So far it sounds like he was following his familiar pattern.”

“Yes.” Debbie sat forward, eyes alert. “I was afraid he was going to get married and kill someone else again. I started chasing him. I ate lunch with him a few times. I thought maybe I could distract him, throw him off course. I was hoping he'd come after me. That would have been sweet! But he wasn't interested.”

“Betty's Subs.” Maggie nodded at Ryan.

“You probably weren't old enough or dependent
enough,” Ryan agreed. “I'm assuming you don't have an alibi for the time Donald was killed?”

Debbie shook her well-kept mane of hair. “I should've been at work, but I had this awful headache. I sent email messages to my clients, and I stayed home that day. I know. Not much of an alibi, but it's true.”

“I believe you,” Maggie told Debbie.

“Thanks. I'm so sorry about your aunt. I hope you can find her.”

“I hope so too.”

“Hold on a minute. Debbie knew about Pie in the Sky, Maggie,” Ryan argued. “She was following us around at the winter carnival. I don't know how much harder it would have been to set Clara up for Donald's murder—or to kidnap her.”

“If you'd take a look at my files,” Debbie urged him, “you'd see that wasn't what I was going for.”

“I'm afraid it's not that simple now,” Ryan told her.

Debbie put everything back in her file. “Please. Can we meet somewhere? I have more information that you can put into your newspaper as a follow-up to your other stories. If I don't get it to you now, the police could call it evidence, and you'll never see it.”

Maggie sat back in her chair. “I know Frank thinks he has the right person, but I think he's wrong. I know she seems guilty, but it doesn't feel right. I still think whoever killed Donald knew Aunt
Clara personally. They need to take another look at Lenora. She fits the bill.”

“We don't get to make those decisions,” Ryan said. “You should get her out of there.”

“Since when don't
you
make decisions on who you think is guilty?”

As Maggie spoke, two police cars pulled in front of the pie shop, their blue lights flashing.

“Sorry,” Ryan said.

Maggie couldn't believe it. “You called the police?”

“Clara is already missing,” he argued. “I didn't want anything to happen to you too.”

“How am I ever going to prove I didn't do this if I'm in jail?” Debbie shoved the file into Maggie's hands. “Keep this for me. If they take me in, I'll lose it.”

“All right.” Maggie hid the file behind the counter. “There's a way out the back. Come with me.”

Maggie could hear Ryan yelling out warnings at her from Skype. She quickly shut off the phone and ushered Debbie out the back door, closing and locking it behind her.

Two police officers knocked on the front door. Maggie answered, trying to appear bewildered about why they'd been called there.

“We got a tip that Debbie Blackwelder was here.” Jack Harding looked around the dining room. “Have you seen her this evening?”

“No,” Maggie lied. “I was just closing up.”

Her phone rang persistently. She knew it was Ryan. If he was going to warn her not to go out on a limb for Debbie, he was too late.

The officers carefully searched through the pie shop. When they were satisfied that Debbie wasn't there, Officer Harding thanked Maggie.

“Any word on Aunt Clara yet?” she asked him.

“I'm sorry, no,” Officer Harding said. “Captain Mitchell wanted to question Ms. Blackwelder about your aunt's disappearance.”

“Are you
sure
you haven't seen her?” the other officer asked, eyeballing the dining room again.

“Yes.” It was all Maggie could do not to rush over and cover the two coffee cups on the table.

It's okay. You told them you were closing up. You weren't finished cleaning yet.

“Take care.” Officer Harding tipped his hat to her. “Someone will notify you if we hear anything about your aunt.”

Maggie thanked them. She didn't take a breath until they were gone. She wondered if Debbie had gotten away. She hoped she'd made the right decision to help her.

She didn't waste any time getting out of there. The sidewalks were becoming icy again, so she walked home carefully. She tried not to think about Aunt Clara, thinking instead about the pie shop, and the new line of potpies that their customers were going to love.

It didn't really help, but it was a small distraction from her worries and fears. Ryan kept calling her until she finally turned the phone off and stuck it in her bag.

Exhausted, more by the emotional upheaval of the day than the physical exertion, Maggie was glad to see her home come into view. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, David surprised her, reaching out to grab her arm.

“Someone was looking for you,” he said. “You'll never guess who's waiting in my kitchen.”

A
unt Clara!” Maggie
ran to her aunt's side. “Are you all right? Should we call an ambulance? Where were you? When did you get back?”

Wrapped in a blanket, Clara looked smaller and more fragile than ever. Her hair was a complete mess, standing up in little orange tufts all over her head. She had a cup of tea in one hand.

“For goodness' sake, I'm fine,” she assured her niece. “I was sitting out on the steps, waiting for you to get home. David found me and brought me here. I seem to have lost my keys. I couldn't even get in my
own house. It's a good thing I'm not very old yet. People would start thinking I was losing it.”

Maggie hugged her tightly, refusing to let go, as she sobbed all over her. “You should probably see a doctor. Do you know what happened to you?”

“Would you like some tea or coffee?” David asked her.

“No, thanks.” Maggie's mind was a whirl. She wasn't sure what to think or do next.

Did someone take Aunt Clara, or did she just wander off? Had she been hurt too, contrary to what Garrett had said? Should she bundle her into a taxi and take her to the hospital? Or maybe David would take them.

“Of course I know what happened to me,” Aunt Clara said with some irritation. “Someone kidnapped me. I've already bored David with this story. Can we go home now?”

“You're sure you're okay?” Maggie helped her aunt up. She didn't seem like someone who'd been kidnapped. She didn't seem scared at all. Aunt Clara took David's arm. “Thank you for your help. It was getting a little cold out there. The tea was delicious.”

“I'll be glad to help you to your house,” David volunteered. “I could probably carry you.”

Clara took a step back. “That's fine. I can walk. I'm not a cripple, you know. Good night, David.”

Maggie muttered another quick thanks to her
childhood friend. She and Aunt Clara left David's house and carefully went to their own.

“Do you need help getting up the stairs?” Maggie asked her.

“Why is everyone treating me this way? I can get up the stairs. I do it at least once every day. Your uncle used to say it was good for you. Can we get inside now? I really want a hot bath and my bed.”

Maggie walked up with her aunt anyway. She opened the front door. Fanny and all the kittens were waiting for them. Her aunt stopped to talk to them for a moment, and stroked them until they were all purring and rubbing her ankles.

“How was it at the shop today?” Aunt Clara asked. “Were you very busy?”

“Okay. That's it. You were kidnapped, and you're asking me how my
day
was?” Maggie was angry and frustrated.

Aunt Clara blinked. Her mouth trembled. Tears formed in her eyes.

“I'm sorry.” Maggie hugged her. “I'm so sorry. I've just been so worried about you, I could hardly breathe. And now you're acting like nothing much happened. I don't understand.”

“I can explain.”

Maggie took a deep breath and looked down at her. “Let's do that. Before you take a hot bath or anything else. Let's sit down in the kitchen and talk, okay?”

“All right.” Clara's tone was long-suffering. “I'm a little hungry. Do we have any of that soup left from last week?”

Maggie heated up the soup and put some in a bowl. Aunt Clara had removed the blanket. Outside of looking tired and a little smudged, her aunt seemed to be all right.

“
Mmm.
Good.” Aunt Clara had some of the soup. “I'm sure you know that Garrett and I were coming in the house when we were attacked. Someone stepped out of the shadows on the porch, and hit him in the head. I hope he's all right. I hadn't even thought to ask.”

“He's fine. What happened next?”

“I didn't see the person. Whoever it was put a hood over my head in the dark and held something to my back—maybe a gun. I'm not sure. We went down the stairs and got into a car. We drove around for a while and finally stopped. We got out of the car and went into another house.”

“And you couldn't see anything at all?”

“No. It was totally dark. And the hood smelled bad. I was too terrified to even move. I kept wondering who would do this sort of thing to me. And I was worried about Garrett. It was awful, Maggie. I kept thinking about you and Fred. I didn't know if I was ever going to see you again.”

Maggie could see where Clara's calm demeanor
simply masked her fear. She'd been brought up that way. A lady didn't give into her fear. She faced it, stuck out her chin, and pretended she wasn't afraid at all.

“I sat alone in a room for a long time, tied to a chair. I think they used stockings to tie me. The knots felt tight but didn't chafe. I heard voices arguing, but they were muffled. I think they were in another room. I can't be sure. I don't know how long I was there.”

Maggie watched as her aunt finished her soup. “Were they mean to you?” It was as close as she could come to asking if the person had done anything really bad to her.

“Oh no. Not at all. I used the restroom, which was completely embarrassing knowing there was another person with me. I went back and sat in the chair again. I wasn't tied up after that.”

“How did you get away?”