Murder in Maine

by Danielle Collins

  “I work on the line.”

  “I see,” she said, though she had no idea what that meant. “What type of strange things?”

  His neck reddened. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I just… I don’t know. It’s weird.”

  “I’m a naturally curious person,” Margot said with a convincing smile.

  He looked to Shelly and then back at Margot. “I mean I just wouldn’t want this to get out.”

  “I don’t even know anyone at the factory,” she said with another smile. “And I'm not going to be here for much longer.” At least she hoped that was the case. She missed Adam and her shop.

  He slumped down into a chair and Shelly motioned for Margot to join them at the table while she went to put on water for tea. “I mean, I don’t know if it’s that strange, but I take the early shift. It’s five to two and then I get to come home. Not a bad shift, if you ask me.” He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “But I’ve started to notice people who don’t belong. They are at the yard during our breaks and just look…shady.”

  Margot could envision the type of men he was talking about.

  “Are they there every day?”

  “Nah, not every day. But they keep talking to two fellows from the crew I’m a part of. I don’t know. The guy… He just gives me the creeps.”

  Margot’s mind supplied an image of a burly Russian man who looked like he had ties to the mafia. She knew she was exaggerating on what he would look like, but it sounded more and more like this had something to do with Petrov.

  “Did they say any names? Like the name of this man?”

  By the look that Craig gave her, she’d asked too specific of a question, and yet she couldn’t help it. She needed to know.

  “I, uh… Why do you want to know?”

  Margot toyed with how much she should tell them. If she mentioned Petrov’s name, she ran the risk of Craig saying it at work and potentially putting him in danger. But she also needed to know if Craig knew anything else.

  As she weighed what she could say, Shelly turned a questioning gaze on Margot. “It feels like there’s something you’re not telling us.”

  “I can’t say exactly why I’m so interested in this,” she began, choosing her words carefully, “but my curiosity is founded.”

  Shelly’s head tilted to one side as if she were weighing the truth of what Margot was saying. Then she turned to her brother. “Have you?”

  His eyes widened. “I…” He turned to look at Margot, “I haven’t heard them say anything.”

  She felt her shoulders droop, but she nodded. “Thanks for trusting me.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” he said, still looking cautious, “but I don’t think telling you I haven’t heard something is really giving anything away.”

  “Point taken.” She stood, picking up her scarf from the back of her chair. “Thanks for showing me your lovely home.”

  “You don't have to go,” Shelly said, casting a glance at her brother. “I’m still making tea and I can promise you my rude brother will be nice.” She flashed a smile at him.

  “Oh, it’s not that. I really should get back to the bakery. Have a lovely evening and I look forward to working with you on some pastries soon. My apologies if my questions were out of line.”

  “Nah.” Craig tossed a hand her way. “I’m probably just worried for no reason.”

  Shelly walked with her to the door. “I’m sorry. I hope he didn’t offend you.”

  “Not at all,” Margot said, flashing a genuine smile at the young woman. “I was nosy. I’ve been told by many that I'm too nosy for my own good.”

  “Thanks again for the lesson today. It was really helpful.”

  “You’re a very good baker,” Margot said, patting Shelly on the shoulder. “Have a good night.”

  Margot headed back toward the bakery, glad that there were still a fair amount of people out. This time, she paid close attention to her surroundings just in case a black SUV made an attempt to run her over again. She made it back to the bakery without incident and made her way up to Dexter’s room, hoping that he was back. She had some questions she needed answers to.

  “You’ve got to stop going off without telling me,” Dexter said, doing his best to look stern.

  She smiled and walked past him, heading to his electric water pot to make a cup of tea. “I’m sorry, but I was walking with Shelly.” Then she told him about their conversation and what her brother had said.

  “Do you think he suspects that you are looking into something? Like, something you shouldn’t?”

  “If you mean to ask if he suspects me of doing something illegal, I don’t think so. But I am beginning to suspect that iron plant has more to do with all of this than we realized. I have a feeling the man he’s been seeing is either Petrov or someone working with him.”

  “But why?” Dexter swiveled in his char, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “There is nothing about this plant. It’s been in operation for fifty something years, or something like that, and it’s above board. No scandals surrounding it or its leadership in at least twenty years. And it’s not like they could get away with a lot. I mean, it’s a small town.”

  “I know,” Margot said, settling onto the futon that served as Dexter’s couch. “I just think that it’s part of all of this. The mention of strange men meeting with the workers sounds suspicious, don’t you think?”

  “Well sure, but maybe this Petrov guy is recruiting.”

  “Maybe.” Margot had thought as much but it seemed odd that he would keep coming back to the plant if he’d already recruited men to his side. What else could it be?

  “I think we need to go out and talk to your sister again.”

  Dexter’s head swiveled toward her. “Really?”

  “Yes.” Margot took a sip. “Maybe she can shed some more light—at least until Adam gets back to us with more information.”

  “We could say we’re going to Portland for a movie or something.”

  “That’s a good idea. Why don’t you ‘happen’ to go downstairs to make sure everything is working well and then mention our plans?”

  He nodded and, after tapping a few more keys, he stood. “Why don’t we leave early? There’s a great restaurant on the edge of town we can go to that my sister loves. We’ll bring dinner for all of us.”

  “Should we contact Peter first?”

  Dexter’s smile grew wide. “Nah. Let’s let him worry a little.”

  “You’re terrible,” she said with a laugh.

  “Hey, she’s my sister. I’ve got a right to torment the guy she’s dating.”

  Margot wanted to say something about the ring indention she’d seen, but decided against it. “Sounds like a plan.”

  A little less than an hour later, they had enough food to feed a small army and were making their way back down the lonely roads toward Peter’s cabin. Dexter had artfully laid the idea that they were going to a movie and was careful to make sure now one had followed them.

  When they pulled up to the cabin, Peter stepped out not looking happy. “What are you guys doing back here?

  “Came to see the sis,” he said with a wink. “And we brought dinner.”

  “You brought Mo’s!” Danielle said, racing out of the house. “I could smell it all the way inside.”

  “Hey, I was making pasta.”

  “Babe, it’s Mo’s. Nothing is better than that.”

  Peter gave an exaggerated eye-roll and then helped Dexter carry in the rest of the food. They ate their fill of the amazing food and then Margot went into the kitchen with Danielle as Dexter helped Peter chop more wood for the fire.

  “Danielle,” Margot began, knowing they only have a few minutes before they would be interrupted. “Is there something you haven’t told us? Anything at all?”

  Danielle paused, her hand reaching out toward the faucet. “What do you mean?”

  “I know you disappeared in order to keep your brother safe, but is the
re something else you’re keeping from us that could help us figure out what’s going on?”

  The woman crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the counter. “There is one thing,” she said, biting her lip before continuing. “I didn’t want to say it because I know how Dex gets and I'm afraid he’s going to get himself into more than he can handle.”

  “I’ve got a friend who’s helping us and I really think it’s in your best interest to give us all the information you have. Though I assume you already told Peter.”

  She nodded, confirming Margot’s assumption. “I didn’t leave after I saw Vlad the first time.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I actually saw him pass over something—probably money—to one of the workers at the iron factory. I was on the way home from a walk and happened to see it. I could only assume it was payment for something. I almost tripped on a stray cat though and that drew attention toward me.”

  “So it wasn't that he recognized you so much as you saw something you shouldn’t.”

  She nodded. “I didn’t want to Dex to worry…”

  “Too late,” he said, stepping into the kitchen.

  “Dexter—”

  “No.” He held up his hand. “I don’t like it when you treat me like a little boy. I worked for the FBI, for goodness sake.”

  “You what?” Peter’s eyebrows rose.

  “You didn’t tell him?” Dexter looked frustrated, but looked over at Peter. “I’ll tell you the story sometime—if she keeps you around.” His joking manner was back but Margot had a feeling he was still hurt but it all.

  “Look,” she said, breaking the tension, “I think whatever we’re dealing with has something to do with iron factory.”

  “Not just the workers?” Peter said.

  “No. I think it’s more than that, but we’ll have to find out what exactly.”

  “How are we supposed to do that?” Dexter asked.

  “I’m not exactly sure,” she said, though a plan was already forming in her mind. “But I think I’ll know soon.”

  Chapter 12

  When they finally left the cabin, it wasn’t too late but late enough to align with the story they had told about going to a movie. Dexter had checked the times just to be safe. They drove in silence for a while before he spoke up.

  “I can’t believe she didn’t tell us everything. Why does she still treat me like a child?”

  “Dexter, you’ve got to see it from her perspective. There isn’t much she can do to keep you safe. She did what she could so that she would protect you. It was done out of compassion, not that she didn’t think you were able to handle the news.”

  “But she trusts Peter.”

  Margot let out a sigh. “I think she would try and protect him as well if she could.”

  “You’re probably right.” Dexter turned right and pulled to a stop at a light.

  Margot reached to angle the vent toward her, her gaze sliding outside to the parking lot to their right. Her gaze collided with Danika.

  “Oh,” she said involuntarily.

  “What?” Dexter’s gaze jerked to the side. “Is that…Danika?”

  “Yes.” Margot couldn’t fight the feeling that the woman knew where they had been. She was standing next to her car, a bag of groceries in one hand and her keys in the other. In what looked like a forced move, she lifted the hand with the keys and waved.

  Margot swallowed and waved back, feeling very conspicuous, just as the light changed.

  “Whew,” she said, leaning back.

  “Do you think she’s involved in all of this?”

  Margot took a moment to tell him about the money she’d found while the woman got a resupply of bandages for her.

  “You went snooping in her desk?” He sounded incredulous.

  “I didn’t really do too much snooping. I saw her put the envelope in and, when she left the room, I took a peek.”

  “Still, what if she’d come in and found you in her desk drawer?”

  “I would have thought of something,” Margot said, trying to keep things light.

  Dexter shook his head and executed a turn onto a street just as lights blared at Margot from the passenger side. She opened her mouth to scream just as Dexter yanked the wheel to the side. His front tire hopped up on the curve and the motion threw Margot to the side until the truck came to a stop.

  She looked up just in time to see a black SUV tuning. There were two people in front, each wearing a frightening Halloween mask. The vehicle righted itself and sped off into the night but not before Margot remembered to look for the license plate. There, hanging down and covering all but the first two letters, was a severed arm. It was clearly a fake Halloween prop, but it affectively covered the plate without appearing to do so purposefully.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Dexter said, slamming his hand on the steering wheel.

  Margot’s heart was still pounding and she rested her hand on her chest. “That was close.”

  “Too close.”

  “What is going on into his town?” Dexter shook his head. “I guess we should call Peter.”

  Margot agreed and, after Dexter maneuvered off the sidewalk, he called the detective, who said he would be there in twenty minutes.

  It took at least a half an hour for him to come and, once he did, he admitted there wasn’t much he could do. He took their statements and said he would put in the report, but without any evidence and without any damage, it was more of a formality.

  He did end up driving behind them back to the bakery where he insisted on going in and doing a sweep just to be sure. Then, at the stoop with his hand on his gun in the holster, he looked at them both.

  “Be careful. Lock your doors and don’t go out alone. It’s obvious that something is going on and you’ve been targeted. I don’t know if these people know that you have information from Danielle or whatever it is, but it’s getting to the point where I think you should consider going back home, Margot.”

  She felt the prick to her pride. She didn’t want to go home with a case still active, but it was becoming clear that it was dangerous, not only for her but own Dexter too. Would they stop if she left? Would they think they’d won? Or would they continue to target Dexter as well?

  Not to mention the fact that she hadn’t come to the bottom of what was happening. She had found Danielle, which technically fulfilled why she’d come to Maine, but she couldn’t leave knowing something else was going on.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said diplomatically.

  Peter seemed to know that she wasn’t going to go, but he didn't push. Instead, he said good night and left, giving them a last glance as if to make sure that Dexter had heard what he said and locked the door behind him.

  “I’m sorry, Margot,” Dexter said as they trudged up the stairs like their home team had been defeated. “I had no idea all of this would happen. It’s clearly not safe for you to be here. I think Peter is right, and you should go back to North Bank.”

  “Do you honestly believe that?”

  He stopped at the landing and turned to face her. “Look, I know you’re stubborn, Adam’s told me enough stories about that, but I don’t think it’s smart to risk your life on something we can’t even prove is happening. All we have is my sister’s word that some Russian guy named Vlad Petrov is here in town doing something with the iron factory. That’s not even illegal.”

  “You can’t forget that there was a dead body found in your sister’s bakery, the identity of the man who died has been erased, and he was a private investigator on this case. Not to mention the fact that I was nearly run over.” She held up her hands as evidence. “There is definitely something going on. Besides, I won’t make any decisions until I hear from Adam.”

  Dexter let out a resigned breath. “Okay. That seems fair. But don’t say I didn’t give you the option to leave.”

  “Of course not. And don’t worry,” she said with a smile and a wink, “I’ll make sure Adam knows that you were with
me this time when my life was threatened.”

  Dexter’s eyes grew round. “He’s going to kill me.”

  The next morning, Margot woke up early out of habit and decided to join Dexter in the kitchen. She couldn’t do much, but she did help organize the things she could. She and Dexter ended up having a playful banter through the whole morning prep and baking time. The other employees seemed to enjoy it as much as she and Dexter did.

  It felt like old times and Margot realized the ache in her heart was from missing Adam and her shop. Holding up a bandaged hand, she told the workers she’d be right back and pulled her phone from her back pocket.

  Dexter watched her like a hawk, likely thinking she was going to disappear again, but she signaled she would be upstairs instead. He nodded in understanding and then went back to the pastry crust he was rolling out.

  Pressing the phone icon on her shop’s contact info, she waited expectantly.

  “The Parisian Pâtisserie, this is Rosie speaking.”

  “Rosie!”

  “Is that Miss Margot?”

  “Yes, Rosie, it’s me.”

  “It is so good to hear your voice.”

  “Why? Is something wrong?”

  Rosie’s booming laugh made Margot smile despite her worry. “No, honey. Nothing’s wrong at all. I just miss ya is all. When are you planning on coming back to us? I think that boyfriend of yours is lonely. He’s been in at least once a day—sometimes more.”

  It was Margot’s turn to laugh. “Has he really?”

  “Sure enough. That boy is skin and bones. I’ve been trying to fatten him up for ya, but he just runs it all off.”

  Margot could envision Adam and knew he was decidedly not skinny. Handsome, yes, but definitely not skinny.

  “You are impossible, Rosie Mae.”

  “That’s what my momma told me.” Her rich chuckle came through over the line and Margot smiled.

  “It’s good to hear your voice, friend.”

  “You too, honey. But really, when are you coming back?”