by Josie Belle
“Who’s in the hospital?” Michael asked.
“You,” Joanne said.
Michael gave her a funny look, and then his face cleared, and he said, “You’re teasing me.”
Joanne sighed and patted his hand. “Just so.”
Michael’s face looked pale and tired under the bandage wrapped around his head, and he closed his eyes and seemed to drift to sleep. Maggie gave Joanne a worried look, but Joanne shook her head.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “He’s been doing that on and off since he woke up.”
“I’m sorry, ladies, but visiting hours are over,” a nurse said as she entered the room.
“So soon?” Joanne asked.
The nurse gave her a sympathetic look. “I promise to keep a very close watch on him.”
“Thank you,” Joanne said.
“I’ll give you some alone time,” Maggie said. She slipped out of the room with a wave and made her way back to the waiting room.
The others were still there. She noted that they were sitting and not pacing anymore. She took an empty seat next to Sam.
“So, Michael’s still at the ball,” she said.
“Yup, and he didn’t approve of my attire,” Sam said.
“Mine either,” Maggie said. “He was very concerned that I’d miss out on the mini quiches.”
They shared an awkward chuckle.
“At least he’s awake,” Sam said.
“How long will you give him?” Maggie asked. “You know, before you have to tell him.”
“I don’t know,” Sam said. He sounded reluctant, and Maggie suspected he would much rather be operating with absolutes, such as knowing that Michael would remember everything tomorrow.
The doors to the waiting room opened and Joanne stepped through. She looked happy with a side of fretful, and Maggie knew it was worrying her to leave Michael when he had just woken up.
“He’ll be all right,” Ginger said. She hugged Joanne, and said, “I’m babysitting you tonight, and I promise we’ll call the hospital every half hour to check on him if you want.”
Joanne’s eyes got watery, and she hugged Ginger close. “Thanks. I’d say I’ll be all right on my own, but it would be a big fat lie.”
“I can stay with you, too,” Claire said as she joined the embrace, which for Claire was big, as she wasn’t a hugger as a rule.
“Me, too,” Maggie offered, jumping into the group hug.
“Aw, thanks,” Joanne sniffled. “You gals are the best, but I think it might be good if we work you all in on a rotating basis. I don’t know how long this will go on, and I don’t want you to get sick of babysitting me.”
The four of them stood in a huddle with their arms around one another.
“Sounds like a plan,” Claire said.
“We’re going to get through this,” Ginger said.
“Remember,” Maggie said, “it’s one for all and all for one, unless it’s a two-for-one sale on Italian shoes, and then it’s every girl for herself.”
Joanne laughed as Maggie had hoped she would, and the huddle broke up. Sam stood watching them with a look of bemusement, and Maggie moved to stand beside him.
“Ready to go?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. He led her toward the door, and Maggie felt the others fall in behind them. Then he leaned close, and whispered so only she could hear him, “It really is going to be okay.”
Maggie squeezed his arm to let him know she’d heard him and appreciated it.
Once they reached the parking lot, they waved to the others, and Sam opened the passenger door for her. Maggie’s phone rang as she was getting into the car. She fished it out of her purse and saw Max’s number.
While Sam circled the car to get in, she answered, “Hello?”
“Maggie, it’s Max.”
“Hi, Max. What’s up?”
“I’m not sure, but I think I might have a lead on where Diane Jenkins is from,” he said.
Chapter 18
“Really?” Maggie asked. “How?”
“Bianca and I were talking about what happened at the deli, and she said something about Diane being from New England,” Max said. “I asked her how she knew that, and she said when they had a conversation at the ball, Diane said something about missing coffee milk.”
Maggie glanced at Sam as he got into the car beside her and started up the engine. When he glanced at her, she mouthed the name Max, and he nodded.
“You’ve lost me,” she said into the phone. “First of all, what is coffee milk?”
“I know, right?” Max asked. “I’d never heard of it either, but as a kid Bianca spent a summer in Newport, Rhode Island, studying classical piano at a music conservatory, and she remembered that the locals all drink the stuff. It’s like chocolate milk but they make it with a coffee-flavored syrup instead.”
“Weird,” Maggie said.
“Yeah,” Max agreed. “Anyway, Bianca said that when she met Diane at the ball, she caught a trace of her accent and asked her if she’d ever had coffee milk. She said Diane looked wistful and said it was one of the things she missed most from home.”
“So, Diane is from New England?” Maggie asked. She saw Sam’s head whip around to stare at her, and she held up her hand to indicate that she was still listening and to hold his questions.
“More specifically, she’s from Rhode Island, or at least she lived there at one time,” Max said. “Coffee milk is apparently a Rhode Island thing.”
“Huh. That’s amazing,” Maggie said. “Nice work, Max.”
“I was going to call Sam, but I don’t have his direct number, and a little bird named Laura told me you were having dinner with him. How’s that going, by the way?”
Maggie felt her face get warm. She was so not used to being in a relationship and having people ask her about it.
“Very well, thank you,” she said. “In fact, he’s right here, so I’ll just go and tell him what you told me. Probably, he’s going to want to talk to Bianca and see if she remembers anything else.”
“We figured. Tell him to call my cell whenever,” Max said. “Bye, Maggie.”
“Bye, Max, and thanks.”
Sam stopped the car in front of her house and turned to face her. “I get the feeling you’re about to make my day.”
“Could be,” she said with a smile. Then she told him what Max had told her. Sam didn’t interrupt but listened intently, frowning a bit as he did.
When Maggie was finished, he looked at her and asked, “Have you ever heard of coffee milk?”
“No.”
Sam got out of the car and circled around the hood to Maggie’s side. He opened the door for her and Maggie climbed out. Sam put his arm around her as he walked her to the door.
“Want to come in for dessert?” she asked.
Sam looked at her with his eyebrows raised, and she laughed. “I meant pecan pie.”
He leaned forward and kissed her.
“Tempting,” he said when he stepped back. “Very tempting. But I think I’m going to head back to the station and see what I can find out about any women missing from Rhode Island who fit Diane Jenkins’s description.”
“I figured,” Maggie said. “Do you think it’s too flimsy of a lead?”
Sam shrugged. “Sometimes an entire case will turn on the tiniest bit of information.”
“Good luck,” Maggie said. “I hope you find something.”
“Me, too. Call you tomorrow?”
Maggie nodded. Sam stood watching her until she closed the door behind her. She waved from the window as he got back into his car and reversed out of her driveway. With a return wave he was gone. For a second, she stood frozen in time. She remembered being exactly here in this spot waving to her late husband, Charlie, as he left.
She closed her eyes and sighed. It had been almost twenty years, but still the shock of losing Charlie hit her low and deep. Was she crazy to be dating the sheriff? To take a chance on losing a man that she lo—cared f
or . . . Maggie thought she must be out of her mind.
A hand landed on her shoulder, and she jumped and let out a yelp as she whipped around to find Laura standing behind her.
“Sorry,” Laura said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay,” Maggie said. “I was just thinking.”
“That dating a police officer is risky, and you don’t want to go through what you went through when dad was killed?”
Maggie frowned. “Was I thinking out loud?”
“No, I just figured that had to occur to you at some point, and given that Sam just drove off, probably to work on solving Diane’s murder, well, it seemed likely that you’d be thinking that.”
“How exactly did you get so smart?”
“Quality genetic material.”
Maggie laughed and hugged her daughter close.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“How have things been at the shop?” Maggie asked.
“Busy,” Laura said. “Which is great, because it keeps my mind off . . . you know.”
“How about we have a girls’ night with popcorn and a Gilmore Girls marathon?” Maggie asked.
“Oh, I’d love to, but I have a date,” Laura said.
It was then that Maggie noticed her daughter was wearing her favorite black leather boots over skinny jeans and a deep purple jersey knit top.
“Are those my skinny jeans?” Maggie asked.
“Maybe,” Laura said with a sheepish shrug. “Hey, if you don’t want me to borrow your clothes don’t have such fabulous taste in just my size.”
Maggie chuckled and then frowned. “It’s kind of late to be just going out, isn’t it?”
“It’s only nine thirty,” Laura said. “We’re going to see a band over at the Daily Grind.”
“A band is playing at Pete’s coffee shop?” Maggie tried to picture this.
“Yeah, they asked to have a CD launch party there, and Pete said yes. He’s pretty cool.”
“So, who are you going with?” Maggie asked. She hated to give the third degree, but this was her baby girl. No one was good enough as far as she was concerned.
“A customer from the shop actually,” Laura said. “Blake Caulfield.”
“The guy who bought the Anne Barge gown for his fiancée?” Maggie asked.
“He returned it, remember? It seems they broke up,” Laura said.
Maggie frowned. She didn’t want Laura to be Blake’s rebound girl no matter how nice he had seemed.
“Mom, don’t worry. I know better than to date a guy who is pining for someone else. We’re just going as friends, and we’re meeting Max, Bianca and Aaron there, so it’s more of a group thing.”
“Well, that sounds like it will be fun,” she said. “What kind of music is it?”
“I’m not sure,” Laura said. “Bianca likes them, so it has to be something good, right?”
“Hmm, given her love of classical music, that could go either way,” Maggie said.
There was a knock on the door, and they both turned toward it.
“That’s him,” Laura said. She scooped up her jacket and purse en route to the door.
She opened the door with one hand while she shrugged into her coat with the other.
“Hi, Blake, come on in,” she said.
Blake entered the room, and Maggie smiled in welcome. He really was quite a handsome young man, and she remembered how he had made Claire laugh when she was trying on her gown by pretending to have a heart attack at the sight of her.
“It’s good to see you again, Blake,” she said.
“You, too, Mrs. Gerber,” he said. “Your daughter and her friends have been kind enough to include me in their plans. I really appreciate it.”
“It’s our pleasure,” Laura assured him. “Blake is studying to be an attorney at Max’s alma mater. They’ve been comparing war stories.”
“Really? Good for you. I was sorry to hear about . . .”
Maggie’s voice trailed off. It belatedly occurred to her that his terminated engagement might not be a topic he wished to discuss.
“The change in my Facebook status?” Blake asked with a wry smile.
“Sorry,” Maggie said. “That was tactless of me.”
“It’s all right,” he assured her. “As my mom said, it’s better that I found out now that she was interested in someone else than after we were married.”
“Most definitely,” Laura agreed. “Hey, we’d better go or Max and Bianca will think we stood them up.”
“Have fun,” Maggie said.
“I’ll have her home by midnight,” Blake said.
Maggie smiled at him. Sense of humor, check; polite, check; handsome, check; law student, check; now, if only he didn’t have that pesky broken heart, he’d be perfect.
Laura rolled her eyes at the two of them. She kissed her mother’s cheek, and said, “Don’t wait up.”
Maggie waved them out and closed the door behind them. The house was very quiet, and she suspected that Sandy and Jake had gone to bed right after Josh. The young couple was spending a lot of time holed up in their room, catching up on the months they’d missed.
Now Laura had met a nice young man, and she and Sam were on track. If it weren’t for the horrific murder of Diane Jenkins and the injury to Michael Claramotta, she could almost think this was going to be a happy Christmas. Almost.
Chapter 19
Maggie woke up early the next morning. She had heard Laura come in just before midnight, and she was grateful to have such a considerate daughter who didn’t stay out overly late, knowing that Maggie would worry.
She peeked her head into Laura’s room to see that she was still asleep. Her lips were slightly parted and her breathing was even and regular; yes, even after all of these years, Maggie still checked to see if her baby was breathing. Laura’s red-brown hair spread across her pillow, and she had one arm draped over her eyes as if to ward off the impending daylight.
Maggie closed the door quietly behind her and went to the kitchen to find a fresh pot of coffee already brewed. She glanced around the kitchen and found it empty, but then she saw Jake sitting out on the sunporch with the newspaper.
She poured herself a cup and went to join him. He had the sports page draped over his lap, but his gaze was directed out the window, and she wondered what he was seeing.
“Mornin’, Jake,” she said as she sat in the chair beside his. “How are you?”
He rubbed his eyes, and Maggie saw the faint trace of damp on his cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
She half rose out of her seat, but he held up his hand, gesturing for her to stop.
“It’s okay,” he said. He took a bracing sip of coffee and then gave her a wry smile. “I was just watching the sunrise and giving thanks that I’m here.”
“Aw, Jake.” Maggie put her cup down on the table and hugged him. “We’re grateful that you’re here, too.”
“Thanks,” he said, and hugged her back.
She cupped his face in her hands and kissed his forehead as if he were no bigger than Josh before she sat back down.
“Now tell me about the house,” she said.
Jake’s face lit up with excitement as he told her all about it and their hopes to add to their little family and build a swing set for Josh and his future brothers or sisters. It made Maggie’s heart sing to hear of their plans. Sandy and Jake were due for a whole lot of good in their lives, and she was delighted to see it come to fruition.
When Sandy joined them a bit later, she was carrying Maggie’s phone.
“Your phone was ringing,” she said. “But I missed it.”
“Oh, thanks,” Maggie said. She glanced at it, wondering who would have called her so early. The number was Sam’s, and after her heart did a little happy cartwheel, she realized he would only be calling her at this hour to tell her something bad.
She excused herself and went in
to the front room to return his call.
His deep voice answered on the third ring, “Mornin’, Maggie.”
“Hi, Sam. Please tell me you called to tell me about a killer sale on bath towels.”
“You got the killer part right,” he said. His voice was low “It’s not good news, Maggie.”
Maggie felt her heart thump hard with dread.
“What did you find out?”
The sigh on the other end of the line was heavy, and Maggie suspected that Sam had been up all night.
“There is a woman from Rhode Island who fits Diane’s description who was reported missing by her aunt a few months ago.”
“Do you think it’s her?”
“I don’t know for sure, but in talking to the detective who took the missing-person’s report, I’d say it’s likely.”
They were both silent. Maggie sensed there was something that Sam wasn’t telling her. This case had already caused friction between them. She knew it had the potential to fracture their tentative relationship. Their best line of defense was going to have to be communication.
“What aren’t you telling me, Sam?” she asked. “If we’re going to get through this, I need you to tell me what you can.”
“I suppose it’s better coming from me than the media,” he said.
“The media?” she asked.
“It’s going to get bad, Maggie,” he said. “If our Diane Jenkins is the same woman who is missing from Rhode Island, then her real name in Leann Winthrop and she recently took a restraining order out on a man.”
“Oh no. Do you think he found her here?” Maggie asked.
“That’s where it gets complicated,” Sam said. “The restraining order is against Michael Claramotta.”
Chapter 20
“What?” she asked. “But that’s impossible!”
“Let’s just hope there’s another Michael Claramotta living in the Ocean State,” Sam said.
“Do you really think that name is that common?” Maggie asked. She could hear the panic in her voice and she knew that Sam could hear it, too.
“It’ll be okay, Maggie,” he said. “We’ll figure it out.”