Marked Down for Murder (Good Buy Girls)

by Josie Belle

  “You?” she asked.

  He gave a self-conscious chuckle and put his free hand on the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

  “Oh, Sam,” Maggie said. “It’s beautiful.”

  Together they climbed the steps. The red and white lights cast a pretty glow all around the wooden structure. The gazebo was legendary in St. Stanley as the place where all the couples came to pledge their love. It had been built over a hundred years ago. Maggie figured there probably wasn’t an original board left in the place, but the town had faithfully, some might say scrupulously, maintained its original look, because it was the heart of St. Stanley.

  The story went that Stewart Devon, a wandering carpenter, blew into St. Stanley and was hired to build the gazebo. While he worked, he fell in love with the mayor’s daughter. Of course, the mayor forbade his daughter, Anastasia, to have anything to do with the lowly carpenter. So Stewart built the gazebo as slowly as he could until the mayor threatened to throw him in jail if he didn’t finish.

  Reluctantly, Stewart finished the gazebo. The town held a party to celebrate its completion, and Stewart prepared to leave St. Stanley. Mysteriously, the gazebo burnt down that night. A witness claimed that Anastasia was the one to burn it down.

  The mayor didn’t want his daughter arrested for arson and so asked Stewart to take her away with him. Stewart said no. He knew that Anastasia loved St. Stanley and didn’t want to leave and so he made a pact with the town that if he rebuilt the gazebo they would not arrest Anastasia for arson. The town agreed and the couple was the first to be married in the gazebo. Mr. and Mrs. Stewart Devon lived out their days in St. Stanley, having three children and seven grandchildren, and the gazebo became a sacred spot to all St. Stanley couples.

  Doc Franklin had gotten down on one knee and proposed to his wife Alice here. During a summer concert, Roger Lancaster had first asked Ginger out on the steps. And Sam Collins, well, when he was eight years old, he’d been on the receiving end of a bloody nose from seven-year-old Maggie O’Brien, years before she became Maggie Gerber, for teasing her about her favorite sparkly pink shoes.

  Sam turned Maggie to face him, holding her hands in his.

  “The night before I left for college, I had it all planned out. I wanted to bring you right here, with flowers and music, and tell you that I loved you and ask you to wait for me.”

  “Oh, Sam,” Maggie felt her heart squeeze tight. “I’m so—”

  “No, don’t be,” Sam said. “I didn’t know it then, but it played out the way it was supposed to. You were destined to marry Charlie and have Laura and become the amazing woman that you are. And I was supposed to go to Richmond and become a detective. I loved my career, and I wouldn’t be the man that I am if I hadn’t chosen that path.”

  “But this is so wonderful,” Maggie said. “And it hurts me to know that you did this for me back then, and I shut the door in your face. Gah, I’m a horrible person.”

  Sam lifted her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his. “No, you’re not. Honestly, Maggie, I don’t think we were supposed to be together until now. We were both pretty hotheaded and stubborn. Well, more you than me,” he teased. Maggie didn’t argue because it was true. “I think we both needed to live a little and grow up a lot so we could truly appreciate what we have between us.”

  “Thank you,” Maggie said. Her voice was rough, as she had to force her words past the lump in her throat. “For all of this, and for letting us have a do-over.”

  Sam let go of her hands and crossed the gazebo to take a single red rose out of a box with a note.

  Maggie smiled when she took the flower and the note from him. She opened the card but the note was blank. She flipped it over and then glanced at Sam in question. He smiled and then held up one hand. From it dangled a diamond-encrusted heart on a golden chain.

  “Valentine,” he said. “Maggie, will you be my valentine?”

  Maggie swallowed the lump in her throat, which naturally made a tear slip out of the corner of her eye. Sam wiped it away with the gentlest touch. Then she grinned and nodded.

  “Yes, most definitely,” she said. “I’ll be your valentine so long as you promise to be mine.”

  “Always,” Sam said.

  He moved to stand behind her and fastened the necklace around her throat. Maggie fingered the heart and watched it sparkle in the light. It was perfect.

  “There is just one thing you need to know,” she said. “If things had gone differently that night, I would have told you I loved you, too, and I would have waited. In fact, I feel as if I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time. I love you, Sam Collins.”

  The smile Sam gave her was one she would carry with her always. It was him at his most boyish, just like when they were teens. She treasured that look. When he kissed her, she knew they had finally done it. They had healed the old hurts and laid to rest the ghosts of their past.

  Dinner was perfect. The food. The wine. The company. Maggie couldn’t remember when she’d had such a magical evening. She gave Sam his gift after dinner. She had used her connections in the resale world and gotten him a signed jersey for his beloved Ravens. Sam was thrilled. He was also a good storyteller, talking about his life in Richmond, but he was also a wonderful listener, asking her questions about her life in St. Stanley and marveling at how she’d managed on her own after Charlie had died.

  Over the past few months, they had each shared snippets of their lives apart, but somehow, after their time in the gazebo, it was as if a final barrier had been removed. The stories they shared now were more personal and more honest. Maggie felt as if they knew it was okay. There was nothing, no secret they couldn’t share, that would drive the other away. It was a remarkable place to be in after all these years.

  Maggie felt like she could sit in the glow of the candlelight, drinking in the sight of Sam sitting across from her, for hours, days, quite possibly weeks, and never get tired of him, of them. Yes, they both had the crinkly lines of age at the corners of their eyes, and gray hair was just beginning to sprout, but she couldn’t help but feel they had their whole lives ahead of them.

  They were just leaving the restaurant when Maggie’s phone chimed. She wondered if it was Laura calling from college to ask about her date. She surreptitiously pulled her phone out of her purse and checked the display as they walked to the door.

  The number was Ginger’s. Now, she knew her BFF was curious about her date, but she didn’t think she’d be calling and interrupting unless something had happened.

  “It’s Ginger,” she said.

  “You take it,” Sam said. “I’ll get our coats.”

  He made his way to the coat check and Maggie answered the phone.

  “Hello,” Maggie said.

  “You’re not naked, are you?” Ginger asked.

  “What? No!” Maggie said. “We’re just leaving Voltaire’s.”

  “Oh, good, Roger said not to call because I might be interrupting . . . you know,” Ginger said. Then she giggled.

  Maggie rolled her eyes. She felt as if they were still in high school. “Clearly, you’re not interrupting you know, so what’s happening?”

  “Michael just called,” Ginger said. Now her voice was straight-up serious. “Joanne is in labor. They are on their way to the hospital right now.”

  “Get out!” Maggie said. “But this is early, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Ginger said.

  Maggie could hear the concern in her friend’s voice.

  “Claire and Pete have already left for the hospital, and Roger and I are on our way now,” Ginger said. “I can keep you posted with texts if you want.”

  Sam returned with their coats over his arm.

  “Oh, no,” Maggie said. “Good Buy Girls stick together through it all, especially birth. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  Sam raised his eyebrows and mouthed, Joanne?
Maggie nodded at him and he blew out a breath as if he were nervous, too.

  “But it’s your first Valentine’s Day with Sam,” Ginger protested. “You should spend it alone together.”

  “There’ll be more Valentine’s Days for us,” Maggie said.

  Sam smiled at her as if he liked the sound of that, and Maggie almost forgot who she was talking to and why.

  Sam took the phone from her hand. “We’ll see you at the hospital, Ginger,” he said.

  Whatever she answered made him chuckle as he hung up. Sam held open her coat and Maggie shrugged it on. He then handed her phone back, and Maggie tucked it into her purse.

  As he walked her out to the car, Maggie noticed that he had a faraway look in his eyes. She suddenly felt very guilty for ending their date at the hospital.

  “I’m really sorry about this,” she said. “But Joanne and Michael have been trying for so long. I just feel like she needs all the support she can get, especially with the baby coming this early.”

  Sam put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

  “Don’t apologize,” he said. “Of course you need to be with Joanne. Besides, it’s a baby. How cool is that?”

  Maggie looked at him and saw the happy light in his eyes. Oh no, he liked babies! Panic started to thump through her. Maybe he wanted some of his own. Maybe he wanted them with her!

  Chapter 7

  “Come on,” he said. “I have my siren in the car. I can get us there in no time.”

  Sure enough, he slapped a siren on the roof and punched the gas. They were pulling into the hospital lot before Maggie had processed all that was going through her head.

  He parked in the visitor’s section and they hurried across the lot to the main entrance. A lovely older woman was working the information desk, and she smiled at them.

  “Visiting hours are about to end,” she said.

  “We’re looking for the maternity ward,” Maggie said.

  “Right down the hall,” the lady said. “Follow the yellow line and it will take you to the elevators. You want to get off on the third floor and go to your right.”

  “Thank you,” Maggie said.

  Sam had already grabbed her hand and they were jogging for the elevators. When they got off on the third floor and turned right, they passed a large waiting room. Ginger and Roger and Pete and Claire were all sitting there. Maggie could tell by everyone’s dressed-up duds that they’d all been enjoying lovely Valentine’s Days of their own.

  “Maggie!” Ginger and Claire both hurried toward her.

  “Is there any word?” Maggie asked. “Is Joanne okay?”

  “She and Michael have been back there for a while,” Claire said. “No word as yet.”

  “Look at me,” Ginger said. She held out her hands to show they were shaking. “I am a nervous wreck.”

  “There’s no need,” Maggie said. “Joanne is one tough cookie, she’s from New York, she’ll be fine.”

  And she hoped by declaring it emphatically she could make it so.

  “You’re right,” Claire said. “She’s going to be just fine.”

  The three of them were silent for a moment. Maggie noticed that Sam had sat right down with Roger and Pete where they were watching a basketball game on the flat-screen television bolted to the wall.

  Men! Didn’t they know they were in a high alert sort of situation?

  She glanced back at her friends and noticed Ginger’s gaze on the sparkly heart around Maggie’s neck.

  “So, what was the final word of the week?” Ginger asked.

  Maggie smiled. “Valentine. He asked me to be his valentine.”

  Claire sighed. “It sounds like it was very romantic.”

  “It was,” Maggie said. “Sort of made up for all the ones we’ve missed over the years. How about you? Did you have a nice date with Pete?”

  “Oh, we haven’t even started yet,” she said. “I had to close the library. He had just picked me up when we got the call.”

  “What about you and Roger?” Maggie asked.

  Ginger smiled. “We finished our dinner date and were headed home to make certain none of the boys got up to mischief while we were gone.”

  “Your boys are wonderful. They would never—” Claire began, but Ginger cut her off.

  “Oh no, teenage boys and their hormones must never be trusted. I swear their brains short out and they are incapable of overriding their impulses. Roger and I maintain a state of constant vigilance,” she said.

  “It’s true,” Maggie said. “The decision-making skills are just not there yet. I was the same way with Laura.”

  “This is one more reason why I don’t have the stamina to have a child,” Claire said. “It must be exhausting.”

  Maggie frowned. Yes, it was, and it was definitely not for the faint of heart.

  “Hey, you okay?” Ginger jostled her arm.

  “Me?” Maggie asked. “Yeah, I’m just . . . uh . . . thinking about all that Joanne and Michael have ahead of them. You know, midnight feedings, potty training, the first time the baby gets sick, teaching them to read and ride a bike, getting into a good college . . . Good grief, it never ends.”

  “Bless their hearts,” Ginger said.

  “Indeed,” Maggie said.

  Her gaze strayed back over to Sam. He was half reclined in his seat, laughing at some joke Pete had made. She could just see a sleeping baby sacked out on his chest. The thought warmed and chilled her at the same time.

  As if he sensed her stare, he glanced over at her, and his smile was accompanied by a mischievous wink. Maggie smiled back, but it felt forced. She turned to her friends.

  “Does anyone know what Joanne was craving for the past few weeks?” Claire asked. “I read that depending upon what a woman craves, you can sometimes determine the sex of the baby.”

  “Oh, but no,” Ginger said. “Honey, you are just going to have to wait like the rest of us. Besides, Joanne has craved everything from coconut and caramel to root beer and raspberries.”

  “Raspberries, huh,” Claire said. “I’ll have to look that one up.”

  Clearly, she was not willing to give up her quest for the answer to Baby Claramotta’s gender.

  Abruptly, the door to the waiting room swung open and Michael and Joanne strode into the room. They were both upright and walking, with no bundle of joy in their arms.

  “You’re still pregnant!” Claire squawked. “Shouldn’t you be lying down with your feet in stirrups by now?”

  Joanne gave her a wan smile. “Sorry. It was a false alarm.”

  “Well, false labor at any rate,” Michael said. He shouldered her hospital bag while keeping his other arm wrapped protectively about Joanne.

  “I think the baby just wants to make sure we know what we’re doing,” Joanne said.

  Sam, Roger and Pete joined the group.

  “Darn, and I was really hoping you’d name the baby Valentine, too,” Pete said.

  Claire laughed while the others cringed.

  “What? It could be worse,” he said. “How about Cupid?”

  They all began to walk out of the hospital together. Maggie could hear Pete offering up more names behind her.

  “Arrow? Eros?”

  She caught up to Joanne and asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, just tired and a little disappointed,” Joanne said. “I mean I know it would have been early and it’s better that the baby has a few more weeks to build up its immunity and all, but . . .”

  “You want to meet him or her?” Maggie asked.

  “Yes,” Joanne said. Her eyes were shining. “I really, really do.”

  “It’ll happen before you know it,” Ginger said as she muscled her way between Michael and Joanne.

  “Promise?” Claire asked from Maggie’s other side. �
��Because I don’t know about you, but it is driving me plumb crazy not knowing what we’re having.”

  “We’re having?” Joanne repeated. Then she laughed. “I like that. Thank you all for being here. It means a lot.”

  “Where else would we be?” Ginger asked.

  “Seriously, I haven’t been stockpiling cloth diapers for months for nothing,” Claire said.

  “Go home and rest,” Maggie said. “Because after the baby comes, you won’t have another chance for a very long time.”

  Joanne hugged each of them when they stopped by her car.

  Michael opened the back door and tossed the hospital bag in, then he opened the passenger door for Joanne.

  Once she climbed in, he closed the door behind her.

  He shook hands with the men and hugged the women. “Thanks, all. We’ll keep you posted.”

  “Please do,” Sam said. “And if you need a police escort at crunch time, just let me know. I’ve got connections.”

  They banged knuckles and Michael got into his car. They stood in a group, waving, as Michael and Joanne headed home.

  “Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but my nerves are shot,” Pete said. “There’s a band playing at the Daily Grind, and I hear that place has some of the best java and chai tea in town. Who’s in?”

  Ginger looked at Roger. “Do you suppose we can trust the boys?”

  “I will call and threaten them in my big daddy voice,” he said. “Then I’ll double down with a guilt bomb about how I never get to take their mama out and I’m taking her tonight and expect no shenanigans.”

  “I like it,” Ginger said. “We’re in.”

  Sam pulled Maggie close and wiggled his eyebrows. “How about it? I bet we could slow dance.”

  Maggie grinned. “That is too good of an offer to refuse.” She turned to the others. “We’re in, too.”

  • • •

  The band playing at the coffee shop was one that specialized in cover songs, and tonight they were pulling out all of the romantic stops.

  Staff and customers alike greeted Pete like their favorite uncle, and Maggie was pleased to see that most of them acknowledged Claire as his significant other. A jovial extrovert who was always quick with a joke, Pete seemed to balance Claire’s shy bookishness.