by Josie Belle
“Well, first of all, you’re the sheriff’s main squeeze, so you have influence.”
Maggie shook her head. “I have no influence.”
“Whatever,” Tyler said, obviously not believing her. “Also, you have a knack for helping people. You helped Bianca Madison when her mother was murdered.”
“Yeah, but Bianca was innocent,” Maggie said.
“And Summer is, too,” he said. “If you ask me, Sam ought to be looking at her mama, that evil woman.”
“I can’t argue that,” Maggie said. “But Blair has a solid alibi. She was here harassing me, and then she went to the hairdresser’s to have her roots touched up.”
“Here? She was here?” Tyler asked. “What was she doing here?”
“Trying to pay me not to see Sam anymore,” Maggie said. “To open the playing field for her daughter, as it were.”
“No way!” Tyler looked outraged.
“Nine thousand dollars of way,” Maggie said.
“You didn’t take it, did you?”
“No!” Maggie said. “You know me better than that.”
“Yeah, but that’s a lot of money,” he said. “I mean, even true love might waver in the clutches of cold, hard cash.”
“So, if Blair offered you nine thousand to stop seeing Summer, would you?”
“Hell no!” he said. “Of course, she didn’t need to, because I dumped Summer as soon as I discovered she was listening to that mean old cow and chasing after Sam.”
He looked so depressed that Maggie actually felt sorry for him.
“Yes, but she did get frisky with you at that motel, and she told me that she was going to warn Sam about her mother and not make a pass at him,” Maggie said. “That has to count for something.”
“I s’pose,” he said. He sounded like he didn’t believe Summer’s story to Maggie any more than Maggie had. “Well, listen, this isn’t about me and her. I really just want you to do what you can to help her. She didn’t kill her stepfather. I know she didn’t.”
“How do you know?” Maggie asked. She was curious about Tyler’s certainty.
“Because I know who she is down in her heart,” he said.
Maggie resisted the urge to point out that it was a tiny little raisin of a heart that probably didn’t have the capacity to pump out any feelings of love for anyone other than herself. It about killed her, but she kept that observation quiet.
“I know you doubt it, Maggie,” Tyler said, correctly reading the expression on her face. “But it’s true. My girl has a lot of love to give. She just has to shake her mother off and she’ll be fine.”
Maggie stared at him for a few seconds. She had promised Sam she wouldn’t get involved. But Tyler had come to her; she didn’t seek him out. Surely she was upholding her promise if she just conversed with Tyler. Right?
“Okay, tell me what you know about Bruce Cassidy,” she said.
“I only met the man briefly,” Tyler said.
“Okay, give me your impressions,” she said.
“He came across as the indulgent husband and stepfather,” Tyler said. “But—”
“Yes?” Maggie prodded.
“Well, before Blair busted us up, I went over to Summer’s for dinner, and I watched how they all were, you know, the dynamic between them,” he said.
“Really?” Maggie didn’t know if she was more impressed by his use of the word dynamic or the fact that he had consciously observed Summer’s family. Usually, Tyler couldn’t look past a woman’s boobs, so for him to have been on alert and watching dynamics, well, it made her wonder if Summer was even more special for him than he was aware.
“Yeah, and Bruce was tough,” he said.
“Tough how?” Maggie asked.
“He made Blair account for all of her spending,” he said. “And I didn’t get the feeling that it was because they didn’t have the money and he was trying to keep a budget, but rather, it seemed like it was a control issue between them.”
“Control how?”
“Like he had control over Blair if he had control over her spending,” Tyler said. “He liked to come across as all generous, but then he’d say things like ‘You’ll earn that little bauble later.’”
Maggie frowned. She didn’t like that. Frankly, it gave her the creeps.
“How did Blair handle that?” she asked.
“She giggled,” he said. “Like it was a game.”
“Did it bother Summer?” Maggie asked.
“She wouldn’t say, but I got the feeling it made her uncomfortable,” he said.
Maggie mulled that over. This was Blair’s fifth husband; surely Summer had gotten used to them coming and going in her life. She doubted Summer would feel threatened enough by any of these men to murder them, especially now that she was a grown woman with a business and life of her own. Then again, Blair did seem to hold an awful lot of power over her daughter. If Summer felt her mother was being threatened, how far would she go to protect Blair?
“How uncomfortable?” Maggie asked. “Like awkward uncomfortable, or ‘I want to cause you physical harm’ uncomfortable?”
“Now hold on there,” he said. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Really? What am I thinking?” Maggie asked.
“That Summer murdered her stepfather to protect her mother,” he said. “And I’m telling you she didn’t. I’d stake my life on it.”
Chapter 14
“Oh, man, you’ve got it bad, don’t you?” Maggie asked.
“Got what bad?” he asked.
“You’re in love with Summer,” Maggie said. Tyler’s face went slack, as if this had never occurred to him. “Oh, don’t tell me this is news to you.”
“Well, I mean I like her,” he said. He made an hourglass shape in the air with his calloused hands. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to drive those curves?”
Maggie squinted at him. Was he for real? How could he be so out of touch with his own feelings?
“Come on, Tyler, dig deep,” she said.
“Yeah, well, sure, I care about her,” he said.
“Tyler, look at you,” Maggie said. “You are here pleading her case to her archenemy, trying to figure out a way to get her out of being tapped for her stepfather’s murder. I hate to break it to you, but you looooooove her.”
Tyler flinched. Maggie almost laughed, but he looked so horrified, she couldn’t do that to him.
“You need to do some thinking,” Maggie said.
Tyler scratched his beard again. He looked perplexed. Given that he wasn’t a very deep thinker, Maggie had a feeling that this might take the entire afternoon.
“You’re right,” he said. He slapped his cap back onto his head. “I gotta go.”
He turned and headed to the door. Halfway there, he spun back around. “But you’ll think about what I said, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” Maggie said. She was not about to tell him that Sam had all but ordered her to steer clear. She didn’t want it to seem like she and Sam had the same kind of relationship as Blair and Bruce. She absolutely did not want anyone, and by “anyone” she meant “Sam,” thinking that he could boss her around and she would blindly obey.
The door shut behind Tyler, and Maggie shook her head. She had been doing so well with the butting out until he showed up.
Her cell phone chimed and Maggie picked it up off the counter and checked the caller ID. It was Ginger. Perfect. She needed a girlfriend consultation.
“Hi, Ginger,” she said.
“We need to talk,” Ginger said.
“Are Roger and the boys all right?” Maggie asked.
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“Because ‘we need to talk’ generally indicates a big problem, and since I know they’re your reason for living I figured it had to do with t
hem.”
“It’s true, they are, but mercifully, they are all fine,” Ginger said. “Summer Phillips, however, is not.”
“Oh, no, not you, too,” Maggie said.
“What do you mean?” Ginger asked.
“Tyler Fawkes was just in here asking me to look into the situation and to use my influence with Sam to get Summer off,” she said.
“Oh, wow,” Ginger said. “He’s smitten.”
“That’s what I told him,” Maggie said. “I think it was news to him.”
“Huh. Why is it men are always the last to realize that they’re in love?” Ginger asked. “They’re really so thick.”
“And Tyler is thicker than most,” Maggie said. She laughed. “He left with quite the ponderous look on his face.”
Ginger laughed, too. “I can just see it. Sort of like a dog when it hears a high pitched whistle.”
“Yup, that’s the one,” Maggie said.
“Well, listen, you know how I feel about Summer,” Ginger said.
“About the same as me,” Maggie said. “Only you’re less demonstrative in your dislike.”
“I never felt the need to show my loathing and contempt in public, no,” Ginger said. “Then again, she never made a habit of trying to steal Roger . . .”
“Which would be a game changer,” Maggie said.
“Agreed.”
“Still, you think we should help her,” Maggie said.
“I was just thinking I’d take a peek at the Cassidys’ financials,” Ginger said. “I’m sure Sam is already on it, but I thought I’d do a little digging, and if I find anything, I’ll pass it along.”
“Sounds fine to me,” Maggie said. “Unfortunately, I had to promise Sam I would keep away from the entire investigation.”
“Do tell,” Ginger said.
Maggie paced around her shop while she talked, straightening clothes and arranging the furniture. It didn’t need it, but she felt a restless energy she had to expel.
“Sam’s worried that whoever did this is still out there, and he’s concerned that if I butt in, I’ll make myself a target,” she said.
“Well, it has been known to happen,” Ginger said. “He finally got you back in his life—you can’t blame the guy for wanting to keep you safe.”
“I don’t,” Maggie said. “I even agreed to mind my own business.”
“I hear a ‘but’ in there,” Ginger said.
“He’s been away from St. Stanley for a long time,” Maggie said. “I know the residents; heck, I even know the passers-through better than he does.”
“Agreed,” Ginger said. “But if you go back on your word now . . .”
“I know, I know,” Maggie said. “It’ll damage the relationship.”
“Yes, and as you know, good men are hard to come by in these middle years; they’re either taken or, well, they’re like Tyler Fawkes, forty going on fourteen.”
Maggie shuddered as a picture of Tyler in his underwear streaked through her mind—but not nearly quickly enough.
“Yeah, I know,” she said.
“There has to be a middle ground,” Ginger said. “You just go about your business, and if people talk to you like I will if I find anything funky, then you tell Sam. He can’t get mad at you, because I am doing this on my own and just reporting it back.”
“I suppose,” Maggie said. “But what do I tell Tyler when he asks if I’m working on the situation?”
“Hopefully, his brain in love is at capacity and he won’t ask,” Ginger said.
Maggie conceded that this seemed a likely possibility.
“But if he should ask, then you just go all vague politician on him and say, ‘Why, yes, Tyler, I am working on it to the best of my ability,’ which would be the truth.”
“I suppose,” Maggie agreed, but she didn’t like it. Was being involved with the sheriff going to make her feel this tied down? She wasn’t sure she wanted to sign on for that.
As if reading her mind, Ginger said, “Give it time.”
“Fine,” Maggie said. She knew she sounded pouty, but she couldn’t help it. She hung up after Ginger promised to report back with anything she learned.
“Stop thinking about the Cassidys,” she chided herself and decided to rearrange the shoe rack at the back of the shop to keep her hands and mind busy.
She had just finished rearranging the shoes and helping Candace Lester unload some of the baby clothes she had sorted from her five growing children when the doors opened and Claire came dashing into the shop.
Candace had picked up two dresses and passed Claire on her way out. She paused to talk to Claire about the waiting list on a book at the library, and Claire gave her a quick nod and blew right past her. Maggie looked at her friend’s face and knew immediately that something was up.
“Is Joanne in labor?” she asked. “Are they on their way to the hospital?”
“No,” Claire said. “At least I haven’t heard anything if they are.”
Maggie and Claire both paused to check their phones. No new messages for either of them. “Michael would have texted us,” Maggie said.
“For sure,” Claire agreed. “I came by about something else.”
“A fabulous sale?” Maggie asked hopefully.
“No, why, what have you heard?” Claire asked. She was momentarily diverted by the thought of thrift.
“Nothing,” Maggie said. “I am just hoping that you are not going to tell me that you are looking into Bruce Cassidy’s murder in order to help Summer. Please tell me you’re not.”
“Okay, I’m not looking into Bruce Cassidy’s murder in order to help Summer,” Claire said.
“Thank goodness.”
“And now I’m a liar.”
Maggie slumped onto one of the two cushy armchairs she had for sale in the shoe area.
“Why are you checking out Bruce?” Maggie asked. “You don’t even like Summer. What do you care if she’s a person of interest in his murder or not?”
Claire sat on the chair next to Maggie’s. “Just because I don’t like her doesn’t mean she’s not one of us. She’s the enemy, you know? If she gets locked up, who will be our nemesis then? In great literature, the protagonist is frequently defined by the antagonist.”
“I suppose that’s one way to look at it,” Maggie said. Her tone was doubtful. “Listen, I promised Sam I would stay out of it.”
“Good thing I’m here to stick my nose in for you then,” Claire said. “I didn’t do much, but I did a little digging in the databases at work and online.”
“And?” Maggie asked.
“Well, I searched Bruce Cassidy’s background in San Diego, California, since that’s where he said he was from. I thought if there was a record of any court cases he was involved in, that could show if he left any enemies behind,” Claire said. “When I narrowed the search down by age, I discovered there was only one Bruce Cassidy who was a viable match. And that’s when it got weird.”
Maggie raised her eyebrows. Damn it, now she was curious. “How weird?”
“He was listed as being married to a Sela Cassidy,” Claire said. “So, I checked the San Diego Superior Court files to see if there was a divorce on file. There was none.”
“Maybe they got divorced somewhere else,” Maggie said.
“Perhaps, but didn’t he say that he had only just left California and moved to New York when he met Blair?”
“He did,” Maggie confirmed.
“So then, why wouldn’t the divorce be on file?”
“Maybe she died,” Maggie said. “Maybe he’s a widower.”
“I had the same thought,” Claire said. “To prevent against identity theft, they require a notarized application to obtain a death certificate, so the best I could do was search for an obituary. There was none.”
Maggi
e leaned forward. She was intrigued, despite her promise to Sam to mind her own beeswax.
“Do you think he was still married when he married Blair?”
“I don’t know,” Claire said. “I mean, my databases are pretty limited and specialize in genealogy, and you can only go so far on an out-of-state website, but still, I thought it was pretty interesting that there is no indication of a divorce or a death. Usually those things are pretty easy to trace.”
“Sam probably knows this already,” Maggie said.
“I’m sure Blair must have told him,” Claire agreed.
“Unless she doesn’t know,” Maggie said.
“Do you think that’s possible?” Claire asked.
“From what Tyler described of their relationship, Bruce had all the power,” Maggie said. “He was very indulgent with Blair, but he definitely called the shots.”
“So he may not have told her about any previous relationships, regardless of how they ended,” Claire said. “And Blair doesn’t strike me as the type to dig much further than the depth of his pockets.”
“Ginger is checking into Bruce’s financials,” Maggie said.
Claire smiled. “I thought you were butting out.”
“For the record, I didn’t ask her to look; she called and told me that she was doing it,” Maggie said.
“Uh-huh,” Claire said.
“Just like I didn’t ask you to look into his history,” Maggie said.
“You’ve trained your Good Buy Girls well, sensei,” Claire said in a mock-serious voice as she lowered her head in a bow.
“Sam is going to be so mad at me,” Maggie said. “But in a town this size, is it really reasonable to think that I could stay completely out of a murder investigation?”
“He won’t be mad,” Claire said. “He’s a very reasonable man.”
“I suppose now is as good a time as any to put that theory to the test,” Maggie said. “Let’s head over to the police station and see if Sam is in. You can tell him what you found out, and maybe Summer can verify whether her stepfather had been married before.”
Claire glanced at her watch. “That works. I don’t have to be back at the library for forty-five minutes.”