by Ginny Gold
David shrugs. “It’s just our reality.”
Maggie notices that Marla is on edge while David is too calm. “I’m really sorry for your loss,” she says, bringing the conversation back to Clara, and the reason she’s here. “But I have to get going. I’m sure I’ll see you again before you leave.”
Marla and David both stand and shake her hand and Ginger Rae escorts her back to the front door. “How long are you staying at Winona’s?” Maggie asks.
“I’m not sure. I just don’t feel safe going back to my house right now.” Maggie nods in understanding.
“If you need anything, let me know.” Maggie offers an out of character quick hug and then is gone.
She heads straight to the grocery store to pick up the fixings for dinner. As she walks in, she glances down at her list and bumps into someone’s shoulder. She looks up to offer her apologies, and even behind the dark sunglasses, the man is unmistakably Stewart Cole. The scar on his chin is exactly the same as in the photo Daniel sent her just this morning.
But now, in person and in the present, Maggie sees fresh scratches on his cheeks that could have easily come from bushes on a speedy escape after committing a crime.
CHAPTER 22
Maggie is torn. She has to get food for dinner but she wants to find out what Stewart is doing in Silver Springs. Bumping into him may not be the opening she needs, but she could at least follow him to find out where he’s staying.
Maggie decides to abandon her shopping plans for the time being and she turns around. She just catches Stewart getting into a green pickup truck and she walks as quickly as she can, without running, back to her Prius. She doesn’t want to draw any attention to herself.
Stewart’s truck doesn’t move right away, like he’s conveniently waiting for Maggie to get to her car. Maggie waits until he finally drives out of the parking lot and away from the center of town. It’s nearing the end of the work day so there are plenty of other cars on the road and Maggie follows at a safe distance.
Stewart makes only one turn—into the parking lot of a motel north on River Road. Maggie drives past, turns around and quickly parks on the side of the road so she can watch him. Stewart walks to the upper level and enters a door in the middle. She finds her binoculars that have come in so handy in the past and sees that he’s staying in room 206.
It takes her only fifteen minutes to figure out where Stewart is staying, time well spent she thinks, and she heads back to the grocery store and to the house. She has a nice dinner to prepare for a double date.
All of the animals are inside when Maggie shuffles through the door, bags bumping against her hips as she juggles too many things at once. Oscar is all over her within moments, adding to the confusion, but Suzie barely lifts her head and Opal jumps onto the counter and then to the top of the fridge to avoid all of the chaos but still keeping an eye on the dogs.
“You dogs are in early today,” Maggie says. It’s just past five and they often aren’t home until after Maggie gets home from closing the shop. “You want some food?”
Maggie sets her over-full bags on the kitchen table until after the animals are fed and Suzie leaps off the couch at the sound of dinner in the kitchen. Opal even comes down to the floor to eat beside the dogs, a major improvement in their relationship over the past month.
With the animals happily occupied, Maggie takes out her veggies and washes them in the sink, sets the fish on the counter and gets water started in a pot for brown rice that always takes longer than she plans for. Just as she puts her empty bags away, the front door opens and a friendly voice calls her.
“Maggie?” Drew’s voice says.
“In the kitchen,” she calls back, her stomach getting butterflies simply knowing he’s here. She’s like a teenager in her first relationship sometimes with how Drew makes her feel.
Drew leaves his coat and shoes at the door and finds her in the kitchen. Maggie, busy cutting vegetables, turns only her head and Drew produces a bunch of pink, yellow and orange gerbera daisies from behind his back.
Maggie smiles, leaves her knife and veggies on the cutting board and happily accepts the gift. “You didn’t have to do that,” she gushes, falling even more victim to teenage tendencies.
“Of course I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. Besides, Flower Power was having a sale. And they’re right across the street from work. I passed them on the way to my car and couldn’t resist. I knew you’d love them.”
Maggie offers a quick hug, which Drew takes full advantage of, and twirls her around the kitchen once. She escapes his antics to protect the flowers and finds a vase for them.
“What can I do to help?” he asks, rolling up his sleeves and taking Maggie’s spot in front of the cutting board.
She swats his hand away from the knife just before he picks it up and says, “Nothing. I like to work alone in the kitchen.” She bumps her hip against his to move him away from her work station.
“Hmm. Just like you like to work alone on investigations.”
“Not true,” she retorts, her back to Drew, who takes a seat at the table and pats Oscar on the head. After the quick greeting, all three animals disappear outside.
“Prove it. Tell me what’s going on. What’d you find out today?”
Maggie picks up where she left off with her preparations in the salad making. The oven is preheating for the fish and she rattles off all of the information she collected about Stewart, Marla and David, and her visit with Valerie Hunt, even though that conversation didn’t particularly offer any insight into what happened Saturday night.
“And what about Ellen Furst? How’d that go with Ginger Rae?” Drew asks once Maggie exhausts her information.
“Good, from what Ginger Rae told me. There’s an article coming out tomorrow about Clara. And Karl is on probation until further notice.”
“Great. I’m glad that contact helped.”
“Well, we’ll see how things shake out.” The front door opening interrupts their conversation and Maggie turns in surprise, expecting Clem home early. “Denis, hi,” she says. “Clem’s not home yet.”
Without missing a beat, Denis says, “Good. I have something I need your help with.”
Maggie leaves her salad and heads toward the front door. “Is everything okay? I didn’t expect you until later.”
Denis nods. “Everything’s fine. I just had to talk to you before Clem got here.” He pulls a small black velvety box from his pocket and continues. “I want to propose to her tonight. I thought you could hide this somewhere in her dinner.”
Maggie’s eyes grow wide with surprise. “She said you guys were talking about marriage but I didn’t expect it to happen so soon.” She’s giddy for her twin sister.
“I don’t think she expected it so soon after our conversation either. That’s why I want to do it tonight. I want it to be a surprise.”
Maggie takes the small box and opens it. Inside is a simple ring with three small stones that reflect the little bit of light coming in from the windows. “This is perfect for Clem. It’s not too showy. She’ll love it.”
Denis smiles shyly. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”
“I bought a cheesecake for dessert. I’ll add this to the top of hers.” Maggie is already anticipating Clem’s reaction—shock and awe.
***
Clem gets home late, putting everyone on edge, especially Denis. Maggie can tell he wants to get his proposal over with and move on to the next stage of their relationship. Or at least know what Clem’s answer is.
When she finally walks through the door from the garage, the dogs rush in after her and the house is thrown into chaos once again. “Sorry I’m late. It smells delicious in here. I’m starving. Thanks for cooking,” she spouts off without taking a breath.
Denis is immediately at her side, helping her with the numerous bags she’s carrying and her coat. Maggie pours another glass of wine and puts it on the table for when Clem is ready.
“How was the af
ternoon at work?” Maggie asks when things settle down. Drew remains on the outskirts, happily drinking his beer.
Clem takes a sip of her wine first and then sits at the table before answering. “Busy. And that slimy reporter Karl Jacobs came in. I wanted to kick him out after the article he wrote about Clara.”
“What did he want?” Maggie asks, disappointed that he was willing to show his face in their store.
Clem shakes her head. “Not to buy anything, that was clear from the moment he walked in. He just walked around, touching everything. I must have spent half an hour just getting everything back in place after he left.” Clem is a little compulsive about keeping everything in its exact spot.
“Did you talk to him?” Maggie asks.
“Of course not. I knew I wouldn’t be able to remain civil. What a vile human being. He gives Silver Springs a bad reputation,” Clem fumes.
The oven beeps and Maggie takes the fish out of the oven. She checks the rice and is happily surprised that it’s ready. She places everything on the table, Drew getting plates and silverware and another bottle of wine.
“I think you girls need this,” he jokes, filling their glasses. Neither Maggie nor Clem object.
“But how was your day?” Clem asks, turning to Maggie. “How’s Ginger Rae?”
Maggie launches into an overview of her day once again, ending with running into Stewart at the grocery store. She doesn’t mention Denis arriving early.
Denis remains quiet throughout much of the meal but Clem doesn’t seem to notice. There are enough topics to touch on, including tomorrow night’s Bingo game.
“You’re going again?” Clem asks. Maggie has been roped into more Tuesday night Bingo games than she’d care to admit.
“Of course she is,” Drew says, smiling. “That was one of the first places we spent time together.”
“Yeah, back before I knew what a catch you were.” Maggie gently pushes his shoulder. “Seconds anyone?” she asks, holding up the salad and rice. The fish has been picked clean.
Everyone shakes their heads and the men stand without being asked and start clearing the table. Maggie and Clem don’t protest and lean back in their chairs with recently refilled wine glasses.
“I could get used to this,” Clem says, much calmer than when the meal started. “Coming home to a delicious meal, someone cleaning up afterward. It can’t really get better than this.”
“Well, there’s dessert. That always makes it better.” Maggie smiles, unable to keep the excitement of what’s to come off her face. Luckily Clem has had enough wine that she doesn’t notice.
When the dishes are all in the dishwasher and Drew and Denis have returned to the table, more beer in their hands, Maggie pulls the cheesecake from the fridge. “I didn’t whip any cream, but I meant to. Sorry,” she says. “There are strawberries though.” Everyone murmurs their approval.
She keeps her back to the table and listens closely as conversation resumes, no one paying her any attention. Each of four plates receives a slice of cheesecake and plenty of sliced strawberries. The season is past, so they won’t be as delicious as in the middle of the summer, but they’ll do.
The last addition is the engagement ring on Clem’s cake. Then Maggie starts serving, saving Clem’s for last.
“That looks delicious,” Clem says, trying to take Denis’ when Maggie hands him one.
He looks surprised and unable to come up with an excuse to not let Clem have it. She digs in before Maggie can bring her a new one—the one with the engagement ring.
“It’s as good as it looks. Did you get it from the bakery on Main Street?” she asks, her mouth full.
Maggie carries the last two pieces to the table, one for herself and the one reserved for Clem. “Umm, yeah,” she answers, not quite sure what to do with Clem’s cheesecake. She hands it to Denis.
Clem is so lost in her dessert that she doesn’t even notice everyone staring at her until she’s almost finished. “What?” she asks, wiping her face with her napkin. “Did I get it on my face?”
Denis looks down at the plate in front of him, speechless. Clem follows his gaze and drops her fork. “Was . . . was that for me?” she asks quietly.
Denis nods.
Clem bursts out laughing.
“That wasn’t really how I’d planned for it to go,” Denis says, smiling shyly. He trades plates with Clem, taking her finished cheesecake and giving her a new piece, the ring sticking out of the middle. Clem’s hand covers her heart and Denis asks, “Clementine Boothe, will you make me the happiest man in the world and be my wife?”
Clem can’t answer. Tears well up in her eyes and she nods, a smile contradicting the tears that threaten to spill over. Maggie and Drew look on, all smiles as well.
CHAPTER 23
The energy of the house on Tuesday morning is completely changed. Maggie feels it as soon as she wakes up to Opal’s scratching at the bathroom window to get outside. Maggie opens one eye and sees that the bedroom door is closed so the cat’s independent escape is blocked off. She drags herself out of bed and lets Opal outside.
Rather than bundling herself up in the warmth of the covers, Maggie rubs her eyes and shuffles to the kitchen where Clem is sitting at the table. “Morning,” Maggie mumbles, her eyes not quite open all the way.
“Good morning,” Clem replies, looking up from her magazine, all smiles.
“Denis didn’t spend the night?”
“No. We like our own beds.”
Maggie sits across from her sister, wishing Clem was a coffee drinker and already had a pot going. “That will be a tough transition then when you’re married. I assume you’ll live together.”
Clem smiles. “I assume so too. But we can still have our own beds.”
Maggie agrees and walks slowly to the counter where she starts a pot of coffee.
“I’m off to work.” The smile never leaves Clem’s face and Maggie can hear it through her words even though she doesn’t turn around to face her. “You’ll stop in sometime?”
“Yeah,” Maggie agrees offhandedly. She’s focused on getting caffeine into her bloodstream as soon as possible. “I don’t have anything set in stone for today as far as times, so I’ll stop in between talking to people about Clara’s murder.”
“Good luck.” The door to the garage closes a moment later and Maggie is left alone with silence, the dogs nowhere to be seen.
The oven clock reminds Maggie that she’s up early—it’s not even seven yet and she could happily sleep until ten if she didn’t have things to do. She makes her coffee extra strong and brings it with her back to her bedroom. A shower will do the trick to wake her up a little bit faster.
When she steps out of the warm water ten minutes later, her phone is ringing on the bed. She quickly wraps a towel around herself and fumbles for her glasses. They’re fogged up from the steam and essentially useless.
By the time she reaches the bed, her phone has stopped ringing but she sees that she missed a call from Trista. She dries off, slips on some jeans and a shirt and calls her back.
“I thought maybe your phone was off if you hadn’t gotten up yet,” Trista says when she answers. It’s a good assumption.
“Nope. I made this morning an early one. I just missed answering.”
“And you even sound awake.” Trista chuckles. It’s no secret that Maggie isn’t a morning person.
“You must have good news if you’re calling me this early,” Maggie says, wanting to get to the point.
“I have news. You’ll have to figure out if it’s good news.”
“What’d you find out about Mitch and Josh?” Maggie is impatient. It feels like Trista is stalling.
“Well, it’d be unlikely that they don’t know each other.”
“Oh?” Maggie asks, rifling through her handbag that she pulled out from under the bed, unsure how it even got there. She finds her tablet computer, turns it on and cradles the phone between her ear and her shoulder. She’ll pay for it later
with a crick in her neck but she can’t waste these precious minutes with Trista on the phone.
“Yeah. You knew Josh was from Alaska?” Maggie makes an affirmative sound. “He left as soon as he could. On his eighteenth birthday.”
“He told me he’d only been in Silver Springs for three years,” Maggie says, suddenly confused by the timeline. There’s a large gap.
“True. He moved around quite a bit. Like he didn’t want to leave a trail.” Maggie nods in understanding even though Trista can’t see her. She doesn’t slow down her explanation of what she’s dug up. “One of those places happened to be Mitch’s hometown.”
“Where?” Maggie asks, wanting every detail.
“Two Forks, Iowa.”
Maggie adds that to her notes. “How do you know they met there?”
“I’ll send you a link to a newspaper article about them. And even if they didn’t meet there, they’re friends on Facebook.”
Maggie laughs. “You know as well as I do that doesn’t mean they’re actually friends.”
“No, it doesn’t. But they’re in photos together. So they at least know each other.”
“Great. Anyone else stick out who might be in their inner circle?” If Ginger Rae is right, and Clara’s murder is related to the time travel knowledge, then a third friend could be responsible.
“I didn’t notice anything unusual, but I wasn’t looking either. I can take another look at who their shared connections are on Facebook and get back to you.”
“That’d be great. Thanks a lot.”
Maggie ends the conversation and closes down her tablet. She forgot to ask about Stewart and will have to call Trista back later.
Her notes are all over the place and she can’t make heads nor tails of what really happened to Clara. There are plenty of family questions still lurking about, but could she be heading down the wrong trail? Is Ginger Rae right?
She throws everything back into her handbag, pours herself another cup of coffee in the kitchen—this one to go—and heads out to The Coffee Bean. Even though she doesn’t need their coffee to kick start her day, she hopes Ginger Rae, Winona and Erline are there and she can run this all by them.