Perjury Proof Page 2

  “Could you check and see if she’s here? If so, I have a gift for her, but if not, do you have any idea where she might have gone?” I asked as I tried my best to peek around the door. This young woman’s forehead wasn’t the only thing dappled with flour. There was a great deal of it on the floor of the kitchen as well, along with footprints going back and forth in it, tracking the place up like a winter wonderland scene in a picture book.

  “I wish I could drop everything and track her down, but things are kind of crazy right now,” she said after glancing back inside again ever so briefly. Was this poor child so overwhelmed that she was about to have a nervous breakdown, even at her young age?

  It was clear I wasn’t going to get the audience I’d been hoping for, but that didn’t mean that I had to go away without at least making some kind of effort.

  “You must be new in town,” I told her with my brightest smile. “I’ve told you my name. What’s yours?”

  She did her best to smile under what appeared to be trying circumstances, which I was sure they were, given the fact that she’d chosen to work with Maggie Moore. “I’m Leanne Haller,” she said as she offered me a floured hand.

  I took it and found that a firm handshake went along with her attempted smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Leanne. I’m assuming you are here working for Maggie?”

  “Yes. As a matter of fact, Maggie is my aunt,” Leanne said, though it was clear the information gave her no great joy to share.

  “So you must be related to Gabby Williams, too,” I answered.

  “No, I’m from the other side of the family. I suppose we’re related somehow, but not by blood.” It was an odd distinction to make, I thought.

  “How are you enjoying your time in April Springs so far?” I asked, hoping to get something out of this young woman.

  “Honestly, I haven’t seen much of it since I arrived two weeks ago. My aunt has been keeping me busy in the kitchen experimenting with the pies while she handles the business end of things.”

  That news surprised me for some reason. “So then, you’re the pie maker?”

  “Yes, I’ve been baking since I could walk, practically. Aunt Maggie decided to open the business, so she hired me to make the pies.”

  That seemed a bit like the tail wagging the dog to me. “Are you at least equal partners in the business?” I asked her. I knew that it was none of my concern, but somehow it felt as though Maggie was exploiting her niece’s talents if all she brought to the table was the business end of things. I knew how important that aspect was, but without a pie maker, there really wasn’t any business at all.

  “No, but maybe I will be someday. Right now, I’m happy enough just being an employee here,” she said. Her eyes lit up as she asked, pointing to the box in my hands, “Are those the town donuts I’ve been hearing so many good things about?”

  “I certainly hope so. I own Donut Hearts, and I made these myself,” I said as I offered her the box.

  Leanne forgot me for a moment as she opened the box and peered inside. “Is that Boston cream?” she asked. Before I could answer, she took a bite of it, and then smiled. There was nothing timid about her joy in that taste. “That filling is not from a box or a bag, is it?”

  “No, I make most of the fillings myself,” I admitted. Not many folks had that educated a palate, but it mattered to me that my donuts were as fresh and as homemade as I could manage.

  “It’s really excellent,” she said, and then she frowned for a moment.

  “Is something wrong, Leanne?”

  “Maybe there’s something you could help me with, baker to baker. I’m having a little trouble with my custard tarts at the moment. Would you try one and tell me what you think?” She was clearly in a tailspin about it.

  “I’m not sure if I can help, but I’m certainly willing to try.”

  “Excellent,” she said, and then, to my surprise, she shut the door in my face.

  What an odd young woman! I thought about knocking after twenty seconds, but the door suddenly sprang open again. “I’m sorry about that, but Maggie doesn’t allow anyone else inside, and frankly, it’s not worth the scolding I would get if she caught you in here,” she said as she thrust a tart upon me. “There’s just something not right about it, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

  The crust was superb, so I knew that wasn’t the problem. After taking a small bite of the tart, I tried to discern why she was unhappy with it. I agreed, something was not quite perfect, but it was close. “How much lemon zest did you use?”

  “Half a strip,” she said. “I was afraid to use much more. I didn’t want to overpower it. After all, it’s not a lemon tart.”

  “No, but there needs to be more than just a hint. If you use an entire strip of zest, and maybe even a smidge more, it may add that undertone you expect from a good tart.” The reason I could converse so fluently about tarts was because my husband had gone through a phase six months earlier when he’d pled with me to make them. One of the protagonists from a BBC show favored them above all else, and Jake had rued the fact that he couldn’t get fresh custard tarts in our part of North Carolina. I’d taken it as a challenge, and after dragooning my mother into my mission, we’d made tart after tart until we were both satisfied with the results. Jake had been over the moon about them, but after a few months, he’d decided that he’d rather have one of my mother’s pies after all, so we’d dropped our tart making.

  “You’re right. How could I not see that?” she asked.

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. They are still very good right now.”

  “Good isn’t good enough, at least according to my aunt,” she said with a wry smile. I was beginning to like this young lady. “Thanks for the advice, and the donuts.”

  Leanne started to close the door on me when I managed to stop its movement just in time. “I would be happy to help more, if you’d like. My husband’s out of town, so I’ve got loads of time on my hands at the moment.” Jake was still away guarding a CEO in Virginia, a job that had started out to be just two weeks but was now heading into its third month. I’d seen him a time or two since, but ever so briefly. He assured me that he’d be wrapping things up soon, but I’d heard that before. Still, he was happy tracking down the man making threats against his employer, that much I could tell, so I hadn’t pushed it.

  “As much as I would love to take you up on that, I’m afraid that Aunt Maggie would never allow it,” Leanne said ruefully as she pushed the door firmly closed.

  What a curious young woman. She was clearly adept in the kitchen if that tart was any sampling, but I hated the way her aunt had managed to intimidate her. It gave me just one more reason not to like Maggie Moore, not that I’d needed one.

  And then I heard a hard voice from behind me, saying “Suzanne” in a way that made it sound more like a curse than a name.

  I knew that voice too well to even have to turn around to identify the speaker. “Hi, Gabby.”

  “What are you doing here?” she asked me critically.

  So much for pleasantries, then. “I wanted to see if I could smooth things over with your cousin. I’m afraid we got off to a rather rocky start.”

  That seemed to mollify Gabby some, but she still wasn’t totally at ease. “You didn’t even bring a peace offering?”

  “As a matter of fact, I brought donuts, but Maggie wouldn’t or couldn’t see me. I suspect she’s hiding somewhere in the back, but I met Leanne. She seemed really nice.”

  Gabby frowned at that news. “That’s odd.”

  “Why, don’t you like Leanne?” I asked her, deliberately misunderstanding her point. After all, she’d started in on me from the beginning of this conversation, and I wasn’t about to take it easy on her.

  “Leanne is fine. We’re not related by blood, you know,” Gabby said.

  “Why is that so important to everyon
e? She mentioned it herself.”

  “Let’s just say there are some hard feelings between my side of the family and hers. It dates back to nearly a hundred years ago when one of our great-grandfathers was accused of stealing from the other one.” Gabby frowned for a second before adding, “No matter what, she’s still a Haller, even if we are related.”

  “Let me get this straight. You all still have a problem with each other after nearly a hundred years? That’s a little long to hold a grudge, isn’t it?”

  “There’s no way you can understand,” Gabby said dismissively. She brushed past me and knocked on the door with three sharp raps.

  There was no answer at all this time.

  Gabby got close to the door and practically shouted, “Maggie! Leanne! It’s Gabby! Open up and let me in!”

  There was still no reply.

  “Maybe they are tied up,” I said, trying my best not to smile. After all, at least Leanne had answered my summons, even if she hadn’t let me in.

  “Nonsense,” Gabby said. It was clear that she wasn’t about to be thwarted. As she pounded on the door again, I was fearful that it wouldn’t be able to withstand the blows. I also worried about Gabby’s hand. How much more punishment could it take?

  Then, to my surprise, I heard a police car’s siren and saw flashing lights as a squad car tore out from the parking lot across the street and screeched to a halt in the back of the pie shop building where we stood.

  “What’s going on, Chief?” I asked Chief Grant as he raced out of his cruiser. He and my best friend, Grace, were in the final stages of breaking up, or so it looked to me, and that had cooled our relationship as well. I was a big fan of the chief per se, but Grace was more than like a sister to me; we were more a part of each other’s lives than many true siblings I knew.

  “Step aside,” the chief said dismissively.

  “I demand answers,” Gabby said, refusing to do as he instructed.

  “Gabby, don’t push me right now,” he said, and then he banged on the door twice.

  “That won’t do you any good,” Gabby crowed, but then, to our surprise, the door opened and a very shaken Leanne appeared.

  “Where is she?” the chief asked.

  “Back here,” Leanne stammered before starting to collapse. It was interesting to note that she moved to me for support, and not Gabby.

  As the chief disappeared inside, I asked Leanne, “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.” It was clear the poor girl was in a state of shock.

  “What happened, Leanne?” Gabby asked, her voice rattling the wind as she spoke.

  “It’s Maggie. She’s dead.”

  “What do you mean, she’s dead?” Gabby asked her critically.

  “I found her in her office with one of my tarts still in her hand,” Leanne said. Her entire body shook as she spoke, and I wondered how she was ever going to live with herself if her treat had killed her aunt. I’d been accused of something like that myself in the past, but thankfully I’d been exonerated, though not without a great deal of detective work on my part.

  “Is that what killed her?” Gabby asked, studying her with the most ominous glare I’d ever seen in my life.

  “No! Of course not! It must have been the pills,” she said.

  “What pills?” Gabby asked.

  “For her heart. They were scattered everywhere.”

  I had to see this for myself. “Will you be okay?” I asked her.

  “Yes. I think so,” she muttered.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, and then I started inside after the chief of police.

  “Where do you think you are going, Suzanne Hart?” Gabby asked me accusingly.

  “I’m going to see what’s going on for myself,” I said.

  When I found the chief, he was studying Maggie’s body, which was still seated in her chair behind her desk, slumped over. Her face was hard to see since her head was lying on the desktop, but it was unmistakably her. From what I could see, there was nothing peaceful about the way she’d died, and I could smell death in the air.

  The chief of police took a few quick photos with his phone, and I wanted to do the same thing, but I didn’t think that would be acceptable to him. He shook his head in disgust as our gazes met. “How can someone do this to themselves?” he asked as he gestured toward the spilled pills and the empty bottle on the desktop. I spied the tart, identical to the one I’d tasted earlier, still clutched in one of her hands, squeezed nearly beyond recognition. Had she taken a bite to make the pills a little more palatable going down?

  “Is she really dead?” I asked.

  “Yes, she’s cool to the touch. I don’t know how long it took for that girl to find her, but by the time she did, it was too late.”

  “Would you say she’s been dead for longer than twenty minutes, or less than that?” I asked him.

  “I’d say longer, though I’ll need the coroner’s report to be sure,” he said. “Why? When was the last time you saw her?” Then he twigged to something he must have seen coming in. “You brought her donuts. I saw them on my way in.”

  “Twice, as a matter of fact. Well, I gave her the first ones myself, but she accidentally dropped them in front of The Last Page, so I decided to replace them.” There was no reason to speak ill of the dead at that point, so I kept our little spat to myself. After all, I didn’t see how that could contribute to her killing herself. I’d had a friend in college who had suffered from depression, so I knew how serious it could be, but Shandra had been a sensitive soul. Every sling and arrow from the world seemed to impact her. I knew that illness could take many forms, but Maggie hadn’t struck me as someone who would let anything get through her tough-as-nails demeanor. Then again, do we really ever know anyone else, especially after one brief meeting? For all I knew, she’d been struggling with depression for years until she finally succumbed to it.

  “Well, at least it appears that you are in the clear on this one,” the chief said.

  I hadn’t even considered myself out of the clear! “What happens now?” I asked him.

  “We still have to do an autopsy,” he said. “I’ll have my crew take photos and video as a matter of procedure, but this looks like a clear case of suicide to me.” The police chief frowned for a second, and then he studied me a moment or two before speaking. “How’s Grace doing?”

  “I wouldn’t even begin to know how to answer that,” I said a little curtly. He knew whose side I was on.

  “Yeah. Sure. Okay.” We both looked up as we heard EMTs coming through the door. “Suzanne, you need to go.”

  “Sure thing,” I said. I had no desire to be around a dead body anyway, especially if she’d taken her own life. Frankly, I’d been amazed the chief of police hadn’t thrown me out immediately. He must be in some real pain himself, but I couldn’t let myself dwell on that. Grace needed me. After all, Chief Grant had his own friends, including my husband and the mayor, though neither man was in town at the moment. Jake was away for work, while the mayor was taking a little time off after the murder of someone very close to him. I was sorry if that put Chief Grant in a bad place, but there was really nothing I could do about that. Gals before pals, after all, and even though Stephen Grant and I were friends, Grace was a part of me.

  “How bad is it?” Gabby asked me as I emerged from the building. I saw that she was now supporting Leanne, although she looked entirely uncomfortable doing it.

  I just shook my head and turned toward her niece. “Leanne, when was the last time you saw her? Do you recall?”

  “It was quite a bit before you brought us donuts. Remember, I didn’t even know if she was in the building or not when you asked about her. When I’m baking, I tend to lose all track of time,” she said quickly. “Maggie tried one of my first batches of tarts, though that feels as though it was hours ago.”

&nb
sp; “What did she think of it?” I asked.

  “Suzanne, that’s hardly relevant now,” Gabby said, scolding me as always, which seemed to be her fallback position.

  “She said that she thought it was fine, but she really didn’t have a very good sense of taste. It was nearly as bad as her hearing,” Leanne said softly.

  “And yet she wanted to open a pie shop, something that taste is critical for if it is going to have any chance of succeeding,” I said, marveling yet again how some people choose the businesses they run.

  “That’s why she had me,” Leanne said as she continued to stare at the door and started to waver again. I had a hunch she was in shock, and the enormity of what she’d found was just beginning to sink in. I knew I needed to get her out of there, and fast. Her aunt’s body was going to be leaving on a gurney soon enough, and the poor girl didn’t need to go through that.

  “Is there anyone in town who can take care of you?” I asked, getting ready to invite her back to my cottage if there wasn’t. After all, there was plenty of room there. She could have the entire upstairs, including my old bedroom and bath. Honestly, it might be nice having a bit of company.

  “That won’t be necessary. She’s coming with me,” Gabby said as she put a protective arm around her niece.

  My eyebrows must have shot up. I wanted to ask her if that was in spite of the feud, but Gabby didn’t stick around to hear my clever retorts. “I’ll see you later,” I told Leanne gently as Gabby led her away. “Hang in there.”

  “I’ll try. Thanks for being here for me,” she said.

  “You bet,” I answered.

  There was no reason for me to stick around the pie shop once they were both gone. I didn’t have any need to see Maggie’s dead body being wheeled out, especially if it hadn’t been murder. The chief had acted oddly when he’d asked about my best friend, so I decided to see if I could find Grace and see what exactly was going on with the two of them.