be looking for a bookkeeper.”
“Reaaaaally?” Sheri asked. “I thought Claudia Hughes had a lock on that job.”
“She took the secretary job at the high school,” Maggie said. “Same hours as her kids and summers off, which is pretty hard to beat.”
“Huh, you don’t say,” Sheri said.
“If Summer asks, no I didn’t,” Maggie said. “I doubt she’d appreciate my telling you about other opportunities, and I really need to talk to her about her mother.”
Sheri rolled her eyes. “Ah, yes, Blair. That woman has been riding me from the moment she arrived in town. I swear if she makes one more crack about my weight, I’m going to sit on her while eating a double scoop, triple brownie hot fudge sundae of which I will savor every bite.”
“She does inspire that sort of reaction,” Maggie agreed. “Do you know where Summer went to lunch?”
“She said she was stopping at home to grab some things she’d picked up for the shop,” Sheri said. “Good luck talking to her about her mother. She thinks that woman is perfect, and is trying to be exactly like her.”
Maggie frowned. That was not good news. She’d been hoping that Summer was tired of her mother, too. Oh, well, they still needed to have a conversation about Blair’s attempts to buy Sam, and Summer was going to listen whether she wanted to or not.
“Thanks, Sheri, and good luck with the job that I never mentioned,” Maggie said.
Sheri grinned and waved to her as she left. Maggie hurried back to her shop to grab her purse. She hated to close in the middle of the day, but honestly, she didn’t feel as if she had a choice.
She flipped the store sign to CLOSED and hurried to her car, which was parked down the street. Summer lived on the edge of the center of town in a small bungalow built back in the days when the wire factory was still in business and needed pop-up housing for its workers. The neighborhood had gone from a mid-century utopia for families to a blight on St. Stanley and was now on a surge into artsy housing for unmarried singles and couples who planned to stay that way.
Maggie practiced what she planned to say to Summer the entire ride over. She tried it in her calm and reasonable “let’s be adult about this” tone, then she tried it in her angry “I’m going to kick your butt” tone. She preferred the calm and reasonable tone, but she had a feeling angry and butt-kicking was the only thing that was going to get through to Summer.
She parked in front of Summer’s house and decided to call Sam. Given Summer’s usual histrionics, she didn’t want her calling Sam and lying about this visit, saying that Maggie had threatened her or stalked her or whatever.
Sam answered his office line on the second ring. “Sheriff Collins.”
“So official,” Maggie teased.
“Well, if I’d known it was the prettiest lady in town calling, I would have answered entirely differently,” he said.
Maggie felt the same thrill she always did when Sam’s voice dropped an octave and whispered in her ear.
“Would you now?” she asked.
“Yes, I would,” he said. His voice was almost a growl, and Maggie felt her heart rate kick up as memories of the night before made her blush.
She cleared her throat. “Well, I hate to divert your attention, but this is actually an official call.”
“It is? What’s up?” he asked. His voice was immediately that of a law enforcement professional.
“I’m at Summer’s house,” Maggie said. She got out of her car and walked up the path to Summer’s front door.
“Why are you there?” he asked. He sounded confused and concerned.
“Because Summer has to call her mother off,” Maggie said.
There was a pause and then Sam asked, “What happened?”
“Blair came into the shop today and tried to buy me off,” Maggie said. Her voice was sharp with outrage and she could feel her temper igniting again.
“Beg pardon?” Sam asked. “I think we have a bad connection. I thought you