Free Plum Deadly by Ellie Grant

locksmith. They were going to have a dead bolt on the outside doors before they went to sleep that night. It was going to be hard enough not to jump at every noise they heard as they were going to sleep, even with the doors locked up tight.
    Maggie believed Lou’s death, the breakin, and losing her job were connected, proof or no proof. She didn’t know how or why, but she felt it inside. She had to think of a way to prove it to Frank.
    For now, the killer/thief knew there was no proof toworry about. He’d probably already looked through her laptop and not found anything of substance. There was so little there, he’d probably sleep well that night while she and Aunt Clara were shivering in their beds.
    She’d felt so fortunate when the bank had decided not to press charges. She’d thought if she could only get home again, everything would be fine. That hadn’t worked out quite as she’d planned.
    It suddenly hit her that the bank might not have pressed charges because the person who’d made that decision was the one guilty of embezzlement. Maggie felt as if a cartoon lightbulb lit up on top of her head.
    After all, a police investigation might have uncovered her innocence, and the other person’s guilt. Of course, she had no idea who that was. Only Lou would have known that information. He’d carried it with him to the grave.
    Now all she had to do was convince someone else to see it that way and find enough information to give Frank something to investigate. Any way she looked at it was maddening.
    Neither of the women wanted to finish the piecrust that night. When everything was back where it belonged, they huddled over the kitchen table, whispering, until the locksmith got there. It was as though they were too scared to raise their voices for fear of being overheard.
    The locksmith was a jolly man with a booming voice. He commiserated with them over the breakin and told them terrible stories about other breakins he’d worked before. The stories were so fantastic that Aunt Clara and Maggie actually began to feel a little better. At least they were still alive.
    He put in two new locks and dead bolts in each door and even did a temporary repair on the front door so they could close it without the duct tape.
    The reporters almost mauled him for information as he worked on the front door. Aunt Clara paid him when he was finished and Maggie let him out through the back door.
    It was expensive—Maggie hoped Aunt Clara could afford it. She vowed to pay her back as soon as she had some money of her own. This was her responsibility. She felt bad that Aunt Clara was not only dragged into it, but had to finance it too.
    When the press finally went away, Aunt Clara and Maggie tested the new locks. The doors were secure. Each of them put their new keys away in safe places, although neither of them felt a lot safer.
    “Now what?” Aunt Clara jumped as the doorbell rang. They both crept to the front door together and Maggie peered through the peephole.
    It was Ryan. He’d heard about the breakin on the police scanner that he monitored for the paper. “Are you two okay?”
    Maggie stepped back and let him in the house.
    He studied their pale, frightened faces. “You both look a little shaken.”
    “We’re fine,” Maggie said raggedly. She realized she was holding both her hands in tight fists and forced herself to relax.
    “Fine might not be the best word,” Aunt Clara said. “We’ve survived so far. It’s been a long day.”
    She offered to make coffee for him. Ryan suggested theyall go out for dinner. “It’s after eight and I haven’t eaten. I don’t think you have either. It would do you both good to get out of the house. My treat.”
    Maggie and Aunt Clara went with him reluctantly.
    Aunt Clara had offered to stay home so she could make sure everything was safe. “Plus I don’t know if I can eat anything tonight. I think you two should go without me.”
    Maggie finally convinced her to go—and locked