Treacherous Tart Read Online Free PDF

Real estate agent Angela Hightower was in early. She was usually an afternoon customer who also came in once a week with her book club. “How is Clara?”
    â€œShe’s well.” Maggie took out her pen and paper. “What kind of pie?”
    â€œI’ll have a slice of the eggnog, and give me a whole mince to go, please.” Angela’s shoulder-length dark-blond hair was half hidden under a midnight-blue beret that matched her wool dress under her chic raincoat. “I happened to notice that her name came up in the dating service a friend of mine uses. Think it’s a typo?”
    Maggie felt Angela’s sharp eyes watching for any sign that would give her away. She wrote down Angela’s order and put her pen back in the pocket of her jeans.
    â€œI don’t know. I don’t use dating services. Are you looking for someone?”
    Angela blushed. Everyone knew she was on her fourth marriage to a man half her age. “Like I said, a friend of mine uses the service.”
    Maggie shrugged, wondering how bad an idea it had been to register her aunt with Durham Singles. She turned to go and get Angela’s pie when the front door swung open and Donald Wickerson stumbled into the pie shop.
    He held out a bloody hand to Maggie, as if reaching for support to steady himself. There was blood on his brown leather coat too. “Clara! Clara!” he gasped.
    Maggie had barely started shouting for help when he collapsed on the dark-blue tile.

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Four
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    M aggie dropped to her knees beside Donald, panic setting in. His eyes were closed and his breathing was labored. His face was very white.
    Maggie urgently scanned the group of inquisitive faces around her, each wanting to know what was going on. “Someone call 911! I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but he needs help!”
    Professor Simpson called for help on his cell. Then he continued to eat pie and sip his coffee without the slightest sign of awareness that anything unusual had happened.
    Someone wadded up a sweater and pushed it under Donald’s head.
    â€œI think he’s been shot.” A young college student gave his assessment. “I had a year of premed before I switched to business management. You want me to take a look at him?”
    â€œNo.” Maggie could already hear sirens coming their way. “Help is on the way. They’ll know what to do.” She went to look for her aunt. The kitchen was empty, and the back door was open. “Aunt Clara?” She could see her aunt’s tiny footprints in the snow, but there was still no sign of her. Maggie thought she was probably outside in the alley with the cat.
    â€œMaggie?” Angela came to the back door. “There’s a man dying in here. What on earth are you doing?”
    â€œLooking for Aunt Clara. She’s been out here feeding some stray cat.”
    She went back inside with Angela. She was right, Maggie decided. One of the shop owners should be there when the police came.
    She wished Aunt Clara would come back. This might be the only time she’d have to say good-bye to Donald.
    â€œIsn’t that Clara’s boyfriend?” Angela murmured as they were walking through the door from the kitchen to the dining area.
    Maggie didn’t answer. Angela was a gossip. She didn’t want to start any rumors. If Donald had been shot, it would be hard enough on Aunt Clara.
    She took a deep breath, knelt on the floor, and looked at Donald again. If it was possible, he was even paler than before. She couldn’t tell if he was still breathing. When would help get there?
    Aunt Clara finally came out of the kitchen to see what was going on. She pushed through the crowd surrounding Donald and gasped. “Maggie, what happened?”
    Maggie got to her feet and put her arm around her aunt. “I don’t know yet. He came in asking for you and collapsed. I think he was injured