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in and examine the body.”
    â€œThe body ?” Aunt Clara’s green eyes were angry and filled with tears. Her voice trembled. “Where is your respect, young man?”
    The lead paramedic hung his head. “You’re right. I apologize, ma’am. Could I help you to a chair before the medical examiner gets here to examine your friend?”
    Aunt Clara nodded and sniffled. She laid Donald’s hand on his chest, and the young man helped her to her feet. “I can’t believe he’s dead.” She rested her hand on his arm as she walked to the nearest chair and sat down.
    Maggie joined her there after she thanked the paramedic for his help. “Oh, Aunt Clara . . . I’m so sorry . . . Are you okay? Can I get you something?”
    â€œI’m as good as I can be with my boyfriend lying dead on the floor in front of me.” Her aunt dabbed at her eyes with one of her old handkerchiefs. She never brought any of her good hankies to the shop. “How is this possible? What happened? Why is there blood on him, Maggie?”
    â€œI’m not sure. Someone will tell us when they know what happened to him.”
    Aunt Clara inclined her head closer to her niece’s. “He came here looking for me. I failed him.He was so good to me. I couldn’t help him.” Maggie saw Ryan standing outside the pie shop, camera in hand. He must have heard about what had happened. Apparently the police weren’t letting him in until the ME arrived and did his job.
    â€œI don’t know. I–I think he wanted to be with you. Maybe he knew he was dying. We’ll know when the police clear this up.”
    Aunt Clara couldn’t get over seeing Donald that way. She used her hankie to cover her eyes. “It’s like some terrible nightmare.”
    Ryan waved to Maggie and held up his cell phone. Her phone started ringing.
    â€œI guess we’ll find out if Ryan knows anything.”
    â€œWhat’s going on in there, Maggie?” Ryan asked when she answered.
    So much for Ryan knowing anything about it. “Donald Wickerson is dead.”
    â€œThat’s crazy! What happened? When did it happen?”
    â€œI don’t think he had a chance to read your article about him, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Maggie filled him in on the details and watched through the window as his eyes widened with surprise as the information sank in.
    â€œIt was probably someone from his past. Probably a relative of one of the women he killed.”
    â€œMaybe.” Maggie looked up to see Frank Waters enter the pie shop. “I have to go. Talk to you later.”
    Frank Waters was a tall, thin man—a little hard-faced but a good cop.
    At least Maggie thought so. She saw his gaze drift around the pie shop until it found hers. He beckoned to her and walked into the kitchen.
    â€œFrank wants to talk to us.” Maggie took her aunt’s hand. “Are you up for it? If not, I’ll tell him he has to talk to you later.”
    Aunt Clara squared her slender shoulders and pushed herself to the fullest height of her slight stature. “I’m as ready as I can be. Poor Donald. We have to help Frank find his killer. That’s all we can do for him now.”
    The police officers let them join Frank in the kitchen, where he was perched on the stool Ryan often occupied.
    â€œYou two know it’s Christmastime, right? I haven’t done a lick of shopping for my wife or my kids. I should be out doing that right now. It’s my day off.”
    â€œOf course we know it’s Christmas,” Maggie said. “It’s not like we want you to be here investigating this, whatever it is. Donald came in here, covered in blood, and fell over. It had nothing to do with us.”
    â€œIt most certainly is our fault, Maggie. Donald came here looking for help. We let him down. Well, I let him down. I should have been here, not