1 Murder on Sugar Creek (7 page)

Chapter Nine

Maggie went to the movies with Luke
the following evening. She didn’t find the movie, a horror flick, scary or
memorable, but she had a splendid time. Luke didn’t like the movie, either, and
his running commentary on its most outrageous plotlines kept her entertained.
At least it did until Maggie’s laughter provoked a group of teenagers to shush
her and Luke. Maggie returned to work Monday morning feeling refreshed. She had
enjoyed two days in which she hadn’t given so much as a thought to the Mac
Honaker murder or the fallout from the columns. But she realized she couldn’t
hide from reality forever. When Joe arrived at work, she marched into his
office before he had a chance to turn on his computer.

“I think we need to talk,” she
said.

“Good morning to you, too, Maggie.”

“Sorry to ambush you like this, but
I wanted to make sure we were all right.”

“Is this about those columns?” Joe
motioned for Maggie to take a seat.

“Yeah,” she averted her eyes while
she searched for the right words. “I think I need to explain my behavior.”

“Explain or explain away?”

“Just explain. I’m not making
excuses.”

“In that case, continue.”

“I was trying to help Kevin and it
was wrong to use my job to do so, but I couldn’t think of another way to get an
in with Mac’s inner circle. I didn’t share my true intentions with you because
I knew you wouldn’t approve.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t have.” Joe
tapped a pencil on his desk blotter. “This behavior is uncharacteristic of you,
Maggie. To be honest, that’s the only reason I’m not angry with you. I am
disappointed. And puzzled. And worried.  Is there something more going on between
you and Kevin Mullins?”

Maggie puckered her lips like she
had just then popped a Lemon Head candy into her mouth. “Oh, Lord, no. Kevin’s
four years younger than me, addicted to drugs, and a petty thief. Is that what
you think I’m attracted to? Is that what people think of me?”

“No, no. I meant, in the past
tense.”

“Absolutely not. I’ve always
thought of him as a kid chasing chickens or trying to catch pigs with my
brother. I’ve never had designs on him.”

“That’s good to know,” Joe
admitted. “And I understand you possess a strong sense of justice, but why do
you feel you need to save Kevin? And what did you think you’d learn from those
interviews that would help him?”

Try as she
might, Maggie couldn’t answer Joe’s questions.

Seth was the next name on Maggie’s
apology to-do list. She took a chance he would be working day shift and tracked
him down at the Dinner Bucket Diner.

Opened in 1952, the Dinner Bucket,
as locals called it, was named in honor of the black lunch buckets used by coal
miners. The diner’s founder, the daughter of a coal miner, placed the lunch
bucket carried by her late father in the diner’s glass counter display case. Although
the lady sold the diner in the 1990s and died a couple years later, her
father’s lunch bucket remained the centerpiece of the display. Maggie
frequented the diner for its fried pork chops and potato salad, both of which
she considered the best she had ever eaten, and for its nostalgia. During
childhood trips to Jasper, there was never a question of where to eat lunch. On
those visits, Maggie always sat in a booth beside her dad and opposite her mom
and Mark. The sight of the old lunch bucket evoked other memories for Maggie.
With just one glance at it, she could smell the coal dust and taste the 3
Musketeer bars and Atomic Fireballs her dad brought her and Mark every evening
when he came home from his shift at the mines.

These memories and others swirled
in Maggie’s mind, but once she spotted Seth sitting with a few of his fellow police
officers at a table near the back of the diner, she tried to concentrate on the
task at hand. As she approached Seth’s table, she said, “I knew I’d find you
here. Do you have a minute?”

She caught Seth in the middle of chewing,
so he held up one finger to indicate he needed a moment. While he finished his
bite of club sandwich, one of his dining companions teased Maggie.

“Watch what you’re saying, boys, we
have a reporter in our midst,” the officer said.

“That’s right,” Maggie countered,
“I’ll quote every one of you on the piece I’m writing about the town’s fodder shock
contest.” 

Maggie’s quip elicited laughter
from each of the table’s inhabitants including Seth, who had risen from his
chair. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “No one touch my food or spit in my
Pepsi.”

Maggie and Seth walked outside the
diner to talk.

“The days are getting colder,” Seth
noted as he zipped his windbreaker. “Listen, Maggie, I’m sorry about the phone
call. I was out of line.”

“No, you weren’t. That’s why I’m
here. I want to apologize for lying to you. Of course, when I promised you I
would let it go, I had every intention of letting it go, so I didn’t lie to you
at the time. That doesn’t change the facts, though.”

“It’s just,” Seth winced, “that I’m
worried about you, Maggie. I don’t know why you’ve designated yourself Kevin
Mullins’ savior. Or what you thought you’d accomplish by talking to those
people.”

“Wow,” Maggie jerked her head back.
“Have you been talking to Joe? He said almost the same thing to me this
morning.”

“At the very least, I hope we’re
giving you something to think about.”

“You are.”

“Good. Because I have to ask, what
were you going to do if you had uncovered something during those interviews?”

“That’s easy. I would have gone to the
police.”

“That’s what I want to hear.” Seth
looked at the diner’s lunch bucket-shaped sign, which hung overhead. “I don’t
know if you remember –”

“This is where we had our first
date.”

Seth tilted his head. “Do you still
eat here?”

“Of course, I do. I’ve eaten here
most of my life.”

“Fried pork chops and potato
salad?”

“Right.”

“Why don’t you join us? Me and the
guys will make room for you.”

“That’s okay. I’m meeting someone
for lunch.”

“Maybe another time then.”

As Maggie
walked down the street to join Luke for lunch at the sub shop, she couldn’t
help but wonder what Seth had meant by extending that invitation.

After a pleasant lunch with Luke,
Maggie returned to work, finished the fodder shock story, and proofed copy for
Joe and the sports editor. When she completed her tasks, she decided to check
her email one more time before turning off her computer and closing up shop for
the day. Her inbox contained three new messages – one obit, one news release
from Jasper tourism, and one message that appeared to be spam. She clicked on
the latter message, which read, “Saw your stories about Mac Honaker. He was not
a good person. Just ask anyone who worked with him. I’m surprised it took this
long for somebody to kill him.”

Chapter Ten

“This pizza is great, but I cannot
eat one more bite,” Maggie said as she pushed the pan toward Edie.

“No way,” Edie said as she pushed
the pan toward Ben, who grabbed another slice. “I’m going to have to fling
myself to the floor and crawl to the car as it is.”

“Thanks for suggesting this place,”
Maggie turned to Luke, who sat beside her in the booth. “It’s some of the best
pizza I’ve ever eaten, yet I didn’t even know this place existed. I guess
because it’s located at the other end of the county.”

“I’m glad you liked it. A customer
at the bank recommended it to me.” Luke looked to Edie and Ben. “Not bad for a
restaurant that’s in the sticks.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Maggie joined
in. “Try finding pizza this good in the teeming metropolis of Jasper.”

Edie said, “Whatever,” and chomped
on a straw.

“Speaking of good food, when are
you going to have us over again, Maggie?” Ben asked.

“Ben,” Edie elbowed her husband in
the ribs. “It’s rude to invite yourself.”

“That’s all right,” Maggie assured
Edie. “Any time would be good. Well, a weekend would be optimal. I don’t have
the time to cook a big meal when I get home from work. I’m too slow.”

“That’s why you should rely on
casseroles, which you can make ahead, or crockpots,” Edie said in a sing-song
voice.

“How would you handle cooking if you
had a husband?”

Ben’s comments drew another elbow
to the ribs from his wife, who said, “Seriously, Ben, I can’t take you
anywhere.”

Far from feeling embarrassed,
Maggie retorted, “Unless he wanted takeout or macaroni and cheese every night,
he would have to cook.” When the laughter died down, she said, “Hey, Ben, Edie
told me you worked at the shoe store with Mac Honaker.”

“She tells the truth.”

“What was he like?”

Ben twisted his mouth. “Despite
what I later learned about him, I still consider him one of the best – if not
the best – boss I’ve ever had.”

“Are you talking about the store
owner who was murdered a couple weeks ago? The one you wrote the columns about?”
Luke asked Maggie.

Maggie nodded. She felt proud of
Luke for using the correct newspaper terminology. “When you say ‘what I later
learned about him,’ are you referring to the embezzlement?” she asked Ben.

 “Yeah. Of course, I didn’t know
that at the time. I was going to college and I appreciated him for working around
my school schedule. And he was nice enough to let me study during downtime. He
was like that with everybody. As long as you got the work done and let him know
when you needed time off, he was great. He was generous with his time and
money. I left my wallet home one day, so I skipped lunch. When Mac went out for
lunch, he brought a burger and some fries back to the store for me. He wouldn’t
let me pay him back, either.” Ben chuckled. “But I guess you can be generous
when it’s someone else’s money.”

“How much did he steal?” Maggie asked.

“I’m not exactly sure, but I heard
it was around twelve thousand dollars.”

“Goodness.” Maggie crossed her arms
and leaned on the table. “Why didn’t the store press charges against him?”

“They didn’t want the embarrassment
or the attention. Besides, his dad reimbursed them. That’s ultimately what
saved him from prosecution.”

“Did any of his employees have a
problem with him?”

“Not that I was aware of.”

“Where are these questions coming
from, Maggie?” Edie asked.

“After the columns ran, I received
an email advising me that Mac wasn’t a good person. The person who sent the
email suggested I talk to anyone who worked with him.”

“Huh,” Luke
said. “The power of the press.”

While preparing dinner for Luke,
Edie, Ben, and her parents the following Saturday afternoon, Maggie realized
she was out of buttermilk.

“No buttermilk, no cornbread,” she
said and headed to her parents’ house. She found Lena watching
Sewing With
Nancy
and Robert waking from a nap. “Can I borrow some buttermilk?” she
asked.

“I guess somebody didn’t check her ingredients
before she started cooking.” Lena didn’t take her eyes off the TV. “Get what
you need.”

I guess somebody’s in a mood,
Maggie thought to herself. “Thanks. You two are coming over for dinner, aren’t
you? I want you to meet Luke.”

“Dinner? I thought you were making
supper?”

Her parents’ insistence on
referring to their midday meal as dinner and their evening meal as supper
always tripped up Maggie, as did their insistence that evening was synonymous
with afternoon. “I am, Daddy. I misspoke.”

“What are we having?” he asked.

“Soup beans, fried potatoes, and
cornbread.”

Robert frowned. “Is that all?
Where’s the meat?”

“I never know what kind of meat to
make with soup beans.”

“What’s wrong with salmon patties?”
Robert asked.

Maggie mentally corrected her dad’s
pronunciation of sal-mun and asked, “You mean, other than stinking up the
house?”

“Well, next time, throw a ham hock
in there.”

“I don’t like meat cooked with my
beans, Daddy.”

“That’s what gives them flavor,”
Robert said, “but I guess you can’t complain too much about a free meal. What’s
for dessert?”

“Apple butter and graham cracker
cake.”

“We’ll be there,” Robert assured
her. “You just make sure you make enough – of everything – for us.”

“I will.” As Maggie made her way
toward the refrigerator, she couldn’t help but notice her parents’ bills lying
on the bakers rack. When she walked back to the living room, she said, “Daddy,
remember when you told me that Mac Honaker stole from his insurance customers?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“How did you know that?”

Robert knitted his eyebrows. “Who
told us about that, Lena?”

“It had to be Sylvie Johnson.”

“The talkative woman you used to
sew with?”

Lena rolled her eyes with such
vigor that Maggie expected them to become frozen while pointed toward her
forehead. “We didn’t sew together, Maggie. When one of us would get behind on
our work, the other one would help her.”

“That’s what I said.” Maggie closed
her eyes and counted to ten. She knew better than to poke an ill-tempered Lena’s cage. “How did Sylvie know about Mac’s theft?”

Lena finally directed her big brown eyes toward her daughter. “Because he stole from her.”

Maggie wanted her parents to like
Luke, so during the introductions, she reminded Robert and Lena that he had
grown up on a small farm. When Luke mentioned he had bought his first used car
with money earned cleaning barns, Lena said, “A little hard work only hurts the
lazy.”

With that task accomplished, Maggie
left her hostess by proxy, Edie, who was modeling her new black boots, to entertain
the guests while she set the table. She was counting out the forks when Ben
joined her.

“Did Edie send you in here to help
me?”

“No, but I can help you.” Ben
picked up the stack of plates Maggie had retrieved from the cabinet. “Actually,
I wanted to talk to you.”

“If this is about there being no
meat at the meal, Daddy is disappointed, too.”

“I’m sure the meal will be
delicious and, as Edie has pointed out, I can get all the protein I need from
the beans,” Ben placed the dishes on the table. “This isn’t about food. It’s
about Mac Honaker. I thought of something else the other night, but I didn’t
want to mention it in front of Luke. He’s a good guy, but I don’t know how
he’ll feel about this because it involves the bank.”

“Mac and the bank?” Maggie poured
the beans into the same chipped serving bowl her mommaw had first used in the
1970s.

“No, Mac’s wife, Carla, and the
bank. In those stories you wrote, Carla told you she was going to sell the
store because she could barely keep up with the demands of her business, let
alone Mac’s store.” Ben took the bowl from Maggie and sat it in the middle of
the table. “This goes no further.” When Maggie nodded, he continued, “Her business
loan came through the bank, so I know it was not doing well. In fact, she was
in foreclosure. She came to the bank the week after Mac died and asked for
another extension, which we granted because she’s set to get a sizable payout
from Mac’s life insurance policy. It will more than cover her loan.”

Maggie’s attempt to make sense of
Ben’s news was thwarted by Robert, who stuck his head inside the kitchen and
asked, “Is it time to eat? My dinner’s wearing off.”