1 Murder on Sugar Creek (10 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Maggie and Seth sat on opposite
sides of a table in the break room. Just as she opened her mouth to inquire
about his mother, he said, “Edie called me.”

 “Oh, no,” Maggie covered her eyes
with her hands. “I knew she would blow this out of proportion.”

“Is she? Because she told me somebody
broke into your home and, for lack of a better word, kidnapped Barnaby. That
doesn’t sound like blowing anything out of proportion.”

Maggie uncovered her eyes. “Please
don’t interrogate me. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Seth bit his lower lip. “You’re
right. I’m sorry. Anyway, Edie said your parents are skeptical.”

“Yeah, they must think Luke and I
shared a hallucination.”

Seth narrowed his eyes. “Luke?”

“Yeah, this guy I’ve been seeing.
He was with me. Didn’t Edie tell you?”

“No.” Seth rested his chin on his right
hand. “This changes everything.”

“Oh, I understand. When it was just
me, you thought I was imaging things. Well, it really happened, Seth.”

He sat back in his chair. “I
believe you, Maggie, and I’m sure you were scared to death. I remember when you
got Barnaby. When we rescued those puppies from the puppy mill, I told my
partner one of them would find a good home with you. And, of course, you chose
the runt. You’re always pulling for the underdogs, literally and figuratively.”

For the second time in less than an
hour, Maggie felt uncomfortable. She didn’t understand why Seth was waxing
poetic about an event that had occurred one week before their breakup. “Why did
you come here today?”

“Because I’m worried about you. You
should have called the police that night.”

“I wanted to, but Mom and Daddy
acted like I had lost my mind.”

Seth scratched his neck. “It’s
probably too late now to find anything, but I could come out and look around.
Unofficially, of course.”

“That would be great.”

“Have you been staying at the house
or are you with Robert and Lena?”

“They won’t allow Barnaby in the
house and I won’t leave him, so there you go. I’m staying put.”

Seth took a few seconds before
asking, “Maggie, why do you think this happened? Do you think it has anything
to do with Mac Honaker’s murder? Edie said you’re still snooping around.”

Maggie allowed her arms to fall
onto the table. “I talked to his family and an employee of his. I wrote a few
columns. You read them. Did you find a smoking gun hidden between the tales of
Mac’s generosity?” Maggie intentionally withheld the results of her conversation
with Sylvie Johnson as well as the mysterious email message she had received.

“No, but I’m not the murderer.”

“If this is related to the murder,
then you know what it means?”

“What?” Seth asked.

“That Kevin’s innocent.”

“Maggie –”

“Hear me out. Nothing in those
interviews concerns Kevin. Besides, he wouldn’t break into my house. At least
not without stealing something.”

Seth smiled. “I’m glad you’re showing
some signs of rational thought. But if Kevin is the killer, he wouldn’t
hesitate to hurt you or your dog or anybody else to protect himself. As for the
interviews not implicating him, how can you know that? You just admitted that
you didn’t hear anything that sent up red flags. How can you be so sure that
Kevin didn’t read something in there that alerted him?”

Maggie hunched her shoulders.
“Because he was upset with me when they didn’t exonerate him. He confronted me
in the parking lot.”

Seth’s smile faded. “Are you trying
to prove my point?”

“No, but your point is taken. It’s
just –”

“What?”

“Nothing.”
Maggie didn’t mention to Seth that she told Kevin’s dad she might be onto
something. At this juncture, she didn’t know if that would help Kevin or hurt him.

Maggie sat on the floor of her
living room. Barnaby lay at her side and color-coded index cards were spread in
front of her. After talking to Seth, she had decided to become more proactive.
She had tired of moping and fretting and had resumed her workouts and
re-focused her mind. She needed to find Mac Honaker’s killer and, in the
process, Barnaby’s kidnapper.

One by one, she examined the cards,
which held the names of everyone she connected to the murder as well as notes
that suggested suspicious behavior. On Dottie’s card, she made three entries –
lazy mooching grandson, bristled at mention of lottery, confusion over security
cameras; on Bug’s – discovered the body, cut the interview short, confusion
over security cameras; on Carla’s – the spouse is always the first suspect,
misrepresented the success of her business; on Rhonda’s – the ex-spouse is also
considered a likely suspect, he cheated on her, she might resent his
relationship with Carla and their relative success; on Kevin’s – seen near the
crime scene, fired a gun that morning, paid off drug debt;  and on Mac’s – stole
from two previous employers and insurance customers.

Maggie studied
Mac’s card and said, “There’s got to be something we’re missing, Barnaby.”  Barnaby
ignored her and ran to the front door. Almost immediately, the doorbell rang.
Maggie gathered the cards, placed them on the coffee table, and opened the door
for Seth.

Maggie and Seth, accompanied by an
active Barnaby, walked across her back yard. When they reached the fence, Seth
stopped walking and looked to the right toward Maggie’s parents’ house.

“Your folks’ place is well-lit and
close to the hill. I don’t think anybody would risk getting to you from there
or taking a dog behind their house. I know you say Barnaby doesn’t bark much,
but this person had no way of knowing that,” Seth explained.

“Actually, my aunt and uncle said
they did hear a dog bark a couple times that night, but they assumed it was a
stray.”

With his head, Seth indicated a
ranch house about a quarter of a mile up the road. “They live up there, right?”
When Maggie nodded, he asked, “Do you still own the barn across the bridge?”

“Yeah, it’s not like I would sell
it. That was Poppaw’s barn and we’ve always raised a garden in the bottom.”

“Relax.” Seth said. “I thought you
might have sold it to your uncle or a cousin. Shall we?”

With Barnaby in the lead, the trio
crossed the small wooden bridge that spanned the creek and led to a field on
which the barn sat.

Seth chuckled when he saw the
remains of an expansive garden. “I see your uncle and Robert are still growing
enough vegetables to feed everybody on Sugar Creek.”

“We dug twenty-five bushels of potatoes
last month,” Maggie said smiling.

“When did they get lazy? I remember
helping them dig twenty-eight bushels one year.” Seth kicked a rock. “Just
being here reminds my muscles of all that squatting and crawling around on the
ground.”

“Every year, I forget how tiring
the chore is.” Maggie sighed. “But, once I start pulling potatoes out of the ground,
it only takes a couple minutes for me to remember.” She looked at the plowed
earth a few minutes before saying, “Let’s check the barn.”

When they stepped inside, sunlight
streamed through the doors and between the wooden planks.

“There’s no electricity in here,
but there are a couple lanterns,” Maggie said.

“That’s okay.” Seth produced a
flashlight from his jacket. “This might be unofficial, but it’s still an
investigation.” He halted and shone the light on the corner of the barn.
“What’s he doing?”

Maggie followed the light and saw
Barnaby sniffing and pawing the barn floor. “Barna –”

“Shh. Let’s go over there and take
a peek,” Seth suggested.

They found Barnaby chewing and nosing
around old tires and empty barrels in a quest for more food. His actions scared
Maggie, who grabbed the flashlight and sank to her knees. “It could be poison.”
Her search produced a handful of dry dog food. “No,” she commanded to Barnaby
and put the food in the pocket of her jeans.

“Does your uncle have a dog?” Seth
asked.

“No.”

“Who has access to this barn?”

“Daddy and my uncle and anybody
else who wanders by.” Maggie swept her hand across the air. “They keep a
tiller, a plow, an old tractor, and all these tools in here but never remember
to lock the door.”

“It must run in the family.” When
Maggie didn’t protest, Seth continued, “Would either of them have any reason to
keep dog food in here?”

“No. Unlike me, they don’t feed strays
and Barnaby’s the only dog in the head of the holler. Besides, they wouldn’t keep
anything in here that might attract critters.” Maggie paused. “Wait a minute. A
few days before this happened, I was in here helping Daddy. Barnaby was with
us. He roamed around before finding a spot near the door and resting. He didn’t
eat anything or spend much time over here. I would have noticed.”

Seth scratched his head. “Maggie,
whoever took Barnaby probably brought him in here and kept him until you got
home.” He moved to the doors. “You can see your house from here.”

Maggie joined him. “But where would
they have come from?”

Seth walked outside the barn. He
looked up the road toward Maggie’s uncle’s house, across the creek to Maggie’s
house, at the hill that led to the family cemetery, and, finally, behind the
barn. With the flashlight still in his hand, he pointed to the hill behind the barn.
“It’s not steep and, all things considered, not too tall, either. There’s even
a path that goes to the top.”

“Mark, our cousins, and I climbed
that path when we were little. From the top, you can see everything – the road,
our houses,” Maggie shuddered, “everything.”

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll find the
person who did this and we’ll keep you safe.”

Maggie nodded. “It’s just creepy knowing
somebody was watching me. They knew when I left and when I came back.” She
pulled Barnaby toward her. “And they had him.”

Seth stared at Barnaby. “He’s a
friendly dog. I’ll bet it didn’t take much to get him out of the house. The
food probably kept him from becoming too antsy in the barn.”

A grateful Barnaby panted as Maggie
tickled behind his ears. “He did bark, though, and he wouldn’t leave me that
night. He seemed scared.”

Seth lowered himself to Barnaby’s
level. “I’d say the big guy missed his momma.” As he scratched under the dog’s
head, Seth said, “Now, we need to talk to Robert.”

“Why?”

“So we can find out what’s on the
other side of that hill.”

Maggie winced. “We don’t have to
ask Daddy. I know what’s on the other side of that hill. Little Elm Fork.”

“Kevin Mullins’ home?”

Maggie’s sigh served as her answer.

Chapter Fifteen

Maggie looked out the passenger
side window of her dad’s pickup truck and wished he had taken her up on her offer
to drive. She had always considered Robert a slow driver, but the pace in which
he lumbered along in the truck gave her enough time to count the few remaining
leaves that clung to the roadside trees. At least that’s what it felt like to
her. The sight of a lone elm tree in someone’s yard reminded her of Seth’s visit
to her house the previous day. After the revelation that Little Elm Fork
connected to her property, Seth had seemed more convinced than ever that Kevin
had killed Mac Honaker and kidnapped Barnaby in an effort to intimidate her.

Maggie wasn’t so sure. To her, it
made no sense that Kevin would ask for her help only to break into her house
and steal her dog. She also put no stock in Seth’s assertion that she had
uncovered something Kevin assumed would stay hidden. There’s nothing there, she
had repeated to herself. Nothing to incriminate Kevin. Or anybody else.

Or maybe I don’t want to see it,
she reasoned. Maybe I don’t want to admit I’m a bad judge of character. Maybe
I’ve read all those mysteries and watched all those crime shows for nothing. Maybe
I’m just a trusting softie.

But the other component to Maggie’s
personality asked, would a trusting softie install a security system in her
home? In the wake of Barnaby’s disappearance, she worried and stressed to the
point of exhaustion. After enduring sleepless nights and harassing her parents
with phone calls during the days, she had purchased security systems for
herself and for them. It gave her peace of mind and allowed her and her parents
to leave their homes unattended at the same time.

“Did you lock the barn, Daddy?” she
asked Robert.

“I shore did.”

“Maggie,” her mom asked. “What type
of egg did Luke have?”

“I think it was a Western omelet.”

“It looked good,” Robert said.

“Did you all like the food?” Maggie
asked.

“Yeah. It’s wasn’t as good as your
mother’s breakfast, but the biscuits tasted good,” Robert said. “They just
crumbled in your hands.”

“What about you, Mom?”

“I enjoyed it. They fixed my egg
exactly as I asked. Not everyone can fry an egg without breaking the yolk.”

Maggie had not predicted a positive
outcome while trying to convince them to have brunch with Luke at a lodge in a
neighboring county.

“That’s an awful far piece to drive
for a meal,” Robert had argued.

“I told you. We don’t have to drive
the whole way. We’ll meet Luke in Jasper and he’ll drive to the restaurant,”
Maggie had explained.

“I don’t have to go all over the
country to find something to eat,” Lena had said.

“It’s not all over the country,
Mom. It’s in the next county. Listen, you can go or not go, but I think it’s
nice of Luke to extend the invitation.”

She eventually won that battle, but
she was not as successful in her quest to chauffeur her parents to town, and
Luke lost out on his bid to pay for everyone’s meal. When it came time to
settle with the waiter, Robert reached for his wallet.

“I’ve got this,” Luke had stated.

“No, you don’t. I’m paying for mine
and Mother’s. We ain’t on relief,” Robert had said.

Despite these minor blemishes,
Maggie proclaimed the outing a success. As her parents continued to discuss the
meal, her eyes drifted to the Sugar Creek landscapes. She saw Mac Honaker’s
store and the tops of bare trees that lined Sugar Creek Mountain. When Mac’s
house came into view, she remembered discussing the home with Rhonda. Usually
not a fan of asymmetrical architecture, Maggie made an exception for the
Honakers’ English cottage. It wasn’t the biggest or most expensive home on
Sugar Creek, but Maggie considered the house and its pale yellow door the most
inviting. As they passed the residence, Maggie asked her parents, “Was Mac
Honaker raised in that gray house beside his cottage?”

 “Yeah,” Lena answered. “But it was
a white house when he lived there.”

“Who lives there now?” Maggie
asked.

“Bernice’s boy.”

“No,” Lena corrected Robert. “It’s
Blanche’s boy.”

“No, it’s Bernice’s,” Robert
countered.

“No, Bernice’s boy has light-colored
hair and Blanche’s boy has darker hair. The boy that lives there has dark hair,
so he must be Blanche’s boy.”

“Well, he must have dyed it cause
Bernice’s boy lives there.”

“I know what I’m talking about,” Lena grumbled.

“So do I,” Robert retorted.

“Enough,” Maggie interjected. “Who
are Blanche and Bernice?”

“Mildred’s girls.”

“Who’s Mildred?”

“She is, well, she’s dead now so I
guess she was Mac’s aunt,” Lena said. “She was a sister to his dad. She married
a man from above town. That’s where they lived and raised their girls. They
ain’t girls no more. They were about Mac’s age.” Lena addressed Robert. “Am I
right?”

“Almost. They lived below town.”

Maggie held up her hands. “Above or
below? It doesn’t matter. How did the son of Blanche or Bernice end up with the
house?”

Lena shrugged. “I guess he bought
it. Or Blanche bought it for him.”

“I’d say
that’s right,” Robert offered. “Except it was Bernice.”

When Maggie heard Tyler and Joe, whose
exchanges had been coolly professional since their spat, discuss the logistics
of obtaining the list of indictments, she volunteered to pick up the papers.

“I need to go to the courthouse
anyway, so I’ll swing by and get the indictments for you, Tyler. I know you’re
waiting on a phone call from the school board and you have to finish that story
and write the city council story as well. Not to mention peruse the indictments
for a juicy headline.”

Tyler stared at Maggie and cracked
his knuckles. Joe looked out the window. “It’s raining,” he said.

“I have an umbrella.”

“If you’re sure about this, it
would help Tyler finish his stories and that would help me put the paper to bed
by deadline.”

Maggie smiled. “I’m a team player,
Joe, and it’s no big deal. I was going there anyway.”

Actually, she wasn’t. At least not
until she overheard Joe and Tyler’s conversation, which she interpreted as a
sign from the universe. She grabbed her UK umbrella and headed for the
courthouse. In addition to obtaining the indictments, she planned to swing by
the public records room and search for Mac Honaker’s father’s will.