1 Murder on Sugar Creek (5 page)

“See, that’s what I don’t
understand. Bug said Mac used the cameras until they became too much of a
hassle.” When Dottie stared at her, Maggie added, “I know I said the interview
would focus on Mac and not on his murder, but it’s just that Bug said one thing
and –”

“I’m just telling you what Mac
always told me.”

Maggie smiled. “It’s not a big deal.”
She glanced at her notes. “Did you join Mac and Bug’s lottery escapades?”

 Dottie flinched. “What do you
mean?”

“Bug said he and Mac scratched off
lottery tickets every day.” Maggie shrugged. “I thought it might be one of
those employee bonding things. You know, some co-workers join a bowling league
together or start a softball team. I thought your thing might have been
scratch-offs.”

Dottie downed the last of her
coffee. “I don’t play the lottery. I don’t believe in gambling. I’m a
Christian.”

“Oh, I hope I haven’t offended
you.”

Dottie waved off Maggie’s concerns
just as the kitchen door of her doublewide mobile home opened.

“There he is,” Dottie beamed. “This
is my Corey.”

The young man, who Maggie
determined to be in his late teens or early twenties, nodded as he walked to
the refrigerator. As Maggie watched him pour a glass of milk and accept a slice
of the bread from his grandma, she struggled not to pass judgment on him for
wearing a Duke University ball cap.

“Well, I have a hungry boy on my
hands and I have to make something for him to eat.” Dottie rose from her chair.
“Don’t you forget to mention me to your mommy and daddy.”

“Oh, okay,” Maggie said. “Thanks
for your time.”

After Maggie
successfully backed out of Dottie’s driveway and across the narrow bridge that
connected her property to the road, she speculated, “He was washing down warm pumpkin
bread with milk, so why the rush to make him something else to eat? Hmm. Two
interviews, two abrupt endings. I wonder what will happen tomorrow when I talk
to Carla Honaker?”

Maggie scanned the display case in
Carla Honaker’s bakery. The apple walnut muffins looked good, but so did the red
velvet cupcakes topped with towers of cream cheese frosting.

“Can I get something for you?”
Carla asked as she emerged from the kitchen carrying a pan of chess bars.

“No, I’d better not,” Maggie answered.
“I think I’ve gained five pounds from breathing.”

“Everything’s fresh.”

“And I’m sure it’s all delicious,
too. I’ve eaten a few wedding cakes you’ve baked. Well, not the entire cakes.”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “I guess I should say I’ve eaten pieces of a few
wedding cakes you’ve baked.”

Carla arranged the chess bars on a
serving platter, closed the door to the display case, and wiped her hands. “What
do you want to know about Mac?”

 Maggie picked up her pen. “First
of all, thank you so much for agreeing to do this. During our initial
conversation, you expressed apprehension, but I’m glad you reconsidered. These
columns would be incomplete without your voice, the voice of his wife. And,
also, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Carla closed her eyes and nodded.
“Thank you.”

Maggie cleared her throat. “I guess
we should start at the beginning. How did you meet him?”

“Believe it or not, but it was at
the nursing home.” Carla rubbed lotion on her hands as she spoke. “You never
know how much your life can change in one instant. At that time, I ran the
business out of my home. I was making a princess birthday cake for a little
girl who loved purple. The only concern I had was whether I had achieved the
perfect shade of purple to satisfy a three-year-old and her mother. As I
applied the icing to the cake, the phone rang. It was the hospital. My dad had
collapsed in a parking lot and had been rushed to the hospital. He had had a
stroke. He pulled through, but it was obvious that he required a level of care
that I couldn’t provide. My mother had passed years earlier and I was an only
child, so it was just Dad and me. I had to put him in a nursing home. As you
might imagine, the decision left me feeling very guilty. It was hard enough to
see him in the hospital, but for some reason, the visits to the nursing home
affected me in a way I didn’t anticipate. I hated seeing him lying in that bed.
I visited every day, sometimes two or three times a day. And before I walked
into the facility, I would have to sit on a bench outside the doors and steel
my nerves.

“That’s how I met Mac. He noticed
me sitting there day after day and finally joined me on that bench. That’s how
it started.”

“When did this happen? When did you
meet Mac?”

“Fourteen years ago. We were
married two months after we met.”

“Wow. I guess when you know, you
know.”

“Yeah. We just clicked. I wasn’t
looking for love. In fact, I was convinced it would never happen. I remember
saying to myself, ‘You’re in your mid-thirties and it hasn’t happened, so it’s
probably not going to happen.’ Then, I met Mac.”

 “He was working at the nursing
home, you got married, and then he built his store. Right?”

“Yeah.” Carla winced. “That was a
surprise. One morning, he goes to work at the nursing home. That evening, he
comes home and tells me he’s building a store. But I could tell he was
passionate about the prospect of owning his own business and that’s something I
certainly understood. After the initial shock, I came to appreciate his drive
and ambition.”

“How closely involved were you with
the operation of the store?”

“Not at all.”

Maggie looked around the bakery.
“Did you ever think about combining your two pursuits?”

Carla laughed. “No. Oh, goodness,”
she rubbed her forehead, “how do I say this? Sugar Creek is a lovely community.
It’s where Mac and I made our home, but the catering business and this bakery appeal
to a different clientele.”

“How so?” Maggie knew better than
to allow her personal feelings to interfere with an interview, but she felt
sure Carla was insulting her family, friends, and neighbors on Sugar Creek.

“Just that people who live and work
in town have more disposable income than their county counterparts,” Carla
explained. “Regardless, could we keep this part of the discussion out of the
story?”

“Sure. I wasn’t even taking notes.”
Maggie held up her empty hands as evidence. “Have you thought about what you’re
going to do with the store?”

“Yes. It was Mac’s baby and I can
barely keep up with the demands of my business. I’m not complaining, but except
for a couple part-time workers, this is a one-woman show. Between the catering
jobs and the orders for cakes, this one woman stays busy. Of course, I’d rather
be busy than suffer through the alternative. My work has been a blessing and
given me a purpose, especially during these past few days, but I am unable to
run, in essence, three businesses. I’m afraid I’m going to have to put the
store on the market.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Yes, but I’m sure I can find a
buyer. In fact, I’ve already received a few inquiries from potential buyers,
all of whom would keep the store open. That’s important to me because Mac was
rooted to Sugar Creek and the store could remain as a reminder of him. Unless I
change my mind, I’m going to sell the house, too. Mac grew up on that property,
in the house next door to ours. It’s so hard to be there. That’s one of the
reasons I came back to work so soon. I needed to get out of that house and I
needed to stay busy and focus on something positive.” Carla motioned her head
to a photo on the wall that showed her wearing a tank top and shorts, holding a
medal, and beaming. “I finished my first marathon at age 40. I keep that
picture as a reminder of what you can accomplish with a little hard work and a
lot of determination. And I’m determined not to let my grief engulf me.”

“I admire your resolve.”

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you
for your time. I know this couldn’t have been easy.” Maggie closed her notebook
and bought three chess bars – one for herself and two for her parents – before
leaving.

Just as was the case with Carla,
Mac’s first wife also expressed misgivings about submitting to an interview and
initially refused Maggie’s request. Yet, just as Carla had done, she changed
her mind. Maggie considered asking her why, but decided to leave well enough
alone.

When Rhonda opened the door to her
apartment, Maggie was startled by her appearance. She had been expecting
someone resembling Carla, but quickly remembered that Carla was several years
younger than her late husband. So, she shouldn’t have been surprised by Rhonda’s
frizzy, graying black hair or her tired eyes. She thought Rhonda looked
familiar, but she couldn’t place her.

“Hello,” Maggie extended her hand.
“I’m Maggie Morgan. It’s nice to meet you.”

Rhonda shook Maggie’s hand. “I read
your stories in the paper. You’re so funny and talented.”

 “Thank you.”

“Come in and have a seat. Do you
want something to eat?”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t.”

“I’ve made a cheese and cracker
tray.”

The appetizer didn’t fall under
Maggie’s adversarial food group – sugars – so she saw no reason to resist the
temptation. “Well, maybe a little.”

Rhonda set the tray, small paper
plates, and a cup of water on the coffee table.

Maggie selected a wheat cracker and
a slice of pepper jack cheese. “Yummy, and it looks so professional.”

“I’ve had lots of experience. I
used to manage the Walmart deli.”

Maggie finished munching on a
cracker before speaking. “I remember you. You sliced turkey to my generic
specifications – not too thick, not too thin. Where do you work now?”

“I don’t. I’m disabled.” Rhonda
indicated her surroundings with her hands. “That’s how I ended up here. I had
to move out of the trailer I was renting.”

“This is nice.” Maggie nodded and looked
around at Rhonda’s sparse and cozy quarters. She wasn’t sure how she felt about
the concrete floors and walls, but Rhonda’s well-placed rugs and family photos
added a personal touch to what could have resembled a jail cell. Although she
had heard that tenants in public housing were subject to surprise inspections
by the landlord and that they had to pay extra on their rent to keep pets, she
didn’t understand Rhonda’s obvious embarrassment. “What led to your being
disabled?”

Rhonda pointed to her head.
“Migraines.”

“Oh, you poor thing. I’ve never had
one, but I hear they’re worse than death.”

“Sometimes when I’m having one, I
wish for death.” Rhonda put her hand to her head. “People say, ‘Just take an
aspirin.’ You might as well take a Flintstones vitamin as an aspirin or any of
those other over-the-counter pain relievers. I know people judge me for getting
my disability on headaches, but it got so bad that I couldn’t work. I went
through a stretch of three months where I only worked five days. Then, the
doctor pulled me off work. I applied for my disability and my case didn’t even
go to a judge. The Social Security board approved me. That was three years
ago.”

“How are your headaches now?”

“A little better, but I don’t have
as much stress.” Rhonda grimaced, “Actually, I have a headache today.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Maggie apologized.
“We don’t have to do this today.”

“No, it’s manageable and, if I’m
going to do this, I want to get it over with.”

Maggie swallowed one last bite of
cheese. “I’ll make this as fast and as painless as possible. You and Mac were
high school sweethearts?”

“Yes,” Rhonda smiled. “We started
dating sophomore year. There was no other boy for me after that.”

“What was it about him?”

“Oh, gosh. He was cute and nice and
just mischievous enough to be fun.” When Maggie gave her a quizzical look,
Rhonda explained, “What I meant is that when some boys acted up, they came
across as jerks. But Mac was just funny. He was always playing jokes on people
and making them laugh. Did you know that he was voted the class clown?”

“No.” For that anecdote alone,
Maggie deemed the interview a success. “You have good memories of that time?”

“The best. I wish high school had
gone on forever. But,” Rhonda sighed, “it didn’t.”

 “You were married right out of
high school?”

“Well, not really. It was almost a
year later.”

“Where did you live?”

“In a trailer on his parents’
property. It’s in the same place where his house sits now. That’s a really nice
house. I guess you’ve seen it, being from Sugar Creek.”

“It is an attractive little cottage
and it stands out among all the ranches,” Maggie agreed. “How long were you
married?”

“Not quite five years.”

“Do you mind telling me what
happened? Why did the marriage end?”

Rhonda frowned. “I don’t mind
telling you. Real life happened. It’s just like the words to that John Cougar
song.”

“Which one?”

“‘Jack and Diane.’ He says
something in the song about holding on to sixteen as long as you can. In our
minds, we were still those same kids who went to a ball game every Friday night
and hung out at the lake every summer. But, just like in the song, we had
become a woman and a man.” Rhonda brushed away a piece of lint from her jeans.
“Five years don’t seem like a long time, but I’m surprised it lasted that long.
The first couple years were good, but after that, the bloom wore off and we
fought about everything. I guess we stayed together as long as we did because
we were both taught that divorce was wrong. I left him a few times, but I
always went back. The last time I left was a Monday. By Thursday, I was ready
to go back, but his daddy came to my mommy and daddy’s, that’s where I had went,
and talked to me. He said Mac was ready to call it quits. McKinley, that was
his daddy, didn’t believe in divorce, but he told me he thought it would be
best if me and Mac separated. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and I tried
to call Mac, but he wouldn’t answer. I went back to the trailer one evening and
waited for him to come home. That was it.”