Murder at Catfish Corner: A Maggie Morgan Mystery (4 page)

Earl David nodded his agreement and Maggie and Stella headed next door to
talk to Boone.

When Maggie
introduced herself as Robert Morgan’s daughter, Boone’s eyes widened.

“Robert Morgan.
I reckon I ain’t seen him in fifteen year.”

“Well, I know
it’s been about twenty-five years since we came here to buy a sow from you.”

“I remember, I
remember,” Boone said as he lowered himself onto his front porch swing. “You
was just a little brown-haired girl then.” The old man grinned. “Why, it don’t
look like much has changed. You’re still a little brown-haired girl, but taller
now. Back then, for every step Robert walked, you had to take three to keep up
with him.”

Maggie smiled at
the recollection and took a seat in a rocking chair. “That sounds like me, and
I’m still taking three steps for every one that he takes. He’s not slowed down
one bit.”

“Let’s see, about
ten years or so after he bought that sow, I went over to Sugar Creek to buy a
couple goats off a feller and then I drove up Caldonia Road and bought some
eggs off of Robert. Well, actually it was off his son, I guess that would be
your brother, and that boy they tried to pen that murder on last year.”

“Your memory
amazes me, Mr. Osborne. I could never remember all that.”

“No,” Stella,
who had joined Boone in the swing, said. “She couldn’t even remember where you
lived. You’d think a writer would be more cognizant of her surroundings.”

Although Maggie
wanted to correct Stella and remind her she never said she couldn’t remember
where Boone lived, she didn’t want to seem petty in front of Boone, so she let
Stella’s insult pass. “Mr. Osborne –”

“If you don’t
want me to call your daddy, you’d better call me by my name.”

“In that case, Boone,
what can you tell me about the morning you found Hazel’s body?”

“Well, there
ain’t much to tell. I was fixing to go to my garden and I saw something over
there in Earl David’s lake.” Boone pointed in the direction of Catfish Corner.
“I walked over there and when I got closer, I saw somebody floating in it. I
come back here to the house and called 9-1-1.”

“Did you hear any
strange noises the night before or in the early morning of the day you found
her?”

“No, but I run a
fan at night. I never took a liking to an air conditioner, but it gets stuffy
at night so I run the fan. It keeps me cool but I guess you could say it blocks
out the noise. That’s good if you’re talking about dogs howling or motors
revving on those derned ole four-wheelers and motorcycles, but it ain’t so good
when something like this happens. I keep thinking that if it hadn’t been for
that fan, I might have heard her calling for help and been able to get to her
before she passed.”

Stella touched
Boone’s elbow. “You are such a dear man, but don’t you spend one more second
blaming yourself.”

“I know that
what’s meant to be will be, but the good Lord gave me a mind and a man can
still wonder,” Boone said.

“That’s
understandable, but you let me do the wondering. You talking to Maggie will be
a tremendous help.”

Boone nodded and
Maggie asked, “What about the evening before? According to the police, you were
on your porch.”

“I was, I was,
and it was just another evening. I come out here after supper and strung beans
until dark. How’s Robert’s beans?”

“They’re doing
really good.”

“How are his
tomatoes? Mine have took the blight.”

“They’re growing
so fast that he has to stake them every few days. If I had known I’d be seeing
you today, I would have brought you some of them.”

“Maybe next
time.”

Maggie looked in
the direction of Hazel’s property. “Did you see much of Hazel?”

“I did not. But
I knew she liked beans, so I gave her a mess that day.”

Stella patted
Boone’s elbow again. “I found those beans in her refrigerator. I strung them a
couple days after her funeral. You can’t buy better beans. I ought to have known
they came from your garden. And, if I had known, I would have thanked you
before now.”

“That’s all right.
I reckon you had more important things on your mind than thanking me. She
offered to pay me, but I don’t think it’s right to make money off your
neighbors and family. Unless you need it, of course. But I’m making it all
right, I guess, and as long as I’m blessed with a good garden, I’ll share.”

Maggie asked him
a few more questions and told him to call if he thought of anything else.

“I will, I will,” Boone said. “Now, you tell that Daddy of yours I was
asking about him. Why, I might take a notion one of these days to go see him.”

Maggie and
Stella stopped at the local dairy bar for lunch. In spite of Maggie’s protestations,
Stella insisted on paying. “You’ve come all the way here to Sassafras and given
up your Saturday. It’s the least I can do.”

After receiving
her order – a plain grilled chicken sandwich, small fries, and a cup of water –
Maggie chose a table and waited on Stella, who stopped to chat with everyone in
the restaurant. When Stella finally joined her, Maggie said, “It’s a shame
Sassafras isn’t incorporated as a town.”

“Why’s that?”
Stella asked.

“Because you
could run for mayor and win in a landslide. You know everyone.”

Stella laughed.
“I taught at Sassafras High School for more years than I care to admit. If you
weren’t my student, then you were my student’s parents, grandparents, or
children.”

When Stella bit
into a footlong hot dog with chili, mustard, and slaw, Maggie couldn’t help but
feel envious.

“Mmm,” Stella rolled
her eyes as she chewed the hot dog. “You should have tried one of these. I know
hot dogs are bad for you and I don’t even want to guess what kind of
ingredients are in a hot dog wiener, but this is my weakness. About once a
month, I indulge.” Stella took another bite and groaned.

“I’m trying to
behave,” Maggie said.

Stella wiped her
mouth and said, “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Earl David, but Hazel
called the pay lake an eyesore and Earl David’s customers riff-raff. I told her
that I might come up here one day and spend a peaceful day fishing beside that
beautiful lake. She didn’t complain much after that.”

“How long has
the lake been there?”

“Five years or
so. He opened it around the time Hazel’s husband left her. That was not a good
time for my sister. How do you think it’s going so far?”

“It’s hard to
say. We’ll know more after we talk to everyone else.”

“Let me ask you
something. Why did you ask Earl David about the height of the fence?”

“Partly, because
I was curious. Maybe I watch too much Investigation Discovery, but I would
expect people to do what I suggested to Earl David – hop over that fence and
cast a line. More important, I wanted to learn if that was a problem. If people
were hanging out at night, then maybe Hazel saw or heard something.” Maggie
chomped on a fry. “But that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

“Of course not,
because Earnest killed her.”

“We need to keep
an open mind.”

“That’s your job
and you’re doing really well. Why, it wouldn’t have occurred to me to ask about
the fence or whether it was locked and I didn’t think anything about her
pajamas being out of place and the unmade bed didn’t sound an alarm, either.”

“You would have
eventually put everything together,” Maggie said. “Besides, you are grieving.
You can’t be expected to notice everything.”

“We’ll head over
to our old homeplace next and talk to Hazel’s renter,” Stella wrinkled her nose
as if she had just caught a whiff of tainted meat, “Fallon.”

“Oh, what was
she renting?”

“Our mother’s
house. Hazel inherited it. At first, she rented it to a friend of the family
and, after that, to our cousin’s son, but for the past couple years, Fallon has
been living there. I’m sure she’s a nice girl and at least she works and tries
to provide for her little boy. It’s not her fault the little boy’s daddy can’t
stay employed long enough to pay child support for more than a month or two at
a time. But, my goodness, the thought of that girl sitting at my mother’s table
and sleeping in my mother’s bed was hard to take. It wasn’t as bad when a
friend or someone in the family lived there. Of course, I know Fallon’s family,
so perhaps that’s colored my opinion of her. I taught most of the family in
school. Her mother named her after a character from that show,
Dynasty
,
if that tells you anything. Then Fallon turned around and named her little boy
after one of those vampires in those silly little books.” Stella wiped her
mouth with a napkin. “But what can you do?”

Maggie, who had
named her dog after a character in her favorite British mystery series, did not
intend to debate the merits of selecting popular culture names for offspring or
pets. Instead, she asked, “You said something about talking to your brother?”

“Yes, Brother.
That’s Dennis. He lives in a mobile home a mile or so down the road from the
house. Since he lives closer to the house than Hazel did, he took care of the
maintenance and upkeep for her. After we talk to him, I thought we could head
over to Vanessa Griffith’s clinic.”

“Is that the
doctor Hazel worked for?”

“Yes. Well, she
worked for her for the past three years. Hazel spent the majority of her career
working for Vanessa’s dad, whom everyone called Doc. He could have opened a
practice in Jasper or anywhere else for that matter, but he came home to
Sassafras. You know we’re a little isolated from the rest of the county here in
Sassafras.”

“But it’s hardly
the only eastern Kentucky community that I’d classify as isolated. Heck, it’s
not the only community in Geneva County I’d classify as isolated.”

“That may be
true, but I’m looking at it from a pair of old Sassafras eyes. When we need to
see the doctor, it’s not simply a matter of a five-minute drive downtown or
over the hill. At least it wasn’t until Doc Griffith opened the clinic. I was a
little girl then, but I’ve heard people talk about the difference that clinic
and Doc Griffith made for the community. He cared for his family, friends, and
neighbors here in Sassafras for nearly fifty years. For thirty-seven years,
Hazel worked alongside him. Hazel earned a good salary, but she could have made
even more money elsewhere, but just like Doc Griffith, she wanted to help her
people.”

“What about his
daughter?”

“Vanessa
practiced medicine in Cincinnati for a little while, but she eventually joined
her dad at the clinic. Just like him and Hazel, she wanted to help the
forgotten people of Sassafras. She learned the ropes from Doc Griffith and took
over the clinic after he died.” Stella downed the last of her diet soda. “When
we’re finished with Vanessa, we’ll pay a little visit to Earnest.”

“Earnest, the
ex?”

“Yes.”

“Is he expecting
us?”

“No.” Stella’s
eyes twinkled. “But you let me handle that.”

Chapter Six

Maggie tried to
refrain from judging anyone’s appearance. From her perspective, people didn’t
have much say in the way they looked. Sure, they could make cosmetic changes,
but some people couldn’t even do that. Maybe they didn’t have the money to fix
crooked teeth or dye their hair. Perhaps an undiagnosed thyroid condition
prevented them from losing weight or a recent illness had caused a rapid weight
loss that resulted in ill-fitting clothes. She tried to keep those factors in
mind and generally suppressed superficial feelings. But when Fallon opened the
door, Maggie couldn’t keep a judgmental thought from crowding her mind – she
thought Fallon looked like a raccoon. Maggie reckoned Fallon had taken the
smoky-eye technique to extreme and felt an immediate sense of sympathy for the attractive
young woman. She wondered if anyone had ever suggested Fallon cut back on the
dark eye shadow and eyeliner that circled her dark eyes. Yet, despite Fallon’s poor
taste in makeup, Maggie didn’t understand why Stella disliked her. She welcomed
them into the house, offered them something to drink, and cooperated with
Stella’s request to allow Maggie to ask questions. She also stopped her little
boy from climbing up Maggie’s legs. In Maggie’s mind, that stood for something.

“You know better
than that, Cullen.” Fallon wrenched the toddler from Maggie and sat him on her
lap. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s no problem,”
Maggie assured her. “Stella tells me you saw Hazel the day before her body was
found?”

“Yeah,” Fallon
answered as Cullen squirmed on her lap. “She came over to check on things.”

When Cullen
started banging an empty ashtray against the kitchen table, Stella held out her
arms and asked, “May I take him?”

Before Fallon
could answer, Stella scooped up the toddler and took him to the living room.
Every so often, Cullen’s laughter and the sounds of plastic toys rolling across
the linoleum floated into the kitchen.

“Just so you
know, I smoke, but only outside. Cullen don’t need that secondhand smoke around
him and Miss Baker didn’t want me smoking in here anyways. She didn’t want me
flicking butts onto the ground, neither.” Fallon nodded her head toward the
ashtray. “That’s why I have that, but I only use it outside. It’s only in the
house cause I washed it today.”

“Your smoking
habits are none of my business,” Maggie said. “Now, as for that day, was there
a specific reason Hazel stopped by?”

Fallon retrieved
a stray spaghetti strap that had fallen down her slender shoulder. “She just
did that from time to time.”

“I thought her
brother was in charge of taking care of the house?”

“He was. I guess
he still is. But Miss Baker, well, she was the type of person who had to check
things herself.”

“Did anything
odd happen during Hazel’s visit that day?”

The slumping
Fallon sat up straight and said, “What do you mean?”

“Did she say or
do anything unusual? Did she seem upset, worried, stressed?”

“Let me think.” Fallon
started peeling the paper off her Mountain Dew bottle. “No, I don’t think so.
She seemed the same. She wasn’t here long.”

“Can you think
of anything at all that stands out from her visit?”

Fallon finished
pulling the paper from the bottle and said, “No, nothing at all.”

Before they left
the house, Stella asked Fallon’s permission to take Maggie on a tour of her
childhood home.

“Look at how
small these rooms are,” Stella said. “You could pick up the kitchen, living
room, and bathroom and place them in Hazel’s kitchen. We did good for
ourselves. Of course, in my case, I married well, but I also worked hard to put
myself through school and then I worked hard teaching school. Both Hazel and I
are self-made women.” They advanced down a short hallway and into Fallon’s room.
Stella stopped so abruptly that Maggie had to balance herself on one foot to
keep from walking into her back. “She has a new bed.”

A queen-sized
cherry sleigh bed took up most of the small room. Maggie decided it was a good
thing the closet didn’t have doors or Fallon wouldn’t have been able to access
her clothes. As it was, she figured Fallon had to sit or stand on the bed to
reach inside the closet.

“I wanted to get
the whole set,” Fallon said from behind the two women, “but I only had room for
the bed and dresser. Maybe I can get the other pieces someday when I find a
bigger place.”

“It’s a wonder
Maggie and I can both fit in this room,” Stella said before whirling around to
face Fallon, who remained standing in the hallway. “Where is my mother’s bed? I
know it was nothing more than an old, small brass bed, but it’s the one she
shared with my father until his untimely death. My brother and sister and I
slept in that bed with Mother when we were sick. My mother died in that bed.”

Fallon’s head
recoiled. “You mean me and Cullen had been sleeping in a bed that somebody died
in? Miss Baker never told me that.”

“Where is the
bed, Fallon?”

“I don’t know.
When I told Miss Baker I was getting a new bed, she had the old one taken out.
She offered to let me keep using the sheets. You know, for Cullen’s bed.”
Fallon kissed Cullen’s cheek and said, “Mommy got you a big-boy bed that looks
like a race car, didn’t she?” Turning to Maggie and Stella, she added, “I went
ahead and got new sheets, too. I thought I might as well. A new bed needs new
sheets. And I’m glad I bought them. I don’t want me or Cullen to sleep on
sheets somebody died on.”

“You had been
using my mother’s sheets?”

“I guess so,”
Fallon said. “Miss Baker pulled them out of a box when I moved in and asked if
I wanted to use them. I didn’t ask where they come from and she didn’t tell me
nobody died on them, so I didn’t see nothing wrong with using them. I sure am
glad I washed them first. Me and Cullen could have caught some bad disease.”

“Where are the
sheets now, Fallon?”

“Miss Baker took
them.”

Stella stormed
out of the house without telling Fallon and Cullen goodbye and didn’t say one
word on the short drive to her brother’s. When she and Maggie arrived at his mobile
home, Stella bolted from her SUV and up the steps. When Maggie entered the
trailer, she heard Stella asking her brother, “When did this happen? When did
Hazel sell our mother’s bed and sheets?”

“I don’t know,”
he said.

“Give me your
best guess.”

“A few months
ago.”

“Why wasn’t I
told?”

“I don’t know. I
assumed Hazel told you.”

“You know what
happens when we assume, Dennis,” Stella yelled.

Dennis finally noticed
Maggie and said, “Hello. Would you like a seat?”

His quick
response startled Maggie, but she recovered and said, “Yes, thank you,” and
joined Stella, who had collapsed onto the sofa.

“I’m sorry for
my outburst,” Stella said. “It’s just that I didn’t know Hazel had gotten rid
of the bed. I know I’m being silly. It was Hazel’s to do with as she pleased,
but I would have liked to have known. The bed was so old and rusty and the
sheets so threadbare. She couldn’t have gotten enough money out of them to fill
up her car with gas. Of course, I also don’t understand the mindset of anyone
who would buy or use somebody else’s old sheets, but it’s not my place to
judge.” Stella’s eyes settled on Dennis. “Come over here, Brother, and talk to
my friend, Maggie.”

Dennis walked to
a desk chair, sat down, and crossed his arms over his chubby chest.

When neither
Stella nor Dennis said anything, Maggie said, “Dennis, I guess Stella told you
why we were stopping by.”

“Yes.” Dennis
swiveled in the chair as he spoke. “She said you wanted to talk to me about
Hazel. Are you a private investigator?”

“Heavens, no,”
Maggie answered. “I’m just, uh, I’m –”

“She’s helping
us find out who took Sister from us, Dennis.”

“The police –”

“Are wrong.”
Stella kept her eyes fixed on Dennis for several seconds before saying, “Maggie,
I think you should get started.”

Maggie scratched
her head and said, “Dennis, I understand you spoke to Hazel the evening before
her death.”

“Yes, I did.”

“What did you
talk about?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”
Maggie repeated. “You had a conversation about nothing?”

“I think what
Brother is trying to say is that they didn’t talk about anything in particular.
You know how it is with your brother, Maggie. You can probably talk to him for
an hour and not say anything.”

Dennis didn’t
elaborate on Stella’s speculation. He simply continued to move from
side-to-side in the chair, an activity that made Maggie dizzy.

“I understand
what you mean, but, surely, you talked about something,” Maggie said to Dennis.

“We talked about
the house.”

“That’s right,”
Stella said. “She had been to the house that day.”

Dennis nodded.
“Yes.”

“What about the
house? What, specifically, did you discuss about the house?” Maggie asked.

Dennis sucked in
his lower lip and said, “The usual.”

“And, what was
the usual?”

Dennis didn’t
get a chance to offer another short reply. Instead, Stella said to Dennis, “When
I talked to her, she said she had gone shopping in Jasper to pick up supplies. She
mentioned that she had bought cleaning solution for you to power wash the
house. Is that what you talked about? Cleaning the house?”

“Yes.”

For the life of
her, Maggie couldn’t understand why Stella had insisted she talk to Dennis. He
reminded her of the worst kind of interview subject – the functioning mute. Other
than funeral homes that didn’t email obits, nothing about her job irritated her
more than talking to a person who agreed to be interviewed yet could do little
more than string together “yes” and “no” answers. It made her wonder how such
people got through the day.

“What do you do,
Dennis?” Maggie asked.

“I beg your
pardon,” Stella answered.

“What’s your
job, Dennis?”

“I’m a file
clerk.”

“Now, Brother,
don’t sell yourself short,” Stella said. “He started out working as a file
clerk, but when everything switched to computers, he took IT courses, earned his
certification, and started working on their computer system. Didn’t you,
Brother?”

“I did.”

Ah, Maggie
thought to herself, that explains a lot. He doesn’t have much contact with
people.

“Well, Dennis,
is there anything else you can tell me about Hazel? Was anything bothering her
that evening?”

Dennis quit
turning in the chair.

“Brother? Was
something wrong with Sister that evening?” Stella sat forward.

“Yes, she was
upset.” Dennis nodded. “UK lost out on a top-rated prospect. She thought he
could have made a difference in the middle.”

Stella relaxed on the sofa, smiled, and said, “I told you. She loved
those Cats.”

Between Dennis’
non-answers, Stella speaking for her brother, and the constantly swiveling
chair, Maggie had developed a touch of a headache. On their way to Dr. Griffith’s,
she chased two Tylenols with water.

“Are you feeling
ill, Maggie?” Stella asked.

“Just a bit of a
headache, but I’ll be fine.”

“Listen, I know
how Brother comes across, but he’s shy. He was the only boy and the youngest
child and I’m afraid we might have doted on him a little too much. I’m afraid
we didn’t do him any favors. He’s so agreeable, though. He’s such a dear, sweet
man.”

“Does he have a
developmental disorder?” Maggie knew she was verging on rudeness, but she felt
the question needed to be asked.

“No, he’s just
Brother. In case you’re wondering, he has been tested. Hazel insisted on it
years ago.”

“Has he ever been
married?”

Stella took her
eyes off the road and smirked. “No, Brother would jump if a woman said ‘Boo’ to
him. I’m fairly certain he’s never had a girlfriend, either. That’s so sad
because Brother has so much to give, but he’s always been so lonely. Now,
without Hazel, he’s going to be even lonelier.”

“At least he
still has you.”

“And my
daughter,” Stella noted. “She lives in North Carolina, but she adores her Uncle
Den, as she calls him.”

Stella pulled into
the parking lot of a single-story building that Maggie would have mistaken for
a house if not for a sign on the window that read “Sassafras Clinic.” The clinic’s
interior, however, resembled other medical facilities Maggie had visited. Patients
waited in padded plastic chairs and a receptionist sat inside an enclosure equipped
with a window that allowed her to greet patients. As soon as Stella approached,
the receptionist said, “Go on in, Miss Stella. The doctor is expecting you.
She’s in her office.”

Dr. Griffith sat
at her desk, texting away on her phone. She didn’t look up until Stella said,
“You’ve got a crowded house out there, Vanessa.”

“I know,” the
doctor replied, “These Saturday clinics keep us busy, so I’m afraid I don’t
have much time to spare today.”

“This won’t take
long,” Stella said. “Vanessa, I want you to meet my friend, Maggie Morgan.”

“You write for
the
Jasper Sentinel
,” Dr. Griffith said. “I’ve seen your picture and
your name.”

Maggie didn’t know
how to respond to a statement of fact that sounded to her like an accusation.
Luckily, Stella responded for her.

“Yes, Maggie
works for the newspaper through the week, but today, she’s helping a friend.”

Dr. Griffith
didn’t take her eyes off Maggie as she asked Stella, “How so?”

“Like I told you
on the phone, I don’t believe the police’s version of what happened to Hazel.
I’m determined to get to the truth and Maggie here,” Stella touched Maggie’s arm,
“has offered her assistance.”