2 Heroes & Hooligans in Goose Pimple Junction (46 page)

“From when to when?” Velveeta asked. “And can anybody else verify?”

“He came over about nine o’clock, I guess.”

“Why do I have the feeling you had something to do with the missing evidence bag?” Johnny stood in front of Teenie with his arms folded. “You had access to the key and a shift when nobody else was around.”

When she said nothing, Velveeta said, “Did you take the evidence, Teenie?”

Teenie began to cry softly, her head bowed. She nodded.

“Why, Teenie? Why would you impede an investigation by stealing key evidence? Why would you risk losing your job?” Johnny stretched both arms wide. “All for a man?”

She sniffed and ran her hand under her nose. “Somebody convinced me John Ed might’ve had something to do with it. I just panicked. She told me to take the evidence so they couldn’t prove it was him.”

“But if he was with you that night, as you just said, how could he have been the killer?”

“Well, he was a little late,” she said. “And wouldn’t say where he’d been.” She pulled a tissue from under her rolled-up sleeve and dabbed at her nose. “She sounded so sure, and everyone knows she sees everything that happens on Marigold Lane. I guess I wasn’t thinking too straight.”

Johnny’s face stayed neutral, but his eyes lit up.

“That’s certainly stating the obvious. But who? Who is this ‘she’ who told you John Ed might be the killer?” Velveeta asked.

Simultaneously, Johnny and Teenie said, “Estherlene Bumgarner.”

“She did it, Jack.” Johnny arrived at Jack’s house bright and early Friday morning, after having been up most of the night dealing with John Ed and Teenie.

Jack scrubbed his sleepy face with his hand and said, “Come on back. I’ll get us some coffee.”

While Jack made coffee, Johnny sat at the table. “I’m sure of it, Jack.”

“Why?” Jack asked. “What happened?”

“She told Teenie White that she was sure John Ed was the killer.”

“How can you be sure he wasn’t?”

“Because he was at the diner swiping stuff between seven thirty and eight, then he went home to stash his goods, and then he showed up at Teenie’s around nine.” He ran his hand over his face, his whiskers sounding like sandpaper. “Turns out Estherlene convinced Teenie that John Ed was guilty, and she believed it since he was late to her house and wouldn’t tell her where he’d been.”

“Why was John Ed not getting fed by Teenie? Why’d he have to steal it?”

“You ever had Teenie’s cooking? Her cooking’s so bad you couldn’t poke a fork through the gravy.”

“That bad?”

“Yep. So Estherlene got her to take the evidence. Teenie said she never opened the bag, and she turned it over this morning. Velveeta and I went over it with a fine-toothed comb, and we found a few hairs we’re sending off to forensics now. Maybe we’ll get a match, maybe we won’t, but I want to move on this. I don’t want to wait. Once she hears we’ve talked to John Ed and Teenie, she could get nervous.”

“You could get a search warrant. Have a look around.” Jack got mugs from the cabinet and joined Johnny at the table.

“I tried,” Johnny said miserably. “Judge Shelby said we didn’t have enough to warrant one. No pun intended.”

“So why are you here? Why aren’t you getting the police force involved? Surely y’all can think of something.”

He leaned in across the table, so Jack could hear when he whispered, “I’m thinking of breaking in. I can’t involve the force in an illegal activity.”

“What for? If you find anything, it won’t be admissible. You could jeopardize the whole case.”

Johnny nodded miserably. “But at least I’ll know. It’s killing me to think Martha Maye and Butterbean might be living next door to a cold-blooded killer.”

They were silent for a minute, the only sound that of the coffee maker. Finally, Jack spoke.

“If a regular citizen were to search her house and found something suspicious, you would at least know you’re on the right track.”

“Of course I’d have to arrest said person for breaking and entering.” Johnny raised an eyebrow at his friend. Laughing, and making fun of T. Harry, he added, “I suppose I could give you
immunization
.”

But Jack wasn’t laughing. “If you’re sure about this, I’ll do it,” Jack offered. “I’ll go in.”

Every tub has to sit on its own bottom.

~Southern Proverb

“E
stherlene goes grocery shopping every Saturday morning,” Martha Maye had said. “It’s senior citizens’ day at Piggly Wiggly.”

So armed with that information, Johnny and Jack had been in Martha Maye’s house for an hour Saturday morning, drinking coffee and waiting for Estherlene to leave for her weekly shopping excursion. Martha Maye didn’t know what was going on, and the suspense was killing her.

When the two men were practically floating from all the coffee, Estherlene finally left her house. The men waited for five minutes until Velveeta called to tell them Estherlene had arrived and was inside the store. Then Jack scurried next door, and Johnny paced in front of the window, where he could see out onto the street.

“Johnny, would you sit down? You’re making me a nervous wreck,” Martha Maye said.

“You’re sure Hector isn’t home?” Johnny asked for the third time, stopping to peer out the window.

“That’s what Estherlene told me over the phone. I called over there the other day to see if he wanted some of my leftover corn sticks. He likes to break them up into a glass of milk. Makes me sick to my stomach, but I didn’t have any—”

“So a fishing trip?” Johnny prodded.

“Oh. Yes. She said he’d gone on a fishing trip with some buddies. She hinted they were having some marital discord right before he left, and she didn’t sound like she planned on seeing him anytime soon. Why don’t you sit down for a bit?”

“I don’t want to take my eyes off the street. I can’t take the chance of Jack being discovered in that house.”

“You’ve had quite a week. Are you getting enough rest?”

He turned from the window to look at her. “I got caught up on sleep last night. I’m healthy as a hog.”

“Did you have breakfast? I can fix you something.”

“Martha Maye, I’m fine, I promise. Tell me about your week. I haven’t seen you much with all that’s been going on.”

“I know. It seems like the town is overrun with hooligans. I still can’t believe T. Harry was the one leaving me all those disgraceful presents. And Mr. Price was stealing the town blind. Gosh, you just never do know about folks, do you?”

“Mama said there’d be days like this,” Johnny said wryly.

“You know what my mama says?” Martha Maye didn’t wait for a reply. “She says turnip tops don’t tell you the size of the turnips.”

“Your mama’s a wise woman.”

“So you had to fire Teenie?”

“‘Fraid so. I decided not to press charges, though. I think her real crime was stupidity, and you can’t jail someone for that.” He chuckled. “If you could, our prisons would be overflowing. It’s time she retired anyway.”

“What about John Ed?”

Johnny let out a long breath. “I expect he’ll get some jail time. Maybe he’ll get out after a few months. I don’t know. What I do know is every tub has to sit on its own bottom.”

“Mama used to tell me that, too. She’d say it when I wanted to blame someone else for my problems.”

“Your mama’s a remarkable wo—”

Johnny stopped talking when his cell phone rang. “Hold up, it’s Jack.” He swiped his finger across the phone’s screen and said, “Jack?”

As he listened, his eyes widened and his mouth formed an
O
. “Good golly, Miss Molly.” His hand flew to the top of his head as Jack continued to talk a blue streak. Martha Maye could hear the voice on the other end but couldn’t hear exactly Jack was saying. Johnny appeared to be frozen in place, then bolted for the door.

“What is it?” Martha Maye ran after him.

As Johnny punched some numbers into his phone, he said, “I gotta get over there. You stay here. I’ll explain soon’s I can.” He flew out of the house, holding his phone to his ear.

Martha Maye stood at the front door after Johnny left, wondering what she should do. Then she heard approaching sirens.

“Good heavenly days,” she said, staring at the flashing lights coming up the street.

Velveeta sat with her children in the window of the McDonald’s across the street from the Piggly Wiggly. She wasn’t on duty but had volunteered to stake out the grocery store and let Johnny know the moment Estherlene arrived and the moment she left.

She’d been watching the grocery store more than her children, and Cinnamon’s whine brought her attention back to the table.

“Mama, he stole my French fry,” she wailed.

“Roscoe, give your sister a fry back.”

“You want this one?” he asked his sister, opening his mouth wide to show her the mostly chewed-up fry.

“Ew! No!” Cinnamon cried. “Mama!”

“Roscoe, I done told you to stop. Keep it up, and you’re gonna get a switching.”

Roscoe rolled his eyes and then stuck his tongue out at his sister.

“Son, you roll those eyes at me one more time, and I’ll roll that head of yours.”

Roscoe sulked, and the three ate in silence for a few moments, while Velveeta continued to watch the door of the Piggly Wiggly. She could see Estherlene’s big Buick LeSabre parked near the front of the lot. She looked at her watch and thought it should be about time for Estherlene to be finished with her shopping.

Suddenly, she heard a splash and felt cold wetness seep across her leg. Gasping as she jumped up, she watched orange Hi-C spill across the table, dripping onto the floor.

“Roscoe!”

“I didn’t do it, Mama, I didn’t,” Roscoe cried.

“Oh yes he did,” Cinnamon said. “He was stealing another French fry, and he knocked it over. It serves him right.”

“Uh-uh, she stole one of mine, and she knocked it over.”

“Lands sakes, y’all are both one fry short of a Happy Meal. Literally and figuratively,” Velveeta added under her breath. To the children, she said, “It don’t matter who knocked the drink over. We gotta get it cleaned up.” She stalked off to gather more napkins.

She was in the midst of cleaning up the spilled mess when an employee came over with a mop and bucket. “I’ll get it for you, ma’am.”