Murder at Catfish Corner: A Maggie Morgan Mystery (10 page)

BOOK: Murder at Catfish Corner: A Maggie Morgan Mystery
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Chapter Seventeen

Officer Tackett
ushered Maggie and Luke into the Jasper Police Department.

“Give me a sec
and I’ll pull up the video,” he said as he logged onto a laptop.

Luke leaned
against a wall and said, “I have to say, I’m impressed with how quickly you
moved on this case. How did you obtain the ATM video so fast?”

“You can thank
Seth, I mean Detective Heyward, for that.” Officer Tackett looked at Maggie.
“You two must be good friends. Did you go to school together?”

Maggie noticed
Luke crossing his arms. “Something like that,” she said to the officer.

“Well, here you
go,” the young patrolman said. “We tried to get the license plate number off
the car, but we couldn’t because of the angle of the camera. Watch it and let
me know if you recognize this person.”

Maggie peered at
the screen, which showed a car stopping in front of the parking lot. A baseball
bat-wielding figure bounced out of the car, smashed Maggie’s window, and tossed
a piece of paper inside before dashing back to the parked car.

Luke moved from
the wall to Maggie’s side. “Do you know who that is?”

“It could be
anybody,” she answered.

“So, it’s a no-go,”
the officer asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

Later that day,
after Maggie had returned home, visited with her parents, and taken Barnaby for
a walk, she made a phone call.

“Hello, it’s
Maggie Morgan. If you don’t want me to press charges against you for
vandalizing my car, you’ll meet me tomorrow at five o’clock in the
Jasper
Sentinel
parking lot. I think you know where that is.”

Chapter Eighteen

The suffocating
heat slapped Maggie in the face when she walked out of the air-conditioned
Sentinel
office and into the summer day. Although she knew to expect the drastic change
in temperature, it always took her by surprise and made her wonder if people
had grown too accustomed to climate control. Maybe we’d all be better off if we
followed Boone Osborne’s example and eschewed air conditioning, she thought to
herself as she walked toward Brandi Baker, who sat on the hood of a car with
her feet dangling off its side.

Brandi hopped off
the car when she saw Maggie, rushed across the parking lot, and yelled in her
face, “I don’t appreciate being threatened.”

Except for scuffles
with her younger brother, Maggie had never been involved in anything approaching
a physical altercation. She wasn’t sure she could say the same for Brandi Baker,
but Maggie was determined to not show the fear that crept up her stomach and
into her chest. “I don’t appreciate people threatening me, either, or breaking
my car window,” she said in a loud but measured tone.

“Who said that
was me?”

“I do. Even if I
hadn’t recognized you, Brandi, I saw a little kid in the front seat. Who takes
their daughter along when they break a car window with a baseball bat?”

Brandi clenched
her fists and stepped closer to Maggie. “Don’t you dare bring Paradice into
this.”

“You brought her
into this, Brandi. Now, are you going to calm down and talk to me, or am I
going to swing by the police station and swear out a warrant for your arrest?
Imagine what people will say about you and Paradice when they show that video
on the news.”

Brandi backed
away and stood staring at Maggie for a few moments before stomping across the
parking lot and flopping onto a curb. Maggie followed her and asked, “Did you
kill Hazel Baker?”

Brandi, who had
been inspecting her hot pink flip flops, jerked her head upward. “No. Why would
you say something crazy like that?”

“Because you
threatened me. Or are you denying that you smashed my window and left a note in
my car?”

“No, I did that.
But not because I killed Hazel. Cause I didn’t kill her. I just wanted you to
leave Earnest alone.”

“Earnest? Why
would you think I’m bothering him?”

“I found a
receipt from that diner you two had lunch at.”

“The Dinner
Bucket?”

“I think that’s
what it’s called. I’ve never eaten there. It don’t look like my kind of place,
but Earnest talks about it all the time. He’s always talking about how ‘they’
would eat there when ‘they’ came to town. He never says who ‘they’ are, but I
know he’s talking about him and Hazel. When I found that receipt, I saw red. I
didn’t realize it was on a work day, so I bought his lie about going there with
his brother. But I got to thinking about it and I looked at the calendar. He
don’t work in Jasper and he’s too cheap to drive thirty miles out of his way just
to eat soup beans, I don’t care how good they are. I kept at him until he told
me the truth. That’s what I was warning you about. I guess you didn’t get the
message.”

“No, I didn’t.” Maggie
wiped beads of sweat off her forehead. “How can I be so sure you’re telling the
truth? How do I know you didn’t kill Hazel?”

“Because I
didn’t have no reason to kill her. She and that sister of hers said nasty
things about me, but they ain’t really never done nothing real bad to me. At
least nothing that would make me kill them.”

“What about
Earnest’s pension?”

“What about it?”

“Isn’t that a
motive for murder? Don’t you want that money for yourself?”

“Well, yeah, I
want to get it eventually, if we stay married that long, but who said I wanted
Earnest to retire? I wouldn’t mind if he never quit working. If he does retire,
he’ll just lay around the house all day in his UK shorts watching
Andy
Griffith
and asking me to cook for him. If I had to put up with that all
the time, I’d kill him.”

Maggie studied
Brandi’s sun-damaged face and severe features and accepted her as the prime
suspect in the future murder of Earnest Baker. “If you feel this way about him,
why did you marry him?”

Brandi shrugged.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time. He seemed like a nice man and a good
provider. I never dreamed that Hazel was pulling in a lot more money than him. He
barely makes enough for us to get by on and he’s such a tightwad. And lazy. My mammaw
and pappaw raised me. My mammaw stayed home and kept the house and my pappaw
worked. I’m used to a man working, but Earnest won’t even cut the grass. I
ain’t cutting it, neither. I told him it wouldn’t look right for me to be out
there pushing a lawn mower with him laying on the couch, busting his gut over
something Barney said to Gomer. He started pouting and complaining about being
down in his back, so I hired a boy from up the street to cut the grass and weed
eat once a week. You’d have thought I went out and bought a Corvette. He
started whining about the money, so I fired that boy and let the grass grow.
That didn’t make him happy, neither, but he finally gave in and told me to get
that boy to come back. He only did that because he didn’t want the neighbors
talking about him for letting grass grow up to his knees.”

Maggie wanted to
keep the conversation focused on Hazel’s death, but Brandi didn’t give her a
chance to speak. Continuing her rant, she said, “I didn’t know he was that lazy
or such a big baby until after it was too late. Do you know what he tried to
get me to do when we first got married?” When Maggie shook her head, Brandi
said, “Iron his socks. I told him that I’m not ironing nothing. I don’t even
have an iron or an ironing board. But even if I did get the urge to iron, I
ain’t ironing something he puts his smelly feet in. And you know what he said
to me? ‘Hazel ironed them for me,’” Brandi mimicked Earnest in a voice that reminded
Maggie of Droopy, the cartoon dog. “I said, ‘I ain’t Hazel.’ All I hear about
is the great Hazel Baker. How she was the best cook in the world and the
hardest worker. He’s always comparing me to her. Suggesting I get a job to help
out. I do help out. I do the laundry and I make sure he’s got something to eat
when he gets home from work. He ain’t happy with that, neither. He said he
couldn’t survive on chicken nuggets and frozen pizzas, but he changed his tune
when I told him he could cook for his own self.”

Maggie fanned
herself with a notepad she kept in her purse. “It sounds like you and Earnest
have some issues to work out.”

“You ain’t
telling me nothing I don’t already know. I’ve wished a thousand times that I’d
been smarter, but Earnest had me fooled. If I had knowed who he really was, I’d
have let Hazel keep him.” Brandi stared into the distance. “Sometimes, I think
about throwing up my hands and leaving. But Paradice needs a daddy. That’s what
attracted me to Earnest. I thought he’d take care of her and be a good father
figure. I guess he is better than nothing.”

“What about your
ex-husband?”

“What ex-husband?”

“Paradice’s
dad?”

“Him? I might
have been dumb enough to marry Earnest, but I wasn’t dumb enough to marry Paradice’s
no-count daddy. He’s even lazier than Earnest, if you can believe that.”
Brandi’s face turned hard. “Is that what Earnest told you? That I had an
ex-husband? You can’t believe a word that comes out of his lying mouth. He’s
ashamed of me. He never takes me around his family or asks me to go to church. Well,
I take that back. I did go with him once, but he didn’t approve of the way I
dressed. I was raised in the Old Regular Baptist Church –”

Maggie considered
Brandi’s tight, low-cut white tank top and skimpy shorts and asked, “You were?”

“Yeah, my mammaw
took me to church every week. And I know how to act. I know that it ain’t
proper for a woman to go inside a church house in pants, so I wore a dress. And
Earnest told me it was too short.” Brandi pulled a weed out of a crack in the
parking lot. “You know, all those insults can hurt your feelings after a while.”

“I guess so.”
Having never been married, Maggie didn’t feel qualified to offer more than a
generic comment. “Brandi, I still don’t understand why you warned me.” Maggie
came to a disturbing conclusion. “Wait a minute. You don’t think I have designs
on Earnest, do you?”

“Designs? What
the heck does that mean?”

“You know, that
I’m interested in him.”

“You interested in
Earnest? Why would I think something crazy like that? He might be after you,
though. After he finally told me the truth about having lunch with you, he kept
going on about how smart and pretty and nice you are. I said to him, ‘I notice
she ain’t got no ring on her finger. If she’s so great, why ain’t she married?’”

“That’s one way
of looking at it,” Maggie said. “So, why did you want me to stay away from
him?”

Brandi turned
her head toward the sun. “I know it don’t make sense. He’s afraid of his own
shadow, but I think he killed Hazel. I’ve thought that from the day we found
out she was dead.”

Maggie couldn’t
believe what she was hearing. If Stella had been present, she felt sure she would
have jumped for joy and hugged Brandi. “Why do you think your husband killed
his ex-wife?”

“Well, he acted
all shocked when we first heard about it. I really thought it bothered him and
that made me mad. But he had been with her for a long time, and I started
feeling sorry for him. I have a big heart, you know. I don’t like to see nobody
hurting. That’s probably my biggest flaw.”

Maggie looked
down and chewed on her lip to keep from laughing. “Don’t let it bother you too
much, Brandi. No one is perfect.”

“Well, later
that day, I heard him whistling and he was practically skipping through the
house with a big smile plastered on his face. I couldn’t help but feel it had
something to do with her dying. He’s always going on about how she stole those
houses and half of his pension from him and how he’ll never get to retire.” Brandi’s
eyes settled on Maggie. “That’s why I was so mad when you and that sister of
Hazel’s showed up at the house. I can’t make the payments on the house and car.
If he goes to jail, me and Paradice lose everything.”

“But why would
he kill her? You just said he speaks favorably of Hazel.”

“So? I also said
you can’t believe a word that comes out of his lying mouth. Earnest only cares
about Earnest.”

“Did you notice
if he left the house that night?”

Brandi shrugged.
“He could have sneaked out of his room and then out of the house and I would
have never known it.”

“You mean you
two don’t share a room?”

“No, I ain’t
about to listen to that snoring. I call him a lumberjack cause it sounds like
he’s sawing logs. That’s the only way he’d do that much work, in his sleep.”

“That’s the
thing, Brandi. Do you really think this man, who won’t even mow his lawn, is
capable of murder?” Maggie asked.

“What does
cutting grass have to do with killing somebody? And, yeah, I do think he could
have done it. I think he was just pretending to be shocked when we heard about
her dying. Just like he was pretending to be somebody else when we first met.
He sure had me fooled then, but now I know not to trust him.”

Sweat poured
down Maggie’s face. “I can’t stand one more minute of this heat, Brandi. If you
think of anything else, you give me a call.” Maggie stood and walked away from
the curb before adding, “Do you want me to send you the bill for my car or do
you want to settle up with me and keep the garage out of it?”

Brandi rolled
her eyes. “I was hoping you’d let that slide now that you and me are on
speaking terms.”

“That’s not
going to happen.”

“Well, ain’t
that the story of my life. Nothing ever works out for me. I keep some money
hidden from Earnest. You can send the bill to me and I’ll pay the garage in
cash.” She sighed, “And I was going to use that money to buy Paradice a new
iPad. She lost her old one.”

Chapter Nineteen

Maggie wasn’t
sure how a newsroom discussion about an early-morning robbery of cases of
chicken tenders from a restaurant’s freezer had morphed into Joe proclaiming
his disgust for chicken and dumplings, but she felt the need to quiz him on a position
she considered irrational.

“What do you
have against chicken and dumplings?” she asked.

“Nothing
personally. I’m just not a fan of dough. Even if it is saturated with chicken
fat, chicken and dumplings is still dough.”

“Maybe you’ve
never had good chicken and dumplings,” Maggie said. “The next time Mom makes
them, I’ll set some aside for you.”

The sports
editor piped in, “If you bring a plate for Joe, you’d better not forget the
rest of us.”

“I don’t know if
I can get her to make enough for everyone.” Maggie chewed on her lip. “What am
I saying? I can make dumplings. I don’t have to wait on her. I can get a
chicken off Kevin and ask Daddy to –”

“Wait,” Joe held
up his hands. “Is this Kevin Mullins, the former murder suspect and lifelong
chicken farmer?”

“Yeah.”

“Count me out,”
Joe said.

“Why? Kevin was
cleared of that murder and he raises good chickens. He used to raise them with
my brother. Have I ever told you about that?”

“Yes, I remember
hearing something about Kevin, your brother, and your dad building a chicken
coop. And I’m sure Kevin raises the best chickens on Sugar Creek, but I’ll have
no part in the murder of an innocent chicken,” Joe said as he walked to his
office.

“Maggie, you
mean you’d actually kill a chicken?” Tyler asked.

“Not by myself.
Daddy will do the dirty work, but I’ll be there in case he needs help.”

“Needs help with
what?” the sports editor asked.

“I don’t want to
know.” Tyler turned in his chair, inserted his ear buds, and said, “Maggie, I can’t
believe this. You disappoint me. You have a dog.”

“I’m not
planning on eating dog and dumplings. I don’t understand,” Maggie protested.
“Everybody eats chicken. Where do you think it comes from?”

“I don’t like to
think about where my food comes from,” the summer intern said as she headed out
the newsroom in search of a feature photo.

“I bet you
people wouldn’t eat fresh bacon, either.”

“It depends,” a
voice behind Maggie said, “what do you mean by fresh?”

Maggie turned to
find Stella standing at her desk and holding a bouquet of flowers.

“I picked
hibiscus out of my garden. I hope you will accept them as a token of my appreciation
as well as an apology.”

Stella handed
the vase of yellow, purple, and pink flowers to Maggie, who sat them on her
Associated
Press Stylebook
. “Thank you,” Maggie said.

“I was hoping we
could discuss a few things.”

“I only have a
few minutes to talk. I need to finish a story and proof two others.” Maggie
glanced into the break room and saw three pressmen huddled around a table and
watched as the sports editor and sports reporter moseyed out of the building
for their afternoon coffee break. She cleared newspapers off the chair beside
her desk and said, “I guess we can talk here.”

Stella sat in
the chair and said, “I’m sorry for my rudeness. As you’ve noticed, I’m very
protective of Brother. I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable talking to you
without me there to support him.”

“He didn’t seem
uncomfortable. He told me I reminded him of your daughter.”

Stella smiled
and touched Maggie’s arm. “Good. That means he likes you. But I still don’t
understand why you spoke to him.”

“Stella, you
asked me to look into Hazel’s death and that’s what I’m trying to do.”

“Brother had
nothing to do with that. He’s incapable of hurting anyone.”

“How can we be
so sure of that? He is getting the house.”

“He doesn’t know
that yet.” She inhaled audibly. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”

“Of course, not.
But he’s benefiting from Hazel’s death. He must be considered a suspect.”

“I don’t like
where this is going. If that’s what you have in mind, blaming Brother,” Stella
flipped her hands toward Maggie, “you can quit.”

“It’s too late
for me to quit, Stella, and I’m not accusing him. I do consider him a suspect,
but, don’t worry, he’s not the only one.”

Stella ran her
fingers over a flower. “Is Earnest on this list of suspects?”

“Yes, he is.”

She smiled. “Good.
I know in my heart that he killed Hazel.”

“Stella, depending
on the day of the week, I’m not sure I believe anybody killed Hazel. But if she
was murdered, you have to consider the possibility that you might not like
where this leads.”

“It will lead to
Earnest and that doesn’t worry me at all.” Stella straightened the office
supplies on Maggie’s desk. “Brother told me you spoke to Fallon the day you
talked to him. I guess she told you about the eviction notice.”

“She did. She
was crying.”

“I feel bad for
her, I do. But Hazel should have never rented the house to her or to anyone for
that matter. And Fallon will find somewhere else to live.”

Maggie scratched
her head. “I really need to get back to work.”

Stella made a
motion to stand, but stopped and said. “While I’m thinking about it, I wanted
to ask if you’d be interested in looking through a couple boxes I found in Hazel’s
closet. I opened one file that contained some insurance claims. It’s probably
nothing, but you never know.”

“I’ll take a
look at them.”

“I’ll bring them
by here tomorrow. It was good to see you. Good luck with your story and don’t
forget to water your flowers.”

“Thanks. They’re
beautiful.” Stella was almost out of the newsroom when Maggie said, “Hey, could
you bring me her laptop, too?”

“You’ll have it
tomorrow.”

Maggie read the
last paragraph she had written before the newsroom had become consumed with the
subject of chicken. Before she could so much as craft another sentence, Joe
walked out of his office and leaned against the wall across from her desk.

“Nice flowers.
Who was that woman? She looks familiar.”

“Stella Martin.
She’s Hazel Baker’s sister.”

Joe tapped the
back of his head against the wall. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I caught parts
of your conversation.”

“If you can hear
my conversations in your office, does this mean you’ve heard me complain about
your overbearing management style?”

“Yes, I hear it
every day. Back to Ms. Martin, does this mean you’re snooping again?”

“If you want to
put it that way, then yes, I am.”

“Maggie –”

“It’s not
interfering with work. Yes, Stella did visit me here, but what’s the difference
between me talking to her for a few minutes and the sports guys visiting the
coffee shop on Main Street every afternoon?”

“There is no
difference, but you’re my friend and I worry.”

“I worry about you, too, Joe. There’s something wrong with somebody who
doesn’t like chicken and dumplings.”

Maggie related news
of Joe’s aversion to chicken and dumplings at dinner with Luke, Edie, and Ben,
but decided not to share her idea on how to obtain the chicken part of the
meal.

“There’s no
accounting for taste.” She rested her chin on Luke’s shoulder. “That would be
like somebody not liking Randy Travis.” Maggie’s phone rang, ruining her
blissful moment. She groaned and pulled her phone from her purse. It was the
same number Officer Tackett had called from, so she pressed accept and said,
“Hello.”

“Hey, Maggie,
how’s it going?”

Seth, she said
to herself. “I’m having dinner,” she said to him.

“Well, I won’t keep
you, but we need to talk.”

“About?”

“About the fact
that you lied to an officer of the law. I know you recognized Brandi Baker on
that video.”

BOOK: Murder at Catfish Corner: A Maggie Morgan Mystery
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