Murder at Moonshiner Days

by Michelle Goff

  Prologue

  Jennifer Wagner sat at her kitchen table, studying the Moonshiner Days vendor list and planning her meals for the next three days. She debated the merits of funnel cake, strawberry shortcake, and smothered waffles for breakfast; barbecued rib sandwiches, Polish sausages, and gyros for lunch; and sirloin tips, fried fish, and shrimp kebabs for dinner.

  She conceded the high caloric cost of devoting multiple days to Moonshiner Days food, but dismissed those nagging doubts. She endured daily five a.m. workouts not only to stay in shape but also so she could treat herself now and then. Besides, for the past two years, she hadn’t so much as strolled through the streets during Moonshiner Days. Unlike other residents of downtown Jasper, she didn’t dread the thousands of people who descended upon the town or the accompanying traffic jams and noise. No, her reason for avoiding the festival had been more personal.

  Jennifer had met Mel, her late husband, at Moonshiner Days. They had arrived at the chicken-on-a-stick booth at the same time and each had encouraged the other one to take the next position in line. A giggling Jennifer had finally stepped forward and placed her order. She had struck up a conversation with the chivalrous man while waiting for her chicken. They had continued chatting after receiving their food and had wandered over to the park where they sat eating and getting to know each other while a bluegrass band and cloggers entertained the crowd. There wasn’t a day that Jennifer didn’t think of that first meeting and wonder how different her life would have been had her husband lived longer.

  She knew he would want her to be happy, though. And for the first time since he had died, she was finally starting to feel, well, if not happy then at least happier.

  She glanced at the dirty dishes and decided to leave them for her daughter, who was spending the night with her dad, Jennifer’s ex-husband. Turning the pages of the Jasper Sentinel, her eyes settled on an ad for the carnival. Her mind flooded with memories of the carnivals she had attended with her daughter. She could hear the girl’s nervous shrieks and feel her tiny body press against her as the rides looped around. Although her daughter was a teenager, Jennifer planned to take her to the carnival this year. They’d sway at the top of the Ferris wheel and make up stories about the people milling around the carnival below them. It would be just like it used to be.

  The ringing doorbell brought an end to Jennifer’s Moonshiner Days fantasies. She placed the newspaper on the table, walked through the house to the front door, and peered into the peephole. Smiling, she opened the door and said, “This is a surprise. But as long as you’re here, you can do the dishes.”

  Chapter One

  Maggie Morgan scrutinized the ultrasound image, searching for a nose. It was the second ultrasound her pregnant best friend Edie had undergone, and with the exception of the head, Maggie had yet to recognize any of the baby’s body parts. Of course, if she were honest, she would have to admit that she had struggled to identify the head on the other photos. In an effort to stall, she sipped one nourishing drink of water after another, while keeping her brown eyes focused on the image displayed on Edie’s phone. With Edie’s fingers drumming her impatience on the restaurant table, Maggie lied, “Oh, I see it.”

  “Show me,” Edie said.

  From the edge in Edie’s voice and the challenging look in her eyes, Maggie knew she hadn’t fooled her friend. Refusing to concede defeat, Maggie pointed to a blur on the image and said, “It’s right there.”

  “No, it’s not.” Edie snatched her phone from Maggie’s hand. “That’s one of her two eyes. See,” Edie tapped the phone with her forefinger, “she has two eyes, one on each side of her nose. Her one nose. How can you not see it?”

  Maggie had suffered through a similar reprimand when she had failed to perceive the lines on a previous picture that distinguished the baby girl from a boy. To her, all babies looked like aliens on ultrasounds, but she didn’t think she should share that observation with Edie. “I’m sorry, Edie. If it’s any consolation, you know I can’t read a map, either.”

  Returning her phone to her purse, Edie said, “You’re impossible. You probably wouldn’t even recognize her nose on one of those 4D ultrasounds.”

  The 4D photos reminded Maggie of Gollum from The Lord of the Rings movies, but she didn’t share that observation with Edie, either. Instead, she asked, “How was your doctor’s appointment?”

  Edie patted her protruding stomach. “Fine. Twenty-eight weeks today.”

  “You’re only 28 weeks? It seems like you’ve been pregnant for years.”

  “And I didn’t even tell you I was pregnant until I got through the first trimester. If you think it’s felt like forever, imagine how I feel? I’ve been counting down the days since week three.”

  “I almost wish you hadn’t told me until you were in labor. I’m not known for my patience.”

  Edie made a circular motion above her stomach. “You really think I could have hidden this? It looks like I’ve stuck one of those round watermelons up my shirt.”

  “You’re not that big.” Realizing she had placed an emphasis on “that,” Maggie quickly added, “Maybe your stomach looks like a cantaloupe, but definitely not a watermelon.”

  “Yeah, a large cantaloupe.” Grimacing, Edie re-adjusted her position in the chair. “Hey, Ben and I have another birthing class this evening. You should go with us. We can grab dinner afterward.”

  Although Maggie wasn’t sure what comprised a birthing class, she was sure she didn’t want to find out. “Aren’t those classes just for expectant mothers and their birthing coaches?”

  “There are no rules against bringing guests.” Edie cocked her head. “At least they haven’t told us we can’t bring guests, so I’ll take that as implied consent. We’re supposed to learn about breast-feeding tonight. I think they’re showing a movie.”

  “That sounds … educational, but I have plans.”

  “You? Have plans?”

  “I don’t appreciate the mixture of scorn and surprise in your voice,” Maggie said. “Why is it so hard to believe that I have plans?”

  “Because you’ve been holed up in the head of Caldonia Road for the last three-and-a-half months.”

  “We had a rough winter.”

  “Oh, I suspect it had less to do with the weather and more to do with your split with Luke.” When Maggie didn’t respond, Edie said, “I guess I should just be happy you didn’t do anything crazy like shave your head.”

  Instinctively touching her dark brown hair, Maggie said, “I wasn’t going to go full Britney Spears circa 2007. All I said is that I might cut it a little shorter.”

  “You have a pixie cut. How much shorter could you go?” Holding up one hand, Edie said, “Back to the subject of your self-imposed exile. Now that it’s spring, does that mean you plan to get out of the house more often?”

  “I’m getting out of the house this evening.”

  “Yeah, I forgot. You have ‘plans.’ And what exciting ‘plans’ are in store for you? Are you taking Barnaby for an extended walk?”

  “Let me take this opportunity to once again complain about your overuse of air quotes.”

  “And let me take this opportunity to remind you that we were discussing your plans for the evening.”

  Squirming in her chair, Maggie said, “I’m accompanying Tyler on an interview.”

  “Work? You’re working this evening? Work is not plans. It’s work.” The waiter stopped by to leave their bills, momentarily interrupting Edie’s diatribe. As soon as he walked away, she continued, “You know, when you broke up with Luke –”

  “I didn’t break up with Luke. It was a mutual decision.”

  “Whatever. I knew you were heartbroken, but I thought you’d be
okay. I thought you’d take some time and then –”

  “Reconcile with Seth?”

  Edie shrugged. “Seth was the love of your life. You’re both single now and you reconnected during your investigations. It makes sense to me that you would get back together.”

  “But that doesn’t mean it makes sense to me.”

  “Why not? Pumpkin, you’re not getting any younger, and you and Seth keep coming back into each other’s lives.”

  Maggie picked up her bill. “I need to get back to work.”

  “Oh, yeah, you need to rush back to work and get ready for your ‘plans.’” When Maggie shot her an irritated look, Edie said, “I’ll quit using air quotes if you tell me why you’re going on an interview with Tyler, in the evening no less.”

  “He’s interviewing a lady at her house and he’s not familiar with the road she lives on.”

  “He’s lived in Jasper for, what, two years? He should know the roads around here by now. And why can’t this lady come into the office? Why do you have to go to her?” Without giving Maggie time to answer, Edie pushed herself out of her chair and continued, “If you’re doing him a favor, at least tell me it’s an interesting story.”

  “It is. He’s writing a series on the first anniversary of the Jennifer Wagner murder.”

  “Yeah, that is coming up soon. She was killed last year during Moonshiner Days.”

  “Well, the night before it started, but close enough. Tyler is interviewing her housekeeper this evening.”

  “Ooh,” Edie said. “Is she still a suspect?”

  “I think the term the police used is person of interest. Her fingerprints were found on the meat thermometer sticking out of Jennifer Wagner’s neck.”

  “Who else is Tyler interviewing?”

  “The police detective who worked the case and, before you ask, it’s not Seth.”

  Snapping her fingers, Edie said, “Darn.”

  “He’s also scheduled an interview with Jennifer Wagner’s daughter.”

  “Are you going to sit in on those interviews, too?” Edie teased as they made their way toward the front of the restaurant. “Is this going to be another mystery for you to solve?”

  “Nope. I told you after the Jay Harris case that my sleuthing days are over. As far as I’m concerned, I’ll just be along for the ride.”

  Chapter Two

  Maggie held her tongue when Tyler complained about the narrow street that led up the hill to where Delphene Fugate, Jennifer Wagner’s housekeeper, lived.

  “We’re in town. I know it’s just a hole-in-the-wall like Jasper, but it’s still a town. If they’re not going to widen the roads, then they shouldn’t allow two-way traffic on what should be a one-way street. Great.” Tyler gripped the steering wheel. “Here comes a car.”

  “Just pull off into that empty parking spot and let him pass you.” Tyler did as she recommended and, as the other car drove by, Maggie waved at the driver.

  “Do you know him?” Tyler asked.

  “No.”

  “Then why did you wave at him?”

  “Because that’s what you do around here when you meet a car, Tyler. You wave.”

  That prompted another tirade on Tyler’s behalf, this one against strangers who strike up conversations. “This morning a man in the coffee shop told me he had a place on his hand that wouldn’t heal. I told him a place was a location and not the disgusting-looking infected sore on his knuckles. It’s probably one of those diabetic sores. Everybody around here has diabetes because everybody around here is fat. They’re all fat and they all smoke. Fat smokers. That describes the population in a nutshell.”

  As much as she wanted to put him in his place, Maggie let him talk without offering comment. She didn’t say anything more to Tyler until they arrived at Delphene Fugate’s house.

  “Look at this,” Tyler said while shaking his head. “Her house is hanging off the side of a hill.”

  “Flat land is at a premium around here.”

  “I know that, but look at her house. It’s on stilts. Why would anybody in their right mind live in a house on stilts?”

  Maggie had ignored enough of Tyler’s insults for one day. Tearing into him, she asked, “Do you realize how rude you sound? Delphene is welcoming you into her home. She doesn’t have to do that. She doesn’t have to talk to you. She’s doing you a favor, so quit questioning her mental faculties and making fun of where she lives.”

  Maggie didn’t wait for Tyler to defend himself. She stormed out of the car and trudged toward the house. As she did so, a little voice inside her head chastised her hypocrisy. Although she would never admit as much to Tyler, she also questioned the sturdiness of a house that relied on wooden stilts to prevent it from collapsing. But unlike Tyler, she would never give voice to such thoughts for fear of offending her host. Still, she had no desire to enter Delphene’s house and she welcomed the sight of a small woman with permed gray hair swaying on a front porch swing. If the stilts holding up one side of the house did buckle under the pressure, Maggie felt sure she could step off the porch before being knocked unconscious by falling rubble and flying debris.

  “Hello,” Maggie said as she stepped onto the porch, “are you Mrs. Fugate?”

  “I am, but you can call me Delphene.”

  “Okay, Delphene, you can call me Maggie.” Walking across the porch, Maggie shook Delphene’s hand and nodded to Tyler, who was coming up the porch steps. “I work with Tyler at the Jasper Sentinel.”

  Sizing up Tyler, Delphene said, “Why, you’re just a young’un. You sound older on the phone.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Fugate.”

  “I told you on the phone to call me Delphene.” Winking at Maggie, she said, “You don’t say my last name right no ways.”

  Tyler seemed confused, so Maggie explained, “You pronounce the name as ‘few-gate.’”

  “Yeah, like it’s spelled,” Tyler said.

  “Around here, we say ‘few-git,’” Maggie said.

  “Now, that’s a smart girl,” Delphene said. “Well, grab you a seat.”

  Maggie surveyed the porch furniture and chose a cast-iron chair with chipped white paint while Tyler eased into a rusting yellow glider.

  “You’uns want something to eat?” Delphene asked.

  “No, thank you,” Maggie said.

  As Tyler pulled his notepad from his camera bag, he said, “Maggie, would you mind starting while I get my stuff together?”

  Maggie assumed Tyler had requested her presence only for her familiarity with the area and she hadn’t prepared any questions. Even so, she asked Delphene how long she had cleaned house for Jennifer Wagner.

  “Eight years. I cleaned for the school board before I retired.” Shaking her head, Delphene said, “My pension ain’t nothing to brag about, and I couldn’t hardly make it. It’s a good thing I’m a healthy person because when I did get sick, I couldn’t hardly afford to have the drugstore fill my scriptions. And you can forget about extras like ice cream. Why, I couldn’t hardly make the ends meet. So I decided to go into business for myself. I started asking around. You know, to see if any of the teachers needed housekeepers. Jennifer was the first one to hire me. That was a big help because I wasn’t exactly a spring chicken. I was afraid nobody would want to hire an old woman like me, but Jennifer recommended me to others and that led to more jobs.”

  “I interviewed her when she was named teacher of the year,” Maggie said. “She seemed nice.”

  “She was,” Delphene agreed. “She shore was good to me.”

  With Tyler furiously scribbling in his notepad and making no effort to ask a question, Maggie continued, “How would you describe your relationship with Jennifer?”

  “I adored Jennifer and she felt the same way about me. She lost her mommy a few years ago and I think I come to be like a second mother to her.” Delphene’s eyes filled with tears. “The year before she died, she give me a Mother’s Day card telling me that very thing. She said she didn’t know wha
t she’d do without me. And let me tell you, it’s been hard this last year without her.”

  Maggie glanced at Tyler, who sat nodding at Delphene.

  “Delphene,” Maggie said, “tell us about your conversations with the police.”

  “That was a mistake. Let me give you’uns some advice.” Delphene quit swinging, firmly placed her feet on the porch floor, and sat forward. “Don’t never trust the police. I should of listened to my girl, Scootie. She told me the morning I found Jennifer not to talk to the police. She told me not to trust them. She told me they’d twist my words. But I didn’t have nothing to hide. I didn’t do nothing wrong, so I thought it would be all right to talk to them.” Falling back into the swing, Delphene slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Lord, between losing Jennifer and everybody thinking I’m a murderer, this year has been a nightmare. It’s been hard on my girl, Scootie, too. She has real bad nerves. She spent the night Jennifer died in the ER on account of her nervous stomach.”

  “So, uh,” Maggie interjected, “about your conversations with the police?”

  “You know, they was real nice the first time we talked. That was the morning I found Jennifer. But then they come here to my house that night. Why, it was bedtime. I was already in my nightgown. I’m a working woman. I go to bed early. Not that I would of slept much that night. I couldn’t get the picture of Jennifer laying on that kitchen floor out of my mind. But the police told me they had a few questions for me. They said it would help them out if I’d go to the station and talk with them. I remember thinking that there wasn’t nothing they couldn’t ask me in my own house. I didn’t know why I needed to change out of my nightgown and traipse all over town, but I still say I’ll do whatever I can if it helps them or anybody else find out what happened to Jennifer. That’s why I’m talking to you’uns today. But like the big dummy I am, I got dressed that night and went with them to the police station. It didn’t take me long to figure out I’d made another mistake in a lifetime of mistakes. They kept at me for hours, trying to make me talk bad about Jennifer and admit I hurt her. I wouldn’t do it cause I don’t have a bad word to say against Jennifer and I never harmed a hair on her head.”