Maggie arrived at the agreed-upon meeting location, next to the Tilt-a-Whirl, and checked the time. She was a few minutes early. She had brought the camera with her, so she snapped a few shots of festive Moonshiner Days-goers. She photographed a toddler struggling to manage a tower of pink cotton candy half her size, a trio of skinny teenage boys failing to impress a gaggle of teenage girls by demonstrating little to no aptitude at a carnival game, and a little boy clutching the neon orange teddy bear his dad won for him by demonstrating aptitude at the carnival game that had failed the teens.
She did not, however, take a picture of a young lady wobbling off the Tilt-a-Whirl. Not only would it had been disrespectful to do so, but it reminded her of the time a toothless, yet chivalrous carnival worker, who bore a slight resemblance to Brad Pitt during his long-haired Legends of the Fall phase, had stopped the ride when it became apparent Maggie had become sick. She had no more than exited the ride when she threw up in a cup someone handed to her.
That was in the days when the carnival had remained open on the Sundays following Moonshiner Days. So Seth had not had to work that day and had been by her side. After thanking the carnival worker and the accommodating stranger who surrendered his paper cup and diagnosing her adult-onset motion sickness, Seth had driven her home. She had taken a nap and awakened to find him making a light supper for her. She instinctively scanned the crowd for him, wondering if he would come to the carnival to interview workers about last night’s burglary. She also wondered if Jennifer’s killer was in her midst. She knew better than to jump to conclusions, but what were the chances of two houses on the same street being burglarized during two consecutive Moonshiner Days? Then again, what were the chances that Todd Taylor would injure himself during two consecutive Moonshiner Days?
At that moment she saw Todd and Traci, accompanied by a lively dark-haired girl, approaching her. “Hello,” she said, bending to greet the little girl, “you must be Tessa.”
The child looked at her mom, who said, “Tessa, this is Miss Maggie. Daddy is going to take you to get a slushy while I talk to her.”
With that, Todd, sporting a sling on his right arm, and Tessa disappeared into the crowd. “Did you hear about that house getting broken into?” Traci asked. Before Maggie could answer, she said, “Of course, you did. Everybody’s heard about it.” Moving so close to Maggie that their shoulders touched, she whispered, “Working at the paper, I’ll bet you have insider information.”
“I wish that was the case, but we know as much as everyone else does,” Maggie answered. “One of our reporters is talking to the detective in charge of the investigation this afternoon. Hopefully, we’ll have more information in tomorrow’s paper.”
“It’s obvious now,” Traci said. “After you told us about Jennifer firing Delphene, I had started to think she did it. But it’s got to be,” her eyes darted back and forth, “one of them.”
Although Maggie had been entertaining similar thoughts, she said, “I guess we’ll have to see what the investigation reveals.” Clearing her throat, she added, “I appreciate you and Todd taking time out from fun with Tessa to talk to me. Where’s your son?”
“He’s a cool teenager now. He can’t be seen with his boring old parents. You know how kids are.” Traci scrunched up her face. “I’m sorry. I forgot. Chris told us you don’t have kids.”
Maggie had never decided what annoyed her more – people who assumed she pined for children or people who assumed she regretted her decision not to have them. Smiling, she said, “I do know how kids are. I have nephews. Being an aunt is the best of both worlds. You get to have fun with them, fill them up with sugary snacks, and then send them to their parents when they’re cranky or too energized to sleep.” This time, it was Maggie’s turn to move closer to Traci. “Plus, I wasn’t cursed with stretch marks or hours of agonizing labor.”
Inching away from Maggie, Traci said, “On the phone you said you had more questions. What do you want to know?”
“More about Jennifer and Phil. Since we talked, someone told me that you said Phil had once asked out Jennifer.”
Traci snorted. “That’s all?”
“Is there more? Is there something else I should know?”
“No. But Phil having feelings for Jennifer isn’t exactly a secret. Everybody knew he liked her.”
“Maybe so, but I didn’t know he had asked her out. You didn’t say anything about that to me.”
“What difference does it make?”
“I’m not sure it makes a difference –”
“Then why are we having this conversation?”
“Because, if I’m going to figure out who killed Jennifer, then I need as much information as possible. With that in mind, when did Phil ask out Jennifer? I don’t need to know the exact date, just a general idea.”
“Oh, I can give you a pretty good idea. It was about a year before she died.”
Chris had theorized that Phil didn’t pursue a relationship with Jennifer as long as he was her supervisor. Considering that, Maggie asked, “Assuming Phil had feelings for her, why do you think he waited so long before he asked her out? Do you think it was because he was the principal and she was a teacher?”
“Well, school officials are very mindful of nepotism.”
Suddenly, two shrieking teenage girls bounced to Traci’s side. Traci shrieked nearly as loudly and they exchanged hugs. After catching up with “Miss Taylor,” the girls bounced away as energetically as they had arrived.
“Those girls were in my class seven or eight years ago,” Traci said. “It warms my heart to know they haven’t forgotten me. It makes me think I’m making a difference.”
Maggie was surprised to see Traci trying to blink away the tears forming in her eyes. “I remember my first-grade teacher,” Maggie shared. “Of course, that could be because she accused one of our classmates’ mothers of trying to kill us with what she believed were poisoned cupcakes. Not that we ate the cupcakes. Our teacher threw them into the trash and then dragged the trash can out –”
Dabbing her eyes, Traci said, “As I was saying about Jennifer and Phil, if nepotism or fraternization or whatever they call it was an issue, I think they could have worked something out. I think there are simpler explanations for why they never dated. She was married, first to Jeff and then to Mel, for most of the time they knew each other. And Phil is such a gentleman. Even if Jennifer had been interested, there’s no way he would have become romantically involved with a married woman.” Traci paused to hug a little boy who ran up to her and to ask him and his mother if he had been practicing his counting. When they left, Traci resumed her monologue. “What I’m about to say is just conjecture. Okay? Although Phil dated here and there, I’ve always thought Jennifer was the reason none of his relationships lasted or even became that serious. I mean, who would want their boyfriend or husband spending so much time with another woman? I know I wouldn’t put up with it. And I probably shouldn’t say this since Jennifer’s not here to defend herself, but I think she loved that. She once bragged to me about how one of Phil’s girlfriends hated her. I suggested that she back off and let Phil live a little, but she said Phil told his dates up front that they would have to accept her presence in his life.” Traci waved at another youngster before asking, “Why all this interest in Phil? Surely you can’t suspect him of killing Jennifer? That would be as crazy as suspecting Blake.”
Maggie resisted the urge to say that might not be so crazy of an idea. “I’m just trying to get a better understanding of what was going on in Jennifer’s life at the time of her death.”
“Jennifer was like the rest of us.”
“What does that mean?” Maggie asked.
“Her life was pretty boring.”
“If not Phil, was she seeing anybody else?”
Giggling, Traci said, “One night at dinner, she told us –”
“Us?”
“Todd, Phil, and I. She told us about meeting some guy online. Can you believe that? Onli
ne dating. Who does that?” She didn’t allow Maggie to answer before continuing, “You know, that might be something for you to look into. You don’t know who you’re actually talking to online. I warned her about that. I told her that people online lie about their identity all the time and that she might meet some sort of psycho. Maybe she did. Maybe that’s who killed her.”
“Did she mention meeting or talking to anyone in particular?”
“There was one guy. She said he was a retired teacher or maybe he had been an administrator. I can’t remember. Anyway, he was living in Florida. She said something about visiting him.”
“Wait. She had a boyfriend?”
“I don’t know that he was actually a boyfriend.”
“Still, this wasn’t mentioned in any of Tyler’s stories about the murder. Blake didn’t say anything about her mom seeing somebody. Why am I just now hearing about this?”
“You need to chill out.”
“I just don’t understand –”
“I don’t know why it didn’t make it into the paper.” Traci squinted her eyes and frowned. “On second thought, I’m not sure I told the police about this.”
“You just said that this man could be her killer. Why didn’t you share this theory with the police?”
“I don’t appreciate your tone, Miss Maggie. Don’t forget, I’m doing you a favor.”
“Actually, you’re doing your murdered friend and her daughter a favor.”
Traci flushed. “I guess I didn’t think to tell the police because it happened months before Jennifer died.”
“How many months?”
“I can’t say for sure. It was in the fall, though. We had been back at school for a few weeks and I remember that the night air was getting chillier. Jennifer and I said it was almost sweater-wearing weather and the men said it was football-watching weather. That’s when Jennifer told us about this man. She said that once it got cold, she’d go visit him in Florida. She never went, though. In fact, she never mentioned him again. I asked her about him a few times after that and she always laughed. I decided she had tried online dating as a fluke or had come to her senses.” Shrugging, Traci added, “Or maybe there was more to the story. Maybe this mystery man stalked her from Florida – if that’s really where he lived – and killed her.”
As Maggie opened her mouth to ask a question, Traci said, “Then again, I’m not even sure this man existed.”
“Why?”
“His name was Bob Smith,” Traci said with a satisfied smile. “If that’s not a made-up name, I don’t know what is.”
“Why would she invent a boyfriend?”
“Maybe she was like Jan Brady. Remember her pretend boyfriend, George Glass? Now that’s a good name for a make-believe boyfriend.” Returning to the subject, Traci said, “Or maybe Jennifer wanted to see how Phil would react.”
“How did Phil react?”
Cocking her head, Traci said, “It did seem to upset him. But maybe he was as repulsed by the idea of online dating as I was. I mean, really, who does that?”
Maggie started to explain that millions of people utilize online dating sites every day. But just then, Tessa sprinted to Traci, almost knocking her down. Pulling her daughter into her arms, Traci said, “Somebody’s full of energy.”
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Tessa said.
“Come on, Daddy,” Traci said, “let’s go find this girl a clean bathroom.”
“Actually,” Maggie said, “would you mind sticking around, Todd? I have a couple questions for you.”
“Make it quick,” Traci said. “I don’t think Tessa can wait much longer.”
Maggie didn’t think the squirming girl looked like she could wait another minute. “You should probably take her the bathroom,” Maggie said. “I’ll make sure Todd doesn’t end up in another sling.”
Tessa tugged on Traci’s arm. “Mom, come on. Let’s go.”
“Okay, okay.” As Tessa pulled her away, Traci said, “We’ll be back in a minute, hon.”
With Traci and Tessa gone, Maggie pointed toward Todd’s sling, saying, “Sorry to make a joke at your expense. How did you break your arm?”
“It’s not broken. I dislocated my shoulder.”
“Ouch. How did it happen?”
Todd gestured in the direction Traci and Tessa had walked. “Tessa left some toys in the hall and I fell. I fell on my shoulder. The doctor said it was a freak accident and I would have been all right if I hadn’t tried to stop my fall.” He raised his eyes and said, “What can you do?”
“I hope you didn’t do permanent damage to yourself.”
“I’m sure everything will be fine. It’s not the first injury I’ve had.”
“Yeah, about that. I heard it’s not even the first injury you’ve had during Moonshiner Days. I heard you ended up with a cut on your hand last year. Must be something about this time of year.”
“Must be.”
“How did you cut yourself?”
“Opening a pack of bacon. I wasn’t even supposed to be eating bacon. I had just gone to the doctor a couple weeks before and my blood pressure was high and I had gained some weight. So Traci had me on a diet. But I had snuck around and bought a pack of bacon and hid it in the freezer. Traci and the kids were gone, so I decided, you know, while the cat’s away. It’s embarrassing, but what can I say? I’m clumsy. And Traci said it was karma’s way of punishing me.”
Maggie considered his explanation to contain just a little too much detail. “And to think, you cut your finger around the same time someone stabbed Jennifer to death.”
Licking his lips, Todd said, “Me cutting myself is nothing compared to what happened to Jennifer.”
“No, your wound wasn’t fatal. But, Todd,” Maggie sighed. His statement confused her. Besides, no matter how many deaths and disappearances she investigated, she still hadn’t gotten used to asking people the tough questions. She hadn’t worked out in her mind a connection between stabbing by meat thermometer and cutting by knife, either. She thought the two events might be linked, though, and she felt compelled to ask, “Did Jennifer cut you? Did you –”
“Jennifer?” Todd laughed. “You think Jennifer cut me?”
“Well, I thought it was worth a shot.”
Todd laughed again. He laughed so hard that a couple kids passing by stopped to ask, “You all right, Mr. Taylor?” He waved them off before asking Maggie, “Why would Jennifer stab me?”
She shrugged. “You have to admit, it kind of looks suspicious.”
As fast as if someone had flipped a switch, Todd stopped laughing. “Yeah, I guess it does.”
Chapter Thirteen
Maggie questioned her decision to cover the announcement of the quilt show winners. She could have called the show sponsors to learn the names of victorious quilters, contacted the winners for quotes, and then swung by the extension office to take photos of the prize-winning quilts. She had, instead, chosen to join her mom and Sylvie for the live announcement. Ultimately, she knew her presence would produce a better story. She had interviewed the quilters who won first, second, and third place as well as two who had walked away empty-handed. She had also talked to a multi-generational family admiring the displayed quilts. Professionally-speaking, she knew she had made the right decision. Personally-speaking, she wished Lena and Sylvie would quit complaining.
“I told you it was a waste of time for me to bring one of my quilts over here,” Lena said to Sylvie.
“It ain’t right,” Sylvie said. “I tell you it ain’t right. I examined every quilt in this building and I ain’t found nary a one stitched entirely by hand or as pretty as your Little Dutch Girl. They don’t want to hear what I have to say, but they should have a separate category for quilts made on a sewing machine.” Sylvie spat out the last two words as if she had tasted poison. “Quilting on a sewing machine. That ain’t quilting. That’s sewing.”
“We’re getting too old, Sylvie,” Lena said. “The old ways of doing things are d
ying out. Time is passing us by.”
“It must not be passing you by too fast, Mom,” Maggie reasoned. “You won third place and twenty-five dollars.”
“It’s the principle, Maggie,” Lena said. “And twenty-five dollars wouldn’t buy supper here at Moonshiner Days for me and your daddy. You could eat for a week on what they charge you for a sandwich.”
“I don’t care for the food they sell here,” Sylvie said. “It don’t taste good. It’s too greasy and they make it too fast. No meat cooked that fast can really get done. I don’t care if they do check the temperature. My niece and her girl wanted me to eat something called a jyrow with them, but I said, ‘No, thank you. I’ll eat a cheese sandwich at home.’”
If Maggie’s dad hadn’t left explicit instructions for her to wait for him at the quilt show, she would have left. As it was, she tuned out Lena and Sylvie and went over the details emerging about the burglarized Fifth Street house. According to Tyler’s story, the homeowners had been out of town at the time of the burglary. A friend who had agreed to feed their cats and check on the house had discovered a ransacked interior. She had called the police who, in turn, had contacted the homeowners who cut short their vacation. Upon returning home, they had been relieved to discover that only a few belongings were missing. The police speculated that something or someone had interrupted or scared the burglar before he or she could swipe more items. The police also verified rumors that they had questioned every carnival worker and vendor about the crime. What’s more, Moonshiner Days representatives confirmed rumors that attendance was down this year and that carnival rides and booths had been closed periodically so that the workers could comply with the investigation. Police officials, however, would not comment on a possible connection between the burglary and Jennifer Wagner’s murder. They advised everyone to keep their doors locked and their eyes open and to come out and enjoy the festival.
Murder at Moonshiner Days Page 9
