Murder at Moonshiner Days

by Michelle Goff

  Maggie had grown accustomed to such queries, but before she could give voice to an answer, Edie responded. “She was engaged once, but they called off the engagement due to so-called irreconcilable differences. Neither one of them has had a lasting relationship since the breakup, though. And they’re both single again.”

  Edie’s sing-song explanation triggered much oohing and aahing about the course of true love before Edie’s friend once again addressed Maggie. “Don’t worry,” she said while grabbing a purple marker from the clutches of her little boy, who was racing toward Edie’s beige sofa, “there’s still time for you. The batteries in biological clocks last much longer now than they used to.”

  Maggie considered telling her that as far as she was concerned, her biological clock could be unplugged. She knew it would do no good, though. Mothers and some fathers could not grasp the concept that she didn’t want kids. She had first shared this truth with folks when she was a teenager, only to be told that she’d change her mind. For all she knew, they could be right. She doubted it, though, because it’s not like she had made a conscious decision. It had been made for her. She had never felt a biological urge to be a mother, and she thought it would be selfish to have a child on the off chance the urge would one day hit her.

  Instead of sharing her feelings on the matter, she worked on the “how well do you know mommy and daddy” quiz she had volunteered to create. After the color scheme – pale pink – had been selected and the party favors ordered, Edie drew Maggie into the kitchen and pulled her into a hug.

  “I’m sorry about earlier. I know how much you hate those questions about marriage and babies.”

  “It’s okay,” Maggie said. “Of course, I noticed that you couldn’t help but drop a not-so-subtle hint about Seth.”

  “That’s why you’re so good at solving crimes, Pumpkin. You always pick up on the hints.”

  After finishing up at Edie’s, Maggie settled into her car and called Blake. Her hopes of arranging a meeting for later that day were dashed when Blake told her she had gone out of town with her dad, stepmom, and sister. As she explained to Maggie, she couldn’t bear remaining in town on the first anniversary of her mom’s death. Maggie understood and made plans to swing by Jeff’s garage after work on Monday.

  After finishing her call with Blake, Maggie dialed Seth’s number. When he answered, she said, “Are you counting down the last hours of Moonshiner Days?”

  “The hours? I’m counting down the minutes.”

  “Is it keeping you that busy?”

  “Yeah. I’m getting ready to book two women for disorderly conduct.”

  “You mean people actually get arrested during Moonshiner Days? I thought it was three days of sanctioned drunken debauchery.”

  “It’s true that we let some things go, but if your drunken debauchery turns into a hair-pulling, bare-knuckled brawl that spills into the street during the parade, you’re going to get arrested. They took out a baritone player for goodness sake.”

  “What’s a baritone? Never mind. What were they fighting over?”

  “The usual. Which Little Miss Moonshiner wore the prettiest dress. What can I do for you, Maggie?”

  “Do you know anything about Jennifer Wagner meeting a man online?”

  “There’s something in the case files about that. Apparently, there was no evidence that she made physical contact with him. Actually, there’s no evidence that she made any contact with him.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Her laptop and tablet are missing and there were no online dating apps on her phone.”

  “Did you all find anything of interest on her phone?”

  “Nope. Just what you would expect. Texting with her daughter and friends about where to eat dinner, what time to pick Blake up from practice. You know, the everyday stuff all of us talk about. She and Traci Taylor talked on the phone a lot, too, even on their land lines. But there was nothing out of the ordinary. Unfortunately, the killer didn’t telegraph their intentions.”

  “Do you think the online dating angle could be a viable lead?”

  “It could be, but we can’t very well build a case around a conversation Jennifer had about a man whose identity we don’t know and have no way of learning.”

  “According to Traci Taylor, his name was Bob Smith.”

  “Well, that generic name doesn’t help much.”

  “I know. It would be so much better for us if he had an exotic name like Laszlo or Halifax.”

  “You came up with those names awfully quick.”

  “Not really. I’ve been thinking of names ever since my conversation with Traci Taylor. Could you subpoena the records of dating sites to determine if Jennifer had created a profile? Or look for a Bob Smith on those sites?” Hearing a familiar noise on the other end of the phone, she asked, “Are you laughing at me?”

  “I prefer to call it chuckling.”

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Do you have any idea how many online dating sites are out there? Thousands. We can’t expect one site to hand over records based on Jennifer casually mentioning to her friends that she had met a guy online. There’s no way we would get thousands to go along with that kind of request. You know better than that. Besides, what happened to your theory that a blood-thirsty vendor and/or carny worker killed Jennifer? And if you think this online guy killed her, do you also think he came back to town this year during Moonshiner Days just to break into Jennifer’s neighbor’s house and, I don’t know, square dance in the park?”

  “Stop with the rational talk. You’ve made your point. I’m glad you mentioned the burglary, though. Something about that doesn’t fit.”

  “In spite of my joke about Bob Smith, maybe the crimes are unrelated.”

  “Maybe. So, uh, is there anything new on the Scootie and Delphene front?”

  “Scootie is still in jail and, at the moment, Delphene is not in jail.”

  “Do you expect either of those situations to change in the near future?”

  “No comment. Hey, I’ve got to go. I have to book the wrestlers.”

  “Okay. Stay safe and dry out there.”

  “You, too.”

  Maggie tossed her phone onto the passenger side and rested her head on the back of her seat. Seth was right. Unless Jennifer had met a Moonshiner Days worker or an out-of-town festival enthusiast online – and what were the chances of that happening – the killer couldn’t be a vendor or carnival worker or annual visitor as well as the man from the dating site.

  “Maybe I’m just grasping for straws. Maybe I just don’t want it to be Delphene. Maybe I – ” Smacking herself in the head, she said, “I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of this before.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Maggie watched as a handcuffed Scootie shuffled into the detention center’s visiting room. She wished Scootie would pick up the pace. Not that she was in any position to complain. After all, Scootie was doing her a favor by agreeing to talk to her. But on Maggie’s only other excursion to the detention center, she and Mac Honaker’s murderer had had the visiting room to themselves. That was not the case today. Several other inmates and their guests crowded the room, including a couple engaged in a heated debate over what Maggie perceived to be the woman’s failure to bring the man his preferred snack. As he reiterated for, at Maggie’s count the fourth time, that he had specifically requested the blue bag of Doritos instead of the red, Scootie eased into the chair opposite Maggie.

  “How are you doing, Scootie?”

  “How do you think I’m doing? I’m in jail. They’re treating me like a criminal.”

  “Well, you were caught selling Jennifer Wagner’s purses and wallets.”

  “I told them. I told everybody. Jennifer give me those purses not a week before she died. She told me she wanted me to have them. I think she had one of them premonitions. I think she seen her death.”

  “If that’s the case, did she tell you who killed her?” When Scootie didn’t respond,
Maggie said, “I’m not here to talk about the purses.”

  “Good, cause I’m done talking about them. I know y’all are just out to get me. That’s how it’s always been. Y’all won’t leave me alone. And I know all about you and that Seth Heyward. I warned Mommy about you. I told her you was up to no good when you come sneaking around the house. She wouldn’t listen to me. Mommy’s too trusting. That’s how she’s always been.”

  “Scootie, I did not come sneaking around Delphene’s house. I told her in very clear terms why I was there. As for me and Seth, well, not that it’s any of your business, but we’ve been over for years.”

  Before Scootie could respond, the angry fan of blue-bagged Doritos jumped from his chair, informing his visitor that he wasn’t going to waste time with someone who didn’t understand him. As the sobbing visitor slipped out of the room, Scootie said, “See what I have to put up with in here? This stress and arguing ain’t good for my nervous stomach. I hope that makes you happy.”

  “Scootie, I’m sorry that you’re miserable, but I had nothing to do with your arrest.”

  “You could help me out if you wanted to.”

  “How?”

  “You could talk to that Seth Heyward and get me out of here.”

  “Seth is not the reason you’re in here. You’re here because you were caught selling stolen property at Moonshiner Days. To make matters worse, you didn’t even have a permit. Besides all that, you’re still in here because you haven’t made bail.”

  “If you’re going to talk mean to me, I’ll just go back to the cell.”

  Before Maggie could plead her case, she heard someone say, “Hey, I know you.” She looked up to see G.L. Murphy standing in front of her. G.L.’s brother, W.L., had been a suspect in Jay Harris’ disappearance. Maggie had grown fond of the dim-witted W.L. and had helped him find a job. The last she heard, he had remained employed and out of trouble. From the looks of G.L.’s county-issued jumpsuit, she couldn’t say the same for his brother.

  “Hey, G.L., how are you doing?” she asked.

  “Except for my girl bringing me the wrong Doritos, I guess I’m doing all right. I been with her for three months now. You think she’d know me good enough to know I can’t stand the Doritos in the red bag. Can’t stand them. Hey, I wish I’d knowed you’d be here. I’d have told Dubya Ell.”

  Maggie wondered what had led to G.L.’s latest stay in the detention center and why he considered the visiting room the perfect place for a reunion between her and his brother. “Maybe next time,” she said.

  G.L.’s eyes shifted from Maggie to Scootie. “Hey there, girl. I heard you were in here.”

  “You two know each other?” Maggie asked.

  “Scootie and me go way back. Let’s see,” G.L. rested his small frame against the table, “we worked together a couple years ago.”

  “‘Worked together?’” Maggie asked.

  “Me and this girl I was dating and her mom and Scootie. My girl had a baby. It wasn’t mine, it was born before I met her. Just so you know. Anyway, we would take turns taking the baby into stores and putting stuff in the stroller. That was a good setup, wasn’t it, Scootie?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, G.L.”

  “How could you forget that, Scootie? Remember the day we pushed a steak dinner and a case of beer out the front door of that store over on the bypass?”

  “No.”

  “Huh. I don’t know how anybody could forget that. That’s the best dinner I ever had.”

  “If it was such a good setup,” Maggie asked, “why did you stop?”

  “My girl got back together with her baby’s daddy.” Shrugging, G.L. said, “That was some good steaks. My girl’s mom, my ex-girl’s mom, fixed them on a grill. Remember that, Scootie? We took that grill right out of somebody’s back yard. It had wheels and we just rolled it right out of the yard.” When Scootie didn’t respond, he said, “Well, I better get back to my room. Let me know next time you’re coming by and I’ll tell Dubya Ell.”

  “Tell him I said hi.”

  As G.L. walked away, Maggie wondered if that other girl, the one with the baby, had known what flavor Doritos G.L. preferred.

  “So, I reckon you can’t be too bad if you’re a friend of G.L.’s,” Scootie said.

  “Well, we are judged by the company we keep. Does this mean you’ll answer a couple questions for me?”

  “I guess it depends on the questions.”

  “Fair enough. I was wondering if Jennifer gave you anything else. You know, before she died.”

  “Like what?”

  “Oh, maybe her computers or tablets.”

  “No, she didn’t give me nothing like that.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, you forgot about the purses, maybe you’ve forgotten about the computers.”

  “No, I need me a new computer. And I’d like to have me one of those tablets so I can watch TV in the bathroom. No, I wouldn’t have forgot I had those. It ain’t like purses. You put them in a drawer and pretty soon you forget all about them.” Frowning, Scootie added, “I sure wish Jennifer have give me a computer and a tablet when she give me those purses and billfolds.”

  “Well, maybe she gave them to somebody else.”

  “I know who she didn’t give them to. That woman she was arguing with.”

  “What woman? When was this?”

  “I don’t remember the exact day.”

  “What do you remember about it?”

  “It was warm. I remember that. I was wearing short sleeves and the window on the car was down, so it had to be spring.”

  “Last spring?”

  “Yeah. I drove by Jennifer’s to see Mommy, but she wasn’t there. You know, Mommy’s not always where she’s supposed to be. She wasn’t where she said she was the night Jennifer died. It’d be a shame if the police found out about that. They might get the wrong idea about Mommy.”

  “And what would this wrong idea be, Scootie? What are you trying to say?”

  “I ain’t trying to say nothing.”

  “Then why do you keep implying that Delphene was up to no good that night? You told the –” Maggie stopped herself from telling Scootie she knew she had tried to sell out Delphene to the police. “You mentioned it one evening at your mom’s. It was the evening you were eating pizza and drinking green Kool-Aid.”

  “I forgot you was there that night. I been through a lot the past few days. I can’t be expected to remember everything.”

  Maggie could feel the tension moving from her shoulders to her neck. “Scootie, it’s just you and me. Do you think Delphene was lying about her whereabouts the night Jennifer died?”

  “I ain’t accusing my own mommy of lying. I’m just saying she wasn’t where she said she was.”

  “If she wasn’t home, where do you think she was?”

  “I can’t answer that.”

  “Do you think she killed Jennifer?”

  “My mommy wouldn’t kill nobody. Least I don’t think she would.”

  Maggie stared at Scootie, but comprehension was not forthcoming. “What were we talking about? Oh, yeah, you drove to Jennifer’s to see Delphene.”

  “That’s right. I stopped the car in the street. I was only going to be there for a minute, so I thought that would be okay. It’s a wonder the FBI or that Seth Heyward didn’t swoop in and arrest me.”

  As Scootie continued to speak, the guard walked over and told her that her time was up. Scootie, who normally moved through life at a pace that would make a sloth impatient, popped from her chair like she had been released from the top of a jack-in-the-box.

  “Wait,” Maggie said, “finish your story.” When Scottie gave her a startled look, Maggie added, “About Jennifer. Arguing with a woman.”

  “Oh, that. She and some woman were standing on the porch yelling at each other.”

  When Scootie turned to walk away, Maggie said, “What did this woman look like?”

  “She wasn’t exactly fat. And her hai
r was so blonde it was white. It was poofy. It reminded me of –”

  “Cake icing.”

  “Huh. Now, how did you know that?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Maggie needed to talk to Didi. She needed to find out why Didi had failed to mention that she had engaged in a screaming match with Jennifer not long before her death. She needed to know why Didi had led her to believe she hadn’t spoken to Jennifer in the months leading up to her murder.

  But first she had to keep her appointment with Blake. She drove to Jeff’s garage and endured the accompanying odors while chatting with Blake about Moonshiner Days and the weather.

  “I’m glad this cooler, rainy weather held off for Moonshiner Days,” Maggie said. “Well, at least it held off for most of it.”

  “They said it rained on Saturday for the parade,” Blake said. “We were out of town. I love Moonshiner Days, but I didn’t want to be here this year.”

  “I hope you can get to the point where you can enjoy things that remind you of your mom.”

  “Thanks. So, what did you want to talk about?”

  “A couple things. Blake, I’ve heard that your mom was dating someone she met online.”

  “My mom? And online dating?” Blake giggled. “She said people who did that were desperate. And losers. The police asked me about that, too, but I told them there’s no way my mom would have done that. No way.”

  “But Traci Taylor and Phil Wainwright said she told them she had met someone online.”

  Shaking her head, Blake said, “I don’t know why she would have told them something like that. No way.”

  “Do you think that maybe she hadn’t told you because she thought you weren’t ready for her to start dating? I understand you were close to your stepdad.”

  “I was close to Mel. He was my second dad, but I would have been okay with her dating. I just wanted her to be happy.”