Murder to the Max: Witches of Keyhole Lake Mysteries

by Tegan Maher

  Locals were the bread and butter of the businesses in town, but you can't pay your electric bill with carbs and fat. We need some extra meat on the bone, which was what tourism provided.

  Anyway, my point is that we needed extra pastries because there were still lots of folks in town. After I met Hunter for brunch, I'd take the pastries over to Brew, but first, I had an order of biscuits and gravy with my name on them.

  I pulled into the gravel lot of the Starlight Diner a few minutes early and pulled into a shaded spot. It would take less effort to maintain the spell I needed to keep the pastries from melting.

  I'd found that it was easier to put the pastries in one of those insulated pizza bags and give the inside a frosty blast rather than focus on maintaining a constant temp.

  It only required one blast of energy rather than a steady trickle that I'd have to maintain. And if I added a nice blast to my newer, well-insulated truck, it was good for an hour or so in summer temperatures. I missed Bessie's idiosyncrasies but I didn't miss her non-functional AC.

  I'd packed a couple of boxes just for Ray and Jeanie, so I scooped those off the bench seat, cast the spell on the others, and headed inside.

  Their daughter Becki, who happened to be third member of Shelby's gal-pal trio, saw me coming and opened the door for me. Considering I ate there at least once a week, this wasn't my first pastry-toting rodeo, so she knew what I had.

  "Hey Noelle! Just go ahead and sit wherever you want."

  The pretty blonde teenager was eyeballing the boxes and I smiled. "Thanks, Becki. These are for y'all. I threw in a couple of apple fritters since they're your favorite."

  She grinned and brought me a cup of coffee and a water, then pilfered through the box for the fritters. Since it was too late for breakfast but not quite lunchtime, I was one of the few people there and just took a minute to enjoy the quiet.

  By the time Hunter pulled in, I was on my second cup of coffee and feeling pretty good about the day. I turned the barn puzzle over in my head, but couldn't find an answer for the life of me.

  He leaned over and gave me a kiss, then settled into the booth beside of me and asked Becki for a coke.

  "Have you already looked at the menu?" he asked.

  "Nah, I've been craving biscuits and gravy so that's what I'm getting. You go ahead and look though."

  While he glanced over the single laminated sheet, I decided to jump in with both feet because Hunter seemed to be leaning more and more toward Joe, and I just didn’t see it. Not with Addy, Belle, and Coralee—and don’t forget the victim himself—saying he wouldn’t have.

  "So who’s on the agenda for today? Chet Malcolm? Larry Huffman? Bo Jackson?"

  He looked at me and arched a brow. "Is that your not-so-tactful way of asking me if I'm going to talk to them?"

  I concentrated on wadding up a straw paper. "Well, yeah. I mean, I don't mean it that way. I just want to know how dead-set you are that Joe's the one who did it."

  He sighed. "Noelle, he had a falling out with the victim. He actually threatened to beat him to death. That doesn't look good."

  "I know. But I just want to make sure it was him. There's no actual evidence yet. It just doesn't feel right to me."

  "Why? Because everybody says so? That's what everybody always says. He was such a nice guy. I woulda never thought.”

  That got under my skin a little, partly because he was right. But it just didn't set well with me for some reason, and not just because everybody else, including Max, didn't think it was him. My witchy instincts were rejecting the concept outright.

  "I'll check into them, okay?” he said. “It kind of irritates me that you think I'd be so myopic and incompetent. Can we eat now?"

  "Yeah, it's just, I'm really not trying to be a pain in the ass, but—" I stopped when he gave me a pointed look. "Fine."

  We put our orders in and while we were waiting, he said, "Just so you know, I did look for Basil Bennett. He's nowhere to be found but the bartender at the Cheshire Cat says he was there most of the night and was probably 'too hungover to swing a cat, much less a toilet tank lid, assuming he wasn't still passed out.' Her words, not mine."

  That was something, anyway.

  While we were eating, Jeanie came out to say hello.

  "Hey guys! Thanks for the goody box, Noe. It's always nice to eat somethin' I didn't make. Is everything okay?"

  I scooched into the booth and made room for her, swallowing a mouthful of biscuits and gravy with a dollop of fresh blackberry jam as I did. "It's amazing as usual. How you been?"

  "We've been good," she said as she slid in beside me and signed in relief. "This fishin' tournament's kept us busier than a one legged man in a butt-kickin' contest, so it's nice to sit. Still, it's better to have too much business that not enough, I reckon."

  "No doubt. Bobbie Sue's been slammed, too. I had to go in and help the other night."

  She drew her eyebrows down. "Lordy. We went down for supper the other night and that new girl waited on us. I hate to badmouth her, but jeez. If her brains were dynamite, she wouldn't have enough to blow her nose. Rude, too. Course, considerin' her older sister, I'm not surprised."

  I furrowed my brow. "What do you mean? Who's her older sister?"

  "Why I'd think you of all people would know that. She's Katie Lawson’s little sister."

  "Shut your mouth! Are you serious?"

  She nodded. "As a heart attack."

  Hunter looked confused so I started to fill him in. Jeanie waved me off. "I get to tell this one, cause ain't no way you'll get it accurate from an outsider's standpoint."

  She turned to him and leaned in. "It was her senior prom. I was a few years ahead of them, but my younger brother forgot his wallet so I took it up to him. Raeann was dating Billy Evans, but he'd stood her up for prom and showed up with Katie Lawson instead."

  When I pulled up, I saw Rae cryin' and runnin' toward the lot, but Noe here was spittin' mad. Katie was standin' there beside ole Billy lookin' all hoity toity and smug and Noelle stepped up and punched her right in the snot-box, then grabbed her by her updo and proceeded to beat the daylights out of her right there. And then—"

  Jeanie started laughing and could barely talk, but she drew in a steadying breath and continued. "Katie tried to walk away and Noe grabbed the back of her dress, and since it was strapless, it pulled down around her waist and what musta been a whole box of Kleenex flew out of her bra!"

  By that point, I was laughing with her. The memory of her standing there trying to pull up her dress and stuff all the Kleenex back in at the same time still cracked me up, at least until I thought of Rae; then I got mad all over again. I'd gotten a good groin shot in on Billy too when he tried to pull us away, so bonus.

  Rae's loyal to the bone and would have done the same for me, but she'd always been horrible at standing up for herself. Still was, though she'd gotten a little better.

  "Anyway," she finished, "the dingbat working for Bobbie Sue is her little sister."

  I shook my head. "If that don't beat all. It explains everything though. Does Bobbi Sue know?"

  "Probably not. They have different daddies so her last name's different. It was good talkin' to y'all." She started to get up, then turned back to Hunter. "Do you by any chance know if Louise Wheeler—well, I guess it's Turner, now—is comin' to town for the funeral? I'd love to get with her while she's here. I can't imagine that she'd miss it. She's probably hating herself right now."

  Hunter tilted his head sideways. "Who's that?"

  Jeanie shot him an odd look. "Uh, Max and Emily's daughter?"

  "Oh." He looked flummoxed. "Nobody's mentioned a daughter. Just the sons."

  He looked at me but I just shrugged. All those kids were way older than me, and I only met Max when he came to discuss the pool with me.

  "Nope," she said. "There's Scott, his son. Then Louise, who's two years younger than Scott. She hasn't spoken to them in a year or two—since she eloped to Vegas. Lots of bad blood there
between her husband and her daddy, poor thing." She shook her head, looking sad.

  "Oh, and Max and Emily also raised her sister's boy, who's worthless as tits on a bull. He's always chasin' that next get-rich-quick scheme and always failing."

  “Yeah, I saw him over at Fancy’s yesterday. He looked destroyed.”

  “I bet he does. He and Max were always close. More than that, though, Max was his gravy train. Emily cut the purse strings a couple years ago, but Max still slipped him some cash every now and again from what I understand.”

  A family of five walked to the front door and she slid out of the booth.

  "See y'all later," she said as she headed to the kitchen. "Lunch is on me."

  "Thanks, Jeanie," I called, but she was already through the bat-wings.

  I looked at Hunter. "News to you?"

  He wasn't looking too happy. "Yeah. News to me. Again. When I asked her about her kids, she only mentioned Scott and Darren, and none of the details we just got about him."

  I shrugged. "I wouldn't read too much into it. She was probably just so in shock that she wasn't thinkin'. And family dirt is family dirt. It’s not for public consumption."

  "Maybe so, but they’re loose ends, or at least the daughter is. I didn’t even know about her."

  "Seems to me like you got a lot of those." I tried to keep my tone neutral.

  He heaved a sigh. "I guess I do."

  Chapter Sixteen

  The heat smacked us in the face like a wall of fire when we walked out of the diner. He walked me to my car and gasped when he pulled my door open for me and felt the remnants of the cool air I'd sealed inside the truck earlier.

  "No fair! My truck's gonna be hotter than the seventh circle of hell and yours is practically refrigerated."

  I rolled my eyes. "Follow me, Sheriff. I'm always glad to help a public whiner."

  He gave me a little shove on my shoulder as we walked. "Keep sassing me like that, young lady. Go ahead. Now I know your aunt's still around and I'll rat you out for being mean to me. I think she likes me."

  I cocked an eyebrow at him as I laid my hand on his truck. "Really? You realize I can make this smell like bean farts just as easy as I can make it cool, right? Or for that matter, I can do both."

  He held his hands up, laughing. "Peace." I smiled, smug, then pulled his truck door open and sent a blast of cool through it.

  "All I did is cool it down right now, so turn on your AC as soon as you get in." I stood on my tippy toes and gave him a quick kiss then rushed back to my truck before it got hot.

  By the time I got to Brew, lunch rush was in full swing so I jumped in and helped them out. Angel, a teenager who worked there a couple days a week, was there, but the place was a madhouse.

  I took one look at the pastry case and groaned. It was nearly empty again. I filled it back up with the fresh ones, then jumped behind the line to make coffees.

  When I reached for the jar of energy blend to make a Peppermint Loco-Mocha and found it almost empty, I opened the cabinet underneath to get another bag and was surprised to find there was only one left.

  There were usually four or five bags under there because she did most of her blending on Mondays when it was slower and she could take the afternoon off. Shrugging, I filled the canister. With all the early morning fishing, I supposed it made sense that people would need more of a boost.

  Things finally settled down around one o'clock so I made myself a triple latte and took a seat at one of the window tables. I hadn't paid much attention from the back side of the counter because I'd mostly been making coffees, but the pastry case was almost empty again.

  Part of me was happy because Rae insisted I keep the sales from them, but another part was sick of baking and wanted a couple of days off. What I'd baked the night before should have been enough for three days. It seemed like it was either feast or famine.

  I took a few sips and watched the street, thinking about everything and nothing at all. It was usually sleepy, but when we had events like the tournament, the streets were bustling. It was nice seeing different faces. A disturbance caught my attention—a well-dressed man was helping a kid to his feet. My eyes narrowed when I recognized the same kid that had swiped my wallet.

  Before I could think beyond just watching him work his con, he was around the corner and out of sight. There was no way I'd catch him now, but at least I knew it wasn't a one-time fluke. That meant I had a chance to catch him and get some payback.

  Rae disrupted my thoughts when she slid into the chair across from me with a cup of coffee and a couple of peach turnovers.

  "Phew. Stick a fork in me 'cause I'm done, sister," she said as she kicked off her ballet flats and curled her toes. "These last few mornings have worn me plumb out. I love the money, but I'm ready for a couple of days off."

  She looked in the direction I was staring. "Whatcha lookin' at?"

  I told her, and she shook her head. "We didn't used to have stuff like that. I hate to think Atlanta's finally reachin' us."

  I puckered my lips, thinking. "I don't think it's that. He's a country kid. When he knocked into me, his accent definitely wasn't from the city. I just can't figure what's up with him."

  "You can't save the world, sugar."

  "I know. But I can put a boot in the pants of the brat who stole my wallet. Doesn't matter to me whether he's a city brat or a country brat."

  She laughed. "True that. Well since I still haven't seen him, I can't even keep an eye out for him. But point if you see him. That is, after you hog-tie him."

  The thought of the kid trussed up with an apple in his mouth made me laugh.

  She'd slid a fresh coffee and a peach turnover in front of me. "I still have—" I swirled my cup and was surprised to find it almost empty.

  "You been sittin' there for almost a half-hour. I've already finished cleaning up and sent Angel home while you were daydreaming. If you didn't finish a coffee in that time, I'd check your pulse. I did back that down from espresso to regular old blueberry coffee with a pinch of "

  I finished the last swig of my latte and set the empty cup aside, noting that we were the only people in the shop. "Thanks. Sometimes it's nice having a mind-reading best friend."

  "Oh no! That would be you. I just happen to know you." She touched my hand to get me to look at her. "It doesn't take mind-reading to see that you have something on your mind."

  I heaved a sigh. "I do. Hunter's leaning toward Joe but it just doesn’t feel right." I stirred my coffee, thinking. "Addy, Bobbie Sue, and everybody else says it couldn't have been him. All three of them have mad-accurate bullshit meters, but what if they're wrong? I mean, like Alyse said, it almost has to be one of us, right? And she and Skeet both say he has a wicked temper."

  Rae shook her head and chased a bite of turnover with coffee. "Any other time, I'd say she was right that it had to be one of us, but we do have a lot of strangers in town this week."

  I shook my head and took a sip of my fresh coffee. "No. This wasn't some stranger, I don't think. Looked to me like a crime of passion, so to speak. I think whoever done it was there for another reason and things went sideways."

  "What makes you think that?"

  "Well, for one, who says, Hmm. That Max really pissed me off. I'm gonna go out to his place and bash his head in with a toilet tank lid?” I shook my head. “They'd take weapon."

  She almost spit her coffee out laughing. "You ain't right. But in this case, you're not wrong, either. That's a good point."

  "Yeah, but still. There are other people in the running, too."

  She nodded. "There are. Who's at the top of your list?"

  Before I could answer, Max popped in. "You check my office safe yet?" he barked.

  "Well hello to you too. How are you this fine day?"

  "Dead as a hammer. And I don't see anybody doing jack about it, either." He turned to Raeann and motioned to me with his thumb. "Has she done a single thing to find who killed me or has she just sat on her laurels a
nd sipped fancy coffee?"

  "Hey!" Rae said. "That's not nice. You should be glad you've got her. She's slam busy and still worried about helping you, you ungrateful old goat. In fact, we were just talkin' about it."

  "Jawin' don't get the work done." He softened a little though, grumbling, "It just seems this ain't movin' none too fast and Em ain't gonna be able to move on without some closure. That's why it's so important you look in my safe."

  "Why are you being so cryptic? Why can't you just tell me what's in there?"

  He blew out an unnecessary breath and drew his eyebrows together. "I wish I could, but I can't remember. All I know is that there's somethin' important in there you need to see." He shook his head as if to clear it and he flickered. "Is it always like this? So fuzzy?"

  "No," I told him. "And I'm trying to figure out why, but nobody's run across it before. I'm sorry."

  "Well, sorry don't make it any better. Just check that dad-gummed safe, would ya?"

  I nodded. "Okay, but are you sure it wasn't Joe?"

  His face turned red. "I said to leave Joe outta this. He ain't got nothin' to do with it. You're way off base." He paused, tilting his head to the side. "Base. Why does that ring a bell?"

  I wanted to get as much as I could before he could blink out on me again. "What about Larry Huffman? We heard his nose was outta joint because you had a take your money and run mentality at the games, and from all accounts, you took a lot of his."

  He scratched his whiskers and even though he was incorporeal, I would have sworn I heard it. "It's possible he done it, I reckon. He came to me a coupla days before it happened, cussin' me til a fly wouldn't light on me. I let him run outta steam and you coulda knocked me over with a feather when he asked me for a loan."

  I didn't see that one coming, though I probably should have, considering Larry's situation. "What did you tell him? Did you give it to him?"

  He shook his head, making those caterpillar eyebrows wave. "Nope. My pappy always said Neither a borrower nor a lender be, and that served me well my entire life. Onliest thing I ever borrowed money for was the land the house is on. I did offer him a job, though."