Freezer Burn: A Maggie Mercer Mystery

by Jill Behe

  Blake Russell, clearly the leader, was the son of Wally, grandson of Annetta. A whip-thin tow-headed bundle of energy, with bright brown eyes that saw everything. Lucas (Luke), the Reverend Blanchard’s son, had hair and eyes a soft brown that he got from his (late) mom. At this point in his young life, his body was on the chunky side, but I was sure he’d stretch when he started to sprout, like his big brother Eddy. Mild-mannered, mostly, but I’d seen him riled. He’d do well as he got older.

  Then there was Joshua Jones, Ed and Dandy’s only begotten. The skinny tornado of a kid was a blue-eyed redhead. He gets teased for the freckles that cover him—from head to toe so his mother tells me—but laughs it off. Knobby-kneed and gangly, he rivals Blake in expending energy.

  “What can I do for you boys?”

  “Afternoon, Miz Mercer.” Luke, breathless and grinning, cheeks wind-burned, came up to the desk, his compadres right behind.

  “We’re just—”

  “Josh’s mom sent us for some stuff out t’ Corsair’s.”

  Hmm.

  School was out for the day, and most afternoons the threesome was known to frequent the Inn at the End. Dandelion Jones was one of the most patient of people, but since it was heading towards the supper hour, the boys’d probably been getting on her nerves.

  Thus, the errands.

  “We just decided to stop in and say hi, since we were on our way back, and had to come past here, anyways. We don’t get to see you much in the winter.”

  Nope. Uh uh. No way. These three never decided to ‘just stop in’ unless there was a specific purpose. There was something going on.

  The first time they’d visited us was back in early September, the summer before last. They’d slammed into the office, all talking at once, out of breath, and excitedly terrified. An after school fishing trip had been interrupted when they’d discovered a slew of dead fish and frogs, all along the bank of the creek that ran off from Miller’s Pond. The scarier part was that Luther Hornsby (son of the late ‘Old man’ Hornsby—God rest his miserably cranky soul) had run them off with threats of bodily harm if they told what they’d seen, or if they ever came back.

  You know, sometimes I think Luther is more miserably cranky than his father ever thought of being.

  The pond was a popular fishing spot, and the boys were concerned about why everything was dead. Wyatt was curious about that, too, among other things, and launched a joint-task force to investigate. The county and state law enforcement went out to the pond to inspect and speculate. The FBI showed up too, eventually, and wanted to take over the case. No comment.

  The boy’s involvement in that incident was one of the reasons why I didn’t believe they were here by accident. But I’d play along, to see where the conversation steered itself. “Well that’s just fine, Blake. Always glad to see you boys.”

  Josh grinned and elbowed his buddies. “Told ya.”

  “So, what’s going on?”

  “Nuthin’ much.”

  Three pairs of feet shuffled—synchronized as though rehearsed—with nervous energy.

  “Y’all aren’t here to kill time because you’ve got homework to do once you get back, are you?”

  “Uh.” Josh stalled, leaning on my desk and poking through my array of colored paperclips.

  “No, ma’am.” Luke, hands in his pockets, shook his head, watching Josh. “I don’t have any tonight.”

  “Mine’s done.” Blake leaned a slim hip against my desk. “Dad won’t let me leave the house unless it’s all finished.”

  “Good for him. How about you, Josh?”

  “Did my math.” The boy straightened and shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “Mom’s supposed to give me a practice spelling test, but she was swamped. That’s why we got to run errands. We’ll do the spelling before bed.”

  “It’s his dad’s birthday. They’re planning a surprise for when he gets home from work. Miss D was putting icing on the cake before. Her cakes are the best.”

  I had to agree with him there. “That’s nice you’re doing something special for your dad, Josh. Does he like surprises?” Ed Jones didn’t seem the type. Dandelion hadn’t mentioned anything about it when I was there today. But then, why would she? We’d had other things to discuss, and there’d been a lot going on.

  Josh laughed. “Are you kidding? He won’t like it, but he’ll pretend to for her.”

  Hmm. Love does allow a certain tolerance when family is involved, and in this case, as mentioned before, Ed would do just about anything for Dandy. Apparently, that included pretending to enjoy her fuss over his birthday.

  “Grown-up birthdays are different than kid birthdays, though. Mom’s always like, You’d better not plan anything, and shakes her finger at dad and me.” He hooted. “But we do it, anyway. She gets all blustery, but then she’s cryin’ and huggin’ on us. That’s cool. But mine takes freakin’ for-ever to get here.”

  “Enjoy it while you can, Josh. There will come a time when you start wishing they’d stop, or go in reverse.”

  That was so true, I could cry. My birthday, later this year, would put me about halfway through my fourth decade.

  Holy crap!

  Just you hush. Yours is just around the corner, isn’t it?

  Wyatt’s a couple years further along, but he’s a guy. They don’t look at aging with the same eyes as we females.

  “Yeah. My dad says that, too, Miz Mercer.” Blake glanced at the clock and pulled his mittens out of his coat pockets. “We better get moving. It’s getting dark and you know how Luke gets spooked without a light.”

  The kid’s head whipped around. “I do not.”

  Josh was laughing. “Right behind you, dude.”

  Luke swiped at his buds as they rushed past. “I don’t!”

  Coats zipped, hats donned, and mittens applied, they trooped to the door.

  Luke paused long enough to wave and say, “Bye, Miz Mercer,” before following the other two.

  Felt kinda sorry for the kid. I could understand his irritation. “Make sure to shut that door real tight, boys. And be careful.”

  “We will. Bye.”

  My mouth was puckered as they filed out. Yup. There was something going on all right.

  I went to the window, watching them jostle each other down the sidewalk. They put on a good show, but they were worried.

  Really worried, and maybe a little scared.

  I hurried to answer the phone.

  “Mossy Creek Police Department. Maggie Mercer speaking. How may I help you?”

  Silence.

  “Hello-hello? Anybody there? I can’t hear you.”

  CHAPTER 15

  HEEBIE-JEEBIES

  LOW CHILLING LAUGHTER came across the line first. “You need to stop, you. You need to stop right now, Miss Donovan, or pay the consequences. You won’t like the consequences.”

  There was a click, then dead air.

  “Wait! What?”

  Stunned, I sat, hard.

  The silent noise in my head was full of indiscernible words, phrases … mostly baffling half-formed questions, all bouncing around in the fog bank.

  After a few deep breaths, and a conscious effort to calm down, a few of the more pressing thoughts came out of my mouth. “Donovan? I haven’t been a Donovan since— Consequences for what?”

  Lord, have mercy!

  What—?

  The phone receiver began to beep. I set it back in its cradle.

  My heart was racing, but everything else was in slow-mo, especially my brain.

  In crept paranoia.

  The skin on the back of my neck was tingling.

  Nervous, and blinking as if waking from a bad dream, my eyes circled the room, open wide like trying to see in the dark, and landed on the big clock.

  My jaw dropped.

  Holy time-warp!

  A whole half hour had passed.

  How was that possible?

  Had I fallen asleep?

  No. No. I was awake, and this w
as real.

  Wasn’t it?

  The sun had gone down.

  I was sitting in the dark.

  Alone.

  Felt like someone was sitting on my chest, and squeezing.

  Was I hyperventilating?

  He was watching me. How else would he have known not to call while the boys were here? Maybe he didn’t know they had been.

  Of course he did.

  What did I need to stop doing? If it meant asking questions about Sybil, then it would seem that Bruce’s fears weren’t just a gut feeling.

  Right?

  That makes no sense. It couldn’t have anything to do with that girl’s disappearance, I hadn’t even gotten started yet.

  But what else could it be?

  And what’s with using my maiden name?

  No way could this be about Sybil, or the guy from Cleveland.

  Holy horror movies, Batman!

  On a deep breath, I crossed the room on shaky legs, and turned on the overheads.

  Crud.

  Stupid idea.

  Yes, I closed the blinds, but still….

  If he’s out there—and I’m sure he is—I may not be able to see him, but he’s there … watching, waiting.

  At my desk, I sat, scared out of my mind, trembling, and trying not to hyperventilate. “Hurry home, Wyatt.” It was a prayer. “Please, hurry.”

  Ten minutes later, there was a thunk, then another, heavy boot steps, and a muttered curse from out front.

  Dear God.

  Panic mode.

  My heart rate accelerated triple time.

  The door crashed open and hit the wall.

  I screamed!

  CHAPTER 16

  A WARM SHIRT

  “HOLY SHIT! Maggie, I’m so sorry. The wind took it right out of my hand.” Rick strode into the room, Wyatt right behind.

  They’re back!

  I ran to my man, flinging my arms around his neck as he tried to close the door. “I’m so so SO glad to see you.”

  His strong arms tightened around me and some of my scared eased away.

  “I wasn’t gone that long, sweetheart, but if this is how you’re going to greet me every time, I’ll be gone more often.”

  “Seriously not funny.” I held on. “It was a really lousy busy day. And I think everything’s connected, but maybe not. I just need you to hold me a little bit longer, please? I’m sorry, Ricky.” I grabbed hold of the kid’s coat front as he started to move. “Don’t go anywhere, just yet. Got a message for you.”

  “Um, okay.” His grin was lopsided. “I, uh, I could, help with the hug, if you want.”

  I looked at Wyatt.

  Rather than ask questions—knowing me well enough to know I’d tell him in due time—he smiled and held out his arm.

  Ricky snugged in, his arm around my waist, and we all stood there.

  It really did help. A lot.

  “Thanks so much, guys. You have no idea how much I needed this.”

  “You sound spooked. Gonna fill us in?”

  Trying for normal, “I want to, but you must be asleep on your feet.”

  “We’re men. We can—”

  “Stop. Just stop.” I was shaky, but laughed, thinking of my conversation with Lancy, and took half a step out of the cozy circle. “First.” I poked Ricky. “Lancy left you three messages on your phone, but said to tell you, the supper with her parents is postponed, and she’ll explain why when she sees you on Friday.”

  “Huh.” He frowned and opened his cellular. “You’re right. She did.” He stuck it in his pocket. “Shoot, I forgot. We were supposed to have dinner with her parents tonight, but Lance got tagged at the last minute for this idiotic conference because the teacher who was supposed to go got sick.” He rolled his neck. “Shee-it. Is she dense? I don’t have to wait all the way ’til Friday to talk to her. She better call me once she’s in Daytona.”

  “I’m sure she will.” I wrinkled my nose. “You could call her, and leave a message, so she hears your voice as soon as she lands.” I smacked his arm. “Be romantic for a change, why don’t you?”

  Sheepish, he walked over to his desk, phone to his ear.

  I looked from one to the other. The exhaustion was evident.

  To tell, or not to tell.

  They needed to be apprised, but they were so tired.

  And probably famished.

  I had an idea, but waited until Ricky was finished with his call.

  “I think we should head over to Annetta’s for some of her beef stew and biscuits. Then I’ll tell you all about my day. How’s that sound?”

  Rick nodded. “Works for me, as I would have had to scrounge through my empty cupboards for a meal. Lancy’s plane should be on the ground by the time we get done.”

  “Sounds good to me, too. Get your coat, lady.”

  Heat was set back, lights turned off. Wyatt wrested the door shut and locked it, following us out.

  All the way down the sidewalk, I watched the shadows for any movement of things lurking in the dark.

  Wyatt pulled me close, and even slowed his usual gait so I could keep up without getting winded. Ricky crowded me nicely on the other side as we scrunched over the snowy sidewalks. Walking between these two tall, strong, warm, caring men … I’d never felt so safe.

  “You guys know there’s gonna be another foot of snow tonight?”

  “Aw, geez. Just what we need, more white stuff to shovel. It’ll mess up the lake, too.”

  “Maybe it’ll go around us.”

  “Wishful thinking, boss.”

  “Maybe, if we all wish the same wish—”

  “Maggie.”

  “Sorry.”

  Annetta’s was crowded, as usual, and so cozy warm the windows were foggy. The room buzzed with conversation and the clanking of plates and cutlery.

  The aromas were mouth-watering.

  We’d just settled into a booth towards the back when a smiling Evey Peters approached. “Hey, y’all. What can I get you started with?”

  “Hey, Evey. Sweet tea, please.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Make that three.”

  “All right, then. I’ll be back with your drinks, and to take your orders.”

  “Wait.”

  Half-turned, she froze.

  “I invited these two for beef stew and biscuits. So, three orders for that, with extra biscuits and lots of butter.”

  “And honey.”

  “Excellent choice, Miss Maggie, especially on a day like today. And I’ll make sure to bring a whole jar of honey, Chief.” She smiled, scribbling on her pad. “Comin’ right up.”

  Comfort food.

  Sitting back, I realized my guys weren’t the only ones who were tired. The events of the last10 hours had worn me out. Plus, I was paranoid—more that than scared, though scared played a huge part—so was, all in all, very happy to have company. Deciding to get it over with rather than procrastinate, I began the saga of my day.

  Wyatt stopped me after I told them about almost going over the railing at The Inn at the End. “You’re going to show me that bruise, right? If it’s bad, we’re going to get it X-rayed.”

  Here we go. “If it was bad, I’d’ve already done that.”

  But then, when I got to the bit about the phone call, he grabbed my hand. “No wonder you were so glad to see me … us. Did you recognize the voice?”

  I shook my head. “No. It was whispery … hissy, like he was slurring the sounds, elongating his words on purpose, but definitely male. I’m pretty sure. If all of this is interwoven, then the only one I would suspect is the guy from Cleveland. But I really don’t think it’s him. He wouldn’t know my maiden name.”

  Wyatt looked across the table. “I’ll call Filbert Mulligan in the morning and let him know we won’t be able to help out tomorrow.”

  Ricky nodded. “Roger that.”

  What? Wait a minute. “Oh, but—”

  Why was I protesting? I should be doing a happy dance.
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  “I’m not leaving you alone in that office tomorrow.”

  Yet, the need to protest. “Wyatt, I’m a big girl, I can—”

  “You’re a grown up, but you’re not a big girl. Besides, you’re my girl, and I want you safe.”

  And still I argued.

  It isn’t that I don’t appreciate his chivalry and concern, I mean, after all, isn’t that what every girl wants in a man, someone to take care of her? Realistically, those of us of the independent persuasion, don’t like to admit our weaknesses. Hate to ask for help. Now, I’m not afraid to say I’m scared about this situation, but there’s a logical and rational way to reassure me, and then there’s the Neanderthal method.

  Wyatt was leaning towards the latter, a little too far. Granted, he had a point, but it was not coming across the way he intended, and it was going to make me mad if he kept it up. “Aw, that’s so sweet, Wyatt.” I squinted. “I am not a helpless female.”

  “Look out.”

  I focused on the sidekick.

  Wisely, he held up his hands. “Okay, okay.”

  “Maggie,” Wyatt ran his finger up my arm. Sounded like he was going for placating, and I was fairly certain I wasn’t going to like it. “You should be safe inside the cop shop, not wondering if some pervert’s out there spying on you. Maybe you should stay home until we catch this guy.”

  CHAPTER 17

  OFFENSE-DEFENSE

  HE DID NOT JUST SAY that, did he? “Excuse me? Stay home? Until you catch … who? Do you have any idea as to how long that will take? I do have a job, remember?”

  My mouth pinched when I saw he was actually trying not to laugh. Male macho idiot.

  “What? That’s not acceptable? I could tie you up in the basement, if you can’t stay inside.”

  His attempt to amuse was a pancake on the ceiling.

  “And you have to sleep sometime. You might find yourself hog-tied to the bed.”

  Ricky snorted. “Sounds kinda kinky.”

  “Shut up, Rick.”

  “But fun.”

  “Shut up, Rick.”

  Biting my lip didn’t stop the grin, but Wyatt’s proprietary humor, at my expense, made me uncomfortable to the point of mad. “I am a grownup, Wyatt. I don’t need your permission.”