Freezer Burn: A Maggie Mercer Mystery

by Jill Behe

  We’d just gotten settled around Wyatt’s table when the phone on my desk started to ring.

  I scrambled. “Mossy Creek Police Department.”

  “Miss Maggie, this is Marshall Mason. I’m on my route, but Miz McIntyre patched me through. Somebody’s cell phone’s out here on the side of the road. I know it probably isn’t worth your time, but then I thought, you know, somebody might be missing it, and it could be important. Do you want me to bring it in, or should I leave it for the chief?”

  “Probably best to leave it, Brick … um, sorry, Marshall.”

  “Brick’s good.” He gave a chuckle, sounding self-conscious. “Used to be just the guys at school, but now everybody’s been calling me that. I’m getting used to it.”

  “All right.” Awkward. “I’ll let the chief know. Tell me exactly where you are.”

  “Out near Grover’s Bridge, east side of Foggy Bottom Road, just this side of the Bear Creek Swamp access road. Want me to wait?”

  “If you could. Won’t take ’em long to get there.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Wyatt!”

  Both men responded, on the run.

  “Brick just called. There’s a cell phone on the side of the road. He’s waiting.”

  Wyatt stared for just a minute, but Rick went for his hat and coat.

  Had I been wrong? “What?”

  “A cell phone? Why didn’t you have him bring it in?”

  “I could have.” I cocked a hip. “But what if it’s Sybil’s? What if she’s lying out there in a snow bank?”

  He heaved a sigh. “I bow to your superior deductive reasoning.”

  Geez. Talk about patronizing.

  I handed him the directions.

  He kissed my forehead and went out the door.

  I frowned after him.

  My forehead? Really?

  Not 10-minutes later, I heard the door open and close.

  “Hey, Maggie.”

  “Annetta. What brings you here?”

  “Just saw our two fine policemen whiz by, lights flashing. Thought it might be a good time to take a break.”

  “Glad you did. What’s on your mind?” Although I had a pretty good idea of the subject matter.

  “Remember I mentioned the other night there was something fishy going on?”

  “I do, yes. You said it wasn’t time. Guess you’re ready now?”

  “Yep. Maybe past time. I hope I didn’t mull on it too long. You don’t think the chief will be upset I talked to you about it, instead of him?”

  Well now, how about that? “Nope. I don’t think he’d mind, at all.”

  HAH!

  “Okay, then.”

  Flipping to a clean sheet in my steno, I picked up a pen. “Come on over here and rest your tailbone.”

  “Can’t spare but a few minutes.” She unbuttoned her coat. “Need to get back.”

  “Of course. What’s got you in a tizzy?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Isn’t it always? Just start letting it out, we’ll work on un-complicating it.”

  “Okay.” She sat. “I don’t know if you remember me telling you I was a grandmother, the day Blake was born?”

  I thought back, and shook my head. “I’m sure you did, but….”

  She nodded. “You had a lot on your plate at that time. I’m not sure if Bernie had died yet, but if not, he was pretty close to it.”

  The reminder made me blink. “He died March 10th, 1999.”

  Working off her gloves, she continued, “Blake was born two days later. So you probably don’t remember. You were dealing with the funeral, and grief, and who knows what else.”

  “What’s that got to do with—?”

  She held up a hand. “I’m doing this round-about-ly, so you have some history.”

  “All right.”

  “Well, Wally wasn’t married to the baby’s mother—and what a blessing that became. Seems the only good thing she ever did was give us little Blake. My Wally always said he knew she was trouble the minute he met her, but couldn’t stay away. Sorry, that’s beside the point.” Leather gloves slapped her thigh. “Anyway, once she had the baby, she got worse. Out drinking and what-all, almost every night. Left him home with a newborn, which he didn’t really mind, at first. He loved his son, but he got tired of not getting any help. He made mention of it to her a few times, and she started making noises about keeping the baby away from him. He went to a lawyer, for custody. Judge agreed.”

  Annetta shifted in the chair. It was obviously a touchy subject.

  “Since the two of them lived relatively close, they did a decent job of sharing the boy. Reason he moved back here five years ago was, she got arrested for solicitation, and drunk and disorderly. When they booked her, she was high on something, and still had some of whatever it was in her bag.”

  “Huh.”

  “Wally went back to the lawyer and had them take away her visitation, and got it legal that he could take Blake out of the state.”

  “That was smart.”

  “It was, indeed. But the nearer it came for her to be released, the more crap she started feeding her brothers about Wally. He’s been getting some nasty e-mails from one of them. They’re all halves, by the way.”

  “Halves?”

  “All four of those kids have different dads.”

  “Now that’s a real shame.”

  “Yes, it is. Anyway, my Wally’s being accused of not paying alimony, or child support. They’re calling him a dead-beat dad, and a poor excuse for a human being, for starters. I’m not about to repeat some of the vile things they wrote. The worst thing is, she told them Wally not only stole Blake, but he won’t let her see him. They want the boy back.”

  “Back?” Oh crud. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Well, Annetta, I’m no expert, but she can’t claim any right to alimony if they were never married.”

  “Oh, I know that.”

  “Second, if he has full custody, she can’t claim child support, either. In all actuality, she should be paying him.”

  “Yup. Know that, too.”

  “Okay. Then what’s the rest of it?”

  “I have a bad feeling.”

  “Your feelings are usually right. What is it?”

  CHAPTER 28

  REVELATION OR SPECULATION?

  “I’M THINKING they’re planning to kidnap Blake.”

  I was afraid of that. “Why now?”

  She shook her head. “Just a creepy-crawly feeling up my neck, like we’re being watched.”

  Hmm. I had that same feeling, but for a different reason.

  “When that girl disappeared, I started getting— Let’s just say, the feeling got stronger.”

  My eyes narrowed as my thought patterns skidded around a sharp corner. “Does Wally have any pictures of these guys?”

  “I’m not sure. You’d think they would have taken pictures of the baby with his mother and uncles, wouldn’t you? I haven’t talked to my boy about my … about this. He doesn’t know I’m here. Well, he knows I’m here, but not why.”

  “Might be prudent to tell him. Especially about what you suspect.”

  “You’re right. We’ve talked about why he moved back, of course, and the e-mails he’s been getting. And no, I’ve never actually read them myself. But that’s about the extent of it. If he has pictures, he hasn’t shown them to me.”

  “Is this girl still in jail?”

  Annetta shook her head. “Got out three weeks ago.”

  My brain was working on a couple scenarios. One was sticking out in all CAPS, BOLDED and ITALICIZED.

  But that would be way too easy.

  Don’t you agree?

  “All right, Annetta, I’ll brief the chief. If you can get anything more out of Wally, possibly a picture, maybe some names to confirm some things, that would be a big help. ”

  “I’ll do my best. You know, there’s something to be said for unloading out l
oud. I feel better already. I’m keeping a closer watch on Blake, too. You can never be too careful when there’s an unknown quantity involved.”

  “That’s very true. You keep me posted, lady.”

  “Oh, yeah. Most definitely.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Say.” She pulled on her gloves. “You and that handsome man you’re with set a date yet?”

  (Sigh)

  “Nope. Not yet.”

  “Ya know, folks are bettin’ you won’t … ever.”

  “Folks need to mind their own business. Let ’em speculate all they want.”

  “Atta girl.” She grinned and stood. “Thanks for listening.”

  “Sure. You be careful on your way back. Those sidewalks don’t get much sun.”

  “I’ll be careful, Mom.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  Annetta laughed and went out.

  I sat re-reading my notes.

  Three brothers and a sister. How interesting was that?

  But—

  Nah. Couldn’t be.

  Could it?

  Could it really be that easy?

  If my theory was correct, the who, where, and what were almost tied up with Christmas ribbon.

  Just wait a minute now. Don’t get knots in your hose. Okay, so maybe not the what, but definitely the who and the where.

  If.

  And was the alleged kidnapping of Sybil just a ruse to throw us off? To distract us from when the real kidnaping took place? Were they going to try to take Blake right from under our noses?

  No.

  Surely not.

  No one would be that idiotic.

  Would they?

  I clicked on my PC, and the phone rang.

  My heart jittered.

  I hesitated until the third ring. “Mossy Creek Police Department. This is Maggie. How may I help you?”

  “Hiya, Maggie. This is Gladys Townsend. Somebody bashed my mailbox all to bits, and I want to know what’s going to be done about it.”

  I was relieved it wasn’t my anonymous caller, but groaned silently at the subject matter. “I’ll note it in the log, Miz Townsend, and let the chief know.”

  “He better catch that little SOB—and soon—or you’re gonna have a revolt on your hands.”

  “I know it.”

  She wasn’t done. “This is the fourth mailbox I’ve had to replace in the last year. I’m on a fixed income. I can’t keep shelling out 20-bucks every time some lamebrain wants some jollies.”

  “I know that. I’m very sorry, Miz Townsend. I’ll make sure Chief Madison is apprised of the situation.”

  “Appreciate that, Maggie.” There was a small pause. “Please pardon my spew.”

  I chuckled. “That’s quite all right.”

  “Say hey to that cutie, Officer Anderson, for me, will ya?”

  I let out an overdramatic gasp. “For shame, Miz Townsend. For shame.”

  She tittered. “Oh, I know. I’m old enough to be his great-granny, but he’s just so darned handsome in his uniform.”

  I agreed. Men in uniform bubble my skin; my man in particular. “Downright spiffy, he is.”

  “Yup. That, too. Well, I’ll let you get back to business. Thanks for letting me bend your ear.”

  “Anytime. Promise you won’t go getting a bee up … er, well, you know, and try to catch this character all on your own.”

  “Oh, no. You don’t have to worry none about that. It’s too cold to go out scrounging for clues.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.”

  “HAH! See ya later, Maggie.”

  “Take care, Miz Townsend.”

  As I replaced the receiver, the front door banged open, then was shut with care.

  BJ Knowles cruised up to my desk. Jerky. Agitated. “Hey, Miz Mercer.”

  “BJ. How can I help you?”

  “I’d like to report a … vandalism.”

  Good grief. “Bet I can guess what it’s about.”

  “Think so?”

  “Unfortunately.” I flipped to a clean sheet in my steno and clicked my pen. “Well, tell me, anyway.”

  “Somebody hit my grandpa’s mailbox. Sent it right up the sidewalk, almost to the porch. Not much left of it but the front flap.”

  I nodded. “I was afraid you were gonna say that. I’ve been getting complaints all week, and some today already. What’s with this guy, anyway? Taking out people’s mailboxes. Downright orneriness, if you ask me. Gee whiz, BJ.”

  “Um, yeah. It’s downright nasty. Almost seems like whoever it is, is especially pickin’ on the older folks, too. But I could be wrong.”

  “Is that what it looks like to you?”

  He shrugged. “Could be.”

  “I thought the mailbox baseball bandit was done and gone last summer.”

  “Me, too.” He stopped fidgeting. “And yeah, ya know, it kinda does look like someone was practicing his swing with a baseball bat.”

  “I have a feeling this isn’t going to be the last report for today.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t doubt you’re right. I know for a fact that five out of the eight houses on our road are missing their boxes, although they could’ve called already. Noticed ’em on m’ way in. Don’t know how Lemonade Lehman’s gonna make her deliveries.”

  Holy Hannah. The guy must have gone on a rampage last night. “What in blue blazes is going on in this town? And why this sudden renewed rash of bashing mailboxes? Smack dab in the middle of winter, too. Is he warming up for spring training?” I looked at the kid. He was staring at me with a scared I-haven’t-got-a-clue-what-you’re-talking-about face. I waved away his unease. “Sorry. Venting. Disregard.”

  He nodded, but still seemed wary. “Okay. Sure. So what do I need to do to make it official?”

  “You just did. I’ll add it to my report for the chief.”

  “Great. Well, I’d best get back.”

  “You take care. Tell your grandpa I said hello, and we’ll do our best to catch this lunatic.”

  “Will do.”

  He gave a mock salute and left.

  I logged in 10 calls from citizens reporting their mailboxes missing or mutilated, and that was before lunch.

  Somebody was awful pissed about something.

  I was pretty sure it wasn’t our visitors from Ohio. This had been going on for longer than they’d been here. And just between you and me, they didn’t seem athletic enough to pull it off.

  Just after lunch, the guys got called out to a disturbance at Cletus’s house. Unusual, to say the least. Nothing much ever happened out that way, and it wasn’t that his mailbox was missing or anything. If that were the case, he would’ve mentioned it when he called in.

  During the lull, I decided it was time to invite my parents to supper Friday night.

  Okay, I did almost forget, so just chill.

  My mother answered before the phone even rang once. “Magdalena? What’s wrong?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “You just don’t call in the middle of the afternoon unless….”

  The sentence dangled.

  I knew to what she was referring. Bernie, my late husband, had died at 3:09 in the afternoon, and I had called her at 3:20.

  Second time today my Bernie had been brought to mind.

  “Wyatt and I—”

  “Hallelujah! You set a date!”

  I cleared my throat.

  “Oh. Sorry, darling.”

  “We’d like to invite you and dad to the house for supper Friday night.”

  “That’s wonderful, dear, but….”

  CHAPTER 29

  CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?

  THERE WAS A LONG PAUSE.

  “But?”

  “Um.” A sigh. “Well, Seamus and Hyacinth asked us over to play cards Friday night. Of all the times—”

  “No, no, no.” Whaddaya know about that? Wyatt’d been right. “It’s fine. Let me think a second.” A gut feeling told me Thursday night wasn’t going to work
. That left two options for this week, and I didn’t think Wyatt wanted to wait until next week. “What about Saturday?”

  “That won’t do, either. Dad and I are going up to The Chute for opening day. By the time we get back, we’ll be pretty pooped. Tomorrow night your dad’s taking me to dinner, so that night’s out, too. I’m so sorry, dear.”

  Holy cow. My parents did have a life. Well, of course they did, but…. Geez! “Um. Do you have plans for tonight?”

  “Not that I know of. Sure you don’t want to wait ’til next week?”

  “At this point, and since I can’t ask Wyatt if he’ll be tied up, I’d have to say yes.”

  “All right, well, your father hasn’t mentioned anything to me. Would you like me to bring dessert?”

  “No, no. Just you and dad.”

  Having to improvise once was a bit aggravating, but this was unnerving. Wyatt was just going to have to be flexible about shuffling things around. I hoped whatever he was planning could make the switch, too. He’d said it didn’t matter when.

  “Okay, sweetie, if you’re sure. We’ll see you then. Oh, what time?”

  “Uh.” Shoot! “Six-ish?”

  “That’s fine. We’ll be there. Bye now.”

  My bye was distracted. She hadn’t sounded very enthusiastic. I replaced the receiver and made a note to stop at Corsair’s on the way home.

  Wyatt and Ricky came in laughing.

  Two of my favorite men, not related to me, getting along like they’d been best friends since childhood, or as close as brothers, even though they were a generation apart, age-wise.

  That brought to mind Jonas Talbot’s visit yesterday, though, and what the council was planning for our future. A necessary step, of course, now that I’d had time to process everything and let my mind gnaw on it a while.

  Still, there was trepidation.

  Would we all get along? Good possibility. Would we and the new hires be as close as the three of us? Probably not, but it’d be good.

  The newbies wouldn’t be local, probably. And that was another question mark.

  Only time would tell.

  “Maggie, you’ll never guess.”

  Intrigued, I gave Ricky my full attention. “Tell me.”

  Grinning like an idiot, he leaned against my desk. “Redbone’s gonna be a daddy.”