Freezer Burn: A Maggie Mercer Mystery

by Jill Behe

  No amount of book-learning, or slaving over a hot stove, can make you a great cook. You need a natural inborn talent, and Wally’s got that, and more.

  Last evening, while we ate, Annetta stopped by our table. She’d heard a rumor that I was sporting some new jewelry, and just had to check it out for herself. After the oohing and aahing and congratulating, she left to flit around the room greeting her other diners as she always did. But it wasn’t with her usual sassiness. The difference was subtle, but as a watcher of people and as her friend, I could tell our Miz Annetta Russell had a lot on her mind, and the worry was weighing heavy.

  Wyatt and Ricky were back out at the lake today, finalizing things for tomorrow’s opening day festivities. They planned on returning by two-thirty, three at the latest, so I wouldn’t be here alone after dark.

  Yes, you’re right, they were supposed to go over the abandoned car, but the county forensic investigator got caught in a traffic backup from a bad weather-related accident. He won’t get here until Monday, now.

  Sheesh.

  The weather had settled overnight, and it felt almost balmy at 40-degrees Fahrenheit.

  Coffee was dripping, the furnace kicking out a comfortable 68 in the office, and there were three reports from the county dispatcher to type up.

  Close to noon, the phone rang.

  Again, I hesitated.

  Then,

  “You can’t stop me from doing my job.” I smacked the desk, and picked up the receiver. “Mossy Creek Police Department. This is Maggie. How may I help you?”

  “Hello, Maggie. This is Pansy Nash.”

  Pansy Nash is the youngest of the Flowers sisters, and an elementary school teacher.

  A mental sigh of relief that it wasn’t the stalker. “Hello, Miz Nash. How’s Petunia? There was a pregnant pause. (Sorry, I couldn’t resist.)

  “She’s grounded.”

  I was grinning. “I’m sure that’s not what you called about.”

  “No, it isn’t. But as I’m sure you’re aware, Cletus found them, flagrante delicto.”

  It was hard, but I suppressed a giggle. “Um, yes.”

  “You may know this, as well. After a call from your office, and as a precaution, Cletus had Redbone tested. The results won’t be back for a week or so. He was going to pay for Petunia’s spaying, but it turns out she’s already…. It’s too late. We’re going to wait for the test results to see if the hound is a viable suspect. We won’t know for sure who she was playing with until she throws those pups.”

  “Very diplomatic.”

  I heard a deep sigh.

  “It’s my own fault, really. I knew there was a broken slat in the fence, but didn’t figure she could get through it. There’s nothing I can do about the puppies. The Vet suggested aborting them, but that just seemed so wrong, even for a dog.”

  “Oh, my. I didn’t realize that was an option. I’m glad you decided against it, though. Everybody loves puppies. And no matter how many she’s carrying, I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding someone to take them.”

  “Hope so.” She cleared her throat. “Enough about that. I should have done this yesterday, but Petunia had me so in a tizzy it slipped my mind.”

  “What is it?” I flipped to a clean sheet in my steno. “Fire away.”

  “As you know, I teach fourth graders. My first priority is to pay attention to every nuance of my students and their activities. That doesn’t mean I spy on them, but we teachers need to be aware of changes in their patterns, no matter how subtle.”

  “I’m sure their parents appreciate that very much.”

  “Some yes, some … not so much. Anyway, yesterday afternoon, that level of alert went up for me. Just after school let out, I overheard a conversation, and hopefully I’m not over-stepping boundaries by calling you first, but I feel someone else needs to know about this, even if it turns out to be nothing.”

  Sometimes she takes the long way around a point. It could be a genetic thing, as her sisters do the same thing. I wedged the phone between my shoulder and ear. Maybe I should talk to Wyatt about getting a headset. “Go ahead.”

  “Blake Russell, Lucas Blanchard, and Joshua Jones are students in my class.”

  “Yes, I know. What about them?”

  “All the other students were gone, but they were standing near the windows in our classroom, the ones that face the parking lot.

  “Josh said, ‘Hey, there’s that guy, again. Wonder why he’s hanging around.’ Luke said he couldn’t see the man, so Josh pointed him out. I eased behind them, so I could see who they were discussing. There was a youngish man on the other side of the street, watching the building. He was too far away to describe in detail, but he looked to be mid-20s, maybe? And wearing a wind-breaker, of all things. In this weather. Can you imagine?”

  Apparently he hadn’t gotten his box, yet. “You’d be surprised. What then?”

  “I don’t know if they were aware that I was still in the room, or if they didn’t care whether I overheard. It’s entirely possible they inadvertently wanted an adult to know what was going on, without actually asking for help.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past those three.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s about it. Blake did say he’d noticed another guy on the sidewalk across from the restaurant a couple days ago, too. From the gist of their conversation, I got the impression there might be more than one person watching them.

  “Since I was sort of trying not to be noticed, in case they clammed up, I didn’t ask how many times they’ve seen this guy at the school. Perhaps I should have.”

  “That’s all right. I’ll get the chief on this. Glad you’re paying attention.”

  “It helps that we know most of our students outside of school, but thank you. I’d never forgive myself if something ever happened. If I see someone shady out there again, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  “Appreciate that. Thanks for the information, Miz Nash.”

  “You’re most welcome, Maggie. Hope it helps.”

  “I’m sure it will.”

  There was another pause. “The grapevine tells me you’re wearing a good-looking sparkler. Congratulations.”

  “Um, yes I am. Thank you.”

  “So have you and the chief set a date yet?”

  I rolled my eyes, and almost groaned. “Nope. Not yet.”

  “Ah. Well. Take care.”

  My head was shaking. “You, too, Miz Nash. Bye.”

  I hung up. Well, there it was; Annetta’s theory, in all its glory. (Ahem)

  Were those men watching for an opportunity to snatch Blake? If so, they weren’t being very subtle about it. Still, Wyatt should be made aware of it, and Wally and Annetta. Possibly even Dandy and Ed, and Reverend Blanchard. We all needed to protect those boys, but especially Blake.

  At 12:30 I closed the office and went to lunch at Annetta’s.

  When the guys got back, just after 2:30, I let them know about Pansy’s call. “I know it’s ultimately your decision, but if it were me, I’d go talk to Annetta and Wally, and the parents of the other boys, just so they understand the seriousness. I’m sure Annetta and Wally are keeping tabs on Blake and his two cohorts, but it wouldn’t hurt to let the others know.”

  Wyatt nodded. “I agree.”

  “If he was my kid, I’d want to know if some potential pervert was watching him all the time.”

  “They aren’t perverts, Rick.”

  He shrugged. “You never know.”

  “True, but I don’t think that’s the case here. Does sound like a stakeout, though. They’re looking for a weakness in his routine so they can grab him without a lot of fuss, but I don’t think perversion is their motive.”

  “Good thing Luke and Josh are always with him.”

  “Absolutely.” Wyatt headed for his office. “I’ll give Annetta a call.”

  I’d just started typing up a traffic accident report when he came back out of his office. “Maggie?”

  Uh oh. “Yes
?”

  “Um.”

  I looked up. “What?”

  “Do you have anything going on next Friday night?”

  Hmm. Now what? “Not that I know of. Why?”

  “Ah. Great, well—”

  The front door banged open.

  “SURPRISE!”

  CHAPTER 35

  HURRICANE HARRIET

  WYATT’S FACE went from shock to resignation in the space of heartbeat. He turned to face the newcomers. “Mom. Dad. I wasn’t expecting you until next week.”

  I crossed my arms.

  Hmm.

  After supper with my parents the other night, he’d mentioned telling his about the engagement. He never said anything about them coming for a visit. Didn’t sound like he’d known it was going to be this soon. Must be why they yelled, ‘surprise.’

  I stood, though the desk was still sheltering me from, well, from whatever might happen.

  “Yes, I know, sweetheart,” his mother gushed, too brightly, embracing her dazed son, and completely ignoring me. “But we got a lucky break. When I called for tickets, they had a few seats left on a flight out this morning.”

  Wyatt’s dad cleared his throat.

  I bit my lips. Sounded like she’d done some conniving.

  Wyatt found his voice. “You could’ve called. I’d’ve come to the airport to get you.”

  “And spoil the surprise? Oh, dear, no. We couldn’t do that. Could we, my love?”

  Uh huh. Stunned, would be more like it.

  “Of course, dear.” Her husband looked skyward. “Whatever you say.”

  She smacked his arm lightly with the back of her hand, and tittered, too long and sharp.

  Was she drunk?

  Her husband puckered his lips, like he was deciding whether to make waves. Then nodded to Wyatt. “She made me bring her up here so she could talk you out of making another mistake.”

  “Warren!”

  My face got warm. It felt like I’d been slapped. I should be angry. Shouldn’t I? Righteously indignant, at the very least. Honestly, I was still astounded that they were standing in front of us, but, yeah, my temper began to simmer.

  Imagine that.

  Wyatt’s dad held up a hand. “I told her you were smarter than that but, you know your mother.”

  A gasp. “Warren McHenry!”

  Huh, must be his middle name.

  Look out. Fireworks might be next.

  Sorry, I don’t mean to be sarcastic about it, but it’s either that, or I get in big trouble with my man by insulting his mama right back.

  Wyatt pulled me—squashed me—into a sideways one-armed hug.

  He knows me so well.

  “I do know my mother. Though apparently she doesn’t know, or have enough faith in me to make my own decisions without her input. That’s a real shame, especially since I’m over 40. Maggie makes me happy. She’s not a mistake.”

  The pleading look on her face was as fake as her eyelashes. “Wyatt—”

  “I can see that, son. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Harriet, lips thinned, eyes narrowed, stared, not nicely at me. “I suppose we need to get a room somewhere?”

  “No.” Wyatt looked surprised. “You can stay at my place.”

  “I’m not sleeping in that house with the two of you fornicating down the hall.”

  I sucked in a breath.

  Wyatt squeezed tighter. Probably to stave off my possible nuclear meltdown. It wasn’t necessary. I was too dumbfounded. Although I should have expected it, or something like it. Once it sank in and I really analyzed it, there might be some fallout.

  Yeah, you’re right. I should have let her have it, right then and there.

  But she’s his mother.

  Warren’s face was looking flushed. “Harriet, I’m so ashamed of you. That was uncalled for.”

  “I’m not going to apologize for being truthful. They shouldn’t be—”

  I felt Wyatt tense. “Y’know, this is getting ugly. I’ll be staying at Maggie’s. Mom, if you don’t like my choice of a wife, that’s your prerogative, but I’m not about to change my mind. It took me too long to find her.” He kissed my temple. “And just to be clear, I’d love for you to be there, but if you decide it would be too much for you, you don’t have to come to the wedding.”

  Her face went white. She was too stubborn to faint, but it looked like it might be a close call. “W-wedding?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “You, you said you were engaged.”

  “We are.” He held up my left hand. “I suppose we could stay this way forever, but traditionally, a wedding follows an accepted proposal. And you’ve already made known how you feel about us living together, out of wedlock.”

  “But….”

  “But what?”

  Her husband folded his arms over his chest. “Yes, dear, please enlighten us.”

  “Stay out of this, Warren.”

  He wasn’t fazed.

  Neither was his son. “While you think about that, I have an invitation to relay. Maggie and I would like you to join us, along with her two sons—your soon-to-be grandsons, by the way—for supper at her house. Um.” He looked at me.

  I shrugged, confused.

  “When?”

  He wants me to think? “Oh, well. We could … um. Tonight’s open. I’ll have to check with the boys.”

  Hey, I did it for my folks. It would be more hurried, and I hoped to goodness Gage and Dawson were up for another round of lasagna.

  Wyatt, looking very relieved, nodded to his parents. “Tonight, it is. I’ll come by and pick you up. Around six?”

  “Uh—”

  “Six-thirty?”

  I nodded. “Better.”

  “We’ll be ready, son.”

  “Warren McHenry Madison!”

  “That’s enough out of you, you old crabapple.”

  Two gasps—one from me—and her cheeks were suddenly very rosy. Hard to tell if she was embarrassed, or just mad she wasn’t getting her way.

  My hunch? She was mad.

  “I love you very much, Mom, but if you can’t be civil about it, don’t come.”

  Her jaw dropped.

  Mine, too, truth be told.

  She huffed. “Honestly, Wyatt.”

  “I am being honest. Don’t shove your dislike, distrust, of Carolyn down all our throats. And don’t foist it onto Maggie when she doesn’t deserve it.”

  Now you might be wondering who Carolyn is? She’s Wyatt’s I-can’t-stand-to-be-in-the-same-county ex-wife.

  ’Nuff said.

  I patted his chest. “Maybe you should give her a chance to get to know me.” I didn’t really think it would help.

  “No. If she’s unable, or, more than likely, unwilling, to let go of the past, there’s nothing more to be said.”

  “Yes, there is, but we’ll table it for now.” See, I do try to be the mediator. Sometimes it even works. I addressed his parents. “I’m sure the two of you would like to get settled in and freshen up at Wyatt’s?”

  His father stepped forward and engulfed me in a hug that rivaled his son’s. “Yes, we would. And just for the record, I like you. You make him happy. And, well, that’s just icing on the cake.”

  He uses more clichés than Wyatt does, but I still hold the record.

  I hugged the man back. “Thanks. You’re pretty okay, too.”

  Wyatt’s mother stayed on her side of the four-foot expanse of floor, nose in the air, arms crossed. “Wyatt, if you please? We’ll follow you to your home.”

  His dad released me and turned. “For Pete’s sake, Harriet, I can find it. It’s not like we’ve never been here before.”

  “Hush up, you old goat.” Though the comments were addressed to her husband, she was giving me the evil-eye. “Now would be best, Wyatt.”

  I frowned.

  Wyatt pulled me aside. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

&
nbsp; “Wyatt, now!”

  She actually stamped her foot!

  His dad caught hold of her arm. “Harriet, he’s not a 10-year-old, anymore. Leave him be.”

  I looked at Wyatt. “Go on. Rick should be back soon.”

  “See that? She’s cavorting with other men, too.”

  “Put a sock in it, woman!” Warren hustled his wife over near the front door, and commenced to bending her ear with fierce whispering and intense hand gestures.

  From the looks of it, whatever he was saying, she wasn’t liking much.

  “I’m really sorry, babe.” Wyatt leaned in for a kiss. “I’ll be back. We’ll talk later. I promise.”

  I caught and held his eyes, then planted one on him.

  He grinned and winked, and went to join his parents.

  His mother opened her mouth.

  “Not. One. Word.”

  Why was she glaring at me?

  The drain of tension was enormous as they exited the building, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it was I’d done to make her so resentful, so hateful. Wyatt and I were going to be together for a very long time. She was going to have to learn to adjust.

  Or, I was going to have to change her mind.

  Incapable of delving into that right then, I shrugged and went to my desk. I needed to, physically and emotionally, step away from the situation. I’d revisit it again, later, after my brain mulched on it a while.

  Besides, I had work to do. The online county log needed to be checked for any reports that may have come in, and there were a few more hours to this day to get through before I had to face her, later tonight. Wasn’t I just so lucky.

  “You know,” came a voice from the corner.

  I gave a shriek, my heart lurching—felt like—right out of my chest.

  CHAPTER 36

  SHAKY LEGS, AND RESOLVE

  “GOOD LORD, Rick. You scared the color right outa my hair. What are you doing over there?”

  “Trying to be as quiet as possible.”

  “Well, you sure accomplished that.” My hand was still holding my rapidly galloping heart in place. “Holy moly.”

  “Wow. Wow.”

  “Yeah. That, too.”

  “You know how much I love my folks.”

  I wasn’t sure where he was going with that. “I do, yes.”