Murder to the Max

by Tegan Maher

  "Alrighty, then, my mistake," he said, raising his hands. I'd bet dollars to donuts he was the same way with his family.

  Hunter flicked a piece of cheese onto each burger like he was dealing cards. “I’m about 90 percent sure I have the guy who murdered you, but it sure would be handy if you could remember, because that’s not a percentage I’m comfortable with.”

  He paused, then blew out an unnecessary frustrated breath. "I wish I could remember, but it's a complete blank. I remember Emily givin' me hell and sendin' me to the doghouse, but after that, nothin'."

  Addy shook her head. "That’s a shame. I reckon it makes sense that you may not remember exactly what happened right off the bat. I'd think that would be traumatizing."

  "Speaking of not making any sense," Rae said, "your wife found a stack of receipts and some travel brochures after you zoned out at your office. Care to fill in the class about who exactly Cindy Lou is?"

  He looked uncomfortable and held up his finger. "I'll be back."

  And poof. There he went again.

  Chapter Thirty

  We brought out the macaroni salad and the rest of the sides and fixin's, then called the kids. Justin came running across the deck, his too-big shoes almost tripping him up in his haste.

  "Go in and wash your hands," I said, shooing him away from the bag of buns just before he stuffed a grubby hand in it.

  "Yes, ma'am. Sorry," he said, snatching his hand back and flinching.

  That made me want to go wring the woman who’d been entrusted with his well-being's neck. "Nothing to be sorry about," I told him. "Just go wash the horse grime off you; it's no big deal." I reached out and tapped him on the calf with my toe to take any sting out of my words.

  Shelby saw the exchange on her way into the house to wash up. Changing directions, she reached across the table to grab a cracker off the plate in front of me. I realized she was trying to make him comfortable again and swatted at her hand. "Same goes for you, brat. Jeez, you're all heathens."

  She pulled her hand back after purloining a quick cracker, then winked at him and turned toward the house. "C'mon. I'll show you where everything is."

  He was smiling again as he trailed after her. There were times when I wanted to beat her like a drum, then she'd do something like that and make me so proud I could just burst. It made up for all the aggravation and then some.

  Rae motioned toward the deviled eggs and I passed her the plate. We managed to get our plates filled before the kids had time to come out and tear through the food like locusts.

  Once we were all was seated around the table with piles of food in front of us, there wasn't any time for talking. I was halfway through my dawg before Max came ambling around the corner, his ear splayed out to either side. "Sure. Don't tell the donkey supper's ready. I'm just a dumb animal."

  I rolled my eyes, but Justin's eyes were as big as an owl's. "You have a talking donkey?" he asked, then turned to Max. "You talked, right?"

  Max shot him a scathing look. "Nooo, not me. I didn't say a word. It's all in your head. But while you're hallucinating, make me a cheeseburger."

  "What is it with you people and snarky attitudes?” Justin asked. “Sheesh. First Ms. Addy pokes me and makes a comment about making soup out of me, now a donkey's gettin' smart with me. You know I'm not the weird one here, right? Or at least the only weird one."

  "I know no such thing," Max said, then motioned toward the food with his nose. "Before it gets cold, please!"

  While Justin reached to make him a burger, Max butted me on the leg. "Have you any idea yet when work will resume on my spa? I'd like to make use of it before it snows."

  "Spa?" Justin asked.

  "Yeah, we're in the middle of having a pool and new deck built. Max, the ghost you just met, was our contractor, so work's stopped on it," Shelby explained, then motioned to the haughty donkey. "And he’s referring to the separate kiddie pool that's just for him, or so he thinks."

  Justin looked around the deck at the gaping hole in the ground and the huge mound of dirt, then back to Max, who reached out to take the cheeseburger between his teeth. "That makes at least as much sense as everything else I've seen today, I reckon."

  "You’ll get used to it," Rae said. "Before I forget, the strangest thing happened today. I took the trash out after the breakfast rush this morning and that broken latch on the dumpster door was fixed. Which of y'all do I need to thank?"

  Nobody spoke up.

  "Wait a minute here." Hunter looked around the table, then started with Rae. "Your gate's fixed." Then me. "Your feed room door and saddle racks are fixed and somebody randomly fed the horses and cleaned the stalls for you. And Bobbie Sue's tables repaired themselves overnight."

  We nodded. Cody held up a finger as he washed a huge mouthful of food down with his tea.

  "Now that you mention it, the loose railing on the steps at the clinic doesn't wobble anymore. I just figured Will fixed it, but he said he didn’t. And Mrs. Shumacher, the lady who owns that huge Great Dane, said she had a pan of biscuits and a peach pie go missing from her food truck at the tournament, right out of the back where they were cooling."

  I turned to Addy. "And you're sure you haven't seen anybody messing around?"

  She bit her lip but shook her head. "Nope, not a thing."

  I narrowed my eyes at her, but if she was hiding something, she was hiding it well. And I knew one thing for sure—she would never put our safety at risk or let anybody mess with this farm.

  Justin had torn through a hamburger and two hotdogs along with all the sides and was pushing the onions that he'd picked out of the macaroni salad around on his plate, lost in thought.

  I nudged Hunter and looked pointedly at Justin.

  "You look like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders," Hunter said to him. "Care to share the load?"

  He drew a deep breath but didn't look up. A lock of sandy hair had fallen onto his forehead and it almost seemed as if he were trying to hide behind it. "What's going to happen to me?"

  My heart about broke for him, then I realized he'd been at the barn while we were discussing his fate and didn't know what was going on. "For now, you're going to stay here, if that's okay with you." I told him. It really didn't matter whether it was okay or not, because he had nowhere else to go, but I wanted him to feel like he had a say in it.

  He looked at us, then at the barn and across the pastures. "That'd be okay, I reckon. But then what?"

  I wanted to give him an answer that would put him at ease, but I honestly didn't know, and I wasn't going to lie to him.

  "We're not sure yet. But for now—and as far as I'm concerned for as long as need be—you're welcome here."

  Addy cleared her throat and he looked up at her. "But if you're gonna stay here, you abide by the house rules, and one of the big ones is that there ain't no stealing. Thievin' isn't tolerated under any circumstances."

  He squared his shoulders. "Yes, ma'am. I promise."

  "Don't take this the wrong way," Shelby said, "but since you're going to be staying here, why were you in foster care? Did you get in trouble, or did something happen to your parents?"

  "No, I didn't get in trouble, I swear! My parents are dead and I don't have any other relatives that I know of. My mom died when I was born, then Dad passed a few months ago in a freak accident at work. He was a crane operator. That's how I ended up in this mess." He looked down at his plate again. "They'd both be so disappointed in me."

  Addy cleared her throat. "I don't reckon they would; you did what you had to do to survive. You maybe went about it the wrong way, but it's done. That ain't the case no more, though. You'll have plenty to eat here, and Shelby or Noelle will take you for new clothes tomorrow, and you'll have an allowance if you do your chores."

  "Chores?" he looked at me, confused.

  Shelby nodded. "Oh, yeah. Chores. If I gotta go them, so do you. We all do our share. Even Noelle. It takes work to keep this place running." She ran down the l
ist of daily tasks.

  "Oh," he said, "those aren't awful. I don't mind helping do any of that. Except laundry. I'm not too keen on that."

  I raised my brows. "Join the club there, hotrod. None of us are, but it's gotta be done. Addy had us doing the wash at your age, so welcome to the rotation."

  He scowled, then reached for another hotdog when Max butted him and demanded one. That was acceptable to me; I scowled when I thought of folding clothes too, but he still had to do them. I motioned toward Max. "Don't let him boss you like that; otherwise, he'll use you as his personal servant."

  Max waggled his donkey brows at me, then turned to Justin with big, sad, donkey eyes. "Don't listen to her. She never feeds me. If not for you, I wouldn't have gotten anything from this meal other than scraps they may have dropped."

  I rolled my eyes. "Stuff it. You always want some more, but it's because you're a glutton, not because I don't feed you."

  Justin watched the exchange but apparently decided to follow orders from the lop-eared dictator, because he picked up a hotdog. He'd just stuffed it in a bun when Max the ghost popped back in right over the table, causing Justin to drop the dawg, bun and all, right into the bowl of baked beans.

  "Great," he grumbled as he fished it out. "Is there never any warning when y'all do that?"

  "Excuse me for not ringing the doorbell, first," Max snarked.

  The donkey was perturbed. "You sir. You just barge in here whenever you feel like it, and disturb the young man whilst he's feeding a poor, defenseless animal! Shame!"

  Max the old codger scoffed. "You don't look underfed to me, and I had a donkey when I was a kid. You ain't defenseless by a long shot. Like as not, you were bossin' the kid around, out-stubborning him."

  "You two knock it off. They're trying to eat," Addy said.

  The ghost crossed his arms. "I didn't come here to take no sass from a smart-mouthed ass."

  The donkey pulled his wooly-worm eyebrows down. "And I shan't take abuse from a backwoods deadneck."

  Hunter nudged my knee under the table. He was having a hard time keeping a straight face, too. I bit my lip, then pulled my grown-up scolding face on before facing them. "Well, donkey or deadneck, I'm not seeing much difference between the two of you right now, other than one of you looks more like how you're both acting than the other. Which, by the way," I told Max the ghost, motioning toward the donkey, "is exactly what landed him in that body to begin with six hundred years or so ago. Just something to keep in mind."

  I cleared my throat and turned back to Justin, who had finally managed to fish the soggy bun and hotdog out of the beans. "Max, meet Justin Poling. You caught a glimpse of him earlier. Justin, Max Wheeler. Justin's going to be staying with us for a while."

  Realization dawned on Max's face and he shot me a look of—gasp—was that approval? "That's great," he said. "What do you know about football, boy?"

  "Not much, sir."

  Max turned to Cody, his tone gruff. "This one here can teach you. Speakin' of which, you did a good job at the game, son. I couldn't have done any better."

  Cody blushed with pleasure. "Thank you, sir. I didn't know you were there."

  "I was, but hung back. That's your place now. I was glad to see you stick to your guns with Malcolm. He's nothing but a loudmouth and a bully, and the apple don't fall far from the tree with his boy."

  I was so shocked that he was being something other than a bossy, sullen jerk that I couldn't tear my attention away from the exchange. Raeann elbowed me and motioned with her head toward Justin. He was looking at his lap and trying to make himself as small as possible.

  Nudging him, I asked, "You got something on your mind?"

  He looked at Max, then to Hunter, who was talking about Chet with Max and Cody. His gaze was conflicted when he turned back to me and shook his head. "No, ma'am."

  I gave him my best Aunt Addy truth stare, but he didn't buckle. He also didn't make eye contact, but I figured he'd come out with it eventually.

  Chapter Thirty One

  After that, the rest of the evening was kinda anti-climactic. I remembered at the last minute what Max had told me that morning about Basil Bennett's fishing camp and passed the info on to Hunter. I told him to let me know if he needed somebody to show him around so he wouldn't get lost.

  I really hoped he’d need me because I was dying to see what the man had to say for himself.

  The fishing tournament was over so I didn't need to do any baking until the next day; she had enough to get through another day. Rae'd had a couple of glasses of wine too many to be driving, so she decided to crash at the farm. We got Justin settled after the boys left, then we all made it an early night.

  I did a quick internet search for any D. Tenneys in the area, but came up empty, or rather I came up too full. There were at least a dozen D. Tenneys, or Donald, David, Daniel, Danielle ... the list went on. Apparently, there was quite the Tenney population. Who knew?

  After I put on my jammies, I fluffed my pillows and lay back on them with my hands behind my head, thinking about what to do with the rest of my life.

  I'd gotten the fifty-grand reward from Hank Dolittle's mother, then another thirty grand when Peggy Sue Dalton, the clerk at the courthouse, had completed what had come to be known as The Audit and determined that Hank had been charging three times what our taxes should have been for almost fifteen years. Sadly, we were one among many, but he squirreled away most of the money and his widow, Anna Mae, did everything she could to make things right, even though she didn't have to.

  That meant that after I'd bought a new-to-me, three-year-old truck, paid for the pool, and did a little fixing up around the farm, I'd still have sixty grand-ish. I wanted to add more to Shelby’s college fund and put back some for emergencies. Even after that, there was enough cash left to start my own business, but the problem was that I didn't know what I wanted to be when I grew up.

  I loved to bake, but that seemed so cliché. All kitchen witches were bakers and that was something I did for pleasure; I didn't want to turn it into something I had to do.

  I had the degree in criminal justice and Hunter had offered me a job as deputy, but that didn't feel right either. I cared about him, but time apart was a good thing.

  I was playing with the idea of the whole upcycle and repurpose thing. In my head, I was combining Pickers and Flea Market Flip. The idea of rescuing great pieces from decay and turning them into something modern and useful appealed to me. I'd always loved history, and antiques seemed to almost have souls of their own when I touched them.

  My mental meanderings were interrupted when Shelby tapped on my door, then came in and flopped down on her back beside me.

  "Whatcha thinkin' about, sister?" she asked after a few minutes. "I can almost see the smoke coming out of your ears."

  "Just little things. You know, the meaning of life, why cherries are red, whether or not I want to buy a giraffe with all this money ... the list goes on."

  "Well, I don't know about the first two, but I don't think you have enough money to buy a giraffe. And if you do, can you imagine the feed bill? I think they eat something like seventy-five pounds of food a day. And I'm not cleaning that stall."

  I laughed. "What's up, brat?"

  She turned her head and looked at me across my comforter. "I'm a little worried about you. Hunter never stays here, and I'm afraid that's because you don't want to set a bad example for me."

  I lifted a shoulder. "I don't know. It just feels weird, not just because of you—though that's definitely part of it—but because I still feel like it's a no-no. I mean, it still feels like I'm under the no-boys-overnight rule."

  "I'm pretty sure Addy didn't mean for that to extend beyond her death into your spinsterhood."

  I elbowed her. "I am not a spinster, thank you very much! I guess I need to rethink it."

  "I think you're right. Addy loves Hunter, and you're a grown woman. For that matter, I'm getting there, too. If you remember, I sat through the bir
ds and the bees talk twice. Yours because I was hiding behind the couch eavesdropping, then later, mine. You're not going to corrupt me at this point. It's not like there's a revolving door on your bedroom."

  She wrinkled her nose. "As long as he doesn't show up downstairs in his tighty whiteys. That would be weird."

  I laughed. "No fear of that!"

  "I know—he's way too mannerly for that."

  "Not just that," I told her, snickering. "But he wears boxer briefs."

  "Oh, geez!" she said, wrinkling her nose and stuffing her fingers in her ears. "Lalalala! TMI!"

  I laughed and laid my head over next to hers.

  "You're all right for a brat. You know that, right?"

  "Yeah," she replied, touching my hand. "I am pretty awesome. It runs in the family."

  Chapter Thirty Two

  I was off the next day, which was good because I needed to take Justin shopping. The kid literally had the clothes on his back plus one other outfit, and both were ratty. Then I was going to follow up with Emily about what was going on with the business. I had to resolve this pool issue before winter, and I really wanted to have it done for Labor Day.

  Rae had left early to open Brew, so I had the kitchen to myself. While I was drinking my coffee, I placed another call to Camille. I was actually starting to get worried about her. To my surprise, she answered.

  "Hey!" I said when she answered. "I was starting to wonder if you'd up and moved without leaving a forwarding address. Are you okay? Where are you?"

  "I'm all right, but I can't tell you where I'm at. This case has just had me jumping around all over the place and I still don't have the problem contained. It's making me nuts, but every time I think I'm close to wrapping it up, the witch gets another step ahead of me. What's going on there?" She sounded exhausted.