2 Heroes & Hooligans in Goose Pimple Junction

by Amy Metz

Jack nodded and looked as if a light bulb had come on in his head. “You learn something new every day, huh?”

  As they drove away, Jack called Tess again. “Hey, darlin’. Did you talk to her?” Johnny hit the turn signal and stopped at a stop sign.

  “Okay.” Jack listened some more. “And where’s she—” More listening, and then, “Okay. Mmm-hmm. Thanks a lot, sweetheart.” He hung up and said, “Martha Maye’s fine. She’s been at Lou’s most of the night.”

  Johnny checked his phone to see if he’d missed any calls while they were talking to the Graysons. “So why didn’t she call me back?”

  “That, Tess didn’t ask, but she did tell her you’ve been trying to reach her, and she said Martha Maye acted surprised.”

  “I don’t know why she’d be surprised. I’ve left three messages.”

  “You need to talk to her face to face,” Jack advised.

  “What if she’s avoiding me?” Johnny asked, looking worried.

  “Then you’ll know. Some smart folks can’t tell a rotten rail without sitting on it.”

  Trust everybody, but brand your cattle.

  ~Southern Proverb

  Bright and early on the Saturday following the Oktoberfest, Johnny sat in a window booth in the back of Slick and Junebug’s Diner, watching folks in the restaurant and out on the street. The usual smell of grease hung in the air, just enough to make a stomach rumble. He saw Junebug coming toward his table with a coffee pot in her hand, and he smiled at her.

  “What’ll it be today, Chief?” She turned his coffee cup over and filled it as she talked.

  “I have a hankering for some of Slick’s waffles, Junebug.”

  “Then that’s what you shall have, darlin’.” She paused for a moment, seeming unsure of something. “It is okay to call a chief of police darlin’, isn’t it?”

  “As a general rule, no, but I’ll make an exception for you.” Johnny gave a lopsided grin to the older woman, who was clearly pleased with his answer.

  “Oh, you.” She shoved his arm and started to walk away, then took two steps backward and cocked her head. “Side of bacon, too?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll go get your checkerboard and grunt and be back in a flash.”

  Johnny looked around the restaurant, studying the faces and thinking. It was entirely possible that a killer was in the room. He looked at the goings-on out on the street and was glad to see Louetta Stafford, in her lime-green skirt, hot-pink blouse, and orthopedic shoes walking with purpose up the sidewalk and into the diner. He’d hoped to run into her so he could try to find out what was going on with Martha Maye. He hadn’t talked to her since right after the funeral service. Lou looked around the diner, saw Johnny, and headed straight for his booth after sparring briefly with Clive and Earl.

  “Morning, Chief. I didn’t expect to see you here, but I’m glad y’are. Do you mind if I join you?”

  “Morning, Lou. I’d be offended if you didn’t. Hireyew?”

  “I’m still on the north side of the grass, but just barely.” Her hefty pink purse preceded her into the booth, and she slid in, taking in and letting out a deep breath once she was settled.

  “Aw, you look like you’re doing better than that.”

  “Well, I can’t say much for your eyesight, but you’re sweet as a four-sugar-cubed cup of coffee.” She leaned toward him and added with a wink, “And you’re easy on the eyes, too.”

  Johnny laughed. “And how’re Martha Maye and Butterbean?”

  “It’ll take some time for Butterbean,” she said, sadness registering on her face. “Martha Maye’s fine, but she seems to have her hands full with Lenny’s brother. I swan, she got rid of one Applewhite and now another one’s hanging on like a tick on a fat dog.”

  “How long’s he sticking around for?” Johnny sat upright when he saw Junebug approaching with his waffles and bacon. His frown at Lou’s statement turned into a grin aimed at Junebug when she set down his order.

  Lou leaned over the table, eyeing the waffles. “Ooh law, that looks delish. Junie, give me an order of them, too. Hold the bacon. A girl’s gotta watch her figure.”

  “Sure thing, Louetta. Hey, I don’t believe I’ve seen Martha Maye since Lenny was funeralized. She doing all right?”

  “I was just telling Johnny that she’s doing fine, but I’d like to think up a way to run that T. Harry outta town.”

  “How come?” Junebug scooted in next to Johnny and propped her chin on her hand, looking intently at Lou.

  “He won’t give them a minute’s peace. He walks them to school, and he walks them home. He stays for dinner, and he stays all evening. He says he wants to make sure they’re okay before he leaves town, but to tell you the truth, I think they’d be more okay if he left town.”

  “That’s just terrible. Why don’t she just tell him to get?” Junebug’s eyes went to Slick, who stood in the window that separated the counter from the grill. She waved away his stink eye.

  “She’s too kindhearted, Junebug. You know Martha Maye.”

  “Shoot. She should just tell him to cut his own weeds.”

  “That’s just it. He thinks Martha Maye and Butterbean are his business.”

  “Why don’t you have a talk with him, Chief?” Junebug nudged his arm.

  Johnny swallowed a big bite of waffle. “I don’t have cause to talk to him. I’m on leave from the department, and even if I weren’t, there’s been no complaint.”

  “I didn’t mean talk to him as the chief. You’re Martha Maye’s friend. Friends don’t let buttheads take over a friend’s life.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Junebug. I’d feel like I’d be overstepping my bounds if I did that without Martha Maye asking me to.”

  “She can’t ask you if you don’t talk to her. When’s the last time you two talked?” Louetta took her fork and cut a piece of Johnny’s waffle.

  “Not since the day of the funeral—”

  “You oughtta call her, Johnny, you know she’s sweet on you,” Lou said around a mouthful of waffle she’d stolen from Johnny’s plate.

  Johnny blushed and looked at his plate. “I did call. Left messages, even asked T. Harry to have her call me back, but she never did.”

  “You try again, you hear? Or stop by and see her. I know she wants to see you.”

  “Are you sure? And are you sure she’s all right? I mean, you did see her yesterday, correct?”

  “Yes and yes.” Louetta took another big bite of Johnny’s waffle, closing her eyes in ecstasy as she chewed and swallowed.

  After breakfast, Johnny did what Louetta suggested and headed to Martha Maye’s house. Waving to Estherlene, who was in her front yard raking leaves, he pulled into Martha Maye’s driveway and parked.

  “Hidee, Chief,” Estherlene called to him, leaning on her rake.

  “How-do to you, Mrs. Bumgarner.” He tipped his hat and walked up to her.

  “Oh, pooh. Don’t you Mrs. me. Makes me feel so old. Call me Estherlene.” She flashed a big smile that made Johnny think how beautiful she must have been in her younger days. She was over twice his age, but still a somewhat attractive woman.

  “Aw, you’re in the prime of your life, Estherlene.”

  “Well, bless your heart, aren’t you sweet for noticing,” she cooed.

  “You ought to get Hector to take you out dancing. They’ve got live music over at the Mag Bar, you know.”

  “The Mag Bar?” She flopped a dismissive hand in the air. “Oh no, that’s not somewhere I’d ever frequent.”

  Johnny nodded. “You doing this all by yourself?” He motioned with his eyes at the leaves.

  “Yeah,” she sighed. “Hector has a bad leg, so it’s hard for him to help out. I don’t mind. A little fresh air and exercise is good for a body.” Johnny nodded and she said, “Say, Chief, how’s the investigation coming along? Did you catch that hooligan?”

  Johnny turned toward Martha Maye’s house, looking for any sign of her, then turned back to Estherlene
to answer her question. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know. I’m on a leave of absence at the moment.”

  “A leave of absence? What do you want to do a fool thing like that for at a time like this? We got us a psychopath, a lunatic, a miscreant, and you pick now to take a leave of absence? Have you taken leave of your senses? I’m half scared outta my brain, and you’re on vacation?”

  He cleared his throat. “Uh, no ma’am, and I really shouldn’t discuss it—”

  “Maybe I can help, Chief. Did you know I have a touch of that there clairvoyant ability? And I’m not one of them fortune-teller hacks. I got a gift. I got some of that extrasensory perception, you know? I just know things. I don’t know where it comes from, stuff just pops into my head. I bet if I went to work with you, we could crack the case. Hector says I got one of them pornographic memories, and maybe I do—”

  “I’m pretty sure you mean photographic memory,” Johnny said, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

  “Whatever. I’m telling you, me and you team up together and we’ll catch us a hooligan. Why, I—”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Estherlene,” Johnny broke in. “Are you sure you didn’t see anything that night? Maybe a car, or something that didn’t seem important at the time?”

  She looked off toward the spot where they’d found Lenny’s body. “Hmm, now that you mention it, I think there was a truck parked up the block.” She pointed toward Honey’s house. I think it was green or blue, but with it being dark and all, I couldn’t say for sure. All’s I know is, it was a dark color.”

  Johnny pointed at the green pickup truck parked in Martha Maye’s driveway. “It didn’t look like that one, did it?”

  Her eyes went to the truck. “Hmm.” She tapped a finger on her top lip and stared at the truck, thinking hard. “It just might’ve, now that you mention it. I tell you what, I’ll put my thinking cap on, along with my oracular hat, and I’ll let you know what I come up with. Isn’t that Lenny’s brother’s truck? You don’t think the killer was his own brother, do you?”

  “Anything’s possible,” Johnny said. “And actually, you should call Officer Witherspoon. She’s in charge of the investigation, cause like I said, I’m not working right now.” He gave her a chagrined smile. “But listen, I was wondering, have you seen Martha Maye today? I need to speak with her.”

  “Today?” She gave it some thought. “I don’t believe so. Is she missing?”

  “Not that I know of. I’ll just go to the door and she if she’s home.”

  “Alrighty dighty. Nice chatting with you, Chief.” She resumed her raking. “You let me know when you want me to come in on the case. I’m raring to go.”

  Johnny waved her off and rang the bell. He didn’t have to wait long for the door to be answered. Unfortunately, T. Harry did the answering. He didn’t try to hide his lack of enthusiasm at seeing Johnny.

  “John.” His voice was monotone, face devoid of a smile. “What can I do for you?”

  “T. Harry.” Johnny nodded once. “Is Martha Maye at home?”

  “She’s busy at the moment.” T. Harry kept the front door half-closed, and his body took up the rest of the doorway so Johnny couldn’t look past him.

  “Would you mind telling her I’m here and would like to speak to her for a few moments?”

  “Yes.” T. Harry pulled the front door almost closed, standing in between it and the screen door he held propped open with his knee. He stood with his arms crossed, trying to look menacing. He smelled of beer and cigarettes.

  “Yes, you’ll tell her, or yes, you mind?” Johnny tried his best to keep a friendly tone of voice. He moved slightly to the right so he could look directly at T. Harry through the opening.

  “Yes, I mind. She’s undisposed at the moment.”

  “Oh.” Johnny scratched his head and put his hands in his pockets, trying to decide how to proceed. He felt like he was trying to get past a border guard. “Well, when she’s indisposed, would you please tell her I stopped by and I need to speak with her?”

  “Sure thing.” T. Harry backed up and took his foot away, letting the screen door slap shut seconds before he closed the front door firmly in Johnny’s face.

  “You have a real good day,” Johnny said to the closed door.

  T. Harry walked into the kitchen where Martha Maye was making lunch. The radio was on, and her hips were swaying in place as she sang along to Shania Twain’s “When You Kiss Me.”

  “T, was someone at the door?” she said over her shoulder.

  “Naw, it was just some of them Jehovah’s Witnesses.” He came up beside her and took a pinch of egg salad from the bowl. He put it in his mouth and then wiped the leftover from his finger on the tip of her nose.

  “T. Harry! Stop carrying on like a fool!” She wiped her nose with a dishtowel and went back to making the sandwiches.

  “I have an idea,” T. Harry said, sitting down at the table. “What say you, me, and Butterbean take a drive out to the country to look at the pretty leaves?”

  “I doubt Butterbean would find that a very appealing afternoon activity,” she said, cutting a sandwich.

  “Well, maybe she could stay over at Honey’s and play with Maddy Mack while me and you go.”

  “You and I. You and I. You and I. You and I.” It came out harsh and exasperated. She gentled her tone. “And I don’t know, T. I kind of want to spend time with Butterbean and not go off without her—”

  “Then we could take her to a movie,” he interrupted. “Or we could take these samiches and go out to the country for a picnic.”

  “I think I’d just like to stay at home today, but thanks for the offer. There’s no reason you can’t go do something, though. You don’t have to stay here and entertain us.” She’d finished making three sandwiches, and she licked her fingers clean. “What?” she asked, looking curiously at him.

  “I was just thinking how pretty you are.”

  “Oh, T. Harry, stop that foolishness.” It wasn’t said in a flirtatious tone, but in more of a don’t-go-there kind of tone. “Butterbean!” She stuck her head out the kitchen door. “Lunch!”

  Butterbean came into the kitchen looking glum. She flopped into a chair without saying a word.

  “Wash your hands, pumpkin.”

  Butterbean went to the sink, while Martha Maye added potato chips to the three plates, set them on the table, and sat down.

  “Say, Carrie,” T. Harry pretended he just had a thought, “how about we go hiking today? I’ll make a list of things we have to find in the woods, and we’ll have ourselves a scavenger hunt. What do you say?”

  Martha Maye’s mouth dropped open, but she stayed quiet when Butterbean perked up. “Yeah! That sounds like fun.”

  “All right. That’s what we’ll do. And Marty, why don’t you pack us up some cold chicken and tater salad, and some of them oatmeal cookies, and we’ll have us a picnic dinner.”

  “Yeah, Mama! That sounds real nice.” Butterbean clapped her hands together in delight. It was the liveliest Martha Maye had seen her daughter act in a week, and she couldn’t say no.

  “You could sell country to cornbread,” Martha Maye told T. Harry.

  “Thank you kindly, Marty.” He beamed at them both.

  Johnny walked into A Blue Million Books later that afternoon in a foul mood, but he had to laugh when he saw the back of Pickle’s T-shirt. It read, LEGALIZE POT PIE. Then he remembered seeing Pickle in the Mag Bar’s parking lot.

  “Hey, Pickle.”

  “Hidee, Chief.” Pickle was three steps up on a ladder and turned his head to speak over his shoulder but kept at his job of dusting.

  “Glad I ran into you. There’s something I wanted to ask you about.”

  “Yessir?” Pickle stepped down and turned toward him. Johnny could now see a picture of a steaming hot pot pie on the front of the boy’s shirt.

  “Did I see you over at the Mag Bar the other night?”

  Pickle’s brow wrinkled. “Uh, co
uld be.”

  “Either you were or you weren’t, son.” He stepped closer to him. “The thing is, I can think of no good reason for you to be there, and I can think of lots of bad reasons.” Johnny put his hand on Pickle’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “As a friend, I’m telling you, if you’re buying pot pie, you need to know it ain’t legal yet, and you’d best stop right quick. I won’t ask you to incriminate yourself, but if I see you over there again, I will stop you and search your car and your person. Is that clear?”

  Pickle looked like a bobblehead doll as he nodded. “But—”

  Johnny squeezed his shoulder in a fatherly gesture. “No buts. Teenage years can be hard; just don’t go doing anything stupid. You understand my meaning?”

  Pickle nodded again, and Johnny said, “Is Louetta around?”

  “Yessir, she’s in the back, but—”

  “Back to work, Pickle.” Johnny walked toward the back of the store and called out for Lou from the counter. She came out of her office patting her hair in place.

  “I thought that was your voice I heard. Well? Did you talk to her?”

  “I tried, Lou. I couldn’t get past the sentry.” Louetta looked puzzled, and he added, “T. Harry. He said she was indisposed and shut the door in my face.”

  “Oh, that man. I’d like to snatch his arm out and beat him with the bloody stump.”

  “Louetta Stafford!”

  “I’m telling you, Johnny, I got a bad feeling about him. So whatchew gonna do now, just let him chase you away?”

  “I went back by the house a few minutes ago, but no one was home. I stopped in at Honey’s, and she said she didn’t know where they were.”

  “That can’t be.” She picked up the phone and punched in some numbers. She ended the call and punched in seven new numbers. “I don’t know why she got a cell phone. She hardly ever keeps it on.”

  Drumming her fingers while she waited for an answer, Johnny watched as her expression changed from irritated to worried. He heard her say, “Martha Maye, this is Mama. You give me a call the minute you get home, you hear? I’m worried about y’all. Call me, now.”