War and Peach

by Susan Furlong

  Ray shook his head. “Even worse, he was blackmailing a young man into doing his dirty work for him.”

  Soon after the shooting, Hawk had called Ray. He’d tracked down Lucas, who was hiding out at his aunt’s house in Macon. Ray had then talked to him from the hospital and gotten the whole story. And was it ever a humdinger: A while back, Travis had busted a bunch of kids, including Lucas, up at Hill Lake for underage drinking. He’d let the other kids slide, but singled out Lucas, who was already on probation for some minor offences. Then, Travis blackmailed Lucas into stealing scrap metal around town.

  “At first it was just small stuff,” I told my parents. “A few pieces here and there. Then when no one seemed to catch on to his scheme, Travis convinced Lucas to take bigger, more valuable items. Like the air-conditioning units. And copper wiring from Cade’s construction site. And more recently, several dozen folding chairs from the Baptist church.” I drew in my breath. “There were other things, too. And Travis was clever. He handled most of the complaints himself, making people think he’d written up a report and was investigating their thefts, when really he was just hiding the facts from the sheriff. Considering how few people like to chat with Maudy, it’s no surprise that they never later asked her directly about it. And the things she did know about, like the high school bleachers, she just wrote off as a bunch of kids pulling a prank.”

  Ray nodded. “Lucas said he cashed in the stuff over at the recycler in Perry. The guy paid Travis directly. Lucas never handled any of the money.”

  Daddy rubbed at his chin. “So Clem found out about it and that’s why Travis killed him?”

  I nodded. “For the past two years, Lucas has been working for Clem. He even managed the farm’s crew last year. And as you know, he’s also dating Clem’s niece, Tessa.” Daddy nodded, and I continued, “Well, according to Lucas, Clem caught him with a bunch of scrap metal in the back of his truck. He figured out what Lucas was doing and fired him. He also refused to let him see his niece.”

  “But Tessa wasn’t going to have any of that,” Ray added. “She knew all about what was going on with Lucas, so she told her uncle the whole story, including how Travis was blackmailing Lucas into doing the stealing for him.”

  “That’s right,” I agreed. “But Lucas panicked when he found out that Tessa had told her uncle about Travis. He figured he’d end up the scapegoat and go to jail for sure. And he didn’t know who to turn to. He couldn’t go to the sheriff. She’d never believe him. Who would? He was a kid who’d already been in trouble with the law on several occasions. Whereas Travis was well-thought-of not only in the community but by the sheriff, too. Lucas figured he didn’t stand a chance if he came clean. So, instead, he warned Travis that Clem knew about the scrap metal thefts. He thought maybe Travis would stop what he was doing, leave town, or something. We’ll never know what Travis’s idea was in going out to see Clem that day. I’d like to think it was to strike some bargain or other, but things got out of hand.” I recalled some of Travis’s last words, how he’d sworn he hadn’t meant for Clem to die. We’d never really know now.

  “Either way, he killed Clem,” Daddy said with a shake of his head. Then he shifted his weight and moaned a little.

  I jumped up and plumped his pillow. “Are you uncomfortable, Daddy? Is there something I can get you?”

  “No, no, darlin’. I’m fine. Just sick of this blasted hospital room. Can’t wait to get back to my own bed.”

  I patted his shoulder. “Soon, Daddy. Real soon.”

  “Yeah, Pops. And now that the real killer’s been found, you can rest easier.”

  Daddy’s eyes filled with pride. “I sure can, Bud. Thanks to you two.”

  “Actually,” Ray said, “it was mostly Nola. She was determined to find Clem’s real killer. Even stayed a couple nights at Sunny Side Up so she could observe John Whitaker, or rather Felix Ganassi.”

  “I really thought Ganassi was Clem’s killer,” I admitted. And I still wished it were him. How much easier that would be than finding out that Travis, who we all knew and trusted, was guilty of such a heinous crime. “It really all boiled down to the timing of the crime. Since it was such a narrow opening between the time Daddy left the farm and the call came in for the barn fire, I knew whoever killed Clem had to have been in the general area. That really only left a few people who had both motive and opportunity: Jack Snyder, who lives just down the road and was desperate for a mayoral win; Whitaker/Ganassi, who was giving Joe Puckett a ride out that way near the time of the murder; and Lucas and Margie, whose whereabouts I never could quite pin down. And they both had motive. I never even considered Travis until I was at the funeral and Candace mentioned being out of town the day of the murder. Then I remembered that Travis had told me earlier in the week that he was the one who spotted the fire and called it in. He said he was in the area, answering a call from Candace. Which, at the time, made sense to me, because . . . well, you all know how Candace can be.” Everyone nodded. “Then when I realized Candace wasn’t even in town, well, it added doubt about Travis and finally it all started to come together.”

  Mama spoke up, “But what about my handkerchief?” She stole a glance at Daddy, her cheeks turning crimson. “The one they found in Clem’s bedsheets.”

  “That threw me for a loop,” I admitted. “I knew it was planted. That and the gas can. The gas can wasn’t as difficult to explain. Our barn is never locked, so anyone could have snuck in and took it. I even recall Roscoe waking me up in the middle of the night last week. He was barking at something outside. I didn’t think too much of it at the time, but now I’m guessing that it was Travis out in our barn, taking the gas can.”

  “That makes sense,” Daddy said. “But what about that handkerchief?”

  “That was tricky,” I answered. “At first, I thought whoever planted it must have taken it from our house or out of your purse. Now I’m wondering if it wasn’t simpler than that. Do you remember that day at the sheriff’s office, when Daddy was being questioned about Clem’s death? Ray came over from Perry and we were all there? Daddy was so stressed, and, well, it was hot in the sheriff’s office that day. I remember you took out your handkerchief and gave it to Daddy so he could wipe his brow.”

  “That’s right!” Mama exclaimed. “Things got so heated, I don’t think I remembered to get it back from him.”

  I bobbed my head in agreement. “I don’t know for sure, but I think that’s how Travis got it. We’ll never really know now that he’s . . .” I swallowed away the last of the sentence. “Anyway, I wish it would have been Ganassi, not Travis.”

  Mama reached over and touched my shoulder. “At least you got the best of that fellow Ganassi. I shudder to think what might have happened if you hadn’t hit him with that branch.” She glanced Ray’s way, her mouth drooping a bit at the corners. “Why, I’d cry forever if anything ever happened to one of you children.” Then she looked back at me, her eyes blazing. “Excuse my language, but I hope you hit that jackass hard.”

  “Oh, she did, Mama,” Ray said with a chuckle. “Heard one of the nurses say that she about knocked him into next week.”

  “That’s my girl,” Mama said, with an upward tilt of her chin.

  My heart soared with pride, then sank a little. “He’s going to make it, isn’t he?” I asked Ray.

  “Yeah, sis. Don’t worry. He’s going to make it.”

  Daddy cleared his throat to say something just as the room door swung open. Ida rushed in, bringing along a cloud of stress with her. “I just knew y’all were probably here already. I tried to get here sooner, but Junior was givin’ me fits. He’s in that clingy stage, you know? Won’t let me out of his sight for a second. It’s just drivin’ me crazy. And did y’all hear? Jack Snyder’s our new mayor. ’Course we all figured he’d win, didn’t we?” She crossed over, oblivious to the rest of us, and inserted herself between Daddy and me. “How’s my patient
today?” she cooed, leaning in and kissing Daddy on the cheek. “Can I get you anything? Some water? How about some—” She stopped midsentence and scrutinized Ray’s head. “Mercy. What’s happened to you? The whole side of your face is black and blue.”

  Ray started to explain, but Daddy held up his hand. “There’s going to be plenty of time to catch your sister up on all the recent happenings. But first, now that I’ve got all three of you here, there’s something I want to discuss with y’all.”

  I sucked in my breath. I knew what was coming and I wasn’t prepared to give an answer. “Couldn’t this wait, Daddy?”

  He shook his head. “No, darlin’. I’m headin’ up to Atlanta tomorrow. They’ll be operatin’ on me before the end of the week. And I just want to have all my affairs in order, just in case.”

  Ida flinched. “Don’t be talking like that, Daddy. Everything’s gonna be fine. Just fine.”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” Daddy replied. Mama straightened her shoulders, reached out and covered his rough, work-worn hand with her own smooth, graceful fingers. Such a simple gesture, yet so full of strength.

  Daddy continued, “And just in case I don’t come through, I need to know that your mama’s going to be taken care of properly. You see, we haven’t been able to save much over the years, with peach farmin’ bein’ the way it is. But the house is paid for and the equipment and all.”

  I heard a sniffle and looked over to see that Ray had moved closer to Ida. He had his arm around her shoulders, trying to comfort her. Although we’d never spoken of it, both Ray and I understood that if something were to happen to either of our parents, Ida would be devastated. We all would. But Ida even more so.

  Ray spoke up. “You know we’d make sure Mama was always taken care of, don’t ya, Pops? You don’t need to even worry about that.”

  Daddy smiled. “Yes, I know that, Ray. Your mama and I have been blessed with you kids. Truly blessed.”

  I looked over at my siblings and nodded. Daddy was right. We Harpers were a unique bunch—that’s for sure. There was Ida, high-strung, and always the overachiever—the one we went to when something needed to get done. She adored Daddy, worshipped him even, and was so very close to Mama. After all, they had so much in common. Their love of cooking and homemaking, taking care of the family, even shopping. Boy could they ever shop! Ida was also very nurturing. She was a good mama to her own children. And when the time came, I had no doubt she’d be the one who’d lovingly nurse our parents in their old age. Ray, on the other hand, was extremely driven, determined to make a name for himself. While he doted on Mama, he was also often at odds with Daddy when it came to the farm and other matters of business. Yet, I had the feeling that everything he did, all the decisions he’d made in his own career, were to make our father proud. And he had. I only hoped he realized it.

  Me? Well, I hadn’t yet figured out my role in the family. I’d always felt a bit like the odd one out. Everything I’d chosen to do was a bit unconventional, from my youthful, and often foolish, shenanigans to my years as a devoted aid worker. Now, it seemed I needed to make another choice. One that would definitely alter the rest of my life.

  Daddy’s next words drew me back to the conversation. “And that’s why your mother and I have decided to sell the farm. Ray has his practice; Ida, you’ve got my beautiful grandchildren to take care of; and, well, it’s not fair of us to ask Nola to take on the farm. She has the shop, her own life . . .”

  Sell the farm? I’d known all along that selling the farm was the only other option, but now that I heard the words spoken out loud, a shiver of horror spiraled up my back. Over four generations of Harpers had worked the very land we still lived on today. It was home—always had been—no matter where I’d lived. I’d slept in tents on warm desert nights and laughed with other volunteers in front of fires in mountainous huts. I’d seen sprawling fields of rice paddies and helped villagers learn new techniques to grow squash and raise their goats. But the warm, loamy soil and the rolling hills of peach trees, why, these were at the core of my own family’s lives. At my core. I couldn’t let it go.

  “It’s just too much for one person,” Daddy was saying. I glanced around the room. Everyone was nodding in agreement, seemingly resigned to the idea of letting our family farm go to strangers.

  “And how’s that?” I heard myself say. “Haven’t you been running it by yourself all these years?”

  Daddy looked confused. “No. Not really. Your mother’s always helped. And you kids when you were still at home.”

  “Mama did, sure, but she tended to us kids, never worked the orchards all that much, right?”

  Mama gave me an odd look as she nodded.

  “And you hire in crews during harvest, right? Well, I could do the same.”

  “But you have the shop,” Mama said.

  “I know. I love the shop and don’t want to give it up. But without the constant supply of peaches from the farm, I’d have to find other suppliers. The additional costs would probably put me out of business.” I felt the words tumbling out as the ideas flashed, clear and bright, as if I’d known this all along, just hadn’t seen it until this moment. “Besides, I’ve been considering the idea of giving Carla a more active role at Peachy Keen. She’s a good worker and seems to be interested in more responsibility. Income has been good, so there’s plenty enough to support her as a full-time employee. I might also need to hire an overseer for the farm. All this will cut into our profits, but if I hire the right people, maybe we’ll also increase our bottom line.”

  As I spoke I felt the tingle of excitement about the challenges. It was no different than tackling any of the third world projects I’d seen to completion over the years: see the problem, consider the potentials and discover the solutions. And this was the best project ever: saving our family farm. There were so many things I wanted to do both at the farm and at my shop. I’d recently read an article about popular heirloom peaches that were selling for top market price to fancy grocers and to top chefs for their exclusive restaurants in the city. I’d been meaning to approach Daddy about planting fifty or so of that variety, just to see if we could fill that specialty niche. And the shop? Well, the possibilities were endless. I thought perhaps Carla had hit on something special when she suggested selling peach-themed chocolates and candies. Something like that might really catch on around these parts and be a real boon to our online business once we could figure out a way to package and ship them.

  Ida spoke up. “I could help with the farm’s bookkeeping. And finding buyers and outlets for our peaches. I think I’d be good at it. And it’s something I could do while the girls are in school.” Her face brightened a little. “During the summer months, when the kids are home, I could possibly hire a young girl to come in and help a couple mornings a week.” She looked a bit sheepish as she added, “I’d actually welcome something away from the kids for just a few hours a week.”

  “And I’ll do whatever I can, too,” Ray added. “It may not be much, though, since I’m busy with my practice. But at least you’ll always have legal advice.” He chuckled. “And this family sure seems to need it.”

  “There. You see,” I told Daddy. “We’re all on board with the idea. I’d like to give it a try anyway.” I looked from him to Mama and shook my head. “Truth is, I can’t bear the idea of the farm not being in the family anymore.”

  Daddy looked toward Mama, squeezed her hand and smiled. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw him blink away a tear or two. Mama, in turn, let out a long sigh and leaned forward, placing her head lovingly on his shoulder. And just like that, I knew I’d made the right decision. Because I’d seen this type of exchange between my parents many times over the years. Sometimes it was Daddy who was the strong one. Often, Mama. But the one steady thing was their unending support of one another. It was the same with all us Harpers. Through the many happy times and the sometimes trying, de
sperate times, the one thing that always held true was our love and support of one another.

  Chapter 20

  Southern Girl Secret #100: There’s really not anything better in life than a mama who’s always there for you.

  “How’s your daddy doin’?” Ginny asked. Ginny, Carla and I were in the diner’s kitchen whipping up more stock for Peachy Keen. A couple weeks had passed since Travis’s death, and things around Cays Mill had finally slipped back into a somewhat normal cadence.

  “Daddy’s doing just fine,” I said. “He just had a follow-up appointment this morning. Those stents they put in must be doing the trick. Old Doc Harris told Daddy that his ticker sounded like the heart of a twenty-year-old.”

  “Oh boy,” Ginny said. “Your mama better watch out. He’ll be chasing her ’round the house.”

  We laughed. “Actually, believe it or not, Mama and Daddy are talking about spending the winters down in Florida. One of Mama’s sisters is down there.”

  Ginny raised a brow. “Oh yeah? How do you feel about that?”

  I shrugged. “A little sad. But I know it would the best thing for Daddy. I don’t think he’ll be able to fully rest at the farm. Already, he’s talking about working on projects around the place. Not much, he says, just a little bit of this and that. But you know how he is. He can’t just do something halfway. It has to be all or nothing.”

  Ginny snickered. “Hmm. Kind of like someone else we know, huh?” She looked at Carla, who grinned as well. I shot them a look, which Ginny waved off with another laugh. “Hey, come over and taste this.”

  I did a quick double check of my pressure cooker before crossing over to the stove, where she held up a spoonful of gooey chocolate from Carla’s latest batch. I took a taste, rolling my eyes with delight. “Oh, Carla! This is simply your best batch yet!” For the past week, she’d been experimenting with adding peach extract and finely chopped local pecans to her chocolate. Today, she’d finally hit on just the right combination. The slight, fruity undercurrent of sweet peach, combined with the slight crunch of locally grown pecans, paired perfectly with the smooth, rich chocolate.