Murder on Calf Lick Fork

by Michelle Goff

  “So, uh, Curtis, I’ve heard that some sort of trouble occurred between W.L. and Jay Harris.”

  Curtis held the spit cup to his mouth and spat ever-so-lightly into it. “Not to my knowledge.”

  “What about W.L.’s arrest for poaching? What can you tell me about that?”

  Curtis wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his flannel jacket and said, “If you want to know about that, you should ask W.L.”

  “Oh, I did, but I’d like to hear your version of events.”

  “My version. I don’t have no version.” Curtis spat into the cup again and stared at Maggie. “What did W.L. tell you anyway?”

  She couldn’t tell Curtis the truth, that W.L. hadn’t acknowledged the poaching accusation. But she couldn’t lie to him, either. “Let’s just say it wasn’t what he said. It’s what he didn’t say.”

  Curtis flung the spit cup to the ground and cursed. Maggie expected Sylvie to dispense another lecture on fine manners and etiquette, but she remained silent. Squishing the spit cup and its contents with his bloody work boot, Curtis said, “W.L. and Jay didn’t exactly have words. You don’t have words with somebody as stupid as W.L. But he showed up with a doe last spring –”

  “Out of deer season?” Maggie asked.

  Curtis nodded. “Before I even had the chance to tell W.L. that I don’t cut deer out of season, especially a doe, Jay jumped all over it. He started going on about how the game warden would shut us down if he caught us cutting a deer without tags. I looked at him and said, ‘Us?’ That went all over me.” Raising his voice, Curtis repeatedly stabbed his chest with a forefinger and said, “This is my shop. It wasn’t Jay’s. It wasn’t his place to tell W.L. nothing. That’s why I fired him and I didn’t wait for W.L. to leave, neither. I kicked Jay out of here before I even told W.L. to hit the road and take that doe with him.”

  “But when I was here earlier with Daddy, you said –”

  “What did you expect me to say?” Curtis demanded. “That I fired Jay a week before he took off? I know how things work.” He picked up the discarded and splintered spit cup and attempted to deposit his wad of tobacco into it. When he didn’t succeed, he flung the cup and tobacco into the creek. Maggie heard Sylvie sigh at her side. “I wasn’t about to give them a reason to think I did something to him.”

  Maggie narrowed her eyes and considered what Curtis was saying. She didn’t have a chance to put words to her thoughts, though. Sylvie beat her to it. “Now, that don’t make no sense,” Sylvie said. “If you fired him, why would anybody accuse you of hurting him? He should have been the one mad at you. He’s the one that lost his job. No, that don’t sound right. There must be something you ain’t telling us.”

  Maggie heard Curtis’ heavy breathing and saw his expansive chest draw in breath and release it. “Curtis,” she said, “how did the authorities find out about the poaching? Did Jay report W.L.?”

  He shook his head, but said, “Probably. I don’t know. I never saw Jay again after the day I fired him. But the next day, the game warden stopped by and made a surprise inspection of the shop. So, you figure it out.” Curtis wiped his mouth again and said, “I gotta get back to work.”

  Curtis didn’t make an effort to move until Maggie and Sylvie had almost reached the car. As he opened the door to his shop, Sylvie hollered to him, “Hey, do you think that little ole W.L. could have hurt Jay?”

  Curtis grinned. “W.L.’s stronger than he looks, but he’s too stupid to hurt anybody.”

  Sylvie nodded, climbed into the car, and ordered Maggie to crank up the heat. “I’m an old woman, Maggie. I can’t take the cold like I used to.”

  “I’m sorry, Sylvie.”

  “There ain’t no call to apologize. I followed my own mind. I knowed it was cold, but I wasn’t about to leave you alone with him. Something ain’t adding up with his story. For all we know, he could be a cold-blooded killer.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The day after visiting W.L. Murphy and Curtis Moore, Maggie spirited away with Luke for a three-day weekend of shopping in Lexington. The mini-vacation afforded Maggie the opportunity to hang out with Luke’s family, to take a break from the Jay Harris investigation, and to spend quality time with Luke. She had feared he’d have a less than favorable reaction to learning she had chatted with Seth about the case. But when she told him, he sighed and said, “Okay.”

  After a weekend Maggie considered splendid, they made their way back along the roadway that connected central Kentucky to the eastern part of the state. A wave of happiness suddenly swept over her. Wanting to share the blissful feeling, she turned her gaze upon Luke, but was troubled by the scowl on his face.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I hate this drive,” he answered. “It’s the thing I hate most about living in Jasper. It’s so boring. It’s just lines of trees for as far as you can see.”

  Although Luke wasn’t the first person Maggie had heard complain of boring drives, she had never understood the expression. What did people expect or want from a drive? Neon road signs? Bears dancing along the side of the road? Squirrels racing among the trees? She’d settle for an expansion of the road from two lanes to four or, at the very least, more passing lanes. But she was in too good of a mood to voice her qualms with complaining drivers. Instead, she put her hand on Luke’s and said, “This weekend was great for me.”

  “Good. You needed to get away from all the demands you place on yourself.”

  Letting go of his hand, she asked, “What does that mean?”

  Shrugging, Luke said, “I’ve noticed a difference in you since you started looking for that boy.”

  With her blissful mood evaporating faster than water in a hot skillet, Maggie asked, “How so? And, by the way, his name is Jay.”

  Luke took his eyes off the road and glanced at her. “Maggie, please don’t make a big deal out of this.”

  “I’m not making a big deal. But I want to hear more about these differences you’ve noticed.”

  “I guess we’re going to do this.” Luke paused, but when Maggie didn’t respond, he continued, “First of all, you haven’t been eating very healthy. You’ve been eating more sweets and fattier foods.”

  “I spent a weekend in Lexington. Of course I’m going to take advantage of the vaster and more varied selection of restaurants.”

  “I wasn’t talking about this weekend. I was talking about your eating habits of late. And if you ask me, you should have lived it up more this weekend, but you more or less settled for salads and grilled chicken and fish. When you did give in to temptation, you utilized portion control.”

  “When did you start watching what I eat?”

  “I’m not watching, but I can’t help but notice. It’s right in front of me.”

  As the hills flew past them, Maggie reviewed her food choices. She had gained weight during the Mac Honaker and Hazel Baker investigations and, over the weekend, she had noticed that her clothes were less roomy than before. She recalled the smothered chicken and chocolate cheesecake she had inhaled the evening after she talked to W.L. and Curtis and realized Luke wasn’t entirely wrong.

  “Okay, maybe I eat too much and too poorly when I’m on a case. I’ll give you that.”

  “Hey, I’m not judging,” Luke said. “I’m sure you noticed that pound of mac and cheese I put away.”

  Maggie smiled. “It wasn’t a pound and it was your mom’s cooking. We’re allowed to indulge when our moms make our favorite comfort foods.”

  She settled back into her seat and peered at the gray sky. She loved late fall and winter afternoons. Although most people complained of the stark landscape during this time of year, she found it comforting. But a question forming in the back of her mind prevented her from enjoying the scenery.

  Turning to Luke, she asked, “Earlier, when I asked you about the differences you’ve noticed, you said, ‘first of all’ and mentioned the food. Is there a second or third or fourth of all?”

  Groaning,
Luke said, “You’re quieter.”

  “I agree. There’s a lot on my mind.”

  “And, in general, you act out of the ordinary.”

  “I do?”

  “Yeah, come on, we’ve been through this before.”

  “Oh, I understand now.” She pivoted her head until she faced the passenger side window.

  “Maggie. Talk to me.”

  Looking back to Luke, she said, “This is about Seth, isn’t it?”

  “It’s not just about Seth, but I can’t ignore the fact that, once again, you’ve gone to him for help.”

  “That’s not the way it happened.”

  “Maggie, I’m in the car with you. There’s no need to yell.”

  Lowering her voice, Maggie said, “I did not go to him for help. He’s the detective, the only detective I might add, who looked into Jay’s disappearance. I didn’t know that when I promised you I wouldn’t ask him for help. I didn’t know Seth’s mom would die, either. I had no plans to talk to him, but the situation presented itself and, yes, I took advantage of it. Maybe it was bad form to ask him what he remembered about Jay during his mom’s services, but I don’t think she would mind. She wasn’t a petty person.”

  “Are you suggesting I’m a petty person?”

  “No,” Maggie closed her eyes and leaned her head against the car seat. “That wasn’t directed at you. I’m just trying to explain this to you. I called you that night when I got home from the church house and told you I had talked to Seth.”

  “I appreciate your honesty, but that doesn’t mean I like it.”

  Opening her eyes, she turned to face him. “Why? Why do you have such a problem with Seth? We were over years before I met you.”

  “Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s obvious. He’s not over you. And, if I’m honest with myself, there’s something else that bothers me. I want to be everything to you, but I can’t be that as long as he’s hanging around in the background, helping you solve cases.”

  Maggie didn’t know how to respond. She appreciated Luke’s desire to be the man she turned to for support, but reality dictated that he couldn’t help her solve crimes in the same way Seth could. She couldn’t share this truth with him and looked to the bleak sky for comfort. Finding none, she blinked away the tears forming in her eyes.

  Chapter Sixteen

  In spite of the chilly temperature, as soon as Maggie arrived home from her weekend in Lexington, she took Barnaby for a walk. She then visited with her parents before making the short trek back to her house where she struggled to chase the conversation with Luke from her thoughts. She tried reading and watching TV, but her mind remained in the car with Luke.

  “Oh, Barnaby,” she said while petting her most trustworthy companion, “I don’t want to hurt Luke’s feelings, but these cases are important to me. What am I going to do?”

  Maggie interpreted his answer, a heavy pant, as an indication that she needed to get back to work. So, she grabbed her notepad and the phone. Seconds after dialing, she heard Gentry Harris say, “Yello.”

  Maggie smiled and said, “Hey, Gentry, this is Maggie Morgan. I was wondering if you had a few minutes to talk.”

  “I do.” Maggie listened as the volume on the TV decreased. “I was just sitting here watching some TV. You know, I hadn’t had no TV in years until Jay come to live with me. I guess you could say I’ve got used to it again. I have it on all the time now. I think I just like the noise. Have you found out anything about Jay?”

  “I’m following a couple leads.”

  “Sylvie told me you all went around to see Curtis Moore and another feller. She said Curtis was kindly hateful. I sure am sorry about that. I don’t want you to put yourself in no dangerous situations. Next time you need to see somebody like that, you let me know and I’ll go with you.”

  “It’s nice of you to offer, but it wasn’t too bad. I had Sylvie with me. She’s like a guard dog.”

  Gentry chuckled. “I reckon she is. She don’t take no attitude, that’s for sure.”

  “Gentry, if you’ve talked to Sylvie, then I guess she told you about W.L. Murphy poaching that deer.”

  “She did. That boy ought to know you can’t go around killing deer out of season, especially a doe. But Sylvie did say he was kindly slow.”

  That’s one way of describing him, Maggie thought. “Did Jay say anything about W.L. and the deer? Did he say anything at all about any trouble with W.L. or Curtis?”

  “No. I thought he was still working for Curtis and I never heard of this W.L. feller until Sylvie spoke his name. I can’t imagine why Jay didn’t tell me Curtis had fired him. I hate to think of him keeping things from me.”

  Her conversation with Gina flashed through Maggie’s mind and she thought to herself, I doubt that’s the only thing he kept from you. “Gentry, did you know Jay had broken up with his girlfriend, Sydney?”

  “Not until Belinda told me the other day.” He fell silent for several seconds. “Belinda suspects he didn’t tell neither of us about losing his job because he didn’t want to disappoint us. She says he only told her about breaking up with that little girl because she asked him about her. She says that little girl didn’t mean nothing to him and that’s why he didn’t tell me. She thinks it didn’t even cross his mind to tell me. I’d say she’s probably right, but from the way that little girl acted, I never dreamed they weren’t together.”

  “The way she acted? What do you mean by that?” Maggie asked.

  “Well, she called here looking for him and one day she drove up. I was sitting over there at my table, eating a fried egg and Treet sandwich for breakfast, and I looked out and saw her in my driveway. I stuck my head out and hollered at her to come in, but she backed out of the driveway and drove off. I thought that was kindly odd. She didn’t even wave.”

  “When did this happen, Gentry?”

  “That’s just the thing. It was the day Jay went missing.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Maggie, Luke, Edie, and Ben stood on the sidewalk, waving to Santa Claus and his elves as their float motored down Main Street, signaling the end of the Jasper Christmas parade. When Santa passed them, Edie said, “Let’s go see if we can score some more free cider from tourism’s booth.”

  “All things considered, it’s not that cold, Edie,” Maggie said.

  “I don’t know what things you’re considering, but I’m considering my frozen toes and fingers, which I’m dangerously close to losing to hypothermia.”

  Maggie and Luke exchanged glances and rolled their eyes in unison. Neither had addressed the emotional conversation they had shared in the car, and Maggie recognized that a forced friendliness had settled between them. Still, when Santa threw candy into the festive crowd, Luke had jostled among parade-goers to retrieve a handful of sweets for Maggie. She had thanked him with a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of his shoulder.

  As they made their way toward tourism’s booth, Maggie spotted Steve and Carrie Fletcher in the crowd. “Hey,” she said to her companions, “I see somebody I know. I’ll meet you in front of tourism in a bit.”

  Maggie crossed the street and power walked to catch up to the Fletchers. When they appeared to be headed for the parking garage, she called their names. They turned their heads toward her voice and smiled when they saw her. As she approached them, Steve offered an apology. “I’m sorry for not returning your call. We had an opening and a closing today and this one,” he motioned his head toward Carrie, “didn’t come to work today. She decided this morning that our house needed one more Christmas tree.”

  “One more?” Maggie asked. “How many do you have?”

  Carrie blushed. “As of this afternoon, four.”

  “Oh,” Maggie said. “Trimming one tree wears me out. I can’t imagine decorating four.”

  “She decorates the entire house,” Steve explained while wiping his eyes and sniffling. “She creates our own winter wonderland.”

  “Are you getting a cold?” Maggie
asked Steve.

  Steve and Carrie both laughed. “No,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Parades make me cry. They always have. You can imagine how embarrassing that was when I marched in parades with my high school band.”

  “What can I say?” Carrie wrapped her arms around Steve’s waist. “I married a softie.”

  Steve blew his nose, embraced his wife, and said to Maggie, “I listened to your message, but I don’t know anybody named W.L.”

  “Neither do I,” Carrie said. “Sorry.”

  “You think he might be wrapped up in Jay’s disappearance?” Steve asked.

  Maggie related how W.L. Murphy poaching a deer had resulted in Jay losing his job.

  “Jay told me Curtis had lost his temper and fired him. Knowing Curtis, that didn’t surprise me at all. I’ve taken deer to other butchers, but there’s not one around who’s as clean or as good or as honest as Curtis. You don’t have to worry about him contaminating the meat or stealing a steak here or there from you. But,” Steve shrugged, “he’s not a people person, that’s for sure.”

  Maggie felt her cell phone vibrating in her coat pocket. Deciding it was probably Edie calling to remind her it was cold, she chose not to answer. “What about his girlfriend, Sydney? Did Jay mention any problems with her?”

  Steve shook his head, but Carrie said, “Around the time he disappeared, she started showing up at the funeral home. And, around that same time, some girl called and asked for him several times. He was there one time when she called, but he wouldn’t go to the phone. He told the receptionist to tell her he had nothing to say to her.”

  “I didn’t know about this,” Steve said. “Why didn’t you mention it?”

  “I didn’t think it meant anything,” Carrie answered her husband. Addressing Maggie, she said, “Maybe I should have said something about the calls the day you came to the funeral home, but, well, like I said, I don’t think any harm came to Jay. I wasn’t thinking about anything that happened out of the ordinary. I didn’t even remember that she had come around until just then when you asked about her.”