“Oh, she ain’t coming here. I reckon my brother’s going to pick me up after while.”
“You take care of yourself, W.L.”
Maggie had reached the door when W.L. said, “Thank you.”
When she turned to say, “You’re welcome,” she thought he looked like the saddest little boy she’d ever seen.
Chapter Twenty
Maggie rolled the cookie dough into perfectly round balls and placed them on a baking sheet. Although she enjoyed baking, this particular chore wasn’t her favorite part of the endeavor. It left her fingers sticky and covered with dough. She dared not voice her complaints, though. It was she who had convinced Lena to bake a practice batch of the cookies.
“I think we should make sure we haven’t lost our touch,” she had said to Lena a few days earlier.
Unmoved, Lena had responded, “You’ve waited almost a year for a nut puff, it won’t kill you to wait a couple more weeks.”
Changing tactics, Maggie had said, “Everybody loves the cookies, but Daddy and I eat so many of them that we never have enough to share. If we make an extra batch, I could take some to work and we could give some to Sylvie. She does give us fruitcake every year. It seems only right to return the favor. And, let me see, we could give some to Aunt –”
“Okay, okay,” Lena had relented. “We’ll make a batch this weekend.”
After finishing their customary Saturday morning breakfast, Robert washed dishes and the women made the cookies, a modified version of Danish or Russian wedding cookies, with walnuts instead of pecans, that Maggie and her family called nut puffs. As Maggie washed her hands and switched from rolling dough to rolling the freshly-baked cookies in powdered sugar, a memory of Seth standing in that kitchen and sampling a nut puff flashed into her mind.
“Mmm,” he had moaned as he made one cookie after another disappear.
The sound of Andy Williams crooning “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year” brought her back to the present. Maggie knew Seth and his family wouldn’t enjoy a wonderful time this Christmas season. Seth would never again dig into his mom’s fruit salad or receive a thoughtful Christmas card from her that included a handwritten note expressing pride in her only son. While I’m anticipating all the joy the holiday brings, Maggie thought to herself, they’re trying to make it through the day and looking forward to the turn of the calendar from December to January.
“Maggie!”
Maggie jumped. “Gosh, Daddy, you didn’t have to holler at me.”
“I reckon I did. Your mother has been trying to get your attention. She even wadded up a paper towel and threw it at you. It landed smack in the middle of the bowl of powdered sugar, but you kept rolling that one cookie over and over.”
Maggie finally noticed the paper towel, which had grazed her hand, as well as a nut puff covered in an avalanche of powdered sugar. “Did you want something, Mom?”
“Yeah, I wanted to know why you were rolling that cookie to death, but you were off in la-la land.”
“You were thinking about those boys, the one that’s gone and the one that was attacked the other night, weren’t you?” Robert said. “Do you think one person is after both of them? Do you think it could be one of those killers like Al Bundy?”
Maggie smiled at Robert’s malapropism. She could always count on her daddy to pull her out of her doldrums. “No, Daddy, I don’t think it’s a serial killer. However, W.L.’s assault could be linked to Jay’s disappearance. Or W.L. could have been the victim of a robbery. His wallet is missing.”
“From what Sylvie says, that boy doesn’t have anything anybody would want,” Lena said. “She said she’d tackle cleaning that trailer of his if she was twenty years younger.”
“It was messy and cluttered,” Maggie said. “But it’s not our place to tell people how to live.”
Lena turned her big brown eyes toward the ceiling. “Well, see if it’s your place to check on those cookies in the oven.”
Maggie pulled the baking sheet from the oven and used an egg turner to lift a cookie. “It’s not brown enough. I’ll put it back in the oven for a minute.”
“Don’t let them burn.” Robert made a face. “You eat something burned and the taste stays in your mouth all day. It ruins the next thing you eat.” Making another face, he said, “I don’t like burned food.”
“I don’t want to ruin your supper, Daddy, so I’ll watch the clock,” Maggie said. And she did. Exactly one minute later, she again checked the cookies, which had baked to a golden satisfaction. Returning to the chore of rolling cookies in powdered sugar, she asked, “Daddy, would you describe Curtis Moore as honest?”
Robert munched on a cookie and wrinkled his forehead. “I don’t rightly know. I’ve never studied on it before. He has the illest tone of any man around. I know that much.”
“Sylvie sure had him cowed,” Maggie said. “It was refreshing to see somebody stand up to a bully like Curtis. But I don’t know if I can trust what he’s telling me. Heck, I know he’s already lied to me. But Steve Fletcher said you could count on him not to steal from his customers.”
“That’s true,” Robert said. “But that would be more like thieving, and thieving and lying ain’t the same thing.”
Lena disagreed with Robert’s distinction between stealing and lying. As they launched into a loud debate on the matter, Maggie realized she could no longer resist. She bit into one of the soft, warm cookies and let it all but crumble in her mouth. She considered the first nut puff of the year to be the best nut puff of the year. Then again, she also thought the cookies only got better as they aged. Maybe the last nut puff of the year was actually the best. She deliberated the matter internally as she helped finish baking cookies. Later, after she and her parents had cleaned the kitchen and cheered the University of Kentucky’s men’s basketball team to victory and as darkness descended over the mountains, she prepared for her departure, filling two old Cool Whip bowls full of nut puffs – one for Luke and one for Seth.
Chapter Twenty-One
Seth’s appearance at his dad’s front door left Maggie unable to speak or move.
“Hey, Maggie,” Seth said. “I didn’t expect to see you standing there.” When Maggie didn’t answer, he asked, “Are you okay? You look dazed. Should I ask you to walk a straight line and recite the alphabet?”
“Huh?”
“It was a joke, you know, about a sobriety test.” Seth shrugged and moved aside. “Come on in.”
Maggie hesitated. She had brought the nut puffs to the elder Mr. Heyward’s house with the intention of checking on him and asking him to pass along the cookies to Seth. But Seth’s presence nullified those plans. Not knowing what to do, she remained on the porch.
Seth leaned over the threshold. “In all seriousness, Maggie, are you ill?”
“I didn’t know you’d be here.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I understand.”
No, you don’t, Maggie thought as she stepped into the house and brushed by him. As he closed the door and followed her into the living room, she asked, “How is your dad?”
Motioning for Maggie to take a seat, Seth said, “He’s doing as good as can be expected. He’s at my aunt and uncle’s right now. He asked me to go with him, but I needed some time alone.”
“Oh, I won’t stay long.” Maggie handed him the container of cookies. “Mom and I made these yesterday.”
When Seth saw the Cool Whip bowl, he smiled and said, “What is that? Hillbilly Tupperware?”
“Mom has dozens of those bowls. Every time you open one of her kitchen cabinets, they fall out and hit you on the head. It’s not safe, so I figured we should do something with them. Besides, when you bring food in a Cool Whip bowl, the recipient doesn’t have to worry about returning it.” She didn’t share with him that she’d decided against packing the cookies into one of the gingerbread men tins she had received from Edie. She didn’t think he needed a reminder of happier holiday times.
Lifting th
e bowl’s lid, Seth said, “I appreciate the practicality.” When his eyes settled on the cookies, he winced.
It was not the reaction Maggie had expected. “Do you no longer like nut puffs? Or have you developed an allergy to nuts? Are you going to break out in hives just from touching the bowl or smelling the cookies?”
“It’s all right, Maggie, I’m not allergic to nuts.” Seth selected a cookie, bit into it, and moaned. “Just as good as I remember.” After he finished that cookie, he started on another one. “If I hadn’t been here, would you have just left them with Dad?”
“Well, yeah, but I would have asked him to share them with you.”
“Dad’s a generous man, but I’m not sure I’d trust him to share a bowl of cookies. By the time I would have heard about them, there would have been nothing left but crumbs and a little powdered sugar.” Polishing off the nut puff, he said, “I guess it’s a good thing I’m staying with him for a while.”
“You’re probably good company for each other, and I’d say he is lonesome.”
Seth placed the lid on the bowl. “That’s true, but it’s more than that. Dad has never spent a night by himself. When Mom was in the hospital having us, he stayed with Mammaw and Pappaw. When she was sick and in the hospital, he spent every night with her. We couldn’t get him to come home.”
Seth held the bowl in both hands and squeezed the sides with his fingers. “I’m also staying here for practical purposes. Mom took care of the banking and paid all the bills. We’re having to teach him how to write checks and keep a checkbook. And cook. Yesterday morning, we made biscuits and gravy. They weren’t as good as Mom’s, but they were edible. Dad’s still a hard worker and he’s always made repairs around the house, but he can’t take care of himself. My sisters have their families, so I’m staying with him until he can fend for himself.” He sighed. “I guess this just proves you shouldn’t be too dependent on anyone.”
A solemn silence enveloped the room. Maggie had decided to leave when Seth said, “I heard about W.L. Murphy’s assault.” Maggie sat back on the couch and, with little prodding from Seth, shared her knowledge of the crime, the details of her visits to the ER and W.L.’s hospital room, and her fear that her snooping had led to the attack.
“You can’t blame yourself,” Seth said. “This could be an unrelated crime.”
“I know, but it would be one heck of a coincidence. Besides, when Sylvie and I talked to W.L. at his trailer, we couldn’t help but feel that he was holding back and not telling us the entire story.”
“Sylvie? The seamstress from Sugar Creek who bought insurance from Mac Honaker and sewed for Hazel Baker? Why were the two of you at W.L.’s trailer? Never mind. I don’t want to know the details. So, do you think W.L. had something to do with Jay Harris’ disappearance?”
“It could just be that he saw or heard something. Even though I know about the poaching, it’s hard for me to imagine W.L. involved in any criminal activity. He seems so …”
“Slow?”
Maggie nodded. “Do you think it’s an act?”
“I barely know him. I only met him once. He came with their aunt to bail G.L. out of jail. I spoke to them briefly and W.L. seems genuine. By appearances, he doesn’t seem like the type of person who could be violent. But –”
“Neither does his brother.”
Seth chuckled. “Do you know the whole family?”
“Just the brothers. I met G.L. at the ER. He seems just as,” Maggie sighed, “slow as W.L., but you said he broke into a house and knocked around an elderly couple.”
“That’s right. You can be slow and dangerous.”
“If W.L. was attacked because he’s kept something about Jay’s disappearance to himself, then I guess it can also be dangerous to be slow.”
Maggie and Luke snuggled on his living room sofa, watching his favorite Christmas movie, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. Although Maggie had seen the movie several times, experiencing it with Luke was almost like watching it for the first time. He started grinning as soon as the movie started. Before every pivotal scene, he said, “Watch this. Watch what happens here.”
At the movie’s end, Luke switched the TV to a football game and said, “I think Christmas Vacation has a lot in common with It’s a Wonderful Life.” When Maggie tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, he explained, “Both movies are about men who go out of their way to make sure their families are happy.”
“That’s so sweet.” Maggie smiled, put her hands on his face and kissed him.
As he held her, Luke whispered, “No, you’re the sweet one for sitting through a movie you’ve seen countless times and bringing me cookies.” At the mention of the nut puffs, Maggie’s muscles tensed. “What’s wrong?” Luke asked.
Maggie pulled away from him and said, “Yeah, about those cookies … I dropped off a bowl at Seth’s dad’s house. And Seth was there.”
Luke slipped his arm from behind Maggie’s shoulders and sat forward on the couch with his hands together and his eyes fixed on the TV. The couple sat inches apart from each other without speaking as the sounds of the football game filled the room. When Maggie could no longer endure Luke’s silence, she said, “Just say whatever you’re thinking.”
Without taking his eyes off the TV, he asked, “Was his dad there?”
“Actually, he wasn’t, but I didn’t know that until I got there. I didn’t even know Seth would be there. I had no idea he was staying with his dad.”
When Luke looked at Maggie, she noticed he was no longer grinning. “Does that make it okay?”
“It’s just a bowl of cookies, Luke. I hoped to bring some holiday spirit to them.”
“And why is that up to you? Why do you need to make things better for them?”
“I don’t need to, but I wanted to. Listen, I’ve never experienced a loss of that magnitude, but I realize the grief must be unbearable. Except that they have to bear it. There’s no alternative. And I’m sure the holidays are only making it worse. So, if some cookies can make it better for them and give them a moment or two of joy, then what’s the harm?”
“What’s the harm? He’s your recently-divorced ex-fiancé. You know, going to the church services was one thing. From what you said, you were close to his mom. So, I understood that. But this, I don’t understand. If you had wanted to bring them a moment of holiday joy, you should have asked your dad to drop off the cookies. You’re insinuating yourself into the lives of Seth and his family and, frankly, I’m getting tired of it. You need to make a choice, Maggie. Me or Seth.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Luke’s ultimatum left Maggie shaken. Usually a sound sleeper, she tossed and turned at night and spent her days in a sleep-deprived state. Although she and Luke still spoke on the phone, their conversations contained only cursory comments and questions about their daily activities and their dogs. Maggie tried to unload her worries on Edie, but her friend seemed distracted and anxious, so Maggie decided to suffer in silence for the time being and focus on finalizing Christmas preparations and finding Jay. Wrapping presents and reviewing her case notes failed to serve as distractions. Indeed, every time she tried to concentrate on the case, her mind drifted to thoughts of Luke and her ill-fated decision to share cookies with the Heyward family. After two days, she decided to quit moping and do something constructive, so she asked Tyler to retrieve the police reports pertaining to W.L.’s assault and his arrest for poaching.
Tyler was all too happy to fulfill Maggie’s request. She suspected his cooperation had less to do with wanting to help her and more to do with wanting to annoy Joe, who was on record stating his unease with Maggie’s sleuthing. When Tyler returned from the courthouse, he walked to her desk and said in a booming voice, “Here are those police reports you wanted. I hope they help you solve the case. Let me know if I can be of further assistance.”
Maggie expressed her thanks and instinctively stole a look into Joe’s office and saw his steely gaze trained on Tyler. Five hours later
, Maggie sat in her living room with Barnaby at her side and the police reports in her lap as a pop star crooned Christmas songs to her from the TV. While scratching Barnaby’s head with one hand, she leafed through W.L.’s arrest report. She had hoped it would include the name of the person who reported the crime, but the caller had remained anonymous.
“I wonder how W.L. paid the fine?” Maggie thought aloud. “From the looks of his trailer, he doesn’t have much disposable income.”
The report contained nothing Maggie could connect to Jay’s disappearance or W.L.’s attack, so she set it aside and opened the second report. She had just started reading when the phone rang. Hoping it was Luke, she picked up on the first ring without checking the I.D. and said “Hello” in a tone that merged cheerfulness with anxiety.
“Yello, is this Maggie? Maggie Morgan?”
“Yes.”
“This is Gentry Harris. The police just called me. I thought you’d want to know that they found Jay’s cell phone.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Maggie absorbed the barrage of complaints from Gina without offering so much as a rebuttal. That is, she did until Gina stomped her foot and said, “All of this is your fault.”
“My fault?” Maggie snapped. “How is it my fault that you’ve had Jay’s cell phone for seven months? How is it my fault that your kid found that phone and played with it?”
The two women faced off in the Sentinel’s pressroom. Gina’s unexpected appearance at the office had delighted Maggie, who hadn’t allowed herself to hope that Gina would seek her out. But Gina’s stormy countenance quickly informed Maggie that she had not come by to exchange secret Santa presents.
Murder on Calf Lick Fork Page 10
