Stunned, Maggie said, “Your brother hit you in the head with a brick?”
“Yeah. He hit me too hard, though. He was only supposed to hit me a little bit, just enough. And then I was going to go inside the store holding my head and complaining that somebody attacked me.”
Maggie wondered what constituted hitting someone “just enough” with a brick. But she had to hand it to G.L. The hit itself hadn’t made his brother bleed. She could feel a headache forming, so she rubbed the area between her eyes.
“You feeling okay, Maggie?” W.L. asked. “You look a little peekid.”
Maggie smiled at the use of one of her dad’s favorite words. “W.L., why don’t we start at the beginning?”
“What’s the beginning?”
“The poaching.”
W.L. nodded his head. “Well, I ain’t had steady work since the car wash closed.”
Wondering where this was going, Maggie asked, “Which car wash?”
“The one off the four-lane.”
Maggie knew the car wash he was talking about. On occasion, if the rain came down for days on end or if the winter salt clung to her car, she’d run her car through one of those automatic car washes. But she had never used the one W.L. had worked at. She considered it too expensive.
“It was a real good job. I washed and dried cars all day and didn’t have to work on days like Thanksgiving or Christmas or when it rained or snowed. And just about everybody gave me a real good tip. But they closed down cause of … now, let me think about it. What was the word they used? It was real long. Mis, mis –”
“Mismanagement?” Maggie said.
“That was it,” he slapped his knee. “They closed it down cause of the owner’s mismanagement. At least that’s what I heard. There was talk that somebody else was going to open it back up, but that ain’t happened yet.”
He paused and Maggie nodded, thinking he would pick up the story. When he didn’t, she said, “So, what does this have to do with poaching?”
“I didn’t have no job and Mom said all the deer meat was gone. The freezer was empty. I didn’t see no point in spending money I didn’t have on food with all those deers jumping around, so I shot one of them. I still don’t understand what I done wrong.”
“No one explained it to you?” When W.L. shook his head, Maggie said, “The reason you can’t shoot deer all year long is so they can breed. If they didn’t have a chance to add to the herd, soon there would be no deer jumping around. That’s why you can only kill doe for a few weeks a year. They have the babies.”
He said, “Hmm,” crooked his head, and stared at the blank wall in front of him. Although Maggie hated to make him concentrate, she enjoyed seeing an expression of understanding cover his face, “That makes sense.”
“What happened when you took the deer to Curtis?”
“I messed up big time there, but I didn’t know Jay would throw a fit. I never had no problem taking deer to Curtis before. I’d take them to him and give him some steaks and he wouldn’t charge me too much.”
“These other deer you took to Curtis, were they killed during season?”
“Some of them, but I ain’t never had no license, so I guess it don’t matter.”
“Really?” Maggie leaned forward. “You mean Curtis took the deer knowing you didn’t have a license?”
“He had to know. I never had no ticket to show him.”
Curtis Moore, you’re such a liar, Maggie thought. “I guess Jay didn’t know about your arrangement with Curtis.”
“I guess not. He threw his fit and told me to take my illegal deer and get out of there. Curtis followed me outside and he said to me, ‘I told you not to bring no deer around here if Jay was here.’ And I said, ‘You ain’t never told me that.’ And he said, ‘It must have been your idiot brother I told.’ That went all over me, him talking about G.L. like that, but I didn’t say nothing back to Curtis on account of him having such a bad temper and being so big. He could squash me like a bug. So, I turned around and come home. I tried to dress the deer myself, but I couldn’t figure out what to do. And the next day, before I could figure out what to do with it, the game warden showed up. That was all she wrote for me.”
“Do you think Jay reported you?”
“At first, I did. I heard about Curtis firing him the day I was there and that the game warden went to Curtis’ shop. It just made sense to me. Jay was trying to get revenge on Curtis, that’s what’s I thought. But Jay never reported us. I know that for a fact.”
Literally sitting on the edge of the couch, Maggie asked, “How can you be so sure?”
“Cause G.L. turned us in.”
“Uh, what, um, how …,” try as she might, Maggie could not form a complete sentence.
“G.L. got himself arrested last winter. Him and one of his buddies broke in on an old man and woman. I still can’t believe he’d do something like that. It just ain’t right, hurting old people. G.L. said he got sick to his stomach when his buddy hit the old man and made him bleed, and I told him it was good enough for him. You know, he told me he got sick the night he hit me, too. When he hit me with that brick, he didn’t expect me to fall on the ground. But I did and he turned me around and that’s when he saw that blood on my face. He run away and puked in a ditch.”
W.L. quit speaking and stared at Maggie, who said, “So, why did he report you to the game warden?”
“Oh, when Curtis turned me away, I called G.L. and asked him to help with the deer. He got to thinking that he could use that to get himself out of trouble. His lawyer had told him the judge would go easier on him if he told them about other crimes.” W.L. shook his head. “It didn’t do him no good, though. They told him they wanted to know about stealing crimes, not poaching crimes. He ended up taking one of those deals and pulled a couple months in jail. He’s still on probation. So, all it did was get me in trouble with the law, too. And you wouldn’t believe the fine I paid.”
Maggie couldn’t imagine any scenario that involved Mark braining her with a brick or ratting her out to the police in hopes of cutting a better deal for himself. What’s more, although she was sure it had nothing to do with the case, she couldn’t keep from asking, “How did you pay the fine?”
“My aunt paid it for me. She used the money she was saving up to buy a washer and dryer. She got the dryer fixed but the washer done give out on her. She’s hauling her dirty clothes to the laundry mat. I’ve been helping her. I figure it’s the least I can do. That’s one of the reasons I was trying to teach myself how to fix stuff. I thought I could fix her washer, but I had to stop studying cause I can’t concentrate right now. I didn’t tell you about her washer the first time you come here. I’m sorry about keeping that from you, too.” W.L. uncrossed his feet, sat up, and rested his elbows on his knees. “I guess you understand everything now.”
“No. No, I do not,” Maggie answered. “I fail to see how any of this ends with your brother bashing in your skull with a brick.”
W.L. frowned. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, Maggie. You seem like a smart lady, but it’s clear as day. He felt bad for turning me in and wanted to make it up to me. I told you, I was afraid the law would blame me. They’d think I hurt Jay to get revenge on him for calling the game warden on me.”
Maggie finally grasped the logic of the brothers Murphys’ plan. She couldn’t decide if it was so stupid it was brilliant or so brilliant it was stupid. “Ah, I see. You wanted to make everyone believe you were also a victim.”
“That’s the absolute truth. Besides, I have to protect myself and my brother. The police don’t know that I know Jay didn’t report me. And Curtis don’t know that, neither. If I tell the truth, then Curtis will come after G.L.”
“How can you be so sure about that?” Maggie asked.
“Cause he already got rid of Jay.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Just as she had done the day with Sylvie, Maggie followed up a visit at W.L.’s with a stop at Curtis Moore’s bu
tcher shop. She wished Sylvie were with her today. Curtis would have intimidated her if she passed by him at the store. The thought of accusing him of breaking the law by dressing poached deer and suggesting that he may have caused harm to Jay downright frightened her. Be that as it may, she summoned the courage to get out of the car and knock on the door to the shop.
She had just identified the hair band song that vibrated on the other side of the door as “Pour Some Sugar on Me” when Curtis opened the door.
“What do you want?” he demanded.
“Just to, uh, ask you a few questions,” Maggie stammered.
“I’ve already wasted enough time on you.” Looking past Maggie, he asked, “Where’s the old lady?”
“She couldn’t make it today, but she sends her love.”
Maggie saw the edges of Curtis’ mouth turn slightly upward into a smile. He recovered quickly and resumed scowling. “I’m busy. I’m taking off for Christmas. I need to get this place cleaned so I can get home. My girl’s bringing my grandbabies to the house.”
Curtis turned and walked away. He didn’t slam the door in her face, which Maggie interpreted as an invitation to come inside. She stepped into the shop, imagining Curtis drinking his morning coffee out of a mug that proclaimed “World’s Greatest Grandpa.” She cleared her throat and said, “I can talk to you while you work.”
He threw a glance her way from across his shoulder. “You can talk all you want. That don’t mean I’ll talk back.”
The idea of confronting Curtis wasn’t the only reason Maggie hadn’t looked forward to entering the butcher shop. She had conjured up visions of meat hanging from hooks and bloody knives covering shelves. Hooks did hang from the ceiling and knives lay on the shelves. But there was no blood to be seen. Instead of raw meat, the smell of bleach and other cleaning solutions overwhelmed her.
“This shop is as clean as my mom’s kitchen,” she said to Curtis, who scrubbed a grinder with a soapy sponge. When he failed to respond, she decided to cut to the chase. “So, I’ve heard the deer W.L. Murphy brought here back in the spring wasn’t the first poached deer you had accepted.”
Without pausing from his cleaning or looking at her, Curtis said, “I didn’t accept W.L.’s deer.”
Semantics, you win again, Maggie thought. “What about other poached deer W.L. or other customers brought here? Did you dress them?”
Curtis dropped the grinder into the sink, which produced a thud that made Maggie jump. He grabbed a rag and wiped off his hands before addressing her. “What’s this about?”
“What do you think this is about? Jay Harris. Did you do something to punish him for turning you in to the game warden?”
“Like I told you the last time you was here, I didn’t have nothing to do with Jay taking off.”
“Yeah, you also told me you didn’t take illegal deer, either, and now I know that’s not the truth. Why should I believe anything you say? Why should the police believe you?”
Curtis’ hard eyes settled on Maggie before darting back and forth over the shop. He tossed the rag onto a shelf and crossed his arms over his massive chest. “I didn’t hurt Jay. If I had seen him out, I might have. But I didn’t see him, so,” he shrugged, “nothing happened. Besides, the more I thought about it, the more I thought that Jay didn’t have nothing on me. He didn’t know nothing. The only thing he could tell the law was that I turned W.L. away. But I still figured we’d settle up someday. I guess somebody beat me to it.”
“When I was here with Daddy, you said you thought Jay had gone back to Indiana. So, are you saying you don’t believe that?”
“I don’t know where he is or what happened to him, but I do know that boy was headed for trouble.”
“How so?”
“He was keeping time with at least three girls.”
“Did he tell you this?”
“Didn’t have to. They texted and called all the time. He had a different ring tone for every one of them. I didn’t know their names, but from the way he talked to her, I think at least one of them was married.”
“Did you talk to him about this?”
“Nope.” Curtis uncrossed his arms, put them to his side, and grasped the edge of the sink. “I take that back. One time, I said to him, ‘Boy, you’re playing with fire.’ He laughed and said, ‘I like it hot.’”
With “Wanted Dead or Alive,” blaring in her ears, Maggie stood in the middle of the shop and organized Curtis’ revelations in her mind. Before she could ask another question, he said, “Instead of wasting your time on me, you should talk to his girlfriends, especially that one.”
“Which one?” Maggie asked.
“The one that showed up here one morning looking for Jay.” Curtis half-turned toward the sink before stopping. “You know, come to think about it, she showed up here a day or two before the police come around asking me about Jay.”
Maggie mustered a great deal of self-control to keep from rolling her eyes. “That seems awfully convenient. Did you tell the police about this?”
Scowling, Curtis said, “I don’t know if told them or not. But she was here. She was a little thing. I heard a car drive up and looked out to see her sitting out there. We’re in the head of nowhere, and I don’t get too many people just dropping by. I walked out there and asked her what she wanted. She said she was looking for Jay. I told her he didn’t work here no more. She seemed kinda surprised by that, but she nodded and drove off.” Just as Maggie was about to ask him to guess this alleged female’s age, he added, “She kept her hands on the steering wheel and I’ll never forget her nail polish. I don’t usually notice stuff like that, but I’ve had that on my mind. Why would a girl wear two different colors of nail polish? And I don’t know much about that stuff, but they both looked like purple to me.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The community college had closed for the semester, so Maggie met Sydney in a fast-food restaurant that specialized in Italian fare.
“I was so happy when you called,” Sydney said.
“Really?”
“You got me out of helping my mom. By the time I get home, the fudge will be cooled and ready to cut, the dishes will be washed, and the living room will be dusted.” Sydney stirred her soda with a straw. “You said you had something to tell me about Jay.”
“Yeah, about that.” Maggie consumed half a meatball, took a second to savor the taste, and said, “The first thing I want to do is thank you for the tip about the guy with initials. That was a big help.”
“It was?” Sydney abandoned the slice of pizza she had been picking at and sat up straight in her chair. “Did you find him? Did he hurt my Jay?”
“I did find him, but I don’t think he had anything to do with Jay’s disappearance.” Or maybe I’m fooling myself, Maggie thought. Maybe I’m overlooking him because I feel sorry for him. And because he used the word peaked.
Sydney picked a pepperoni from the pizza. As she placed it in her mouth, Maggie noticed that her fingernails were not painted. “Not that I don’t appreciate the chance to get out of baking and cleaning,” Sydney said, “but what’s this about then?”
“Well, it’s about Jay – and you.”
“Me and Jay? About our relationship?”
“Not exactly. It’s more about what happened after you broke up with him.” Maggie scooted what was left of her bowl of spaghetti out of the way. “Sydney, several people have described your actions following the breakup as stalking.”
Sydney picked up another pepperoni and crumpled it in her hands. “Who’s saying these things about me?”
“A lot of people. Gina, Jay’s co-workers at the funeral home, Curtis at the butcher shop, Jay’s pappaw. He said you came to his house looking for Jay the day he disappeared. And I’ve seen all your Facebook posts about Jay.”
“So I talk about Jay on Facebook. Is that a crime? He was my boyfriend. I know he,” she whispered, “cheated on me with that fattie Gina, but things were never settled between us. We never go
t,” she paused, “closure.”
“I know that, and the way you’re feeling is understandable. It’s a tough lesson to learn, but you’ll realize as you get older that we rarely have a chance to say goodbye. Closure is more of a myth than a reality.”
“Is that why you wanted to talk to me today? To tell me something I could hear on Dr. Phil?”
Maggie tried to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. She tried to make concessions for bad attitudes and bad moods. She knew nobody ever really understood the internal and external demons others faced. But she had to admit to herself that Sydney tap danced all over her nerves. She took a moment to enjoy another bite of spaghetti and to compose herself before continuing. “Okay, Sydney, let’s go back to May. I reviewed your Facebook history. You’re on there quite often. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, but in the days after Jay went missing, you didn’t post anything.”
“Oh, I guess that’s a crime, too,” Sydney screeched so loudly that she aroused the attention of a family of four in a booth across the restaurant.
“No, it’s not a crime, but considering your posting history, it’s something of interest. Especially when you factor in your unspoken prayer request.”
“Oh, my God.” This time, Sydney’s shrieks grabbed the attention of more than the family of four. Everyone in the restaurant, including the employees behind the counter, twisted their heads to get a better look at the agitated young woman with wild eyes. “I just wanted to know why he didn’t try to get me back. That’s all. That’s what I asked God in my prayers. That’s why I called Jay. That’s why I went to his house and his work.”
“Sydney,” Maggie said in a soothing voice, “please calm down. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay.” Sydney grabbed the barely-eaten pizza and flung it onto the floor. “Everybody’s going to know now. Everybody’s going to know.”
Murder on Calf Lick Fork Page 13
