by Tegan Maher
The man stepped forward to get a better look. “Wow. I bet somebody’s missing that.”
“Yeah, me too,” I replied, trying to rub away some of the dirt crusted into the details.
“Flip it over,” he said. “My pops got my mom a cameo for their first wedding anniversary, and he had the back engraved. Maybe there’s a name.”
I did as he said. Sure enough, flowery script flowed across the silver. I rubbed it on my cutoffs to get the dirt off, then looked again. “To Faye. May we always be as happy as we are today – Love, Jesse.”
“Wow,” he said. “I bet somebody’s missing that.”
“Yeah, me, too,” I replied. “I’m gonna take it to the judge’s booth and see if anybody’s reported it missing.”
He cringed. “Maybe give them your name and number and tell them that if somebody wants to claim it, they have to tell you what the inscription is. The judges are all from out of town.”
“Good idea,” I said, turning toward the booth. “I sure hope whoever lost it is still around. Enjoy the rest of your day!”
“You, too. And good luck finding the owner.” The curly-haired toddler on his shoulders grabbed a handful of his dad’s hair and squealed, showing a single front tooth when he grinned. The man raised his brows and gave me a half-smile, half-cringe along with the look that only parents happily being tortured by their offspring can offer.
I went to the booth and showed them what I’d found, then gave them my name and number. I held the piece in my palm but didn’t show them the inscription. I hadn’t even made it down the stairs before the loudspeaker crackled and squealed. “If you’ve lost a necklace, we’ve found one. Come to the judge’s booth to describe it and get information on how to get it back.”
That should do it. I tucked the necklace into the unused side of the change section in my wallet and skipped down the steps, eager to congratulate Becky and Priscilla on a job well done.
Chapter 9
It was just after three o’clock when my phone rang. I’d just left the arts and crafts fair to see if the new waitress had shown up to relieve Sarah.
“Hey,” I said, sliding to answer when I saw that it was Hunter. “How goes it?”
“Not so great,” he said. “Have you heard from Mercy at all?”
“Nope,” I said. “Not since she disappeared right after it happened. Why?”
“Because we can’t find any trace that she actually exists.”
I furrowed my brow and tucked the phone between my ear and shoulder so I could balance the requested candy apples in one hand and open the door to Bobbie Sue’s with the other. “What do you mean, you can’t find any proof she actually exists?”
“I mean the ID she had in her wallet is a forgery. A damned good one, but a forgery nonetheless. There is no person by the name of Mercy McDermitt in Georgia, Kentucky, or any other state that I could find. Or at least not one that matches her age and description.”
I gave Sarah a little wave as I set my purse on the nearest booth. There were a few tables, but not as many as there had been earlier. She waved back and rolled her eyes as she pointed at the time on her phone. Apparently, the new girl had opted for the carnival rather than the paycheck. Color me surprised. I just didn’t get it. When I’d worked there, I’d picked up every shift I could, both because I needed the money and because Bobbie Sue, Earl, and Sarah were family.
I turned my attention back to Hunter. “So what now? Can’t you use her fingerprints to identify her?”
He sighed. “It’s not that easy. The only way we’d be able to match her prints is if she’s already in the system. Like if she’s been arrested or worked in a profession that requires you to be fingerprinted. We don’t just have an all-encompassing database of every set of fingerprints on the planet.”
He sounded a little snappish, but I tried not to hold it against him. His weekend was wrecked, and he had a murder on his hands. Not that losing his days off were more important than finding out who killed Mercy—or whatever her name was—but it certainly factored in.
“I’m sorry,” he said almost as soon as the thought passed through my head. “I don’t mean to be short. I’m just frustrated. It seems like every time I think I find a string to pick at, it turns out to be a piece of lint. Plus, not to sound selfish, but I was really looking forward to spending the weekend with you.”
Even though we lived together, it was often hard between his job and mine to find time to be together. Most weekends, I had to go scour auctions and estate sales for pieces I could repurpose for Reimagined. He’d been trying to take days off through the week, but it wasn’t that easy. Folks in Keyhole expected to see the sheriff in the office Monday through Friday. Otherwise, they’d have to complain to Peggy Sue, the woman who ran the front desk and most of the rest of the courthouse, about their neighbor’s stray chickens or the hussy down the street who jogged every morning in hot pants.
Peggy Sue was fine with taking the heat because she had no problem whatsoever telling people to suck it up and come back when they had a real police matter. No, it was the citizens who had the problem because, unlike Peggy Sue, Hunter listened to them and empathized with them and let them know that he cared about their plights. Then he threw them into his running “you’re not gonna believe what happened today” commentary when he got home, but of course, they didn’t know that.
And I, of course, totally believed him. I was from Keyhole Lake, so I knew for a fact that some people just didn’t have anything better to do than find things to be outraged about. For the record, I was more a Peggy Sue type.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “This all sucks, but you have your priorities straight. We’ll get it solved, then maybe we can take next weekend off. Go up to those little cabins.”
We had a little getaway place that we liked to go to. It was a cabin in the woods with nothing to do but relax, fish and swim in the lake, and spend quality time together. We often took our motorcycles and enjoyed the scenery along the twisty country roads. We didn’t get to do it often, but when we did, it was amazing.
“That sounds great,” he replied, “and thanks for understanding.”
“Pfft, there’s nothing to understand. You’re the sheriff and a girl’s dead. That’s about as simple and clear-cut as it gets. You gonna be late?”
“Probably. I want to run down a couple leads and see if I can at least figure out who she is. We did pick up a few sets of prints in Mercy’s trailer that didn’t belong to her. We’re hoping one of them belongs to Frankie, but it’s taking a while to get any info back.”
I stuffed my purse under the counter and plucked the spare apron Bobbie Sue always had on hand off a hook in the waitress station. “Good luck, then. Sarah and Skeeter were takin’ the kids to the carnival this afternoon, but it looks like her replacement didn’t show. I’m gonna fill in for her so she doesn’t get stuck here. Do your thing and shoot me a text if you learn anything, okay? Love you.”
“Will do, and love you, too,” he said, then disconnected.
“What are you doing here?” Sarah asked, nudging me with her elbow. “And why are you strappin’ on an apron? Last I heard, you quit us to be the CEO for some repurposing startup.”
I grinned. “Oh, is that what you call it when I’m sanding paint and splinters off old half-rotted furniture all day? It sounds so glamorous.”
She smiled back, and I couldn’t help but notice the dark smudges under her eyes. She needed the time off.”
“How many hours have you worked this week?” I asked, concerned.
“I don’t know. Fifty, maybe?” Sarah shrugged. “I need the money, and I can’t just leave Bobbie Sue in the lurch when this chick doesn’t show up. I think Bobbie feels a little stuck because Shayna only has this job because her parents are old friends of Earl’s.”
Bobbie Sue was generous, but when it came to her business, there was no room for shenanigans. I was surprised she’d let it slide this long. “And nobody’s said anything to h
er?”
She raised her brows. “Oh, believe me. People have said things to her about it. Louise told her the next time it happens, she’s a goner. The problem is that right now, at least she shows up sometimes. If we can her before we find somebody else, we’ll be stuck splitting her shifts. There are only six of us as it is.”
I racked my brain trying to come up with somebody that might need some extra money but came up empty. Becky was already busting her hump at the diner. “I’ll keep an eye out for anybody looking for a job. I’m surprised you’re having problems finding someone.”
“Oh, we find plenty,” she said, shaking her head. “We just don’t find good ones.”
“Well, you’ve got me for now. Hunter’s tied up with this murder, and I’ve already been through all the booths and exhibits. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
She laughed. “I can remember when you would have said almost anything would be better.”
“Just go,” I said with a mock stern look. “Before I remember those days and run for the hills.”
“I have to do my checkout yet. I’m waiting on Bobbie Sue to get finished with the produce delivery.”
I held out my hand, palm up. “I’ll do it unless you’re upside down and they owe you money.”
She shook her head and pulled out her cash-out slip along with a stack of cash. “Nope. Most tips were cash today, So I owe the house.”
I made sure the number on the slip and the cash matched, then sent her on her merry way.
Sarah turned to me as she put her hand on the door to leave. “Thanks, Noelle. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“Sure I do,” I said with a half-smile. “Now go spend all the tips you made today on silly games and junk food. Have fun!”
She gave me a little salute and hightailed it out of there like her britches were on fire.
“Excuse me!” a raspy impatient voice called from behind me. “There’s no more baked beans out here, and I want some more. And my tea’s empty again. This place has gone to the dogs.”
I turned to find a twenty-something girl with frizzy red hair glaring at me.
“I’m so sorry,” I said with a sugary smile. “Would you like a refund? Oh wait, it’s all free. But let me rush right to the back to hustle you out some more.”
There was a certain liberty to not depending on a job even though Bobbie Sue would have told her the same thing. She always said we deserved to be treated with respect and that anybody who couldn’t scrounge up enough manners to be polite to a waitress could find somewhere else to eat. Yet another reason to love her.
Chapter 10
Three hours later, I was questioning my own sanity. I hadn’t waitressed in over a year, and my feet had apparently grown lazy. I felt like my bones were coming out my heels. Thankfully, I hadn’t encountered any more rude people, which was more the norm. Most folks were out to have a good time and appreciated what Bobbie Sue and Earl were doing.
“Hey, Noelle!” a familiar voice called. “What are you doin’ here?”
I turned to find Kristen, one of my boarders, sitting at a table with two other girls.
“Hey, yourself,” I said, smiling.
Kristen was awesome, and in fact, I’d been playing with the idea of offering her Matt’s old apartment above the barn. She’d lost her place a few months back and had been forced to move in with her parents. That wasn’t going well at all for her, but the gas station where she worked had cut her hours back so much that she couldn’t afford a place of her own. A lightbulb came on and I kicked myself for not having thought of it sooner.
“I’m filling in for Sarah so she and Skeet could take the kids to the fair. The girl that was scheduled didn’t show up and I didn’t want Sarah to miss out.”
“That’s super sweet of you,” she said, tucking a blond strand behind her ear. “We heard about the murder. Has Hunter uncovered anything that might tell him who did it?”
I shifted my weight to better accommodate the tray of drinks I was carrying. “Not yet, but I haven’t talked to him in a few hours. He was still in the preliminary stages last I heard.”
Her face turned sad. “I stopped at the carnival for a candy apple when I got off work last night. Mom’s been on me about finding another job, and I didn’t feel like going home until I knew they were in bed. Anyway, I went in to see her and she read my palm. She was super nice and not at all creepy or fake like the carnival mystics usually are.”
“I’ll be right back,” I said. I wanted to hear what she had to say, but the weight of the tray started to make my arms go numb. I ran the drinks and picked up some empties on my way back to Kristen’s table.
“So what did she tell you?” I asked when I got back to Kristen’s table.
She gave me a wry smile. “The same sort of things they always do. My life’s going to get better. I’m going to get a new job and my own place. The weird part about it is that she said it would come from the same person. As if I’m lucky enough to have that kind of windfall land in my lap. Shoot. I’d be happy with just the job. Then I could save up some money to get my own place.”
I shifted my weight, a little uncomfortable to make the premonition come true in front of everybody. Plus, I didn’t want to pressure her into anything, and I wanted to double-check with Hunter and Gabi that they were still on board with offering her the apartment.
“You never know,” I said, waggling my brows. “It never hurts to believe a little in the magic of positive thinking!”
Kristen and her friends laughed, and she gave me a knowing wink. “If that’s all it takes to get me out of my folks’ house, then I’ll believe in magic all day long. Little leprechaun or genie or whatever, bring on the good luck.”
Unlike many other people in town, Kristen had never looked at me sideways wondering if I was a witch right up to the day she caught me doing magic in the barn. Even then, she’d just shrugged it off and said everyone had their quirks.
“I’ll give you a call later,” I said. “Enjoy the fair!”
An hour later, a brunette I didn’t recognize plopped down at a two-seater table inside. She looked a little ragged around the edges, and I wondered what had gotten her down. In my experience, it wasn’t easy to look so dejected when there was free food and a festival going on.
“Hey,” I said. “I’m Noelle. What would you like to drink?”
She jumped a little, like she hadn’t realized I was there. “Oh, just a Coke, please.”
“Comin’ right up,” I replied. “Help yourself to the food.”
Confusion crossed her face. “Help myself?”
“Yeah,” I said. “There’s pulled pork, brisket, barbecued chicken, baked beans, and slaw set up outside, and there’s a table full of potluck dishes that folks have contributed, too. Try the strawberry rhubarb pie if you like that sort of thing. Mrs. Carter makes it every year, and she brought five.”
“Oh,” she said, furrowing her brow, “there’s not, like, a menu?”
I laughed. “There is, but everything set up outside is free. Bobbie Sue and Earl do it every year for the spring festival. If you order off the menu, it’s regular price. I’ll be glad to get you one, though.”
She shifted in her seat and fiddled with her purse, not making eye contact. “I feel bad, eating free food when I’m not part of the community and I’m not participating in the event. I’m not feeling particularly festive.”
“Trust me, everybody’s welcome, and with the amount of food out there, whatever you can eat isn’t even a drop in the bucket.”
She sighed and gave me a tired smile. “Okay then, if you’re sure. I was gonna order a pulled pork sandwich anyway.”
“Then by all means,” I said, feeling sorry for her, “help yourself. I’ll be right back with your Coke.”
I filled my tray up with teas and Cokes, which was what most folks were drinking, and dropped a Coke off at her table on my way past. After I made what felt like the ten-thousandth trip of the
day to keep the masses hydrated, I stopped to make sure she didn’t need anything. She was just shoving her beans and slaw around on her plate, and she’d only taken one bite of her sandwich.
“It’s none of my business, but you look like somebody kicked your puppy and ate the last piece of pie,” I said. “Are you okay?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Not really. I came here to try to make amends with my best friend. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever known, and I shouldn’t have let it get to where it did but showing up out of the blue didn’t work out so well.”
“No? Well, give her time. If you were that close, I’m sure she’ll come around. Friendships like that are worth the effort.” My mind drifted to Raeann. She’d been my best friend since before I could remember. We’d had our share of spats because we were both knot heads, but we always made it right.
“I’m afraid she won’t. Not this time because—” she burst into tears and I wished with all my might that I’d minded my own business. I didn’t do well with tears even when it was somebody close to me. Strangers springing leaks completely freaked me out because it made me feel like an emotional hostage. I never knew whether to hug them or run from them. I settled on something in the middle this time.
“Aww, there’s no need to cry. If she’s the kind of person you say, she’ll forgive you.” I didn’t know that at all, but I also felt a heaping helping of pity mixed in with my discomfort and wanted her to stop crying. I cast an anxious glance toward a table of six who were giving me the stink-eye for letting dirty plates pile up on their table.
“That’s just it. She can’t,” she replied, then went into a full-on wail. “Because she’s dead!”
That set me back on my heels and I had no idea how to respond. My go-to defense in an uncomfortable situation was sarcasm, but that clearly wouldn’t work here. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know. Was she sick?”