Murder, Malice and Mischief

by Quinn, Lucy

  “Yes.” He looked over at me. Our gaze met. “But it was business. Not murdering business.”

  “Around ten p.m.?” she asked.

  “Yes. I saw him at Madame’s a little later, and he was just fine.” He looked down at his feet. He rubbed his hands together. “Do I need a lawyer?”

  She went in with the big question. “Did you shoot Chuck Shilling, Mac Tabor?”

  There we stood—me, Iris, Ruby, Millie, Gertrude, and Harriette—all with bated breath. Millie hadn’t even given me the blanket; she held it up to her mouth, her eyes big.

  “Why wouldn’t Mac be okay?” I heard Harriette ask Iris.

  “I had a feeling.” Iris’s words caused a collective gasp from the older women.

  “Mac, answer my questions.” Angela’s voice got sterner and a lot louder as she repeated the question.

  “I’m sorry. If you want to question me any further, you’re going to have to call Tim Crouse.” Tim Crouse was a local attorney.

  “Take him downtown.” Angela twirled her finger in the air. “Mac Tabor, you’re being taken down to the department for further questioning in the death of Chuck Shilling. You can call your lawyer when you get there.”

  “I’ll call him,” I blurted as the officer escorted Mac to one of the deputy’s cars before putting him in the back. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to take up for Mac when I’d been feeling as if he wasn’t the person I’d grown to know and embrace over the past ten years. Before that, he had been Richard’s friend, but now…I wasn’t sure where we stood.

  But for Richard’s sake, I knew I had to help Mac out until I knew for sure he didn’t do it.

  The sheriff’s deputy’s car did a complete U-turn and zoomed off.

  “I told you I had a feeling,” Iris muttered under her breath as we watched the taillights disappear around the corner at the end of Little Creek Road.

  Chapter 5

  “Tim.” I had called Tim Crouse.

  The sheriff’s department had the bridge at the dead end blocked off as part of the crime scene, forcing me to walk back down Little Creek Road to head back over to Main Street.

  “It’s Bernadette. Mac is in big trouble, and he needs you at the sheriff’s department.” I could feel myself starting to gasp for air as I tried to get out all the words.

  “Sheriff station?” Tim questioned. “Oh geez,” he groaned. “I told him that when the people of the country club found out he’s going to put up condos, they were going to tan his hide.”

  “No. Worse.” I gulped and ran across the bridge to Main Street. “Chuck Shilling is dead, and there’s all sorts of people who overheard Chuck and Mac fighting.”

  “Dead? Chuck?” My news struck Tim speechless. “I...I…yeah, I’ll walk over to the department right now.”

  Now that I could finish my route, I was in no mood for it. I stood on the corner of Short Street and Main Street, looking over at the old mill wheel. The water gushed over it with every turn. I looked to the left of it, where the courthouse stood tall. It was a large white courthouse, typical for the South, with a gold steeple on the top, the arrows of a weather vane pointing north, south, east, and west.

  The Sheriff department was located in the back of the courthouse, and it was where they were questioning Mac about Chuck’s murder. Angela would not let me in, but Mac had taken care of me and Grady when I was at my lowest point in my life. Now it was my turn to be there for him. Richard would think so.

  The sound of someone knocking on glass caught my attention. It was Lucy Drake, the morning DJ of the WSCG radio station located on the corner where I was standing.

  Once she knew she had my attention, she gestured me to hold on, flung her big earphones off her head, and met me on the sidewalk in front of the station.

  “What on earth is going on over on Little Creek Road?” she asked. “I’ve gotten all sorts of call-ins about it. Plus I couldn’t miss the deputy bringing someone to the department in the back seat.”

  Before I could say anything, Barron had brought the hearse to a stop at the stop sign.

  “Oh my God. Someone died?” Lucy gasped, bringing her hand up to her mouth. She turned to me as Barron took a left on Main Street and turned right into the parking lot of the funeral home. “What happened?”

  “Chuck Shilling was shot and killed.” I gulped, still a little bit in shock. “I found him in the creek.”

  “Who did they haul in?” She looked between me and the Sheriff station.

  “Mac Tabor.” My voice trailed off. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Wow. This whole country club thing has made everyone crazy.” She shook her head.

  “Why do you think it was because of the country club?” I asked.

  “Because it’s the only topic the callers on this morning’s show wanted to talk about.” She shuffled nervously. “I’ve got to get this on the news.”

  “Maybe you should wait. Mac wasn’t arrested. He’s just being taken in for questioning.” All of a sudden, I felt as if I’d put my foot into my mouth. “Plus, he had no reason to kill Chuck. They were doing a big business deal.”

  “Nothing was signed yet. I got a call this morning during the morning chatter segment about how the deal wasn’t supposed to be signed until tomorrow.” Lucy had a daily segment in her morning show during which she let people call in to discuss anything and everything.

  “That’s true, but why would Mac kill him when they were both gaining something?” I asked what I felt was a reasonable question.

  “Maybe the deal fell through at the last minute.” Lucy shrugged. “I also got a call from someone who said they’d seen Mac at Madame’s.” Her right brow rose. “They heard Mac yell at Chuck before he left that he wasn’t going to let him do that.”

  “Before who left?” I asked.

  “Mac and some lady.” Lucy frowned. “I’m sorry, Bernadette, but I’m afraid this isn’t looking good for Mac.”

  “Well, he’s innocent in my book until they have proof.”

  Just as I said that, Vick Morris , the radio station manager, ran out of the radio station.

  “Who was the caller who said they’d seen Mac at Madame’s?”

  “Lucy, Chuck Shilling has been murdered by Mac Tabor,” Vick interrupted.

  “That’s not true.” I was starting to get a little frustrated with all the gossip.

  “They found the murder weapon at his house.” Vick shrugged and stepped out of Lucy’s way as she ran back into the station, no doubt getting back on the air with this late-breaking news. “Now that Leah cancelled the special commissioners’ meeting at the fairgrounds, I’m feeling pretty confident they believe Mac is the killer and the country club sale has stalled.”

  No meeting? I stood there debating whether to blurt out how I’d heard Ashley Williams say something to the effect of how she’d do anything to stop the sale or at least halt it until they could figure out what to do.

  Anything?

  Did that include murdering Chuck Shilling? And who had called in to the radio station?

  Chapter 6

  Monica Reed was putting away the certified letters from yesterday’s unable-to-deliver pile when I got back to the post office. Monica had long wanted a mail route job that would get her out of the building, but she’d never gotten one when she applied. It was good for me, because she jumped at the chance to take my route when I needed her to, which was rare.

  “Monica.” I grabbed one of the water bottles out of the big pack donated by the local general store. “It’s your lucky day.”

  “Why’s that, Bernadette?” Monica was doing exactly what I figured her to be doing, taking yesterday’s packages and putting them in big plastic mail containers.

  “I’ve got an emergency. I only finished the left side of downtown and the first five houses on Little Creek Road.” I took my mailbag off my shoulder and took the mail I’d yet to deliver out of it. “Do you think you can finish my route today?”

  “Abs
olutely!” She dropped the handful of packages she was going through into an empty container and grabbed the mail out of my hands.

  With my route taken care of, I jumped in my old truck and drove straight down to the Sheriff station.

  “Here’s Bernadette Butler.” Lucy Drake was standing outside of the back of the courthouse where the entrance to the Sheriff department was located. She had a microphone in her hand. “Bernadette, we are live on the air for WSGC. What can you tell us about how you found Chuck Shilling?” She stuck the microphone in my face.

  “I…umm…” I stuttered and stammered before Tim Crouse pushed the Sheriff department door open and motioned me in.

  “Well, folks, it appears Bernadette has Tim Crouse as a lawyer.” I heard Lucy tell her audience what she perceived to be the truth…and that was how rumors were started in Sugar Creek Gap. “But let me tell you what she told me just about twenty minutes ago.”

  Though it did bother me because I was sure all of Sugar Creek Gap was now tuned in, I knew better than to let gossip get my goat. I’d dealt with a lot of it during Richard’s death.

  Still, I didn’t like anyone to talk about me whether it was true or not.

  “How is he?” I asked Tim once we were safely inside and away from Lucy’s prying ears.

  “He’s being Mac.” Tim didn’t have to tell me any more for me to know Mac was shrugging it off. “He said he didn’t do it. Maybe you can talk to him when they release him.”

  “They didn’t charge him?” I asked.

  “They are going to charge him, since they found the weapon, but I’m hoping to get him out on bail.” Tim shook his head.

  “How can I help?” I asked.

  “I told Angela you’d give your official statement when you got here.”

  He walked me over to a desk, where an officer seemed to be waiting for me. There was a little silver case on top of his desk. I sat down in the chair and watched as he took out what appeared to be a fingerprinting kit.

  I jerked around and looked at Tim.

  “It’s standard procedure to fingerprint the person who found a body so they can clear any of your prints from the crime scene.” Tim still didn’t make me feel better. “Or even the gun.”

  “I didn’t touch anything.” I shook my head.

  “It’s just a formality. Then all should be good.” He gave the officer the go-ahead nod.

  The officer reached for my right hand. He took each finger and rolled my pad on the ink, then pressed each one on the paper in the proper labeled grid. After he finished with the right hand, he did the left, then handed me a wet wipe to clean off the black ink.

  While I cleaned my hands, I watched as the officer put the kit away. He pulled open his desk drawer, took out a tape recorder, and set it in the middle of the desk.

  “Please state your name, address, and how you know Mac Tabor.” The officer eased back in his chair and listened to me while I answered his questions.

  “Tell me how you found the body.” He wanted to know from beginning to end. I made sure I didn’t leave out how the mayor and Ashley had made it very clear they weren’t happy with the condos. “She should be a suspect,” I half joked, but he didn’t find it funny. Especially since she was ultimately his boss.

  “Please just keep it to the facts,” he informed me but didn’t erase it from the recorder, which made me happy since it was on record.

  Not that I thought the mayor did do it, but it got me doing some thinking…which sometimes got me in trouble.

  Chapter 7

  “Think about it, Iris,” I said to my best friend.

  We were sitting at my kitchen table, rolling out the dough for the pumpkin sugar cookies I’d agreed to make for the Sugar Creek High School booster club to sell at the football game tonight. Iris had come by to help. “Maybe Ashley did do it.”

  I felt a low purr as my rescue cat, Rowena, rubbed up against my leg, curling her tail around the blue mail-carrier pants I’d yet to change out of. I picked her up and glanced over at the automatic feeder that dispensed kibble at six thirty a.m. and six thirty p.m. It wasn’t six thirty, but she was hungry. She was always hungry.

  “Why would she kill Chuck?” Iris did bring up a good question.

  “Because he was selling the country club. ” I took a few of the treats out of the cat treat jar and put a couple on the floor to tide Rowena over. I washed my hands and went back to making more cookie dough.

  The treats must’ve satisfied my little tabby, because she jumped up onto the cat tree and stared out at the bird feeder I’d hung near the back patio to keep her company during the day.

  I stirred the butter, oil, sugars, vanilla, eggs, and pumpkin together and thought about why she could be the killer. “She is leading the charge against it, not to mention I did hear her say that she was going to stop it somehow or stall it, even if she had to lay her own body over the threshold of the lawyer’s office.”

  Iris used the round cookie cutter to make the perfect circle before she put it on the parchment paper on the cookie sheet. “Why are you trying to do the sheriff ’s job?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I owe it to Mac to prove his innocence.” I put the ingredients under the mixer to make sure the dough was the perfect consistency that would bake up into a nice, chewy cookie. “I would do the same for you. You and Mac have been such good friends to me and Grady. I need to be here for him like he has been there for me.”

  “And how do you plan on doing that? Solving the crime?” She laughed and looked at me.

  I looked back with a stone face. “Yes.” The word fell out of my mouth without me even thinking about it.

  “You’re serious.” The smile on Iris’s face slowly faded away. She looked at the oven when the preheated timer beeped done. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

  Iris stood up from the old farmhouse table and walked over to the oven with two cookie sheets filled with pumpkin sugar cookies. She put them in the oven and moved to the counter.

  “I plan on talking to people.” I wasn’t sure what people, but people. I shut the mixer off and slid the lock knob to unlock, pushing up the top of the mixer to retrieve the bowl.

  Iris and I both stuck our fingers in the dough to taste it to make sure it was perfect. We let it sit inside our mouths to let the ingredients mix with our saliva before we swallowed.

  “I think it needs a little more pumpkin pie spice,” Iris finally said.

  “You’re right,” I agreed, reaching for the metal spice container.

  “Good. You don’t need to look into any murder.” Iris was mistaken about what I agreed with.

  “No, you’re right about needing more spice.” I shook the container over the mixing bowl. “Wrong about helping Mac. I’m going to start right now.”

  After a few final rounds of the mixer, I handed the dough to Iris to roll out while I grabbed my iPad.

  “What are you doing?” Iris had dug her hand into the dough.

  “I’m going to make some notes.” I touched the screen to bring up the notes app as I sat down across from Iris. “You’ve seen it in those Hallmark shows. The person who solves the crimes is usually a baker or librarian, even a campground owner. Surely I can figure out something.” The excitement of it welled up inside of me. “I’m a mail carrier. Don’t you realize all the gossip I hear? I drown it out every day with a smile on my face. I get people’s mail and know things they don’t want me to know.”

  “And that’s going to help solve Chuck Shilling’s murder how?” Iris wasn’t convinced in the slightest bit. She rolled the dough.

  “It’ll help figure out who heard what. It wasn’t like Dennis Kuntz was quiet this morning.” I recalled when I had passed the diner and he was outside with that toothpick in his mouth, his big belly full, talking about the city council meeting they’d had the night before. “I’ve got to go see Mama and see if Audrey heard anything and go back to the nursing home to talk to Vince Caldwell.”

  “I get Audrey, since
she worked at the country club restaurant and has her side gig at the diner, but why Vince?” Iris walked over to the oven and flipped the light switch, illuminating the inside. She bent down to get a look at the cookies.

  “He has never missed a council meeting. He Ubers to each meeting.” I loved how Vince had embraced the new technology and not gotten complacent like I’d seen other elders do over the past ten years. “He will be able to give me some insight on what happened publicly between Mac and Dennis.”

  “Dennis?” Iris grabbed the oven mitts.

  She took the cookies out of the oven and used a spatula to take them off to put them on the cooling rack. We had found that with the right amount of dough and the perfect temperature and baking time, the perfect cookie was made.

  “Dennis Kuntz is Chuck…was Chuck’s business partner. It wasn’t an even split, and truly, he was just a financial backer to the failing club.” I looked over the cookies, which smelled great. “He was just as determined to stop the sale of the country club as Ashley was.”

  “Let me guess.” She watched me as I grabbed my iPad. “He’s going in your notes too.”

  “Good guess.” I leaned up against the sink and typed in my notes about Dennis.

  “Those look and smell yummy.” The hint of pumpkin, cinnamon, and sugar floated through my kitchen. My eyes took in the golden-brown edges of the cookie. I picked one up and broke it in half to look at the chewy middle. “Perfection.”

  I could imagine the faces of the customers who’d be buying some from the boosters as they bit down into the crunch, only to end with a chewy middle, sending them off into cookie heaven.

  Iris made her special pumpkin spice glaze to pour over the top of them while I continued to type notes into my iPad.

  “You’ve lost your mind.” Iris shook her head.

  “As long as we don’t lose this game tonight.” I quickly read through my notes.

  Iris had donated some of her Pie in the Face boxes to transport the cookies to the concession stand at the high school stadium.