Toni L.P. Kelner - Laura Fleming 07 - Mad as the Dickens

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Toni L.P. Kelner - Laura Fleming 07 - Mad as the Dickens Page 5

by Toni L. P. Kelner


  “Assuming that I didn’t eat it on the airplane,” I agreed.

  After a few minutes of serious eating, Junior asked, “Are you and Richard going to be staying in town for the holidays? I mean, since he doesn’t have a play to direct.”

  “We haven’t talked about it, but I think we will. The family would be mighty disappointed if we didn’t, and I hate to think what it would cost to change our plane tickets this time of year. How about you? Other than helping your mother, what are you going to do with the rest of your vacation?”

  “That’s up to you.”

  “It is?”

  “I thought I might give you a hand.”

  “Give me a hand doing what?”

  “Solving Seth Murdstone’s murder.”

  I blinked. “What makes you think that I’m getting mixed up with that?”

  “He’s dead. You’re here.”

  “I don’t always spend my trips home chasing killers.”

  Junior didn’t say anything, just raised one eyebrow.

  I tried to come up with a time Richard and I had come to Byerly without a murder intervening, but I couldn’t, so I took another approach. “I’ve had good reasons for getting involved before, but not this time. Nobody in my family is a suspect, and no one has asked me to step in, and I didn’t even know Seth that long. Murder isn’t a game to me, Junior.”

  “I know it’s not, Laurie Anne. That’s why I figured you’d want to investigate. You hate the idea of somebody getting away with murder as much as I do.”

  “You’re right about that,” I said. When my own grandfather was murdered, I’d started taking all murders more personally. I knew darned well that Paw’s murderer would probably never have been caught without Richard and me.

  Junior said, “I realize that Seth wasn’t a friend of yours, and maybe nobody in your family is directly involved, but somebody is asking you to step in—me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Mark Pope is going to screw it up if you don’t help.”

  “Mark’s not that bad,” I said halfheartedly. “I mean, he’s not stupid or anything.”

  “No, he’s not stupid, but I’ve got a hunch that he’s going the wrong way on this one.”

  “Really?” Junior’s hunches were legendary in Byerly—I’d never known her to have a wrong one—but still I wasn’t convinced. “I don’t know, Junior. I mean, look at me. I’m as big as a house, and my feet swell if I’m on them for more than ten minutes at a time. I spend half my time eating and the other half in the bathroom. Then there are my mood swings—if you think Richard’s tantrums are bad, you really don’t want to see one of my hormone attacks. This might not be the best time for me to go snooping.”

  “Your brain still works, doesn’t it?”

  “You tell me.”

  “And your mouth still works.”

  “Is that a comment on how many hush puppies I’ve eaten?”

  Junior refused to rise to the bait. “So you can still go around and ask people questions and think about what they say. Most of the time that’s all you do, isn’t it? It’s not like you go on stakeout or try to tail people or break into houses, so I don’t see why your being pregnant makes any difference.”

  “Spoken like somebody who’s never been pregnant.”

  “Look, Laurie Anne, I’m not going to try to talk you into anything you don’t want to do. If you can sleep at night knowing that you’ve let Seth’s murderer go free—”

  “Like heck you’re not trying to talk me into it!”

  “Okay, I am trying to talk you into it. Is it working?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “I want to think about it.”

  “That’s fine.”

  We ate for a few minutes without talking, and I figured that Junior had given up for the time being. I should have known better. I was just about to finish my barbecue when she said, “Would it help you any to know more about Seth?”

  “Like what?” I said cautiously. “I know he was a widower with the two sons, and his grandson recently died in an accident. And that he was a nice man, of course.”

  “Do you know what line of work he was in?”

  “He made furniture, didn’t he?”

  “Yep, but when he wasn’t making furniture he was making moonshine.”

  “Moonshine!” I yelped. When I saw heads turn my way, I lowered my voice. “That sweet old man was a moonshiner?”

  “That’s right.”

  “How on earth could I have missed hearing about that?”

  “Very few people know, and I’d just as soon it stayed that way, just in case I’m wrong.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My daddy has suspected Seth was running a still since before I was born. He just never managed to catch him at it.”

  “Really?” As good a police chief as Junior was, there were those in Byerly who insisted that Andy Norton had been better. I wasn’t willing to go that far, but I knew that most of what Junior knew, she’d learned from her father. “I didn’t think your daddy ever gave up.”

  “He didn’t give up. That’s why he passed the case on to me when he retired.”

  “Is he sure Seth was a moonshiner? I just can’t picture it.”

  “Years back, Daddy started getting hints that somebody in Byerly was shipping shine up North. So he started hunting around, and more than once he came across spots where stills had been, but all that was left was bits of copper tubing and such. He even found an intact still once and kept watch to see who came back to it, but the moonshiner must have gotten wind of him being there, because he never showed. And he hadn’t left a fingerprint or anything else to identify him. Eventually Seth Murdstone’s name got attached to the rumors, and Daddy started keeping an eye on Seth.

  “The problem was, Seth had too much sense to put the still on his own land. So even though Daddy managed to look over his property a few times, there was nothing to find. He tried watching Seth to see where he went, but every time he did, Seth spent all day in his workshop, making chairs. Or he’d manage to sneak out despite Daddy watching him, and the moonshine would go through just like before.”

  “I’d never have thought Seth was smart enough to stay away from your father,” I said.

  Junior shrugged. “He was either smart or lucky.”

  “You say he shipped the stuff up North?”

  “That’s right. There are plenty of bars that would rather buy illegal booze for cheap, charge regular prices, and pocket the difference. Daddy figured Seth was sending it up in the trucks with his furniture, but he could never catch him at it, no matter how many times he stopped the trucks.”

  “I can’t believe word of this never got around town.”

  “Daddy was careful. He knew that if the rumor got out, it would hurt his chances of catching Seth. Not to mention the fact that without proof, Seth could have sued him for slander.”

  “Is he sure Seth was the one? Maybe somebody was trying to make it look like it was Seth.”

  “Daddy said he had a hunch.”

  There was no arguing with that. Like Junior’s, Andy Norton’s hunches were never wrong.

  Junior said, “I’ve been sniffing around Seth ever since I became police chief, but I haven’t had a bit more luck than Daddy did.”

  “Do Jake and David know about it?”

  “They must. Those chairs of Seth’s didn’t put David through business school, and Jake was in business with his daddy.”

  “It’s hard for me to get my mind around this,” I said. “I wouldn’t have suspected Seth of doing anything worse than speeding.”

  “He probably did that, too, when it was time to get his product to market.”

  “Do you think Jake is going to keep the business going? The moonshining part, I mean.”

  “Probably, though I can’t ask him.”

  I shook my head, amazed that none of this had ever made it into the Byerly rumor mill. There were other bootleggers around, but people knew who they we
re, and who had the best product and prices. Even I knew some of them, though the one time I’d tasted moonshine had been more than enough for me. “How on earth did he ever keep it a secret all these years?”

  “Seth may not have been a good actor onstage, but he could play parts offstage like nobody’s business.”

  “Do you think the moonshining had something to do with his death?”

  “Could be. There’s money in moonshine, and when you mix money and criminals, you tend to get killings.”

  “Rival moonshiners? Seth not delivering the booze on time?”

  “Something like that. Maybe he was shipping watered booze, or not greasing the right palms along the way, or even running into bigger sharks in the water.”

  Now Junior was starting to scare me. I could understand personal killings. Revenge or jealousy or fear—those things I’d run into before. Killing for business was something different. “If that’s what it was, I don’t want to get anywhere near this one,” I said flatly. “Dealing with organized crime is not my idea of a good time.”

  “Hey, that’s just one possibility, and if that’s what it was, you’re right to stay away. Solving that kind of killing is best left to the professionals.”

  “Is Mark investigating from that angle?”

  “That’s what I suggested to him. Of course, he knows about Seth, because he was in on the original investigation with Daddy, and he’s been involved in mine. But he didn’t seem to think much of the idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. Mark isn’t telling me any more than he has to. Besides, he could be right. People get killed all the time without having anything to do with moonshining. I just wanted to let you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

  “I appreciate that, but I still haven’t made up my mind.”

  “Right. I imagine you’ll want to talk to Richard. I know y’all work together, but I don’t have a problem with being a third wheel.” The waitress dropped our check on the table and Junior reached for it. “Let me pick this up.”

  “Are you trying to bribe me?”

  “Will it work?”

  I took the last hush puppy. “With food as good as this, it just might.”

  Chapter 8

  I was considering Junior’s request as we drove to Aunt Nora’s, so we didn’t talk much. The idea that Seth’s murderer might go free did bother me. I’d been worried about it ever since I found out Junior was letting Mark handle the case. I still didn’t quite understand why she didn’t just tell her mother the situation had changed and go back to work, but since I’d foregone my own Christmas plans for my family, I couldn’t very well criticize Junior.

  Still, I wasn’t sure if I should even be thinking about murder while carrying a baby. The doctor had told me to stick as closely as possible to my normal routine, but I didn’t think she expected murder to be part of that routine. Though I’d never really been hurt during my investigations, I’d come close, and Richard had been shot. Did it make sense for me to risk my baby’s life? And the baby was Richard’s too. I had to speak to him before I decided anything.

  “Junior,” I said, “do you mind dropping me off at Aunt Maggie’s before you go to Aunt Nora’s? I really need to talk to Richard.” As Junior had said before lunch, we were likely to be over there a while, especially since I hadn’t seen Aunt Nora since I’d been in town.

  “I would, Laurie Anne, but Mama told your aunt I’d be there by two. It’s nearly that now, and Nora knows you’re with me.”

  “Rats!” If we didn’t go straight there, Aunt Nora would think we’d been in a car crash or there was a problem with the baby or who knows what.

  “Besides, I thought you wanted some of her cookies.”

  “That’s right,” I said, brightening. Talking to Richard could wait. I spent the rest of the drive happily imagining those cookies and hoping that Aunt Nora would pack me a box of them to take with me. Maybe I’d even save a couple for Richard.

  With cookies on the brain, I was moving pretty fast when we got to Aunt Nora’s house, and I didn’t notice that Junior was letting me go ahead of her. The door was unlocked as usual and I went on in, meaning to call for Aunt Nora on my way to the kitchen.

  Except Aunt Nora was in the hall waiting for me. So was Aunt Daphine, Aunt Edna, Aunt Ruby Lee, Aunt Nellie, and Aunt Maggie. As soon as I stepped in, they yelled, “Surprise!”

  Beyond the aunts, I saw a cluster of female cousins and other lady relatives and friends. Pink and baby blue streamers were everywhere, with matching balloons stuck in every conceivable niche. There was a table stacked high with presents wrapped in pastel-colored paper, and every available surface had some sort of party favor: miniature baby carriages, giant baby bottles and pacifiers, plush storks, and cardboard rocking horses. If it wasn’t a baby shower, it was an awfully good imitation.

  “Junior, were you in on this?” I said.

  She just smiled. Now I knew why she was dressed so nicely.

  I happily hugged everybody who came within reach: motherly Aunt Nora; tall Aunt Nellie, dressed dramatically as always; buxom, blue-eyed Aunt Ruby Lee; Aunt Edna, who’d only recently transformed from drab to vivacious; and the always smiling Aunt Daphine. Then I assured everybody that I was completely taken by surprise, and started the time-consuming process of catching up on family gossip.

  We were expecting a lot of weddings over the next few years, and the family was trying to decide who’d go first: Aunt Nora’s boy Thaddeous, Aunt Ruby Lee’s son Clifford, or maybe Aunt Ruby Lee’s daughter Ilene. Aunt Edna had a head start on all of them because she was already engaged to her beau, Caleb, and had a beautiful diamond to prove it.

  Unsurprisingly, Uncle Ruben and Aunt Nellie had a new business. Their previous businesses, of which there’d been more than I could remember, had lasted an average of three months. This time they’d joined the Internet revolution. Though folks were vague on the details, it sounded to me as if they were sending spam all over the world.

  Everybody told me how wonderful I looked, and asked whether I’d picked out names, and said the other things people say to pregnant women. And of course, they had to pat my tummy and compare my size to how big Vasti had been at that point of her pregnancy.

  “Where is Vasti?” I asked, finally realizing we were a cousin short.

  “She’s running behind,” Aunt Daphine said. “Bitsy slept late, and Vasti had to feed her before she could get dressed.”

  Talk about feeding babies reminded Aunt Nora that I hadn’t eaten yet, and even though I protested that I’d just come from lunch, she pushed me into a big armchair so she could fill up a plate for me. Obviously she believed in eating for two. She brought tiny pimento-cheese sandwiches, little country ham biscuits, carrot sticks with creamy onion dip, fruit salad, potato salad, hunks of cheese on crackers, some of the double-butter cookies I’d been hoping for, and a big glass of milk to wash it all down. Then she actually said, “Don’t forget to save room for dessert.”

  Not wanting to hurt her feelings, I ate every smidgeon of it, and had just finished when Aunt Daphine said, “Who’s ready for party games?” We spent the next hour or so playing a ludicrous assortment of games including a baby-diapering race using dolls borrowed from Sue’s youngest girl; coming up with baby names using the letters from the parents’ names; and the baby-bottle-sucking relay race. I’d never seen so many grown women making such fools of themselves, and I’ve rarely laughed so much.

  When I thought nobody could hear me, I patted my tummy and said, “See all the fuss people are making over you?” Then I looked up and saw Junior grinning at me. So much for not being heard.

  “I bet y’all have been playing Mozart to your belly to make the baby a genius,” she said.

  “We have not,” I said, seeing no reason to admit that Richard had been reading Shakespeare out loud ever since I’d found out I was pregnant.

  “I’ve seen expecting parents do sillier things,” she said.

 
“Since when are you an expert on babies?” Junior had started helping out her daddy at the police station almost as soon as she could walk, so she hadn’t worked as a babysitter like most of the girls in Byerly.

  “Are you serious? I’ve delivered a baby, which is more than you can say.”

  “That’s right. I haven’t even gone to childbirth classes yet.”

  “Besides which, I’ve got four big sisters, and they all have kids. I’ve been to every one of their baby showers, and since I’ve got friends with babies, I’ve been to most of their showers, too. Do you have any idea of how many showers that makes?”

  “Quite a few,” I said, wondering if I’d be able to survive eating that many pieces of pastel pink-and-blue cake.

  “So I’ve heard every old wives’ tale, newfangled improvement, and cockamamie theory about babies that you can imagine.”

  “I had no idea. Now I understand how you did so well in the bottle-drinking contest.” I only wished I had a picture of Junior sucking down apple juice through a rubber nipple.

  “It’s all in the way you hold the bottle,” she said loftily.

  “You were pretty fast with those diapers, too.”

  “I’ve had plenty of practice. But only with the girls. It’s too nerve-racking with a boy. You never know when he’s going to cut loose.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” I said, wincing. “Aunt Maggie says mine is a girl, so I’m safe.”

  “This time, anyway.”

  “This time?” I said, thinking about the five months I’d already gone through and the four still to come. “I don’t even want to think about going through this again.”

  “You’ll feel differently when you hold that baby in your arms,” Aunt Nora said, bringing me another glass of milk. “You’ll forget all about the stretch marks and swollen feet once you look in that little face and hold those little hands.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked doubtfully.

  She just laughed and patted my tummy before heading back toward the kitchen.

  “Junior, with all your vast experience, can you tell me why is it that everybody wants to pat my tummy?”

 

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