Murder to the Max: Witches of Keyhole Lake Mysteries

by Tegan Maher

  She nodded and flickered out. I turned back to Matthew, who was staring at me.

  "What?" I asked. "Never seen a girl who hears voices before?"

  "You're kidding, right?"

  "Of course I am. Just like my saddle racks magically fixed themselves."

  He frowned at me. "No need to be snippy. It's a valid question. Though after meeting Ms. Addy, I'm not even sure why I asked."

  I held up a hand. "Peace. I have to head back. Would you like to go with me? I could use some advice on that pool and deck, too."

  After thinking for a few minutes, he didn't exactly smile, but he wasn't frowning anymore, either. "Sure. But only just to see, and because that pool and deck are so off-square. Then we'll go from there."

  "Fair enough.”

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  As Matthew and I made our way back to the house, Wiz trotting along beside him, he was mostly quiet. I asked a few questions, but got mostly short answers. He wasn't terse, just introspective. Once Shelby saw that I was okay, she lectured me for scaring her like that. I felt bad, because had the roles been reversed, I would have done the same thing.

  I made the introductions and she smiled. "So you're the magic behind the self-fixing barn. Thank you."

  We showed him the apartment, then invited him in for a sandwich. "I'd rather just take some time to look around and get the lay of things, if it's all the same to you."

  "No problem. Make yourself at home and if you need anything, just holler," Shelby said.

  On the way back to the house, she said, "You're totally doing the laundry for a week for scaring me like that."

  I cocked a brow. "Oh, I am, am I?"

  She nodded so hard her ponytail bobbled. "Yes. You are." She glanced at me and her eyes were troubled. "You make me crazy, but I love you and you and Rae are all I have."

  Now how was I supposed to argue with that. I slung my arm around her and bent my head sideways to hers. "Ditto, kiddo."

  I was supposed to have lunch with Coralee, Raeann, Bobbie Sue, and Anna Mae that day, but forgot all about it in all the hubbub until Anna texted to make sure we were still on. I fired back a quick text letting her know that of course we were still on. We tried to get together at least once a week, and we tried to do it when Bobbie Sue could go with us, too.

  Since we'd gone on the cruise, she and Earl had decided to close the restaurant down one day a week unless there was something big going on. They also each took a night when they covered for each other. They'd spent the better part of two years chained to the place because they couldn't find good help and had forgotten what they were missing until they actually got used to those days off again.

  Bobbie Sue had checked Louise's references and was hopeful that she was going to turn out to be somebody she could trust the place with. Line cooks weren't too hard to find, but good managers that kept everybody honest were.

  We decided to mix it up and have lunch at the Cheshire Cat, the local pub. In addition to a good variety of craft beers, they also had a brick oven that they used to make pizzas and all of their sandwich rolls.

  Rather than sit at the bar, we opted for a round table in back the corner, since Belle and Cheri Lynn wanted to join us.

  The rest of us were already there and had beers in front of us when Coralee rushed through the door. She looked frazzled as she draped her purse strap on the back of one of the green pleather chairs then plopped down. "Y'all ain't even gonna believe the gossip that's flyin' around town right now."

  I raised my brows and looked around at the other girls, who looked just as surprised as I was. Though gossip was the accurate word, it wasn't a term she usually used. She preferred to call it chitchat, back-fence chatter, or scuttlebutt. Once in a great while, it was rumors. Or, if she knew it was fact, it was fact. But never gossip.

  "Do tell," Anna Mae said. "I've been spendin' so much time remodelin' the house that I haven't spent much time in town lately. I mean, of course I know about the murder, but what else is going on?"

  I was curious to hear that, myself. Max's story had been front-page news for a week, and as far as I knew, there was no second page.

  After our server took her drink order—a martini, extra dirty—she leaned in. "There's the usual bickerin' and divorces, but a few days ago, a group of women from Eagle Gap came in with some bizarre claims."

  Eagle Gap was a town about the size of Keyhole, about forty miles west of us.

  Now that was interesting. Rarely did we get outside gossip. It was nice to have something fresh, though often Coralee's idea of bizarre leaned more toward Bigfoot sighting than human behavior. I supposed that since she traded in cheating husbands and women who supposedly went commando, it took something a little more grand to make the short list.

  "Well, don't just leave us hangin'," Bobbie Sue said, taking a long pull off her bottle of Bud. She said if she wanted froo-froo flavors in her beer, she'd drink a glass of juice. And she didn't "cotton to none of that watered-down sissy beer" either.

  "Okay, okay, keep your bloomers on. I'm gettin' to it." Coralee glowered at her. Good gossip, like good shine, was to be savored. "So, these ladies wanted to know all about the Hank ordeal, and congratulated us on his passin', then talked a little about Max."

  She paused as the waiter took our food orders.

  "Don't stop now," Rae said. "If they've got somethin' to beat a man gettin' clubbed with a toilet tank lid, I'm all ears. Bless Max's heart, anyway."

  Belle sighed. "Just spit it out, sugar. They got no sense for the finer nuances of a good story.”

  "Fine," Coralee said. "If that's how y'all are gonna be, they said there's been folks bein' possessed by demons over there."

  Silence settled around the table as we digested that. I had to give her credit—it was definitely bizarre.

  "Come again, Coralee?" Anna Mae said, her delicate brows arched.

  Coralee nodded. "Right hand to god, that's what she said. Possessed. Said good, everyday people were doin' stuff like knockin' over convenience stores and shopliftin' food from the Piggly-Wiggly. Just walkin' in, pretty as you please, and doin' whatever, then disappearin' for twenty minutes or so, only to show back up missin' time with no idea what they'd done."

  "Baloney," Bobbie Sue said, motioning around the table. "All of us know ghosts don't just jump into somebody else's body. That possession crap is for the birds. Sounds to me like it's some kind of organized crime spree. Probably a bunch of them scabby, scrawny, juvenile delinquents walkin' around with their faces pierced, their teeth ground into fangs, and their pants hangin' off their asses. They’re probably knockin’ over stores for meth money, then claiming they don't remember."

  Bobbie Sue's always had a problem just saying what she thinks.

  "I don't know," Cheri Lynn said, her brow creased. "Bebee"—her gypsy grandmother—"always said to watch out for unsettled and angry haints. She said they have different juju than regular ghosts. I wouldn't write it off, but she also said there was nearly always an earthly explanation cause spirits that can hurt people are rare as hen's teeth."

  "What did they say they're doing about it?" Raeann asked, glancing at me.

  She knew as well as I did that the odds of it being demons was about the same as a finding a Methodist preacher in a Baptist church. But that didn't mean there wasn't a magical explanation for it. Her dear mama, my aunt Elizabeth, dealt with just such a thing back before we were born. She barely came through it with her life, and her magic was crippled, though Addy was sure it was a mental thing.

  It's why she doesn't leave the house much, and when she does, it's just to go to town for groceries or maybe to the farm for special occasions.

  Belle snorted. "They're bringin' in one of them fancy priests to do an exorcism. Like that'll do any good."

  A little chill ran down my spine and when I glanced at Rae and Cheri Lynn, they looked as worried as I felt.

  Most of those self-proclaimed experts were shysters, but there were a few with just enough
mojo to be dangerous, because they didn't know what they had or how to use it. That was something we needed to keep an eye on, but there was no need to borrow trouble.

  Our lunch arrived, then the conversation turned to Justin. The girls wondered what was going to end up happening to him. Honestly, I didn't know. The social worker wasn't in such a hurry to find him a home since I'd been officially sworn in as a temporary foster parent, but I had no idea how to raise a kid. And with everything so up in the air right then, I didn't know if taking him in permanently would be good for him, either.

  I filled them in on the whole restoration/repurposing idea, and the travel it may entail.

  One thing was certain: before he went anywhere, they'd have to meet my standards and he'd have to like them and want to live there. Period. And that was one case where I would use magic to make things happen. Or, more accurately, to keep things from happening.

  "It's just, he's already part of the family." I ran a fry through my ketchup then popped it in my mouth.

  "Of course he is, sugar." Coralee patted my hand.

  "You know you can bring him by the restaurant any time you need somebody to look after him, right? Earl'd love a young’un around to talk to. He's not a big people person, but he has a real soft spot for kids." She smiled, wistful. "He woulda made a good daddy, but it just wasn't to be. They wouldn't even approve us as foster parents cause of our work schedules."

  That gave me the beginnings of an idea, but I'd have to play it by ear. "Really? Do you think you could keep him this evening? Hunter and I were going for a bike ride tomorrow night and Shelby has a movie date with Cody. I was just gonna skip it and plan an evening in instead, but if you don't mind ..."

  "Oh no, sugar. You bring him right by. Everything'll be just fine."

  I grinned. For the first time, I was pretty sure it would be.

  Chapter Forty

  When I got home, I was pleasantly surprised to see Matthew working on the apartment. I stepped inside and poured two glasses of tea, then headed his direction. His back was to me and he was nailing down a couple of stairs that had popped loose. Wiz was lying beside the stairs in the grass, snoozing.

  The apartment took up two thirds of the space above the barn, with the other third being used for storage. A staircase ran up the back side of the barn to a little deck and the entrance to the apartment.

  "Makin' progress, I see."

  He jumped and spun toward me, pulling the hammer back and Wiz reacted by jumping beside him and leaning into his leg. A comforting gesture for Matt, not an aggressive one toward me. Good dog.

  I stopped in my tracks and held up the tea. "Sorry to startle you. I figured you may be thirsty."

  Blushing and looking at his feet, he lowered the hammer. "I'm so sorry. It's just—"

  "No worries." I handed him one of the glasses. "I shouldn't sneak up on people like that." I knew exactly what caused the reaction because I'd seen plenty of PTSD when I was volunteering at a veteran's hospital in Atlanta. I kicked myself for not taking that into consideration.

  He gave me a half-smile and shook his head. "Like I said, I don't do well with people."

  I shrugged. "I don't do so well with them most of the time, myself. Granted, it's for vastly different reasons, but the sentiment stands."

  He sat down on one of the steps and took a long pull from the glass. "Don't be surprised if I alternate back and forth between here and the cabin, at least for a while. Being back among folks is gonna take some getting used to."

  "It's all good with me. I'm just grateful to have some help."

  "About that. I'm not comfortable just livin' here for free, and I hardly call takin' care of a handful of horses sometimes earning my keep. I need to get a job, but don't know a soul. On top of that, I can't work with a crew. It's too much."

  I thought for a minute and my mind drifted back to what we'd discussed earlier. "I actually may have a solution to that, and it would be helping out both you and another friend of mine."

  I took a seat on an old lawn chair he'd moved from the deck, and looked behind me when the screen door to the house slammed shut. I didn't have time to finish explaining because Justin ran across the yard toward us with Max, who actually looked like he was having a good time for once.

  "Justin, have you met Matthew?"

  "Yeah, Ms. Addy introduced us earlier. He said maybe he could teach me how to fish if it was okay with you."

  Matt's eyes were sparkling. "You just have to remember that the first rule of fishing is that you always back up your fishin' buddy's fish story."

  Justin looked dead serious. "I can do that. Pa used to say I was good at fish tales."

  I couldn't help but laugh.

  Gravel popped and the whine of Hunter's motorcycle coming up the drive made me smile.

  "Wow. I miss having one of those," Matt said as Hunter pulled in front of the house and killed the motor.

  "You ride?"

  "I used to, back before I went to Iraq. I had two bikes—a Honda Goldwing for cruising and a Honda CBR for when I wanted something a little more exciting." He grinned, a faraway look in his eyes. "I rarely rode the Goldwing."

  Hunter ambled across the yard after he'd pulled his helmet off and I introduced the two.

  "Noelle said she had somebody interested in moving into the apartment. I'm glad to see it. I know she's ... capable,"—I raised my brow at his choice of words—"but it's still good to have an extra set of eyes and ears."

  "I'll do my best," Matt said, then took Hunter's measure. "So, did you tell him how we met?"

  Addy popped in just as I was about to reply, which was good, because I had no idea what to say. "I explained to Hunter that everybody has a story, and that you'd tell him how much of yours you wanted to share."

  Bless her. She always knew just what to say, unlike me. I hadn't said anything to Hunter, namely because I wasn't sure what to say. Like Addy said, it wasn't my story to tell.

  "You're a good woman, Ms. Addy." Matt shook his head, his eyes gleaming again. He turned his gaze to Hunter. "You may have heard about some trading going on around town."

  "Trading?" Hunter lowered his brows, confused.

  "Yeah, like trading eggs for fixing doors, and ribs for rebuilding tables," I said.

  "And brooms for dumpster doors, and handicapped ramps for dog food. This list is kinda long." He held his breath as he waited for Hunter's reaction.

  Hunter's eyes lit with understanding and he examined Matt a little closer. "Ohhh. That trading. Well, it was a good work-around, I reckon."

  "That's a nice way of putting it," Matt said. He motioned toward the bike. "What year?"

  And that was all it took. Motor sizes and horsepower speak took over as Matt followed Hunter to the bike to take a closer look. Justin was hot on their heels and Max had retired to the porch for a nap.

  "Lordy, I'm glad to see that. I was 99 percent sure that Hunter would understand, but you never know," Addy said.

  "He's a good egg. He's beat with this whole murder thing, though. Speaking of, have you seen Max?"

  She shook her head. "I sure haven't. And Belle and I have been talkin' about how he blinks out and think maybe we know what's going on. Or at least what's causing it."

  I waited for her to continue, but she didn't. One glance and I could tell she was figuring out how to best phrase whatever she was thinking.

  "I think it's in his noggin," she said after a few more seconds.

  "Say what?" I wasn't tracking.

  "Me and Belle have noticed that he only does it when he's asked questions about his death and we think either who done it, or why it was done is what's causing the problem."

  That actually made sense. I thought back to a few of the times that he'd flickered out on us, and except for the ones in the very beginning, she was right. Still, I had no idea what to make of it.

  While the guys were messing with the bike, I went in to refill our teas and get a glass for Hunter. When I sat down at the patio table on t
he shaded corner of the porch, they joined me.

  We shot the breeze for a bit about places Matt had been, just enjoying the afternoon, then my phone dinged with a text.

  "It's Emily," I said. "Louise and Jared just got back from Atlanta with their U-Haul. She wants to know if we want to have dinner at Bobbie Sue's as a thank-you."

  "A thank-you for what?" Hunter asked.

  "Oh. I hooked Louise and Bobbie Sue up. Louise is gonna be serving at the restaurant so she can fire Miss Ditz. Plus, I'd imagine your work on Max's case so far."

  He shrugged. "I wanna go for a ride first, though."

  I looked at the bike, eager to get going now that he'd mentioned it. "Absolutely. Afterward."

  It only took a couple of texts to finalize the details, then it occurred to me that Matt had to eat, too, and it would be a good time for him to meet Emily and Jared.

  "Matt, would you like to go?"

  "Go where?" He looked leery.

  "Just to my friend's restaurant. She has a great deck out back and we can sit there where we don't have to deal with other people. Emily's husband was murdered, so she now owns the construction company that's doing my pool."

  "Oh." He took off his hat and scratched his head. "Do you think that's a good idea? I'm not a fan of the workmanship. I mean, I may enjoy talkin' construction with one or two folks, but I don't wanna offend anybody."

  "If it makes you feel any better," Hunter said, "the man who started the pool is actually sort of a suspect in the murder. He was too drunk to remember whether he did it or not."

  Matt arched a brow. "Well, bein' in the bag would surely explain a lot." He rubbed his chin, thinking. "How many other projects did he have running while he was like that?"

  "That, I couldn't tell you, but I'm sure Emily and her son-in-law Jared know. And they have an unusual need right now."

  "And there won't be but a couple people there?" His eyes were unsure.

  "No more than four. Plus us, of course. But you don't have to go if you don't want to."