“That’s great.” I could picture them arguing about which exit to take on some freeway, or better yet, cruising along some forgotten highway on an adventure. Daddy always seemed to be more the adventurer, and Momma was always happiest at Daddy’s side.
“This is why I’m telling you to start that family as soon as you can. Don’t say you can’t afford it, or you don’t have the time, or it’s too much of a hassle.” She blinked as she turned to the sink to wash her hands.
“What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me? Are you or Daddy sick?” My throat caught at the very idea.
“No, we’re fine except for aches and pains and your daddy’s general crankiness.” Momma poured herself a fresh cup of coffee and joined me at the table. “It’s your Papaw. He’s not doing good. I think his Alzheimer’s is getting worse.”
“Oh, Momma.” I touched her hand. “I know I should go see him.”
“That’s why I’m saying. You just can’t put things off forever.”
“Papaw. . .he always told the funniest jokes and hid candy in his pockets.” Now my own vision blurred. Time had crept along, and while I’d taken my sweet time building my own life, Papaw had waited to the side. I knew he’d stayed in the same room for nearly ten years now, surrounded by family pictures and some of Grandma’s crocheted pillows. He clung to what memories he still owned.
“I still feel bad about putting him in a nursing home. But he’s strong even if his mind isn’t, and your daddy didn’t think we could keep him here. He’d hurt himself or break something or run off. If Jewel were around, I know we’d have figured something out together.”
“I should go see him.”
“He asks about you and your sister every time I visit.”
“I wouldn’t know what to say. What if he’s confused, and I make him mad?”
“Just talk. He’ll do all right, and you can usually tell when he drifts off. Don’t take it to heart if he hollers at ya, though.” Momma shook her head. “I sometimes wonder if his troubles started after Jewel left. It broke his heart. I tried to make him happy, bringin’ you girls around to the house. . .but then when he lost Momma. . . it was like his brain gave up trying to make sense of everyday things most people don’t forget.”
The sound of sizzling meat grew louder, and my stomach growled.
“I’d better check on that roast.”
I shivered. “I’m glad we’ve all got each other.”
“I’m glad of that, too.”
“But the body in the field. The idea makes me so sad, to think of someone’s daughter or son, or sister or brother lying there. Didn’t anyone miss them or wonder where they were?” My mind spun with possibilities. “I need to find something out if I can. You know how the authorities can move so slowly.”
“Jerry’s a good man. Maybe not the speediest officer in the bunch, but he does his best to do right by the law, I’m sure.”
“I don’t mean Jerry. I mean the county coroner.”
The phone’s ring made Momma and me both give a start. She went to answer it, and I decided to wash the few dishes in the sink. I couldn’t stay still for long, not when my thoughts ran rampant with questions I wanted to ask. I’d try to dig up any news of any parties gone bad out at the watermelon patch.
Momma came back to the table. “Well, that was an interesting phone call.”
“What’s goin’ on?” At the look on Momma’s face, I wanted to pray right then and there.
“Those slow authorities aren’t letting the grass grow under their feet. It was Jerry, putting a bug in my ear that I should probably release Jewel’s dental records to the county.”
“Why?”
“It seems the remains in your field belonged to a woman, and it seems when Jewel left without a word, your Papaw filed a missing persons report.”
Chapter Four
“Roland Thacker leaned against the podium and glared at Honey Haggerty. “Miss Haggerty. . .” His sssss in Miss almost sounded like a snake. “Are you quite finished?”
“I don’t know. Can’t really say.” Honey flipped a bouncy red wave over her shoulder and gave a toss of her head. “Guess I’m finished for tonight.” As she sat down, she glared at Roland then winked at him. She shot me a grin.
The Greenburg City Hall auditorium sounded large, but it really only had a capacity of about fifty. We had thirty in the room and I could hardly breathe. Someone’s antiperspirant had given out an hour ago. We were still hashing out the details of each committee for the annual Watermelon Festival. After every committee report, someone expressed a complaint about how the committee had executed their plans, which led to someone on the committee getting upset and threatening to quit. Junior high school was right. Did I really want to join a group like this? I saw Trudy from the coffee shop. She smiled and waved. Nothing seemed to ruffle her. Tonight her long hair hung in two braids down the back of her seat.
Vivian Delane’s earlier remarks about an affair between Honey and Roland whispered in my ears. I wanted to cleanse my mind, but even now I couldn’t ignore the fact that these two had some kind of history. His aggravation with her was understandable, because Honey was the kind of person most people had strong sentiments about, one way or another.
Lightning flashed outside. The approaching storm gave Roland a great cover for getting Honey to be quiet. No one wanted to be stuck driving home during a downpour at night.
The seat next to me had remained empty through- out the meeting. Where was Ben? I’d already been called up to the platform at the front of the room, along with Vivian and Curtis, as the newest business members of the Chamber. Somehow during the course of the night, I’d landed a position on the Watermelon Festival vendor clearance committee. Another member had to step down, so I ended up taking her spot. It probably had something to do with Honey’s steamrolling. I didn’t know whether to thank her or pray for strength.
A burst of wind from the hall outside made the curtains swirl. Here came Ben, the little lines around his eyes more prominent after his twelve-hour day. And his smile was just for me. He slid onto the empty chair next to mine.
I tried not to wrinkle my nose at his smell. But then his sweet kiss on my cheek made me forget the aroma of the grill. “I’m glad you made it.”
Ben slid his arm around me. “Got here as fast as I could.” My earlier aggravation about him working late evaporated. “Did I miss anything?”
The sound of a gavel echoed against the paneled walls. “Meeting adjourned.” Chairs squeaked as bodies shifted to stand. My back complained when I stood.
“I’m not sure. Some parts I might have zoned out.”
Call it fatigue catching up with me after a stressful day or call it boredom, but I think it was really pre- occupation. The skeleton’s identity had followed me through the rainslicked streets of Greenburg and taken up space in Ben’s empty chair. I knew what my gut told me, especially after hearing Momma’s voice earlier that afternoon telling me about the dental records and the missing persons report. She still couldn’t believe Papaw had never told them about filing the report. Maybe it was a matter of pride that he couldn’t have believed Jewel would willingly leave us. But the things people do for love sometimes. . .
That body had to be my aunt Jewel, and someone had put her there. Then they sat back and let the rumors fly, that she had run off with somebody and broken her family’s heart. Maybe I was making an assumption, maybe not, but knowing someone’s loved one had lain in that field for years, I couldn’t let it rest.
“You okay? You look a little tired.” Ben rubbed my back.
“It’s been a long day. But I need to talk to someone before we leave.” I eyed the crowd. Who to talk to first? Long-timers around my aunt’s age. . .had she lived. Roland Thacker I’d leave be for now. One of his daughters had been killed in my store last summer. I still had a hard time looking him in the eye. It was hard to imagine the pain he and his wife had gone through.
Honey Haggerty divided the meeting room as
if it were the Red Sea. She headed for the doors, heads turning in her wake. Well, she was a little older than Aunt Jewel would have been now, but Honey probably knew something about her. I’d talk to her again tomorrow. I knew right where she’d be, and if she tried to fool me by being vague like she had earlier today, I’d show her I could equal her in the stubborn department.
“Who are you looking for?”
“Someone who might have known my aunt Jewel.” There went Greta Maynard, who owned a quilt shop and a bed-and-breakfast in her family’s antebellum mansion on the river. I had a hard time picturing any of the fifty-and-over crowd sneaking out to party in a watermelon patch.
Ben grabbed my arm and stopped my movement. “Hang on, now. What’s this about?” But his touch softened.
“I think that body in the field is my aunt Jewel. No, the reports aren’t back. All I know is what Jerry told Momma. At first look, what they found likely belongs to a Caucasian female in her late teens, early twenties. And Momma said my grandfather filed a missing persons report after Aunt Jewel disappeared.” I watched Greta vanish through the doors. Here I was losing my chances to start getting some answers because everyone was scurrying for home like rats leaving a sinking ship.
“That’s only a guess on your part.”
I slung my bag over my shoulder. “Maybe so, but Aunt Jewel would have called us or something. Even if she left town.”
“I’m tired. Let’s go home.” Ben’s dimple winked at me. Okay. We’d been apart forever, it seemed, and here I was dragging my heels to go home.
The warmth of Ben’s hand comforted me as we walked into the night. Voices echoed across the parking lot. Honey and Junker Joe Toms, hollering in their classic fashion under the glare of the parking lot lights. An occasional lightning flash accentuated their conversation. They must have noticed us, because Honey’s volume dropped to a normal speaking level.
“My mind’s made up, and ain’t you or no one else gonna change it.” She waved at us, then flashed a smile before transforming it into a glare at Joe. “Besides, what’s done’s done.”
“How do you do it?” I whispered to Ben as he unlocked his truck. “I’d spend every workday taping my mouth shut so I wouldn’t say something that would get me fired.”
“Honey has no bite. Lots of bark, though. And I can ignore barking.”
A gravelly voice drifted towards us. “Someone’s gonna knock you upside that hard head o’ yours one day, and when they do, don’t come cryin’ to me.” Junker Joe stomped to his rattletrap motorbike, then kick-started it as if Honey were under his foot.
“Aw, go on with you then!” Honey shook her head.
I shook mine, too, before giving Ben a kiss. “I’ll meet you at the house.”
“We’ll get a fire lit.” He gave me another long, slow kiss. I just love being married. . . .
Another crack of lightning gave extra light to my path as I headed to my Jeep. Here came the first raindrops. From the corner of my eye, I saw Honey heading toward Ben’s truck. His engine roared, headlights came on.
“Oh, Ben, Ben,” came Honey’s singsong voice. “Can I ask you somethin’ real quick?”
I suppose I could have waited, but Ben started backing up his truck, so I figured he would follow. A check in the rearview mirror as I drove along Main Street revealed no truck. I bit my lip. Sure, I trusted Ben, but I didn’t appreciate more precious time being stolen from us.
Thirty minutes later I had a fire roaring in our fireplace and coffee brewing in the pot. Still no Ben. I punched his cell phone number. Spot lurked at the edge of the hallway. Her look told me it was too late for anyone to be out.
“Ben, are you almost home?” I asked when he answered.
“I’m on my way. I had to circle around. The other road was closed because of the rain. I had to jumpstart Honey’s vehicle. The battery was dead.”
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
“I’m hurrying.”
“Just be careful.”
Twenty minutes later I saw the flicker of headlights as Ben’s truck bumped along the muddy driveway. Finally. My cup of coffee was cold, and I tried not to yawn. So much for a romantic refuge tonight. Well, at least we’d be safe and cozy.
“I’m home,” Ben called from the kitchen, the sound of wind and rain entering with him.
“The coffee’s still on. Mine needs warming, though.” We met in the kitchen, and Ben took me in his arms.
“Ew, you’re soaked. That’s been happening a lot lately.” But I kissed him anyway. “Get some coffee and meet me in the living room. Are you hungry? I can reheat something.”
“Nah, I don’t want the heartburn to kick in.” Ben took a mug from the cabinet and poured himself a cup of coffee.
We settled on the love seat near the fireplace. As I watched the dancing flames, Aunt Jewel came back to mind. I had to ask Momma the bunches of questions I’d never asked, such as what would have made her leave without a word. Worse, who’d put her in that field.
I started telling Ben about Jerry’s phone call earlier. “Momma got pretty upset, but she wouldn’t talk about Aunt Jewel’s disappearance. Then when Daddy got home, I expected Momma to talk to him, but she didn’t.”
“I’m sure she’ll say something when she’s ready.” Ben’s arm around me tightened.
“I hope so. If that skeleton turns out to be Aunt Jewel, Momma’s really going to need us. And she’s always the strong one. But if she needs us. . .”
“I know you and your daddy and Diana will be there for her.”
We fell silent and watched the flames lick up the wood. Funny, using the fireplace in August, but the latest storm had arrived with a cool front.
“Oh, I meant to tell you. Honey wants to talk to us tomorrow morning, after the breakfast rush is over.” The reflected firelight danced off Ben’s tired eyes.
“Good, I need to talk to Honey about Aunt Jewel. According to what little information Momma gave me, Honey and Aunt Jewel used to be friends years ago.” My heart skittered a bit. “Did she say what she wanted to talk to us about?”
“It involves my job at the restaurant, and that was all she said.”
“Was she hollering at you when she asked?”
“No, she grinned at me like I was her long-lost nephew. Or something.”
Or something was right. Honey didn’t seem to be the type of woman to have nephews, long-lost or otherwise. She sure had a grin for a good-looking man, no matter what his age. Junker Joe had stuck with her for years, and I couldn’t imagine why. If Ben was as “friendly” with women as Honey was with men, I’d be keeping him on a tight leash. But then I trusted him and didn’t need to. His kind of friendly had nothing to do with flirting. Nice guys like Ben, though, seemed to attract women who thrived on male attention. I frowned.
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see then. It’ll be the perfect chance for me to talk to her about Aunt Jewel.”
“Still got that idea in your head?”
“Yup. And I’m not about to let go of my suspicion until I get a good answer from someone. Or a confirmation or denial from the authorities.”
“Not to change the subject, but did you mention something about being on a Watermelon Festival committee?”
“Yes, I am. Honey actually had a lot to do with that, too. I’m on the vendor committee, helping make phone calls. The Chamber wants all the businesses to stick close to the watermelon theme, so they have a vendor committee. This is going to be an old-fashioned country fair, and we don’t want a lot of ‘plastic inflatable junk and bangles,’ as Honey put it. I agree with her about that point. A country fair shouldn’t peddle plastic stuff that you can buy anywhere. We need to make this fair distinctly Greenburg.”
“I’m proud of you.” Ben sounded like his voice caught. He stared at the fire instead of looking me in the eye.
“Thanks. And I owe my success to you. I wanted to quit the business last year. But you wouldn’t let me.”
“You’re right.”
This time he looked at me and smiled, but his eyes remained somber. “Did you take notes at the meeting tonight?”
“That I did. I’ll go grab them.” Along with the suspect list I’d left in the kitchen. By the time I got back to the living room, Ben’s eyes were closed, his mouth open, and his breathing slow. I planted a kiss on his forehead. “I love you, tired man.”
I couldn’t reach the ringing phone. The blankets wouldn’t cooperate and let me move, but finally my hand found the plastic receiver. The clock read five. Ben had already gone to work, and I hadn’t even heard him leave.
“Hello?” I wondered who was calling this time of morning. Phone calls too early or too late never meant good news. Maybe someone had simply dialed the wrong number. Then the only bad news would be a few minutes of lost sleep for me.
“I hate to wake you, Andi, but. . .” Ben sounded infinitely tired.
“Where are you? What’s wrong?” I shoved the blankets aside and sat upright in bed.
“I’m at the restaurant, waiting for the police to arrive.”
My mind was slow and sluggish. “Was there a break-in?”
“No, babe. It’s Honey. She’s dead.”
Chapter Five
I threw on some respectable clothes and dashed into the drizzle. Ben needed me. He didn’t say so, but as I zoomed along the wet roads, I prayed. The Lord knew I’d been complaining more than praying lately. Easy enough and natural enough to slip into. But praying was a better use of my breath. Honey. Dead. I blinked back tears. The crusty redhead hadn’t always made it easy for me to act like a Christian, and I’d readily admitted to myself she inspired a jealous streak in me, but dead?
Of course, Jerry, chief of police and Ben’s brother, would be on his way. Unless protocol or conflict-of- interest or something meant he couldn’t because of Ben. I wasn’t sure about those kinds of details, but Jerry was a pretty by-the-book guy. And maybe Honey had died of natural causes. Yet Honey had always seemed quite active and healthy.
The Wiles of Watermelon (Scents of Murder Book 2) Page 4