A Peachy Plan

by Wendy Meadows

  Michelle, unable to control her emotions, ran up to the driver's side door before Momma Peach could reach it. She wiped the window with the arm of her jacket, drew in a deep breath, and looked into the cab. Charlene Readings’ body hunched over the steering wheel, motionless. “No,” Michelle whispered, feeling tears sting her eyes.

  Sam put a hand on Michelle's shoulder. “I can open the door if you want?”

  “Please,” Michelle said and prepared her heart for the truth.

  Momma Peach stepped away from the truck with Michelle and watched Sam open the driver's side door. “Baby, I can...take care of your friend.”

  “No. Charlene deserves to be seen by someone who knew her,” Michelle said and made her way back to the truck. In the distance, she heard Chief Duddles scolding Thelma. Thelma held her ground. “Momma Peach, there's no way that man is capable of carrying out a professional investigation. If Charlene is going to receive justice, it's up to us.”

  “And God,” Momma Peach said, shaking her head sadly. She walked Michelle over to the truck. “Mr. Sam?”

  Sam had leaned his head into the truck to examine and search the body, and now he eased back. “She's dead, Momma Peach. You two better take a look.”

  Momma Peach bowed her head, said a prayer, and then slowly gazed into the cab of the truck. “Poor child,” she said as tears began falling from her eyes. “Poor, sweet child.”

  Michelle stepped up beside Momma Peach and forced her mind to focus, separating her feelings as a grieving friend to step into the familiar role of a professional homicide detective. She gently placed her hands on Charlene's body and leaned her back in the seat. She examined the woman's neck and face. One look at the woman's neck was all Michelle needed to see. “Momma Peach?”

  “I see,” Momma Peach replied and shook her head. “I also smell the faint scent of a man's cologne.”

  “Me, too,” Michelle agreed and with all the love in her heart she leaned Charlene's body forward again. Her position at time of death had to be preserved. Michelle backed away from the truck and let the icy winds tear at her face.

  “Michelle?” Sam asked with his eyes on Chief Duddles. The man really tore into Thelma, but Thelma continued to hold her ground. He heard Thelma tell Chief Duddles that America was still a free country.

  Michelle let her tears fall again. “She was strangled, Sam.”

  Momma Peach closed the driver's side door and walked over to Michelle. “I’m wondering where the little girl went.”

  “Me, too,” Michelle told Momma Peach and wiped her tears away. She looked at Chief Duddles and saw him point a threatening finger at Thelma. Thelma reached her hand out of the tow truck and slapped his finger away. “Come on,” she said and ran back to the tow truck.

  Sam gently grabbed Momma Peach's arm before she could follow Michelle. “Momma Peach, that woman was murdered for a reason. Whoever killed her could still be around, too, and Mr. Attitude standing over there isn't going to lift a finger to find the killer. As a matter of fact, I have a bad feeling that man is going to try and put a spur in our saddle to get us out of town.”

  Momma Peach wiped snow away from her eyes. “I agree with you.” Momma Peach looked into Sam's worried eyes. “Mr. Sam, what other thoughts is your mind thinking?”

  Sam tossed a thumb at Chief Duddles. “Ridge Falls is a small town, Momma Peach. From the attitude we’ve just seen, I'm worried that the killer got to the lousy cop standing over there and made a few threats at him.” Sam saw Michelle place herself between the Chief Duddles and the open window of Thelma’s tow truck. “A man like that has the spine of a wet noodle, Momma Peach, at least when it comes to defending justice and the truth.”

  Momma Peach watched Michelle order Chief Duddles to stand down in a loud, stern tone. “Oh dear, Mr. Sam, Michlle is upset.” Momma Peach got her little legs moving and hurried over to her.

  “A woman has been murdered and you're threatening to arrest an innocent woman? On what charges?” Michelle yelled at Chief Duddles.

  “For assaulting a police officer!” Chief Duddles yelled back.

  “I slapped your finger away from my face,” Thelma hollered. “You had no right to point your finger at me.”

  “And you had no right to bring these…people…to the scene of a murder!” Chief Duddles snapped at Thelma.

  “Michelle knows Charlene and she’s a homicide detective, for crying out loud,” Thelma reminded Chief Duddles and then motioned her hands at the storm. “Look, I'm not going to sit here in this storm and freeze. Call yourself another tow truck. Momma Peach, get in.”

  “You know you're the only tow truck in town,” Chief Duddles told Thelma and nearly exploded in rage. Then he forced himself to take deep, cold breaths to calm his mind. “I...shouldn't have become so angry with you Thelma. I'm sorry if you took it the wrong way,” he offered in weak apology. “I've been under some...stress...lately.”

  Michelle held her ground between Chief Duddles and the tow truck. “Chief Duddles, have you even checked Charlene’s home yet? Her office? Where’s the little girl she was fostering? The child could be in danger.”

  “Yeah,” Thelma added, “you need to locate that little Chinese girl. Maybe she knows something?”

  Momma Peach watched Chief Duddles’ face squeeze into a tight, furious ball of poison. “Don't tell me how to do my job!”

  “I was making a suggestion,” Thelma replied. “What in the world has crawled into your britches, Chief? I've never seen you act so ugly before.”

  Sam nodded at Momma Peach. Momma Peach glanced back at the red truck, looked into Sam's eyes, and nodded. “Thelma,” Momma Peach said in a sickeningly sweet voice, “I'm sure the nice police chief is doing all that he can do. I'm also sure he's frozen stiff from standing out here in this awful cold, and so am I.” Momma Peach flashed Thelma a cheesy smile. “Mr. Sam is going to drive me into town for a hot cup of coffee at the diner you told us about. Michelle will stay here with you and look around a bit. When you're finished just meet up with us at the diner, okay, honey?”

  Thelma read Momma Peach's every word loud and clear. “Sure thing, Momma Peach. We're going to be a while anyway and there isn't any sense in you two standing out here freezing your buns off.”

  Getting rid of two annoying people pleased Chief Duddles. The fewer people snooping around Charlene Readings’ death the better. “Yeah, I think that's a good idea,” he said, keeping his voice stern. “This is a crime scene and no place for civilians.”

  Michelle stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “I'll meet up with you guys at the diner,” she promised and nodded toward the SUV. “Drive very carefully, Sam.”

  Momma Peach hurried over to Thelma and hugged her through the window. “What's the home address of Charlene Readings?” she whispered. Thelma quickly whispered the address into Momma Peach's ear.

  Sam waited and when he saw Momma Peach let go of Thelma he walked over Michelle. “I'll drive safe,” he promised. “Watch your back,” he whispered in her ear without being heard and walked Momma Peach to the SUV. Momma Peach looked over her shoulder at Michelle. She did not like the idea of leaving Michelle behind with this rotten, bottom-feeder fish of a man, but she needed time to look for the little girl. “She'll be fine, Momma Peach.”

  “I still worry, Mr. Sam. That's the duty of a momma.”

  Sam helped Momma Peach into the front passenger's seat, walked around to his door, studied the storm, and then jumped in behind the wheel. “So much for fun in the snow, huh?”

  “That's right Mr. Sam, so much for fun in the snow,” Momma Peach sighed. “Let's just pray this snow doesn't prevent us from finding a very lost child.”

  “Let's just pray that child isn't in the hands of the killer,” Sam replied and cautiously backed the SUV around and drove away. “Warm enough?” he asked.

  Momma Peach hugged her arms together, nodding. She felt anxious to help Michelle and anxious to find this lost little girl, but she could not help th
ink back to all her responsibilities back in Georgia, too. She sighed, watching the snowy trees and fields flash by outside.

  “Your mind is far away from here, isn’t it?” Sam asked.

  “Oh my, yes. You know, I didn't want to leave Mandy and Rosa holding down the fort at home again. I liked the time I was being able to spend with my girls, Mr. Sam.”

  “I could tell,” Sam replied and checked the heat. “You didn't seem anxious to leave Old Joe, either.”

  “Old Joe, that back alley cat, still needs work,” Momma Peach pointed out. “He did just fine until he got a whiff of that ugly old pool hall again.”

  “Not to mention he got arrested,” Sam pointed out, wincing. It had been a very minor thing and he had been released with no charges, but it had still worried Momma Peach sick for days.

  “That too,” Momma Peach sighed and shook her head. “But we have to focus now. Mr. Sam, I love Michelle and she asks for help, I come running. Now, you know why.”

  “Yes, Momma Peach, I do,” Sam said remembering back to his little desert town and to the first time he met Momma Peach and Michelle. “I have to say you two are magnets for trouble, but I'm sure grateful you are. You two saved my life.”

  “No, Mr. Sam, you saved our lives,” Momma Peach corrected Sam. The memory of that cold, dark, damp cave underneath Sam's town occupied Momma Peach's mind. “Those caves sure were ugly, Mr. Sam.”

  Sam focused on the snowy road. “People are even uglier, Momma Peach,” he replied. “Here it is just a few days into the New Year and we're dealing with another murder case. I had hoped that the ordeal with the circus last autumn would have been our last case. And then there’s Millie...” Sam paused.

  Momma Peach glanced over at Sam. “Yes, Mr. Sam?”

  Sam moved around in the driver's seat and then settled down. “Hard to find a good driving position.”

  “Mr. Sam?” Momma Peach asked again, this time in a voice that told Sam she was not going to let him off the hook.

  Sam sighed. “Millie and I were planning on taking a two-week trip up to the lodge in Alaska,” he confessed. “When I found out you and Michelle were driving to Vermont, something in my gut told me to cancel the trip and tag along with you instead. Millie understood, of course. She's into making sculptures with metal right now, which isn't making that big old elephant on my land too happy.” Sam chuckled. “But...a trip to back to the lodge, the idea of it anyway, sounded…well, nice. I guess Millie and I are moving along in our relationship and I was kinda anxious to show her the lodge that Nate agreed to sell to me someday...I was as excited as a silly kid in a candy store.”

  “Not silly,” Momma Peach said and patted Sam's arm. “Millie is a good woman and I love her very much. She's going to make you a fine wife.”

  Sam froze. “Wife?”

  “In time,” Momma Peach smiled. “For now, Mr. Sam, we have a little baby girl to find...if whoever killed that poor woman doesn't have her already.”

  Sam nodded and resisted the urge to step on the gas. The last thing he needed to do was spin the SUV into a ditch. Instead, his eyes kept watch on the storm that gained more and more strength by the minute. “What a morning,” he whispered.

  “You said it, Mr. Sam,” Momma Peach whispered back, closed her eyes, and let her mind go to work.

  Mom's Diner was a small brick building between a hardware store and a bookstore in the tiny downtown of Ridge Falls. The building’s bricks glittered, frosted over with snow, and icicles hung from the roof. A beautiful snowflake made of bright white lights twinkled in the large front window overlooking the snowy street. “Cozy,” Sam admitted as he eased up in front of the diner and parked. “I see the open sign glowing but it doesn't look like there's any other people out today.”

  Momma Peach looked to her left and studied a white, icy sidewalk. The downtown area of Ridge Falls looked indeed deserted. “I suppose that little girl could be hiding out at Charlene Readings’ home, but something tells me we need to check out this diner first. After that we'll go take a look at the house, Mr. Sam.”

  Sam rubbed the back of his neck. He ached with cold and hunger and started to feel tired. The storm only grew worse the longer they took. He was more than sure that Momma Peach was not excited about fussing around in a strange town during a snowstorm, searching for a missing child that could be hundreds of miles away someplace, for all they knew. Even if they did manage to locate the missing child in town, Sam worried that the child would run from them. Why wouldn't she? He was a complete stranger and so was Momma Peach, and Michelle was the only one who spoke a common language with the girl, as far as he knew. “Yeah,” he said and turned off the SUV, “we'll go check Charlene Readings’ home, but if the place is locked—”

  “I know, Mr. Sam,” Momma Peach assured Sam. “We're not going to break a window or kick a door down to get inside. I sure don't want to give that grumpy cop a reason to throw us behind bars.”

  Sam rubbed his neck again. “My thoughts exactly, Momma Peach. We have to be real careful.”

  Momma Peach stared at the large snowflake in the front window of the diner. The snowflake glowed bright and beautiful, sending soft beams of light out into the falling snow. “It's a shame murder makes such a beautiful winter morning so ugly,” she said in a frustrated voice. “Any other time, Mr. Sam, and I would already be in that diner feeling my belly with warm delights and then chasing a few snowflakes with my tongue.”

  Sam watched the snow fall. The snow remained a little mysterious to him. “It's amazing how the snow seems to create an entirely different world, isn't it? I feel like I'm in an idyllic place, and the snow just makes it strange but...homey.” Sam shook his head. “I'm not good at expressing what I'm thinking.”

  “You're doing just fine.”

  Sam smiled at Momma Peach. “I'm sure glad you came into my life,” he said and patted Momma Peach on her knee. “I know this might sound a bit mushy coming from a man like me, but I've grown so fond of taking my morning walk down to your bakery and having coffee with you while you bake pies and bread in your kitchen. I get a little grumpy when I can't.”

  Momma Peach stared into Sam's warm and sincere eyes. “Oh, Mr. Sam, I love it when you come by for your morning coffee, too. We always fuss over the morning news and I listen to you talk about your town.”

  Sam blushed. “I guess I do talk about my town too much.”

  “Not at all. You just miss a place that was your home for a good many years,” Momma Peach said.

  “Yeah,” Sam said and gazed out into the snow. “I guess someday when Nate decides to sell the lodge to me I'll be getting more than my share of snow instead of desert heat and sand.”

  “You are excited about buying Mr. Nate's lodge, aren’t you?”

  “I'm excited about us buying the lodge,” Sam told Momma Peach. He pointed at himself and then he pointed at Momma Peach. “The lodge is going to belong to us.” Sam rubbed the tip of his nose. “That is…if you’ll come along. I spoke with Millie the other night and we got on the topic of your bakery and all of sudden I saw you cooking pies and breads in the kitchen at the lodge. You smiling and humming, a soft snow falling outside, Michelle and Able drinking coffee beside the fireplace...I saw this image as clear as day. Someday we’ll get there…” He cleared his throat and his smile faded. “And now look at us, sitting in a snowstorm, looking for a missing child in rural Vermont, far away from the bakery in Georgia and that pretty-as-a-picture future in Alaska.”

  Momma Peach realized that Sam needed a talking-to. The poor man's cheerful attitude had tumbled down into a gloomy dungeon. Of course, Momma Peach could not blame Sam for falling into a sad mood—confronting murder did that to people. Having your eyes soak in the sight of a dead person caused the heart to realize just how fragile life was and just how precious certain moments truly were. “Mr. Sam, the lodge is not just a place to go, am I right? You want Michelle to stop being a cop, don’t you.”

  Sam hesitated and then nodded. “I w
ant Michelle to be safe in front of warm fire talking to Able, laughing, planning for her wedding...nice things,” he explained. “I know Michelle can kick someone's teeth out of their mouth in a split second, and she's sure a good shot, too, but...well, Momma Peach, I worry about her.” Sam motioned at the snow with left hand. “Trouble follows that woman anywhere she goes. And,” Sam emphasized, “trouble follows you, Momma Peach. I don't think wanting you both safe is asking too much.”

  Momma Peach had struggled with these same thoughts many, many times. She had found peace with Michelle’s need to work as a detective, no matter how much danger it seemed to land them in. She gave Sam an understanding smile. “No, it's not. Peace of mind is very precious.”

  “It sure is,” Sam agreed and looked at Momma Peach. “Michelle isn't going to retire. Not yet, anyway. I feel in my heart that when she becomes a momma, that's when she'll hang up her badge. Until then, that woman is going to keep getting into all kinds of trouble, which means you'll be right there beside her trudging through the mud, too. You two are a pair.”

  Momma Peach grinned. “Yes, we are.”

  Sam laughed to himself. “You know I'll be trudging through the mud right along with the pair of you.”

  “Yep.”

  “Let's just hope Able proposes very soon,” Sam said in a desperate voice. “I don't understand why he hasn't already. All he does is talk about marrying Michelle, for crying out loud. You'd think those two were getting married tomorrow.”

  Momma Peach could not argue. “Mr. Sam, you're sure right about that. But you know, marriage can be a scary step to take. I think our Able is being careful. After all, Mr. Sam, he's still living with his mother and I just so happen to know a mother can fill her son's ear full of some pretty scary marriage stories in order to keep him at home.”

  “You think Able's mother is causing him to delay proposing to Michelle?” Sam asked in a surprised voice. “Nah, she's a sweet lady. Besides, he thinks the world of her.”

  “Oh yes, I love Able's mother, too, Mr. Sam, but that doesn't mean I’m blind to the woman's position. Able’s mother has been mighty lonely for years and having her son back home is soothing to her. I can't blame her for wanting to keep her son around as long as she possibly can, either.”