by Emmy Grace
“You are my daughter, sugar pie. Don’t matter who gave birth to you. I consider you mine.” Miss Haddy pinches Suzie Lynn’s cheek with her gnarled fingers.
“Actually, Beebee and Momma Leona are coming for a visit. They’ll be here Wednesday. They’re staying for Thanksgiving.”
“We finally get to meet them? Well, glory be,” Miss Haddy exclaims excitedly. “That means they’ll be here for the turkey maze, which is actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“The what-y what?”
“Turkey maze. It’s a long-standing tradition in Salty Springs.”
“What’s a turkey maze?”
“It’s a split between a turkey round-up and a corn maze.”
“I’m not sure I see how those things go together.”
“Every year, Old MacDonald loans us some of his young turkeys, and we set them loose in a maze and see who can catch one and make it out the other side first.”
“That doesn’t sound too hard.”
“Sounds like you’ve never tried to catch a turkey. They’re fast as greased lightning. No one has ever managed to do it, but the kids love to try. And if I’m being honest, I think the adults love it just as much.”
“Seems like it could be fun, but what’s this got to do with me?”
Miss Haddy glances over at Suzie Lynn before she gives me a placating smile that triggers every alarm bell I have.
“We were kinda hoping you might host it.”
“Me? Why me? Who usually hosts it?”
“Well, Rosa Neely has done it for the last few years, but she moved away just before you got here. She—”
“She what?” I prompt Miss Haddy.
When she doesn’t continue, Suzie Lynn finishes for her. “She got cheated on and dumped by Henry Franks down at the funeral home.” Miss Haddy elbows her and Suzie raises her hands in a shrug. “What?”
“You shouldn’t gossip. It isn’t Christian,” she explains.
Suzie balks at Miss Haddy and then turns her gaping mouth toward me. We stare at each other for about ten seconds before we both deteriorate into wave after wave of laughter.
“Miss Haddy, you practically trade in gossip.”
“I most certainly do not.” She actually looks offended. “I speak only the truth. That’s different.”
“Haddy, if it’s not your business to tell, it’s gossip. Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not,” Suzie argues, still smiling.
“Well, it matters to me,” she sniffs, folding her hands in her lap.
I don’t want to see these two fight, so I turn talk back to something that will probably not bode well for me. “What would I have to do?”
“See, Rosa was really good with animals. She was the only one who could get near those turkeys without causing a ruckus. Just as soon as she’d start talking to them, they’d calm right down. She was an animal whisperer if I ever saw one, and we figure you’re just about the closest thing to her that we have now.”
“Why not just do something else?”
Both Miss Haddy and Suzie Lynn gasp like I just suggested we should ship in a busload of hookers to church next Sunday. “The turkey maze is Salty Springs tradition. Why, we would never dream of changing it.”
Something tells me that if Mrs. Stephanopoulos were here, she’d call me a Nazi for even intimating such a heinous thing.
“Okay, okay. Forget I asked.”
“Does that mean you’ll do it?”
I glance from one hopeful face to the other. How could I say no to them after all they’ve done for me?
I exhale loudly. “Yes, that means I’ll do it.”
Suzie claps a hand down on the table and Miss Haddy reaches over to pat my shoulder. “You won’t regret it, sugar plum. Salty Springs takes care of its own.” She gives me a nod and a wink.
I’m not sure what that means, but I’m guessing it’s something like being promised a favor from the President. The sad thing is, as much trouble as I get into, that could mean the difference between life and death for me.
We’re chatting, finishing up our coffee, when Regina knocks and pokes her head through the door. “Is this a bad time?”
“No, no. You come on in,” Miss Haddy says as she comes to her feet. “Suzie here was just taking me home.”
“You don’t have to leave on my account,” Regina tells her.
“Aw, sugar, it has nothing to do with you.” She leans in close to Regina’s ear as she passes. “Lucky’s coffee’s gonna run right through me. I need to get home to my bathroom.” She gives Regina a wink and a pat on her cheek, and hurries by her as much as a centenarian can hurry.
Suzie gives us both a wave. “See you two later.”
“We need to talk about an 80’s night. You in?” I ask before she can disappear out the door.
“Is that even a real question?”
When they’re gone, Regina sits down at the table with me. “Told you she’d be game.”
“She’ll be joining us for misadventures before it’s over with, won’t she?”
Regina picks at the remainder of my third fried Twinkie. “If you have anything to do with it, she’ll have her first experience with jail by the new year.”
“Oh, stop.” I chastise her with a wave of my hand. “Clive would never arrest Suzie Lynn.”
Regina laughs. “And that’s the only reason she won’t have to worry about getting a criminal record hanging around you.”
“You haven’t fared so bad. I mean, you’re a big wig at your job, you wear designer clothes, and you have the most amazing best friend known to mankind. Most people would probably call your life a wild success.”
“What were they doing here?” I explain the turkey maze to Regina. She shakes her head the whole time. “Please do not somehow get me volunteered to help you with this.”
“Too late. I’ll need all hands on deck.”
“So, when you suffer, I suffer. Is that it?”
“It’s best friend code. You know this.”
Regina rolls her eyes, but then brightens pretty quickly.
I should’ve known to be suspicious of it. I can only plead dulled senses due to sugar overload.
“You’re right. And best friend code states that best friends should never flake out on each other, right?”
“Right.”
By this point, my inner self should’ve been screaming ABORT! ABORT! ABORT!
“So, that means you’re going to test the automater like you said you would. It’s part of your job, and you gave your best friend your word. Right?” She’s nodding.
And she keeps nodding.
And, soon, I start nodding, too. To my hyperglycemic brain, it’s like hypnosis.
“Right,” I agree.
“Good. Because I brought it with me.” She takes a small black square out of her purse. When she hands it to me, she gets this look on her face like she’s explaining to a seven year old why not to touch the controls on the stove. “Plug it up, hit the program button and tell it which outlet to turn on, then hit save. Got it?”
“Plug it up? Tell me again how to do that,” I say with a finger to my chin and alllll the derision in my tone.
“You know as well as I do that there’s an eighty to ninety percent chance you won’t read the instructions. I’m just helping you out here.”
“I’ve read the instructions for the last—” I stop to think back, but then decide against it when I realize that she’s probably right. I don’t need to be confirming that for her. I’ll never hear the end of it. “You know what, never mind. I appreciate it. I’ll test it today.”
“Just get it plugged up, set a few outlets and use the voice command for that number when you want it on. ‘Outlet one, outlet two’,” she describes. “And so on.”
“I think I’ve got it, Regina.”
“Okay, well, call if you have trouble.” She stands and puts her purse strap over her shoulder. “I mean trouble with this. Not trouble in general. I’ve got some work to do t
o smooth things over after my evaluation.”
“Can’t you just blame it on me? I mean, I’m the one who was doing the test after all.”
In fairness, most of the mishaps that occur with our product testing have everything to do with the product or me. Rarely ever does Regina have any part in the chaos.
“Yeah, but it’s my job to make sure things run smoothly.”
“You did all you could. I didn’t drown. That says something, right?”
“I guess we’ll see.” She turns toward the door. “Call me later and let me know how it’s going.”
“Will do,” I tell her. I leave out the part about how I’ll also be snooping into Liam’s ex-girlfriend’s life. I can fill her in on that later, too.
11
It doesn’t take me long to get the automater set up. In fact, it’s so user friendly, I actually have high hopes that it will work well and I can give it a good review.
There are ten channels, so I set some ordinary things that I turn on and off, like a lamp, the television, and my curling iron. Things I use often. But to give it a fair shake, I also program some things I don’t use as often like the blender, the vacuum cleaner, and a towel warmer that Regina got me last year for Christmas. I forget to use it most of the time, but since it’s getting chilly and this is for a product test, I figured there’s no time like the present to start.
When I’m finished, I grab a jacket and my laptop, and head outside to do my research in a spot of sunshine, surrounded by all my various creatures.
For whatever reason, Gumbo fit in immediately with the rest of my furry and feathery family. The goats... Not so much. As I gaze out into the yard, it’s like looking into an animal kingdom lunchroom. Jocks to the left, jocks being the goats since they’re so much bigger, and nerds to the right, nerds being Mr. Jingles, Lucy-fur, and Gumbo. They all meander around, doing what they do best, but they stick to their side of the yard and occasionally stop to eye the other side. It’s comical to watch. I’m glad animals aren’t capable of hazing or the goats would be in trouble. With Lucy-fur involved, it would likely be pure torture.
She’d be the evil genius of the bunch.
After an hour and a half of digging into Leia Flynn, I realize I’ve learned a whole lot of not much at all. She comes from a wealthy family. No surprise there. They moved to San Francisco when she went away to college at Berkeley. Maybe they figured the nest would feel emptier if they were in the same state.
Their trail went quiet but for an engagement announcement in the local paper, the Salty Springs Sentinel, eight years ago. Leia was supposed to marry Greg Carson that fall. There’s a picture of them, but it’s fuzzy. He appears to have light-ish hair and really dark eyes. Like, really dark eyes. But there’s no indication they said, “I do”. No follow-up at all, in fact. It’s like she was engaged one minute, then bippity boppity boo, she’s living the next town over and there’s no mention of a husband. And she’s still using her maiden name.
Not that any of that is conclusive, but I find it odd that if she did marry, there would be no mention of it. And there didn’t seem to be a man present last night at her mansion. Or anyone else for that matter. Plus, she was flirting with Liam. I’m absolutely certain of it.
“Trollop,” I mutter, drawing the attention of all my babies. “None of you. I’m talking about a hideous creature of the human variety.”
She’s not hideous at all. In fact, she’s practically perfect, but I refuse to focus on the negative.
Gumbo flings back his head with a lusty snort and they all go back to doing whatever it was they were doing. And I’m back to square one, which is nowhere.
I’m staring up at the clear, blue fall sky when my phone rings. It’s Clive’s office number.
“Hey, Clive. What’s shaking?”
That is today’s ode to Foxy Brown.
“Well, hello there, lucky lady. How are you on this fine day?”
“I’m great, thank you very much. How are you?”
“Oh, well, I’ve seen better, I must admit.” His voice sounds heavy all of a sudden.
“What’s wrong?”
“I got some disturbing news there, Lucky.”
“News about what?”
“Dahlia Hayes. The medical examiner found just a small bit of tissue under her fingernails that wasn’t damaged or washed away by the water, and the DNA test results came back a few minutes ago.”
“Oh, good! Who’d it belong to?”
“That’s the thing. I’m figuring this has to be some kind of mistake, which is why I’m calling you.”
That gives me a chill of foreboding. “Clive, what did the results say?”
“It was a match to William Dunning.” I’m not overly surprised until he specifies, “Junior.”
I snap up in my chair. “Liam?”
“Yes, ma’am. Our Liam.”
I assumed he was talking about Liam’s dad, the mayor. Slick Willie himself. I can see him being involved in shady dealings with shady people. In fact, it wouldn’t be the first time. But Liam?
Our Liam?
Grouchy boy scout Liam?
“Are they absolutely sure? I mean, he didn’t even submit a sample, did he?”
“His is still on record from his time with the FBI.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, that’s about what I said.”
“There has to be more to this, Clive.”
“I know it. That’s why I’m calling you. You’re good at this sorta thing, Lucky. My hands are tied in many ways, but you… Well, you find your way around the law. I’m not saying I approve. I’m just saying we’ve only got a small window to get Liam cleared before others start sniffing around. I’ve instructed Tamala, the medical examiner, not to give out any information about the case until she hears back from me.”
“I’ll get to the bottom of this, Clive. There has to be some logical explanation.” My mind is racing, but not one part of me believes that Liam hurt that woman. “Oh, hey! Liam is the one who pulled her out of the water. Maybe that’s when his tissue got under her nails.”
“Could be, but we’d need to document how and when she scratched him.”
A slow sense of dread washes over me, starting at my head and moving all the way down to my chest. It settles there like a baby elephant.
Yesterday, I noticed streaks on Liam’s face. He said he’d scratched himself. No big deal.
Unless it was a big deal.
“Lucky, you there?”
“I’m here, Clive. Sorry. I was just thinking. I’ll get right on this. You have my word.”
“Appreciate the help, little lady.” I can almost hear him nodding. He’s such a southern gentleman.
“Thanks for calling me, Clive.”
“You were the first person I thought of besides…”
Besides Liam is what he was going to say.
“Did you talk to Liam at all?”
“Just briefly. Asked him what he’d been up to the night Dahlia went missing. He said he was home. Alone. I let it be.”
“Give me a day or two. I’ll have something for you, okay?”
“That’ll work just fine. Let me know.”
We hang up and all thoughts of Liam’s gorgeously heinous ex are gone from my mind. Liam himself has taken center stage. Liam and what might have been an outright lie.
After I get some extra food and water down for Lucky’s Creature Kingdom (I’m still working on an official name for my menagerie), I throw my hair up into a ponytail, swap pajamas for jeans and a sweater, and hightail it over to Liam’s. I’m relieved to find his truck parked at the barn as I pass. I took a chance that he’d be home working on the farm instead of out chasing leads since it’s not quite lunchtime yet.
I find him in the bigger barn, shirtless and sweaty, hefting bales of hay to scatter in the horse stalls. God bless rippling muscles and faded blue jeans.
I stand and watch him for a good two minutes before he seems to sense my presence and turns toward
me. Even though I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I feel heat blast into my cheeks. I might not have been doing anything wrong, but the things I was thinking…
Lord help.
They were not things a girl who’s trying to stay away from men should be thinking.
Not at all.
When he spots me, one side of his mouth flickers up. A hint of a grin.
It’s unexpected.
And it melts my knees.
He’s usually so controlled, but maybe I surprised him. If that’s the case, I might have to do it more often.
No, Lucky.
Down, girl.
You do not need to be surprising or admiring or otherwise thinking about Liam Dunning. He’s a coworker. That is all.
But even as I chasten myself, I know good and well things are happening between Liam and me that are far, far, far from coworker territory.
At least on my end.
Liam, on the other hand... What’s going through his head at any given time is pretty much a mystery.
“Over your mad at me?” he asks, reaching for another bale of hay.
My throat is bone dry when I swallow, but I still take a step toward him. It’s not right that a woman should want to rip a man’s clothes off this much. I’m a civilized person, for goodness sake. I have no idea what’s gotten into me.
Only I do.
Liam doggone Dunning.
“Maybe,” I say, stopping a couple of feet from him. I can smell his sweat. It’s like pine trees and soap and why are they so intoxicating? “Uh, I’ve come to ask you about something.”
He pauses, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. His belly is heaving slightly, the muscles clenching and unclenching, creating those delicious stair steps. “Okay, shoot.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t even concentrate when he’s like this. “I, uh, I was wondering if you saw Dahlia between that visit about the reunion and yesterday morning.”
“Why do you ask?”
His answer causes my eyes to pop open.
“That’s not an answer, Liam. I asked you a question.”
“And I asked you one,” he replies evenly.
“You saw her, didn’t you?” He simply stares at me, hazel gray eyes narrowed, jaw set like concrete. “She…she’s how you got the scratches, isn’t she?”