1 Murder on Sugar Creek (11 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Maggie had learned to search public
records in her college news writing class. At the time, she had considered the
assignment boring, but as she searched for the will, she felt happy to be
putting the skill to use. Fortunately for her, the records were filed
alphabetically. As she flipped through the HO book, she recognized the usual
surnames as well as a couple unfamiliar to the region. If changing my name to
Cleopatra Smith doesn’t work out, she thought to herself, I’d settle for a last
name like Holland or Holliday. But why restrict myself to H names? she argued.
That would exclude a name like Banner or Kitchen. Before she could become too distracted
by her search for a surname that doubled as a place or familiar object, she
found what she had come looking for – the last will and testament of McKinley
Allen Honaker Senior.

She skipped the part where he
attested to being of sound mind and skimmed the document until her eyes caught
the word “bequeath.”

Maggie spoke the words under her
breath, “I devise, bequeath, and give all of my residuary estate to my sister,
Mildred Essie Honaker Hall. I devise, bequeath, and give none of my estate to
my son, McKinley Allen Honaker Junior. He received his inheritance during my
lifetime.”

She made a copy of the will, walked
outside the courthouse, and pulled her cell phone from her purse. With the
over-sized umbrella protecting her from the chilly autumn rain, she dialed the
number.

“Hi, it’s
Maggie. I’m fine. And you? Good. Hey, I was wondering if I could stop by after
work. I have something to show you.”

“Don’t take your shoes off.”

Maggie balanced herself on one leg
and reached down to remove her galoshes. “If I keep them on, I’ll track rain
and mud onto your floor.”

“That’s why the good Lord made rugs
and cleaning rags. Now, you get over here and sit down before I call your
mommy.”

Maggie did as Sylvie ordered.

“You called so late that I didn’t
have time to make nothing for you to eat, but I put some Deluxe Grahams out.”

“Oh, thank you.” Maggie reached for
a cookie as Sylvie eased herself into her recliner and picked up a block of
material to embroider. “What are you working on?”

“It’s going to be a quilt of the
state flowers.” Sylvie turned the block around so Maggie could see. “Each block
will have a different state’s flower. This one is Georgia.”

“That’s lovely.”

Sylvie resumed stitching. “Now,
what did you want to show me?”

Maggie waited until she finished
chewing her second cookie before showing Sylvie the paper. “Mac’s dad left everything
to his sister,” she pointed to the paragraphs that detailed how he wished to
bequeath his estate, “and he deliberately left nothing to Mac.”

Sylvie ceased stitching and studied
Maggie’s face. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing. Well, next to nothing. I
like mysteries and I’m not sure Kevin Mullins is guilty.”

“So, you’ve been meddling.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way.”

“I would.” Sylvie returned her
attention to the Cherokee rose. “Is that why somebody tried to snatch your
dog?” When Maggie looked to the floor, Sylvie said, “That’s right. I’ve been
talking to your mommy. She thinks you and that boy you’ve been seeing are off
your rockers or taking that LSD. I had a notion there was more to it.”

“Please don’t tell her. They’ll
just worry.”

“And they should.” Sylvie sighed.
“Why’d you bring this to me?”

“Because you seem to know
everything. I thought you might know what he meant by ‘received his inheritance
during my lifetime.’”

Sylvie frowned. “It could be as
simple as McKinley deeding him the land his house sits on before he died. Maybe
McKinley thought Mac didn’t need two houses and was afraid he’d sell the homeplace.
People take that kind of thing to heart. They can’t stand the idea of their
house and land going outside the family. And that would explain why he gave it
to Mildred. Or it could mean that McKinley dished out money hand over fist to
keep Mac out of trouble. Maybe he reckoned Mac got his while he was alive and
didn’t deserve no more.” Sylvie raised her eyebrows. “This doesn’t surprise me.
It never made no sense to me that Mac used his so-called inheritance to build
that store. What inheritance? McKinley wasn’t no rich man.”

“Bug said Mac took out a loan to
cover what his inheritance didn’t cover.”

“Could be, but I wouldn’t believe nothing
Bug said. He’s only repeating Mac’s lies. I never believed Mac got that money
from McKinley. According to that will, I was right.”

“Had you heard about the will
before this evening?”

“No, but Mildred was quiet and not
the kind to go around airing her family business.”

“How did you think she ended up
with the house?”

“I figured Mac sold it to her. But
that didn’t make no sense. She was a frail old lady and had her own house above
town.”

Above town, Maggie thought, score
one for Mom. “Who lives in the house now?”

“One of Mildred’s grandsons. He’s
her girl, Bernice’s, boy.”

Score one for Daddy, Maggie
thought. “So, where did Mac get the money?”

“That’s the million dollar
question.” Sylvie snipped the end of the piece of yellow thread she had just
pulled through the fabric. “Not to change the subject, but let me tell you
something else. Remember I was telling you about Dottie’s no-count grandson?
You’ll never guess what he’s done now. When Dottie’s sister went up to Tennessee back in the summer, she had Dottie watch her place for her. You know, check on
the cat and get the mail. That sort of stuff. One day Dottie sent that boy. Well,
you know how those credit card companies are always sending those approved
cards in the mail? That makes me so mad. If I wanted a credit card, I’d have
one by now. So, this Corey gets one of those letters out of the mail and
activates it. But it’s in Dottie’s sister’s name. He’s plumb ruined her credit,
but Dottie won’t hear a word against him. She defended him and accused somebody
else of doing it. The sisters ain’t even speaking. I’ll say one thing, though.
Thieving ain’t right but I didn’t think the boy had enough gumption to steal a
candy bar let alone make a phone call.”

Corey hadn’t made much of an
impression on Maggie during the thirty seconds they spent together, but she
couldn’t imagine it would take much gumption to fill out a credit card
application. “What?” she asked Sylvie. “You were saying something.”

“I was trying to tell you about
Mac’s first wife.”

“Rhonda?”

“Yes, Rhonda.” Sylvie pursed her
lips. “Just so happened that I was talking to a woman I used to sew with. We
did alternations for that fancy dress shop in Jasper. She’s got the arthritis
now and can’t even hold a needle, but they was a time when that woman would
have put me and even your mommy to shame. Well, she lives in the same apartment
building that Rhonda lives in and I call her every week to check on her and see
if she needs anything. You know what she told me?”

“No,” Maggie leaned forward. “What?”

“She don’t get the paper, but one
of her friends brings her a month’s worth of them after she’s finished with
them. She must not listen to the radio or watch the news cause she didn’t know
about Mac getting himself killed until she saw it in the paper weeks after the
fact.” Sylvie took her eyes off the quilt and looked at Maggie. “Can you
believe that? People choosing to stay so ignorant of what’s going on around
them. Anyway, she asked if he was the insurance agent that ripped me off. I
said, ‘Yes, that was him.’ That’s when she told me she had seen him before. She
said he visited one of her neighbors every few weeks.”

“Rhonda?” Maggie exclaimed.

“Once she described her and told me
she used to work in Walmart’s deli, I knew who she was talking about.”

Maggie smiled and said, “You’re
wonderful, Sylvie. You know everything.”

“You would,
too, if you paid attention. But your mommy always said you couldn’t keep your
nose out of a book or your face turned away from that TV. I guess all it took
was a real-life mystery to get you interested in your neighbors.”

Ben and Edie stared back at Maggie
with bewildered expressions. She assumed her request for Mac Honaker’s banking
history had confused them and endeavored to explain herself.

“Like I said, I’ll understand if
you can’t access the information or if you feel it’s unethical to share, but I
really need to know if Mac had a mortgage on the store.”

Edie looked at her husband, “Can
you believe her?”

“I’m sorry,” Maggie said. “I
understand.”

“No, you don’t,” Edie said. “It has
nothing to do with breaking the confidentiality of bank clients. Well, it does
have something to do with that. But, basically, we can’t believe you’re still
looking for Mac Honaker’s killer. Doesn’t the Barnaby kidnapping mean anything
to you?”

Maggie gasped. “How can you ask me
that? Somebody came into my house and temporarily kidnapped my dog. They didn’t
steal anything or physically hurt me, but Barnaby and I are the victims of a
home invasion. I wake up in the middle of the night, thinking I’ve heard
someone walking in the house. When I do sleep, I relive the night in my dreams,
only this time I either don’t find Barnaby or I find him injured and dying. So,
yes, it does mean something to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Edie put her arms
around Maggie. “Quit shaking. You’re safe and so is Barnaby.”

Maggie wiggled out of Edie’s
embrace. “Don’t you understand? It’s not just about Kevin and justice anymore.
The person who killed Mac Honaker is the same person who took Barnaby. I need
to find out who did this.”

Edie put her hands on Maggie’s
cheeks. “And don’t you understand? You could be next.”

“Uh, just to make things clear,”
Ben offered, “I’m not accessing Mac Honaker’s file and, Edie, you shouldn’t,
either. If something comes up, they can track who’s been looking at each file
based on our passwords. With that being said, I checked Mac’s account when
Carla came in to ask for an extension on her loan.”

“Why did you do that?” Edie asked.

“Because the mortgage on their house
was in both of their names and because I was curious. I could say I was
applying due diligence and checking the household’s standing, but I did it
because I knew Mac.”

“What did you find out?” Maggie’s
voice betrayed her optimism.

“I don’t
remember the exact figures, but he was doing all right. He wasn’t rolling in
the dough, but his head was well above water. To answer your question, there
was no other loan payment. In fact, unless he went with another financial
institution, which would have been highly unlikely considering that his family
has banked with us for decades, Mac never had a mortgage on the store.”

After Maggie took Barnaby out to do
his business, she fed him and warmed up leftover lasagna for herself. She
flipped through the TV channels as she ate and, finding nothing of interest,
picked up the index cards and read them for what seemed like the millionth
time. When she got to Mac’s, she said, “Stole from two employers.” She waved
the card in the air and pondered, “Why didn’t I think of that before?”

Chapter Seventeen

Before she
began combing through the obits and press releases the following day at work,
Maggie sent a personal email. “You say Mac Honaker was no saint and to ask
anyone who worked with him. Does that include you? Did you work with him?”

“The sun fooled me,” Maggie
buttoned her gray pea coat. “I thought it would be warmer.”

“You’re the words-woman, but I
think the term brisk describes this day,” Luke said.

Maggie applied lip balm. “It does
and I’m thankful the wind isn’t blowing or it would be a brisk, blustery day.”

“Blustery? Why does that remind me
of Winnie the Pooh?” Before Maggie could answer, Luke said, “Hey, isn’t that Detective
Heyward? Isn’t he the one who checked the premises, so to speak, after the
Barnaby-napping?”

Maggie followed Luke’s gaze across
the street. “Yeah, that’s Seth.”

“Let’s go over and say hi.”

Maggie appreciated Seth for taking
personal time to check the barn, for giving her advice and, for the most part,
keeping his lectures in check. Yet, for a reason she couldn’t define, she
didn’t feel like seeing him. Nonetheless, she accompanied Luke across the
street and into the path of Seth, who was walking so rapidly he almost ran into
Luke.

“Sorry about that,” Seth
apologized.

“Hey, it’s on me. I stepped in front
of you.”

Seth moved forward, but stopped
when he saw Maggie. “Well, hello. Are you guys out for an afternoon stroll?”

“No, we’re headed to the sub shop.”

“Yeah, I guess it is that time. I
forgot, but my stomach will remind me.” Seth looked from Luke to Maggie, “Are
you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“Oh, where are my manners? Luke
Anderson, this is Detective Seth Heyward. Seth, this is Luke.”

As the men exchanged handshakes,
Luke said, “I wanted to thank you for checking out the house for Maggie and
convincing her to install a security system. It set my mind at ease.”

“It was no problem. I was happy to
help.” Seth grinned. “I detect a little bit of an accent. You’re not from
around here, are you?”

Luke laughed. “You caught me. You must
be a good detective.”

The men’s banter put Maggie on edge.
“It was nice seeing you, Seth, but we have to get to lunch. We only get an
hour.”

Seth held up one finger. “Could you
squeeze in a minute for me?”

“I guess,” Maggie answered.

The men shook hands again and Seth
said, “Luke, it was good to meet you.” He motioned his head down the sidewalk
and said, “Maggie.” After they had walked a few feet away, Seth said, “Running
into you guys saved me a trip.” Before Maggie could ask why he wanted to talk
to her, he said, “Edie called me.”

“That was fast,” Maggie rolled her
eyes. “I just talked to her last night.”

“She’s concerned about you, and
she’s not the only one. But I know it won’t do a bit of good to try and talk
sense into you. I do have one question, though. Robert and Lena think you’re
hallucinating or something, but what about him?” Seth nodded his head toward
Luke.

“I guess they think he’s
hallucinating, too.”

“You know what I meant.” When
Maggie didn’t answer, Seth said, “Edie’s pretty sure he doesn’t know what’s
going on, so what does he think about all this? Doesn’t he think it strange
that someone broke into your house and let your dog out?”

Maggie shrugged. “I don’t know. The
subject hasn’t come up.”

“Huh,” Seth said. “Here’s another
question – why haven’t you told him what you’ve been up to? Why haven’t you
confided in him or your parents?”

Maggie’s mood shifted from on edge
to edgy. “That’s none of your business and I don’t appreciate getting a lecture
from you, especially on a sidewalk in the middle of town.”

Seth held up his hands. “Point
taken and, like I said, I know it won’t do any good to try and convince you to
drop this. You’re going to do what you’re going to do. So, if that’s the case,
I’ll help you.”

Maggie narrowed her eyes. “What’s
the catch?”

“No catch, but I’ll help you on my
terms.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I talked to a buddy
of mine with the state police and he shared some information you might find
interesting.”

“Well? What is it?”

“You remember how your pal, Kevin,
said he got the money to pay Ray Short?”

“Yeah. He sold stolen weed eaters.”

Seth made a
clicking sound with his mouth. “That’s the thing. Kevin can’t remember exactly
where he stole them from or who he sold them to. That kind of makes you wonder
– where did Kevin get that money?”

When Maggie and Luke reached the
sub shop, she ordered a cold cut with tomatoes and mayonnaise, but she didn’t
feel like eating.

“You okay?” Luke asked.

“Yeah.”

“Did Detective Heyward say
something to upset you? Was it about Barnaby?”

“No, well, not exactly.”

Luke set his cup on the table.
“Maggie, maybe this is out of line, but I’m going to go for it. Do you and Detective
Heyward have a history?”

Maggie had zoned out to a world of
stolen weed eaters and alibis, but Luke’s question brought her back to the
present. “Why would you ask that?”

“I noticed a, I don’t know,
familiarity between you two. I know I have no right to ask,” Luke shrugged,
“but I’m asking anyway.”

Maggie moved a crumb of bread
around her plate. “Yeah, we dated for a few years. I didn’t think I needed to
tell you the names of everyone I’ve dated.”

“You don’t and I feel like a jerk
for asking. And I’m not jealous, just curious.”

“It’s been over for years.”

“What happened? I mean, if you want
to talk about it.”

“We were pretty serious.” She rubbed
the crumb between her fingers until particles of dough materialized on the
plate. “Actually, we were pretty serious from the beginning. Anyway, we had actually
gotten engaged, but we couldn’t agree on kids. I don’t want them and having
children was important to him. We couldn’t get past it, so we broke up and
moved on. He got married –”

“He’s married?”

“Yeah. He met her a few months
after we broke up and they were married like that,” Maggie said with a snap of
her fingers. “We’ve remained on friendly terms. I see him here and there. I
hope that’s not a problem for you.”

“It’s not. I just noticed the –”

“Familiarity?”

“Familiarity, and thought it would
be unfair if I didn’t ask. Not quite a lie by omission, but close.”

Imagine that, Maggie thought, a lie
by omission.