1 Murder on Sugar Creek Page 10
“No, you don’t. I’m paying for mine and Mother’s. We ain’t on relief,” Robert had said.
Despite these minor blemishes, Maggie proclaimed the outing a success. As her parents continued to discuss the meal, her eyes drifted to the Sugar Creek landscapes. She saw Mac Honaker’s store and the tops of bare trees that lined Sugar Creek Mountain. When Mac’s house came into view, she remembered discussing the home with Rhonda. Usually not a fan of asymmetrical architecture, Maggie made an exception for the Honakers’ English cottage. It wasn’t the biggest or most expensive home on Sugar Creek, but Maggie considered the house and its pale yellow door the most inviting. As they passed the residence, Maggie asked her parents, “Was Mac Honaker raised in that gray house beside his cottage?”
“Yeah,” Lena answered. “But it was a white house when he lived there.”
“Who lives there now?” Maggie asked.
“Bernice’s boy.”
“No,” Lena corrected Robert. “It’s Blanche’s boy.”
“No, it’s Bernice’s,” Robert countered.
“No, Bernice’s boy has light-colored hair and Blanche’s boy has darker hair. The boy that lives there has dark hair, so he must be Blanche’s boy.”
“Well, he must have dyed it cause Bernice’s boy lives there.”
“I know what I’m talking about,” Lena grumbled.
“So do I,” Robert retorted.
“Enough,” Maggie interjected. “Who are Blanche and Bernice?”
“Mildred’s girls.”
“Who’s Mildred?”
“She is, well, she’s dead now so I guess she was Mac’s aunt,” Lena said. “She was a sister to his dad. She married a man from above town. That’s where they lived and raised their girls. They ain’t girls no more. They were about Mac’s age.” Lena addressed Robert. “Am I right?”
“Almost. They lived below town.”
Maggie held up her hands. “Above or below? It doesn’t matter. How did the son of Blanche or Bernice end up with the house?”
Lena shrugged. “I guess he bought it. Or Blanche bought it for him.”
“I’d say that’s right,” Robert offered. “Except it was Bernice.”
When Maggie heard Tyler and Joe, whose exchanges had been coolly professional since their spat, discuss the logistics of obtaining the list of indictments, she volunteered to pick up the papers.
“I need to go to the courthouse anyway, so I’ll swing by and get the indictments for you, Tyler. I know you’re waiting on a phone call from the school board and you have to finish that story and write the city council story as well. Not to mention peruse the indictments for a juicy headline.”
Tyler stared at Maggie and cracked his knuckles. Joe looked out the window. “It’s raining,” he said.
“I have an umbrella.”
“If you’re sure about this, it would help Tyler finish his stories and that would help me put the paper to bed by deadline.”
Maggie smiled. “I’m a team player, Joe, and it’s no big deal. I was going there anyway.”
Actually, she wasn’t. At least not until she overheard Joe and Tyler’s conversation, which she interpreted as a sign from the universe. She grabbed her UK umbrella and headed for the courthouse. In addition to obtaining the indictments, she planned to swing by the public records room and search for Mac Honaker’s father’s will.
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 e
vening?”
“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?”