1 Murder on Sugar Creek Page 12

  “Hi, I’m Maggie,” she said when she reached the table. She took the woman’s slight nod as an invitation to sit and pulled out a chair. “Thanks for meeting me.” Never the kind of reporter who met unnamed sources for classified information that would break an investigative report, Maggie felt unsure about whether to dispense with pleasantries or to cut to the chase. She chose the latter. “You worked with Mac?”

  “Yeah, at the nursing home. I was – am – the administrative assistant for the maintenance department.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Is that necessary? I told you, I don’t want this in the paper.”

  “It won’t be. I just like to know who I’m talking to.”

  The lady buried her head in her hands. “I guess it’s okay. You know where I work and what I look like. I’m Jenny.”

  Between the clanking sound the metal bangles Jenny wore around her wrists produced when she rested her hands on the table and her lavish head of hair, Maggie decided Jenny was well past worrying about anonymity.

  “So, Jenny, was Mac your boss?”

  “Yeah. And, you know, as much as I don’t like him, I have to admit that he was a good boss. Believe me, I’ve had worse. When I started working at the nursing home, I was a young single mother of two little girls. Mac never got upset when I had to miss work because they were sick or because daycare fell through. Even now, I appreciate that. Most bosses give lip service to ‘family first,’ but Mac practiced what he preached.”

  “But there had to be a problem or you wouldn’t have contacted me.”

  Jenny laid her head on the table and put her hands around the back of her neck. “Ahh,” she said as she pulled herself together. “Mac was not a good person. I’ve tried not to linger on this. I thought I had gotten past it. After all, it’s been years. But then he was killed and you wrote those stories about him and it all came back. He wasn’t the person you made him out to be in the paper. He was a liar and a thief.”

  Jenny’s information didn’t exactly qualify as breaking news to Maggie. “How so?” she asked.

  “He had a few schemes going. I guess you know that the company we work for, well, in Mac’s case, the company he worked for, is based in Jasper, but they operate nursing homes across the region.” When Maggie nodded, Jenny continued, “Each of those nursing homes had one pop machine and one snack machine that we owned and operated. Mac skimmed the money from those machines.”

  Well, Maggie thought, at least he branched out of the embezzlement tree. “How?”

  “It was actually pretty easy to do,” Jenny said. “Mac’s bosses didn’t know how much money should have been in those machines at any given time. He emptied the machines, kept so much for himself, and deposited the rest. He cleaned out the machines about once a month. It’s a guess, but I’ll say he took home around a hundred and fifty dollars each time. That’s eighteen hundred dollars a year and I know he did this for at least four years.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “Get this.” When Jenny placed her hands face down on the table, more clanking ensued. “The change is heavy, so he always took a helper. One day, all of the guys were busy, so I helped him. I’m good with numbers and I counted the sacks. When we got to the bank, there was one missing. I thought it might be a fluke or an accident, so I started volunteering to go with him. And it was the same thing, every time.” Jenny held up her clanking hands, “Easy money and it can’t be traced.”

  “But how?” Maggie asked. “It should have been easy to figure out how much money the vending machines were supposed to yield.”

  “I’m sure it would have been easy, but nobody was watching. Mac stocked the machines, too. He did provide the finance office with receipts, but no one multiplied and divided and figured out how much money we were supposed to get from the machines. As long as there was a profit, they didn’t look too close.”

  “I almost don’t want to ask this question, but you said he had more than one scheme?”

  “Yeah. He also charged the nursing home more for everything from painting a room to installing a door than it actually costs. And, sometimes, he charged them a few hundred bucks for moving a couple desks from one office building to another.”

  “This doesn’t make sense,” Maggie said. “He was in charge of the maintenance department, so I don’t understand how he could charge them for work his department did.”

  Jenny scratched her head with her clanging hand. “Things have changed now, but at that time, maintenance had more work than they could handle. Mac convinced them it would cost more money to hire a couple guys than it would to use a contractor. And since Mac was so ‘honest,’” Jenny used air quotes to emphasize the word, “they believed him.”

  Maggie knew where this was heading. “And this contractor?”

  “He was in on it. They split the pot. Had to.”

  Although she already knew the answer, Maggie asked, “Who was the contractor?”

  “What was his name?” Jenny snapped her fingers in an effort to jog her memory. “It was an animal name.”

  “Bug?”

  “Yeah, that’s it. He was the guy you interviewed. He was Mac’s cousin.”

  “How much do you think they skimmed?”

  “Gosh, this is just a guess, but I’d say at least ten grand a year.”

  “Each?” Maggie didn’t realize how loudly she had spoken until the heavy-set man quit flipping through a magazine and stared at her. “Each?” she repeated in her inside voice.

  “Yeah.”

  “Does that include the vending machine money?”

  “No. That was straight-up Mac. This Bug person probably didn’t even know that was going on. And Mac also bought materials wholesale from a company in exchange for adding them to the nursing home’s vendor list. I can’t prove it, but I think that’s how he floored his store. He probably picked up some shelves and freezers free or at drastically reduced prices along the way, too.”

  Despite everything Maggie had already learned about Mac’s character, she couldn’t believe her ears. “And he and Bug kept this, uh, scheme, going on for four years?”

  “At least. That’s how long I worked for Mac, but he had been there for two years when I started.”

  “And nobody noticed anything?”

  “I don’t know about the higher-ups, but I think the guys in maintenance noticed something. I never talked about it to anyone, though. I knew it was wrong, but I had two kids to support. I’ve always felt bad about it, but no one at the nursing home can find out I so much as suspected anything. I’ve been there for a long time and I make a pretty good salary for around here. My girls will be in college soon and, now, I have even more to lose than I did then.”

  One aspect of the story troubled Maggie. “If Mac had such a good thing going, why walk away?”

  “He saw the end coming when the nursing home advertised for a purchasing clerk. He left before the position was filled. Oh, and he left a few months after his dad died, so he used that cover story about buying the property and building the store with his ‘inheritance.’” Once again, Jenny used air quotes for accentuation.

  “Did Bug’s company continue contracting with the nursing home after Mac left?”

  “Oh, no, they cut that out. Everything runs more efficiently now.”

  “Did Mac know you suspected him?”

  “I don’t think so. Mac was one of those people who thought he was smarter than everyone. He wouldn’t have dreamed that somebody was onto him.” Jenny re-arranged her bangles and checked her watch. “I have to get back to work. It was nice to talk to you. You’re much prettier in person. The picture in the paper doesn’t do you justice.”

  Maggie blushed at the compliment and stood and shook Jenny’s hand. “Thanks for talking to me. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

  Jenny nodded and walked away. She had no more clanked out of Maggie’s earshot before Maggie’s cell phone rang. When she saw Seth’s name and number pop up on the
ID, she said, “Great,” and pressed accept.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “Hey. You at lunch?”

  “No, well, yeah.” Maggie made her way out of the library and toward her car.

  Seth laughed. “Which is it?”

  “I am at lunch, but I’m not eating. I had an appointment, so I’ll just eat at my desk. What’s going on?”

  “I had a hunch about the Honaker case, so I did some digging around.”

  Maggie unlocked her car door and scrambled inside. The gray November day had succeeded in making her cold and she couldn’t wait to return to the office and heat up leftover chili. “Is this about Kevin’s mystery weed eaters?”

  “No, it’s about the security cameras in the store.”

  Maggie turned the key in the car’s ignition and cranked up the heat. “Oh. What was the hunch?”

  “I remembered hearing about the attempted robberies at the store and I thought I might see a familiar face on the security cameras.”

  “But the cameras didn’t work.”

  “Actually, they did.”

  “No way.”

  “You know my buddy who works for the security company? You know, he installed your security system?”

  “Yeah,” Maggie buckled her seat belt.

  “Well, I talked to him and, sure enough, he installed and maintained Mac’s system as well. He said Mac upgraded to a digital system about a year or so ago. Everything went straight to Mac’s computer. After each of the attempted break-ins, he went over there and performed a routine maintenance checkup, just to make sure everything was working right. Mac showed him the surveillance videos.”

  “So, who tried to break into his store?”

  “I don’t know, but it looked like the same couple of guys each time. They were wearing dark clothes and those facemasks that hunters wear.”

  Maggie put the car in reverse. “At least you tried.”

  “There’s more. Mac also had cameras inside the store.”

  “No one mentioned that.”

  “Maybe they didn’t know. They were hidden inside lights.”

  “That Mac,” Maggie said as she looked over her shoulder to check for oncoming traffic. “He was such a sneak.”

  Seth chuckled. “One of the cameras was located over the cash register. Several months back, well before the attempted robberies, Mac contacted my buddy. He was having trouble pulling up the feed on his computer. My buddy went over there and walked him through it. And guess who he saw swiping money out of the register?”

  “Kevin?”

  “No, but I think it’s interesting that he was your first guess. It was a younger boy wearing a Duke cap.”

  “Corey!” In her excitement, Maggie lifted her foot off the brake pedal and rolled down a slope and onto the street. Screeching tires alerted her to potential danger and she immediately switched gears and pulled into the parking space.

  “What’s going on there? Where are you? Are you okay?” Seth asked.

  “I’m fine. It’s nothing.” She took a moment to compose herself before asking, “How did he remember something like that? It’s been months.”

  “Are you serious? This is Kentucky. Of course, he’s going to remember a perp wearing a Duke cap. Who is this Corey person anyway?”

  “He’s Dottie’s grandson.”

  “Hmm. That’s interesting.”

  “Do you think he could have been one of the attempted robbers?”

  “It’s hard to say, but if he was stealing in broad daylight, I don’t know why he would go to the trouble of trying to break in at night.”

  Thoughts ran through Maggie’s mind like mice through a maze.

  “This looks good for Kevin,” she said.

  “Not necessarily. Don’t forget those mystery weed eaters.”

  “I haven’t. But there’s something else. If the cameras were working, then they could have captured Mac’s killer. Why hasn’t anyone checked them?”

  “They did check them. They weren’t working.”

  “Why would he suddenly turn them off?”

  “I don’t know, but just sit tight and let me see what else I can find out. I mean it, Maggie. Don’t make me regret helping you.”

  Maggie had no plans to sit tight. Once she had time to process the information she had gleaned from Seth and Jenny, she knew what she had to do.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Maggie returned to Dottie’s house bearing a gift, a pink notepad decorated with strawberries.

  “I found this at the thrift store and thought of you.” When Maggie spotted the notepad, she bought it with plans to give it to Dottie as a Christmas present. For the past three days, she had been reminding herself to get it out of the car and take it inside her house. After her impromptu decision to visit Dottie, she felt grateful for her poor memory. She also questioned her own sanity for buying a gift for a woman she now suspected of murder.

  Dottie held the notepad to her chest. “That is so thoughtful. Like I told you that first day, it means so much when someone cares enough to remember you. Come on into the kitchen. I’m making fried apple pies.”

  “Do you need some help?”

  “No, but you can keep me company.”

  Maggie stood at the end of the countertop and watched Dottie flatten canned biscuit dough with a rolling pin. “Dottie, I was wondering if I could ask you a question.”

  “Shoot.” Dottie spooned cooked apple filling into the dough, folded one side of the dough over the other, and pressed the edge of the pie with a floury fork.

  “It’s about the security cameras at Mac’s store.”

  Dottie dropped the pie into a kettle of popping grease. “I told you everything I know about those cameras.”

  “Well, this is about the cameras inside the store.”

  Dottie’s jaw tightened.

  “Do you know anything about those cameras? Do you know anything about somebody stealing money from the cash register?”

  Dottie let a canned biscuit fall to the countertop. “How do you know?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, it does. Who else knows?” When Maggie answered by chewing the inside of her mouth and biting her lip, Dottie said, “Oh, my God.” She started crying and used the stove as support.

  “Here,” Maggie motioned for her to move away from the stove. “You’re going to get burned. Let me take care of the pies.”

  Maggie didn’t expect Dottie to volunteer the information. She figured she’d have to coax the story out of her, but as soon as she collapsed into a chair, Dottie began talking. “Mac knowed there was some money missing.”

  “Did you know about the cameras?”

  “Not the ones in the store and I wasn’t sure about the ones outside. He said they didn’t work, but I never put much stock in that. That never made no sense to me. Why go to all that trouble and expense to install them if you wasn’t going to use them?”

  “Did you know about the missing money?”

  “Yeah. It wasn’t much at first, so I figured one of us had counted wrong. After it went on for a while, I reckon Mac thought I was stealing, so he looked at those videos on the computer. That’s when he saw my Corey taking the money. If he had just come to me about it then.”

  Maggie stopped rolling the biscuit. “You mean he waited?”

  Dottie’s eyes watered. “He waited months. He waited until Corey had stole enough to make it a felony. That’s when he told me. He accused me of being in on it. I promised him I’d pay him back, and I did. Every penny. But that wasn’t enough for him.”

  Maggie used tongs to extract a deep brown pie from the grease. She placed it on a platter lined with paper towels. With her chore accomplished, she pulled out the chair beside Dottie’s. “What did Mac do?”

  “He threatened to fire me and to press charges against Corey. He had all the evidence.” Maggie handed Dottie a tissue. “I know Corey wouldn’t have served time. He had never been in trouble before. Well, he had never be
en arrested before. But I couldn’t bear the thought of him getting arrested and fingerprinted and thrown into jail even if it was just for a few hours or, heaven forbid, the whole night. People don’t remember that you’re released. They just remember that you were arrested.”

  “That’s true,” Maggie agreed.

  “That boy ain’t had it easy. My daughter was no mother to him. She was too worried about running around and having a good time. Even before we got custody, he spent most of his time here. He’s been through so much. I couldn’t let him have no record. That would follow him around forever. Wouldn’t nobody hire him after that.”

  “What happened? What did Mac do to you?”

  “I reckon you call it blackmail.”

  “Mac blackmailed you?” Maggie figured Dottie, in her agitated state, had chosen the wrong word. “How could Mac have blackmailed you?”

  “Oh, Lord, I knowed it was wrong, but I was protecting Corey. That don’t make it right, though.” Dottie ran a hand through her hair, leaving white flakes of flour among the orange highlights and silver strands. “He made me take part in that lottery racket.”

  With that news, Maggie felt more confused than ever. “A lottery racket?”

  “Ever since he opened the store, Mac had been, well, stealing lottery winnings from his customers.”

  “How the –”

  “It wasn’t everybody, but he had figured out who he could scam even before I started working for him. Some of those people came in there every day and scratched off dozens of tickets. And they didn’t have the sense to figure out if they was winners. They’d show the tickets to Mac and let him scan that little code. They counted on him to be honest. Sometimes, he paid out. Other times, he lied and told them it was a dud. I seen him steal as little as two dollars from some poor fool who probably didn’t have the money to buy a can of Viennie. I also seen him steal thousands of dollars. I got the impression that, to Mac, it wasn’t about the money as much as it was about getting one over on somebody.”