Murder at Moonshiner Days Read online

  Shaking her head, Lena said, “When did people quit looking in the mirror before leaving the house?”

  “And she didn’t have a bit of shame about showing off them big ole flabby arms.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with people being comfortable in their bodies,” Maggie said.

  “They can be as comfortable as they want as long as I don’t have to see it. I don’t go around showing off my big ole belly, do I? Anyway, a sleeveless dress wasn’t the worst of it.” Gesturing to her chest, Sylvie said, “That Jennifer had that girl try on one of those dresses that come around here.”

  “A strapless dress?” Maggie asked.

  Sylvie said. “Yeah. That girl, I can’t remember her name –”

  “Her name is Blake,” Maggie said.

  “Well, she started tugging on it and that Jennifer said, ‘Too bad you don’t have boobs to hold it up.’ If that wasn’t bad enough, she said, ‘I wish we could take some of the fat from your arms and thighs and put them in your boobs.’”

  Lena threw her fork onto her plate. “You’re kidding. She talked to her child like that in public?”

  “Yes, she did,” Sylvie said. “The Lord knows I’m telling the truth.”

  “My goodness,” Lena washed down her indignation with a sip of milk. “To have that kind of talk in public and about your own daughter. Maggie’s sitting right here. She can tell you that I’ve never talked that bad to her.”

  No, not that bad, Maggie thought to herself. She asked Sylvie, “How did Blake react to this?”

  “She run into the dressing room and cried. I knowed it wasn’t none of my business, but I had to get some dresses from the room next to the one that girl was in.” Sylvie pulled a bobby pin from her gray hair, readjusted her bun, and stuck the bobby pin back into her hair before saying, “Are you sure her name is Blake? That don’t sound right. Blake’s always been a boy’s name.”

  “Any more, you can’t tell if a person is a boy or girl by their name,” Lena said. “The other day on the news they talked to couple with a little boy named Adrian. When did Adrian become a boy’s name?”

  “It’s been a unisex name forever, Mom.”

  “Unisex?” A crease formed between Sylvie’s eyes. “What in Sam Hill does that mean?”

  “It means –. Never mind. You were telling me about Blake running to the dressing room.”

  “Oh, so, I aimed to knock on the door, just to check on her, but the door was open. And she was sitting in there with her fists balled up. She was hitting herself on the legs and saying, ‘I hate her, I hate her, I hate her,’ over and over. She looked like she had a spell coming on her.”

  Maggie ignored the remaining fried potatoes and meal gravy on her plate. “When was this, Sylvie?”

  “Well, it was prom season, so I’d say early April.”

  “That was – ”

  Sylvie interrupted Maggie. “Just a week or two before that Jennifer person was killed.”

  Chapter Ten

  Maggie dropped the halved seed potatoes into the freshly-turned soil and covered them with dirt. Her cousin, Chris, trailed behind her, tossing fertilizer on the dirt and covering the potatoes, fertilizer, and dirt with even more dirt. It was a redundant task made all the more laboring by the chore’s required standing and squatting. Maggie knew she’d feel the burn tomorrow in muscles she had forgotten she had. All things considered, though, she wasn’t in agony. She toiled under a pleasant, sunny sixty-five degrees and, with each potato that disappeared into the ground, she looked forward to the fall harvest. What’s more, Chris’ constant chattering kept her entertained. Although they lived within a quarter mile of each other, Maggie didn’t often see Chris. So, every time they did see each other, she was reminded of how much he talked. In a stream of consciousness Maggie tried to follow, he ranked his favorite potato dishes, with mashed coming in first and au gratin last; listed every University of Kentucky basketball player who had been picked in the NBA’s first round; and speculated on who would win a fight between a shark and a lion. He picked the lion, rationalizing that a lion could swim, but a shark couldn’t remain on land for a lengthy battle. Maggie didn’t disagree with his logic.

  Chris talked so much that his dad and Maggie’s dad worked the other end of the potato patch to remain out of earshot. At one point, Maggie’s dad yelled across the field, “Ain’t you run out of things to say yet, Chris?”

  “Nope, Uncle Robert. I even talk in my sleep,” Chris hollered. In a more conversational tone, he added, “You know, Maggie, my wife says I really do talk in my sleep. I didn’t believe her, so she recorded me.”

  By the time they finally emptied their pail of potatoes, Chris had segued into an account of his latest trip to the barber and the stack of ungraded social studies tests waiting on his desk. Before he could launch into another tale, Maggie flipped the empty bucket over, sat down, and said, “I met Traci and Todd Taylor a couple weeks ago. I talked to them about the Jennifer Wagner murder. Did you know Jennifer?”

  Chris eased his six-foot-six-inch frame onto the ground and stretched out his legs. “I knew her just enough to say hi if I saw her at Walmart. I knew Blake from class, though. I think it’s harder to see a quiet kid like her go through a tragedy than it would be for a more talkative one.”

  “Did Blake ever act up in class or school? Did you ever see her lose her temper?”

  Chris chuckled. “No. She didn’t even lose her temper that time a girl elbowed her in the nose during a basketball game. It brought the blood, so it had to hurt. She didn’t say a word, though.­”

  “Did she ever say anything about her mom?”

  “Not to me, but our conversations revolved around essays and projects. And the only thing I knew about Jennifer is that she spent a lot of time with Phil Wainwright.”

  “You work at the high school, so Phil’s your principal, right?”

  “Yep. Phil’s a good guy. He takes care of his teachers and students. You know, I always thought he and Jennifer had something going on. I kind of figured that’s why he moved from the elementary school to the high school. So they could date. They sure were close. When he became principal, she made this slideshow about him and his life. They showed it at a reception the school had for him. She must have put in a lot of work on that. It went back years. He got really emotional that night and she hugged him and kissed him on the cheek.” Chris picked up a clod of dirt and crumbled it with his large hands. “But I guess I was wrong about them. I asked Traci about Jennifer and Phil once when she and Todd went out to dinner with my wife and me. Todd laughed, but Traci said Phil had asked Jennifer out after her husband died, but she turned him down because he wasn’t her type.”

  As Chris continued talking about Todd, Maggie thought back to her conversation with the Taylors and couldn’t recall Traci mentioning that Phil had tried to pursue a relationship with Jennifer. She had decided to contact Traci for clarification when she heard Chris say, “That Todd sure is clumsy. He showed up the other day with his arm in a sling. He said he tripped over his daughter’s toys. I accused him of trying to get out of the annual Moonshiner Days basketball game. This is the second year in a row that Todd will miss the game. The same thing happened last year, except then it was a cut on his hand.”

  “What’s that?” Maggie asked.

  “A bunch of us coaches and teachers get together every year and play a basketball game.”

  “No, what about Todd?”

  “Oh, he cut his hand opening a pack of bacon last year and he threw out his shoulder this year.”

  “When did he cut his hand?”

  “Last year, right before the Moonshiner Days basketball game.”

  “Was this before Moonshiner Days? Like a week before – ”

  “No, it was just a day or two before. I remember because the game is always held on Saturday morning, but we practice every day in the week leading up to the game. When we met at the gym on Thursday morning – ”

  “Th
ursday morning? As in the first day of Moonshiner Days?” Maggie asked.

  “Yeah. So, on that Thursday morning, he walked into the gym with a bandage wrapped around his shooting hand. I told him he was faking so he wouldn’t have to guard those big ole boys from the county schools. He unwrapped the bandage and showed us. The cut was pretty deep. I told him he might need stitches, but he said he put a dab of super glue on it. I didn’t know you could do that, but I guess it worked.”

  As Chris droned on about infections, Maggie pondered the fact that Todd Taylor had a visible cut on his hand the day Jennifer Wagner was found with a fatal stab wound.

  Chapter Eleven

  Maggie emerged from her car, took a deep breath, and appreciated the opening moments of Moonshiner Days. The town wouldn’t be packed until around lunchtime, but it did Maggie good to see folks milling around on a lovely spring morning. The smiling driver of a backfiring jalopy honked as he drove by and Maggie waved in appreciation. The old cars, the men wearing coonskin caps, and the women decked out in granny dresses represented Moonshiner Days to Maggie. Sure, for Maggie’s taste, the event featured too many giant reptiles, pan flutes, and sand artists, and she had to admit it was also on the verge of being overtaken by too many manufactured crafts and wares. But as long as the festival organizers made room for quilts, handmade crafts, and bluegrass music, she wouldn’t complain. Of course, every few years, the city council discussed adopting a less stereotypical and allegedly offensive name. But Maggie liked that the powers that be continued to acknowledge the area’s bootlegging history, even if attendees of the festival couldn’t indulge in the potent potable. Well, at least not legally.

  Maggie detected the whiff of barbecue pork in the air and thought about lunch. Although the smell of grease made her stomach contract in hunger, she resolved to avoid Moonshiner Days fare. In years past, she had taken every meal at the festival. This year, she had vowed to eat a fiber bar or bowl of oatmeal for breakfast, leftovers for lunch, and low-calorie dinners at home. Coinciding with her investigation into Jay Harris’ disappearance, Christmas had not been kind to her waistline. Her breakup with Luke, which came on the heels of the holiday, hadn’t helped. For almost four months, though, she had kept her post-New Year’s resolution to dedicate herself to healthier food choices, and she wasn’t going to allow pulled pork to lead her astray.

  She didn’t judge those who indulged, though. She took pleasure in seeing people have fun and intended to take advantage of the publisher’s lax rules during the three-day festival. She planned to do a little work, take a break, rinse, and repeat. Maggie waved at another passing jalopy before venturing inside the Sentinel’s office. She entered the newsroom just in time to hear Tyler ranting about the inconvenience of Moonshiner Days.

  “I live five minutes away, but it took me twenty minutes to get to work. Twenty minutes,” Tyler yanked on his swivel chair so hard it went flying across the floor. “Somebody needs to take control of the situation,” he snapped.

  Since learning Tyler had tricked her into interviewing Delphene and Blake, Maggie had projected a cool professionalism around him. But in the spirit of Moonshiner Days, she decided to lighten up and tease him. “Give it a chance, Tyler. You might actually have some fun.”

  “What fun? If the food doesn’t kill you, the hooting and hollering will,” Tyler said as he retrieved his wayward chair.

  Joe stepped out of his office, saying, “Get to Fifth Street, Tyler. There was a break-in there last night.”

  “Fifth Street?” Maggie said. “That’s where Jennifer Wagner lived.”

  Chapter Twelve

  As Maggie and Joe strolled through the crowded Jasper streets during lunch, Maggie felt unease and tension hanging heavy in the air. By now, word had spread of the break-in of a house down the street from Jennifer’s and every few feet they caught snippets of conversation relating to the crime.

  “It can’t be a coincidence, can it, Joe?” she asked as Joe stopped in front of a booth specializing in Philly cheesesteaks. “Someone breaking into another house on Fifth Street on the eve of Moonshiner Days?”

  “I don’t know,” Joe answered, studying the menu. “This looks pretty good, but the onions look kind of sketchy.”

  “In that case, order it without onions.”

  Joe ordered a sandwich sans onions, but with onion rings and a large lemonade.

  “I thought you didn’t want onions,” Maggie said as she and Joe lucked into an empty curbside on which to rest.

  “Not on my Philly cheesesteak.”

  Joe had just taken a big bite of the huge sandwich when Maggie spied her ex-boyfriend, Luke, walking toward them.

  “Hey,” Luke said when he reached them. Nodding to Joe, he said, “How’s the sandwich?”

  Joe made an okay sign with his thumb and forefinger.

  “Aren’t you eating?” Luke asked Maggie.

  “I had a salad at the office.”

  Joe, who had made short work of his sandwich, said, “I told her she’s crazy for eating a salad. She can have a salad any day of the year.” Joe held his fist to his chest and suppressed a burp. “You only get fine Moonshiner Days cuisine once a year.”

  “I tried to talk Ben and Edie into joining me, but they said they were ordering in and eating at the bank,” Luke said. “I’m with you, Joe. I can’t believe they’d choose to eat the same food they can get every day when this feast is right around the corner.”

  “Edie is one of those people who hates Moonshiner Days,” Maggie said. “She thinks it’s just an excuse for holler people to come to town and get drunk. I love Edie, but sometimes she can be such a snob.”

  “I’m not from a holler, I’m not even from Jasper, and I think this is great.” Luke stepped back and extended his arms. “Who couldn’t love this?”

  “You should come back later,” Joe said. “They’re having a fried Moon Pie eating contest.”

  Luke’s eyes widened. “I heard about that. I also heard a house was burglarized next door to where that woman was killed last year.”

  Shaking his head as he sucked up the last of the lemonade, Joe said, “Not next door, but yeah, that’s what we’re hearing.”

  Maggie shivered.

  “You okay, Maggie?” Luke asked.

  “Yeah, it’s scary, though. That’s a nice neighborhood, but in one year there’s been a murder and two robberies there.”

  “It makes me wonder if the rumors are true,” Luke said.

  “What rumors?” she asked.

  Luke bent down until he was eye-to-eye with Maggie and Joe. “That the killer and thief is involved with Moonshiner Days. You know, a vendor or carnival worker or visitor. From what I’ve heard, the same people do tend to come back every year.”

  “Well, if anybody can get to the bottom of this, it’s Maggie,” Joe said. When Luke raised his eyebrows, Joe added, “Maggie is looking into Jennifer’s murder.”

  Maggie recognized the disappointment in Luke’s eyes. Although other factors had contributed to their breakup, Luke had made no secret of his disdain for her sleuthing.

  “She’s definitely been successful at it, that’s for sure,” Luke said.

  Joe stood up and Maggie and Luke followed suit. Luke remained with them as they walked around town, taking in the sights. As they approached the mechanical bull ride, Luke said, “Really, what is wrong with Ben and Edie? Who could have a problem with this?”

  “I know,” Maggie agreed. They stopped long enough to watch a young woman last five seconds before the bull threw her to the ground. “Ah, that’s too bad. I thought she had good form.”

  “I guess I’ll head back to work on this high note,” Luke said.

  “Yeah, we’d better hit it, too,” Joe said. “It was good seeing you, though.”

  “You, too.” But instead of walking away, Luke remained standing in front of them.

  Maggie wondered if Luke had something more to say, so as Joe headed toward the office, she stayed by his side. As they stood
silently amidst the other Moonshiner Days participants, Maggie struggled to think of something to say, finally deciding on the reliable standby of food. “You never said what you had for lunch.”

  “Pulled pork, coleslaw, and fries. It was good.”

  Maggie rocked back and forth on her feet. “You’ll have to let Ben know what he missed.”

  “I will.”

  When Luke offered no further comment, Maggie said, “I’d better get back. We have a paper to put out today.”

  “Yeah, so, uh …”

  “Yeah?” Maggie asked with anticipation.

  “You should interview the winner of the Moon Pie eating contest. That would make a good story. I would read it. Of course, I read all your stories.”

  “I’ll do that. And thanks, you know, for reading all my stories. And for the story suggestion.” She could tell she was close to rambling, so she forced herself to stop talking before she said something she couldn’t take back.

  Maggie took Luke’s advice and covered the deep-fried Moon Pie eating contest. It was a heated competition, with the winner consuming nineteen of the chocolate-, vanilla-, and banana-flavored snacks in five minutes. He edged out the runner-up, who had just started on Moon Pie number nineteen when time expired. Maggie chatted for a few minutes with the winner as well as two contenders and the contest’s sponsor before heading to the carnival to meet up with Todd and Traci Taylor.

  She had contacted the Taylors after learning about Todd’s injuries. She felt it could be coincidental that Todd had obtained a substantial gash on his hand the same day Jennifer Wagner was stabbed to death. After all, he had suffered another noticeable injury one year later. As Chris had speculated, Todd could simply be clumsy.

  Or it could be tied to Jennifer’s death. Maggie couldn’t conceive of a reason why Todd would have killed Jennifer or of a scenario in which Todd could have cut his hand on the meat thermometer used to murder her. She hoped Todd would provide some clarity. She also hoped to draw from Traci more details on the nature of Jennifer’s relationship with Phil Wainwright.