Murder at Catfish Corner: A Maggie Morgan Mystery Read online

  Maggie nibbled on a fry and questioned her decision to order a hot dog. She didn’t know how she could ask questions and take notes with a hot dog in her mouth and mustard dripping down her chin, so she pushed it aside and focused on the fries. “When I looked back on our meeting at the clinic, I started thinking that, perhaps, you had edited your responses to my questions to protect Stella.”

  A smile spread across Dr. Griffith’s face. “How so?” she asked.

  “Just that maybe you hadn’t shared your true feelings about Hazel. Basically, I want to know what you thought of her.”

  “Basically, I liked her. But let me go back. Since we’re being honest, I need to apologize if I seemed to have an attitude the day you and Stella came to the clinic. I was stressed and harried and tense. And you’re right. I didn’t want to say anything that might bother Stella.”

  “No apology necessary.”

  “As for Hazel, I’ve known her my entire life. I spent a lot of time in my dad’s office, so I grew up around her. And, let me tell you, she ran that office like a drill sergeant. My dad was a good, kind-hearted man.” Dr. Griffith popped another cherry tomato into her mouth and nodded her head. “He reminded me of Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird. If a patient didn’t have the money to pay, Dad accepted everything from fresh milk to firewood as payment. That irritated my mother and Hazel. Dad might have been able to fight one of them, but not both. They would gang up on him and tell him he couldn’t pay the bills with milk.” She smiled. “They were right, but so was he. What was he supposed to do, turn away people who needed help?”

  “It sounds like he was a good man and, as a fellow Daddy’s girl, I can definitely relate.” Maggie reached for a fry, but couldn’t resist the temptation any longer and dug into the hot dog. As soon as she could speak, she said, “Stella was right. This is an amazing hot dog.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Maggie laughed. “I noticed that Stella called you Vanessa. Did Hazel call you by your first name, too?”

  She twisted her mouth into a scowl. “Yes and that was a sticking point with us. I considered it disrespectful and asked her to call me Dr. Griffith. She argued that she didn’t call my dad Dr. Griffith and she said she wasn’t about to start with me.”

  After finishing another bite of the hot dog, Maggie asked, “I thought you were married?”

  “I am, but I use my maiden name professionally. I was Dr. Griffith when I came back here and I didn’t see any need to change my name. I also wanted to honor Dad and continue the tradition of a Dr. Griffith running the clinic.

  “You married a local man?”

  Dr. Griffith’s face glowed as she answered, “I did. We went to school together and ran in the same circles, but didn’t reconnect until I came home. He manages my office.”

  “How did that go over with Hazel? I thought she was nurse slash officer manager?”

  “She was, and his addition to the staff did not sit well with her. Hazel wasn’t a fan of change. She didn’t exactly roll out the red carpet for me when I returned home.”

  “Why did you come back to Geneva County?”

  The doctor finished the last of the salad’s crispy lettuce and said, “It all goes back to that quote.”

  “What quote is that?”

  “I can’t remember it precisely, but it basically means that any doctor could have done the job I had in Cincinnati, but only I could have come back here and worked in my dad’s clinic. I felt a calling to return.”

  “Has it been a successful return?”

  “I think so. Out of respect for Dad, I didn’t so much as suggest changes while he was alive, but I’ve put my own stamp on the clinic while maintaining the spirit in which it was founded.”

  Maggie misjudged the size of the last bite of hot dog and struggled to chew and swallow without choking. Once she had managed to finish, she gulped water.

  “You really shouldn’t take such big bites,” the doctor cautioned. “You could easily choke. Besides, it’s not good for your digestive system.”

  “I know and I apologize for my table manners. I guess my holler roots are showing.”

  “‘Holler roots.’” Dr. Griffith smiled. “You’re funny, Maggie. If I had time for a social life, we could go shopping for shoes or gossip over martinis.”

  “I’m not a shopaholic and alcohol gives me a hangover, but I’ll keep that in mind.” Maggie coughed, took another drink of water, and steered the conversation back to the clinic. “What were some of the changes you made?”

  “I opened the clinic one Saturday a month, I asked the receptionist to start wearing scrubs, I redecorated the lobby and the entire clinic and brought them into this century.”

  “You said Hazel wasn’t a fan of change, so what did she think about all this?”

  “She fought me every step of the way. She even tattled on me to my mom.”

  “Really? That sounds childish and controlling. What did your mom say?”

  “Mom took Hazel’s side. She told me I should have consulted Hazel before making changes at my clinic. I let Mom and Hazel know that I was not about to be as accommodating as Dad had been. I don’t know how forthcoming Stella has been about Hazel, but she insisted on, well, controlling everything. My mom has told me about how Hazel tended to her husband. Maybe I’m over-analyzing her, but I think that was another form of control. She wanted him to depend on her and he did. Still, in hindsight, she handled her divorce better than I would have predicted. Then again, she had her hatred of Earnest and his girlfriend to help get her through the day.” When Maggie laughed, she added, “With all that said, I regretted Hazel’s departure. She was an excellent nurse and the patients loved her.”

  “Have you reflected on your last meeting with her?”

  Reaching for her purse, Dr. Griffith stopped and asked, “What do you mean?”

  “The first time we talked, you couldn’t remember what you and Hazel had discussed that day. I thought time might have provided you with the opportunity to think back to that final conversation and recall what was said.”

  “Nothing more has come to mind and that bothers me. If I had known it would be the last time we spoke, I would have paid more attention to her words. But if treating the sick, the infirmed, and the elderly has taught me anything, it’s that life rarely lets us in on the secret that we’re seeing someone for the final time.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Maggie and Luke strolled hand-in-hand through downtown Jasper.

  “It’s a nice evening for a walk,” Luke said. “A little muggy, but nice.”

  “Yeah, and I definitely need this walk. I’m still trying to work off the footlong hot dog and fries I inhaled last Saturday. It depresses me to think of all those empty calories taking up residence in my waist and thighs.”

  Luke laughed. “I’m sure one hot dog and a few fries won’t do that much damage. What caused you to give into temptation?”

  “I told you, I went to Sassafras on Saturday.”

  “Ah. I forgot. Were your conversations that stressful?”

  “Not so much stressful as confusing. I know you don’t want to hear about this, so let’s talk about something else. Wasn’t the concert wonderful?”

  “Eh, I guess it depends on your definition of wonderful.”

  Maggie stopped walking and stood facing Luke on the sidewalk. “Oh, come on, it was a great way to start Jasper’s Summer Under the Stars Concert Series. And don’t tell me you don’t think the singer sounded a little like Randy Travis.”

  Luke shrugged. “I guess he did, but that’s not something that impresses me.”

  Maggie withdrew her hand from Luke’s. “I don’t know if I can hold hands with someone who doesn’t appreciate Randy Travis.”

  “It’s too late. You already have,” Luke said and reached for Maggie’s hand.

  “You have a point.” Maggie giggled. “I guess we’ll have to accept each other’s imperfections and celebrate the things we have in commo
n including our decision to plan a last-minute trip to the Grand Canyon.”

  “It’s not last minute. We have a couple weeks.”

  “I know. It’s just that I’m used to planning trips months in advance. I won’t even go to Lexington on the spur of the moment. This is a new and exciting way of living for me.”

  “I’m happy that I’ve added some excitement to your life.” Luke kissed the top of her head and they resumed their walk. They had barely taken two steps when Maggie heard someone calling her name. She turned to see Kevin Mullins, a childhood friend of her brother’s, and a woman approaching.

  “Hey, Kevin, it’s good to see you,” Maggie said. “Were you guys at the concert?”

  “Yeah. Dad and Rhonda were there, too.”

  “Shoot. I wish I had seen them. How are they doing?”

  “They’re doing great. I sure am happy you fixed them up. After Mom left us, Dad gave up where women was concerned. I think he always hoped Mom would come back. But him and Rhonda, they get along just fine.”

  “I guess you could say Maggie helped more than one Mullins man,” Luke said.

  “That’s what I say. I tell everybody that you saved my life.” Kevin looked to his companion. “Don’t I say that all the time? I reckon people get tired of hearing me say it, but I don’t care cause it’s the truth. If it hadn’t been for you, Maggie, they would have railroaded me for killing Mac and I’d be in prison.”

  “Quit giving me so much credit and introduce me to your friend.”

  Kevin made his introductions and the couples continued down the sidewalk. When they reached the Jasper Sentinel’s parking lot, Maggie said, “It’s been a great evening, but this is where I leave you guys.”

  Before they could say their goodbyes, Kevin’s date exclaimed, “Look at that car.”

  Maggie, Luke, and Kevin turned in unison and saw a car with a broken driver’s side window.

  Maggie gasped. “That’s my car.”

  “Wonder what happened?” Kevin asked. “You think maybe some kids were out here playing and broke the window?”

  Maggie walked to the car, crunching gleaming glass beneath her feet, and examined the shattered window. Luke joined her and said, “Did you leave paper lying in your seat?”

  “No. Why?”

  Luke directed his head toward the car. “There’s paper in your front seat.”

  “How’d that get in there?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Luke said, bending to his waist and extending his arm inside the car.

  “Be careful,” Maggie advised. “There’s glass everywhere.”

  Luke pulled his hand through the broken window and read the piece of paper. He looked up from it and said, “I’m calling the police.”

  “Why? What does it say?” Kevin asked.

  Luke handed the note, which had been written with a black marker and in all caps, to Maggie. He wrapped his arms around her and said, “It says, ‘CONSIDER THIS A WARNING.’”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Maggie slept little that night. Every time Mr. Sandman came to her, she shook him off and returned in her mind to the Sentinel parking lot. Although she tried to convince herself that kids had smashed her car window and threatened her as a prank, she suspected the vandalism was tied to the Hazel Baker investigation. She hugged her pillow to her chest and said, “This means I’m getting too close and that it was murder.”

  She dragged her tired and drowsy body out of bed at daybreak and shuffled into the living room to let some light into the room. “Oh, no,” she said when she pulled the cord on her blinds. Until that moment, her focus had remained on the damage to her car as well as to a possible connection to Hazel. The empty driveway reminded her of another worry. “How am I going to explain my missing car to Mom and Daddy?” she asked herself.

  She considered her options while helping her mom prepare breakfast. Maybe they won’t notice, she thought to herself. Maybe I can pay out of pocket for a rental that looks like my car. Maybe that will fool them. Maybe I won’t need to mention it.

  By the time she and Lena had set the sausage, gravy, biscuits, and fried apples on the table, she had come to her senses. She knew she would have to tell them as soon as she mustered the nerve to do so. She cleaned her plate of sausage and gravy and said, “That gravy was a perfect consistency, Mom. Not thick, not runny. Just perfect.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It is good,” Robert agreed and shoved a piece of biscuit dripping with a mixture of gravy and strawberry preserves into his mouth.

  Maggie’s eyes drifted to Lena’s plate. Whereas Robert ate so rapidly that she doubted he even tasted the food, usually a colorful mixture of meat, starches, vegetables, and fruit, Lena cut her food into small pieces and chewed deliberately, never allowing individual portions to touch.

  “We won’t have any more canned sausage for a while. I opened the last can this morning,” Lena said.

  “Well,” Robert said, “I guess we can make some more this week.”

  “No, we can’t,” Lena said. “The beets are ready to can, and we’ve got a bushel of beans to string and put up this week. Besides, I’m not canning sausage in hot weather.”

  Robert reached for the fried apples and said, “Then I guess it’s no more canned sausage until fall.”

  Maggie had hoped her parents would bicker about the sausage for a few minutes and allow her to strategize. When that failed to happen, she decided that now seemed like the perfect time to ask her mom about her name.

  “Mom, have you ever noticed that people call you Lena?”

  Lena directed her eyes toward Maggie and studied her daughter. “Yes, Maggie,” she said, “I have noticed that people call me by my name.”

  “That’s not what I meant. Around here, I’d expect them to call you Lennie or Leannie. Wonder why they don’t?”

  “I’ve never thought about it.”

  “Do you think it’s because you were named after Lana Turner? I know you’ve said the midwife misspelled your name on the birth certificate, but maybe it was Lana’s presence in the back story of your name that subconsciously convinced people to use the correct pronunciation. After all, I doubt that even folks around here would have called her Lannie Turner.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My name is my name and that’s what people call me.”

  Maggie could have continued rambling, but she didn’t see the logic in prolonging a one-sided conversation. She opened a jar of honey Boone Osborne had given them, used a fork to hold the comb against the jar, and poured honey onto her plate. As she stirred a spoonful of butter into the honey, she said, “Would you all mind if I used your car for a few days? I hate to ask. I know it’s an inconvenience, but it can’t be helped.”

  Robert shoveled apples into his mouth, chewed them a couple times, swallowed, and said, “It’s okay with me as long as it’s okay with your mother. Why do you need it?”

  “I don’t have a car right now.”

  “What do you mean?” Lena asked.

  “Yeah, where’s your car?” Robert asked.

  “It’s in a garage.”

  “A garage?” Lena’s head pivoted toward Maggie. “Did you have a wreck yesterday? Why didn’t you tell us? Were you hurt?”

  “I didn’t wreck and I’m fine. Someone broke my driver’s side window last night while Luke and I were at the concert. You know, you all really should have gone to the concert. Daddy, you would have loved it. The singer sounded a lot like Randy Travis.”

  Lena pushed her plate out of the way and said, “I thought we told you we didn’t see the point in driving into Jasper to sit outside in the dark and let gnats eat us up and risk getting rained on just to listen to music. If your Daddy wants to hear somebody who sounds like Randy Travis, he can pop one of those CDs into the tape player and listen to the real thing. Now, about your car –”

  “It didn’t rain. It was a beautiful evening and the whole point of Summer Under the Stars is, well, having the c
oncerts outside. Under the stars.”

  “Somebody broke your window?” Robert asked. “How did that happen?”

  “I’m not really sure, but as it turns out, I ran into Kevin Mullins last night and he called a buddy of his who owns a body shop. They towed the car for me and Kevin got me a deal on the window. Kevin said his dad and Rhonda were at the concert, too, but I didn’t see them. I’m really happy for Randy and Rhonda. They deserve to find happiness.”

  “Maggie, I’m not interested in hearing about Randy Mullins’ love life. I’m interested in hearing more about this window.”

  “Well, Mom, like I told you, it was broken during the concert.”

  “And that’s all?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  Lena narrowed her big brown eyes until they looked like slits. “Pretty much? What are you not telling us?”

  Maggie sighed. “Don’t freak out. I’m sure it’s nothing, but there was a note inside the car.”

  “What did this note say?”

  “‘Consider this a warning.’”

  Lena patted the kitchen table. Robert’s eyes remained on Maggie. “What would somebody want to warn you about?” he asked.

  “I don’t know and maybe it wasn’t even meant for me. They could have vandalized the wrong car.”

  “Wrong car, my big toe,” Lena said. “It’s as obvious as the nose on your face.”

  Robert held out his hands, shrugged, and said, “It ain’t obvious to me.”

  “It has something to do with that woman that drowned over on Sassafras.” Lena said, turning to Maggie. “Don’t it?”

  “I don’t know that to be true,” Maggie mumbled.

  “Well, I do. You were traipsing around there last weekend and now look’s what happened.”

  “Who do you think broke your window?” Robert asked in a whisper, which Maggie immediately recognized as his voice of concern.