2 Heroes & Hooligans in Goose Pimple Junction (11 page)

“Have we learned a lesson today, Bernadette?”

“Yessir,” she said timidly, pulling at the tissue still in her hands.

“Next time someone you don’t know comes in asking questions, you direct them to an officer or to me.”

“Yessir.”

“What else? You said there were two things.”

“Skeeter was just over to the diner. He says Slick told him a box of ‘nanas is gone. Says he ain’t never had a box of food stolen in all his born days.” She stood up, shaking her head. “Pumpkins and ‘nanas. This town is going to Hell in a hand basket.” She left the office muttering, “Hell in a hand basket, Hell in a hand basket …”

“What in the Sam Hill is going on? Who’s asking about Lenny, and what kind of bandit steals pumpkins and ‘nanas?”

“A hungry one?” Hank shrugged his right shoulder.

Johnny dropped his chin and looked under raised eyebrows at Hank. “What’re you doing standing around, Officer? Get out there and catch us a thief, and I want every officer on duty looking for these two mystery men.”

The box was sitting on Martha Maye’s back step. She nearly stepped on it when she went out to take a bag of trash to the garbage can. This one was a white box with a huge red bow and had a tag on it that simply said,
MARTHA MAYE
.

It was late on a Saturday night, and Butterbean had been in bed for hours. A shiver passed through Martha Maye when she picked up the box, and it wasn’t due to the cool October night air.

She sat at her kitchen table and opened it, curious what the secret admirer had left for her. Inside layers of lilac tissue paper, she found a teeny tiny lacy red negligee. When she picked it up, she noticed a note in the bottom of the box. Still holding the red lingerie in her left hand, she opened the note.

I dream of you in this,
was all it said
.

Many good cotton stalks get chopped up by associating with weeds
.

~Southern Proverb

J
umping up from the chair, Martha Maye dropped the nightgown and the note as if they were two snakes.

Is this Lenny? No, it couldn’t be. But if it’s not Lenny, then who? Johnny? Absolutely not. Especially not this one. Johnny wouldn’t do that. Should I call him? And say what? “I found a nightgown on my porch.” That would sound real classy.

Feeling unsettled and worried, she tiptoed upstairs to check on Butterbean, knowing she was safe in bed, but needing the reassurance. She pulled the covers over her daughter’s shoulder and looked down at her innocent sleeping face.
How could Lenny have fathered such an angel?

She walked quietly out of the room, back downstairs, and called Honey, needing to talk to somebody.

Martha Maye explained to her friend about the newest present. Honey was well aware of the others.

“He appears to be ratcheting up the stakes, doesn’t he?” Honey said after listening to her friend.

“What do you mean?”

“Before, it was kind of harmless stuff, right? A heart on the bulletin board, some flowers, a bottle of perfume. Now he gets into a personal area with intimate clothing. I think this person is crazier ‘n a Bessie bug. Why don’t you bring Butterbean over, and y’all stay the night over here?”

“No, I can’t do that. I just wish I knew who was behind all this. It’s starting to concern, not to mention irritate, me.”

“At least let me come over and sit and talk for a bit. Help you calm down. Maddy Mack’s asleep, but we can sit on the porch if you want. That way we’ll see her if she should come downstairs.”

“Okay, that’d be nice. Thanks, Honey.” While she waited for Honey, Martha Maye went around her small house closing all the drapes and checking the locks on windows and doors. She hugged her arms to herself, determined not to cry.

Jack and Tess sat on the couch in Tess’s den. She was snuggled into him, with her head resting on his shoulder, his arm around her. A fire burned in the fireplace, and Jack’s dog Ezmeralda sat across their laps—her rear end on Tess’s lap and her head propped on Jack’s leg.

“Jack, is something wrong? You’ve been kind of quiet tonight.” Ezzie raised her head to see if there was any mention of food.

“Well . . .” He patted Ezzie’s head, and she relaxed, propping her snout on her front paws, content to have Jack stroke her head and down her back. “Yeah, there is something on my mind,” he said. “I know something about someone, but I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure you could be a little bit more vague.” Tess patted Ezzie’s rump.

“It’s just that I’ve never been one to pry into someone else’s business, but in this case, I know something maybe a friend should know.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It might also hurt the friend. And she might shoot the messenger.”

Tess sat up straight and looked at him. “She. Do you mean me, Jack?”

“No, no, no. I’m sorry.” He squeezed her with one arm. “No. The
she
is Martha Maye.”

“What is it?” She maneuvered so that she faced him, displacing Ezzie’s rump.

“You and she have gotten to be pretty close since the kidnapping.”

“Well, going through something like that together does tend to forge a bond.”

“Do you know if she’s back together with Lenny?”

“I know she has her doubts. Evidently he’s been putting on the full-court press. Why?”

“I saw him last night.” He brushed her hair off her neck.

“You saw him? Where? With who?”

“Shouldn’t that be with whom?”

Tess slapped the couch next to Ezzie, which made her jump. “Sorry, Ez. Jackson, quit stalling and tell me what you saw!”

“Okay, okay, don’t get violent on me, woman!” He rubbed Ezzie’s ears. “I was at the Mag Bar last night with Hank, and we saw Lenny there.”

“Go on or I’ll have to hurt you.”

“You couldn’t hurt a fly.”

She raised one eyebrow at him.

“How
do
you do that?”

“Jackson!” Her tone was threatening.

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you. He wasn’t alone, Tess.”

“What do you mean he wasn’t alone? You mean he had a date?”

“He didn’t when he went in, but he sure did when he went out.”

“He picked up a woman at the Mag Bar?” Tess screeched, standing up and displacing Ezzie altogether.

“I’m not sure if he was the picker. He might have been the pickee. But either way, yes, he left with a woman. And I don’t think they left to go play cards.”

“Just what do you think they left to do?” Tess said, half-serious.

“The way he was hanging all over her, I’d say there was a fair amount of hanky-panky going on.”

Tess looked at him for a moment, trying not to smile. “Oh. You mean they were going dancing, only . . . naked?” Tess said, hands on her hips.

“Yep. In amorous congress.” Jack got up and moved toward Tess, leaving Ezzie on the couch, watching them.

Tess backed up.

“Doing the four-legged frolic?” she said, smiling and moving so the couch was between her and Jack. She knew that look in his eye.

“Dippity doo da,” Jack said, accentuating “da” and moving to his left. Tess moved to her left.

“Playing doctor?” Tess said, screeching and reversing direction when Jack faked left and went right, and almost faked Tess out.

“Parking the Plymouth in the garage of love,” Jack crooned, continuing around the couch.

“Doing the bedroom rodeo.”

Ezzie barked twice and jumped to the floor, joining Jack in the chase.

“Having a party for two,” Jack said.

“Shaking the sheets.” She held up her hands. “Okay, stop!”

“Lady, do you know how beautiful you are?” Tess let him catch her, and they fell onto the couch, with Ezzie nudging their arms with her cold, wet nose.

“Jack, I feel guilty.”

“Yeah, I know. We’re not married—”

“Oh, you.” She playfully slapped his back. “I mean I feel guilty that we’re making light of the situation, and this is Martha Maye’s life we’re laughing about.”

“We’re not making fun of Martha Maye’s life; we’re having fun with each other. There’s a difference,” Jack said, kissing her neck.

“Why are men such pigs?” Tess asked.

“Hey!” Jack raised his head, acting offended.

“Except for you. I lucked out with you, my handsome man.” She pulled him back toward her.

“We both lucked out,” Jack said, silencing Tess with another kiss.

When they stopped for air, Tess asked, “We have to tell Martha Maye, don’t we?”

“Yeah, babe. I think we do. And you know the news will go over like a pregnant pole vaulter.”

“Goose Pimple Junction Police, how may I help you?” Christine “Teenie” White, the nighttime police dispatcher, said into the phone on the first call of her shift, late Monday afternoon.

“Chief Butterfield, please,” Martha Maye said urgently.

“Who may I say is calling?” Teenie held the phone to her pudgy face. At five foot two and one hundred-eighty pounds, she was anything but teenie. The older woman’s permed and set hair was thoroughly sprayed into place and hardly looked the slightest bit different from day to day.

“Dolly Parton,” Martha Maye said impatiently. “Teenie, you know who this is.”

“I’m just following proper police procedure, Dolly. You don’t have to get snippy.”

“Teenie, I’m a little stressed at the moment. Can I please speak to him? Like NOW?”