2 Heroes & Hooligans in Goose Pimple Junction (37 page)

Butterbean came into the kitchen looking glum. She flopped into a chair without saying a word.

“Wash your hands, pumpkin.”

Butterbean went to the sink, while Martha Maye added potato chips to the three plates, set them on the table, and sat down.

“Say, Carrie,” T. Harry pretended he just had a thought, “how about we go hiking today? I’ll make a list of things we have to find in the woods, and we’ll have ourselves a scavenger hunt. What do you say?”

Martha Maye’s mouth dropped open, but she stayed quiet when Butterbean perked up. “Yeah! That sounds like fun.”

“All right. That’s what we’ll do. And Marty, why don’t you pack us up some cold chicken and tater salad, and some of them oatmeal cookies, and we’ll have us a picnic dinner.”

“Yeah, Mama! That sounds real nice.” Butterbean clapped her hands together in delight. It was the liveliest Martha Maye had seen her daughter act in a week, and she couldn’t say no.

“You could sell country to cornbread,” Martha Maye told T. Harry.

“Thank you kindly, Marty.” He beamed at them both.

Johnny walked into A Blue Million Books later that afternoon in a foul mood, but he had to laugh when he saw the back of Pickle’s T-shirt. It read,
LEGALIZE POT PIE.
Then he remembered seeing Pickle in the Mag Bar’s parking lot.

“Hey, Pickle.”

“Hidee, Chief.” Pickle was three steps up on a ladder and turned his head to speak over his shoulder but kept at his job of dusting.

“Glad I ran into you. There’s something I wanted to ask you about.”

“Yessir?” Pickle stepped down and turned toward him. Johnny could now see a picture of a steaming hot pot pie on the front of the boy’s shirt.

“Did I see you over at the Mag Bar the other night?”

Pickle’s brow wrinkled. “Uh, could be.”

“Either you were or you weren’t, son.” He stepped closer to him. “The thing is, I can think of no good reason for you to be there, and I can think of lots of bad reasons.” Johnny put his hand on Pickle’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “As a friend, I’m telling you, if you’re buying
pot pie
, you need to know it ain’t
legal
yet, and you’d best stop right quick. I won’t ask you to incriminate yourself, but if I see you over there again, I
will
stop you and search your car and your person. Is that clear?”

Pickle looked like a bobblehead doll as he nodded. “But—”

Johnny squeezed his shoulder in a fatherly gesture. “No buts. Teenage years can be hard; just don’t go doing anything stupid. You understand my meaning?”

Pickle nodded again, and Johnny said, “Is Louetta around?”

“Yessir, she’s in the back, but—”

“Back to work, Pickle.” Johnny walked toward the back of the store and called out for Lou from the counter. She came out of her office patting her hair in place.

“I thought that was your voice I heard. Well? Did you talk to her?”

“I tried, Lou. I couldn’t get past the sentry.” Louetta looked puzzled, and he added, “T. Harry. He said she was indisposed and shut the door in my face.”

“Oh, that man. I’d like to snatch his arm out and beat him with the bloody stump.”

“Louetta Stafford!”

“I’m telling you, Johnny, I got a bad feeling about him. So whatchew gonna do now, just let him chase you away?”

“I went back by the house a few minutes ago, but no one was home. I stopped in at Honey’s, and she said she didn’t know where they were.”

“That can’t be.” She picked up the phone and punched in some numbers. She ended the call and punched in seven new numbers. “I don’t know why she got a cell phone. She hardly ever keeps it on.”

Drumming her fingers while she waited for an answer, Johnny watched as her expression changed from irritated to worried. He heard her say, “Martha Maye, this is Mama. You give me a call the minute you get home, you hear? I’m worried about y’all. Call me, now.”

When she hung up the phone, he said, “Where could they have gone?”

“I surely don’t know, but do you know when the last time I couldn’t find my daughter was?” She walked to the window, and he followed her.

“No, ma’am, I reckon I don’t.” He patted her back consolingly as they looked out the window.

“It was the day she and Tess were kidnapped. Does that tell you anything?”

“Yes, ma’am. It tells me you usually can find her, but today you can’t. It’s not time to panic yet, you hear? Don’t go getting your socks on over your boots.”

She nodded and gave him a hug.

“What are we going to do?” She pulled back from the window, rubbing her forehead.

“You’re going to stay here and mind the shop, and I’m going to go out and look for them. I’ll call you the minute I find them.”

“Bless your pea-pickin’ heart. You’re good people, Johnny.”

“Thank you, Lou. Maybe you could put in a good word with your daughter?”

You can’t tell much about a chicken pie until you get through the crust.

~Southern Proverb

J
ohnny cruised through town, stopping periodically to ask someone if they’d seen Martha Maye or T. Harry’s green truck. After thirty minutes with no success, he headed south on a road leading to farmland. He racked his brain thinking where they might have gone, but he came up blank. He told himself to calm down. It was pretty obvious T. Harry had a crush on Martha Maye, but he couldn’t see the man hurting her or Butterbean.

After twenty miles, he did a U-turn and headed back toward Goose Pimple Junction. He propped his elbow on the door and rested his head on his hand. Estherlene’s earlier comment about possibly seeing a green pickup truck had been bothering him all day. T. Harry had a green pickup truck. But Martha Maye said he hadn’t come to town until two days after the murder. He couldn’t remember where she said T. Harry lived.
Could he have possibly snuck into town, killed his brother, and snuck back out? But why would he kill his brother?

He didn’t like the thoughts he was having, or the possibility that Martha Maye was very likely with someone nobody in town knew very well, and he
really
didn’t like the fact that no one knew where she and Butterbean were.
Why hadn’t she called someone? And why hadn’t she returned my calls?

He rode back through town and then took a road that led north. He stopped at a few houses to ask if they’d noticed a green pickup truck drive by, but as one person put it, “We’re in the country. There’s a green pickup truck for every four people in town.” He got tired of explaining he was on a leave of absence and saying no, they hadn’t caught the murderer.

Feeling defeated, he rode back into town at dusk. He decided to go by Martha Maye’s house one more time, and then he would go to the station and call the staties for help. Chief or no chief, he could call in a few favors.

He turned onto Marigold Lane and relief washed over him. The green truck sat in the driveway, and lights were on in Martha Maye’s house. He parked his car behind the truck and jumped out, stalking to the door and pounding on it. T. Harry opened it.

“T. Harry,” Johnny said flatly. He was breathing hard and hoping his eyes conveyed as much anger as he felt.

“John,” T. Harry said for the second time today. Johnny heard the disdain in the man’s voice.

Johnny took a deep breath. “T. Harry. I’d like to speak to Martha Maye.” He held up a hand signaling T. Harry not to say another word. “I mean to see her tonight. If she’s
indisposed
again, I’ll wait.” He opened the screen door wider. “I mean to see her tonight, even if it harelips the governor. Now I’ll wait right here while you go get her.” Johnny held onto the screen door and glared at T. Harry.

“Harelips the governor? Whatchew talking about?” T. Harry tried to step outside and close the front door behind him. Johnny put his hand on his chest, stopping him.

“It’s an expression. Now. Go. Get. Her.” Johnny matched his tone with the look in his eye. Tired of playing nice, he was not leaving without making sure Martha Maye and Butterbean were all right.

“Hey now, don’t have a duck fit. I think Martha Maye’s in the sh—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence because Martha Maye appeared behind him. “Johnny! It’s so good to see you!” She pushed past T. Harry and took one look at Johnny’s face. “Is everything all right? Is Mama . . . Aunt Imy—”

“Everything and everybody’s fine, Martha Maye,” Johnny assured her. “We were just worried about you because nobody knew where you were all day.”

“Oh!” she clamped her hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry. You’re right, I shoulda called Mama and them and said we were going on a hike and a picnic. T. Harry rushed me so much, I guess I just forgot. I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to worry y’all. Why didn’t y’all call my cell?” She pulled it out of her pocket. “Oh. It’s been turned off. Hmmm. Wonder how that happened.”

Johnny was struck by how lovely she looked. It had been a while since they’d spent any time together. He’d missed her and couldn’t believe how grateful he was that she was all right. Glancing past her, he saw T. Harry leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, watching them and listening in. He looked back at Martha Maye.

“Martha Maye, do you suppose we could go for a short walk? Just you and me?” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder.

Her smile washed all his worry away. Suddenly everything was right with the world.

“Sure, I’d like that.” She turned to her brother-in-law. “T. Harry, you mind staying here with Butterbean while we go out for a walk?”

T. Harry looked at his watch. “I don’t know, it’s getting kinda late, Marty—”

“Hey, if you need to leave, go ahead. Martha Maye and I can sit here and talk,” Johnny offered. He could see T. Harry’s thoughts all over his face. T. Harry was kicking himself for falling into that trap.

He recovered quickly, though. “No, no, y’all gwon. I’ll stay with Carrie until you get back.” T. Harry made a shooing motion with his hands. “Just don’t be long.”

Martha Maye shot him a smile, and Johnny felt himself begrudging him.
She shouldn’t grace that no-good lying ferret face with one of her smiles.

As Johnny closed the door behind them, Martha Maye said, “How’ve you been, Johnny? It’s been a while since we talked. I was getting worried about you.”

“Really? I called you a couple of times and even left messages. And I left one with T. Harry today. Didn’t he tell you?”

She looked confused. “You did? When?”

They walked past Estherlene’s house and waved at her in the front window. Estherlene made a motion with her hand to her ear miming,
“Call me.”

“I wonder why she wants me to call her,” Martha Maye turned her head to look at the woman as they kept walking.

Johnny waved, and said, “She might’ve meant me. She wants to help on the investigation.”

“Oh.” She glanced up at him. “Anyway, when did you call, Johnny?”

“Uh, I guess the first time was the day after the funeral.”

“And you left a message with T. Harry? How odd. He never gave it to me.”

“Must’ve slipped his mind,” Johnny said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“Hmm, I guess so. His brother was just killed, after all. I guess he’s had a lot on his mind.”