2 Heroes & Hooligans in Goose Pimple Junction (38 page)

“How long’s he staying in town? Doesn’t he have a job to get back to?”

“He hasn’t actually said how long he’ll be here. He’s a self-employed carpenter, so he can take off pretty much whenever he wants. I guess he could find work here, too, if he was so inclined. I keep assuring him we’re fine, and to tell you the truth, I wish he’d gwon back home, but I don’t have the heart to tell him so. He’s been so good to us.”

“I could tell him,” Johnny said through thin lips.

“No.” Martha Maye shook her head. “I just couldn’t hurt his feelings.”

“Are you sure you trust him, Mart?” Johnny glanced sideways at her.

“He’s family, Johnny. Of course I trust him. Why on earth wouldn’t I?”

“Tell me something.” He took her hand and kept walking, trying to act like it was a perfectly natural act, and praying she wouldn’t pull it away. “Did he tell you I came by the house this morning?”

She stopped walking and looked up at him. “You were by this morning?”

“Yep. He didn’t tell you, did he?”

“Well . . . no. I thought I heard someone at the door, but he said it was the Jehovah’s Witnesses.” Looking up at the almost-black sky dotted with stars, she said, “I can’t believe he lied to me.”

She sounded so hurt, Johnny just wanted to wrap his arms around her, which is exactly what he did. He was relieved when she didn’t pull away. Actually, she held on tight.

“Oh, Johnny, it’s been a rough couple of months, what with one thing after another, but I never dreamed my brother-in-law would lie to me. Why would he do that?”

“He’s not worth a hat full of rotten eggs, Martha Maye.” He smelled her sweet perfume and felt her hair tickle his chin. “I think he’s got a thing for you,” Johnny said softly, still holding her. When she was silent, he went on. “I see how he looks at you, and he hasn’t been civil to me since the minute I met him. The fact that he’s not giving you my messages and he’s been trying to keep us apart just clinches it for me.”

She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “Johnny, I’m scared. After what happened with Henry Clay and now T. Harry, my goodness, what a horrible judge of character I am!”

They began walking again, holding hands and leaning in close to each other, Martha Maye seeking reassurance and Johnny offering it.

“You’re just a good person who doesn’t see the evil in people. You want to believe what you see is what you get, because that’s the way you are, honest and true, but some folks aren’t like that. Most of the time, you can’t tell much about a chicken pie until you get through the crust.”

Softly, she said, “Are
you
who you say you are, Johnny?” Her question cut through him as if she’d hacked at him with an axe. He stopped walking again, pulling on her hand so she faced him. With his hand under her chin, he tipped her head so she’d look at him. “Martha Maye, I swear to you I am what you see. I don’t have a dark side, I don’t have any secrets, and I certainly don’t have a mean streak. I will not lie to you, and I promise you never have to be afraid of me.”

She nodded, and they walked on in silence. He looked up at the sky and saw the prettiest sliver of a moon and a bright star next to it. He pointed to it. “Look, that’s Jupiter.”

“Oh, it’s beautiful. I’ll have to tell Butterbean. She’ll love it.” Her head snapped to Johnny, a terrified look on her face. “You don’t suppose he’d do anything to Butterbean, do you? I left my baby with that liar!”

“Come on, we’ll go back. It’ll make you feel better. But no, I don’t think Butterbean’s in danger. You said yourself he’s been good to y’all, and Butterbean is his niece. I don’t see him hurting her.”

They were quiet again as they passed several houses, and then she said, “What am I going to do, Johnny?”

“About T. Harry?” Johnny grabbed her hand again. He was finding it hard not to touch her.

“Yeah. I’m not saying he’s dangerous or anything, but what you told me tonight gives me the creeps. I don’t think I want to be alone in the house with him anymore.”

Johnny nodded and said, “Here’s what we’ll do: I’ll come in with you while you tell him you need to go stay at your mama’s house. You could tell him it’s on account of your aunt. Make something up. Just go to Lou’s. If you’re not at home, he can’t hang around, and Louetta certainly won’t put up with his foolishness.”

“Do I really have to go to Mama’s? You think that’s necessary?”

“Yes, I do. Tell him you need to pack, and then show him to the door. I’ll leave, too, but I’ll stick around outside your house until he’s gone tonight. Then you pack a few days’ things for both of y’all and go to your mama’s house.”

“What if he comes over to Mama’s?”

“Ha! Like I said, Lou won’t put up with his shenanigans. Once he sees he can’t follow y’all around like a lost puppy, maybe he’ll get bored and go home.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then he and I will have a come-to-Jesus talk. You may not want to hurt the man’s feelings, but if he keeps carrying on, I
will
be talking to him.”

She nodded.

Johnny said, “You cannot get the water to clear up until you get the pigs out of the creek.” She didn’t laugh, but she smiled. That was enough for Johnny.

They got back to Martha Maye’s house and stood on the front porch. Martha Maye took her hand from his and reached for the door. Seeming unsure of what to do next, she turned back to Johnny, then reached for the doorknob again.

“Uh,” Johnny said at the same time she said, “Well . . .”

They both cracked up laughing, and Johnny caught her hand in his. Their laughter died down, and he brought her hand to his face and kissed her knuckles.

“Thanks for the walk, Johnny, and the advice.”

“I am so relieved you’re okay,” Johnny said, holding her hand to his chest. “How about I come in with you while you get rid of T. Harry. Then I’ll sit out in my car over there until I see him leave.” He thought a minute and then said, “No, I’m gonna sit out there until you and Butterbean get in your car to go to your mama’s,then I’m gonna follow you. Just so you know and don’t think I’m stalking you or anything.”

“Well, if I had to have a stalker—” Johnny’s kiss cut off Martha Maye’s sentence.

He pulled back a little and said, “I’ve thought of nothing but you, Martha Maye. I can’t get you out of my mind.”

“Do you need to?” she asked, kissing his cheek and then the spot right under his ear.

He closed his eyes and relished her touch. “Sooner or later, I’m gonna have to get back to work—”

The front porch light began flashing on and off.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Martha Maye said. “I’m not a teenager, and T. Harry isn’t my daddy!”

“Mart, he’s showing such possessiveness, I don’t want you wasting any time getting rid of him.”

She nodded. “All right, but you don’t have to wait in your car. You wait inside the house, okay?”

He kissed her again. “Ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” She’d opened the screen door and was just about to open the main door when Johnny said, “And just in case he asks, I’m taking you and Butterbean out trick-or-treating on Monday night.”

She smiled and said, “Thank you, Johnny. That’ll be real nice.”

The cotton patch doesn’t care which way you vote.

~Southern Proverb

“H
appy Halloween, lady policeman. Hireyew doing today?” Junebug greeted Velveeta as she sat down at the diner counter on Monday morning.

From the kitchen, Slick yelled, “That’s an oxymoron, Junie. She can’t be a lady
and
a police
man
.”

“Oh, shush. You’re an ox and a moron. Just concentrate on slinging hash and let me talk to the customers.”

Velveeta stared at Junebug wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

“Oh, don’t look at me that way. Slick and I banter about all the time. He knows he’s the mint to my julep. Just like I’m the macaroni to his cheese.” She called over her shoulder, “Right darlin’?”

“You’re the cream to my coffee,” Slick hollered through the open window.

Junebug turned to Velveeta. “See? It’s just our way.” She slung a dishtowel over her shoulder. “Now, what can I getcha, sweet thing?”

“Just coffee, please.”

“How about a donut to go along with the joe?” Junebug suggested. She plucked a chocolate iced donut with orange and black sprinkles out of a glass cake dome. “It’s on the house.”

“Well, if you insist,” she said, as Junebug put it in front of her.

Junebug placed a cup and saucer in front of Velveeta, went for the coffee pot, and returned to fill the cup. “Did you catch that nefarious criminal yet?”

Slick called out, “Junebug, do you know any criminals who
aren’t
nefarious?”

“Oh, shush, you,” Junebug said over her shoulder. “Or I’ll come back there and fix you a knuckle sandwich.”

Velveeta shook her head, chuckling. “No arrests yet.”

“Y’ont cream, or do you like it unadulterated?” Junebug asked.

“Just sugar, thanks.” Velveeta looked around the diner, then back at Junebug.

“Listen, I’m trying to track down the chief’s whereabouts on the night of the murder. He said he answered a call about a theft here?”

“Yeah, honey. He sure did. He was here for about, oh, I don’t know. Hey Slick, how long you think the chief was here the night of the Oktoberfest after those hooligans nearly robbed us blind?”

Slick came out of the kitchen wiping his hands on a towel tucked into his pants. “Oh, I’d say about thirty minutes.”

“Did he say where he was going after that?” Velveeta studied Slick and then Junebug.

“Naw, can’t say that he did.” Slick rested a hip against the counter in front of Velveeta.

“You can’t think the chief had anything to do with the murder.” Junebug’s hands fisted on her hips.

“I don’t, but I do need to establish his alibi so it won’t look like I didn’t investigate this fully. I have to be able to cross him off the suspect list legitimately.”

“Oh. Well, we can vouch for about thirty minutes that night, right around eight, eight thirty.”

“Okay.” Velveeta took a sip of coffee and watched Slick return to the kitchen, his gray ponytail bobbing as he walked. “Where are Clive and Earl today?”

“It’s free samples day over at Piggly Wiggly. They go shopping every Monday so they can eat for free.”

Velveeta broke the donut in half, dunked it in her coffee, and slurped the coffee off the end before she bit off a piece. “I was wondering, Junebug. Did Lenny ever come in here with anybody other than his wife and child?”

“Not so’s I noticed. I’m not here all the time, but purt near.”

“I just don’t know where to go on this. Nobody saw anything, the evidence is missing, and my only suspects are ones other people tell me are the salt of the earth and couldn’t be murderers. I found nothing in his hotel room.” She put her head in her hands. “I just don’t know how to proceed.”

“What does your gut tell you to do?” Junebug asked, wiping off the counter.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I have enough for it to tell me anything yet.”

Junebug ducked her chin and looked at the officer under raised eyebrows.

Velveeta nodded. “Okay,” she lowered her voice to almost a whisper, “I guess I like Martha Maye for it. She hated the man, and she can’t account for her whereabouts for about thirty minutes that night. A mama bear will do anything to protect her baby bear. She has means and motive, and the murder weapon was her kitchen knife. How can I ignore that?”

Junebug crossed her arms and looked thoughtfully at Velveeta. She propped an elbow on the counter and sat her chin in her hand as she thought about the question. Finally, she propped her elbows on the counter and leaned toward Velveeta.

“There’s something to be said for hunches. They ain’t scientific, but a lot of times they pan out.” She leaned in even more and lowered her voice before continuing. Her face and tone suggested she was deadly serious.

“But I’m telling you, sugar, I’ve known Martha Maye since she wasn’t no bigger ‘n a beef roast. She doesn’t hate anybody, and if she’s capable of murder, I’ll eat Slick’s liver ‘n onions. And honey, let’s just say there ain’t no flipping way on either account. I’d sooner believe Elvis was a woman than believe Martha Maye is a murderer.” She shook her head and grimaced. “Mmm, it pains me to say that, ‘cause I do love my Elvis, and I do hate Slick’s liver ‘n onions—”