Read Online Murder at Catfish Corner: A Maggie Morgan Mystery by Michelle Goff - Free Book Online Page A

about
Hazel’s renter like a dog, but played with her little boy. Not that I think she
should have been rude to the little boy. It’s just, I don’t know, hard to
define.”
    Sylvie said, “If
I thought as little as they do for that girl, I wouldn’t let her inside my mommy’s
house, let alone live in it. But that was Hazel’s doing. I reckon Stellie told
you about that.”
    “She did.”
Maggie continued trying to find the right words to explain Stella’s actions and
behavior. “She also has this way of manipulating people to get them to do what
she wants. She did that with Earl David, the guy who owns the pay lake, and she
tried it on Earnest.”
    “I know what
you’re talking about. She tried that with me, too. She had some big shindig to
go to and waited until two weeks before the thing to ask me to make her a
dress. And it prom season. I told her I had too many alterations to do. She
started this whole song and dance about how good I was and I said, ‘Stellie, me
being good ain’t going to get these dresses let out and hemmed for those
girls.’ She didn’t try that tack with me again.” Sylvie finished cutting the
yellow scraps and rifled through her basket until she produced solid lilac
material. “She’s not one hundred percent fake, but she can turn it on and off. At
least you knew what you was getting with Hazel.”
    “Exactly,”
Maggie said excitedly. “Well, I guess. I didn’t know Hazel, but I see what you
mean about Stella.”
    “But Stellie
does have a good personality, I’ll give her that, and she ain’t ashamed of
where she come from. But I think she talks about how poor she was so she can
tell you how good she has it now. And she and Hazel put their mommy on a
pedestal. Now, I didn’t know the woman, so maybe she was as good and perfect as
they make her out to be, but they carry on about her too much for my taste. Other
than that, I don’t really have a problem with Stellie. I take that back. The
way she calls that weirdo Dennis, ‘Brother,’ gets on my nerves.” Sylvie pursed
her lips. “It’s just as bad as that ole ‘Bubby’ and ‘Sissy’ routine. Say their
names and get on with it.”
    Smiling, Maggie
said, “So, Sylvie, you knew Hazel. What do you make of the way she died?”
    “It does seem strange. I don’t go traipsing over to the neighbor’s in the
middle of the night. But we don’t know what goes on in other people’s minds. Who
knows why they do what they do?”
    When Maggie
pulled into her driveway, she spotted someone in the garden with her dad. As
soon as she got out of her car, Robert waved and yelled at her, “Come over
here. You have a visitor.”
    Maggie didn’t
place the bibbed-overall-wearing man standing beside her dad until he walked
out of the garden with Robert. “Hey, Boone,” she said when she recognized him.
“You said you might take a notion and come over here one day to see Daddy. I
guess that day’s today.
    “It is, it is,”
Boone said. “And I came to see you, too. I need to tell you that I remembered
something about the night Hazel Baker died.”

Chapter Nine
    By the time
Maggie, Robert, and Boone reached the porch, Lena had come outside to join
them.
    “Boone, you ought
to stay and eat with us,” Robert said. “Maggie went to the chicken house and
got our supper.”
    “I’ve been
putting up kraut all day and when I can, I don’t cook,” Lena explained. “I try
not to make a habit of eating out, but sometimes it’s easier.”
    “Especially when
she’s buying,” Robert said, grinning at his daughter.
    “I don’t know,”
Boone objected. “I’m already walking off with a half a bushel of tomatoes. I
can’t take your supper.”
    “There’s enough
chicken in this bucket to feed all four of us,” Maggie said. “We have sides,
too. KFC’s mashed potatoes are really good, especially if you douse them in
gravy.”
    “Well, in that case,” Boone said.
    Maggie removed
the skin from a fried chicken breast, praying