A Side Order of Deception Read online

  I went into the dining room just in time to hear a round of joyful laughter coming from the big booth in the corner. The regulars had abandoned their usual posts at the counter to gather around Madame DuChayne in the booth, where she was the center of attention.

  “Do me! Do me!” Jake was saying enthusiastically, his hand raised in the air.

  “Come here, Mercy!” Babs said, waving me over there. “Maggie is telling our fortunes. She just did Red. She held his hand and knew everything about him – she even knew that he was never married and had a horse named Louise! And she knew that his high school nickname was Twinkle Toes!”

  I walked over with the bone still in my hand. “Wow,” I said dryly, not really trying to hide my skepticism.

  “Do me!” Jake said again.

  But Babs didn’t want this reasonably attractive woman, who was probably ten years younger than her, holding hands with the man she wanted for herself. “Junior, you’re closer...give Maggie your hand! You know...you two make a cute couple,” she said.

  Ah...there it is. Babs is starting her matchmaking scheme again, just as she did for me when I first got back in town. This time Junior seems to be her target, and her goal is to keep Jake away from Maggie.

  “You should go out on a date with her,” she continued, and then she turned to Maggie. “Junior is the most eligible bachelor in Paint Creek, you know, Maggie.”

  “I am?” Junior asked.

  “Of course, you are, Junior. You’ve been looking for the right girl. Maybe it’s Maggie!”

  “I’ve been looking for any girl.”

  Maggie winked at the much younger Junior as she took his hand. “Come over later and we’ll talk about some ways we can have fun, Junior.”

  Ummmm...

  Then she put her other hand on top of his and closed her eyes. Everyone got quiet, as she seemed to go into a trance. She took in a big breath and slowly released it.

  “You are an only child...you lost your mother in a horrible farm accident when you were very young...I see a tractor pulling a combine, and...oh, my!...and you were raised by your father.” She took another cleansing breath. “You see things that others do not see, Junior, and you know things they do not know. The visitors from the planet called Nibiru will return for you.”

  She opened her eyes and returned from her trance, which I’m sure, was just a show for her fans. “That’s all you get for free! If you want more, come and see me across the street from 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. or schedule a special consultation anytime.”

  Junior’s eyes were wide. “Everything you said was right, Madame DuChayne. How did you know about the spacemen? I never told anyone I was on a spaceship.”

  “I just feel the vibrations,” she said. “They always speak the truth.”

  Uh-huh...right. “Try this one,” I said, handing her the bone. This ought to be good.

  “What do you have here, Mercy?” she asked.

  “Just a bone they dug up in the construction project.”

  “Ah! Interesting. Human, I think. Let’s see if there are any vibrations left from his departed soul.”

  She took the bone in her hand, and her eyes immediately grew very wide. “Oh, my!” she declared. “This is a tortured soul – a man...a soldier, I’d say...dressed gray.”

  Well, you can say anything you want, because we’ll never know the difference.

  She continued. “He is dead...”

  Wow, impressive.

  “...but he is not gone. He was killed, probably in battle...and his spirit is still troubled...for more than a century now...so much anger...searching for something...for his head, maybe...and for his...property? He seems to have lost something, and he can’t rest until he gets it back.” She inhaled deeply again. “The vision is fading now.”

  “Whoa,” Jake said. “So, we have an angry, headless ghost right outside the back door? Holy moly!”

  Smoke came out of the swinging kitchen doors with Dimitri.

  “Have a seat at the counter, Dimi. I’ll bring you out a plate, and you can tell me how it tastes. But I’ll go and rinse this thing off first, so we can see what it is.”

  Smoke had something in his hand that looked like an old silver dollar caked with black dirt. He brought it into the kitchen and came out a minute later with a round shiny object.

  The attention turned to the counter now, and the guys returned to their stools.

  “What have you got there, Smoke?” Red asked.

  “Well, it’s something Dimitri’s crew dug up from the corner lot, where they found the bones. Looks like some kind of medal or something.”

  “Do you mind if I take a look, Smoke? Dimitri?” I asked. I took the medal, which was actually quite a bit larger than a silver dollar. It had a ribbon attached with the stars and bars of the confederate flag. The medal said Putnam Confederate Cavalry around the top and bottom, and in the middle, over an image of a heart, it said for Honor and Valor. On the back was engraved: Breckenridge, Tenn, 1862.

  A chill ran through my body as I read the inscriptions aloud to the curious gang.

  “A soldier dressed in gray,” Jake said with wide eyes. “A Confederate soldier.”

  “Yeah,” Red added, “killed more than a century ago.

  “Maybe that medal was what he was looking for,” Junior said.

  The front door opened, and three people filed into the diner as if they were on a mission. I didn’t know the first woman, but I’d say she was around 28 with a spinster-librarian look about her. She wore a gray skirt-suit with an ill-fitting Wal-Mart floral blouse under the matching jacket. Junior’s unblinking eyes fixed on her. The second woman was the medical examiner, Sylvia Chambers. Sheriff Brody Hayes came in last. The woman in the gray suit looked at Brody, and he nodded towards me.

  “Miss Howard?” she asked.

  “Yes...why don’t you all sit down,” I said, leading them toward the first booth by the window.

  “First, Miss Howard...”

  “Mercy.”

  “Mercy...may I see the bones you found? I’m Liberty Cheswick, head of the Historical Society, and I advise the county on the significance of historical sites and artifacts.”

  I stepped over to the corner booth, and Maggie handed me the femur. “I just have this one. The other bones are at the construction site in back.”

  Liberty put on her glasses and examined the bone carefully, and Sylvia looked on as well. They nodded at each other.

  “It is a human thigh bone, of course,” Sylvia said. “We’ll need to do some tests to determine how old it is. Maybe some of the bones will give us a clue as to the cause of death. It’s unusual for a body to be buried in a residential yard, so we could have a cold case on our hands.”

  “Or maybe some kind of archeological find,” Liberty added. “Sheriff, you need to find the foreman and arrange for us see the other bones and look around the site so we can make an informed assessment.”

  “The foreman is right here,” I said, picking the medal up off the counter. “This is Dimitri. He found this medal buried there too.”

  “Oh!” Liberty exclaimed when she saw the Civil War medal and the year inscribed on the back. “This has historical significance for sure. Sheriff Hayes, you need to halt their work on the lot right away, until we can do our own excavation of the site. I’ll get a Cease and Desist from Judge Pennyworth within the hour, but you have the authority to halt the work for six hours without a court order.”

  “What!” Dimitri said, getting up from his stool. “You can’t shut me down! I’ll lose a fortune. No way!”

  Sylvia put her hand on his shoulder to calm him down. “We’ll work as fast as we can to get you going again, Dimitri, and we probably will not need to shut down the entire site – just the corner lot where the bones were found. I saw your backhoe out there when we drove up too, and we may rent that from you for a few hours to help in our investigation too. It will be okay.”

  Dimitri seemed to settle down immediately, as he looked at Sylvia
with obvious interest. Then he spoke calmly. “You work for the county?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I have an office in the Charles A. Burrows Office Building. I’m the medical examiner.”

  “That’s where all the courtrooms and county offices are too isn’t it?” Dimitri asked.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Maybe you can give me a tour sometime,” he said with a smile – the first smile I ever saw on his face. “Would you like to go the Rodeo with me on Saturday? They’re holding trials for broncos and bull riding. Some of my crew will be trying to qualify. I’m sure there will be food and many things to enjoy there at the county fair too.”

  Sylvia looked stunned but interested. A smile grew slowly on her face, and she nodded. “Maybe.”

  “Junior!” Babs said loudly. “You should go too! Take a date!”

  Junior walked over to the head of the Historical Society. “Miss Liberty, will you go to the rodeo with me?”

  “Um...yes?”

  Babs threw up her arms. She wanted him to ask Maggie.

  Liberty didn’t smile, but her face turned red as she patted the back of her hair, and her eyes bounced around the room, finally landing on Sylvia. “What will I wear?”

  She obviously didn’t date much, seemed a little flustered, and excited by Junior’s attention. Sylvia, an attractive professional in her late 30s, came to her rescue, putting her arm around her.

  “I’ll come over, and we’ll get you fixed up in the perfect outfit for the rodeo, sweetie.”

  “You’re going to come too, aren’t you, Sylvia?”

  “Of course, sweetheart. Dimitri...it’s a date!”

  What in the world is going on here? One minute we’re talking about bones, and the next minute the diner has turned into a matchmaking club.

  “Pops, you should come too.”

  “I’ll go with you, Jake,” Maggie said, looking impishly at Babs.

  Now Babs was really steaming.

  “We might as well just make it a big group date,” I said. “Red, you can take Deloris.”

  “What do you say, Deloris?” Red asked.

  She gave a cryptic but confirming shrug. I was expecting her to object, but she didn’t.

  “Babs, you and Smoke should come too.”

  “Who’s going to run the diner?” she asked.

  “It’ll be a slow afternoon,” I said. “Everyone will be at the county fair and bronco trials. I’ll get Zack to cook, and Ketty can run the dining room. I’ll have Hattie and Sandy come in to sip iced tea and supervise them from the booth, in case they need a real grown-up for anything.”

  “What about you and Brody?” Babs asked.

  “I have to get my meat from the butcher shop on Saturday,” I said. “But I’ll ask Josie to have it ready early for me. How about you, Brody?”

  “Um...” He looked a little hesitant. “I’ll have to meet you there, Mercy. I have some...business to take care of.”

  I guess that’s what you get when your boyfriend is the County Sheriff. I’ll get my neighbor, Ruby, to come with me.

  Chapter Three

  It was a beautiful day for the fair on Saturday, but maybe a little too hot. I got the Ladies’ Aide girls, Hattie and Sandy, set up in the corner booth at the diner to help with any problems that my young workers might encounter. They were happy with free appetizers and all the coffee and tea they could drink. I knew Zack could handle the cooking pretty well, but Ketty was still in high school and just came in to clear tables at lunchtime this summer. But she was a smart girl. She’d be able to manage the dining room on a slow day.

  My little roadster was somewhat small, so we decided to take Ruby’s car. Ruby Owana is my neighbor and best friend. She was starting her teaching job at the high school next month. We picked up Babs and Deloris too. Babs lives upstairs of the diner, and Deloris’s house is just a few blocks from me.

  “Are Red and Junior all riding with Jake?” Bab’s asked as she got in the back seat with Deloris.

  “I think Junior, Red, and Smoke are all riding with Jake in his big truck,” I told her. “Dimitri is picking up Maggie from her shop, and then he’ll get Sylvia and Liberty in Calhoun on his way.”

  McLean County had outgrown the old fair grounds in Calhoun, the County Seat, and the event had been moved to the big rodeo grounds in Salter’s Bluff a few miles further down the road.

  “We’re never going to be able to keep this big group of ours all together,” Deloris said, putting her nail file back into her hairdo. “There’s just too many of us, and we won’t all want to do the same things. I want to go right to the baking pavilion where they’ll be judging the pies this afternoon. I don’t care much about that damned old rodeo.”

  “I’m with you, Deloris!” Babs said excitedly. “They always hand out some tasty treats during the pie judging...and it’s close to the foot-long hotdogs and funnel cakes.”

  “Yeah, the guys will want to see the animals and drink beer, and then the couples will want to go and win kewpie dolls,” I said.

  But I needed to sneak away on my own for a while. The trials for the barrel races in the rodeo started in an hour, and Pastor D’Arnaud was bringing his horse, Maybelle, there for me. I would take her for a ride once or twice a week during the summer. She was a young, strong girl, and I knew she would handle those sharp turns very well. It had been years since I’d ridden in a rodeo, and I just really wanted to get in the saddle again and feel like a cowgirl.

  “Ruby,” I continued, “you should go check out the food with Deloris and Babs. I have to stop at the firefighters’ booth to pick something up for Brody,” I lied. “See if you can find a good recipe for a dessert for me.”

  “What’s wrong with my pies?” Deloris asked. She was always happiest when she had an excuse to be grumpy.

  “Your pies are the best, Deloris. You know that. People come from Baller's Ferry to get your Dutch caramel apple. I’m looking for a muffin or something we can use on Sunday mornings...and it wouldn’t hurt to generate a little goodwill in the community by using somebody’s blue-ribbon recipe.”

  “Well...I like muffins,” she conceded. “Smoke’s muffins are more like paperweights, so he started calling them scones. Stones would be more like it. What would really be nice is a good pudding.”

  “Yes!” Ruby agreed. “Nobody makes pudding anymore. It’s a wonderful comfort food. My mother makes the best persimmon pudding.”

  “You should enter it in the fair,” Babs suggested. “They’re just judging the pies today. You can sign up to enter your pudding when we get to the food exhibits. If it’s baked or steamed, it could go in the side dishes category. Entrees and side dishes are next weekend. I’m going to enter my creamed peas and candied yams.”

  “You should do that, Ruby,” I encouraged her. “If your mom’s persimmon pudding is half as good as your family recipe for molasses chocolate chip cookies, it will get a ribbon for sure.”

  “It’s really good,” she said. “I think I’ll do it. Maybe Mom will come in and make it for me.”

  It was busy, and we had to wait in line for a while to get into the parking lot.

  “We’re all going to meet at the Ferris wheel at 11:00 a.m.,” I told them as we got out of the car. “We should go our separate ways from there and meet back there again at 5:00. We can all eat together at the church dining booth. Josie’s making her pot roast.”

  “I like their fried chicken,” Babs said.

  “I’m going to be tied up for an hour or so. Why don’t you ladies meet the gang and then go check out your food. I’ll catch up with you at 1:00.”

  “Oh! That’s good. We’ll meet you at the grandstand, Mercy,” Ruby said. “I do want to see the calf-roping trials. Those start at 1:00.” Ruby gave me a hug and whispered, “You’re up to something, Mercy Howard.”

  What can I say? She just moved to town last summer, but she already knew me better than anyone else.

  I left the other girls by the midway and went to the grands
tand where the rodeo trials were underway. There was a booth for contestants at the rodeo grounds just inside the gate.

  “Hi, I’m Mercy Howard. I’m signed up for barrel racing,” I said to the cowboy at the table.

  “Yes, ma’am. A feller just parked your horse in the stable behind me. Here’s your number. Put that on, and take this card with you. Go check in with Gus right over there, and he’ll get you in the queue. It’s moving pretty fast, so it shouldn’t be long before you’re called.”

  I was number 8402. It was in large print on two one-foot square pieces of poster board connected by two shoelaces. I put it over my head so the judges could see the number on my chest and back.

  Gus was a jovial man. “Mercy Howard,” he said as he took my registration card. “There are just two on the field and two on the bench ahead of you, so you can have a seat on the bench with them, or you can stay here and chat with me.”

  “I think I’ll chat with you, Gus. Were you a rider?”

  “I used to ride those big bulls, back in the day. The meaner they were, they better I liked them.”

  “Sounds dangerous. You’re not Gus Gabriel, the Bluegrass Buckaroo, are you?”

  “Heh heh, yeah, I reckon I am. I didn’t think anyone still remembered that name.”

  “You’re legend in my family, Gus. My dad used to talk about you all the time. I saw you win the State Fair Rodeo in Lexington when I was a little girl. Did you ever get hurt when you were riding?”

  “Oh, I got stomped pretty good three or four times, Mercy. But it’s not as dangerous as being a rodeo clown. Those are the real heroes and role models, you know.”

  “I’ve heard.”

  “Molly Chisholm!” he announced on his microphone, and a nice young woman stood up and walked to her horse. “Say, Mercy. You can’t be a real cowgirl without a cowboy hat. The judges might think you’re a tenderfoot.”

  “Well, I left in a hurry...”

  “Gracie!” he hollered. “Come on over here. Mercy, this is my best girl, Gracie. Hey, Grace, would you mind letting Mercy here borrow your hat?”