Free 1 Murder on Sugar Creek by Michelle Goff Page A

Although
the lady sold the diner in the 1990s and died a couple years later, her
father’s lunch bucket remained the centerpiece of the display. Maggie
frequented the diner for its fried pork chops and potato salad, both of which
she considered the best she had ever eaten, and for its nostalgia. During
childhood trips to Jasper, there was never a question of where to eat lunch. On
those visits, Maggie always sat in a booth beside her dad and opposite her mom
and Mark. The sight of the old lunch bucket evoked other memories for Maggie.
With just one glance at it, she could smell the coal dust and taste the 3
Musketeer bars and Atomic Fireballs her dad brought her and Mark every evening
when he came home from his shift at the mines.
    These memories and others swirled
in Maggie’s mind, but once she spotted Seth sitting with a few of his fellow police
officers at a table near the back of the diner, she tried to concentrate on the
task at hand. As she approached Seth’s table, she said, “I knew I’d find you
here. Do you have a minute?”
    She caught Seth in the middle of chewing,
so he held up one finger to indicate he needed a moment. While he finished his
bite of club sandwich, one of his dining companions teased Maggie.
    “Watch what you’re saying, boys, we
have a reporter in our midst,” the officer said.
    “That’s right,” Maggie countered,
“I’ll quote every one of you on the piece I’m writing about the town’s fodder shock
contest.” 
    Maggie’s quip elicited laughter
from each of the table’s inhabitants including Seth, who had risen from his
chair. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “No one touch my food or spit in my
Pepsi.”
    Maggie and Seth walked outside the
diner to talk.
    “The days are getting colder,” Seth
noted as he zipped his windbreaker. “Listen, Maggie, I’m sorry about the phone
call. I was out of line.”
    “No, you weren’t. That’s why I’m
here. I want to apologize for lying to you. Of course, when I promised you I
would let it go, I had every intention of letting it go, so I didn’t lie to you
at the time. That doesn’t change the facts, though.”
    “It’s just,” Seth winced, “that I’m
worried about you, Maggie. I don’t know why you’ve designated yourself Kevin
Mullins’ savior. Or what you thought you’d accomplish by talking to those
people.”
    “Wow,” Maggie jerked her head back.
“Have you been talking to Joe? He said almost the same thing to me this
morning.”
    “At the very least, I hope we’re
giving you something to think about.”
    “You are.”
    “Good. Because I have to ask, what
were you going to do if you had uncovered something during those interviews?”
    “That’s easy. I would have gone to the
police.”
    “That’s what I want to hear.” Seth
looked at the diner’s lunch bucket-shaped sign, which hung overhead. “I don’t
know if you remember –”
    “This is where we had our first
date.”
    Seth tilted his head. “Do you still
eat here?”
    “Of course, I do. I’ve eaten here
most of my life.”
    “Fried pork chops and potato
salad?”
    “Right.”
    “Why don’t you join us? Me and the
guys will make room for you.”
    “That’s okay. I’m meeting someone
for lunch.”
    “Maybe another time then.”
    As Maggie
walked down the street to join Luke for lunch at the sub shop, she couldn’t
help but wonder what Seth had meant by extending that invitation.
    After a pleasant lunch with Luke,
Maggie returned to work, finished the fodder shock story, and proofed copy for
Joe and the sports editor. When she completed her tasks, she decided to check
her email one more time before turning off her computer and closing up shop for
the day. Her inbox contained three new messages – one obit, one news release
from Jasper tourism, and one message that appeared to be spam. She clicked on
the latter message, which read, “Saw your stories about Mac Honaker. He was not
a good person. Just ask anyone who worked with