Alafair Tucker 01 - The Old Buzzard Had It Coming

Wednesday?”
    “That’s what Bud says.”
    “You know, Zorah Millar told me that Mr. Lang’s son Dan used to be sweet on Maggie Ellen Day awhile ago, but he broke it off with her because Harley didn’t approve.”
    “Oh, he more than didn’t approve,” Nadine assured her. “Them two planned on getting married, is what I hear, but Harley flat out forbade it. I don’t know why he took against the boy. Dan Lang seems like a fine catch to me. You’d think he’d be glad to see his daughter settled. Anyway, the story I hear is that Dan went out to the Day place to confront Harley about it. Intended to tell him that he was taking Maggie Ellen off and that was all there was to it.”
    “Why didn’t he, then?” Alafair wondered.
    Nadine shrugged, then leaned forward over the counter, looking conspiritorial. “Somehow the two of them got into it, and Harley caught Dan one up the side of his head with a hoe handle. Knocked him silly. I gather Harley would have beat Dan near to death if John Lee and Maggie Ellen hadn’t put a stop to it.”
    “I’ll swan!” Alafair declared.
    “Well, Harley got in a lucky blow. I’d think that healthy young fellow would have killed Harley, otherwise. Even so, I reckon Dan figured he’d had enough of the Days after that, because I never heard another word about him and Maggie Ellen.”
    “That’s a shame,” Alafair said. She was thinking that the situation sounded a little like Phoebe and John Lee’s. Had Harley Day decided that if he couldn’t be happy, none of the rest of his family could be, either?
    “That gal must have been determined to clear out of there, though. Last I heard, she had married a bricklayer and was living in Shawnee. That Maggie Ellen is a feisty little gal, from what I know of her.”
    “Miz Millar has a high opinion of her, too.”
    “Speaking of Miz Millar,” Nadine said, “she may have been Harley’s sister, but there was no love lost between them, either.”
    “I got that impression, myself, when I met them during a visit to Miz Day,” Alafair confessed.
    “Yes, they must have called the sheriff out to their place ten times in the last few years with some complaint or another about Harley. Him and Zorah’s husband had some bad blood about an inheritance, I believe. The Millars had all kinds of mischief going on at their farm—fences pulled down, garden ripped up, that sort of thing.”
    “Why didn’t Scott arrest Harley, then?”
    “I don’t think they could ever prove it was him doing it, though J.D. was sure of it. In the last couple of years, though, Harley took to showing up at their front gate and hollering cuss words at them, until J.D. would threaten to fill him full of buckshot if he didn’t get gone.”
    Alafair shook her head. “What a poor excuse for a human being that man was. Have you talked to Scott since this all began?”
    Nadine chuckled. “Oh, he’s been in here, but you know how he is. He just teases and jokes, and in the end you don’t find out anything. Hattie was laughing and complaining that her husband never tells her anything interesting, either.”
    “Well, I’ll be interested to see how it all falls out,” Alafair said. “I just hope John Lee ain’t involved. I’d hate to see him go to jail. So how is Freddie these days?”
    Nadine smiled at the mention of her son. “He’s just fine. Growing like a weed. I saw your girl Martha early this morning. She was picking up mail for the bank. I swear, Alafair, she looks more like you every day.”
    “Mercy, don’t tell her that!” Alafair joked, though the comment pleased her. “Well, I’d love to stay and talk more, Nadine, but there’s chores awaitin’, and I mean to visit my sister-in-law before I head home.”
    ***
    The women said their farewells, and Alafair stepped outside. She caught her breath at the shock of the wind, but pressed on grimly. She took a left at the corner and ran the half-block to her sister-in-law’s square white frame house, thinking about Russell Lang and wondering what the man knew. She was surprised to see Shaw’s two hounds snuffling around Josie’s yard. They trotted up to her with wags and whuffs of welcome, but she was too cold to pet them.
    She rushed through the gate, picking up speed as the cold insinuated itself deeper into her bones. She didn’t stop to knock but flung the front door open and ran inside at full tilt.
    “Josie!” she called through the wool swathing her face. “You