I Still Dream About You

Ready to Leave (Again)

ESCROW ON CRESTVIEW CLOSED RIGHT ON TIME. AND A FEW DAYS later when Babs received the check from Maggie for her half of the commission, Babs looked at it and thought what a complete idiot Maggie was. But she kept the check anyway.

Friday Maggie had taken Ethel and Brenda out to dinner at the Highlands Grill for a big celebration dinner. Now she was free of all obligations and could get on with her plan.

This morning, she was headed back down to the river to hide her things (again) and be ready for her departure in the morning. She had saved Crestview, so even though there had been a slight delay, just like Hazel said, everything happens for a reason. She reached over and turned on the radio to the easy listening station. She was in the mood for something with violins, but then she was always in the mood for something with violins. It reminded her of old movies. Rosemary Clooney had just started singing “Tenderly,” one of her favorites, when the mattress truck entered the highway. Maggie didn’t see him, and he obviously didn’t see her, because he plowed right into the side of her car.

It was such a shock; one second, Rosemary Clooney was singing, then a loud, sickening crash, and the next thing she knew, her car had flipped up in the air and had come down with another loud noise, then flipped up in the air again, and hit the side of the road and started rolling over and over down a steep embankment, until it finally landed on its roof with a thud.

She must have passed out along the way, because when she came to, she was hanging upside down in the front seat, with a strange terrible-smelling creature right beside her. It was staring at her with odd gold-and-green eyes and slanted pupils, but she couldn’t tell what it was. She felt like she was spinning around inside a washing machine, and as hard as she tried, she couldn’t focus on anything for more than a second. She didn’t know if she was dead or alive. She could be in hell for all she knew, and the creature sitting beside her could be the devil himself. Then she heard voices yelling from a distance and the sound of people running toward her. A man approached the car, dropped down to his knees, and stuck his face in the window.

“Lady, are you all right?”

“I’m a little dizzy.”

“Try not to move; you might have broken something.” She heard another person run up, and a woman’s voice said frantically, “Oh, my God. Is she all right?”

The man said, “I think so; she’s talking.” Then a woman’s upside-down face appeared in the window and shouted at Maggie as if she were deaf, “Honey, I’ve called the paramedics, and they’re on their way; the fire department is just a half mile down the road, so don’t you worry; you just stay calm, okay? Does anything hurt?”

She was looking up at the woman’s spinning nostrils and answered, “I don’t think so; I’m just dizzy.”

Then the woman clapped her hands loudly and shouted at the terrible-smelling black creature inside the car, “Leroy… get out of there!” But whatever or whoever Leroy was, he didn’t move. The woman turned to the man. “Gary, go get Leroy out of the car.” The man ran around to the other side and pulled Leroy out of the car and then said to his wife, “Stay here; I’m going to see if the guy in the truck needs anything.”

The woman leaned back in and said to Maggie, “Dear, I’m Marian Conway, and that’s my husband, Gary.”

Maggie tried to nod, but it was almost impossible to nod hanging upside down, though she did manage a “How do you do?”

“They told us not to move you until they get here… Excuse me a minute,” she said, and stood up and yelled at her husband again. “Gary. Get the goats! They’re running out on the road!”

Maggie finally figured out that Leroy must be a goat. But Leroy was not out on the road. When he had been pulled out of one side of the car, he had promptly come around to the other side and stuck his face in next to Maggie’s. The woman pushed him away with her leg. “Get out of here, Leroy, and leave her alone!”

Maggie asked, “I don’t understand what happened. Why am I upside down?”

“That mattress truck pulled right out in front of you and sideswiped you, and you flipped over in our yard. I saw the whole thing. It’s a wonder you’re not dead. Is there anyone I should call? What’s your name, honey?”

“Margaret Fortenberry.”

There was a pause. The woman leaned in and looked at her more closely. “You’re not Margaret Fortenberry-Miss Alabama, are you?”

“Yes.”

“Oooh, for gosh sake, my mother was Jo Anna Horton! She was in the Miss Alabama pageant the same year you won; she played the marimba and tap-danced? Do you remember her? She always said you were just the nicest person.”

This was not the conversation Maggie would have liked to be having at this moment, but still upside down, she answered, “Oh, yes. I do remember her. How is she?”

“She’s just fine. Oh, my gosh, wait till she hears about this.”

In the short time before the fire truck arrived, Maggie found out that Gary and Marian had bought the land she was now hanging upside down on about ten years ago and had started Sweet Home Alabama Goat Farm. Eleven years before, they’d found out that their second baby was allergic to cow’s milk and realized how hard it was to find good fresh goat milk products and thought that starting a goat farm would be a great opportunity to leave corporate America, something Gary had always wanted to do anyway, and now he was having a chance to serve mankind as well…

Maggie was told in great detail all the many reasons why goat milk was far superior to cow’s milk. When the fire truck with the paramedics arrived, they immediately cut her out of her seat belt and carefully pulled her through the window and laid her down on the ground. As the paramedics were busy checking her for broken bones, one remarked, “I’ll tell you this, ma’am. If you hadn’t been wearing your seat belt, you would be dead.” As they continued to check out her arms and legs, she couldn’t help but wonder. Why would a woman who was planning to jump in the river and drown herself be wearing a seat belt in the first place? How stupid. After examining her, they found that other than a sore shoulder and a bruise on her forehead where her purse had hit her when the car was rolling, she was fine. But everything else around her was a mess. She had knocked down the Conways’ huge sign and half of their fence, and her car had been completely totaled. Now she was going to have to fill out all those insurance forms, and God knows how long that would take. The truck driver, who was not hurt, was claiming the accident was her fault, and so there was probably going to be a lawsuit before it was over with.

Later, after the police had come and taken pictures of the accident site and filled out the report, she looked up and saw her car being towed away and realized, too late, that her raft, her glue, and her weights were still in the trunk.

A few minutes later, Brenda answered the phone at home.

“Brenda, it’s Maggie… listen, are you busy?”

“No, why?”

“I need a ride. Could you possibly come and pick me up and take me home?”

“Sure, where are you?”

“I’m at the Sweet Home Alabama Goat Farm.”

“A goat farm? What are you doing at a goat farm?”

“Well, I wasn’t at a goat farm; I just wound up here.”

“How?”

“A mattress truck hit me.”

“A truck! You were hit by a truck? Oh, dear Jesus in heaven!” Brenda screamed down the hall, “Robbie, Maggie’s been hit by a truck!”

Maggie heard Robbie’s voice in the background. “What?”

“She’s been hit by a truck.” Suddenly, Robbie was on the phone. “Maggie, are you all right?”

“Yes. I just had a little car accident… but I’m all right.”

“Have you been checked out?”

“Yes. The paramedics were here, and they said I was fine; no broken bones, but my car was wrecked. Could you and Brenda come get me and take me home?”

“Of course, where are you?”

“I’m out on the old highway, right past the old Silver Slipper Supper Club, at the Sweet Home Alabama Goat Farm on the right.”

“Is there a sign or something?”

“Well… not anymore. But you’ll see a lot of men out on the road, working on a fence.”

“Okay, we’ll be right there.”

After she hung up, Robbie was out the door in less than twenty seconds, with Brenda running to catch up to her. Robbie wasn’t an emergency room nurse for nothing.

Maggie sat on the front porch, waiting for them, with Marian and Maggie’s new best friend, Leroy the goat. From the time she had landed in their yard, Leroy had followed her everywhere.

“I swear,” Marian said, “Leroy has just fallen in love with you. He won’t stop pestering you for one second; he’s never done that before.” It was really very sweet, and Maggie guessed she should be flattered, but she had never been this close to a goat in her life, and she had no earthly idea how to pet a goat. Still, she reached out and patted it on the head, trying to be nice.

Maggie and Marian sat and looked out across the pasture and watched as Gary, with a bunch of neighbors, tried to put up a makeshift fence so the goats wouldn’t wander out on the road and get hit. “I’m so sorry about this,” Maggie said. “Believe me, this is the last thing in the world I wanted to have happen today.”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” Marian said. “It wasn’t your fault; I’m just glad you’re alive. Just thank your lucky stars. This could have been your last day on earth.”

A few minutes later, Maggie had a long-distance conversation with Jo Anna, Marian’s mother, which started out by Marian saying, “Momma, you will never guess who just wound up in our yard today.” To Jo Anna’s credit, she hadn’t guessed. About forty-five minutes later, after Maggie and Marian had exchanged information and addresses, Robbie and Brenda arrived to pick Maggie up. As they drove home, Brenda, who was driving, looked at Maggie in the rearview mirror and said, “I’m not even going to ask you what you were doing driving around out in the sticks all by yourself.”

After a moment of silence, Brenda said, “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“What were you doing?”

Robbie said, “Now, Brenda, that’s none of your business.”

“Well, I guess it is… she’s my business partner, and I guess I have a right to know why she was way out here.”

Maggie sighed. “Oh, Brenda. If I told you, you’d never believe it.”

“Try me.”

“I was just driving around in the country, that’s all.”

Brenda was horrified. “Why? There are snakes down here and everything!”

Snakes? My God, Brenda was right. Maggie hadn’t thought about that. Oh, Lord. That’s all she needed. To go to all this trouble to do it right and then get snakebitten by a big old water moccasin on her way down to the river. By the time they found her, she would probably be all swollen up and bloated, and they always photographed the body, and no telling where that photo would wind up.

ON MONDAY, BRENDA took Maggie over to the car leasing company to fill out all the papers about the accident. The owner had been very fond of Hazel and immediately gave Maggie a new car to drive. Then Maggie drove over to the auto body shop, where her old car was. They had to open the trunk with a crowbar so she could get all her things out and transfer them to the new car. What a perfect mess. This was going to mean yet another delay. She was not only the victim of an accident, she was also a key witness, and she had to be available to give a statement. Also, she had to make sure the leasing company was fully reimbursed for the car and that the poor Conways got their insurance company to pay for a new fence and a new sign. Having dealt with insurance companies in the past, she knew what a hard battle that could be. But as soon as that was cleared up, she would go on with her plans, as soon as possible. Every extra day she stayed was just adding up more debt. Being a woman in the business world was expensive. Just the sheer maintenance alone was costing her a lot of money. Hair, nails, makeup, cold cream, dry cleaning and laundry, not to mention food and gas for the car.

When Maggie finally arrived back home, she saw that Miss Pitcock the librarian had faxed her yet another document regarding the Crocker siblings. Oh dear. A few weeks ago Maggie had called and thanked her profusely for helping her with her research, saying that she had all the information she needed, so there was no reason to go forward. But evidently once Miss Pitcock got started, she could not be stopped. And today she had faxed Maggie something that had thoroughly confused her.

Miss Pitcock had somehow managed to obtain a photocopy of Edward Crocker’s will, dated January 11, 1935, and after pages of instructions dealing with numerous foundations and charities, Edward had specified that in the event of his death, the business and Crestview were to be willed to the Dalton family. But he had left the entire bulk of his fortune (including Edwina’s house in London) to Lettie Ross, his childhood nurse. There was not even a mention of an Edwina Crocker in the entire will! And who was Lettie Ross? If the woman in London who had passed herself off as Edwina Crocker had been his mistress or even a distant relative, then why had Edward not left her a dime in his will? It didn’t make any sense. Oh, well, it was obvious that detective work was not as simple as Nancy Drew would have you think.