Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 04 - Awkward Moments by Marja McGraw Page A
Authors: Marja McGraw
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pulled up at the end of the drive. A car pulled up behind the truck and idled by the side of the road, watching us.
“Hurry, Mikey. Start filling in the hole.” I wasn’t sure how long they’d been watching, but it couldn’t hurt to make it look like we were just filling in another hole.
“But, Mom – ”
“Just do it, sweetie. Don’t turn around and look, but there are people watching and I don’t want them to know we found something. We’ll dig this up later, after your father and Bill come home.”
Just like his father would do, Mikey immediately turned and looked toward the street. With a self-conscious smile in the truck’s direction, he began filling in the hole as fast as he could.
“Oh, boy,” I said, watching the truck start moving and turn into the driveway. I looked for the dogs. Watson was lying beside the grave again and Sherlock was sniffing the oak tree.
The truck drove past the cottonwood trees and stopped. The driver climbed out and approached us. “Afternoon, ma’am,” a tall, slender man said to me. “What’cha doin?” He looked to be around fifty-five or so, and he had thick longish deep brown hair and a mustache. He wore work jeans and a tee shirt. Although he was slender, he had ropey muscles, maybe from some kind of hard work.
Thankfully, the dogs came running over. After all, there was a fresh human here for them to sniff.
“We’re filling in the holes people dug last night.” I stopped and fingered the cell phone in my pocket. “You seem awfully interested in what we’re doing. Can I assume you’re one of the people who was here last night? If so, grab a shovel and help us fill in your handiwork.” I tried to sound irritated and intimidating rather than worried.
“No, ma’am, I wasn’t here last night, but I’ll help you anyway.” He held out his hand. “I’m Tony Hellman. I heard what happened to old Charlie. He was a friend and I wanted to see what was going on out here.”
“See, Mom? I told you. Now he’s old Charlie.”
“Hush, Mikey,” I warned.
“Beg pardon, son?” Tony studied Mikey and me even while he took the spade out of my hands and began shoveling dirt into the hole.
The dogs continued to sniff the man, but he didn’t pay them any attention.
“I told my mom I wondered if people would start calling Charlie old Charlie, like they call Henry old Henry. That’s all.”
“You know, Tony, we can do this ourselves. You might as well be on your way.” He was polite, but something made me nervous. Maybe it was just because he’d been watching us. Maybe it was something more.
The dogs didn’t seem put off by the man, but their opinion wasn’t always on the mark.
Glancing up I saw that the other car was still idling by the property. “Do you know w ho those people are?” I asked.
Tony laughed, a pleasant and reassuring sound. “Sure. Those are the Dicksons. Chances are they were here digging last night. The whole town is buzzing about old Henry and his treasure. I have to admit, though, I was surprised to hear Charlie – excuse me, old Charlie – was out here digging last night. It just doesn’t sound like him. He wouldn’t have cared about buried treasure.”
“Why is that?” I asked, stepping back and pulling Mikey with me. Tony was making me feel comfortable, and I had a feeling that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
Sherlock and Watson continued to study Tony. Their tails swung in large circles. I wondered if he had pets and my dogs were picking up a likable scent.
“Because old Charlie had money of his own. Most people don’t know it, but he came from a wealthy family. Back in the day he decided he wanted to make his own way. His parents lived like paupers and it disgusted Charlie. He figured if they had money, they should enjoy life. Since they pinched their pennies so hard, he decided to get away before he became like them.
“When they died, Charlie inherited everything, but he never told a soul he could buy
“Hurry, Mikey. Start filling in the hole.” I wasn’t sure how long they’d been watching, but it couldn’t hurt to make it look like we were just filling in another hole.
“But, Mom – ”
“Just do it, sweetie. Don’t turn around and look, but there are people watching and I don’t want them to know we found something. We’ll dig this up later, after your father and Bill come home.”
Just like his father would do, Mikey immediately turned and looked toward the street. With a self-conscious smile in the truck’s direction, he began filling in the hole as fast as he could.
“Oh, boy,” I said, watching the truck start moving and turn into the driveway. I looked for the dogs. Watson was lying beside the grave again and Sherlock was sniffing the oak tree.
The truck drove past the cottonwood trees and stopped. The driver climbed out and approached us. “Afternoon, ma’am,” a tall, slender man said to me. “What’cha doin?” He looked to be around fifty-five or so, and he had thick longish deep brown hair and a mustache. He wore work jeans and a tee shirt. Although he was slender, he had ropey muscles, maybe from some kind of hard work.
Thankfully, the dogs came running over. After all, there was a fresh human here for them to sniff.
“We’re filling in the holes people dug last night.” I stopped and fingered the cell phone in my pocket. “You seem awfully interested in what we’re doing. Can I assume you’re one of the people who was here last night? If so, grab a shovel and help us fill in your handiwork.” I tried to sound irritated and intimidating rather than worried.
“No, ma’am, I wasn’t here last night, but I’ll help you anyway.” He held out his hand. “I’m Tony Hellman. I heard what happened to old Charlie. He was a friend and I wanted to see what was going on out here.”
“See, Mom? I told you. Now he’s old Charlie.”
“Hush, Mikey,” I warned.
“Beg pardon, son?” Tony studied Mikey and me even while he took the spade out of my hands and began shoveling dirt into the hole.
The dogs continued to sniff the man, but he didn’t pay them any attention.
“I told my mom I wondered if people would start calling Charlie old Charlie, like they call Henry old Henry. That’s all.”
“You know, Tony, we can do this ourselves. You might as well be on your way.” He was polite, but something made me nervous. Maybe it was just because he’d been watching us. Maybe it was something more.
The dogs didn’t seem put off by the man, but their opinion wasn’t always on the mark.
Glancing up I saw that the other car was still idling by the property. “Do you know w ho those people are?” I asked.
Tony laughed, a pleasant and reassuring sound. “Sure. Those are the Dicksons. Chances are they were here digging last night. The whole town is buzzing about old Henry and his treasure. I have to admit, though, I was surprised to hear Charlie – excuse me, old Charlie – was out here digging last night. It just doesn’t sound like him. He wouldn’t have cared about buried treasure.”
“Why is that?” I asked, stepping back and pulling Mikey with me. Tony was making me feel comfortable, and I had a feeling that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
Sherlock and Watson continued to study Tony. Their tails swung in large circles. I wondered if he had pets and my dogs were picking up a likable scent.
“Because old Charlie had money of his own. Most people don’t know it, but he came from a wealthy family. Back in the day he decided he wanted to make his own way. His parents lived like paupers and it disgusted Charlie. He figured if they had money, they should enjoy life. Since they pinched their pennies so hard, he decided to get away before he became like them.
“When they died, Charlie inherited everything, but he never told a soul he could buy
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