The Muckraker by Maggie Sonnek

Author:Maggie Sonnek
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Muckraker, mystery, newspaper, suspense, Maggie, Sonnek, fiction
Publisher: Fox Pointe Publishing, LLP
Published: 2024-03-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Bizzie

Bizzie felt a nudge as someone whispered her name. She opened her eyes but saw only blackness.

“Bizzie,” a woman whispered again.

“Ruth?” her voice sounded gravelly.

Ruth felt around for Bizzie’s hand and grasped it tight. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

“So am I,” she heard another woman’s voice—Mrs. Hendry.

“Where is—” Bizzie started.

“He’s—he’s sleeping.” Mrs. Hendry’s voice sounded different. Stronger? Clearer? Bizzie couldn’t tell.

Bizzie crawled on all fours through the small, dark hole. Mrs. Hendry waited with two helping arms to pull her out. Ruth followed behind. Bizzie dusted off her dress.

The moon, high in the sky now, shone through the kitchen window.

“How long were we in there?” she asked the women beside her.

“A couple of hours,” Mrs. Hendry replied, guiding the women back to the hole in the fence. “Lester was adamant about making sure there weren’t any more bats in the house.” She sighed. “Too bad there never was a bat in the house in the first place. But it was funny watching him stumble around with a baseball bat and tennis racket.”

Bizzie shuddered at the thought of Mr. Hendry walking around with a baseball bat.

“I’m sorry about him,” Mrs. Hendry said, prying open the barbed wire. She dug the tip of her shoe in the grass. That’s when Bizzie noticed Mrs. Hendry was wearing lace-up boots—the kind reserved for cold, snowy Minnesota winter mornings. Not only that, but she was wearing dirty overalls and a man’s button-down shirt. Bizzie cocked her head to the side. Mrs. Hendry had been barefoot and wearing a nightgown the last time she saw her.

“Mrs. Hendry,” Bizzie said, following the women toward the run-down house reserved for Ruth, Asta, and the other poor farm residents. “I can’t help but wonder why you’re wearing those boots? And those dirty overalls?”

Ruth and Mrs. Hendry looked down. Then, Mrs. Hendry looked up at Ruth with piercing eyes and pinched lips. That’s when Bizzie noticed one of Mrs. Hendry’s eyes was swollen shut. Mrs. Hendry and Ruth glanced at one another, silently communicating something.

“Where is he?” Ruth finally asked as if she were inquiring where Mrs. Hendry kept her spare bed linens.

Mrs. Hendry just stared at Ruth.

“Abigail?” Ruth asked again.

Bizzie thought back to the screams and crashes and then that thud. Bizzie’s eyes grew wide. Mrs. Hendry had just murdered her husband. Bizzie let out a gasp.

“Bizzie, why don’t you go back inside the house and get some sleep? It’s been a long night,” Ruth told Bizzie without taking her eyes off Mrs. Hendry.

Bizzie nodded and slipped into the shadows to gather her thoughts and refocus.

She heard Mrs. Hendry whisper, “He kept saying, ‘Who you been screwing? Who you been screwing? Who you been screwing in the back of the house?’ I was terrified!”

Ruth spoke up. “Okay, okay. You’re alright now.” After a few more muffled consolations, she added, “Let’s go clean up the mess.”

Bizzie let out the breath she’d been holding in. Her legs gave out and she slid to the ground, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

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