“Sheriff Parker is old,” Rosie said.
“He’s not that much older than me,” Mama said, laughing.
Rosie clenched her hands. “I heard his former wife disappeared under suspicious circumstances.”
“His ex-wife lives in Richmond,” Anna Lee said.
“He also has bad taste. I asked him who his favorite movie director was, and he said Michael Bay. Who says that? He didn’t even know who Michael Curtiz was.” Rosie’s eyes widened.
“I don’t know who Michael Curtiz is,” Anna Lee said.
“He’s only one of the most famous directors of all time. Ever heard of Casablanca, White Christmas, Mildred Pierce, We’re No Angels?” Rosie asked, leaning forward.
“I’m not obsessed with old movies like you two,” Anna Lee said, waving her hand.
“We prefer to think of ourselves as enlightened,” Mama replied.
“That’s right,” Rosie said. “We appreciate the classics, unlike some people.”
“Though maybe some people don’t know where to start with the classics,” Mama said.
“Or maybe some people don’t care,” Rosie challenged, lifting her eyebrows innocently.
“Anybody still here?” The deep voice came from the lobby.
Anna Lee didn’t get up but yelled, “In the back.”
Mayor Grant and Miss Matilda swept into Mama’s office, arguing as usual. Mr. Waverman trailed behind, his mailbag slung over his shoulder. All of a sudden, the office was like a puddle crowded with too many minnows.
Mr. Waverman pushed his way past Mayor Grant and Miss Matilda and placed a bundle of envelopes on Mama’s desk, then held out a letter to Anna Lee. “Got something for you. Didn’t want you to have to wait on this. Best open it now. It’s not good news.”
Anna Lee looked at Mr. Waverman suspiciously. “Did you read my letter?”
Mr. Waverman straightened up to his full height of five foot four inches. “I certainly did not. Postal workers are not permitted to open another person’s mail. I can’t help it if I have a gift for knowing whether the mail is good or bad.”
“So you’re always telling everyone,” Anna Lee said, rolling her eyes.
“Young lady, I was nearly killed ten years ago while carrying out my duties for the postal service. I was rushing to get Mrs. Lawler her social security check before the bank closed and never saw that Buick coming. The Miracle was the only thing that saved me. Dr. Bentworth himself called me extraordinary.” Mr. Waverman sniffed.
Anna Lee snatched the letter from Mr. Waverman’s hands, tore it open, and yelped. “My rent is going up again! I’m going to murder my landlord.” She shot Mr. Waverman a chilling look that could have frozen over the river before stomping back to the lobby.
“Some people never learn.” Mr. Waverman tipped his hat to Mama. “Nothing too bad in your mail. Y’all enjoy your afternoon. I’ve got to deliver a humdinger to Mrs. Gooch. I suspect her divorce is final.”
Rosie waved good-bye to Mr. Waverman and his bulging mailbag. She sure was glad she didn’t have to knowingly deliver bad news to all her friends. Why, she’d never want to leave her house again, not even for a double movie feature in Gloster.
Mayor Grant heaved himself over to Anna Lee’s empty seat and ran a hand over his shirtfront. “Caroline, I know you’re fixing to head home, but we’ve got something to discuss before the city council meeting tonight. Is that popcorn?” He reached across the desk and grabbed a handful. “I could use a snack.”
Mama opened her hands wide. “What’s the problem this time?”
“Marvin Blandstone is the problem. He’s petitioned for a booth at the festival based on another one of his theories, even though we all voted no to his alien reptiles last year,” Miss Matilda said, her dark skin gleaming against one of her signature blue dresses. She was the owner of Sook Diner and the longest serving member of the city council.
“You have to admit the train treasure is an interesting story though Marvin may be climbing up the wrong tree with his ideas on where it is,” Mayor Grant said.
“It’s barking up the wrong tree, not climbing,” Miss Matilda said.
“Now, that doesn’t make a lick of sense. Why would I bark up a tree?”
“It’s a saying,” Miss Matilda said.
“It’s a silly saying,” Mayor Grant retorted.
They were now turned toward each other, faces outraged and red. From behind them, Mama pretended to stick a knife in her chest. Rosie giggled.
Mayor Grant chewed his popcorn, swallowed, and promptly turned back around to grab another handful. “If Marvin wants to set up a booth about the train treasure legend, we should let him do it. Folks are interested in the treasure, and it could spice up the booth lineup. It is our hundredth year of Miracles, and my last year as mayor. This year’s festival needs to be bigger than ever.”
Every year, one person in Glimmer Creek got a Miracle. The Festival of the Fish was a celebration of all those good fortunes. Mama also said it brought in tons of money because everyone in Glimmer Creek and the surrounding towns came out to support it. Businesses shut down early, and there were games and music. Rows of booths filled with crafts and food lined the streets, and the town decorated River Bend Park with silver-and-blue banners and twinkle lights. The festival always took place on October twenty-first, the date of the very first Miracle, when all the fish had returned to Glimmer Creek after dying out from a massive flood.
“What do you think about the train treasure?” Mayor Grant asked Mama.
Mama smiled. “What’s not to like? It’s the ultimate mystery.”
Rosie lowered her voice, trying to imitate the narrator voice-over in film commercials. “It was a train robbery gone wrong. Only one thief escaped. His name”—dramatic pause—“was Lonnie Garrett.”
Mama took up the deep voice. “He stole a fortune in gold and was never heard from again. Legend has it he hid the gold somewhere in the sleepy town of Glimmer Creek.”
“A fortune worth millions,” Rosie continued.
“A town shrouded in mystery,” Mama said.
“Who will find it?” Rosie ended.
Mama and Rosie grinned at each other. The train treasure would make a great film. It had all the elements of a classic crime drama—robbery, suspense, and an antihero people secretly loved.
“What on earth are you two talking about?” Miss Matilda said. “We should not be telling our youngsters the story of a common thief.”
Mama cleared her throat, her mouth twitching again. “From what I know, deep down Lonnie wasn’t a bad kid. He only got involved with that Butler Gang after his parents died.”
Miss Matilda harrumphed. “Well, no one can prove Lonnie Garrett came back to Glimmer Creek after the robbery.”
“No one can disprove it either,” Mama said, raising one eyebrow.
“That settles it,” Mayor Grant said. “I’m voting yes to Marvin’s petition.”
Miss Matilda heaved out a sigh.
Mayor Grant leaned toward Rosie. “I heard about the bench.”
“That bench was real rickety,” Rosie said, suddenly absorbed with a stray pencil.