Hope Callaghan - Garden Girls 03 - Smoky Mountain Mystery by Hope Callaghan

Mason jar connection.  “It was Gloria.”
    Liz clamped her mouth shut and glared across the table at Margaret.
    Old Aunt Ethel leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms as she looked over at Liz.  “So I gave you the first clue, the train tickets, yet your sister was the one that tracked me down.”
    “I’m still not sure exactly why we’re here,” Gloria insisted.  “Other than what Liz just told me.  Some crazy talk about a buried treasure or hidden money.”
    The wrinkled face with the piercing eyes swung back to study Gloria again.  “You really don’t know why you’re here?”
    “Nope.  Liz led me to believe her life might be in some kind of danger.” Gloria’s gaze wandered over to where her sister was squirming around in her chair.  “She can be a pain in the rear but no way could I just pretend everything was okay when there was a chance, albeit an off chance, that her life might actually be in danger.”
    Aunt Ethel sensed the animosity between the two siblings and almost rubbed her hands together in glee.  This whole thing might work out better than even she could’ve anticipated. 
    The old lady leaned back in her chair, ready to share a story that bordered on unbelievable.  Except it was real.  Very real.
    “Your father - my only brother - Delbert, or Doodle as we called him…”
    Gloria stifled a laugh.  Never in her life had she heard anyone call her dad, “Doodle.” 
    Liz was a little less subtle about her response.  “You gotta be kidding me!  Dad’s nickname was Doodle??”  She doubled over in laughter at the thought.  By the time she stopped laughing, tears were rolling down her cheeks.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to interrupt.  Go on, go on!”
    Aunt Ethel looked at Liz like she just sprouted two heads.  She shook her head in disbelief.  This niece was quite the nut job.
    Ethel shot Liz a nasty glare before continuing with her story.   
    “We lived on this here farm growing up.  We was real poor. For years we struggled just to survive.  Then prohibition came along. Daddy saw a way to make a little extra money selling moonshine. We were pretty young back then.”  Ethel’s expression grew distant.  “I still remember that day he brought the moonshine equipment home and set it up in the barn.  We never had nothin’ new out here on the farm and this stuff was brand spankin’ new.”
    She continued her story.  “Took a few tries for him to figure out how the dang thing worked.  Momma, she wouldn’t let us go near that barn once the moonshine stuff was in there.  Guess she was afraid we’d get into the liquor or that somethin’ would blow the place to smithereens and she wanted to make certain none of us kids was inside.”
    Aunt Ethel swallowed the last drop of tea before wandering over to the stove to refill her cup.  She made her way back to the table before continuing her fascinating tale. 
    “Daddy musta got real good at makin’ moonshine.  He got so busy, he brought in a partner to help him, Skeeter McGee.  Skeeter lived just up the road from us,” she explained.
    She went on, “Before long, we had cars lined up all the way down the driveway with folks lookin’ to buy moonshine.  We kids would watch ‘em carry that stuff from the barn by the crate full.  Pretty soon Momma got a brand new kitchen stove and all us kids got new Sunday best clothes.”
    Ethel’s expression grew grim.  She paused for a moment, as if trying to get a grip on the emotions threatening to spill over.  “Everything was going dandy.  The farm was doin’ good, we was all healthy and happy.  Then one day disaster struck.”
    “Daddy and Skeeter was out in the barn like they was every mornin’.  I was here in the kitchen helpin’ Momma with some laundry when suddenly we heard this loud KABOOM!  The whole house shook, right down to the foundation.  We ran over to the window and saw someone running lickety split out of the barn.  Smoke and