Author Interviewing Characters: Cynthia Leal Massey 

Well of Deception

On the morning of March 14, 1958, breeder Maggie Schneider, the Poultry Queen of Lipan County, is shot and killed while feeding her prize-winning, White Holland turkeys on her farm in south central Texas. Everyone knows who did it, but finding the killer isn’t so easy. The search uncovers a troubled family history of insanity, accidental deaths, and suicides. Was Maggie Schneider’s murder the result of a tainted bloodline, a family feud gone too far, or something more sinister?

Inspired by true events, novelist Cynthia Leal Massey weaves an intricate tale that spans the decades from the Great Depression to the crippling drought of the fifties. This is not a whodunnit. The mystery here is more profound: Why did he do it?

Well of Deception – Author Cynthia Leal Massey interviews Leta Becker

The truth is, I have been reluctant to interview Leta Becker. Her husband may or may not be a murderer, and if he is the killer, his victim was Leta’s sister-in-law, wife of her brother Sam. Nevertheless, I have been curious about her state-of-mind and how she is coping since he went missing two months ago. So, I drove to her farm on the outskirts of the county, up the long, winding gravel road leading to a one-story sprawling farmhouse fronted by an L-shaped porch. 

The wooden house with a partial limestone façade is situated on a slight rise on the otherwise flat farmland. Built in the early 1900s, the farmhouse was originally designed in dogtrot style with an open passageway from front to back. The breezeway has been enclosed with a front door entrance. As I walked the few steps onto the porch, I heard a clanking sound and turned to see the windmill in front of the house, its blades moving slowly with the slight breeze emitting an eerie sound in the otherwise quiet, desolate place. With trepidation, I turned around and knocked on the door.

A trim woman with short dark hair streaked by gray at the temples, opened the door. “Hello there. You must be Cynthia… Please come in.”

Leta held the door open as I walked into the hallway. She peered at me through dark-colored, horn-rimmed glasses, her eyes wary, as she escorted me to the living room.

We settled in upholstered chairs opposite each other. “Thank you, Mrs. Becker.”

“Leta,” she responded.

“Leta… I’ve been worried about you, wondering how you’ve been holding up.”

“Well, you should know. You’re the one who’s been writing about the case,” she said, crossing her arms.

Surprised by her terse response, I replied, “I have been writing about the case, of course, but I only know what the newspaper has been reporting.” I paused. “I don’t know, for instance, if you had any inkling that your husband had it in for Mrs. Schneider, and if so, why you didn’t tell the police.”

“Wait a minute… first off, my husband disappeared coincidentally at the same time Maggie was shot. That didn’t mean he was the one who killed her.”

I was a little taken aback by her vehement response. “Well, if he didn’t kill her, who did?”

She pursed her lips. 

After a few tense seconds, I said, “From what I’ve heard, people admired Maggie.”

“Well, they didn’t know her like I did.” Leta gasped. “What I mean is, she had her faults.”

I waited. “Were her faults serious enough that someone would kill her over them?”

Leta hesitated, then shook her head. “Nobody deserves to be murdered.”

“Tell me about your husband. Did he treat you well?”

“He never hit me, if that’s what you mean,” she said.

“That’s not what I meant. But it’s good to know he wasn’t physically violent.” I paused. “There are other ways for a wife to be mistreated though.” I waited and when Leta didn’t respond, I continued. “I was wondering why you never had any children.”

“That’s very personal.” She looked away.

“Maggie and Sam had no children either.”

She nodded. 

It was apparent Leta was not comfortable with this subject, so I decided to change it. “What do you think of the sheriff’s investigation?”

“It seems to me that finding a man on foot shouldn’t be that hard. It’s been two months since Amos went missing.”

“I agree. It seems very odd.” I hesitated. “And apparently, Sheriff Murphy thinks the cases are related. Maggie’s death and Amos’ disappearance… I certainly haven’t heard of any other suspects.”

“Patrick is like a dog with a bone.”

It was my turn to go silent. I gazed at Leta as she stared out the front window, her expression glum. Her face was devoid of makeup, except for lipstick, a pink shade that did nothing to help her sallow pallor. It was apparent she was not doing well, physically or emotionally. But what did I expect? I wanted to ask some more pointed questions, but it seemed cruel. Nevertheless, I was thinking—wives always know more than what they let on. I knew she knew more… especially about Amos and Maggie. A man doesn’t up and kill someone for no reason. I finally said, “Sheriff Murphy seems to think the shared water well may be the reason that Amos killed Maggie.”

Leta grimaced. “If Amos did kill Maggie… and that is a big IF, it may have been about the water well. She cared more about those damn turkeys than she did about us.” 

“But the well never went dry, from what I read.”

“And that was because of Amos. Had he not been in charge of the usage, I guarantee you that woman would have emptied it for sure.”

“But she didn’t deserve to be shot and killed over it, did she?”

Leta stood up. “I think it’s time for you to go, Cynthia.” 

I rose. “I’m sorry if I overstepped, Leta.”

She let out a big sigh as she walked me through the hallway to the front door. “I understand how strange this case is. But nobody has the right to judge me.”

I stopped and touched her arm. “Oh, my goodness, Leta. I certainly didn’t mean to come across as judgmental, especially towards you.”

“But you’re judging Amos and he’s my husband. You didn’t know him. He has demons that no one knows about. He couldn’t help what happened to him when he was a boy.”

And with that, she nudged me out of the house and slammed the door behind me.

*****

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Cynthia Leal Massey is a former corporate editor, college instructor, and magazine editor. She has published hundreds of magazine and newspaper articles, and several award-winning books. Cynthia holds a master’s degree in English from St. Mary’s University in San Antonio. A full-time writer, she is a past president of Women Writing the West and a member of Western Writers of America. Born and raised in San Antonio, Cynthia now lives in Helotes, Texas.

FB: @CLMBooksTX

Category: Interviews, On Writing