Flamingo Fatale (A Trailer Park Mystery Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Wanda Nell's Favorite Recipes

  Discover More by this Author

  About the Author

  Copyright

  This ebook is licensed to you for your personal enjoyment only.

  This ebook may not be sold, shared, or given away.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Flamingo Fatale

  Copyright © 2005 by Dean James

  Ebook ISBN: 9781641970020

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  NYLA Publishing

  350 7th Avenue, Suite 2003, NY 10001, New York.

  http://www.nyliterary.com

  Dedication

  For Carolyn Haines, whose support and encouragement have made a tremendous amount of difference.

  <

  One who never turned his back but marched breast forward,

  Never doubted clouds would break,

  Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph,

  Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better,

  Sleep to wake.

  —Robert Browning, Epilogue to Asolando

  Acknowledgments

  First thanks must go to my agent, the irrepressible Nancy Yost, who asked the important question, “Why hasn’t anyone written a trailer park detective?” This book is the result, and I can’t thank Nancy enough for the inspiration.

  Natalee Rosenstein, my editor at Berkley for over a decade, has been unfailingly patient, encouraging, and supportive, and I owe her tremendous thanks for the many opportunities she has given me. Thanks also to her former assistant, Esther Strauss, for patiently answering my questions. It’s a great pleasure being part of the Berkley Prime Crime family.

  My uncle the judge, Henry Lackey, cheerfully and helpfully answers my questions about legal procedure in Mississippi. Any errors are mine, not his!

  My very dear friends Tejas Englesmith (thanks for the flamingos!), Julie Wray Herman, and Patricia Orr have never flagged in their support, and having their broad shoulders to lean on sustains me each and every day.

  Chapter 1

  Wanda Nell Culpepper set the pot of hot coffee down so she wouldn’t be tempted to throw it right in Fayetta Sutton’s face. It would have been a pleasure to wipe away that nasty smirk and hear her howl like the witch she was, but Wanda Nell just couldn’t do it. Now, if her best friend Mayrene Lancaster had been there, she would have grabbed the pot out of Wanda Nell’s hand and done it for her. But Mayrene was at home, getting ready for a hot date.

  Wanda Nell looked Fayetta straight in the face and lied. “I couldn’t care less if Bobby Ray Culpepper has dragged his sorry behind all the way back here to Tullahoma. The day I divorced that loser was the best day of my life.”

  “It sure was the best day of his life,” Fayetta cooed, as she pretended to wipe down the counter. She and Bobby Ray had been hot and heavy at one point, and she still acted like he couldn’t get enough of her whenever he came back to town. “He musta gotten awful tired of such a tight-assed woman.”

  “Why, Fayetta,” Wanda Nell said, her voice sweet as sugar icing, “I had no idea. You know a good dose of Ex-lax will fix you right up.” She turned and walked away, smiling a little at the sniggers from a couple of the bubbas sitting at the counter.

  “She done got you good, Fayetta,” said Junior Farley. He was laughing so hard his big belly must have been shaking like Jell-O in an earthquake, but Wanda Nell didn’t turn around to look. She just kept walking.

  She went around the edge of the counter and on into the back dining room. The crowd tonight had been sparse, and she had only a couple of tables left back there. One table wanted their tea glasses topped up and a to-go box. By the time Wanda Nell had taken care of them, she had cooled off and was fussing at herself for letting Fayetta get to her. That heifer delighted in needling her, and Wanda Nell resolved, for the thousandth time, that she wasn’t going to fall into the trap ever again.

  Wanda Nell eyed her other customer. He had been sitting there for going on three hours now, most of the time just staring off into space. Every once in a while he stopped and scribbled something on a notepad. He had long since finished his dinner, and Wanda Nell had approached him a few times to refill his tea glass. He was so caught up in what he was thinking about he hardly noticed her, so she attended to his tea and left him in peace.

  Now, as she watched, he put his pen down with a sigh and stared at his empty glass. Picking up the pitcher, Wanda Nell walked over to his table. “Another refill?” she asked, trying not to grin.

  He pushed his glasses up his nose as he focused on her. “Oh, no thank you, I guess I’ve had enough by now.” He looked at his watch. “Guess I also lost track of time. Y’all must be getting ready to close soon.”

  “You’ve got a while yet,” Wanda Nell assured him, staring at him as discreetly as she could. She knew who he was, though she wasn’t certain whether he remembered her. His name was Jack Pemberton, and he was her daughter Juliet’s English teacher at Tullahoma County High School.

  “Thanks,” he said. Then he smiled shyly, and Wanda Nell couldn’t help but smile back. He was so cute, in a professory kind of way, with his round, rimless glasses, boyish, brown locks hanging down across his forehead, and thin, intelligent face. He was also about Wanda Nell’s age, fortyish, and his wedding-ring finger was bare.

  “You’re Juliet Culpepper’s mother, aren’t you?” Jack Pemberton said, still smiling.

  “Yes.” Wanda Nell’s smile widened. Her youngest child was the light of her life. “Wanda Nell Culpepper,” she said. “I met you back in the fall at one of those parent-teacher nights.”

  “I remember,” Jack Pemberton said, and the tone of his voice warmed Wanda Nell for a moment. He sure had nice eyes, she thought.

  “Jack Pemberton,” he said, standing up and offering her his hand. Wanda Nell took it and enjoyed the warmth of it as he clasped her hand.

  “I remember,” Wanda Nell said, “and Juliet wouldn’t let me forget, that’s for sure. Now, don’t you dare tell her I told you this, but she’s always talking about what Mr. Pemberton says. You get quoted a lot around our house.”

  Jack Pemberton stood awkwardly, a light flush rising in his cheeks. “Juliet is my best student, Mrs. Culpepper. I wish I had a hundred more like her.”

  “Thank you,” Wanda Nell said, a little flustered by his earnestness. She pulled his check out of her uniform pocket and put it, on the table.

  Almost absentmindedly, he picked it up. “Guess I’d better be going,” he said. “This was my first time to eat here in the evening. I’m still finding my way around Tullahoma.”
He paused. “It was very good.”

  “Thank you,” Wanda Nell said, waiting. He couldn’t seem to make up his mind to start walking toward the front of the restaurant or to say something else.

  “Nice to see you again,” Pemberton said, his legs finally working and moving him away from the table. He was a few paces away when he paused and looked back for a moment. “I guess I might start eating here more often.” He gave her a nervous smile, then almost ran toward the cash register.

  Turning away to hide a pleased grin, Wanda Nell bent over and began to clear the table. He had left her a big tip, she was glad to see. He was a bit on the shy side, but he sure was nice. She wouldn’t mind seeing him again. Humming a little, she finished with the table.

  Glancing at her watch, she saw it was a few minutes past nine now, and the Kountry Kitchen closed at ten. Business had been so slow tonight, maybe Melvin would let her leave a little early. That way she’d have time to run home, check on the girls and the baby, and have a quick shower before she had to clock in at Budget Mart. She needed something to perk her up, and she reckoned a shower would just about do it.

  Wanda Nell cleared her last two tables in the front dining room, gratefully sliding the generous tips into her pocket. She was trying to make an extra payment every other month on the trailer, and she was getting close to having enough for one.

  When Wanda Nell finished, Fayetta was near the cash register, talking to one of the good of boys who hung around her like flies around a cow patty. Wanda Nell couldn’t repress a grin at the image. She pushed through the door into the kitchen and looked around for Melvin.

  “Out back smoking,” said Elray, the dishwasher, jerking his dark head to one side.

  “Thanks, Elray,” Wanda Nell said. After waving at Lurene, the cook, she grabbed a bit of fried chicken off a plate, wrapped it in a napkin, and stuffed it in her pocket

  She walked down the short hall to the back door of the restaurant and stopped in the open doorway, sniffing appreciatively. Ever since the baby came, she had given up smoking, and it was dam hard not to backslide. When she was around other smokers, she enjoyed every minute, getting a little buzz from the secondhand smoke.

  Before she could say anything, she felt the brush of some-thing warm and smooth against her legs. She bent down and rubbed the stray cat on the head. “Hey, there, fella, how are you tonight?” She pulled the chicken from her pocket and started tearing it apart for the cat, now almost dancing with excitement at her feet.

  Melvin Arbuckle turned to watch her and the cat. “Why don’t you just take him on home with you, ’stead of keeping him hanging around the back door all the time?”

  “I guess one of these days I will,” Wanda Nell said, sighing. Strays always seemed to find her, but she didn’t need one more body dependent on her at the moment. Maybe if she held out a little longer she could find somebody to adopt this little guy. Once he realized there was no more chicken he trotted off into the bushes a few feet away.

  “Slow night, wasn’t it?” Melvin said, watching her through the smoke drifting from his nose and mouth.

  “Yeah,” said Wanda Nell, leaning up against the door frame and gazing up into the night sky. The April breeze was soft and cool on this beautiful evening, and she let the calmness wash over her.

  “Reckon you wanna leave early and run home.”

  “Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

  Melvin shrugged. “Don’t matter to me none, but Fayetta ain’t gonna thank you for having to close up.”

  “Uh-huh,” Wanda Nell said. “Like she won’t be all over you, rubbing up against you like a cat in heat the whole time.” She kept her tone light.

  Melvin grinned as the smoke drifted out of his nose. “Girl’s gotta have something to compensate her for you bailing out.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” Wanda Nell said. “That girl goes after anything in pants that even looks like it’s male.” She shook her head. “Why you put up with her carrying on, I’ll never know.”

  “Since you won’t have nothing to do with me,” Melvin said, his voice taking on a slight edge, “I don’t think you need to be worrying about who I take up with.”

  Wanda Nell tensed. Now was not the time to get into that old argument again. Melvin was a good-looking man, and a lot of women in Tullahoma would have been downright happy to go with him. Wanda Nell liked him, and he had always been a good friend to her. That was just the point—no use letting sex get in the way between them.

  “We’ve been over this before, Melvin,” she said, trying to keep an edge out of her voice.

  “I know, I know,” Melvin said with resignation. He turned and flicked his cigarette butt through the air and into the Dumpster.

  “You’re gonna set that thing on fire one of these days,” Wanda Nell said.

  Melvin just grunted, his back still to her. She almost reached out to touch him but held back.

  “So you don’t mind if I head on out?”

  “Naw,” Melvin said without turning. “Get on outta here, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Melvin,” she said. “I appreciate it.”

  Before her boss could change his mind, Wanda Nell grabbed her purse out of the small storeroom where she stashed it and her change of clothes. Melvin had gone back into the kitchen, so she left by the back door. Melvin could explain to Fayetta that she had left.

  As she unlocked the door to her dusty red Cavalier, she glanced around the parking lot. Only a few cars were left, and the streets around the restaurant were quiet. Not much action this late on a Wednesday night in Tullahoma, Mississippi. Wanda Nell nosed the car out onto the highway and headed east toward the lake.

  One good thing about a small town like Tullahoma, she reflected, was that, even though it had grown a lot in recent years because of several new factories, it still took only about ten minutes to get from one end of town to the other in any direction.

  Three minutes later she turned off the highway onto the reservoir road and wound her way through the gentle hills for nearly two miles before reaching the turnoff for the Kozy Kove Trailer Park. Wanda Nell had lived there for five years, and she liked the trailer park’s proximity to the beach at the lake. She also enjoyed the woods around the trailer park, because she could step out of her front door and only a few strides later be out under the trees. Whenever she needed a quiet moment, she went for a walk in the woods. And lately, with the baby so active and Miranda being so difficult, she needed those walks even more. The silence and solitude of the woods helped her make it through the long, tiring days when it seemed like everybody she knew needed something from her.

  Wanda Nell sighed heavily as she pulled her car into the little carport attached to her double-wide trailer. Juliet’s light was still on, even though it was a school night and she was supposed to be in bed at nine. She was reading, Wanda Nell guessed as she heaved herself and purse and clothes from the car. She didn’t have the heart to fuss at her, because Juliet was such a bright girl. She was the one who was really going to make something of herself. Wanda Nell held tight to that thought. The light went off as she watched.

  She walked around the car toward the front door of the trailer, and as she got closer she could hear music and laughter coming from inside. She frowned. She hoped it was just Miranda listening to the TV, and not some no-account boy she had invited over.

  Miranda’s high-pitched giggle hit her as she opened the door. She stood there, angry and startled, though she realized she shouldn’t be in the least surprised.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Bobby Ray?” she said, stepping inside and pulling the door shut with a thump. She did not need this. She was tired, and she still had her shift at Budget Mart to get through. She did not need to hassle with her ex-husband right now.

  Bobby Ray Culpepper’s lazy, sexy grin taunted her as he stood up from the couch, where he had been sitting with his middle child. “Hey there, Sugar Booger.” He knew how Wanda Nell detested that particular endearme
nt. “You know I had to come by and see my girls and my new grandbaby.”

  “Well, I hope to god Lavon is in his crib and asleep by now,” Wanda Nell said, fixing Miranda with a stare. Her daughter squirmed a little and refused to meet her eyes.

  “Now, don’t go picking on Randa the minute you walk in the door,” Bobby Ray said, his voice jovial. “I just know she’s a good little mother.”

  Suppressing the urge to ask him how the hell he would know, this being the first time he had been around since Lavon had entered the world fourteen months ago, Wanda Nell ignored him. Her eyes swept around the living room, and as she had expected, Miranda hadn’t lifted a finger all afternoon to do the cleaning she had been told to do. How she had raised such a slob for a daughter, Wanda Nell didn’t know. She was getting real tired of trying to make Miranda pitch in and help, instead of letting her mother and sister do everything around the house.

  Miranda rightly interpreted the annoyed look on her mother’s face. “I fell asleep this afternoon, Mama,” she whined. “Lavon just about wore me out last night, and I was so tired I couldn’t do anything but lay here on the couch.” She brightened. “And then Daddy showed up a little while ago, and we’ve been talking.”

  Miranda always had some excuse as to why she couldn’t get even the simplest job done. Wanda Nell had threatened more than once to kick her and the baby out of the trailer, but it hadn’t done any good. Miranda knew her mama was too softhearted to do such a mean thing.

  “I promise I’ll clean up tomorrow,” Miranda said.

  Wanda Nell sighed, tired of the fuss and bother Miranda created. Miranda’s promises were about as reliable as her father’s. She was Bobby Ray all over again, and that was not a good thing.

  But, thank the Lord, she wasn’t as bad as her older brother. Wanda Nell had no idea where T.J. was at the moment, but no doubt he was in some kind of trouble. Miranda at least she could keep an eye on.