Murder Over Easy (A Trailer Park Mystery Book 2) Page 3

  “He sure is cute,” Mayrene said.

  Wanda Nell laughed. “And about twenty years younger’n you, too.”

  “And your point would be?” Mayrene said airily.

  “Never mind that,” Wanda Nell said. “I need to tell you what I saw. There ain’t no way Melvin killed Fayetta.” Quickly she described the horror of what she had seen. Even now, the violence of it made her stomach knot up.

  “Pretty damn vicious,” Mayrene said, her face paling as her hands tightly gripped the steering wheel. “And you don’t think Melvin could’ve done it?”

  “No, I don’t,” Wanda Nell said firmly. “For her to bleed that much, whoever done it must’ve stabbed her a bunch of times. Like in some kind of frenzy, I guess.” She shook her head. “I don’t think Melvin’d do something like that.”

  “You know him a lot better than I do,” Mayrene said, her tone dubious. “But sometimes a person snaps, and they do things you don’t think they would.”

  “I know that,” Wanda Nell acknowledged. “But I just don’t think Melvin cared that much about Fayetta to do something that deranged to her.”

  All of a sudden, tears started streaming down her face. She had been thinking of everything but Fayetta herself, and now it hit her. “Lord knows I hated that girl something awful,” Wanda Nell said shakily. “But to die like that. She was meaner’n any snake you ever wanted to see, but even she didn’t deserve this.” She clutched more Kleenex in her hand and dried her eyes.

  Mayrene reached over and patted her arm. “I know, honey,” she said. “And I wish now I hadn’t brought you here to see that. After what happened with Bobby Ray, you didn’t need to see something like that.”

  “No, I’ll be okay,” Wanda Nell insisted. “I had to know. Melvin told me a little about it but I had to see it for myself. And now I’ve seen it I’m going to have to do what I can to help Melvin. I don’t believe he did this, and he’s going to need help if Elmer Lee’s convinced he’s guilty.”

  “That’s for dang sure. He’s worse than an old bulldog when he gets ahold of something,” Mayrene agreed. She turned off the highway onto the lake road. They’d be back home in another two minutes.

  “Now, tell me about your date last night,” Wanda Nell said.

  Mayrene grinned at her. “Ain’t much to tell, except I will say that I think I got me a live one this time. He may seem real quiet, but you know what they say about them still waters. I think they may be running pretty deep.”

  That’s all she would say, and Wanda Nell didn’t press her further. Mayrene would divulge the details when she was ready.

  When they turned into the drive at the Kozy Kove Trailer Park, Wanda Nell could see TJ.’s brand new pickup parked in her parking space. She frowned. That pickup gave her a slight headache every time she saw it Old Mrs. Culpepper had bought it for TJ., and Wanda Nell hadn’t wanted her to do it.

  Mrs. Culpepper had argued that TJ. needed to be able to get around town cm his own and not to have to be dependent on anyone. She still insisted on driving herself around in her old Cadillac, scaring the life out of anyone foolish enough to get in her way. She also didn’t want to have to interrupt her schedule of bridge parties, gossip sessions, and church committee work to ferry her grandson back and forth to his part-time job and to visit his mother and sisters.

  Wanda Nell had given in. She’d worn herself to a frazzle, trying to argue with the old battle-ax, and she had to admit TJ. having a way to get around sure made things easier for her. But she still wished she could’ve bought that truck for him.

  “You wanna come over for a while, have some coffee, and visit with TJ.?” Wanda Nell asked before she opened the car door to get out.

  “Thanks, honey,” Mayrene said, “but I got some things I need to tend to.” She grinned as her car door clanged shut. “I reckon I’ve had about enough excitement for one day.”

  Wanda Nell felt guilty. “I’m sorry, Mayrene,” she said. “I know I shouldn’t get you into things like this.”

  “Now, you just stop right there, Wanda Nell,” Mayrene said, acting real stern. “I’m a big girl, and I know how to say no when I want to.” She grinned. “If I didn’t have me another hot date later this afternoon, I’d come on over and visit, But Mr. Padget is taking me over to Greenwood for a movie and dinner afterwards, and I got to get ready.”

  Wanda Nell grinned back at her. Then her eyes widened in surprise. “Mr. Padget? You mean the guy that works at the funeral home? That Mr. Padget?”

  “Yeah,” Mayrene said, her face taking on a slightly mulish look. “And what’s wrong with that?”

  “Uh, nothing,” Wanda Nell said, “nothing at all. I was just a bit surprised. He don’t seem like the kinda man you usually go for.”

  “Which would be?” Mayrene asked, one eyebrow arched.

  Wanda Nell almost blurted out what she was thinking, and that would rile Mayrene for sure. “Well, you usually like a man who’s got a bit of fire to him, and this Padget guy seems awfully cool and quiet the times I’ve seen him.”

  “Some fires are way down deep,” Mayrene drawled. “But they’re there, honey. They’re there.” Then she winked at Wanda Nell. “Just like those still waters.”

  Wanda Nell just shook her head. Mayrene talked awful big sometimes, and Wanda Nell didn’t know whether to believe her half the time. “Y’all have fun in Greenwood,” she said, giving a little wave as she headed for her trailer.

  “Oh, we will. I can guarantee that.” Mayrene’s teasing laughter rang in the hot afternoon air.

  Wanda Nell opened the door of her trailer to the happy squeals of her grandson. Lavon was bouncing up and down on TJ.’s leg as they played horsey on the couch. Wanda Nell watched for a moment leaning back against the door. She had a lump in her throat all of a sudden.

  “Hey, Mama,” TJ. said. “Look at this big oF cowboy I got on my leg. Can’t be ride real good?”

  “Gamma,” Lavon said between giggles.

  “Yeah, he rides real good,” Wanda Nell said as she sat beside TJ. on the sofa. “But I expect it’s about time for cowboys to be heading to the bunkhouse for a little nap. What do you think, Lavon?”

  TJ. stopped bouncing his leg and, still holding his hands, let Lavon slide down to the floor. Still giggling, Lavon got up and climbed into his grandmother’s lap. “Gamma nap,” he said.

  Wanda Nell smiled down at him. He was such a good child, nothing like his mother had been at this age. “Yes, baby, it’s nap time.” She stood up, Lavon in her arms. “TJ., you’re not going anywhere, are you? I hope you can stay awhile and visit.” She waited for TJ.’s nod, then headed off to the bedroom Lavon shared with his mother. “Just let me get this here cowboy settled, and I’ll be back.”

  Wanda Nell checked to make sure Lavon was dry, then put him in his crib. She crooned to him for a few minutes and, worn out by playing with his uncle, Lavon was soon sound asleep.

  TJ. was sitting in the kitchen, drinking a Coke out of the can. “Where’s Juliet?” Wanda Nell asked, retrieving a can for herself from the fridge.

  “She’s in her room, playing around with her computer,” TJ. said as his mother sat down at the table across from him. He held up a hand to forestall what he thought his mother was going to say. “I know you’re not real thrilled with the idea of Tuck giving Juliet and me computers, Mama, but please don’t make a big deal out of it.”

  “I wasn’t planning on making a big deal out of it,” Wanda Nell said mildly. “I appreciate what Tuck’s done for you, and for all of us. But I just don’t want anybody getting in the habit of thinking somebody’s gonna come along with handouts every time we need something.”

  TJ. grinned. “I know that. Otherwise I wouldn’t be working. I’d just let Grandma Culpepper foot the bill for everything.”

  Wanda Nell grimaced. The old witch had done far too much as it was.

  “Come on now, Mama,” TJ. said in a wheedling tone. “Just think of it like this. Think of all those years Grandma an
d Grandpa Culpepper didn’t give any of us Christmas presents or birthday presents. Think what all that would add up to.”

  Wanda Nell rolled her eyes at her son. There was some truth in what he said, since the elder Culpeppers had managed to ignore the existence of their grandchildren for many years, just because they despised her. Mrs. Culpepper was trying to make up for some of that, though she was going overboard where TJ. was concerned. He got far more from her than either of his sisters or his nephew did.

  “So what’s going on with Melvin?” TJ. asked. “You think he really killed Miz Sutton?”

  Wanda Nell shut her eyes for a moment, hoping to block out the vision of Fayetta’s bedroom. It didn’t work. “I don’t think he could do something that vicious,” she said. “Whoever killed her hated her something awful, and I just don’t think Melvin cared that much about her.”

  “And how do you know how vicious it was?” TJ. asked suspiciously. “What were you and Mayrene up to, Mama?”

  “I got Mayrene to go with me to Fayetta’s house.” Wanda Nell squirmed a bit in her seat. The tables were definitely turned, with her on the defensive for once. “And I had a look into Fayetta’s bedroom where it happened.”

  “Mama!” TJ.’s face darkened. “What do you mean, messing around in something like that? You’re lucky they didn’t haul you off to the sheriff’s department for poking around like that. Unless they didn’t catch you.”

  Wanda Nell squirmed some more.

  “They did catch you,” TJ. said flatly.

  “Yeah, there was a deputy on guard,” Wanda Nell said. “But he let us go. I told him I was coming by to check on Fayetta, pretending like I didn’t know what had happened. I don’t think he much believed me, but Mayrene had been flirting with him, so he didn’t fuss too much.” She blushed at the memory of what the deputy had actually said to her.

  “You were lucky,” TJ. said. “What do you think Mr. Johnson’s gonna say if he catches you nosing around another murder?”

  “I don’t give a flying flip what Elmer Lee Johnson thinks,” Wanda Nell said, annoyed. ‘That man’s not the boss of me, and if I want to help out a friend, he’s not going to stop me.”

  “Whoa, Mama,” TJ. said, holding up a hand. “I know you want to help Melvin, but you still got to be careful. You don’t know what you could be getting into. I mean, you said whoever killed Miz Sutton must’ve hated her. Do you think that person’s gonna like you poking your nose in?” He leaned forward. “Think about it, Mama. If Melvin didn’t do it, whoever did it’ll be pretty happy to have Melvin in jail for it. And if you go around messing things up, then the killer might come after you.”

  Wanda Nell sighed. “I know that TJ. I’m not a dimwit despite what Elmer Lee thinks. But I can’t just sit by and watch Melvin get railroaded for something I don’t think he did. I didn’t sit still and let you go to prison for killing your daddy, did I?”

  “No, Mama, you didn’t,” TJ. said, sighing heavily. “But that was a little bit different I’m your son. I’d do the same thing for you. We’re family. Bid Melvin’s not. He’s just some guy you work for.”

  “Yeah, I work for him,” Wanda Nell said, trying—and failing—to keep her temper under control. “He’s been a damn good friend to me many a time. And if it wasn’t for him, a certain Mr. Thaddeus James Culpepper the second wouldn’t’ve got his sorry ass bailed out of jail a couple of times.” She paused for a deep breath. “Your daddy and your sainted grandma sure as hell weren’t gonna come up with the money, and I had no one else to turn to. Melvin helped me out when nobody else would—or could.”

  TJ. flushed a deep red. “Lord, Mama, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I never even thought about the money. One of these days maybe I’ll be able to pay you back.”

  Her anger spent, Wanda Nell reached across the table to pat her son’s hand. “I don’t want the money back, TJ. I did what I did because you’re my son and I love you. I’d do it again if I had to, but I don’t expect I’ll have to. But at least you ought to understand why I feel like I should help Melvin when he needs me.”

  “I do,” TJ. said, but he didn’t sound any too sure. “But you’ve got to be careful, Mama.”

  “Careful about what?” Juliet padded into the kitchen in her bare feet, so quietly that neither TJ. nor Wanda Nell had heard her.

  “Oh, about working so much,” Wanda Nell said, hating to lie to her daughter, but not wanting her to be burdened any more than she had to be.

  Juliet eyed her mother suspiciously. “Uh-huh, and I’m gonna be homecoming queen this year, too.”

  “Never you mind your smart mouth, missy,” Wanda Nell said, attempting to make light of it. “Besides, you’re pretty enough to be homecoming queen, and don’t you think any different.”

  “Mama’s right about that, Bug,” TJ. said, using the nickname guaranteed to annoy his baby sister.

  “Honestly,” Juliet said. She went to the fridge and extracted a can of Diet Coke. “You people need to go to the eye doctor and get some glasses.” Tossing her shoulder-length blonde hair, she stalked out of the kitchen and back to her bedroom.

  “You’re not gonna be able to keep Juliet from knowing about this, Mama,” TJ. said. “Especially if you get yourself mixed up in it.”

  “Then I’ll deal with that when I have to,” Wanda Nell snapped. She got up to throw her empty can into the garbage bin under the sink.

  Glancing out the window, she saw a car pulling into the parking space behind TJ.’s truck. As she watched, Tuck Tucker climbed out of his late-model Mercedes and walked up to the door.

  “Go let Tuck in,” Wanda Nell instructed her son. TJ. got to his feet and hurried through the living room to the door. Wanda Nell followed slowly.

  Catching sight of Wanda Nell, Hamilton “Tuck” Tucker took his hand off TJ.’s shoulder, where it had been resting lightly. “Afternoon, Wanda Nell,” he said, coming forward to offer his hand. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping by like this, but I thought I ought to let you know what’s going on.”

  A year or two over thirty. Tuck was as tall and dark as TJ. but even more handsome, Wanda Nell thought, and her son was no slouch. Like TJ., Tuck wore jeans and black cowboy boots that emphasized his lean, muscular frame, but Tuck’s shirt and sport coat were made of silk. TJ.’s shirt was simple cotton.

  “Thanks, Tuck,” Wanda Nell said, releasing his hand. “I appreciate that. Let’s sit down.” She motioned toward the couch and two chairs. “Can I get you something to drink?’

  ’ “No, I’m fine,” Tuck said, waiting until Wanda Nell was seated in one of the chairs before sitting down on the couch next to TJ. “Now, ordinarily I wouldn’t be talking to anyone about some of this, because of attorney-client privilege. But Melvin particularly wanted me to talk to you, Wanda Nell, and let you know what’s going on.” He smiled briefly. “He has more faith in you, I think, than he does in me.”

  Wanda Nell didn’t quite know what to make of that. Was Tuck teasing her? He didn’t sound mad, at least.

  She cleared her throat. “I guess he figures I’m going to meddle anyway, and I can maybe get away with things you can’t, Tuck.”

  Tuck laughed. “I expect so. Frankly, I’ll take all the help I can get on this one.” His tone had darkened.

  “Is it that bad?” Wanda Nell asked, her heart sinking.

  Nodding, Tuck said, “Yes. It’s pretty bad.”

  Before he could continue, TJ. spoke. “Mama’s already been to Miz Sutton’s house to have a look-see.” He frowned at Wanda Nell.

  Wanda Nell shot him a look. “Yeah, I did. I had to see for myself.”

  Tuck didn’t comment, other than to say, “Then you know how bad it was.” He leaned back on the couch, his knee brushing against TJ.’s. “But the worst thing is the murder weapon.”

  “What was it?” Wanda Nell asked, suddenly afraid to hear the answer.

  “A knife that came from the Kountry Kitchen,” Tuck said. “Melvin identified it himself.”

 
Chapter 4

  Wanda Nell blanched. She bet she knew which knife it was, and she felt like throwing up.

  “Mama, you okay? You want something to drink? Some water?”

  Glancing up, Wanda Nell saw TJ. bent over her, concern in his face. Slowly, she shook her head. “No, I’m okay. Just give me a minute.”

  “Sorry, Wanda Nell,” Tuck said as TJ. sat down beside him again.

  “Not your fault,” she said. “I’m okay.” As long as I can keep that awful picture out of my head, she thought.

  The two men eyed her doubtfully, but neither one said anything more until she had regained her composure.

  “That makes it look pretty bad for Melvin,” Wanda Nell stated.

  “It does,” Tuck agreed. “But until they get a report back from the state crime lab on the knife, we won’t know if there’s any other link to Melvin. I can think of several reasons why the knife could’ve been in the victim’s house without Melvin bringing it there himself.”

  “One of them being,” Wanda Nell spoke bitterly, “that Fayetta Sutton was liable to help herself to whatever she wanted, even if it belonged to someone else.”

  “You didn’t like her.” Tuck made it a statement rather than a question.

  “No, I didn’t,” Wanda Nell said, “and I had plenty reasons not to. She was conniving and two-faced, and those were her good points.” Then she felt ashamed of herself, talking about the woman this way after she’d been brutally killed.

  “De mortuis nil nisi bonum,” Tuck said, then grinned wryly when Wanda Nell and T.J. stared blankly at him. “Sorry, just a quotation. You can blame all the Latin I studied in high school. Basically, it means, ‘Don’t say anything but good about the dead.’ ”

  “Then I doubt anybody’d have much to say about Miz Sutton,” TJ. said smartly. “From what I’ve heard,” he added hastily after getting a sharp look from his mother.

  “No point in fiddle-farting around,” Wanda Nell said, ignoring the two grinning men. “You know what I mean. I’m sorry it happened to her. As much as I despised her, I wouldn’t’ve wished that on her. But trying to whitewash her now won’t help Melvin none.”