Best Served Cold (A Trailer Park Mystery Book 3) Page 9

  Chapter 9

  Even after knowing the woman twenty-some-odd years, Wanda Nell still had trouble dealing with Lucretia Culpepper, her ex-mother-in-law. They had managed to get along a little better since the death of Bobby Ray Culpepper, Wanda Nell’s ex-husband and Lucretia’s son, but that was mostly on account of T.J. Old Mrs. Culpepper thought the sun rose and shone where her grandson was concerned, maybe because he was the spitting image of his father in his early twenties.

  Lately, though, Mrs. Culpepper had become increasingly critical of T.J., mostly because he refused to date the young women Mrs. Culpepper was always pushing in front of him. Though T.J. had come out to his mother and his sisters and a few friends, he had yet to tell his grandmother that he was gay. He was living in her house, helping take care of her, so T.J. kept putting off telling his grandmother the truth about himself. He was afraid she would react badly, and he worried about upsetting her too much.

  Wanda Nell had given T.J. a good talking-to about being up front with his grandmother, but he just kept saying he would do it as soon as the right time presented itself. Wanda Nell kept assuring him that his grandmother adored him, and though she might be shocked at first, she would soon come around.

  Old Mrs. Culpepper was pretty sharp, at least when she wasn’t hitting the Jack Daniel’s too hard, and Wanda Nell halfway suspected the old woman knew perfectly well T.J. wasn’t interested in girls. She was probably pushing the girls at him for some strange reason of her own. Maybe because she was downright mean sometimes.

  Wanda Nell pulled up in front of the antebellum mansion on Main Street that generations of Culpeppers had called home. A strange car at least twenty years old sat in the driveway, and Wanda Nell remained in her car for a few minutes, trying to decide whether to go in or just go home. If Mrs. Culpepper had company, Wanda Nell might not be able to get her to talk about the Campbell family, the reason for her visit.

  Finally deciding she might as well go in, Wanda Nell got out of her car and proceeded up the walk to the front door. She rang the bell, then peered through the beveled glass on one side of the door. After a moment, she could see a blur approaching her, and she stood back. The door swung open, and Wanda Nell stared into a face that was vaguely familiar.

  “Howdy, there,” the woman said, her voice high-pitched and nasal. “You come to see Lucretia?”

  Wanda Nell eyed her, trying to tie down the elusive memory. The woman in front of her, about her own height, could have been anywhere from forty to sixty. Mousy brown hair, lightly sprinkled with gray, framed a round, florid face. A dusting of brown hair spread across her top lip, and a couple of long hairs jutted out from her chin. Fascinated, Wanda Nell for a moment found herself unable to tear her eyes away from the chin hair.

  “You deaf or something?”

  Startled, Wanda Nell found her voice. “No, sorry, I guess I was just thinking about something. Yes, I’m here to see Miz Culpepper. I’m Wanda Nell Culpepper.” She paused a moment as recognition dawned in the other woman’s eyes. “Haven’t I met you before?”

  “Well, shore enough you have, honey,” the woman said, standing back and motioning Wanda Nell into the hall. “I’m Lucretia’s cousin, Belle Meriwether. It’s been a long time since I seen you, so I don’t mind much you not remembering who I am.”

  Wanda Nell caught a faint whiff of violets as she stepped past Belle Meriwether into the hall. Despite the lack of attention to her face, Belle was neatly attired in a cotton dress that had probably been new around 1955. “Now, you just come on in here with me and Lucretia,” Belle said, leading the way into the front parlor. “I drove over this morning from Coffeeville to visit, seeing as how me and Lucretia ain’t had a good visit in a couple of years.”

  Wanda Nell followed Belle into the parlor where they found Mrs. Culpepper seated in her customary place. Wanda Nell examined her as closely as she dared for signs that the old woman had been drinking, and she was relieved to find none. Mrs. Culpepper’s eyes were clear and bright, and she was clean and dressed smartly, her hair showing signs of a very recent trip to the beauty shop.

  “Lucretia honey, look who stopped by to see you,” Belle announced. She plopped herself down on the sofa near her cousin.

  “Afternoon, Miz Culpepper,” Wanda Nell said.

  Mrs. Culpepper looked up at her former daughter-in- law. “And what brings you here, Wanda Nell? You don’t usually turn up here unless you’re invited to, and even then you hardly come.” She waved a hand toward a chair. “Might as well sit down, seeing as you’re here.”

  “Thank you,” Wanda Nell said. She took the seat indicated and set her purse on the floor beside her. “How have you been, Miz Culpepper? You’re looking mighty well today.”

  “Thank you,” the old woman said tartly. “I’m glad you approve. I wasn’t really expecting all this company today. First, Belle here turning up out the blue, and now you. I guess it’s lucky I decided when I got up this morning that I was going to dress for company. My nose was itching when I got up, and for once my nose was right. Company did come.”

  “Now ain’t that a funny thing,” Belle said. “You know, my nose itches like that whenever somebody’s going to show up at my door. I mean, every day, just before the mail carrier makes it to my front door, I start feeling like I’m going to sneeze. And then a minute or two later, there he is at my door. Isn’t that something?” She turned toward Wanda Nell, an expectant look on her face.

  “You’re probably just allergic to that old cat of yours,” Mrs. Culpepper said before Wanda Nell could respond. “I keep telling you you ought to get rid of that nasty thing. What you want with a cat in the house, I’ll never know. My mother never would allow a cat in the house, or a dog either.”

  “Your mama was the most house-proud woman I ever did know,” Belle said, turning back to her cousin. “Even when she got to where she couldn’t walk around the house and do anything, she made sure that colored girl of hers cleaned everything real nice all the time. You could just about eat off the floor in her house.”

  “Why on earth would anybody want to eat off the floor?” Mrs. Culpepper’s voice dripped acid. “That’s about the stupidest thing I ever heard, Belle, but coming from you, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Your mama didn’t know how to keep house to save her life.”

  “Well, that sure is true, Lucretia,” Belle said, wagging her head up and down. Wanda Nell would have been furious if someone had insulted her and her mother like that, but Belle appeared to be pretty thick-skinned. “My mama was a saint, and lord knows she had to be, what with my daddy running around on her the way he did, but she didn’t know much about keeping a clean house. Maybe that was why Daddy was the way he was.” She shook her head dolefully. “I reckon I learned everything I know about keeping house from your mama, Lucretia, God bless her.”

  “Would you like some iced tea, Wanda Nell?” Mrs. Culpepper stared hard at her, and Wanda Nell realized she had better say she did.

  “That sure would be nice, Miz Culpepper,” Wanda Nell said, and the old woman nodded her approval.

  “Belle, you get on out to the kitchen and fix Wanda Nell some iced tea.” Mrs. Culpepper waved her hand at her cousin.

  “I’d be glad to,” Belle said, getting to her feet. “Would you like some, too?”

  “Might as well,” Mrs. Culpepper said. “Now, take your time. Don’t hurry. I’m sure Wanda Nell will manage till you come back with it.”

  “Won’t be a minute,” Belle said, ambling out of the parlor.

  Mrs. Culpepper sat back in her chair with a deep sigh. “Lord, that woman could talk the horns off a billy goat. It wouldn’t be so bad if she actually had something to say, but she just goes on and on about nothing.”

  “I remember her now,” Wanda Nell said, and indeed she did. In particular, she remembered one Christmas when T.J. and Miranda were small, Belle had come to stay for the holidays with her cousin. Belle had cornered her in the kitchen on Christmas Day and subjected her to a history of
her family and how many of them seemed to die around holidays. Wanda Nell had dearly wanted to see another of them expire, and right then, before she finally managed to get away from Belle.

  “She’ll be back way too soon,” Mrs. Culpepper said, “so you’d best get on with telling me why you’re here and what you want. If it’s money for something, you can forget that. I don’t have any extra to spend after buying T.J. that truck of his.”

  The old woman delighted in making her lose her temper, Wanda Nell knew, and she was bound and determined not to do it, no matter how sorely tried she was. She smiled sweetly, “Now, Miz Culpepper, I don’t need any money. I just wanted to talk to you for a few minutes.”

  “About what?”

  “You know everybody worth knowing in Tullahoma,” Wanda Nell said, “and I thought you could maybe help me with a little information.” She paused for a moment to gauge the old woman’s reaction.

  Mrs. Culpepper snorted. “You can butter me up all you want to, Wanda Nell, but you might as well save your breath. Just get to the point.”

  Her right hand curling into a ball in her lap, Wanda Nell smiled at Mrs. Culpepper. “Did you hear about the murder?”

  Mrs. Culpepper sat forward in her chair, her eyes suddenly alight with interest. “Are you talking about Reggie Campbell? Of course I heard about it. By now I’m sure everyone in town has heard about it.”

  “Probably,” Wanda Nell said. “What have you heard? I mean, have you heard anybody talking about who did it?”

  “That boy was no good,” Mrs. Culpepper said. “I’ve known his poor mother just about all my life, and how she came to raise a boy like that, I’ll never know. She’s a good Christian woman, and that Reggie was nothing but a heathen.”

  Wanda Nell nodded encouragement, but Mrs. Culpepper scarcely needed it. “I can think of about five men, right off the bat, who could have killed him, and nobody would blame them. The way that Reggie treated women, it’s a wonder somebody hadn’t killed him long before now.”

  “Like who?” Wanda Nell asked. She realized her mistake, though, as soon as she spoke.

  “Why do you want to know?” Mrs. Culpepper said. “Nobody needs to drag the names of the poor women through the mud, and I can’t see it’s any business of yours.”

  Wanda Nell despised the suddenly pious tone of the old woman’s voice. If anyone else had asked her, the witch would have been talking a mile a minute.

  “I’m trying to keep an innocent man from being blamed for it,” Wanda Nell said.

  “Who?”

  “My brother.”

  “What’s he doing back in town?” Mrs. Culpepper frowned. “Nobody told me about that.”

  Wanda Nell was relieved to hear it. If Mrs. Culpepper hadn’t heard that Rusty could be involved, it meant the sheriff’s department was probably keeping an open mind and their mouths shut.

  “He came back for a visit,” Wanda Nell said, “and one of the people he was visiting with was Reggie Campbell.”

  “And now somebody thinks maybe he did it,” Mrs. Culpepper stated.

  Wanda Nell nodded reluctantly.

  “Why would he kill somebody he hasn’t seen in years? I thought your brother hadn’t been around Tullahoma for a long time.”

  “He hasn’t been,” Wanda Nell said, “but he just came back for a visit.”

  “It seems mighty odd, your brother comes back for the first time in a long time, and suddenly somebody murders Reggie Campbell.” Mrs. Culpepper regarded her maliciously.

  “My brother didn’t kill anybody,” Wanda Nell said, hoping her voice carried conviction. “But he may need help proving it.” She didn’t want to tell the old woman that Rusty had disappeared, but there might not be any way around it.

  “Seems to me that maybe your brother used to run around with Reggie Campbell a long time ago.”

  Wanda Nell shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t really remember Rusty being friends with him. Reggie was in the same class in school, but that’s about all.”

  “I’m sure I heard something,” Mrs. Culpepper said stubbornly. “I can’t think what it is at the moment, but it’ll come back to me at some point.”

  “I’d appreciate hearing it, whatever it is,” Wanda Nell said. She paused a moment. She had debated this next move, but she didn’t have much choice. “Have you ever heard anything about Bert Vines, you know, the insurance man, or Scott Simpson, the football coach at the high school?”

  Mrs. Culpepper didn’t reply for a moment. “I remember Bobby Ray didn’t have much use for them, back when he was in high school. He used to laugh and say they weren’t nearly as tough as they thought they were.” She paused. “But maybe he was talking about Tony Campbell, Reggie’s brother. Seems to me that Tony got into trouble a time or two.”

  Wanda Nell waited.

  Mrs. Culpepper nodded. “Tony got a couple of girls in trouble when he was in high school, at least that’s what I heard, but he sure didn’t marry either one of them. I guess they must have had it taken care of somehow.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “And now Tony’s married a girl just about young enough to be his own daughter. That’s disgusting. I wouldn’t let a daughter of mine marry a man like that”

  “Well, you never had a daughter, now did you, Lucretia?” Belle came waddling back into the parlor, carrying a tray with a pitcher of iced tea and three glasses. She set it down on the table next to Mrs. Culpepper’s chair. “I guess you could call Wanda Nell here your daughter, because she was married to your son. But then she divorced him, didn’t she? So I guess she’s not like your daughter after all.”

  “What are you going on about now?” Mrs. Culpepper scowled up at Belle. “Just pour out the tea and stop babbling. Wanda Nell is the mother of my three grandchildren, as you very well know. She and Bobby Ray may have gotten a divorce, but I reckon she’s still a member of the family in a way.”

  Wanda Nell sat open-mouthed. Satan ought to be selling ice cubes about now. That was the only explanation she could come up with to explain what Mrs. Culpepper had just said.

  “Are you trying to catch a fly?” Mrs. Culpepper turned her scowl on Wanda Nell. “Close your mouth, girl, you look plumb stupid sitting there. Somebody might mistake you for Belle if you’re not careful.”

  Belle handed Wanda Nell a glass of tea, giggling. “Now, Lucretia, the way you do talk. Nobody could ever mistake Wanda Nell for me. She’s blond, and she sure is pretty. You just take a real good look at her.”

  Blushing, Wanda Nell sipped at her tea as the other two women bickered back and forth for a moment. As she listened, she was struck by an idea that might help T.J. solve his worries about his grandmother. She’d have to think about it a bit more, but as she watched Mrs. Culpepper and Belle, she became more and more convinced it might work.

  Finally, Mrs. Culpepper turned her attention back to Wanda Nell. “Now, what were we talking about? Oh yes, the Campbells.”

  “Can you think of anything else?” Wanda Nell kept her question vague.

  Mrs. Culpepper shook her head. “Not at the moment, but I’ll keep mulling it over. Maybe something else will come to me.”

  Wanda Nell stood up, tea glass in hand. As she gave the nearly empty glass to Belle, she heard the muted tones of her cell phone ringing in her purse. “Excuse me,” she said, and she reached hastily for her purse.

  “I’ve been thinking about getting me one of them cell phones,” Belle said as she watched Wanda Nell open hers up to answer it. “Aren’t they just the cutest things?”

  Mrs. Culpepper snorted loudly. “What would a fool like you need with a cell phone? You’d never figure out how to work it, for one thing.”

  Wanda Nell tuned them out as she answered the call. It was coming from her home phone, and as always when she got a call from home, she felt a little flutter of worry in her stomach.

  “Hello,” she said.

  Before she could say another word, Miranda’s voice spoke frantically in her ear. “Mama, somebody’s trying to ge
t in the trailer!”

  Chapter 10

  Wanda Nell stopped breathing. Miranda’s terrified words echoed in her brain.

  She found her voice. “Miranda. Listen to me, I want you to scream as loud as you can. Do it!”

  Wanda Nell heard a sudden intake of breath on the other end of the line. Then she jerked the cell phone away from her ear as Miranda’s scream tore at her eardrum.

  “Lord have mercy!” Belle almost jumped off the sofa.

  “What’s going on?” Mrs. Culpepper demanded at the same time.

  Wanda Nell waved a hand at them, and they subsided.

  The screams stopped, and Wanda Nell put the cell phone to her ear. “Miranda, can you hear me?”

  “Yes, Mama,” Miranda whispered into the phone.

  “Can you hear anything now?”

  There was a brief pause before Miranda answered. “I heard a car door slam, and now there’s a car driving away.”

  Wanda Nell went almost limp with relief. Miranda’s screams had scared off whoever it was trying to get in. “Listen, honey,” Wanda Nell said. “I want you to hang up right now, then call 911. I’m on the way home right now. Got that?”

  At Miranda’s assurance, Wanda Nell ended the call. She grabbed up her purse and gabbled a quick explanation at the two women. “Call me as soon as you get home, Wanda Nell,” Mrs. Culpepper instructed.

  Belle Meriwether was going on and on about something, but Wanda Nell didn’t pay any attention. She was out the front door and down the walk to her car as fast as she could go. She wasn’t sure later whether she had even closed Mrs. Culpepper’s front door behind her.

  She took a shortcut through the east side of town to get out to the highway, and from there it was only three minutes to the lakeshore road out to the trailer park. Eleven minutes after she had left Mrs. Culpepper’s house, Wanda Nell arrived home. They were eleven of the longest minutes of her life.