Wanda Nell stared at her in astonishment. “You know, I had completely forgotten about that. By then I knew I was going to have a baby, and I was so terrified of telling Mama about it, I wasn’t thinking about much else.” She frowned. “I remember Mama having to go to school a couple of times and bring Rusty home, but I wasn’t paying too much attention to Rusty and his problems then.” She felt guilty all over again. Rusty might really have needed a sister to talk to, and she hadn’t even cared enough to pay attention.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Ernie said, her voice kind. “You were in a very difficult situation yourself, Wanda Nell, and at that age, you usually can’t cope with anyone else’s problems.”
Wanda Nell appreciated her words, though they didn’t lessen the burden of guilt she felt.
“Now, the odd thing about those fights,” Ernie said, “was that, the spring before this all happened, I remember hearing talk about your brother and Reggie hanging around with the older boys. I know Reggie idolized his brother Tony, and he and your brother were trying as hard as they could to fit in with what they probably saw as the really cool crowd at school.”
Wanda Nell shrugged. “I guess so, I just don’t really remember much about it. That’s what’s so frustrating for me. I feel like I ought to know what’s at the bottom of all this, but I don’t. Rusty and I weren’t having much to do with each other in those days. He didn’t confide in me like he had before.”
“That’s only natural at that age,” Ernie said. ‘Teenagers want to start separating themselves from their families, trying to find out who they really are apart from their family. And sometimes, sad to say, it gets them into trouble.”
Thinking about the trouble both T.J. and Miranda had gotten into, Wanda Nell had to agree. At least T.J. was finally settling down. She hoped she wasn’t in a nursing home before Miranda managed to do it.
“I wonder what kind of trouble it was,” Wanda Nell said.
“At that age, and with boys, it could be several different things,” Ernie said. “Especially if drinking or drugs, or both, are involved. It could have something to do with a girl, or a car.” She frowned. “I believe there was some trouble with one or two of those boys over racing out on some of the back roads in the county.”
“And if somebody got real badly hurt, and they tried to cover it up,” Wanda Nell said, thinking aloud, “and all these years it was covered up. But here comes Rusty, all of sudden, threatening to make it public for some reason.” She stopped.
“That’s a possibility,” Ernie said. “I should think that, whatever is behind these two deaths, it isn’t petty. But think for a moment about the implications of what you just said, Wanda Nell. Do you really think your brother is blackmailing someone? Or several people, perhaps?”
Wanda Nell expelled a heavy breath. “I don’t want to think so, but I just keep coming back to that same conclusion. I’m not sure what else it could be.”
“If your brother is blackmailing someone, and I’m not saying he is, but if he is, then what does he want from the people he’s blackmailing?”
Shrugging, Wanda Nell said, “I guess money. That’s the most obvious thing, isn’t it? Isn’t that what blackmailers usually want?”
“Yes,” Ernie said. “Does your brother appear to need money for something?”
“He does,” Wanda Nell said, her heart aching. “He looks so tired and worn out, I almost didn’t recognize him. He’s two years younger than me, but he looks about twenty years older. And he drives this beat-up old pickup that don’t look like it’ll make it to the next county, much less from here to Nashville.”
“It does sound like he’s having a rough time of it,” Ernie said, her voice neutral. “In that case, it’s easy to see where someone might be tempted to make use of an old secret.”
“I hate to think of Rusty doing something like that, and on top of it, killing two men over it,” Wanda Nell said. “I just can’t believe he’s killed anybody, and I don’t want to believe he’s blackmailing either.”
“Simply because he might be blackmailing someone doesn’t automatically make your brother a murderer,” Ernie said. “Think about it for a moment. Why should he kill the goose that lays the golden egg, so to speak?”
“If they were refusing to pay up, he might get mad and kill them,” Wanda Nell said.
“True,” Ernie said. “But don’t you think it’s far more likely that someone else killed them to make sure they didn’t talk? They could have been the weak links, and the killer was afraid they’d break under pressure.”
“I hadn’t really thought it all the way through like that,” Wanda Nell said slowly. “But I think you’re right. When I talked to Scott Simpson, it was real obvious to me that he was a lot more afraid of someone else than he was of me. Even if I had gone to the principal and told him what Simpson was up to in his office, he still wasn’t going to talk to me.”
“Then we are forced to conclude that something terrible must have happened in the past, involving the two dead men, Marty Shaw, and Bert Vines. And if those young men were involved, that means Tony Campbell probably was as well. Somehow your brother found out about it, or he may even have witnessed it.”
“That makes sense,” Wanda Nell said. Ernie had put it all into words for her, clearly and starkly.
“Another important question is, why did your brother wait all this time to do something about it? Why didn’t he try blackmailing them sooner? Something sparked this, and if you can find out what it was, then you’ll be able to understand better what drove your brother to it.”
“If I could just get Bert or Marty to talk to me,” Wanda Nell said. She shook her head. “What am I saying? One of them is probably the killer, or maybe even Tony Campbell. I haven’t talked to him at all. They’re not going to talk to me. But I’ve got to do something. I’ve got to find my brother.”
She hadn’t realized how upset she was becoming until she saw the look of compassion in Ernie’s face. “I’m sorry,” Wanda Nell said, leaning back on the sofa. “I just feel like I’m in a box, and every which way I turn, there’s no way out.”
“I understand,” Ernie said, “and I wish there were more I could do for you, my dear. I’ll put my mind to it, and if I can think of someone to uncover the cause of all this, I’ll let you know.” She paused for a moment, considering something. “I just wonder if it would do any good trying to talk to the sheriff. If he doesn’t know what happened, he is the one person who might be able to get the truth out of his son.”
“I don’t know,” Wanda Nell said. “He’s been real nice to me since Daddy died, like when Bobby Ray was murdered. But I don’t know if he’d talk to me about something like this, something his own son could be mixed up in. If Daddy was still alive, maybe he could talk to him. They were good friends once...” Her voice trailed off as the implication sank in completely. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”
“See what?” Ernie prompted her.
“I bet this is why Daddy and the sheriff had a falling out,” Wanda Nell said, her voice strained. “I never did know what happened between them, and Mama wouldn’t say, even if she knew. And it was right after that that Daddy had his heart attack and died.” She stared at Ernie, appalled.
“What is it, Wanda Nell?”
“Whatever it was, it killed my daddy.”
“Killed your father?” Ernie asked, clearly puzzled by Wanda Nell’s stark words. “How so?”
“Something must have upset Daddy pretty bad for him to have that massive heart attack.” Wanda Nell was trying hard not to get upset and start crying. “And if Rusty was involved in something really bad, and it caused trouble between Daddy and the sheriff, well, I reckon it helped cause Daddy’s heart attack.”
“That’s possible,” Ernie said in a calm, even tone. “Try not to upset yourself, my dear. I know it must be very painful for you to have to think about all this now. Focus on the present, though.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Wan
da Nell said, grateful for the concern. “If whatever happened really did cause the trouble between Daddy and Sheriff Shaw, then I guess I’m going to have to talk to the sheriff and see what he’ll tell me.” She paused, frowning. “Of course, maybe I’ve got this all wrong, and what happened between them has nothing to do with all this.”
“That could very well be,” Ernie said. “But I don’t think you can overlook the possibility that all of this is somehow linked.” She stared thoughtfully at Wanda Nell. “I’ve known the sheriff a long time, my dear, and I’m wondering if you’ll be able to get anything out of him. He is a man who is fiercely protective of his family, and if Marty is in any way involved, then he may do whatever he has to do for his son’s sake.”
“Meaning he’s not going to be all that worried about my brother, if Marty’s in on any of this,” Wanda Nell said.
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Ernie said. “I’m sorry, Wanda Nell, but this does put you in a difficult position. It might even be a dangerous one.”
“I know,” Wanda Nell said. “But I don’t like people threatening me or anybody in my family. I don’t care who they are, sheriff or no sheriff.”
“I admire your attitude,” Ernie said, “and if there’s anything I can do, you can count on me. In fact, if and when you do talk to the sheriff, you be sure and let him know that you’ve discussed all this with me.”
“Are you sure?” Wanda Nell frowned. “I don’t want to bring any trouble on you, in case this gets even uglier.”
“I’m sure,” Ernie said, her voice firm. “My family was the first to settle in this area back in 1831, except for Native Americans, of course. The Carpenter name is still respected, and if you let the sheriff know you have someone like me on your side, he’s not going to ignore that easily.”
Now Wanda Nell really did feel like she was going to cry. In her quest for information from her former teacher, she had never expected anything like this. “Thank you,” she managed to say. She knew Ernie’s word would carry a lot of weight, because Ernie wasn’t exaggerating the family’s prominence in Tullahoma County. “That means a lot to me, and I may need all the friends I can get before this whole mess is resolved somehow.”
She stood up. “I think I’ve taken up enough of your time, and I’ve got to be getting back to town so I can go to work. I sure do appreciate all your help.”
Ernie got up from her chair and escorted Wanda Nell to the door. “My dear, I’m happy to do whatever I can.” She put a hand on Wanda Nell’s arm as they paused before the door. “Please call me, and let me know how things are going. In the meantime, if I think of anything, or anyone, that can help, I’ll let you know.”
Wanda Nell pulled a scrap of paper and a pen from her purse and jotted down her cell number. She gave it to Ernie, explaining what it was. “Thank you,” she said simply, then walked out the door to her car.
Glancing at her watch, she was surprised to see that the conversation with Ernie had taken only about thirty-five minutes. She should make it to work right on time, barring something unforeseen.
She backed the car around and headed down Ernie’s drive to the highway. Pausing there, she looked both ways for oncoming traffic. Her view to the left was pretty good. She could see all the way back down to that sharp bend in the road. But on her right she could see for only about ten or fifteen yards. If a car came up fast from the right, she might be pulling out right in front of it. Also to her right, a gravel road branched off from the highway, forming the left side of a V. After a few feet the road was obscured by the heavy growth of trees and bushes on both sides, and she couldn’t see very far down it. She hadn’t paid it any attention before, but as she glanced at it, the sun glinted off something on that road just beyond the limits of clear sight.
Was there a car there? No other traffic was in sight at the moment, and though she probably had the right of way, Wanda Nell waited before pulling out on the highway, just in case.
No vehicle appeared, but whatever it was glinted in the sunlight again. Shrugging, Wanda Nell made another quick check before she accelerated left onto the road.
A moment later, out of habit, she glanced into the rearview mirror. There behind her about forty yards, seemingly from nowhere, was a black car.
That was odd. Where had the car come from? That side road? Had it been the sun glinting off something on the black car that she had seen?
Wanda Nell focused her attention on the road in front of her for a moment, belatedly remembering the dangerous curve she was approaching.
Safely around the curve, she looked into the rearview mirror again. The black car was still there, now about fifty yards behind her. She couldn’t really see who was driving the car, but she thought it was a man.
Switching her glance between the road ahead and the car behind, Wanda Nell wondered why she suddenly felt so nervous.
The more she thought about it, though, she thought it was pretty strange, the way that car seemed to come out of nowhere. A vague memory stirred in her mind. Hadn’t she seen that car somewhere recently? It looked like a Mercedes, and you didn’t see too many of those around Tullahoma.
Was the driver of the Mercedes following her? And had he followed her on her trip out to Ernie’s? She had been in such a rush to get there, concentrating on finding the place, she hadn’t paid any attention to traffic on the road behind her.
She felt a chill down her spine. Why was she being followed, if she was?
Then she remembered where she had seen the Mercedes before. It belonged to Bert Vines.
That was pretty bold of him—following her in a car that would be pretty easy to identify. But maybe he wasn’t too worried about her knowing who was following her.
Then a more chilling thought struck her. Did he intend to do something besides just follow her to see where she was going?
Surely he wasn’t going to try to run her off the road?
Without thinking about it she pressed her foot to the accelerator, and her little Chevy jumped forward.
Startled, she eased her foot off the accelerator a bit. Just ahead of her lay the intersection with the highway back to Tullahoma.
She slowed the car and came to a halt at the junction. To her right the highway crested the top of a hill. Glancing both ways, she pulled quickly onto the highway, turning left toward Tullahoma. Below her to the left was a country store.
Making a quick decision, she pulled into the parking lot of the store, watching her rearview mirror as she did so.
The Mercedes drove by, and Wanda Nell watched until it disappeared down the road.
Shaking slightly, she pulled her cell phone out of her purse and punched in a number.
“Law offices of Hamilton Tucker,” T.J. said after about two rings. “How may I direct your call?”
“T.J., it’s Mama,” Wanda Nell said, barely letting him get out the standard greeting.
“Mama, what’s wrong?” T.J. had instantly picked up on the tension in her voice.
Wanda Nell took a breath to steady herself. “I’m out in Pleasant Springs. I drove out here to talk to somebody, and I think I’m being followed.”
“By who?”
“I think it’s Bert Vines,” she said. “It’s a black Mercedes, and he’s the only person I know of who’s got one.”
“Where are you now?”
“I’m at a store out here on the highway, just before you turn off on the Cadaretta road.”
“You want me to come out there? I know where you’re talking about.”
“No, I think it’ll be okay,” Wanda Nell said, feeling calmer. “I don’t think he’s going to try to run me off the road or anything. I think maybe he was just watching to see where I was going.”
“Where did you go?”
“I was talking to Miss Carpenter, the English teacher. You remember her from the high school?”
“I sure do,” T.J. said, laughing a little. “She used to scare the bejeezus out of me. She was one tough lady.”
“
Yeah, she is that,” Wanda Nell agreed, smiling. “I talked to her about the men involved in this mess, hoping she might know something or remember something that could help.”
“Did she?”
“Sort of,” Wanda Nell said. “I’ll tell you more about it later.”
“Okay,” T.J. said. “But what are you going to do now?”
“I’m going to get back on the road, because I’ve got to get to work.” She hesitated. “Would it be okay if I don’t hang up? I’m going to put my phone down on the seat, and if for some reason I need help, I can talk to you right away.”
“That’s fine, Mama,” T.J. said. “I’ll hang on till you get to work.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’m going to put the phone down now and get back on the road.” She laid the phone on the seat, put the car back into gear, and drove back onto the highway.
There was very little traffic on the road. In the first half mile Wanda Nell met only one truck heading in the other direction. When she passed a gravel road leading into woods on either side, she glanced into the rearview mirror. A black car was pulling onto the highway behind her.
Hand trembling slightly, she picked up her cell phone.
Chapter 15
“I’m here, Mama.”
“He’s there.”
“You want me to call the sheriff’s department?”
“No, I don’t think he’s going to try anything,” Wanda Nell said, with more confidence than she actually felt.
“Then you hightail it back to town, and don’t mess around.”
“I will,” Wanda Nell said. “I’m going to put the phone down again.” She did, checking the rearview mirror.
The Mercedes was hanging back. There was a long, flat stretch of road ahead of her and not another vehicle in sight. If Bert wanted to try something, now would be a good time.
Best Served Cold (A Trailer Park Mystery Book 3) Page 14