Our table was a good one, not too close to the band and not too close to the dance floor. Dinner was served quickly and Charlie Rich provided us with a few tunes before Mary Ellen delivered her formal welcome and birthday wishes to her son.
It seems that then we were on our own – left to our own devices. And using her devices, Liz had a lot of social networking to get accomplished. She quickly left the table to make her ‘rounds’. That left Judy, Jack and I to catch up and spend most of the evening discussing other guests.
Judy told me that the attendance guest list was open. That meant key people were able to invite guests of their choosing. I was still looking for Mr. Knuchols – he was probably in the downstairs bar.
The ‘beauty’ I had spotted earlier at Mary Ellen’s was dancing with a very handsome young man – who I assumed to be Phillip Chaney. They made a lovely couple and I asked Judy what she knew about our ‘beauty’ and her escort.
“Is this a personal question or a professional one?” she asked with a frown.
“Neither, just curiosity – I promise.”
“Carson, in her case, curiosity has killed more than one cat,” her story began.
Charlotte Luckey had been the Strawberry Hostess Princess her junior year. Sometime later that year she evidently became the victim of a stalker – originally a rumor, but it eventually became news. With photos, television and constant publicity, her picture was either in the paper or she was making a personal appearance. This stalker became obsessed with Charlotte, and things began to get ugly. He would call her repeatedly at home and sometimes at school. According to the story, he knew her every move – where she went, whom she was with, whom she talked to and even where she had lunch. It was a nightmare. Of course she had done nothing but enter and win a beauty contest – it wasn’t her fault that she was a pretty girl.
The local and state police were involved in the investigation and they eventually had her phone tapped – unfortunately he was making the calls from a payphone – not a residence. They made the trace just once and found an empty phone booth with the phone dangling – police had just missed him. Because he seemed to know everything, the police thought it might be a fellow student – someone who could watch her and not make her suspicious. It made sense.
Later that year Charlotte and family moved to Trenton and a different school for her, hoping the harassment and stalking would stop – it didn’t. When he eventually threatened to kill her, she agreed to a meeting – set up by the police. They caught him. It wasn’t a student; in fact, it wasn’t even a Humboldt resident. Just some weirdo that lived in Milan – alone. News reports said his house was wallpapered with clippings and photos of Charlotte. Most everyone believes that he would have eventually carried through on his threat to kill her.
Obviously she was one frightened and frustrated young girl. I can’t imagine someone her age having to go through that – and all because she won a beauty contest. That’s sad.
However, it didn’t seem to leave a permanent scar, because she quickly got back into the beauty review business and was crowned Miss Peabody her senior year.
With her title of Miss Peabody, she entered the Strawberry Festival contest. She was a definite favorite, if not a ‘sure thing’ to win Strawberry Queen – when the worst happened. Just prior to the Strawberry Festival, a rumor surfaced about her having an affair with a high school teacher. Not just any high school teacher – but the high school football coach James ‘Jimmy’ Gannon.
From that point it got uglier. Charlotte was forced to withdraw from the Strawberry Queen competition and Coach Gannon resigned. Fallout continued. James Gannon’s wife, Barbara Gannon, sued for divorce and named Charlotte as the reason. Coach Gannon was arrested for having sex with a minor –and he went to jail. Lucky for him, no one would testify and the stink eventually went away – as much as it could. He never made it to court and everyone tried to forget the scandal.
After that Charlotte left town, moved to Memphis, and tried to put her life back together – without much success. Back in Humboldt her mother, Loretta, had several run-ins with Barbara Gannon – many involving the police. She blamed Coach Gannon for ruining Charlotte’s career and Barbara blamed Charlotte for ruining their marriage. Everybody sued everybody and eventually it was just absorbed into the woodwork. Barbara took up with some truck driver named Lee Stevens - he briefly tried to resurrect the issue, but now they seem to be settled and operate a bait shop near Humboldt Lake.
Her mother, Loretta, divorced Charlotte’s father – Travis and married Curtis Turner. Curtis and his family had operated a successful electrical/plumbing business in Humboldt for years until Curtis’ gambling got in the way. Evidently he bet and lost on a regular basis – they lost everything and that eventually forced Loretta back to her hairdresser business in Humboldt.
Charlotte had left many in their ruins and they continued to fall. She even had a brief fling with Chuck Maxwell, Mary Ellen’s oldest son. But that didn’t seem to go anywhere – much to Mary Ellen’s delight. Charlotte’s high school boyfriend, Billy Vickers, followed her to Memphis – but that didn’t work either. She had, somehow, used part of the Vickers family farm money to enroll in Memphis State University. While in college, she met Phillip Chaney, and Charlotte was again moving in the direction she wanted to go. Phillip, along with his father, Forrest Chaney, are old money in Memphis. In addition to real estate, they control much of the shipping coming into the Port of Memphis.
After taking his money, Billy Vickers was given his ‘by-by’ and Charlotte was once again the charm of success.
She had natural beauty and briefly tried to reenter the beauty arena – attending some training schools in Memphis – but quickly realized the money was somewhere else. Charlotte is here at the party showing her wares, but mostly showing off her new jewel – Phillip Chaney.
“Judy – that is some story!” I was in shock.
“Yes, and all true – as far as I know. I guess the good part is that she doesn’t seem any the worse for her adventures – it’s ashamed we can’t say that about those she ran over while having those adventures!”
“What about this new love – Phillip Chaney?” I asked.
“Difficult to tell,” Judy said with a frown. “He’s certainly got charm and money – but she seems to destroy everything. I hope they can find happiness together.”
Liz finally came around and we managed to get in a dance before the Governor took over. Never one to miss an opportunity - he used the microphone to thank everyone for being here and said he would appreciate our vote in the next election. After a short dance with his wife, he and his entourage left and headed back to his airplane.
After the Governor’s speech, Liz was off again and I decided it was time for some fresh air.
Luckily I can still get Cuban cigars from the tobacco shop in the Peabody - and I just happened to have a fresh Fuente in my pocket. It was time to have one.
I headed downstairs to grab a drink from Nuddy and use the bar patio for my cigar. Waiting for my Jack and Coke I finally spotted Brad Knuchols standing in the corner. He was talking to a couple of people I didn’t recognize. One was equal to Brad – 6’ plus and well built - the other was much smaller with short salt/pepper hair.
“Nuddy,” I asked. “You see that big guy in the corner wearing the stripped tux?”
“Sure do Carson, but I’ve never seen him before.”
“Who is he talking to? Do you know them?”
“Just the short guy. His name is Mickey Campbell – local bookie and, supposedly tough guy. I’ve heard he’s tied in pretty tight with the Memphis boys and I believe it.”
I got my drink and made my way through the crowd to the patio. It was a beautiful night – cool and a full moon - bright enough to light up most of the golf course.
I lit my Fuente and was admiring the evening when Mickey Campbell came out the bar door, crossed the deck and walked quickly into the parking lot – he never acknowledged my presence
. At the edge of the parking area he met someone who obviously didn’t belong at the party – he wasn’t dressed for it. I learned later that the person he met was Travis Luckey, Charlotte’s father. He and Mickey spoke briefly and then walked together toward the 18 th green, quietly talking.
I was contemplating another drink when I heard their voices get louder. They were out of my sight and I was not able to understand the words – but I did understand the tone and it was not a good one. Within a minute, Mickey was back on the patio; he walked past me again and reentered the downstairs bar – Brad Knuchols and the other gentleman had not moved and were still having a conversation in the corner.
Still enjoying my cigar and the evening, I then heard another set of loud voices. I couldn’t see anyone, but the voices seemed to be coming from somewhere near the golf cart shed. This time I determined it to be a man and a woman and the conversation was getting louder with each word.
It ended with the man yelling, “you no good bitch.” It was loud enough to be heard inside, if the music hadn’t been playing. Within an instant, Charlotte ran on to the patio and past me crying. She entered the downstairs bar and headed straight for the women’s locker room. A moment later Phillip Chaney walked past me and into the bar – I couldn’t see where he went from there.
I found my way back at our table where Liz had finally settled down and was having a serious discussion with Jack and Judy. I encouraged her into a couple more dances before she insisted we return to Mary Ellen’s for a nightcap. I agreed.
Passing the airport, I noticed a number of planes had already left. However, Phillip Chaney’s Cessna was still there – where it had been parked earlier.
Along with Jack and Judy, we joined Gerald and Mary Ellen at a table by the pool.
~
“ M ary Ellen, I can honestly say I can’t remember when I’ve had more fun – at least when I was dressed this way! You have hosted a terrific party and I’m sure you son will remember it forever.” I was serious.
“Yes, but maybe for all the wrong reasons,” she seemed agitated.
“What happened?” Jack asked as he sat down.
“It’s that damn Charlotte Luckey. About an hour ago her ex-boyfriend, Billy Vickers, shows up and demands to talk with Charlotte. I had no idea where she was and politely asked him to leave – he didn’t. My son, Chuck, saw the confrontation and then he got involved. Fortunately no punches were thrown and nothing got broken, but it was headed that way. Gerald had already summoned the deputies, Jeff and Scotty, and luckily they got him out of here before things got worse.” You could hear the frustration in her voice.
“Well, guess we missed the excitement – huh?” I said trying to ease the tension, but I wasn’t ready for what she said next.
“That’s not all. Just after the deputies throw Billy Vickers out, Charlotte shows up and she’s a little drunk – no, she’s a LOT drunk. She walks up to the table where Nancy Young and Laura Westbrook are sitting and pours a glass of champagne on to their heads – both of them at the same time!”
“Is she still here?” I asked looking around.
“Hell no. If she were, I would have her arrested. She stormed out the front door and into the night. I have no idea where she went and I really don’t care.” I believed her.
I looked at Judy and asked, “Who are Nancy Young and Laura Westbrook?”
Liz answered for her. “Two beauty queens. You mean you didn’t notice them too?”
“No Liz – I did not. After you arrived all my attention was directed toward you,” I lied.
“That’s bull-shit Carson and you know it.” She was kidding – I think.
Judy finally answered. “Both Nancy and Laura were in the Strawberry Queen review – the one Charlotte dropped out of. In fact, Laura was crowned queen that year.”
“Interesting,” I said to no one.
“Yes it is interesting, but let’s please change the subject – can we?” Liz said waiving her empty wineglass at everyone.
She didn’t wait for an answer. “Carson, I’m hungry – are you?”
“No, I had a great dinner and plenty of finger food.” I immediately knew I had said the wrong thing and quickly changed my answer. “Well, actually, yes I am hungry. Anyone for breakfast?” I asked everyone.
No one even thought of answering – just Liz. “Yes - me. Carson, you and I are having breakfast at my house and I’m cooking. How do you like your eggs?”
Planes, Trains and Automobiles
L iz had to work a noon flight to London, so she dropped me off at my car on her way back to Memphis. The old Ford looked lonely sitting in that field all by herself - I had left her all night. It had worked out best to ride with Liz and her Corvette - she didn’t like my car anyway.
When I got back to Chiefs the breakfast crowd was heavy – this was Saturday morning in a small town. I waved at Nickie and took a stool at the end of the bar – hoping she had some messages for me.
“Jack and Coke, Mr. Reno?” she asked grinning.
“Tell you what. Just hold that thought and bring me some coffee – I’ve already had breakfast.” I should have known better than to say that.
“Well, you didn’t have it in your room, and the maid said no one had used the bed.”
“Nickie, do you always keep up with your guests like that – or am I just special?”
She looked over her nose at me. “Yes, you are certainly special and I always am aware of your coming and going. With you – it is necessary. Lord knows when the sheriff, FBI, Federal Marshals or Wyatt Earp will show up looking for you. We run a tight ship here Mr. Reno and are always here for our guests – and the police.”
I knew she was digging and I wasn’t going to roll over.
“Stayed with Mom and Dad last night – seemed a good thing to do,” I lied.
“Do you want your coffee in a cup or all over your wrinkled tuxedo? Don’t bullshit me, I don’t have the time or patience.” She seemed a little angry – not like her.
“Okay Nickie, I surrender,” I said putting my arm around her shoulder. “You seem out of sorts. What’s wrong this morning?”
“Sorry Carson. Ronnie has just taken me over the edge this time – I don’t mean to take it out on you.”
“Should I ask, or just shut-up?” I was really curious.
“Just shut-up. But I’ll tell you anyway. Ronnie has taken most of our savings and invested it in some computer-shit thing called ICBM or IBM or something like that. It’s not enough that I have to work my tail off to keep this place running, while he can’t keep his dick in his pants. Now he takes our hard-earned money and throws it away on something that will never amount to anything. Who does he think he is – John D Rockefeller? What does he know about computers and what does he know about stocks and investments? I have threatened to kill him since I found out – it still might happen.”
“Nickie, I’m sorry – and sorry I asked. Maybe things will work out.” I didn’t think so.
“And I’m sorry to burden you with my troubles, but please get me out of jail when I kill him, okay?”
“I’ll speak to Jack – bail for murder is tough – but it seems you might have just cause, in this case. Right?”
“Right! Now I’ll get your coffee. You don’t want anything to eat? Oh, yeah –you already ate. Bet I know where!” She seemed to perk up a little.
“I ate at your competition!” I said trying to defend myself. “No, just coffee please and any messages that came in yesterday or last night.”
She went to get the coffee while I endured the relentless jukebox. 24x7 this thing spat out country music and everybody listened and seemed happy about it. They just kept inserting quarters in the damn thing – and it just kept putting their request in escrow for some other day and time.
“Here’s your coffee and message,” Nickie said returning a moment later, “you only had one. An Al Dollar called and left a Jackson number 529-9011 – sounds like a pay phone.”
“No c
all from Larry Parker?” I was getting concerned.
“Look, I may not wear a short skirt or do shorthand, but I can take messages and write down phone numbers. No – just the one call – that’s it. Sorry.”
I decided to leave well enough alone and let Nickie plot Ronnie’s murder on her own. I was, however, wondering why Larry had not called. This was not like him.
Leaving my coffee on the bar, I went to the outside payphone and called the Jackson number.
“Murphy’s Bar,” someone answered.
“Hello, I’m returning a call to Al Dollar. Is he there?”
“Just a minute,” they replied in a rough tone.
It was only a few seconds and someone picked up the phone and said, “Hello this is Al – who is this?”
“This is Carson. You left a message?”
“No asshole, you left the message – I just called you back. What do you want?” He was playing tough guy.
“I had some cars to talk to you about – but they are no longer available. Would you be interested in discussing another opportunity?” I was hoping he would say yes.
“Maybe. You can come over here and we’ll talk. But if you’re a cop, you won’t be returning home. Your decision.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you. Where?”
“Murphy’s Bar – I’ll be here all day. Just ask for Al.”
I wasn’t sure I really wanted to do this. “Okay, I’ll see you in a couple of hours – at Murphy’s Bar.”
He hung up, saying nothing else.
I finished my coffee and headed to the sheriff’s office. Leroy was on the phone and Jeff was at the front desk.
“You get any info on that limo tag?” I asked Jeff when he looked up.
“Sure did. Rented by a Mickey Campbell – and we know all about him. Is he connected to your 61 Chrysler?”
“Absolutely. I just don’t know how – yet.”
Leroy finished his other call and hung up the phone. I sat in one of his comfortable office chairs and told him about my conversation with Alfred E. Dollar and my planned meeting. He was, of course, very concerned.
The Price of Beauty in Strawberry Land Page 7