Flamingo Fatale (A Trailer Park Mystery Book 1)

by Jimmie Ruth Evans

  Wanda Nell went to the phone and punched in a familiar number. “Hey, there, Roberta, it’s Wanda Nell,” she said, after the voice on the other end had announced cheerfully, “Lucille’s Style Shop. How may I help you?”

  “Hey, girl, how you doing?” Roberta’s voice revealed her concern. She and Wanda Nell had been in the same grade in school, and though they had never been real close, they had always liked each other. “Mayrene was telling us what an awful time you been having. Anything I can do for you?”

  Wanda Nell’s eyes puddled suddenly from the unexpected offer. “Thank you, Roberta,” she said, trying not to choke up further. “Just hearing you say that means an awful lot to me.”

  “Well, you know I mean it, honey,” Roberta said. “You tell me, and I’ll do anything to help out. I made you one of my chicken casseroles, and Mayrene’s gonna bring it to you. Now, listen, honey, you holding up all right?”

  “I’m doing okay, I guess,” Wanda Nell said. “Hanging in there. And thanks for that casserole. I sure do appreciate it, and I know my girls will be glad, too.” She paused. “Listen, is Mayrene busy? I need to talk to her a minute.”

  “Sure, honey, hang on, and I’ll get her. She just put ol’ Miz Beecham under the dryer.” The phone clanked as Roberta set it down on the counter, and Wanda Nell could hear a number of female voices clattering in the background.

  A few moments later, Mayrene’s voice boomed into her ear. “Hey, girl. You okay? Roberta said you sounded a little shaky.”

  Wanda Nell gripped the receiver hard, trying not to give way to tears. All of it was suddenly piling up on her, and she had to get hold of herself. “I’m okay,” she said, her voice husky. She cleared her throat. “Listen, Mayrene. I need help. Elmer Lee is bound and determined to prove I killed Bobby Ray, and he ain’t doing much to find those guys that broke in here.”

  Mayrene snorted into the phone. “Now why ain’t I surprised by that? I’ve known fence posts smarter’n ol’ Elmer Lee.”

  Wanda Nell chuckled. “Yeah, well, this particular fence post is gonna cause me as much trouble as he can. Unless I can figure a way to get round him.”

  “What you want me to do?” Mayrene asked. “You know I’ll do anything I can to help, honey.”

  “Thanks, Mayrene,” Wanda Nell said. “I been counting on that, but I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

  Mayrene snorted again. “Don’t be foolish, Wanda Nell. Now what is it you want me to do?”

  “I want you to talk to all the ladies at the beauty parlor,” Wanda Nell said. “Tell ’em about what happened to me and my girls, and see if anybody noticed some strange men in town that day or that night.” She thought a moment, trying to remember how Juliet and Miranda had described the men. “Here’s what they looked like, best as I can recall.” She repeated everything she could remember.

  “I can surely do that,” Mayrene promised. “And if anybody saw those guys, we’ll know it. What are you gonna do? Talk it up at the Kountry Kitchen?”

  “Yeah,” Wanda Nell said. “And I’m gonna go round this trailer park knocking on doors. You can’t tell me that Elmer Lee and his crew really worked that hard at it.”

  “You got that right!” Mayrene laughed. Then she sobered quickly. “But, honey, you need to be careful. If Elmer Lee catches on to what we’re doing, he ain’t gonna like it too much.”

  “I don’t care,” Wanda Nell said. “He ain’t gonna think any worse of me than he already does, that’s for damn sure.”

  “Okay, then,” Mayrene answered. “Look, I gotta go. Miz Beecham’s wiggling around under the dryer.” The phone clicked in Wanda Nell’s ear.

  She put the receiver back in its cradle and stood staring at it for a couple of minutes. She had been putting something off, but she couldn’t much longer. She had to try.

  Sighing, she opened a drawer in the cabinet and pulled out a ragged address book. She thumbed the pages until she got to the C’s, then scanned down the entries, looking at the numerous strings of digits she had listed under her son’s name. The Lord only knew if she could find T.J. using one of these numbers. The last time she had talked to him, nearly two years ago, he had been in jail down in Pearl River County, near the Gulf Coast. She hadn’t had the heart to ask what the charges were, just asked how he was doing and how long he was in for, and let it go at that.

  She hadn’t heard from him since, though she had tried calling him a couple of times, trying various friends he often stayed with. He wasn’t still in jail in Pearl River County, that much she knew. She’d simply have to start calling his friends, see if one of them knew where he was.

  As she punched in the first number, her stomach knotted. She hated feeling this way about her only son, but he was a puzzle to her. She didn’t know how to handle him, what it was he needed from her to try to straighten out his life.

  The phone rang and rang. Wanda Nell disconnected, waited a moment, then tried a different number. This time she got an answer.

  “T.J.?”

  The voice on the other end sounded like she had interrupted something. “No’m, I ain’t seen nor heard from him in months.”

  Wanda Nell thanked the woman on the other end and disconnected once again. She got the same response from two other numbers, one a male friend and the other another of TJ.’s former girlfriends. At least they were halfway friendly, Wanda Nell thought. With other women, at least, T.J. somehow managed to part on good terms. Just not with his mother.

  Wanda Nell had two numbers left, and with one of them she finally got some results. “Yes, ma’am,” the man said when Wanda Nell had identified herself and explained that she was looking for her son.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said again. “I saw T.J. ’bout a week ago, I guess, over in Greenville, and he was talking like he was gonna be headin’ over your way. Said he had family in Tullahoma, and he was gonna go check on his mama.”

  “Just a week ago?” Wanda Nell asked.

  “Yes’m,” he said. “That’s the last time I seen him.” Wanda Nell thanked him and put down the phone. So T.J. had been as near as Greenville, about ninety miles away, just a week ago.

  Then where the heck was he now? Wanda Nell suddenly had a bad feeling she really didn’t want to have.

  Chapter 8

  Could T.J. be in Tullahoma and her not know it? Wanda Nell didn’t like to think so. In the past he’d always made a beeline for his mama and sisters when he hit town, no matter what. He adored Juliet, she was always his favorite. Miranda he tolerated, but she was too much like him for them to get on well.

  When he did turn up, he sure was going to be surprised when he saw his little nephew. Wanda Nell shook her head at that thought. Unless he had changed a lot, T.J. wasn’t going to like finding out Lavon’s daddy was a black man. A light-skinned black man, to be sure, but still black.

  If he was in Tullahoma now, where could he be? Wanda Nell thought about some of the boys he used to hang around with. Maybe one of them had heard from him recently. She checked the phone book for a number, then punched it in.

  After three rings, a gruff voice answered. “Yeah?” Wanda Nell identified herself, then asked, “Is this Jackie Pinnix?”

  “Yes’m,” he said. “Anything I can help you with, Miz Culpepper?”

  “I heard T.J. might be in town, Jackie,” she said. “Have you seen him? Or heard from him lately?”

  In the pause that followed, Wanda Nell could hear the flick of a lighter and the sound of exhaled smoke. “No’m, I hadn’t heard from T.J. in a while. But if’n I spot him somewhere, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

  “I’d appreciate that, Jackie,” Wanda Nell said. “There’s some bad news he needs to know.”

  Jackie didn’t ask what the bad news was. Either he’d already heard it around town, Wanda Nell reckoned, or he just plain wasn’t interested. She set the receiver on its cradle with a frown. If T.J. was somewhere in Tullahoma, Jackie Pinnix was more likely to find him than she was. He and T.J. had
been real good friends at one point, until they’d had some kind of falling out.

  A knock on the door startled her. She went to the door and peered out the window. Two neighbor ladies stood there, each with a covered dish in her hands. Sighing, Wanda Nell opened the door.

  “Good afternoon, Miz Hyde, Miz Kennington. How are y’all today?” She stood back to let them enter.

  “Afternoon, Miz Culpepper,” the older of the two, Mrs. Hyde, said. “How are you and your girls doing? We heard about the terrible thing that happened to their daddy.” Wanda Nell stared at them for a moment. Neither of them had ever made much effort to be friendly before, and from the way they were looking at her now, curiosity had got the better of them.

  “They’re doing about as good as can be expected,” Wanda Nell said. “I appreciate y’all’s concern, but I really don’t feel much like talking about it, if you don’t mind.”

  Their faces fell, though they tried hard not to let Wanda Nell see their disappointment.

  “That’s alright, Miz Culpepper,” Mrs. Kennington said. “We just wanted you to know we been thinking about you and praying for you in this terrible time.” She thrust the dish she was carrying toward Wanda Nell. “I made you a little something, my green bean casserole. It’s my own special recipe.”

  “Thank you,” Wanda Nell said. “That’s real kind of you.” She stood there, holding the dish, waiting for Mrs. Hyde to say her piece.

  “And I made y’all some of my fried chicken,” Mrs. Hyde said. “The recipe’s been in my family for years. I hope y’all like it.”

  Wanda Nell accepted her dish, too, and carried them both to the kitchen and put them in the refrigerator. Returning, she thanked them again. “Ladies, can I ask y’all a question, if you don’t mind?”

  “Why, sure, Miz Culpepper,” Mrs. Hyde said, her eyes glowing with anticipation.

  “Well, I was just wondering,” Wanda Nell began slowly. “Did y’all hear or see anything strange last night?”

  The two women looked at each other for a moment, then slowly each one turned back to Wanda Nell and shook her head. “Not a thing, dear,” Mrs. Kennington said. “I wish we had. Maybe we could help. But once I go to sleep, even Gabriel’s horn won’t wake me up.”

  “Me, neither,” Mrs. Hyde said. “Sorry.”

  “Well, thank you, anyway,” Wanda Nell said.

  “Our pleasure,” Mrs. Kennington assured her.

  Wanda Nell gently shepherded them to the door. “I’m sorry I can’t talk longer,” she said, “but I’ve got to start getting ready for work soon. I’m sure y’all understand.”

  Both women nodded before they said goodbye. Wanda Nell watched them for a moment from the window as they walked back down toward the other end of the trailer park, where their trailers stood across from each other. Their heads were together, and Wanda Nell could just imagine what they were busy whispering to each other. She turned away.

  Glancing at the clock, Wanda Nell figured she’d better get a move on. She had time to do a little cleaning before she had to get ready for work. She found her rubber gloves and her bucket of cleaning supplies and went to Miranda’s end of the trailer. No matter how much she fussed at Miranda, the girl simply would not clean her bathroom the way Wanda Nell wanted her to.

  So Wanda Nell just scrubbed it down herself. She couldn’t abide a dirty bathroom, and Miranda and the baby would wallow in filth if Wanda Nell didn’t take a hand.

  Shaking her head in disgust at the state of the bathtub, Wanda Nell switched on the portable CD player Miranda kept in the bathroom and set to work. At least scrubbing at the soap scum allowed her to bum off some of her irritation and uncertainty. As she sang along with Reba McEntire, she was able to think about other things for at least a while.

  After she had finished the bathtub and the sink, Wanda Nell reluctantly opened the lid of the diaper pail. She refused to have those disposable diapers in her house, and Miranda wasn’t too good about making sure the cloth diapers were washed before Lavon ran out. The pail was almost full, and the smell just about knocked her back when she lifted the lid.

  Wanda Nell hastily dropped the lid back down, then grabbed the handle and toted the large pail into the small utility room off the kitchen. A check of the clock told her she didn’t have time to run a load of diapers and then let the hot water build up for her own shower, so she left the pail on top of the washing machine.

  As she was stripping off her gloves in the kitchen, Wanda Nell heard her car. She looked out the window to see Miranda getting Lavon out of his car seat. Wanda Nell put away her cleaning supplies and went into the living room to greet her daughter and grandson.

  “Hi, Mama,” Miranda said, pulling the door shut behind her and the baby. “You get some sleep?”

  “I did,” Wanda Nell said, “no thanks to the sheriff’s department.”

  “What happened?” Miranda asked, shifting Lavon from one hip to the other.

  “Oh, that fool Elmer Lee came back, trying to make out like you girls and I been lying about those men that broke in here.”

  “That’s stupid,” Miranda protested. “Why’d we make up something like that?”

  “Because,” Wanda Nell said grimly, “Elmer Lee thinks I killed your daddy, and you girls are helping me cover it up by making up a story about those men.”

  Lavon held his arms out to her, and she took him from Miranda. She kissed his forehead, then frowned at Miranda. “Miranda, this baby’s hot. I think he may be running a fever.”

  “Oh, he’s okay. Mama,” Miranda said, not looking at Wanda Nell. “We was just sitting out in the sun for a while, that’s all.”

  “You know better’n to keep this baby out in the sun too long,” Wanda Nell said as mildly as she could. “Come on, sugar, let’s go get you some water, okay?”

  Lavon mumbled something, and Wanda Nell took him into the kitchen for a drink while Miranda disappeared in the direction of her bedroom. Moments later she was back, her face now slightly flushed just like her son’s.

  “Mama,” she said, “where’s the diaper pail? It’s gone from the bathroom, and I got a couple messy diapers to put in it.”

  “It’s in there on the washing machine,” Wanda Nell said. “Yeah, that’s Grandma’s good boy, Lavon, drink up that water.” She turned to look at Miranda, fidgeting in the doorway.

  “You really need to run a load of diapers soon’s I get done with my shower, honey,” Wanda Nell said. “Why’d you let it go this long?”

  “I guess I just forgot about it, Mama,” Miranda replied, looking relieved about something. “But I promise I’ll wash ever’ single one of ’em today, after you’ve gone to work.”

  “You do that,” Wanda Nell said. She turned back to her grandson and checked his forehead. “He’s cooling off. He just needed some water. You got to be careful, Miranda, about letting this baby get dehydrated.”

  But she was talking to the air. Miranda had disappeared. Shaking her head, Wanda Nell carried Lavon with her into the utility room, where she found Miranda peering into the diaper pail.

  “They’re all still there,” Wanda Nell said, “just as stinky as they were when I found them.”

  Miranda had started at the sound of her mother’s voice. “Yes, Mama,” she said meekly. “I know, and I’ll get all of ’em cleaned up, and I won’t let Lavon get too warm again. I promise.”

  “Good,” was all Wanda Nell said as she handed her grandson to his mother after one final hug and kiss. She left the two of them in the utility room.

  By the time Wanda Nell had showered, dressed in her uniform, put on her makeup, and done her hair, Juliet was hopping down off the bus. Wanda Nell could see her through the window of the bathroom she shared with her younger daughter. Checking her watch, she saw that it was three-forty-five. As soon as she greeted Juliet and heard a little bit about her day at school, she’d have to head on to her shift at the Kountry Kitchen.

  She found Juliet in the kitchen pouring herself a glass of mil
k. “Hey, honey, how was your day at school?” She stroked her daughter’s long blonde hair.

  Juliet smiled at her. “It was fine. Mama. Of course, a lot of people heard about what happened to my daddy, and they wanted to know about it.”

  “Did it bother you, them asking you questions like that?” Wanda Nell asked. “You want me to call your teachers? Ask them to keep the other kids from pestering you?”

  “No, Mama,” Juliet said, examining her milk, “it’s okay, really. I can handle it.” Then she looked up at her mother and grinned. “But there’s one teacher you can call, if you want to. ’Cause he sure was asking about you today.”

  Wanda Nell got a fluttery feeling in her stomach. “What are you talking about, honey?”

  “Oh, my English teacher,” Juliet said airily, “Mr. Pemberton. He asked how I was doing, said he’d heard all about what happened, and he sure seemed interested. Especially in how you’re doing, Mama.” She watched her mother with a knowing look in her eyes.

  “Well, I’m sure he’s just being a concerned teacher,” Wanda Nell said, trying to sound offhand. “I seem to remember he’s a nice man.”

  “Uh-huh,” Juliet said, “like when you waited on him the other night at the Kountry Kitchen. He mentioned that, too.” Wanda Nell turned away, hoping Juliet wouldn’t see her blushing. She opened the refrigerator door and stuck her head inside, pretending to look for something. After a moment, when she thought the blush had subsided, she withdrew her head and shut the door. “I guess I need to put Cokes on the grocery list.”

  Juliet giggled. “Mama, there’s a whole bunch in the cabinet over there.”

  “Oh,” Wanda Nell said, feeling stupid. “Oh, well, then. I guess I better be getting on in to work. You girls gonna be okay here by yourselves tonight?”

  Juliet’s grin faded, but her chin took on a determined cast. “We’re going to be fine, Mama, don’t you worry about us. That man from the sheriff’s department’s going to be out there, isn’t he?