Flamingo Fatale (A Trailer Park Mystery Book 1)

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Flamingo Fatale (A Trailer Park Mystery Book 1) Page 11

by Jimmie Ruth Evans


  She did check on him several times after bringing him his food, and once he asked for more tea. She paused for a moment at the table after filling up his glass, and he asked her how Juliet was doing.

  “Fine, far’s I can tell,” Wanda Nell said. “Did the kids at school bother her today? You know, asking her about her daddy and everything?”

  “Maybe a little,” Pemberton said with a frown, “but Juliet seemed to be handling it pretty well. She’s sharp, Mrs. Culpepper, and she knows when to ask for help.”

  “That’s good,” Wanda Nell said. “I don’t want those kids pestering her.”

  “We won’t let them,” Pemberton promised.

  “Thanks,” Wanda Nell said. She left him glancing through the notebook he’d had with him two nights ago. Maybe he was writing a book, she decided, then forgot about it as she got busy again with her other tables.

  The next time Wanda Nell caught sight of a clock, it was almost eight. Two more hours to go, and then it would be time to change clothes and head for her shift at Budget Mart. She went to the back dining room to make another check of her tables there, where Jack Pemberton still sat, staring off into space. There was a momentary lull as the crowd thinned out a bit, and Wanda Nell grabbed a tea pitcher and approached Pemberton’s table.

  “How about some more tea?”

  Startled, Pemberton glanced up at her. “Sure. One more, and that’s my limit.”

  “Yeah, you gotta be careful about hitting the hard stuff,” Wanda Nell joked as she topped up the glass.

  Pemberton laughed, a deep rumble which Wanda Nell found very attractive.

  “Mrs. Culpepper,” he said, as she started to turn away.

  “Yes,” Wanda Nell prompted when he didn’t say anything.

  “Um, I was wondering,” he said, fidgeting with his note-book and not looking directly at her, “if there’s anything I can do to help. I mean, if you need...” His voice trailed off. He stood up abruptly. “What I mean to say is, could I call you sometime? Maybe you’d like to go out for dinner or a movie sometime?”

  His eyes held hope, but at the same time, the way he was standing, he was ready for rejection. Wanda Nell was touched by his sweetness and uncertainty.

  “I’d like that,” she said, and his face lit up.

  “Great. Um, well, I guess I’d better be going.” He grabbed his notebook from the table. “When is a good time to call?”

  “Afternoons,” Wanda Nell said. “And I’m in the phone book.”

  “Right,” Pemberton replied, offering her his shy smile once more. “Guess I’d better be going, then. Good night.”

  “Good night,” Wanda Nell said, then busied herself with his table so she wouldn’t stand there like an idiot, watching him walk away.

  She hummed a little as she cleared the table and pocketed the nice tip he had left her. Maybe the sun was peeking around that old black cloud a little bit after all.

  After Jack Pemberton left the Kountry Kitchen, Wanda Nell began to get busy again, as the final wave of evening customers came in. She was in a much better mood than she had been, and she stayed out of Fayetta’s way as much as possible. She wanted to avoid any more ugliness if she could manage it, and Ruby Gamer, bless her heart, helped keep her and Fayetta from having to speak directly to each other.

  A little after nine Wanda Nell came back from the kitchen to find a young woman sitting alone at one of her tables. Wanda Nell thought she looked awfully familiar, but she couldn’t place her at first. It was only when she handed the young woman a menu and looked directly into her face that she realized she knew her.

  “Evening, Deputy Taylor,” Wanda Nell said. “I didn’t recognize you for a minute there, you not being in your uniform.”

  Deputy Taylor grimaced. “Yeah, I know. It always takes people a minute when they’re not used to seeing me dressed like normal people.” She laughed.

  Wanda Nell smiled. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Got any decaf coffee?”

  “Sure,” Wanda Nell said. “Be right back with it.”

  “And lots of cream,” Deputy Taylor called after her. When Wanda Nell came back to the table with the coffee and a small pitcher of cream, Deputy Taylor put down her menu and stared up at Wanda Nell. In a normal tone of voice, she said, “I’ll have a cheeseburger, well done, everything on it, with French fries.” Then, while Wanda Nell was jotting down the order, she continued in a much lower tone, “Can I talk to you, Miz Culpepper? I mean, in private?” What on earth does she want? Wanda Nell wondered. “That’ll be right out,” she said. Matching the deputy’s lowered voice, she went on, “There’s a door around back, where I used to go to smoke. I’ll meet you there after you’ve eaten.”

  Deputy Taylor nodded very slightly, and Wanda Nell went to the kitchen to turn in the order. As she worked, Wanda Nell kept on puzzling over what the deputy wanted to talk to her about in private like that. It felt like something out of a spy novel, Wanda Nell decided. The question was, whose side was the deputy on? Was she playing some game Elmer Lee had put her on to, like maybe trying to catch his chief suspect in some lie? Or was she simply trying to help Wanda Nell because she despised Elmer Lee as much as Wanda Nell did?

  Wanda Nell puzzled over it a while longer, then decided she wasn’t doing any good, letting herself being distracted from her work. She kept an eye on the deputy, and when the young woman had finished her food and picked up her check, she walked by.

  “I’ll meet you around back in about five minutes,” Wanda Nell said quietly.

  Deputy Taylor nodded once, then said, “I enjoyed that. Y’all make great cheeseburgers here.” She headed off for the cash register.

  Wanda Nell made a quick circuit of her tables, and it looked like they could all manage for a few minutes without her. She caught Ruby in the back dining room and said, “Can you cover for me for a few minutes? I won’t be long.” “Sure, Wanda Nell,” Ruby said. “Things are slowing down anyway. Take your time.”

  Wanda Nell flashed her a smile of thanks. She ignored Fayetta, standing at the counter and jawing away with some greasy old guy she flirted with every Friday night, and went through the kitchen and down the hall. If she was lucky, Melvin would stay out by the cash register long enough for her to have her little talk with the deputy.

  When she got to the back door, she peered outside. The light was dim back here, and at first she thought the deputy hadn’t found the door. But suddenly the young woman ap-peared out of the darkness, and Wanda Nell stepped back, startled.

  “Sorry,” the deputy said. “I was just trying to keep out of the light till I saw you.”

  “That’s okay,” Wanda Nell said, leaning tiredly against the door frame. As she watched, her little stray feline friend appeared from around the Dumpster and came meowing his way toward her.

  “Sorry, buddy,” Wanda Nell said, reaching down to rub his head. “I don’t have anything for you right this minute, but I’ll get you something soon.” The cat kept purring as he stretched out on the pavement near her. Wanda Nell shook her head at him. Sooner or later she was going to end up taking him home, she just knew it.

  Deputy Taylor had been watching all this a bit impatiently. “Miz Culpepper, I want to talk to you, and I need to talk fast.” She hesitated. “I really shouldn’t be doing this, but, well, I guess I’m doing it anyway.”

  “Exactly what is it you’re doing?” Wanda Nell asked, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Talking to you like this, informally. I could get in trouble if Deputy Johnson found out about this.”

  “I don’t expect I’m going to tell him, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Wanda Nell replied. Why wouldn’t the girl get to the point?

  Some of her irritation must have communicated itself to the deputy. Taylor shrugged, then said, “So be it, I guess. Look, I don’t think you killed your husband, but Deputy Johnson is convinced you did. He’s doing everything he can to find the evidence to arrest you with, and if someone
don’t come up with something else, another suspect, then he’s going to try to pin this on you.”

  Wanda Nell wasn’t surprised. She knew what Elmer Lee was capable of, and she hadn’t expected anything less. “I know. But I do have an alibi for that night, and surely even Elmer Lee is going to have to see that, at some point.”

  “You do have an alibi, up to a point, Miz Culpepper,” Deputy Taylor responded. “You’re covered most of the night. “We checked with the folks at Budget Mart, and they can account for you from the time you signed in till the time you left the next morning.”

  “Isn’t that enough?”

  Deputy Taylor shrugged. “It’s enough for me, certainly. But there’s just enough gap in the time from when you said you last saw your husband alive until you arrived at Budget Mart. That’s the time the Deputy Johnson is concentrating on. He thinks that’s when you killed your husband.”

  Wanda Nell sagged against the door frame. “There’s got to be something to show I didn’t kill him.” She thought for a moment. “Do y’all know yet when he died? Surely it had to be some time after I saw him, when I would’ve been at work already.”

  Deputy Taylor shrugged. “We’re not gonna have results back from the state crime lab for at least a week, if not longer. And the doctor we got out there to look at the body seemed to think he had been dead anywhere from five to twelve hours.”

  Wanda Nell thought about that for a moment, figuring out the times. “Damn it. No wonder Elmer Lee thinks I did it.”

  “Yeah, you see the problem. Until we get those results from the state lab, you’re pretty much going to remain the chief suspect.”

  “Then why are you so convinced I didn’t do it?” Wanda Nell demanded harshly. “Why aren’t you helping Elmer Lee haul me off to jail?”

  A smile passed briefly across the deputy’s face, then disappeared. “Coupla reasons, I guess. For one thing, I just don’t think you could do it. Physically, I mean.” She frowned. “You’d either’ve had to knock him on the head and drag his body out into the woods—which we know you didn’t do, because there aren’t any traces of that. Or you’d’ve had to lure him out in the woods, knock him on the head with something, and then thrust that flamingo through his neck.”

  Hearing the deputy speak so plainly about something so awful made Wanda Nell’s stomach turn. She stared at the younger woman.

  “Sorry,” Deputy Taylor muttered. “Anyway, physically, that murder took a fair amount of strength. I’ll bet you’re pretty strong, but I just don’t think you’re strong enough. And I can’t see your ex-husband letting you lure him out into the woods. That part just don’t make much sense to me.”

  “You got that right,” Wanda Nell said. “Bobby Ray knew me well enough, he wouldn’t have fallen for some kind of come-on from me to get him out in those woods. Elmer Lee oughta know better.”

  “Yeah, he oughta,” the deputy agreed. ‘Trouble is, he’s got a one-track mind, and he don’t like anybody trying to derail it. He’s got you lined up for this murder, and he’s probably gonna arrest you tomorrow, if nothing else turns up.” “Why hasn’t he arrested me already?”

  “The sheriff,” Deputy Taylor said. “Something to do, from what I’ve overheard, with your daddy and the sheriff being friends some time ago.”

  “Yeah,” Wanda Nell said faintly. “They used to be real good buddies, once. I’m glad the sheriff still remembers that.” “You’re sure lucky he does,” the deputy said, “or you’d probably be in jail right this minute. But he don’t believe you did it, and neither do I.” She paused for a moment. ‘Trouble is, who else is there? We need somebody else to be looking for.”

  “What about those men that broke into my home and terrified my girls?” Wanda Nell demanded. “Why aren’t y’all looking for them?”

  “We are, Miz Culpepper, but so far we haven’t found a trace of them anywhere.”

  “Then y’all aren’t looking hard enough. Y’all need to be looking into what Bobby Ray was doing before he came back to Tullahoma. It’s got to have something to do with that.” In her mind, she saw again that big wad of cash Bobby Ray had been flashing around. And she remembered her conversation with Ricky Ratliff about Bobby Ray and his money.

  “What is it?” the deputy asked, who was watching her closely. “You’ve thought of something.”

  Wanda Nell regarded her for a moment. Could she really trust her? She didn’t have much choice, she decided.

  “Another one of my ex’s old buddies,” Wanda Nell said, “Ricky Ratliff. He’s the night supervisor at Budget Mart. You need to talk to him. He knows something about what Bobby Ray’d been up to, and I bet you anything he knows something about those men y’all can’t seem to find.”

  Deputy Taylor exhaled a loud breath. “Then that’s some-thing to go on. We’ll be talking to this Ratliff, I can promise you that.” Abruptly she faded into the darkness.

  “Who you talking to, Wanda Nell?”

  Melvin Arbuckle had come up behind her, and she’d never even heard him. She just hoped he hadn’t heard any of her conversation with the deputy.

  Wanda Nell pointed down at the cat, still purring at her feet. “Just this little guy. I been promising him I’d go back in the kitchen and fetch him something good to eat.” She smiled at Melvin. “I guess I’m just gonna have to give in and take him home with me.”

  “Lucky cat if you do,” Melvin said. He moved past her and flicked open his lighter. The flame sparked, and he exhaled a cloud of smoke.

  “Maybe,” Wanda Nell said. “I’ll be right back.”

  In the kitchen she found some scraps of chicken for the cat and dumped them into a napkin. When she returned to the back door, she found Melvin squatting beside the cat, scratching him between the ears.

  “And here I thought you didn’t like cats,” Wanda Nell said, dropping the bits of chicken onto the pavement.

  The cat leapt up and greedily began to eat. Melvin stood up and took a couple of steps away. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know,” he said. “But if you ever wanna know, I’ll be happy to let you in on it all.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Wanda Nell said in a neutral tone. She watched the cat for a moment “Okay, boy, that’s it for now. You hang around another day or two, and I might adopt you.”

  The cat sat licking its whiskers for a moment then he trot-ted off behind the Dumpster and disappeared.

  “I’d better be getting back to work,” Wanda Nell said as she turned to go. “It’s just about time to start closing up.”

  “Wanda Nell,” Melvin said.

  She stopped and turned back to look at him.

  “Remember what I said.” Melvin stared hard at her. “If you need help with something, you let me know.”

  “I will. Thank you.” She smiled briefly before turning away again.

  Back in the dining room Wanda Nell helped Ruby and Fayetta clear tables as the last customers departed. Then they all spent a few minutes doing some of the necessary side work so that the morning crew would be ready to open at six the next morning. -

  At last they were done. All the tables were clean, every-thing set up for the next day, and Wanda Nell quickly changed into her clothes for her shift at Budget Mart.

  When she drove into the parking lot at Budget Mart, she parked underneath one of the big lights near the door. Keeping a careful eye out for anyone who might try to come up on her, especially old women in big Cadillacs, she scurried for the door.

  She concentrated on her work, refusing to let herself get sidetracked by worries about what Elmer Lee was planning to do. If he arrested her, she’d figure out something. But no use borrowing trouble before she had to. Maybe she was being foolish, but that was just the way it was going to be. She still had a hard time believing Elmer Lee would actually arrest her.

  When the time came for her to clock out, she was ready to head home and fall into bed. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Ricky all night, and that was fine by her. Now that she’d put t
he deputy on to him, she was going to stay out of his way. Let Deputy Taylor see what she could get out of him. Wanda Nell had to smile at the thought of Ricky trying to pull some of his good ol’ boy sexist crap with the young deputy.

  KeShawn saw her safely to her car, and she patted him gratefully on the arm. Thank the Lord old Mrs. Culpepper hadn’t shown up again, though Wanda Nell wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if she had been out there waiting in the parking lot.

  The road was quiet as Wanda Nell drove homeward. Not too many people out yet in Tullahoma this early on a Saturday morning. As she turned off the highway onto the road leading to the trailer park, she squinted into the sun. She thought she recognized a truck headed in her direction.

  Wanda Nell stopped her car, rolled down the window, and waved frantically to stop the approaching truck. She waited, and the truck rolled to a stop beside her. The driver rolled down his window, stuck his head out, and said, “Hey there, Wanda Nell. What’s going on? You having car trouble?” Wanda Nell smiled up at her friendly neighbor. “No, Jim Ed. The car’s fine. I just need to talk to you, if you got a minute.”

  “Sure,” Jim Ed Woods said. “I got a minute. What’s on your mind?”

  “I guess you heard about what happened?”

  Jim Ed frowned. “You mean about that dead body they found in the woods out by the trailer park? Yeah, I just heard about it last night. I was on a run down to New Orleans and back yesterday, and my wife told me about it when I got back.”

  “So the sheriff’s department didn’t talk to you yesterday?”

  “Nope,” Jim Ed replied. “Not yet.”

  Wanda Nell crossed her fingers. Maybe Jim Ed was the one neighbor who might have seen something the night Bobby Ray was killed.

  “Were you at home Wednesday night?” Wanda Nell asked.

  “Yeah, I got back from a run about two A.M. or thereabouts,” Jim Ed answered after thinking about it a moment.

  “When you got back home, did you see anything strange? I mean, like a car or truck you didn’t recognize, anything like that?”

  Jim Ed frowned, deep lines creasing his forehead. “Yeah, come to think of it, I did see something.”

 

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