“You know, you’re really cute.”
“That’s exactly what that guy said last night,” I said and rolled my eyes. “The one that you are going to tell me about, if you ever get to it.” I looked at him, a silly grin started to spread across his face.
“Oh yeah, sorry,” he said still not losing the grin. “I’m going to tell you.”
“So tell me already.”
“Okay.” He chuckled. “I saw your orange car. Couldn’t miss it. Really who could miss that thing?” He pointed at my vehicle. “Why would you buy an orange car?”
“Geesh,” I said. “Your mind wanders as much as mine.”
He laughed. “How I know it was him, right? That’s what we’re talking about here. I know. Okay. I actually saw that black truck speeding up on you. I was coming down on the opposite side of the road. I remembered his truck from the other night. You know, from the parking lot. I probably wouldn’t have thought about it being him except for seeing your car too. At the same time.”
“You saw his car last night? Did you get his license plate number?”
“Yeah. No. Well yes to I saw him. I was there when he finally got up off the ground, humiliated I might add, and got into his truck and left. But no, I didn’t get his license number.”
“Did you see his face just now?”
“I got a glimpse of it.”
“A glimpse?”
“It was definitely him,” he said and nodded. “I’m sure of that.”
“That guy is crazy.” I shook my head and ran my hand over my hair. I guess I was looking pretty bad after my near brush with death. “He was stalking me.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that,” he said. “I don’t know about that though. Because like I said, you humiliated him pretty bad.” He gave me a look that said I should have known he would want to retaliate. “Probably was easy for him to notice you and that orange car of yours and make a quick decision to pay you back.”
“Yeah. I know orange is not a normal color for a car. You already said that. But I like it. And I’d like to think that I’m more than a normal kind of girl. I’d say I was anything but.”
“I’d agree with that.” He chuckled again. “So, looks like you need my help.” He pointed to my car.
“I do?” I said and looked where he’d indicated.
“Yeah. You can’t drive that car out of here, you could mess up stuff under the car.”
“Stuff?” I walked around the car to inspect it running my hand over the surface of it.
“Yeah,” he said, his eyes following me. “You know, the stuff under your car.” He hunched his shoulders. “The stuff that makes your car work.”
“Awww shoot!” I said as I made my way around the car and back to where he was standing. “You think it’s inoperable?” I bent over and glanced under the car. “Now I’ll have to call roadside service and pay . . . and oh!” I flapped my hands down to my sides and stomped my foot. “I am going to miss the sale at Dillard’s!”
“The sale at Dillard’s?” he repeated.
I waved a hand at him. I could almost feel the tears welling up in my eyes. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” he said and even had a look of sincerity on his face. But there was one thing I’d learned about men (courtesy of my grandpa) they did not understand the life and longings of a woman who appreciated the concept of designer wear.
I shook my head. “Never mind,” I told him swallowing back my disappointment. “I just need to get my car out of here.”
“I can help you,” he said. “Big Willie wouldn’t mind it if I borrow his flatbed to get you out of that ditch.”
“Who is Big Willie?”
“My dad.”
“You call your father, Big Willie?”
“Sure do.”
“And,” I raised an eyebrow, “are you Little Willie?”
“No.” He laughed. “Look, it won’t be any trouble. I’ll have one of the ranch hands get the flatbed. That way your car won’t be damaged when it gets pulled out.”
“I don’t know . . .” I was hesitant to agree to let him help me. What if he took me to some out of the way place and killed me? I glanced around, I’m sure there were a lot of backroads around.
“Don’t worry.” He held up both his hands and spoke as if he could read my thoughts. “I won’t try anything,” he said and put that silly grin back on his face. “I’ve seen you in action. I know not to mess with you.”
“Still, I don’t know,” I said and looked around. “Maybe I should just call.” I reached inside the open car window and grabbed my cell. “I mean, I don’t even know your name.”
“Liam,” he said and covered my phone with his hand. “My name is Liam Carter.” He stuck out his hand. “What’s your name?”
“Nixie Culpepper.”
“Cool,” he said then he put the palms of his hands together and bowed. “Nice to meet you, Ninja Nixie Culpepper. It is an honor to be in the presence of the Master Fighting Machine.”
I sucked my tongue and shook my head. It’s a good thing I liked corny.
Chapter Four
“What’s going on here?” I asked.
We’d driven in his shiny red F150 to his family “ranch.” A huge sprawl about five miles from where I’d gone off the road. Most of the land was spread out beyond the “homestead” as Liam called it, and all the land I could see he told me belonged to his family - The Carters.
As we pulled up the long dirt and gravel drive, I could see where lights had been strung around the large side yard. There were tables covered in bright yellow tablecloths with candles inside of glass jars set in the middle of each, and a stage had been erected off to one side like it was for a band.
“You having a party or something?” I asked.
"We’re having a little backyard party later on.”
“Who is we?”
“This is my family’s home and business,” he said a look of pride evident. “My dad, his second wife, my brother, stepbrother and his wife.”
“You all live here?”
“We’ve got eight bedrooms. Plus, my dad wouldn’t have it any other way.” He smiled. “He likes to be surrounded by people. This is just one of many get-togethers we have here on a regular basis. Big Willie loves to grill and invite folks over. He says it’s good for business.”
“Oh,” I said and glanced around. I wanted to take in a big whiff of the air to see if I could smell the cattle or horses or whatever it was the ranch was in the business of, but I thought that might be rude.
“But hey, we’ve got plenty of time before it starts to get you squared away,” he said and smiled. “You could even stick around and come join us, if you wanted?”
“To the party?” I said and scrunched up my nose.
“Yeah. That would be fun,” he said. “You know after we get your car out. You can meet my family -”
“I’m good,” I interjected and didn’t let him finish his sentence. “I don’t need to meet your family to get my car, do I? Although, I will pay your dad for the use of this flatbed.”
“And see our tiny houses,” he said finishing his sentence.
“What?”
“You don’t need to pay my dad,” he said. “He’d skin me alive if he thought I hadn’t helped a lady in need. Especially a pretty one.” He leaned over toward me and gently stroked my chin.
I narrowed my eyes at him.
He pulled back and grinned. “Especially one who can handle herself the way you can is what I meant to say.”
“No I meant what did you say? After I said I’d pay him. Something about tiny houses?”
“Oh yeah. It’s our family business. We build tiny houses. Look.” He pointed out across his expansive yard. “You can see the production and inventory barns from here.”
I took a look where he pointed. “They’re huge,” I said. “So that’s the business you have on this ranch? Building tiny houses?”
He nodded, a proud look on his face.
>
“How cool!” I said.
He chuckled. “How about if I get one of our guys to get the flatbed and get your car, then I’ll show you around.”
“Shouldn’t I go with him to see about my car?”
“No. These guys move houses across the country. They can handle your car. They’ll bring it back to you safe and sound. You want to see the houses, don’t you?”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
“Oh look, here comes Big Willie now.”
I turned to see the quintessential cowboy come from around the side of the house, but in miniature size. He had a moustache as thick and bristly as a bear’s hair. A cowboy hat to match Liam’s, a pair of Levi’s held up by a belt that had a buckle almost as wide as he was. This tiny guy picked the right business to go into, but I soon found that his size was the only thing small about him. There was nothing else tiny.
“Hey there, Liam, who you got there?” his father voiced boomed across the small space between us, he had a huge, animated smile on his face and an oversized cigar sticking out of his mouth.
“Daddy, this is Nixie Culpepper,” Liam said. “Her car ran off the road down on Carver’s Gully.” He gestured back toward the way we’d come. “We’re going to get the flatbed and pull her out.” Liam turned to me. “This is Big Willie Carter.”
“Well, ain’t she a pretty little darling,’” Big Willie said. He took of his cowboy hat and took my hand, holding it. “Glad we can be of service to you.”
“I was just going to take her over to show her the tiny houses,” Liam told his dad.
Big Willie stuck out an arm for me to hold, and pulled the cigar out of his mouth. “I’ll be glad to show her around while you get somebody to go get her car. I just told everybody in the house I was headed down there.” He nodded. “Meet us by the inventory pool, Liam. And get Jimmy,” he told Liam and blew a ball of smoke out of his mouth. “He’ll be able to get you going in no time,” he explained. “He’s the best mechanic around here. If there’s anything wrong, he can fix it for you.”
“Thank you,” I said. Liam was right, his father’s generosity was as big as his personality.
“Liam, you think there’s any damage to it?” Big Willie asked.
“I don’t think so, Big Willie. Just ended up resting in that ditch. Right side up which was a good thing for her. Thought it might be better to tow it out instead of trying to drive it though.”
“What kind of car is it?” Big Willie asked.
“A Chevy Sonic,” I said.
“An orange Chevy Sonic,” Liam added.
Big Willie let out a whale of a laugh. “Ain’t that just the cutest thing. Pretty little thing like you driving a piece of fruit.”
“I like it,” I said getting a little perturbed having to keep answering for my car color choices.
“I just bet you do,” Big Willie said and chuckled. “Sweet little thang, ain’t she Liam?”
“I don’t know, Big Willie. I saw her floor a man last night at Mollie Fontaine’s. Flipped him over and stuck her foot in his throat in one fell swoop.”
Big Willie eyed me then a big grin crossed his face. “Feisty too? I’m liking you more and more with each minute I see you. C’mon girl. I’ve got the perfect little house for you. And you ain’t gonna believe this,” he squeezed my shoulder, pulling me toward him. “It’s orange, too. It was meant for you. Let’s see if I can’t cut you a good deal on it.”
“She’s only here for us to help her get her car out of the ditch, Big Willie. Not to buy a house.”
“How you know what’s in this girl’s mind, boy? I know what every pretty woman wants. And I know that everyone, pretty or not, could use a tiny house.”
“Be careful, Nixie,” Liam said shaking his head. “Big Willie could sell the Mona Lisa to da Vinci.”
“I ain’t gonna have to do much selling on this one. It’s perfect for her and I want her to have it.” He nodded his head at Liam. “You hear me?”
“I hear you, Big Willie.”
“And you best believe I ain’t letting her leave without it – that’s a promise.” Big Willie smiled up at me. With my four inch heels, on my 5’3” inch frame, I towered over him, yet it still felt like I was next to a big man.
“Now go on, boy,” Big Willie said to Liam. “Dale and Jacob went to deliver a house. Jimmy’s the only one that’s available. Tell him I said to go fetch her car and to make haste. Then tell him where he can find it. I’ma take her over to the production area and show her around before I show her the one I got for her. Bet she’ll love seeing how we build ‘em.”
We headed off, and for an older man, Big Willie moved at a good pace. I almost had to trot to keep up with him. But as we rounded the ranch-style house, he slowed and watched as a blonde woman directed a dark haired Hispanic woman. The dark haired woman was setting the tables I’d noticed when we drove in.
The woman who appeared to be in charge could have been my best friend, if the way you’d pick one is how you dress (I didn’t have a best friend, but I’d love to make her mine). This lady was a woman after my own heart.
Dressed in designer wear from head to foot, she could have left that backyard and, without changing a thing, walked down the runway in any fashion show for any designers’ collection in any fashion capital in the world.
Oh yeah, I was impressed.
In fact, I’d seen the Boutique Moschino embroidered pink and black skirt she was wearing in stock photos from Paris Fashion Week.
I could swear the skirt was from the “coming” year’s line.
This woman was ahead of her time – fashion wise.
Pink Prada blouse, black Louboutin shoes. I was salivating. They were the same Louboutin’s that I had longed for – the Escarpic – a 4” inch heeled, black quartz suede shoe with metallic Poseidon spike dégradé and the iconic red sole. And I was standing so close to them, I could almost reach out and touch them. And really, I would have fallen down on my knees right at that moment just to touch them if I hadn’t thought they might have me committed.
Those Christian Louboutin shoes were heaven on earth. But woe is me, I would live in a constant turmoil
if I thought they could ever be mine. I probably wouldn’t even be able to afford them if I saved until I was thirty-five (of course by then they’d be out of style).
Was Liam and his family that rich that she could dress like that for an outdoor party?
Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him . . .
“Cynthia,” Big Willie said, pulling in a breath and speaking her name as he blew it out.
“Hi honey,” she said, a drawl seeping out through her raspberry frost-colored lips. “Are guests arriving already?” That made the Hispanic woman stop her work and look over at me.
Cynthia, at her comment, eyed me with disdain until she reached my feet and my saw my Salvatore Ferragamo Rounded Toe Bow Pumps, then her gaze moved back up to my face and she smiled.
“Well, hello there.” Now she greeted me a smile. “Who is this, dear?” She looked at Big Willie.
“She’s a friend of Liam’s.”
“Well not really a fri-” I started to answer.
“How nice,” she said, interrupting me, a wide smile on her face. “I hope you’re coming to the party.” I opened my mouth to answer, but she kept talking. How rude. Glancing over at the woman that was setting the tables, I could see her shaking her head. We must have been thinking the same thing.
“I’m Cynthia Carter,” she said. “Big Willie’s wife.” She sashayed with her long lean legs over to him and looped her large carat, tennis-braceleted arm through his, and swiped down his chest with her other hand. “And we’d loved it if you stayed. Any friend of Liam’s is a friend of the family.”
“Of course she’s welcome to stay,” Big Willie said. “I’m sure Liam told her that. Right now, she needs help with her car.”
“Well get her some help,” Cynthia said. “It’s not in our nature not to help a family friend i
n need. We have. So we have to give back.”
That made Hispanic lady’s head pop up again. She gave Big Willie a grimace, which I’m sure he didn’t see. I guessed she agreed with Cynthia.
Big Willie took in a breath. “I’ve already got help in the works for her,” he said. “Help is pretty scarce around here today, everybody’s gone home to get ready for the cookout. But I told Liam to get Jimmy to take the flatbed over by Carver’s Gully and pick it up. And while she’s waiting I’m going to take her over to show her that little orange house that Dale just finished up. Help her calm down from going over into that embankment.”
“Oh my!” Cynthia covered her mouth with her hand as if she’d just heard that I’d died. “Are you okay . . . Uhm . . . What did you say your name was?” She looked at me then up at Big Willie.
“Well, I didn’t say-”
A landline phone started ringing over by the stone bar that appeared to be a permanent structure.
“I declare,” Cynthia said. “That phone has been ringing all morning.” She swung her head around to look at the phone then back to us, her blond hair swinging behind her. “I really need to get that.” She pointed her finger at me. “Hope to see you later.”
“Okay, thanks-”
“Oh, Sweetie,” she said, cutting me off again. She headed over to the phone, talking to Big Willie as she walked. “Your cousin called and wanted to know if he could bring three extra people . . . Hello . . .” she picked up the phone not finishing her sentence or giving Big Willie time to give her an answer about the extra guests.
Chapter Five
“These tiny houses are so cute!” I said. My beaming smile radiating all through my body. “Aren’t they just the cutest things?” I practically took off skipping (which was a miracle because by legs were tired trying to walk over the dirt and grass to the work area) to inspect the marvel of living tiny.
“I don’t think I’ve ever referred to them quite that way,” Big Willie said. “But hey, if’n that’s what you think about them, I ain’t one to argue. Especially if it means a sale.”
I really was giddy over them. He’d brought me into a huge warehouse-like barn with maybe a dozen houses inside all spanking new.
A Tiny Collierville Murder Page 3
