Trailer Trash (Neely Kate Mystery Book 1)

by Denise Grover Swank

  Jed seemed to consider my words. “Maybe. But it doesn’t fully explain why he’d keep something so important from me.”

  I glanced out the window. “Rose doesn’t know about this part of my life, and I don’t want her to ever know.”

  “But you’re telling me.”

  I turned back to him. “And I’m dolin’ it out piece by piece. Maybe that’s how Skeeter did it . . . with Rose.”

  Jed didn’t look any happier.

  “Maybe we need different friends for different things,” I said. “I don’t know why I feel more comfortable sharing this part of my life with you . . . Maybe it’s because you’re more worldly when it comes to seedy doin’s. Or maybe it’s because Rose has always believed in the sugar-spun version of me, and I can’t stand smashin’ that image to bits. But I do know that I always feel like I’m pretending, like someone’s gonna point at me and shout, ‘She’s not wearin’ any clothes.’”

  He frowned. “Because you were a dancer?”

  I laughed. “No. Because of the story of the emperor’s new clothes.”

  He gave me a blank look.

  “You know . . . the story about the emperor who gets bamboozled by some tailors who claim they can make a suit only smart people can see. Only, there is no suit and they charge him a lot of money, and the king won’t call ’em on it because he doesn’t want to look stupid.”

  “Anyone who would fall for such bullshit is stupid.”

  I laughed. “It’s no different than a princess sleepin’ on a stack of mattresses on top of a pea to prove she’s royalty. They’re fairy tales.”

  His frown deepened. “There’s no room for fairy tales in my life.”

  I held his gaze. “Maybe it’s time you started makin’ room for them.”

  His expression softened and the hint of a smile appeared just as the waitress showed up to take our order. When she left, Jed turned back to his computer.

  I let the subject of Skeeter drop. Jed Carlisle didn’t strike me as a man who went around talking about his feelings. I was lucky to get what I had out of him.

  A few minutes later, with his eyes still on the screen, he said, “Based on satellite maps, the Shenandoah Apartment complex looks fairly small, which means it will be easier for us to figure out where she lives. She has a baby, which should make it even easier. What does Stella look like?”

  “She looked like a model. Tall and thin, with long, shiny blond hair. She was a favorite at the club. Men would go in on her nights just to see her. She’s gorgeous . . . or at least she used to be . . .”

  He picked up on my train of thought. “Zelda suggested she’s an addict. What would she be using?”

  “Meth,” I said. “She used it before. She liked it. A lot. But she fought it.” I looked up at him. “So she might not be as pretty as she used to be.”

  He nodded.

  The waitress showed up with our food, and I let out a little laugh when she set the large salad bowl in front of Jed.

  “What?” he asked as she walked away.

  I picked up a fry from the pile next to my BLT sandwich. “You don’t look like you need to go on a diet.”

  He had a playful look that made him seem years younger and more carefree. “Have you been checking me out, Neely Kate?”

  “It was hard not to notice there wasn’t an ounce of fat on you this morning . . .” I let my voice trail off suggestively, but I was grinning like a fool. Jed made me feel like the seventeen-year-old version of myself, the one who had compartmentalized all the crap from her past and pretended it never existed. The one who had foolhardily believed in love and romance and happily-ever-afters.

  But that seemed crazy, in and of itself. Jed was seeing the ugliest bits of me. So why did I feel so much lighter with him? Why did this feel okay?

  Belatedly, I worried that reminding him of this morning would make him turn surly again—just like he had after our second kiss—but he grinned back at me. “Maybe I’m tryin’ to be healthy.” He pointed to my plate with his fork. “Maybe I don’t want to clog my arteries.”

  I laughed and ate another fry.

  We turned quiet for a minute as I took several bites of my sandwich and Jed ate his salad, which I had to confess looked delicious. I picked up my fork and stabbed it into his bowl, fishing out a piece of chicken along with some lettuce and a piece of apple.

  “Umm . . . this is pretty good.”

  He laughed. “You want more?”

  I took another bite, and he reached over and picked up half my sandwich.

  It was such a simple thing, but the unstudied intimacy of it floored me.

  Not the time or the place, Neely Kate. Here I was back in Ardmore, Oklahoma, reopening my own version of hell, but I was flirting with Jed over a stupid salad and a sandwich. Still, there was no denying he was keeping me suspended above all the bad memories rather than lost in the thick of them. I wanted him to stay—and our visit to Stella would help determine if he could handle the rest of it.

  He noticed the change in my mood. “You thinkin’ about Stella?”

  I stabbed my fork into his salad bowl again and nodded. “Yeah.”

  “How close were you?”

  “Close. Or so I thought. After Momma dumped me on my granny, I had a lot of friends in school, but it’s easy to keep people at a distance when you’re popular.” I realized now that I’d held them back out of necessity. “I never had a close friend until Stella.”

  “And Stella helped you get the job at Slick Willy’s?”

  I nodded. “Zelda tried to stop me, even though she pretended to believe we were working at a bar. I’m not surprised she knew. She was lettin’ us keep our dignity.” I paused. “Or more accurately, me. Stella wasn’t ashamed.”

  “If you were so reluctant to do it, how did you handle the job after you started?” he asked, lowering his voice. “Some of the girls at the Bunny Ranch take to it like ducks to water, like Stella probably did. But some of them only stay because they’re desperate. You can always see it in their eyes. The Ranch is literally the last place on earth they would choose to work, but they need the money too much to leave.” He paused, looking uncomfortable. “The customers notice, of course, and those girls make less tip money. When that happens, I always try to quietly find the girl another job. Working as a waitress or a maid doesn’t pay as much as the successful performers in the club rake in, but those girls never get to be top earners anyway. Plus, they don’t feel like they’re selling their souls for a wad of one-dollar bills.”

  He stared at his salad, looking embarrassed, but I was staring at him. This was further proof of what a good man he was. Leaving Skeeter was the right move for Jed. Granted, Skeeter Malcolm was a better man than I’d expected. Jed and Rose had made me realize he had morals of a kind, a rarity for someone in his position. Still, I knew in my heart that Jed deserved better. Something told me he felt like he was selling his soul, just like those girls at the Bunny Ranch did. Only, I suspected Jed did it out of loyalty.

  “It was hard for me at first,” I said, picking up my half of the sandwich. “But I got used to it. I just had to become the person I created on stage, and when I left, I left her there.” I shrugged. “It wasn’t that hard. I was used to pretending to be someone I wasn’t.”

  “Kitty?”

  I gave him a wry smile. “Yeah, Stan gave me that name. He could see how shy I was when he interviewed me. He said I was as innocent as a newborn kitten.”

  “How long did you work there?”

  I shuddered. “Nineteen months.”

  “And you worked there until you left town? Stan said you took off after something big happened. You said it was after Branson cheated on you with your best friend. Stella.”

  I knew it would be easier to come clean, but I still wasn’t ready to face what happened the day before I left, let alone tell Jed.

  “How long had Branson been your boyfriend?”

  I released a bitter laugh. “That depends on how you look at
it. Did I stop calling him my boyfriend the day I left, or somewhere around the middle when he started doing things to me that no real boyfriend would ever do?”

  “The cheating?”

  “Yeah. But that was only one small part. The others were worse.”

  He let that sink in, and I could see he was full of questions, so I was surprised by the one he chose, the most innocuous of all. “And Stella was one of the women he cheated with?”

  I sat back in my seat, my greasy french fries not settling well. “Yeah.”

  “When was the last time you saw Stella?”

  “The day before I left.”

  “The day something big happened.”

  “She doesn’t know everything.” My hands began to shake, so I put them under the table. “She only knows parts.”

  “Does anyone besides you know everything?” Jed asked.

  A tsunami of guilt crashed into me. “Beasley.” Tears filled my eyes as I said his name.

  Jed studied me for several seconds. What was he thinking? He knew Beasley had gone to prison. Did he realize it should have been me?

  He closed his laptop and started to slide out of his seat. I knew in my gut this was it—this was when he left me. But he surprised me once again by moving to my side of the booth and sliding in next to me. Without a word, he wrapped an arm around my back and pulled me to his side, my head resting on his shoulder. Out of instinct, I wrapped an arm over his stomach and held him close.

  We sat like that for a couple of minutes. The waitress came back to check on us, but Jed told her we were good and sent her away.

  “How much danger are you in?” Jed finally asked. “People are looking for you. I suspect the woman was Kate, but I doubt that guy was a cop. The question is, who was he?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Was there anything to his missing persons line of questioning?”

  I hesitated. “Maybe.”

  “Was the missing person he was asking about you?”

  “No.”

  He was quiet for several seconds. “Can it be traced to you?”

  I hesitated again. “Maybe.”

  I thought he’d press me for more information, but he went down a different path. “Kate was here asking questions before she showed up in Henryetta at the end of December. Which only supports the idea that J.R. found you thirteen years ago and that your mother ran because of it. Is it possible she might have kicked a few sleeping dogs in regard to what happened when you left five years ago?”

  “Yes.” There was one common denominator in all of this, and I was going to have to face him again, sooner rather than later. “After we talk to Stella, we need to find Beasley.”

  “I know he was in prison. What was he convicted of?”

  My anxiety skyrocketed, and Jed held me tighter.

  “You don’t have to tell me yet.”

  “But I do.”

  “Do I need to know before we talk to Stella?”

  “She’ll probably mention it.”

  “Are you opposed to me finding out from her instead of you?”

  I needed to face this head-on, but learning about Beasley’s conviction would probably only confuse him. Besides, call me a masochist, but better for him to learn that and plenty more from Stella. The ugly truths he’d already learned were only the tip of the iceberg.

  I sighed. “I don’t know.”

  “You seemed surprised when Kate told you that Beasley was out of prison. How long was his sentence?”

  “Fifteen years.”

  “So he could have gotten out on good behavior,” Jed said. “Or he could have gotten out due to outside influence.”

  I gasped and sat up. How had I failed to consider that? “Kate?”

  “Maybe. Was he incarcerated in Oklahoma?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Kate would have had more influence in Arkansas, but a lot of her strings must have snapped after her father’s downfall.”

  My father’s downfall.

  “Still,” he said, “I wouldn’t put it past her.” He paused and then his voice softened. “I know you’re reluctant to give me details, but I’d like to look into his release and see if anything looks suspicious. To do that, I need to know his full name and what he was convicted of.” Another moment of silence hung between us before he continued. “Neely Kate, I need to ask you something else. I noticed your reaction when Kate mentioned his release. Should we be worried for your safety in regard to Beasley? Will he come after you?”

  Once, I would have said no. We’d maintained regular contact for years, and even two years ago, he’d eagerly accepted my calls. Something had changed, though—and abruptly—about a year ago. He wouldn’t talk to me on the phone anymore, wouldn’t answer my notes. “I’m not sure.”

  His body tensed. “Do you think he’s here in Ardmore now?”

  “I don’t know. He had some family here, so maybe. All I know is that I need to talk to him.” I paused. “He’s the only one who knows about the azaleas.”

  “Okay,” he said matter-of-factly. “So he goes on the list of people to talk to.” He considered something, then asked, “Were Stella and Beasley close?”

  “No. They couldn’t stand each other, but they were kind of stuck together.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Stella was my best friend and Beasley was Branson’s brother.”

  “And where’s Branson?”

  “I don’t know.”

  And I hoped I never found out.

  Chapter 16

  A half hour later, we were parked at the Shenandoah Apartments complex. The place had seen better days. The paint was peeling off the siding, and the playground equipment was missing the swing. The apartments all had outside entrances, and the doors all had peeling paint. Stella would hate living in a dump like this.

  “So what’s the plan?” I asked.

  “People fall for free crap all the time. All we have to do is start knocking on doors and telling people that Stella’s won a contest for free diapers for a year. Most people will fall all over themselves to let us know where she is. But it will work better if you do it. They’ll trust you more than they do me.”

  It was pretty brilliant. “I take it you’ve used something like this before?”

  “Multiple times. It’s effective.”

  I filed that idea away for future reference. It might come in handy if I could convince Rose to open our own investigation business. Jed might have all kinds of helpful ideas for us.

  I was thinking about a future with Rose. I took that as a good sign. I cast a glance over at the man next to me, realizing he’d given me a hope that I could actually fix this.

  “Okay. Any suggestions for where to start?”

  “The first apartment, and hope you find someone who knows sooner rather than later. The problem with these kinds of places is the neighbors often don’t know much about one another. They tend to keep to themselves.”

  “Then let’s get started. Why do you look so nervous?”

  He suddenly looked like a surprisingly buff actor in a commercial for constipation medication.

  “It will work better if you’re alone, but after hearing that someone was looking for you, I’m hesitant to let you go without me.”

  I opened the car door. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll be watching you. So don’t try to run off.”

  My mouth parted to ask him what in tarnation he was talking about, but then I realized he had every right to be concerned. Rose and I had, on more than one occasion, purposely lost him while he was tailing us. I offered him a sweet smile. “I won’t.”

  He looked even more suspicious. “Whatever you do, don’t go in anyone’s apartment.”

  “I’m not stupid, Jed.”

  “I know you’re not, but I also know you have a big heart. Your kindness might overshadow your sense of self-preservation.”

  I gave him a questioning look.

  “Elderly people tend to live in lower-i
ncome places. They’re lonely, and they’ll see your friendly face . . .”

  “And you think I’ll go in to keep them company.”

  “Yeah. But don’t. Stick to the task.”

  I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

  “What was that for?”

  “For being you. Thank you.” I bolted from the car before he could say anything.

  My cell phone rang seconds after I bolted, and I wasn’t surprised to see Jed’s name on the screen.

  “I can do this, Jed.”

  “If I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t have sent you to do it. But I want you to leave our call going so I can hear what’s going on.”

  “Okay.”

  I stuck my phone in my pocket and then walked up to the first apartment and knocked on the door. No one was home there or at the next two places. But the fourth door revealed an elderly man and his small dog. He didn’t know anything about Stella, but every time I tried to move on to the next apartment, he kept talking. His scruffy dog reminded me a bit of Muffy, and I realized I probably would have stayed longer if Jed hadn’t given me his warning.

  I had multiple strikeouts after that—the occupants weren’t home or didn’t answer (a real possibility) or they’d never heard of Stella. I only had a few doors left to knock on, at least on this side of the second floor, but I knocked on the next one with as much confidence as I’d knocked on the first one.

  A young woman with a baby on her hip answered. A toddler was hiding behind her legs, stealing looks at me.

  “Hi,” I said with a big smile. “I’m Tiffany from Baby Dearest, and I’m looking for Stella St. Clair.”

  “What for?” she asked.

  I’d expected her to say no and slam the door in my face, so it took me a second to catch up. “Uh . . . I’m here to deliver the good news—she’s won a year’s worth of diapers.”

  “Stella’s a private person,” she said, jostling the baby on her hip. “Why don’t you leave it with me, and I’ll give it to her.”

  “That’s so sweet of you,” I said in a saccharine voice. “But I really need to deliver the prize to Stella personally.”

  She scowled, probably thinking she could sure use a year’s worth of diapers, but then leaned out and pointed to the door at the end. “She lives down there, but she’s not the most pleasant of people, so be prepared.”