Best Served Cold (A Trailer Park Mystery Book 3)

by Jimmie Ruth Evans

  “Yeah, there’s someone,” Rusty said. “We been together for a few years now.” A shadow crossed his face.

  “Why didn’t you bring her with you?” If it is a her, Wanda Nell added silently. Maybe it wasn’t a her, but a him, and Rusty was afraid Wanda Nell would react badly to the news. She had to stifle a laugh at that thought. Wait till Rusty found out about his nephew, her son T.J.

  “She wasn’t able to come,” Rusty said.

  “That’s too bad,” Wanda Nell said. “I’d sure like to meet her.”

  Rusty nodded. “Maybe some other time.” He shifted restlessly in his chair. “Look, Wanda Nell, I’m only gonna be here a few days, probably. I don’t want to argue with you no more, okay?”

  “I don’t want to argue with you either, Rusty,” Wanda Nell said.

  “I just need to take care of some things here, some old business,” Rusty said, not meeting her eyes. “Nothing you need to worry about, okay?”

  “Is it something I can help you with?” Wanda Nell asked cautiously. Rusty was in a strange mood, and she didn’t know how he’d react.

  Rusty stood up. “No, it’s nothing you can help me with, so don’t be worrying about it. Thanks for the meal, Wanda Nell, I appreciate it. But I’m real tired, and I guess I’ll head on back to the trailer park and get to bed.”

  “All right.” Wanda Nell stood also, and she stepped closer to her brother, aiming to give him a hug. But he shied away from her, and she stopped, feeling awkward and stupid.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow sometime,” Rusty said. Without a backward glance, he walked away.

  Troubled, Wanda Nell watched him go.

  Chapter 2

  Wanda Nell leaned tiredly against her locker for a moment, feeling the welcome cool of the metal on her forehead. She had put in her eight hours at Budget Mart, and she was ready to go home and climb into bed. Thank the Lord, after her shift at the Kountry Kitchen tonight, she had Sunday off. She needed it.

  She opened the locker and extracted her purse. Muttering good-bye to her coworkers, she left the locker room and made her way out of the store.

  The September morning was warm but cloudy. They could use a little rain after two weeks of sun and heat, and Wanda Nell didn’t want to have to get out in the yard again and water her flowerbeds. She could always make Miranda do it, but sometimes it just didn’t seem worth the battle.

  Thoughts of Miranda made her head hurt as she turned the key in the ignition of her red Cavalier. She still couldn’t believe the girl had been such a fool as to think her mother wouldn’t find out she was skipping work. Really, sometimes she was afraid her middle child was about as smart as a clod of dirt. Miranda never thought about the consequences of anything.

  She could hear Miranda’s voice even now, whining. “I wasn’t meaning to miss so much work, Mama, I really wasn’t, but I just couldn’t help it. I just been feeling tired and bad all the time, and when I tried to tell you, you wouldn’t listen. And then that old Miz Putman, well, she’s had it in for me right from the first day. She shouldn’t’ve fired me like that.”

  “Honey, you missed six of the last nine days you were supposed to work, and Miz Putman had every right to fire you, you acting like that,” Wanda Nell said, trying hard to hold on to her temper. “And if you felt that bad, you should have gone to see the doctor, instead of hiding out with that girlfriend of yours.”

  “I didn’t wanna go to the doctor,” Miranda said, her mouth set in mulish lines.

  Wanda Nell had a sudden, terrible thought. “Miranda, you’re not pregnant, are you?” Please, Lord, she begged, don’t let her be pregnant again.

  Miranda had sworn up and down she wasn’t pregnant, and anyway, how could she be, she never went anywhere to meet any boys, and on and on until she was crying from feeling so sorry for herself.

  Wanda Nell had had to walk away from her, for fear of either slapping her or saying something she’d have cause to regret. She had thought Miranda was finally beginning to shape up the last few months, and then Miranda went and pulled a fool stunt like this. What was she going to do with that girl?

  Wanda Nell pulled out onto the highway toward home, the Kozy Kove Trailer Park out by the lake. There was very little traffic out on this early Saturday morning. She had made this drive so many times in recent years, she could probably do it with her eyes closed. She was tempted to close them now, but she forced herself to focus on driving. She didn’t need to be running off the road into a ditch.

  Try as she might, though, she couldn’t turn her mind away from thoughts of her family. If Miranda wasn’t headache enough, now Rusty had turned up, acting strange. She considered that a moment. It had been so long since she’d spent any time with her brother, she wasn’t sure what was strange for him anymore.

  Even so, there was something sly about him, something that made her uneasy. What kind of business could he have here in Tullahoma when he hadn’t lived here in over ten years? Who did he even know anymore? Had he been keeping in touch with somebody all these years? She didn’t like the sound of it.

  Unless he decided to confide in her, she didn’t see much way of finding out what he was up to. They had been close when they were kids, but about the time their daddy died, when Wanda Nell was almost seventeen and Rusty was fifteen, they had both changed. Their daddy’s death had hit them hard, and they had each ended up doing foolish things.

  Wanda Nell sighed, pushing away the thoughts of those long-ago mistakes. Even after twenty-three years, she still missed her daddy. If he hadn’t died so young, from a heart attack at forty-two, things might have been so different.

  But there wasn’t much use in looking back and crying over spilt milk, her mama would have said. Wipe up the milk, and get on with it. Wanda Nell smiled for a moment. She could almost hear her mama’s voice in the car with her.

  As she turned off the highway onto the lake road, Wanda Nell laughed. Trouble was, on a good day she had more than enough milk to wipe up. She didn’t need any more just now.

  A few minutes later, she was home, parking her car beside her double-wide trailer. A battered Toyota pickup with Tennessee plates was parked at the end of Mayrene Lancaster’s trailer.

  As Wanda Nell climbed wearily out of the car, Mayrene poked her head out of the door of her trailer. “Hey there, girl, how are you?”

  “Morning, Mayrene,” Wanda Nell said, suppressing a yawn. “Pretty dang worn out. How about you?”

  “I’m okay,” Mayrene said, stepping out of the trailer onto the little porch and pulling the door shut behind her. “Your brother’s still asleep.”

  “I appreciate you putting him up like this,” Wanda Nell said. “I hope he’s not gonna be any trouble.”

  Mayrene flapped her hand in a dismissive gesture. “He ain’t no trouble. And you’re crowded enough already, you don’t need nobody else over there. I’m glad to do it.” Wanda Nell leaned against her car for a moment. “Tell Rusty for me, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna sleep for a while, but he’s welcome to come over whenever he wants. I’ll talk to the girls about him, and he can help himself to whatever’s in the fridge.”

  “I don’t think you need to worry about looking after him,” Mayrene said. “I heard him talking on his cell phone last night, and it sounded to me like he was planning to be pretty busy today.”

  “Oh, really,” Wanda Nell said, her curiosity piqued. “Did you hear him say just what it was he’s gonna be doing?”

  Mayrene shook her head. “Not really. I wasn’t intending to be getting into his business, but I was coming down the hall to check on him, make sure he had everything, and that’s when I heard him talking.” She paused. “He didn’t have the door closed, and I couldn’t help it.” Wanda Nell suppressed a grin. Mayrene wouldn’t admit she’d probably been listening in on purpose, but Wanda Nell didn’t care. She wanted to know what Rusty was up to herself, and if this was the only way she could find out, so be it.

  “Could you tell who he was talking to?”


  Again Mayrene shook her head. “He mentioned the name Tony, but I don’t think that’s who he was talking to. Whoever this Tony is, Rusty sure don’t like him much.” Wanda Nell thought it over a minute. She couldn’t remember anybody right off the bat named Tony that her brother might have known. Maybe she’d look through her high school yearbooks later on, if she could find them. Right now she was too tired.

  “Anything else?” Wanda Nell asked after a big yawn.

  Mayrene hesitated. “I’m not sure, but I think he said something like, ‘You better believe I’m gonna use it, and I don’t give a rat’s ass what you want.’ And that was it.” Wanda Nell had no idea what it meant, but it didn’t sound too good. It sounded like Rusty was threatening someone. But why?

  She pushed herself away from the car. She had to get some sleep, and when she was rested, she would feel more like tackling her brother.

  “Keep your ears open for me, Mayrene,” she said. “Something strange is going on with Rusty, and I don’t know what it is.”

  “Sure thing, honey,” Mayrene said. “I don’t know him at all, but he does seem to be acting a little weird.” She made a shooing gesture with her hands. “Now you get on in there and get some rest. Don’t worry about none of this right now.”

  Wanda Nell waved her thanks as she turned and mounted the steps to the front door of her trailer.

  She unlocked the door, pushed it open, and stepped inside. Easing the door shut behind her, she stood still for a moment and listened. Everything was quiet.

  Resisting the impulse to check on Miranda and her grandson, she instead turned down the hall where her bedroom and Juliet’s room lay. She did poke her head in Juliet’s room for a moment, and Juliet was sound asleep, her long, fair hair almost covering the teddy bear, Alexander, clutched in her right arm.

  Wanda Nell smiled and blew a kiss toward her sleeping daughter. Thank the Lord, Juliet never gave her any trouble.

  In her own room, she pulled off her clothes and dropped them in the laundry hamper. After slipping into her nightgown, she crawled into bed and was asleep in less than five minutes.

  Sometime later she surfaced to hear the steady beat of rain against the windows. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand, surprised to note that it was nearly two-thirty. She’d been so tired she’d slept soundly for over seven hours.

  Sitting up in the bed, she yawned and stretched. She actually felt rested for once. Climbing out of bed, she slipped on her housecoat and padded out into the hall. She peered into Juliet’s room, but it was empty.

  After a stop in the bathroom she shared with Juliet, she continued into the living room. The trailer was quiet, except for the drumming of the rain.

  Wanda Nell frowned for a moment, until she remembered that Juliet was supposed to be at the library, working on a project for school. Miranda had probably taken Lavon and gone off to visit one of her friends. She better be back with the car in time for me to go to work, Wanda Nell thought sourly.

  In the kitchen, she poured herself a large glass of Diet Coke and sat at the table drinking until she felt more awake. Her stomach was starting to growl a bit, and she got up and rummaged in the fridge for something to eat.

  There was some leftover ham and potato salad, and she decided that would do just fine.

  She was eating and considering what to do about finding Miranda another job when she became aware of loud voices outside. The rain had slacked off, and she could hear the angry tones of two men arguing.

  Alarmed, she got up from her chair and peered out her kitchen window. Rusty was standing in the doorway of Mayrene’s trailer, his face reddened and twisted into a scowl. He was listening, arms crossed over his chest, to a man who stood at the foot of Mayrene’s steps.

  Wanda Nell recognized him with a start. She knew that bald head and tubby body. They belonged to Bert Vines, her insurance agent. What the heck was he doing here, and why was he hollering at her brother like that?

  She couldn’t make out what they were saying, so she raised the kitchen window quietly.

  “I done told you what I want,” Rusty said, his voice harsh and clear in the spattering rain. “And you better do what I say. There ain’t no room for negotiation.”

  Bert Vines uttered several choice obscenities, and Wanda Nell flinched. Then he shouted, “I’ll see you in hell first, you bastard!”

  Turning quickly, he almost slipped on the slick concrete, but he righted himself. Moments later, Wanda Nell heard a car door slam. Then the car roared off.

  She stared out the kitchen window at her brother. He stood there for a moment, completely still, then he turned and went back inside the trailer.

  Wanda Nell’s stomach began to ache. What was Rusty up to? And what was she going to do about it?

  Chapter 3

  Wanda Nell stared through the kitchen window at Mayrene’s trailer trying to decide what to do. Should she confront Rusty right now about what she had overheard? Would he even talk to her about it?

  Turning away from the window, she picked up the phone and punched in Mayrene’s number. She heard several rings before Rusty picked up.

  “Rusty, it’s me, Wanda Nell.”

  “Where are you?” Rusty’s voice was gruff.

  “I’m at home,” Wanda Nell said, surprised. “Where’d you think I’d be?”

  He breathed hard into the phone. “I reckon I thought you’d gone to work. Your car’s not out there.”

  “I been sleeping after my shift at Budget Mart,” Wanda Nell said. “Miranda’s gone off in my car somewhere.”

  He grunted. Then after a pause, he said, “Well, what do you want?”

  To slap you upside the head, Wanda Nell thought irritably, but she didn’t say it to him. Instead, she said, “I thought maybe you could come over here for a while, and we could talk. It’s been a long time, Rusty, and I think there’s some things we should talk about.”

  “I got things I got to do.”

  “Well, can’t they wait just a little while?” Wanda Nell didn’t want to sound like she was pleading with him, but he was being so danged obstinate.

  His tone was grudging when he finally replied. “I guess so. I’ll come over for a few minutes.”

  “Good,” Wanda Nell said. “Give me about five minutes while I throw on some clothes.”

  “Whatever.” The phone clicked in her ear.

  Sighing, she put the phone down. Talking to him was going to be like pulling teeth, but she had to do it.

  She hurried down the hall to her bedroom to slip on some jeans and an old shirt. She had about an hour before she’d have to start getting ready for her shift at the Kountry Kitchen. And Miranda had better get herself back here by then.

  Wanda Nell was back in the kitchen when she heard a knock at the door. She went to answer it.

  Rusty was scowling at her before she even said a word to him. She stepped back and motioned him in. He stomped past her like a little boy being called in from recess. Rolling her eyes at his back, Wanda Nell shut the door.

  “Have a seat,” she said, pointing him toward the couch.

  He plopped down on it and stared at his feet.

  “Can I get you something to drink? Or maybe something to eat? Have you had lunch yet?”

  “Got any beer?”

  “I think so,” Wanda Nell said, heading for the kitchen. She tried to keep some on hand for her friend, Jack Pemberton, and for T.J. They both liked Heineken, and she hoped Rusty did, too. Maybe a beer would mellow him out a little.

  She returned to the living room with a cold beer for him and more Diet Coke for herself.

  “Thanks,” Rusty muttered, accepting the bottle. “Good beer.” He tilted it up to his lips and drank about half of it.

  Wanda Nell sat down in a chair near the couch. After a sip of her drink, she said, “Did you sleep okay? I hope you got some rest, because you sure looked tired last night.”

  “I slept fine,” Rusty said shortly.

  “Good,” Wanda Nell
said, determined to be patient with him, even though he was irritating the hell out of her. “I sure appreciate Mayrene putting you up like that, though you know you’re perfectly welcome to stay here with us.”

  “Yeah,” Rusty said, staring at his beer. “I know.”

  He wasn’t going to make it easy for her, Wanda Nell could see. Suppressing a sigh, she said, “I’m sorry, Rusty.”

  Finally, he looked up at her. “Sorry? For what?”

  “For being so rough on you when Mama died,” Wanda Nell replied. She had been so angry with him at the time she hadn’t really thought much about what she was saying to him. She’d been pretty vicious when she’d told him what she thought about his neglect of his mother. “I was so upset about losing her and her dying the way she did, I didn’t think about what I was saying to you.”

  Rusty rolled the beer bottle back and forth between his hands. When he spoke, his voice was rough. “I’m sorry, too, Wanda Nell. I let Mama down, and I’m ashamed of the way I treated her. I don’t really blame you for what you said. I been saying worse to myself ever since Mama died.” Wanda Nell wanted to reach out to him, but something about the way he was holding himself warned her that her touch wouldn’t be welcome. She stared at him for a moment. How had her little brother turned into this bitter stranger?

  “It’s time to let go of that,” Wanda Nell said gently.

  “We both need to move on. We can’t undo what’s been done, but maybe we can do better from now on.”

  Rusty drained the rest of his beer. He stuck the empty bottle in her direction. “Got another one?”

  “Yeah,” Wanda Nell said. She took the bottle into the kitchen and retrieved another one from the fridge. There were two left, and she hoped Rusty wasn’t going to want them, too. He got mean when he was drunk. She remembered that all too clearly from some of his escapades when he was a teenager after their daddy died.