Murder Over Easy (A Trailer Park Mystery Book 2)

by Jimmie Ruth Evans

  Wanda Nell took a deep breath to steady herself. “Okay, Melvin, just hang on. I’ll talk to him.”

  “Thanks,” Melvin said, and then the phone clicked in her ear.

  Wanda Nell dropped the receiver in the cradle and sat for a moment, staring into space. She had to get her mind around this. Fayetta brutally murdered, Melvin arrested for it She’d known them both for years, and she just couldn’t see Melvin killing anybody. Fayetta was enough to drive some men crazy, but Melvin seemed to have had her number.

  But could something have caused him to snap? Fayetta wasn’t content to have just one man on a string, and Melvin didn’t seem to like being two-timed. Or time-timed or four-timed, Wanda Nell thought sourly. Fayetta was a real piece of work.

  She didn’t deserve to be slaughtered like a pig, though, and Wanda Nell briefly felt ashamed of herself.

  Getting out of bed, she padded barefoot down the hall and into the kitchen. She kept her list of phone numbers in a drawer near the phone there, and she pulled the list out and scanned it for Tuck Tucker’s number.

  Around her, the house was silent Miranda was presumably at work, and Juliet and Lavon should be at Mrs. Culpepper’s by now. Wanda Nell punched in the numbers and waited. After four rings, an answering machine came on to advise her that the law offices of Hamilton Ihcker were closed today, but if this was an emergency, she could reach him on his cell phone. She scrambled for a pencil and managed to jot the number down in time.

  Wanda Nell broke the connection, waited for a dial tone, then put in the new number. After a couple of rings, Tuck answered.

  “Hey, Tuck, this is Wanda Nell Culpepper,” she said. She still felt awkward talking to him. He was so polished and smart, and so lawyery, she always felt like a hick around him, even though he went out of his way to put her at ease.

  “Wanda Nell,” Tuck said, “we were just talking about you. How are you?”

  Momentarily diverted by this unexpected statement, Wanda Nell forgot about the reason for her call. “Who’s ‘we’?”

  “Oh, TJ., Juliet, and I,” Tuck said. “I’m having lunch with them at Mrs. Culpepper’s. Can’t you join us?”

  “Uh, no,” Wanda Nell said, taken aback. He and TJ. sure had been getting pretty chummy lately, but he was a good influence, that much Wanda Nell had decided. Better than TJ.’s old buddies in Tullahoma, the good Lord knew.

  Wanda Nell remembered the reason for her call. “Tuck, my boss at the Kountry Kitchen, Melvin Arbuckle. You know him?”

  “No,” Tuck said after a brief pause, “can’t say as I do. He need a lawyer?”

  “Yeah,” Wanda Nell said, sighing heavily. “They’ve got him down at the county jail. He called me and asked me to call you for him.”

  “What’s the charge?” Tuck asked when Wanda Nell hesitated.

  “Murder,” she said. “He says they arrested him for killing one of the waitresses at the restaurant Fayetta Sutton.”

  “I see,” Tuck said. “Well, I guess I’d better get on over to the jail and try to talk to him. Lunch will have to wait.”

  “I’m sorry,” Wanda Nell said, but Tuck just laughed.

  “That’s all right Wanda Nell,” he said. “After all, it’s my job.”

  “Tuck,” Wanda Nell said quickly, before he ended the conversation. “Um... can you let me know how it goes?”

  “He a friend, in addition to being your boss?”

  “Yes,” Wanda Nell said without hesitation. Melvin had been a good friend to her. He’d made it plain more than once over the years that he’d like to be more than that to her, but she had shied away from that kind of relationship with him. As a result, he’d turned to Fayetta.

  “Okay, I’ll see what I can do,” Tuck said. “I’ll speak to you later.”

  “Thanks,” Wanda Nell said, and then the connection was broken. She hung up the phone and stared at the wall.

  She was still staring at it in some kind of trance when it rang a couple of minutes later. Shaking herself back to reality, Wanda Nell answered the phone.

  “Hello.”

  “Mama, you okay?”

  She appreciated TJ.’s obvious concern. He was much more thoughtful these days. “Yeah, honey, I’m okay. A little shocked, I guess.”

  “Anything you want me to do? Why don’t you let me come get you, and you come on and have lunch with us?”

  Wanda Nell laughed. “Now, honey, I wouldn’t wanna watch your grandmother choking down her food with me sitting at her table.”

  Over TJ.’s protests that it wouldn’t be like that, Wanda Nell remained firm. Despite what TJ. said, the old woman disliked her, and it was mutual. They got along slightly better now, in the aftermath of Bobby Ray’s murder, but they still didn’t care to spend any tune with each other.

  “Okay,” TJ. sighed. “Then I guess I’ll bring Juliet and Lavon home later on, like we planned. She tell you about the computer?”

  “Yes, she did,” Wanda Nell said, “and I want to talk to you about that.”

  “It’s okay, Mama,” TJ. said, a bit defensively. “Tuck is doing a nice thing, and you don’t have to think of it like it’s a handout.”

  “Whatever,” Wanda Nell said, not totally convinced. “But we’ll see. In the meantime, y’all enjoy your lunch and try not to think about any of this.”

  She hung up the phone and wandered over to the refrigerator. Completely awake now, she was aware of how hungry she was. First she poured herself a glass of cold Coke, then she examined the fridge to see what there was to eat. All the while her mind was fretting over Melvin’s situation and the awful news of Fayetta’s death.

  As she munched on some cold fried chicken, she thought about what she could do. She had to believe Melvin was innocent Surely someone else had done this. Fayetta didn’t exactly have a spotless reputation in Tullahoma, and there was probably some married man in town who’d finally had it with her and chosen a drastic way out.

  Or maybe it was somebody’s wife. The good Lord knew there were more than a few of them around who had reason to despise Fayetta.

  But to hate her enough to kill her like that? Wanda Nell’s imagination was a little too vivid for her sometimes. She pushed away the rest of the fried chicken. She’d lost her appetite.

  What could she do? A couple of ideas had occurred to her. She might get into trouble, she reckoned, but she hadn’t let that stop her before.

  Wanda Nell got up from the table and went back to the phone. She knew the number by heart. A couple of months ago, she had used it often.

  The dispatcher at the sheriff’s department answered.

  “I’d like to speak to Deputy Johnson,” Wanda Nell said. “Elmer Lee Johnson.”

  “I’ll see if he’s available, ma’am,” the dispatcher said.

  “Tell him it’s urgent,” Wanda Nell added quickly.

  Elmer Lee wasn’t going to be too happy with her sticking her nose in like this. Wanda Nell figured he was probably the one who’d be investigating, and she might as well try talking to him. He’d given her a real hard time during the investigation into Bobby Ray’s murder, but eventually they had come to some kind of understanding. She hadn’t seen Elmer Lee since Bobby Ray’s funeral, and the memory of that last conversation was on her mind as she waited to speak to him.

  Another couple of minutes passed, and Wanda Nell was about to hang up.

  “Deputy Johnson,” Elmer Lee barked into the phone. “How can I help you?”

  “Elmer Lee, it’s me, Wanda Nell,” she said, and waited for the explosion.

  At the other end of the line, she heard a deep breath being taken. “And what, pray tell, do you want? I’m kinda busy right now, Wanda Nell.”

  “I know, Elmer Lee,” Wanda Nell said. She hated feeling defensive with him. “But Melvin called me, and I’m concerned. Did you really arrest him for killing Fayetta?”

  “Yes, we did arrest him,” Elmer Lee said with exaggerated patience. “We caught him red-handed, so to speak, and there don’t s
eem to be much reason to look any further. That okay with you?”

  He sure knew how to push her buttons, Wanda Nell reflected. But she wasn’t going to let him make her lose her temper. “I’m not trying to do your job for you, Elmer Lee,” she said, and the unspoken words at least this time hung between them. “I just find it hard to believe that Melvin could, well, butcher somebody.”

  “And how do you know she was butchered?”

  “Cut the crap, Elmer Lee,” Wanda Nell said sharply. “You don’t need to play some stupid game with me. You know Melvin, too. Do you really think he could do something like this?”

  “You’re pushing your nose into something you better stay out of,” Elmer Lee said. “I’ve seen some bad stuff in the twenty-two years I’ve been in the sheriff’s department, but this was about the worst. You don’t want to have anything to do with this.”

  Chilled by the bleakness of Elmer Lee’s tone, Wanda Nell couldn’t speak for a moment Then she rallied. “It just don’t sound like Melvin.”

  “I know that,” Elmer Lee replied. “But you’re just gonna have to butt out and let us do our jobs. Goodbye, Wanda Nell.”

  The phone clicked in her ear. Wanda Nell put the receiver back on the cradle.

  She rubbed her arms up and down. Talking to Elmer Lee had shaken her resolve, but then she thought of the desperation and fear in Melvin’s voice. She couldn’t just abandon him. He had stood by her when she was accused of murdering Bobby Ray. She owed him some loyalty.

  Her mind made up, she peered out the window of her kitchen. It faced her friend Mayrene Lancaster’s trailer. Lights shone in the living room, so Mayrene must be home. Wanda Nell picked up the phone and dialed.

  “Hey, Mayrene,” Wanda Nell said when her friend answered.

  “Hey yourself, girl. How’re you doing?” Without waiting for an answer, Mayrene plunged ahead. “Honey, I have just got to tell you about my date last night. You won’t believe this guy.”

  “I want to hear all about it, I promise,” Wanda Nell said, interrupting before Mayrene could really get going, “but something’s come up, and I need your help.”

  “Uh, sure,” Mayrene said. “Is something wrong with the baby? Or one of the girls?”

  “No, nothing like that,” Wanda Nell assured her. “Listen, if you ain’t got anything to do for the next hour or so, I need you to go with me somewhere.”

  “Well sure, honey,” Mayrene said, obviously puzzled. “But what the heck is this all about?”

  “I’d rather tell you on the way. I can be ready in about five minutes.”

  Mayrene laughed. “Then I guess I’ll meet you outside at my car in five minutes.”

  Wanda Nell hung up the phone, smiling. Mayrene was one in a million. When you needed her, she didn’t ask questions. She hurried back to her bedroom to brush her hair and get dressed.

  Five minutes later, as promised, she met Mayrene at her car. Mayrene, as usual, looked like she’d just stepped out of a bandbox. Wanda Nell marveled at her friend’s ability to appear without a hair out of place and her makeup perfect, even on such short notice.

  But then Mayrene didn’t have any kids to worry about, only herself. About a dozen years older than Wanda Nell, Mayrene had been single as long as Wanda Nell had known her, though there were at least two ex-husbands in her past “Okay, now what’s going on?” Mayrene asked as they got into the car. She commenced backing out of her parking space.

  Quickly, Wanda Nell began to explain. Mayrene’s eyes widened in horror and sympathy, but she didn’t interrupt. They had turned onto the highway before Wanda Nell finished.

  “Awful,” Mayrene commented. “She was a real piece of work, but she sure didn’t deserve nothing like that.”

  “No,” Wanda Nell said, “and I just can’t believe Melvin did it.”

  “Sure don’t sound like him,” Mayrene agreed. “Now, where’re we going? To the jail, to try to see Melvin?” She turned her big Buick onto the highway into town.

  “No,” Wanda Nell said. “I doubt they’d let me see him right now, anyway. Elmer Lee is pissed at me.”

  “You called him?”

  “Yeah,” Wanda Nell said. Mayrene just rolled her eyes at her. “I wanna go by Fayetta’s house.”

  “What?” Mayrene’s hands jerked on the steering wheel. Muttering, she righted the car on the highway. “Are you nuts, honey? They ain’t gonna let you in her house. What do you expect to see, anyway?”

  “I've got a plan,” Wanda Nell said. “I know I won’t be able to get inside, but I might be able to see something.” She threw her hands up in the air. “I just gotta do something.”

  “Okay, honey, I’m with you,” Mayrene said. “It can’t be any worse than what happened in Greenville.” She looked at Wanda Nell and grinned. They both laughed, remembering.

  “I don’t think you’ll need your shotgun today,” Wanda Nell said, sobering. “At least, I sure hope not.”

  Chapter 3

  She directed Mayrene to Fayetta’s house in a section of town not far from the Kountry Kitchen, where the houses were old, small, and on the shabby side. Not the best neighborhood in Tullahoma, but at least Fayetta could afford a place for her and her kids.

  Her kids! It finally hit Wanda Nell. Where were Fayetta’s children when all this was going on? Then she relaxed against the seat. Probably with Fayetta’s mother. Wanda Nell had met her once, a prim, sour-looking older woman who’d made it clear she didn’t think much of her daughter.

  “And your plan?” Mayrene prompted Wanda Nell when they were close to the house.

  “Fayetta’s house is on the corner,” Wanda Nell explained, “and I figure if the sheriff’s department has somebody on watch there, he’s probably at the front of the house. You can stop and let me out around the corner, and I can come through the backyard and sneak a peek inside. In the meantime, you go to the front and park and go up to the house like you’re coming to visit Fayetta.”

  “I get you,” Mayrene said. She shook her head. “You may be heading for a whole mess of trouble if they catch you snooping, girl.”

  Wanda Nell shrugged. So be it. She looked ahead. “Okay, stop here,” she said. She pointed before she got out of the car. “That’s the house, there on the corner. Just go on around and see if there’s anybody there.”

  Wanda Nell shut the door, and Mayrene drove off. Wanda Nell moved to the edge of the street and walked slowly toward Fayetta’s house. As she approached the backyard, she scanned for any signs of activity.

  The closer she came, the more she could see. Fayetta had few curtains up, so most of the windows were bare. Wanda Nell’s breath quickened as she drew closer to the house.

  She was in the backyard now, and she couldn’t see any sign of anyone in the house. She could hear Mayrene, however, hailing someone as she came up the walk to the front door. A deputy on duty, she reckoned, and maybe the only one at the moment.

  Wanda Nell edged closer to the house, into the shade of a couple of old oak trees just a few feet from the house. She pushed her way cautiously into the overgrown hydrangeas in the flowerbeds at the back of the house and peered into the first window she came to.

  It was the kitchen. Nothing looked out of place there.

  She moved down to the next window. Fayetta’s bedroom, if she remembered correctly. She hesitated, steeling herself.

  Wanda Nell gasped as she gazed inside. Bile rose in her throat and she turned away, trying not to vomit. Wanda Nell forced herself to breathe deeply. She focused on the shade beneath a tree in the backyard and worked on controlling the urge to throw up. When she thought she could handle it, she turned her head and looked into Fayetta’s bedroom again.

  The mattress sat slightly askew on the box spring, and the sheets, rumpled and bunched up here and there, had deep crimson splashes across them. Wanda Nell’s eyes followed the trail of blood. Fayetta must have crawled out of the bed and across the room toward the door. A pool of blood had collected on the bare linoleum by the doo
r, and a dark blob maned the paint near the knob.

  Convinced she had seen enough, Wanda Nell turned away, only to find a large, scowling sheriff’s deputy standing right behind her.

  “Would you like to explain what you’re doing here, ma’am?’ He stood with arms crossed over a broad, powerful chest.

  Wanda Nell stared up into implacable, unfriendly eyes. She drew a shaky breath. “Sorry, Deputy Stover,” she said, reading the name off his nameplate. “I came over to check on my co-worker. Fayetta and I work together at the Kountry Kitchen. And I just came over to check on her...” Her voice trailed off.

  She could see Stover wasn’t buying any of this. “What’s your name, ma’am?”

  Wanda Nell swallowed hard. “Wanda Nell Culpepper.”

  The deputy’s face relaxed for a moment. “Yes, ma’am, I reckon I heard tell of you,” he said. “Well, Miz Culpepper, I think you’d better get on home. Ain’t nothing you can do around here. Your friend is waiting around front for you.”

  “Thank you, Deputy, I will,” Wanda Nell said. She risked one last glance at his face, but the stern mask was back. As she scooted around the house, she wondered what kind of tales Elmer Lee Johnson had been telling about her around the sheriff’s department.

  Mayrene was sitting in the car, the engine running and the air conditioning blasting. Wanda Nell was grateful for the cool air, because she discovered she was sweating profusely when she dropped into the passenger seat.

  “Did he yell at you?” Mayrene asked as she put the car into gear and drove off.

  Wanda Nell mopped at her face with some Kleenex from her purse. “No, thank the Lord,” she said. “He was actually nicer about it than I guess I should’ve expected. When I told him my name, he seemed to know who I was.”

  “Elmer Lee’s been doing some talking,” Mayrene said, grinning.

  “Must’ve been,” Wanda Nell agreed. “Because I don’t remember seeing this Deputy Stover around before. He must be new.”