Murder Over Easy (A Trailer Park Mystery Book 2)

by Jimmie Ruth Evans

  The next morning, she was up at seven-thirty after a restless night. Peering at herself in the mirror, she grimaced at the bags under her eyes. She splashed her face with cold water and that helped.

  Miranda was evidently still in bed, but Juliet and Lavon were in the kitchen eating breakfast. Wanda Nell was gearing herself up to roust Miranda when Juliet told her it was okay.

  “She traded with somebody, Mama. Some other girl wanted to take tomorrow off, and Miranda switched with her. So it’s okay.”

  Relieved, Wanda Nell poured herself some coffee and sat down at the table. She didn’t relish another scene with Miranda, and not having to make arrangements for sharing the car today would make things easier for her.

  The hot coffee helped her wake up, but she knew she’d pay for the lack of sleep later on. She had thought a lot about TJ. and Tuck, and when she wasn’t worrying over that, she was worrying about the murder and those awful men. How could she protect herself and her family against them?

  All that worrying did was make her more determined than ever to get this thing over with as quickly as possible. That meant she didn’t have any time to waste.

  Last night when she came home, she had really wanted to talk to Mayrene. Her best friend’s trailer had been dark, and Wanda Nell didn’t want to wake her. She got up from the table now and peered out the kitchen window at Mayrene’s trailer. She had already left for work.

  Wanda Nell had been debating about calling Agnes Vance this morning to suggest that she come over and help her. With what, she wasn’t exactly sure. The more she thought about it, the more she figured she’d just show up at the woman’s door. That way Mrs. Vance couldn’t put her off, and Wanda Nell didn’t think she’d get the door slammed in her face.

  After she talked with Agnes Vance, she’d swing by the beauty shop and talk to Mayrene. She’d find some way to tell her friend what they knew and what they suspected. Mayrene would certainly be upset about her new beau, but she needed to know that he very well could be mixed up in the murder.

  Her plans made, Wanda Nell had some breakfast, then showered and dressed. “I’ve got some errands to run this morning, honey,” she told Juliet “If y’all need me, just call. Tell Miranda she may not get to use the car today. Depends on how long it takes me to do what I need to do.” She gave Lavon a hug and a kiss before she headed out the door.

  The air was close and sticky today, and dark clouds were gathering. Sure enough, by the time Wanda Nell turned onto the highway toward town, rain had started falling hard and fast

  The trip to Agnes Vance’s house took a few minutes longer than it ordinarily would. Wanda Nell hated driving in heavy rain, and she kept her speed down, just in case.

  When she reached her destination, she sat in the car for a few minutes, waiting for the rain to slack off. Deciding that wasn’t going to happen soon enough, Wanda Nell grabbed a decrepit umbrella from the back seat and stepped out into the rain.

  She ran up to Mrs. Vance’s front door, thankful for the shelter of the porch. She shook out the umbrella, then folded it up and set it down by the door. She knocked and waited.

  Just as she was about to knock again, the door swung open, and Agnes Vance regarded her without expression.

  “Good morning, Miz Vance,” Wanda Nell said, slightly taken aback that the woman hadn’t said anything. “I’m sorry for dropping by like this without calling you first, but I was running some errands. I thought I’d just check on you and see if there was anything I could help you with.”

  Mrs. Vance stepped back from the door. “Come on in, Miz Culpepper.”

  Wanda Nell stepped inside, feeling damp and slightly chilled from the rain. As Mrs. Vance closed the door behind her, Wanda Nell glanced to her left into the living room. Fayetta’s four children were sitting on the sofa, staring curiously at her. They were arranged in a row by age, the youngest at one end, the eldest at the other. The oldest and the youngest were boys, and the two middle children were girls.

  “The children and I were having Bible study,” Mrs. Vance said. The way she said it, Wanda Nell felt like she should apologize again for interrupting them.

  “Say good morning to Miz Culpepper, children,” Mrs. Vance instructed.

  “Good morning, Miz Culpepper,” the children chorused in response.

  “Good morning,” Wanda Nell responded. Her heart went out to them. Fayetta may not have been the world’s best mother, but she had loved them. They were all neatly dressed and clean, but their eyes had a sadness in them that made Wanda Nell want to cry.

  Impulsively she walked forward until she was in front of them, then she squatted so that she was at eye level with them. “I worked with your mama. Do you remember coming by the Kountry Kitchen? I saw you there a few times.”

  The older two nodded.

  “I sure am sorry about your mama,” Wanda Nell said softly.

  “We been praying so Mama can get into heaven,” said the younger girl, who was about six, Wanda Nell thought.

  The youngest who seemed about four, started to whimper. Wanda Nell reached out to stroke his hand.

  “Stop that crying, Elijah,” Mrs. Vance said sharply. “Miz Culpepper, I think it would be better if we let the children get on with their studying.” She handed the Bible to the oldest. “Here, Jeremiah, you read to the others.”

  Jeremiah took the Bible, but muttered something under his breath.

  Wanda Nell stood up slowly and turned to Mrs. Vance with surprise. “I thought his name was Shawn.”

  Mrs. Vance’s lips tightened. “I don’t hold with those heathen names. Now come into the kitchen with me. There is something I need to talk to you about.”

  She turned away and headed for the kitchen. Wanda Nell glanced back at the sofa. Jeremiah had his tongue stuck out at his grandmother’s back, as did the other boy when he saw what his big brother was doing. The two girls just looked scared.

  Wanda Nell wished she could take these poor kids home with her, but she knew that was impossible. With a heavy heart, she followed Mrs. Vance into the kitchen.

  Taking the seat indicated, Wanda Nell regarded the older woman. She was glad Mrs. Vance wanted to talk to her about something. That might make it easier for her to ask some questions.

  “What is it you’d like to talk about, Miz Vance?” Wanda Nell said after she had turned down the offer of something to drink.

  “I want you to start minding your own business, and leave me and mine alone.”

  Chapter 18

  Wanda Nell sat and stared at Mrs. Vance. Talk about strange! First the woman offered her something to drink, then she told her to mind her own business.

  Stone-faced, Mrs. Vance ignored her lack of response. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the help you’ve given me. I do. But I can’t have anybody interfering with the children. I wrestled Satan for their mother’s soul, and I lost. I’m not going to let those children grow up godless heathens like their mother.”

  Wanda Nell found her voice. “I don’t recall doing anything to interfere with the children, Miz Vance. If you think me telling those poor kids I was sorry about their mama was some kind of interference, then you’ve got another think coming. I don’t know what else I could’ve done to make you think I’m interfering.”

  Mrs. Vance’s eyes narrowed. “I had a woman from the welfare department here yesterday because they received some kind of complaint. The only person I could figure might’ve done that was you. I don’t appreciate other folks poking their noses into my business, and those children are my business.”

  “I didn’t call them,” Wanda Nell said. I’m starting to wish I had, though, she added silently. “Somebody else did that, not me.”

  “Then I apologize,” Mrs. Vance said stiffly. “It’s none of those people’s business either. What do they know about raising children? Those children need a firm Christian hand, and I’m the one who can give them that. ‘Folly is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of discipline drives it far from hi
m.’ ” For a moment, she looked like she was going to cry.

  “I’m sure it will all be okay,” Wanda Nell said, not knowing what else to say.

  “They’ve got no right coming into a person’s home and asking all those personal questions,” Mrs. Vance continued as if Wanda Nell hadn’t spoken. “She didn’t even ask to see the children. I offered to let her see them, but she said that wasn’t necessary.”

  “That’s a little odd,” Wanda Nell said, frowning. “Where were the children?’

  “They were in their room taking their naps. They’d just had lunch, and I believe children should rest for an hour after they eat.”

  Wanda Nell wondered if Mrs. Vance ever let the children go outside to play. Surely she didn’t keep them inside all the time. “Rest is good, but they need exercise, too. When do they play?”

  “They play outside twice a day,” Mrs. Vance said, frowning. “You know, that woman didn’t ask me that. Come to think of it she didn’t ask me much about the children at all.”

  “What did she ask you then?’ Wanda Nell said, hoping Mrs. Vance wouldn’t be offended by the question.

  “She tried to quiz me about my daughter and her work. Wanted to know what all I knew about her job, and that kind of thing. She was a fool, if you ask me.”

  “Sounds like it,” Wanda Nell said, though privately she wondered just what the social worker had been after. “What did you tell her?”

  “Just that my daughter worked at that restaurant.” Mrs. Vance didn’t meet Wanda Nell’s eyes as she spoke.

  Knowing she had to tread carefully, Wanda Nell thought before she asked her next question. “But didn’t Fayetta have money coming from somewhere else? I know what she made at the Kountry Kitchen, and it was okay, but not enough for the kind of money she spent on the kids’ clothes and such.”

  A pained look flashed across Mrs. Vance’s face. Her reluctance was obvious when she finally spoke. “Fayetta did sometimes work an extra job.”

  “Where was that?”

  “Some private club,” Mrs. Vance said. “That’s all she told me. Just said she made good money waitressing and cleaning up at this place.”

  “Did you tell the social worker about that?”

  “No, I did not,” Mrs. Vance said. “I didn’t like her attitude. She kept on asking me, but I told her, far as I knew, Fayetta only had the one job. I didn’t like the way she kept pushing at it, and I pray the Lord will forgive me for lying. But it was none of her business.”

  Wanda Nell’s suspicions had been completely aroused by now. This woman didn’t sound like a proper social worker. Why hadn’t she asked to see the children? Surely that would have been the appropriate procedure.

  “Did this woman show you anything to prove she was who she said she was?”

  “No, she introduced herself and said she was from the welfare department, and she needed to ask me some questions.” Mrs. Vance thought for a moment. “As soon as she told me somebody had complained about the way I’m taking care of the children, I reckon I was so angry I didn’t even think about any of that. Until now.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “She had long black hair and was about your height, I guess. Maybe twenty-five or thirty. She wore glasses, and she had a mole on one cheek.” Mrs. Vance paused. “She wasn’t dressed the way I would’ve expected, either. She was wearing jeans and a blouse with a dark jacket. And tennis shoes. Not very professional, if you ask me.”

  Wanda Nell was more and more convinced that the so-called social worker was bogus. It was somebody trying to find out how much Agnes Vance might know about that blasted private club. But who? It didn’t sound like anybody she knew.

  “Did she give you a name?”

  “I know she told me something,” Mrs. Vance said, her face clouding. “But what was it? I think she said Hallie something. Now what was the last name?” She tapped a finger to her lips while she tried to remember.

  Wanda Nell waited patiently. She didn’t know anybody named Hallie, but she figured it was a false name anyway.

  “Hallie Carter?” Mrs. Vance said. “No, that wasn’t it.” The finger tapped a few times more. “I tell you, I was so rattled and then so mad, it’s a wonder I remember that much. Hallie Bates? No, that wasn’t it either.” She concentrated fiercely. “I’ve got it, Hallie Cates, that was it.”

  The name meant nothing to Wanda Nell, but she would remember it. Maybe Tuck could check to find out whether a woman by that name worked for the welfare department

  “I don’t know her," Wanda Nell said. She debated whether to tell Mrs. Vance that she was sure the woman had been an impostor, but she decided it would only frighten her. The phony social worker probably wouldn’t come back anyway, since Mrs. Vance hadn’t told what she knew about Fayetta’s other job.

  “I don’t think you have anything to worry about” Wanda Nell continued. “I don’t imagine she’ll come back anytime soon.”

  Mrs. Vance had been awfully confiding, but Wanda Nell wondered whether she could get her to open up a little more. It was worth a try.

  “Miz Vance, I’m gonna be real honest with you. I’m real concerned about Melvin Arbockle. I don’t believe he murdered your daughter, and I’m trying to help him any way I can.” Wanda Nell paused to gauge the other woman’s reaction. So far so good. She went on. “I need to ask you something. Did Fayetta ever tell you anything about that other job of hers? Anything at all?”

  Mrs. Vance turned stone-faced again.

  “Please, Miz Vance. If you know anything, it could help get an innocent man out of jail. You wouldn’t want him to go to prison for something he didn’t do, would you?"

  At first, Wanda Nell thought her plea had fallen on deaf ears. She was about to get up and walk out when Mrs. Vance finally spoke.

  “ ‘Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.’ ” Mrs. Vance fixed Wanda Nell with her piercing gaze. “If he is truly innocent, then I pray the Lord will be merciful to him. My daughter was wanton, and she knew I disapproved of what she was doing. She wouldn’t tell me much. She did say one time that everybody in town would be shocked if they knew what some of our most upstanding citizens got up to.” She turned her head away. “Knowing my daughter as I did, I had little trouble in figuring out what she meant.”

  “Did she ever mention any names?”

  “No, though I scolded her for her wickedness. I begged her to stay away from that place, but she said she was going to make enough money so that she and the children could leave town.”

  “But somebody stopped her,” Wanda Nell said softly.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Vance said sadly. “Her wickedness condemned her. ‘But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.’ I pray the Lord will punish those men for their lewdness and fornication.”

  “Somehow I believe He will,” Wanda Nell said. “Thank you, Miz Vance. I appreciate you talking to me like this. I know it’s hard for you, but like the Bible says, ‘and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.’ ”

  Mrs. Vance, not to be outdone, responded, “ ‘Oh send out thy light and thy truth; let them lead me, let them bring me to thy holy hill and to thy dwelling!”’

  Wanda Nell smiled faintly. She stood up. “I’d better be going now. I promise you I’m going to find out the truth, one way or another.”

  Mrs. Vance didn’t speak again. Wanda Nell left her sitting at the table. The children were still in the living room where Shawn—Wanda Nell refused to think of him as Jeremiah—was struggling as he read aloud. Sighing, Wanda Nell let herself out.

  Picking up her umbrella and opening it, she made a dash for the car. The rain had slackened into a slow drizzle, and the sun was trying to peek from behind the clouds.

  Wanda Nell headed for Lucille’s Style Shop. She hoped she would be able to talk to Mayrene for a few minutes, though the beauty shop wasn’t the ideal setting for a heart-to-heart. But the sooner Mayrene knew about Hector Padget the b
etter, as far as Wanda Nell was concerned.

  Lucille’s place was in a house on the old state highway, not far from the county high school. There were several cars in the ersatz parking lot otherwise known as the lawn, when Wanda Nell arrived. She made sure she wasn’t blocking anyone before she locked her car and went inside.

  “Hey, Wanda Nell, how are you?” Roberta, the receptionist and manicurist glanced up from her desk when Wanda Nell walked in.

  “I’m doing fine, Roberta. How’re you?” The smell of chemicals hit her nose, reminding her of the main reason she didn’t like getting her hair done. She hated those smells, especially hair spray.

  “Doing great.” Roberta glanced down at the appointment book. “Did you have an appointment today? I don’t remember one.”

  “No,” Wanda Nell said. “I don’t have one. I was just stopping by for a minute. I wanted to talk to Mayrene, if I could.” Craning her neck, Wanda Nell glanced into one of the side rooms where Mayrene and two other women had their stations.

  Her friend was busy working on someone’s head and talking a mile a minute. She had her back to Wanda Nell.

  Roberta shrugged. “Just go on in. She’s about done with Miz Bramble. You know Mayrene, she can talk and do hair at the same time.”

  Grinning, Wanda Nell said, “She sure can.” She walked into the other room and sat down in one of the unoccupied dryer chairs.

  Mayrene caught a glimpse of her in the mirror as she turned Mrs. Bramble’s chair sideways. “Morning, Wanda Nell,” she said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Mayrene was still a bit huffy, Wanda Nell deduced. “I just thought I’d stop by and say hello. Thought I’d see if maybe you could work me in this morning.”

  Mayrene had never done Wanda Nell’s hair, but she had been trying to for years. She was always telling Wanda Nell that she could do a lot for her, if she’d only let her have a go.

  Mayrene’s eyes gleamed. “Well, you’re in luck today, honey. Miz Gilmore canceled on me, so soon as I’m done with Miz Bramble here, you’re next.”