Murder Over Easy (A Trailer Park Mystery Book 2)

by Jimmie Ruth Evans

  There were plenty of other people out around the lake enjoying the beautiful weather, and Wanda Nell was happy to see TJ. and Tuck sitting at one of the large picnic tables shaded by the trees. She pulled her car to a stop behind TJ.’s truck, and Mayrene parked alongside her.

  TJ. and Tuck came over to help unload. Miranda, with Lavon on her hip, wandered off, but there were enough hands to get the work done without her. Jack Pemberton arrived shortly, and Melvin Arbuckle not long after. The only person missing was old Mrs. Culpepper. Wanda Nell had invited her, but her former mother-in-law politely declined the invitation.

  “Thank you, Wanda Nell,” Lucretia Culpepper said. “But I’m lunching with the Grahams. They’ve invited me, along with the preacher and his wife, and I can’t back out now. You’ll just have to have your little picnic without me.”

  Feeling relieved, knowing that everyone would be far more relaxed without the old witch around to make snide comments about everything, Wanda Nell had hung up the phone. No one could say she hadn’t at least tried.

  Standing in the shade of one of the old trees, Wanda Nell surveyed the scene in front of her. Melvin had Lavon in his lap, bouncing the laughing baby up and down. Juliet and Miranda were arguing amicably over something, while Mayrene was telling Tuck and TJ. where to put the lawn chairs she had brought Jack, bending over a cooler, was searching for something to drink. Beer in hand, he came over to Wanda Nell, smiling. The sun glinted off his dark glasses.

  “How about something to drink?” He offered her the beer.

  “I’m fine,” Wanda Nell said, smiling back at him.

  He popped the top on the beer and sipped. “Thanks for inviting me.”

  Wanda Nell slipped an arm around his waist “I’m glad you’re here, Jack. Thank the Lord, it’s a beautiful day. I don’t think I could’ve stood being cooped up at home today.”

  “You’ve had a rough week,” Jack said, his arm across her shoulders. He glanced down at her.

  “Yeah, it was pretty bad,” Wanda Nell said. “That poor woman.”

  “That poor woman murdered her own daughter,” Jack said, his voice dry.

  “I know,” Wanda Nell said. “I still can’t help but feel sorry for her.”

  “It’s a terrible story.”

  “Let’s not think about it today,” Wanda Nell said firmly. “I just want to enjoy the day and having my friends and family with me.”

  “I’m glad to be here,” Jack said. “I like your family and your friends, though I’m not sure what Melvin thinks about me.”

  Wanda Nell shifted uneasily. “Don’t pay any attention to that.”

  “He’s jealous,” Jack said softly. “I know he cares about you. Just like I do.”

  “I care about Melvin, too,” Wanda Nell said, choosing her words carefully. “He’s been a real good friend to me. But he’s a friend.” She turned so she could lode into Jack’s face. She reached up and pulled off his sunglasses. He blinked. “I don’t feel about him the way I feel about you. I care a lot about you, Jack. More than I have for any other man in a long time. But I just need you to be patient with me.”

  “I know,” Jack said. He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. “I’m a very patient man, especially when there’s someone worth waiting for.”

  Wanda Nell smiled. Taking Jack’s hand in her own, she pulled him toward the picnic table. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m hungry. Let’s eat.” She motioned for everyone to assemble around the picnic table.

  Soon everyone was seated with a plateful of food. Mayrene and Melvin occupied two of the chairs Mayrene had brought while the others crowded around the picnic table. Lavon, in his mother’s lap, took a handful of potato salad off Miranda’s plate and stuck it in his mouth.

  Wanda Nell gazed at Tuck and TJ., sitting together beside Miranda. Her heart turned over. She wondered that she hadn’t seen it before. How could she have been so blind? They were discreet, but anyone with sense could see, if only they looked. She had looked, but she hadn’t seen.

  Jack’s hand brushed her thigh. He whispered in her ear. “It’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”

  Startled, Wanda Nell looked into his eyes. He knew, too. And it didn’t bother him. She relaxed a little. “Thanks,” she whispered back.

  “I want to propose a toast,” Melvin said, claiming everyone’s attention. He stood, beer in hand. ‘To Wanda Nell. It’s good to have a friend who’ll stick by you. And to Tuck here, the best lawyer I’m glad I don’t really need after all.”

  Tuck laughed. ‘To Wanda Nell, who somehow makes my work a heck of a lot easier by doing it for me.” He winked and gave her a big grin, lifting his own beer in salute.

  They all had a good laugh at that, and Wanda Nell blushed the whole time. When the laughter died down, she said, “I’m just glad we’re all together and that we can enjoy this beautiful day.” She lifted her can of Coke. “And here’s to all of you. Now stop talking and eat.”

  Eat they did, but it didn’t stop them talking. Wanda Nell had hoped no one would bring up the murder, but she wasn’t surprised that the subject came up.

  “Hey, Tuck,” Mayrene said. “So what’s gonna happen to that club now? Even if they ain’t murderers, they’re still pretty sorry excuses for humanity.”

  Tuck shrugged. “It’s up to the sheriff’s department. They’ve got statements from two people about what was going on there, but considering who all is involved, I’m not going to be surprised if it all just fades away.” He picked at a piece of fried chicken on his plate. “I heard that Billy Joe Eccles and Deke Campbell want to give the land and the building to the county for some kind of camp for underprivileged kids. And I reckon that’s what will happen, one way or another.”

  “What about Tommy Eccles?” Melvin asked. “Is Katie Ann going to jail for that?”

  “It’s a mess,” Tuck said. “He’s pressed charges against her, and she’s saying he assaulted her. So I’m not sure how it’s going to end up. The doctors aren’t sure he’ll ever be able to walk again, and Katie Ann’s sitting in jail right now. Which is probably the safest place for her.”

  “They oughta give her a medal,” Mayrene said. “That Tommy Eccles ain’t nothing but scum, and everybody knows he killed his mama and daddy, no matter what his brother says.”

  “I can’t say I disagree with you,” Tuck responded. “But I told Katie Ann I’d take her case, and she hired me. We’ll see what happens.”

  “Considering that she can’t afford a lawyer, she’s pretty dang lucky you’re willing to defend her,” TJ. said. He nudged Tuck with his shoulder. Tuck smiled back at him.

  “I’m glad you’re gonna do it, Tuck,” Wanda Nell said. “I feel real sorry for her, after all she’s been through. She’s gonna need your help.” She got up from the picnic table, ready for a change of subject “Now, how about some dessert?”

  Mayrene had baked a couple apple pies that morning, and she had brought some vanilla ice cream, iced down in a cooler. Soon everyone had a generous helping of apple pie and ice cream, and the talk drifted on to other subjects.

  Soon the afternoon heat—not to mention the full stomachs—was making everyone drowsy, and Wanda Nell decided it was a good time for a walk out under the trees. She beckoned to TJ. to follow her. Pushing himself up, groaning, from his place at the picnic table, he came to join his mother.

  “Let’s take a little walk,” Wanda Nell said, taking his hand in hers. “Let everybody else relax a while, and then we’ll come back and clean up.”

  TJ. looked down into her face. “Okay.”

  Wanda Nell waited until they were far enough away from everyone else. The air was noticeably cooler under the canopy of trees, and the noise of the other groups enjoying the afternoon faded. Here they could have quiet while they walked and talked.

  “I’m sorry we couldn’t talk sooner,” Wanda Nell said. “I know you’ve been wanting to talk to me, and I reckon now’s as good a time as any. You feel like it?”

 
; “Yeah,” TJ. said. He stopped walking and turned to face his mother. “There’s something I really need to tell you, Mama. Something about me.” He paused for a moment and swallowed hard. “It’s hard for me to say. I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

  “Honey,” Wanda Nell said, stroking his cheek. “I’m not gonna be mad at you, I promise. Besides, I’m pretty sure I know what it is you want to tell me.”

  “Maybe so,” TJ. said, “but I’ve still got to say it, Mama. I have to say the words aloud to you.”

  Wanda Nell nodded encouragement Suddenly she found she couldn’t say anything. Her throat was too tight TJ. turned away, gazing out into the trees. “All those years, Mama, I tried so hard to be just what you and Daddy expected me to be. I tried so hard just to be one of the guys, like Daddy was. Doing all the things that Daddy did, drinking and carousing and getting in fights, to prove how tough I was. What a man I was. Except I got caught and ended up in trouble.” He sighed, and Wanda Nell wanted to comfort him. But the words wouldn’t come.

  “And all the time I knew it wasn’t me. That wasn’t who I was, Mama. I had these feelings, but they were the kind of feelings I wasn’t supposed to have. I hated myself for being different, and I tried to make myself the way I thought I should be. But that didn’t get me anything except time in jail.”

  Wanda Nell could hear the tears in his voice. She wanted to reach out to him, to touch him, but she couldn’t move.

  “Then I ended up out in Houston,” TJ. continued, still not looking at her. “I got in some trouble there, too, but there was somebody who helped me. There were several people who helped me, and I started to figure out that there were other people like me. People who accepted themselves and got on with their lives. And for the first time in my life, I started to feel good about myself.”

  TJ. turned back to his mother and took her hands in his. “That’s when I decided to come home. I wanted to see my family and to talk to y’all. But then Daddy got killed, and so I put off talking for a while. And then Grandmama kinda took over, and I’ve been putting off talking even more.”

  “You don’t have to put it off anymore, honey,” Wanda Nell said, finally finding her voice again. “Just tell me.”

  TJ. breathed deeply, then exhaled slowly. He held her gaze with his own. “I’m gay, Mama. I hope you can accept that. I can’t change who I am.”

  Wanda Nell didn’t say anything for a long moment, and she could feel the tension in TJ.’s hands, see the fear in his eyes.

  “Why did you wait so long to tell me, honey?” she asked.

  “I was afraid I’d lose you,” TJ. said. The tears began streaming from his eyes. “I was afraid to tell you, because if your mama doesn’t love you, then what are you left with?”

  “Oh, honey,” Wanda Nell said through her own tears. “I love you, and I always will. Nothing will ever change that. You’re my son.” She pulled him into her arms, and she felt his body shaking against hers.

  They stood like that for a while, both crying, with Wanda Nell stroking his back. Slowly the tears dried, and TJ. stood back.

  “Thank you, Mama,” he said, his voice rough from crying. “I know it’s gonna take some getting used to.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to his mother.

  “Yeah, it will,” Wanda Nell said honestly. She wiped the tears away with the handkerchief and gave it back to TJ. “The way I grew up, everybody said it was wrong, and most people around here are still gonna say the same thing.”

  “I know that, Mama,” TJ. said. “But I’m not going to pretend anymore.”

  “I’m not asking you to,” Wanda Nell responded. “But I can’t help but worry about what other people might do.”

  “I’m not gonna be stupid about it,” T.J. said, smiling. “And neither is Tuck.” He hesitated a moment. “Are you okay about Tuck and me? It was the last thing I expected, when he walked into the jail that day and told me you’d hired him to represent me.”

  “He’s a good man,” Wanda Nell said, “and a damn lucky one, if you really care about him that much.”

  TJ. Grinned. “I do, Mama. And he feels the same about me.”

  “He damn well better,” Wanda Nell said with mock severity, “or he’ll have to answer to me.”

  “I reckon I’m pretty lucky to have you for a mama,” TJ. said.

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the last few days,” Wanda Nell went on. “All that business with Fayetta and her mama. They about drove each other crazy because Fayetta couldn’t be what her mama wanted her to be. And I think Fayetta did drive her mama crazy. She just couldn’t handle what Fayetta was doing, and she got obsessed with looking after those children. I think she lost her mind.” She sighed. “I don’t want that to ever happen to me or one of my children.”

  “It won’t, Mama,” TJ. protested. “None of us are like that.”

  “Don’t ever be afraid to come and talk to me about anything, honey,” Wanda Nell said. “Promise me that.”

  “Okay, I promise,” TJ. said.

  “And you’re gonna have to be patient with me,” Wanda Nell said. “If I say something wrong, or misunderstand something, you tell me. Okay? Help me understand.”

  “I will, Mama.” TJ. hugged her again.

  “Is this still a private party, or can I join it?”

  Wanda Nell and TJ. turned at the sound of Tuck’s voice. He stood a few feet away, and Wanda Nell could see the anxiety in his face.

  She held out her hand to him and smiled. “Welcome to the family.”

  Arm in arm, with Wanda Nell in the middle, the three of them walked back into the sun to join the others.

  Wanda Nell’s Favorite Recipes

  Fruit Cobbler

  1½ lb. fresh or frozen (thawed) fruit cut in 1“ chunks (can use berries, peaches, rhubarb, or any juicy fruit)

  1 cup sugar

  1 cup

  1 cup flour

  1 tsp baking powder

  ½ baking soda

  4 Tbsp (½ stick) unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

  1 cup buttermilk

  Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Butter well into 2 qt baking dish. Put fruit in dish and sprinkle with 1 cup of sugar and 1 Tbsp flour. (If you like your cobbler tart, don’t use the full amount of sugar. The sweetness also depends on the fruit you use. For tarter results, use ½ cup of sugar with peaches and berries, 1 cup with rhubarb). Toss fruit in dish, spread evenly, and bake 10 minutes.

  Combine 3 Tbsp sugar, 1 cup flour, baking powder, baking soda, and butter to coarse crumbs (you can use a food processor, but it can be done with a pastry cutter or by rubbing butter into dry ingredients. You may also add nutmeg, ginger, or cinnamon to flavor the topping). Beat in buttermilk until soft dough forms.

  Remove fruit from oven and drop dough on top in 6 mounds. Sprinkle with 1 Tbsp sugar and any spice you like. Bake until fruit is bubbly and top is golden brown (20 to 30 minutes.)

  Wanda Nell’s Fried Chicken

  1 chicken, cut up

  1 tsp black pepper

  1cup milk

  1 cup Crisco oil (can substitute canola oil)

  1 cup flour

  1tsp salt

  1 egg, beaten

  Combine the flour, salt, and pepper in a heavy plastic bag or a paper bag. Combine egg and milk in a deep bowl and mix well. Drop chicken (a few pieces at a time) into the flour mixture. (If you don’t want to bother with the bag, put the flour, salt, and pepper mixture into another bowl and roll chicken pieces in it until thoroughly coated.) Remove and dip in milk mixture. Return to flour mixture, making sure the chicken is coated well. Put oil (about an inch deep) in a heavy skillet. Heat to a temperature of about 350 degrees. Place chicken in skillet and fry 20 to 25 minutes or until golden brown, turning chicken to brown on both sides. Remove from pan and drain on paper towels.

  Discover More by this Author

  Cat in the Stacks Series, writing as Miranda James

  MURDER PAST DUE

  CLASSIFIED AS MU
RDER

  FILE M FOR MURDER

  OUT OF CIRCULATION

  THE SILENCE OF THE LIBRARY

  ARSENIC AND OLD BOOKS

  NO CATS ALLOWED

  TWELVE ANGRY LIBRARIANS

  CLAWS FOR CONCERN

  Southern Ladies Series, writing as Miranda James

  BLESS HER DEAD LITTLE HEART

  DEAD WITH THE WIND

  DIGGING UP THE DIRT

  FIXING TO DIE

  Simon Kirby-Jones Mysteries, writing as Dean James

  POSTED TO DEATH

  FAKED TO DEATH

  DECORATED TO DEATH

  BAKED TO DEATH

  Trailer Park Mysteries, writing as Jimmie Ruth Evans

  FLAMINGO FATALE

  MURDER OVER EASY

  BEST SERVED COLD

  BRING YOUR OWN POISON

  LEFTOVER DEAD

  Bridge Club Mysteries, writing as Honor Hartman

  ON THE SLAM

  THE UNKINDEST CUT

  Deep South Mysteries, writing as Dean James

  CRUEL AS THE GRAVE

  CLOSER THAN THE BONES

  DEATH BY DISSERTATION

  About the Author

  Miranda James is the pseudonym of Dean James, a seventh-generation Mississippian recently returned home after over thirty years in Texas. A mystery fan since the age of ten, he wrote his first novel at the ripe old age of twelve. The only copy of The Mystery of the Willow Key vanished years ago, but since it was highly derivative of the Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden mystery series, that’s probably a good thing.

  Currently a librarian, Dean has published articles on topics in library science, the history of science/medicine, and mystery fiction. His first book, with fellow librarian Jean Swanson, was By a Woman’s Hand and won an Agatha Award. Dean and Jean collaborated on Killer Books and The Dick Francis Companion. In all he has co-authored or co-edited six works of mystery reference and one short story anthology.