Leftover Dead

by Jimmie Ruth Evans

  Jack turned to Wanda Nell in dismay. “I hadn’t thought about that. We’re going to have to be pretty careful when we get home.” He turned back to King. “I did give Howell a note with my name and phone numbers on it, when I went back to talk to him the second time. I don’t suppose you’ve found that piece of paper anywhere?”

  “Not that I recall, but I’ll be sure to tell them to look for it. Even if it does turn up next door, I think it’s my duty to warn you that you might be in danger anyway. We have no way of knowing what Howell told the killer, or what the killer could have figured out from your car being on the street in front of this house.”

  Wanda Nell shuddered. “Maybe he was in too much of a hurry to notice our car. But what if he’d tried to break in here, looking for us?”

  “He probably wanted to get in and out of here as quickly as he could, and he might have figured you were less of a threat than Howell,” King said. “But we’re just guessing at this point. When you do get home, though, I think you need to be on the lookout for anything strange.”

  “We certainly will,” Jack said. “I hate to say it, but both of us have been in this position before.” He shrugged. “One thing this whole situation tells me, though, is that we must be on the right track. Otherwise, why would Howell have been killed?”

  “And were we responsible for getting him killed?” Wanda Nell asked, looking at Jack. He nodded in agreement. “That really bothers me.”

  “I can understand that,” King said. “But you didn’t force Howell to make the choices he made. It was his responsibility, not yours.”

  “Exactly, Rufus.” Miss Lyda’s tone was emphatic.

  “Don’t you two go blaming yourselves for this. The seeds of this tragedy were sown long ago. I think it’s terrible that Mr. Howell has died the way he did, but I’m convinced good will come of it yet. You’re going to find out who murdered that beautiful child all those years ago, and that person will have to face up to it.”

  “Thank you, Miss Lyda,” Wanda Nell said, clasping the little woman’s hand in hers.

  “ ‘Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall,’ ” Miss Lyda quoted. “That’s what the Good Book tells us. Proverbs, chapter 16, verse 18. But it might as well say ‘stupidity’ instead of ‘pride.’ Howell was a stupid, venal man, and he brought destruction upon himself.”

  “Exactly, Miss Lyda,” King said. Glancing at his watch, he rose from his seat. “Y’all will have to excuse me. I’ve got to go see Mr. Howell’s grandnephew. I need to talk to the family, and apparently the nephew is away on business.” He stared hard at Jack. “I may be back with more questions later, and I’ll expect to find you here until tomorrow morning.”

  “We’ll be here,” Jack promised. King nodded and headed for the door.

  Wanda Nell muttered “Excuse me” and followed him. She caught up with him in the hallway. “Mr. King,” she said.

  He stopped and turned to face her. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “My husband and I won’t leave until you tell us it’s okay, but I was wondering if it would be okay for one of us to leave the house for a little while.”

  “To do what?”

  Wanda Nell glanced over her shoulder before replying. “Well, I got to noticing this morning that Miss Lyda doesn’t have a lot of food on hand, and I thought maybe Jack or I could go to the grocery store. We don’t want to be a burden on her, but I’m afraid we will be.”

  King smiled briefly. “That’s very kind of you. Miss Lyda has her pride, and she would never say a thing to you about it. But I’m sure she’d be grateful to you for thinking of it, and I know you’ll do it in a way that won’t embarrass her.”

  “Thank you,” Wanda Nell said. “So it’s okay if Jack or I go to the grocery store.”

  “I’ll let my men know,” King promised.

  Wanda Nell went back to the kitchen feeling better. Having seen the contents of their hostess’s refrigerator and her pantry, she had been concerned about the effect their continued presence would have on Miss Lyda’s budget. It might be that Miss Lyda simply didn’t keep much food on hand because she didn’t eat a lot, but just in case, Wanda Nell didn’t want to cause their hostess any hardship.

  Once again in the kitchen, Wanda Nell asked, “Miss Lyda, do you like fried chicken and homemade biscuits?”

  “I surely do. My mother used to make the best fried chicken, and her biscuits were so good, you could eat them by themselves and think you were having a special treat. I never learned how to make them as good as she could, though.”

  “Wanda Nell knows how to make them,” Jack said. He nodded at Wanda Nell to show that he understood what she was doing. “And her fried chicken is something else, too.”

  “I was just thinking,” Wanda Nell said, resuming her seat beside Miss Lyda, “that I sure would love to be doing something to help pass the time. And at home I usually cook. So if you don’t mind, maybe I could cook our lunch, and our dinner tonight.”

  Miss Lyda smiled uncertainly. “That’s very kind of you, dear, but I’m not sure I have what you need. I haven’t been to the grocery store lately.”

  “That’s not a problem,” Jack said. “I can run to the grocery store and pick up whatever Wanda Nell wants, if you don’t mind telling me how to find the grocery store around here.”

  Miss Lyda explained how to find the grocery store where she shopped, and Wanda Nell found a pencil and a piece of paper and made a list for Jack. He headed to the bathroom to take a shower, promising to be ready to go in a few minutes.

  “It won’t be long before we’re all ready for lunch,” Wanda Nell said, her list finally complete.

  “It’s very kind of you to do the cooking. I’m afraid I never was very good in the kitchen.” She got to her feet. “Let me just get my purse so I can give Jack the money.”

  “Miss Lyda,” Wanda Nell said, placing a hand gently on her hostess’s arm, “considering all the trouble we’ve put you to, it would mean a lot to me if you’d let us do this. It’s a small enough thing to do to thank you for your hospitality. Staying here with you has been so much nicer than staying in some motel where you don’t know whether the sheets are really clean or not.”

  Miss Lyda protested once, but Wanda Nell soon overcame her objections, and she agreed to let Jack and Wanda Nell buy the groceries. By the time they had settled it between them, Jack came into the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed in clean clothes.

  He accepted the list from Wanda Nell, repeated the directions to Miss Lyda, then left. Wanda Nell accompanied him to the front door.

  “Did she fuss much about our paying for the food?” he asked.

  “A little,” Wanda Nell admitted. “But I got her to agree to it. She’s such a sweet lady. I wish we could take her home with us. I hate to think of her living here all by herself.”

  “I know, honey.” Jack gave her a quick kiss. “But she does have friends here, and her church, and from what she told us last night at dinner, they’re pretty good about checking up on her.”

  “You’re right,” Wanda Nell said. “Now be careful, and if you think of anything I might have left off the list, go ahead and get it.”

  “Will do.” After one more kiss, not quite as quick this time, Jack left.

  While Jack was gone, Wanda Nell decided she would shower and change clothes, too. Seeing that Miss Lyda had a small washer and dryer in a utility closet in the kitchen, Wanda Nell asked if she could wash the clothes she and Jack had worn the day before. She had packed very lightly for this trip, not really expecting to be away two nights.

  “Of course,” Miss Lyda said. “Now you go on and have your shower, and as soon as you’re done, we’ll put your clothes in the washer.”

  Wanda Nell stood gratefully under the hot water of the shower. Her back was a little stiff from riding in the car the day before and from an unfamiliar bed, and she could feel the muscles relaxing thanks to the heat. As she showered, she thought about the events of the past few
days. Had it really only been Sunday that Jack had come home to tell her about the poor dead girl on the football field?

  They had made good progress very quickly, but she hated the fact that another person had died because of this. What was so important that someone had killed two people over it? Was it simply shame over a baby born out of wedlock? A prominent man has an affair with a maid, gets her pregnant, and when the child comes back looking for her father, someone kills her to keep the truth from coming out?

  Wanda Nell shook her head over these thoughts as she dried herself. The second murder made more sense, because of course the killer didn’t want to be exposed for the first murder. It all came down to the motive behind Jenna Rae’s murder. Was shame at the root of it all? Or was there more to the story? Wanda Nell figured money had to be involved somehow. Maybe Jenna Rae’s biological father was really rich, and someone hadn’t wanted to share with an illegitimate half sister.

  That made some sense, at least. People would do all kinds of nasty things for the sake of the almighty dollar. Wanda Nell had seen plenty of that in her forty-two years on this earth.

  By the time Wanda Nell was dressed and had freshened her makeup, Jack had returned from the grocery store. He and Miss Lyda were putting things away in the kitchen when Wanda Nell came in with her hands full of the clothes she wanted to wash.

  Jack greeted her with a quick kiss. “I thought, since you’re going to cook your famous fried chicken and biscuits for dinner tonight, maybe I’d make a batch of chili for lunch, and maybe some cornbread. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds good,” Wanda Nell said. “What do you think, Miss Lyda?”

  “It sounds good to me, too. Plus I think it will be fun to watch a man cooking in this kitchen. My father, bless his soul, never once in his life cooked anything.”

  Wanda Nell and Jack laughed, and while Jack got busy with his preparations for lunch, Miss Lyda showed Wanda Nell how to use her washing machine.

  “It’s getting pretty old, just like me,” she said cheerfully, “but she’s still got some miles in her. Just like me.”

  The three of them had a pleasant lunch, and by tacit agreement, none of them spoke of either of the murders. Instead, Miss Lyda continued to regale them with bits of Hattiesburg history and stories from her many years as a teacher in the public school system.

  After lunch Miss Lyda confided that she always had a little “lie down” in the afternoon, and while she rested, Jack and Wanda Nell got on their cell phones to bring family and friends up to date on what had been going on in Hattiesburg.

  Wanda Nell checked on Juliet first, and she was pleased to hear that Juliet was doing fine with her grandmother and Belle. Wanda Nell called Ernie Carpenter next, because she knew Ernie would be about to bust from curiosity by this point. She spent nearly half an hour on the phone with Ernie, and Ernie promised to do a little digging to see if she could find out anything about Howell’s time in Tullahoma.

  When Wanda Nell ended her call with Ernie, she looked across the table at Jack. He was busy scribbling something in his notebook.

  “What did T.J. have to say?” Wanda Nell asked.

  “He hasn’t had any luck so far tracking down a marriage license for Howell and Margaret,” Jack said with a frown. “You know, I’m beginning to wonder if they were actually married.”

  “Maybe they got married down here somewhere,” Wanda Nell said. “We’ve been assuming they would have gotten married before they left Tullahoma, but maybe they didn’t. Seems to me that someone didn’t want any kind of record of them in Tullahoma, so maybe they waited till they got here to do it.”

  “Good point, I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll call T.J. back and ask him to check around here.” Jack reached for his phone, but it started ringing as he picked it up. He looked at the screen to see the caller’s number. “That’s odd,” he said as he answered the call.

  “This is Jack Pemberton. Yes, sir, I’m actually out of town on business at the moment.”

  Jack listened, and Wanda Nell watched him. He was scowling, and that didn’t bode well. He said “Yes, sir,” a few more times before ending the call. He set his phone down and looked across the table at his wife.

  “Who was that?” Wanda Nell asked, worried. “From the look on your face, it wasn’t good news.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” Jack’s voice was grim. “That was the superintendent of the school system. He wants to see me as soon as we get back home. Someone’s been complaining about me, it seems. He’s concerned that I’m engaging in activities not suitable for a teacher in his school district.”

  Twenty-two

  “He actually had the nerve to say that to you?” Wanda Nell could feel her temper stirring, but she was also beginning to feel more than a little nervous.

  “He did, so that means someone in Tullahoma knows what we’re doing.” Jack folded his arms across his chest and gazed at Wanda Nell. “I was hoping we could stay under the radar for a little bit longer.”

  “Do you think it was the person who killed Mr. Howell?”

  “If it wasn’t, it was someone connected to him who has influence with the superintendent. I’m not going to back down. There’s no reason I can’t do this. I’m going to call his bluff.”

  “Good for you, honey.” Wanda Nell hated people who tried bullying other people. “But you better be real careful when you talk to him face to face. I don’t know him, or what he’s like, but if he’s feeling pressured, no telling how he might react.”

  Jack shrugged, his arms still crossed. “He’s never impressed me as having much of a spine, to be honest. If he had one, he’d stick up more for the teachers, but he pretty much leans whichever way the wind is blowing.”

  “In that case, you’d better see if Tuck can go with you when you talk to him. Maybe having a lawyer with you will make him back down.”

  “Not a bad idea. I’ll call Tuck later on and ask his advice.” He grinned. “Having a lawyer for a son-in-law can be a handy thing, can’t it?”

  Wanda Nell smiled. She loved the way Jack had fit so easily into her family. “It sure can. He’s a good man to have on your side.”

  Jack agreed. “I think I’d better call Elmer Lee again and tell him about this latest little twist. This whole thing could blow up suddenly, and he needs to be prepared.”

  While Jack talked to Elmer Lee, Wanda Nell tidied the kitchen and finished her small load of laundry. Miss Lyda came into the kitchen while Wanda Nell was folding the clothes. She looked around the kitchen. “My goodness, Wanda Nell,” she said. “You’ve gone and cleaned up everything. I was going to do that.”

  “Now, Miss Lyda,” Wanda Nell said with a smile, “my mama didn’t raise me to leave someone’s kitchen a mess. It certainly didn’t take me very long. Everything was so tidy to begin with. I don’t know how you keep such a clean house.”

  Miss Lyda turned slightly pink. “Well, I do keep busy, but once a week I have some help. A dear girl who was one of my students comes in one day a week.”

  “Good. Now how about you sit down here and let me get you something to drink. Would you like me to make some coffee? Or something else?”

  Miss Lyda sat down, smiling. “I declare, I’m going to be thoroughly spoiled by the time you have to leave tomorrow.” Her smile disappeared. “I sure am going to miss having you here. But you have some important work to finish.”

  “We do, but just because we have to go back to Tullahoma doesn’t mean you’ll never hear from me again.” She stooped to hug Miss Lyda. “Now, how about that drink?”

  “I’d love a cup of hot tea.” Miss Lyda directed Wanda Nell to the cabinet where her tea kettle and the canister of tea were stored.

  Wanda Nell and Jack spent a companionable afternoon with their hostess, and by the time Wanda Nell started her preparations for supper, she felt completely at home in Miss Lyda’s kitchen.

  Jack had just helped her set everything on the table when a knock sounded at the front door. “I’ll go,”
Jack said.

  He came back moments later with Rufus King, who stared hungrily at the table full of fried chicken, cream gravy, green beans, creamed corn, and biscuits. Wanda Nell immediately invited him to join them. “We have plenty,” she said, and Miss Lyda added her invitation to Wanda Nell’s.

  “Well, I really shouldn’t.” King ruefully patted his waistline. “My wife would have a fit. She’s been trying to keep me eating healthy. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve seen food like that.”

  “We won’t tell Adaline, I promise,” Miss Lyda said. “I know we shouldn’t tempt you like this, Rufus, but you’re more than welcome.”

  Temptation won, and Rufus sat down at the fourth place at the table. No one spoke again until all four plates were served, and Miss Lyda offered a short blessing.

  Wanda Nell couldn’t help but smile at the expression on King’s face after he stuck the first forkful of biscuit and gravy in his mouth. Miss Lyda looked pretty happy, too.

  “Just as good as my dear mama’s,” she said.

  Jack raised his glass of iced tea and proposed a toast. “To Miss Lyda.” Wanda Nell and King joined in, and Miss Lyda turned pink as she shyly raised her own glass.

  After a few minutes of silent enjoyment of the food, Miss Lyda spoke. “Rufus, is there anything new you can share with us?” She looked around the table. “I know we’re all about as curious as we can be.”

  “There’s not much to tell at this point.” King set aside his fork for the moment. “We did find out from the grandnephew that Howell received a small pension from the family business, but it wasn’t much. Certainly not enough to account for the kind of spending we’ve uncovered.”

  “So it’s looking like blackmail is more certain,” Jack commented.

  King nodded. “He was definitely getting extra cash from somewhere. We’re working on getting access to his bank records, but that could take a little while. But for now I’m working on the theory that he was getting paid by whoever killed him. Or by someone connected to the killer.”