“That boy,” Charlesetta sighed. “He was an imp of Satan when he was little, and he just got worse.” She sighed again. “Always coming home to his mama with his messes and expecting her to clean ’em up for him. And him still bringing his dirty laundry home to his mama, and him all grown.” She shook her head dolefully. “No matter what time of night, he come knocking on that door, and I be the one got to get up and answer it. No matter how he put nobody out.”
“Yes, I know,” Wanda Nell said. “But Miz Culpepper’s not going to take comfort from me, the way she feels. I’m sure sorry you have to have it all dumped on you.”
“Don’t you be worrying about us,” Charlesetta said, returning the consoling pat on the arm. “The Lord’ll provide, one way or another. I know He will.”
“Bless you, Charlesetta,” Wanda Nell said. “I better get going.” Charlesetta offered her a sweet smile as she escorted her to the front door.
Charlesetta had her hand on the doorknob when old Mrs. Culpepper’s voice floated imperiously down the stairs. “Charlesetta! Tell Wanda Nell to wait for me.”
“Yes’m” Charlesetta shouted back. She shrugged at Wanda Nell.
“What do you reckon she wants?” Wanda Nell whispered. All of a sudden, she wanted to bolt out the front door.
Charlesetta shrugged again. “Ain’t no telling with her, Miz Wanda Nell.”
“Charlesetta!”
“Yes’m?” The elderly maid went to the foot of the stairs and looked up. “What you need, Miz Culpepper?”
“I need your help getting dressed, you old fool. Get up here!”
Charlesetta mumbled something under her breath, but she began to make her way slowly up the stairs.
Wanda Nell called softly to her. “I’ll go wait.” Charlesetta paused for a moment, nodded her head in acknowledgment, then continued her slow progress upwards, stopping every three or four steps to rest for a moment.
Wanda Nell walked back into the parlor and resumed her former seat. Glancing around the room, she shuddered. This house needed light and laughter and a good airing. The smell of the drunken old woman who spent too much of her time in this room made Wanda Nell’s nose twitch.
She wished she had the courage to tell the old woman to go to hell and walk out of here. But she was afraid she might need Mrs. Culpepper’s money, and if putting up with the old hellcat and her insane demands was the only way to save T.J., she’d just have to do it.
Half an hour later, Wanda Nell was on the point of going outside for a few minutes simply in order to breathe some fresh air. Mrs. Culpepper came clumping down the stairs as she walked into the hallway.
Either the bath or Charlesetta, or maybe both, had worked wonders with Mrs. Culpepper. The contrast between the elegant society matron on the stairs now and the drunken wreck on the parlor sofa amazed Wanda Nell.
“Don’t stand there gawping at me, Wanda Nell,” Mrs. Culpepper said, holding her heavy pocketbook against her scrawny bosom. She came down the last few stairs and brushed past Wanda Nell to open the front door. “Come along, girl.”
Wanda Nell trailed outside behind Mrs. Culpepper, who had paused on the porch. “Go park that junk heap of yours on the street, Wanda Nell. I’m ashamed for anyone to see it in my driveway or in front of my house, but I suppose it can’t be helped. We’ll take my car to see the lawyer, and you will drive. I have a bit of a headache.”
Wanda Nell seethed at the old woman’s high-handedness, but there was no point in arguing with her. No matter how petty the old witch was, Wanda Nell was determined to hold on to her temper.
Her car moved, Wanda Nell walked back up the driveway to meet Mrs. Culpepper in front of the garage. Mrs. Culpepper punched a button, and the garage door rose. She handed her keys to Wanda Nell and waited until Wanda Nell had backed the Cadillac out. She closed the garage door, then got into the car.
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
“Nothing,” Wanda Nell muttered as she continued backing out of the driveway. “Where’s the lawyer’s office?”
“On the square, in the old Howell Building,” Mrs. Culpepper replied. “I spoke with his secretary. She’s expecting us.” During the brief drive up Main Street to the town square, Mrs. Culpepper didn’t speak again. Wanda Nell found a parking space in front of the building, and Mrs. Culpepper left her to lock the car. By the time Wanda Nell got inside, the old woman was stepping into the elevator.
Wanda Nell stuck out a hand to keep the doors from closing, and Mrs. Culpepper merely said “Third floor” as Wanda Nell stumbled into the elevator. Casting a resentful glance at the old woman, Wanda Nell punched the button.
The doors slid open on the third floor, and Mrs. Culpepper stepped out. Wanda Nell moved around her and peered at a sign on the wall opposite them. “This way,” she said, turning to the left.
Halfway down the hall she found the name HAMILTON TUCKER lettered in gold above the words ATTORNEY AT LAW. Opening the door, she strode in, not bothering to let Mrs. Culpepper precede her. The old woman closed the door with an audible thump.
Wanda Nell examined the reception area. The decor was tasteful and understated, exactly what she thought a lawyer’s office should look like. Several empty chairs awaited their choice, and magazines lay in neatly stacked piles on a couple of small end tables. Ahead of them, a frosted-glass, sliding window sported a card which read PLEASE RING BELL FOR ASSISTANCE.
Before either of them could ring the bell, the window slid open, and a plump, beaming face greeted them.
“Y’all must be Miz Lucretia Culpepper and Miz Wanda Nell Culpepper,” the woman said. “I’m Blanche Tillman, Mr. Tucker’s administrative assistant.”
“I’m here to see Mr. Tucker,” Mrs. Culpepper announced. “Kindly tell him I’m here.”
Blanche Tillman’s smile tightened a fraction at the old woman’s peremptory tone. “I’m afraid, Miz Culpepper,” she said, “that Mr. Tucker isn’t here right this minute. He’s over at the jail, taking care of your grandson. But if y’all don’t mind sitting down and making yourselves comfortable for a few minutes, he’ll be along real soon.”
“I don’t suppose I have much choice,” Mrs. Culpepper grumbled. She stalked over to a chair and plopped herself down.
Wanda Nell stepped up to the window. In an undertone, she said, “I really appreciate you getting Mr. Tucker to take T.J.’s case, Miz Tillman. And especially on a Sunday, when I’m sure you got plenty of better things to do.”
Blanche winked at Wanda Nell. “Honey, just call me Blanche. Anybody’s as good a friend of Mayrene’s as you are, I’m mighty glad to help. And don’t worry about it being Sunday. This is a lot more interesting than listening to my husband snoring on the couch.” She tilted her head slightly in the direction of Mrs. Culpepper. “Mayrene told me about that old biddy, Wanda Nell. Don’t let her rile you, hear?”
Wanda Nell smiled her thanks. Blanche wasn’t going to be bullied by the likes of Mrs. Culpepper. She felt better.
“Now, can I get y’all something?” Blanche asked, raising her voice. “Some coffee, or tea, or maybe a Coke?”
“Nothing for me,” Mrs. Culpepper said. She sat with her pocketbook in her lap, her hands folded primly across it.
“I’m fine, thanks,” Wanda Nell said.
“Okay, y’all change your mind, you just let me know,” Blanche said. She closed the window.
Wanda Nell found a seat across the room from Mrs. Culpepper and glanced idly through the stack of magazines on the table beside her. She didn’t particularly want to try to talk to her former mother-in-law, and Mrs. Culpepper had made it clear she didn’t have much to say to her.
Glancing at her watch occasionally, Wanda Nell passed the time leafing through magazines. A half hour passed, then another, and Wanda Nell wondered whether Mrs. Culpepper was wanting a nip of Jim Beam, the way she was twitching around in her chair.
The office door opened, and a tall, dark-haired man strode in. He paused in the middle of the room and looke
d back and forth between Wanda Nell and Mrs. Culpepper. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he said, in a deep, pleasant voice.
Wanda Nell examined him curiously. Her heart sank when she saw how young he was. He couldn’t be any more than thirty, and she was afraid he didn’t have enough experience to help T.J. out of the jam he was in.
“You must be Mrs. Culpepper,” he said, bending over the old woman and clasping her outstretched hand.
“Mr. Tucker,” she responded, tilting her head coquettishly. “How good of you to see me on such short notice.”
“I’m delighted to be of assistance, Mrs. Culpepper,” he said. “I must tell you, I had the greatest respect and admiration for your late husband, Judge Culpepper.” He patted her hand.
“He was a wonderful man,” Mrs. Culpepper simpered. “Thank you.”
Old buzzard was more like it, Wanda Nell thought. The late judge’s capacity for Jim Beam and young, attractive secretaries had been legendary. But he had been a powerful force in Tullahoma, and few in town had ever crossed him successfully.
Hamilton Tucker turned and walked over to Wanda Nell. “And you are T.J.’s mother,” he said, extending a hand.
Up close, he appeared slightly older. Wanda Nell noticed a few lines around his deep-set brown eyes. Maybe he was over thirty after all. He clasped her hand warmly, and Wanda Nell gazed up into a handsome face with a determined chin. He smiled warmly at her.
“Don’t worry about T.J., Mrs. Culpepper.” The confidence in his voice reassured her. “I promise you I’ll do my best for him.”
“Young man,” Mrs. Culpepper said, getting to her feet, “I am the one who is hiring you, not her. If you are ready, I would like to discuss my grandson’s case with you.”
“Certainly, Mrs. Culpepper.” Hamilton Tucker faced the old woman. “Why don’t y’all come right on in to my office?” He moved forward to open the door to the inner chambers. He gestured for the two women to precede him.
Mrs. Culpepper turned to Wanda Nell and said, “There’s no need for you to accompany me, Wanda Nell. I’ll take care of everything.”
Wanda Nell stared at the old woman.
“I think—,” Hamilton Tucker began, but Mrs. Culpepper cut him off.
“As long as I am paying your legal fees, young man, I am perfectly entitled to speak to you alone.” With that, Mrs. Culpepper swept into the inner office.
Hamilton Tucker shrugged at Wanda Nell.
“It doesn’t matter,” Wanda Nell said, sagging back into her chair. “Go ahead and talk to her, and if you need me, I’ll be right here.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Culpepper,” Tucker said. “I would like to talk to you.” He smiled, then followed the elder Mrs. Culpepper through the door.
Wanda Nell sat and stared at the closed door, struggling to hold her temper. What was the old biddy up to? Wanda Nell didn’t trust her, not one bit. But there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it, because she needed the old witch and her money.
A few minutes later, the door opened again, and out came Blanche Tillman. She came over and sat down by Wanda Nell.
“Honey, I have to tell you, I don’t know how you can put up with that old harpy.” Blanche patted Wanda Nell’s arm. “I’d be about ready to push her in front of a truck by now.”
Wanda Nell laughed. “Believe me, I’ve been tempted, many a time.” She sobered. “But right now, I ain’t got much choice, Blanche. T.J. needs a lawyer, and she’s the only one who can afford one.”
“Maybe,” Blanche said. “I sure hope your son’s gonna appreciate what you’re having to put up with for his sake.” Wanda Nell bridled slightly at the implied criticism. “That don’t really matter. I’ll do whatever I have to. The only thing that’s important is getting my son out of jail.”
“I know, honey, I know,” Blanche said.
The door opened, surprising them both. Hamilton Tucker stood in the doorway, an odd expression on his face.
“Would you join us, Mrs. Culpepper?” He frowned. “There is something I think you should hear.”
Wanda Nell got to her feet, her stomach all at once tightening into a knot. “Sure.”
Tucker waved her through the door, and she followed him into an inner chamber. The space was large and comfortable, the walls lined with bookshelves full of law books. Mrs. Culpepper sat dwarfed in a big leather chair in front of a massive old desk, and Tucker motioned for Wanda Nell to be seated in its twin. He went around the desk and sat down.
“Mrs. Culpepper,” he said, nodding his head in the direction of the old woman, “wants to put a condition on her assistance for her grandson, and I told her that you had to be told what it was.”
Wanda Nell couldn’t look at her former mother-in-law. “What is it?”
Tucker glanced down at his hands, resting on top of the desk. Then he looked back up at Wanda Nell. “In return for paying all of your son’s legal fees, Mrs. Culpepper wants you to give her custody of your daughters and grandson. She wants them to come live with her because, she says, you are an unfit mother.”
Chapter 14
Wanda Nell came up out of her chair, ready to claw the old woman’s eyes out. She caught herself in time, though, before she actually laid a hand on Mrs. Culpepper.
The lawyer had jumped up from his chair and moved, lightning-quick, around the desk to get between the two women. Wanda Nell forced herself to take a step backward, and Tucker halted, mere inches away from her. Wanda Nell took another step backward. He eyed the two of them warily, ready to move if he had to.
The blood pounding in her ears, Wanda Nell heard herself say, “You are absolutely out of your mind, old woman! Where the hell do you get off, telling anybody I’m not a good mother? I work my tail off to take care of my girls and my grandson. You’ve never raised a finger to do a damn thing for them. You don’t even know when their birthdays are.”
Mrs. Culpepper had shrunk back in her chair at first, but when she saw the lawyer ready to keep Wanda Nell away from her, she relaxed. “You see what she’s like? Those girls need to be rescued from that coarse environment before it’s too late.”
“What planet do you live on, old woman?” Chest heaving, Wanda Nell took a step closer to Mrs. Culpepper.
The lawyer tensed and held up a warning hand. “Now, ladies, I think this has gone far enough. We need to sit down and discuss this calmly and rationally.”
“How can you stand there and listen to such crap?” Wanda Nell jerked a hand in Mrs. Culpepper’s direction. “I think we oughta be talking about having her committed to Whitfield instead.”
Mrs. Culpepper didn’t like the sound of that. “Nobody is sending me off to any mental hospital. I’m just as sane as the next person, I’ll have you know.”
“Tell it to Jim Beam,” Wanda Nell said, and the old woman actually flinched.
Tucker leaned back against the desk, his legs stretched before him. Wanda Nell would have to step over him to get to the old woman. He nodded politely when she chose to resume her seat.
“Ladies, I want you to listen to me.” He folded his arms across his chest and regarded each of them in turn, his gaze stern and unyielding.
“Yes, you just explain it all to her,” Mrs. Culpepper said, leaning forward eagerly. “I’m sure you can take care of it quite easily, can’t you?” Her hands fumbled with the clasp of her pocketbook. “I’ve got my checkbook right here. Money is no object, I assure you.”
Wanda Nell gripped the arms of her chair. She was so angry she could have ripped the leather right off the frame. She couldn’t listen to any more of this craziness.
“Mrs. Culpepper,” Tucker said, speaking to the old woman. “I want you to listen to me, and listen very carefully.” He waited until her attention was focused on him before continuing. “I cannot do what you ask. No judge is simply going to award you custody of your granddaughters and your great grandson just because you want them to. Furthermore, I will not be a party to the kind of bargain you are suggesting. No judge would uphold su
ch an agreement, especially one made under such obvious duress.”
He paused, but Mrs. Culpepper did not respond.
“Do you understand me, Mrs. Culpepper? I cannot, and I will not, do as you ask. But I will agree to act on your grandson’s behalf, if you want me to.”
Mrs. Culpepper rose unsteadily to her feet. She clutched her pocketbook to her chest. “Young man, I will not be spoken to in those tones. I cannot believe you have the slightest regard for my late husband. If you did, you would do everything in your power to do what I want.” She cast a venomous glance at Wanda Nell. “This piece of trash here has no doubt promised you something so that you won’t listen to me. I’m not in the least surprised she’s reneging on her pledge to me.” Before either of them realized what she was going to do, the old woman spat on the floor, just missing Tucker’s shoes.
“Mrs. Culpepper!” The lawyer shot up straight, and for a moment, Wanda Nell thought she was going to have to get between him and the old woman.
Mrs. Culpepper ignored them both as she made her way to the door. Her hand on the knob, she turned back to them for a moment. “You leave me no choice. I’ll have to seek legal help elsewhere. Fortunately, there are still men in Tullahoma who remember my husband. They’ll do their utmost to see that justice prevails. I can promise you that.”
She had the door open and was about to leave when Wanda Nell called out to her. “Here, you’ll need these.” She brandished the car keys in her fist. When she had Mrs. Culpepper’s attention, she threw them at her. They hit the wall near the door and dropped to the floor at the old woman’s feet. Mrs. Culpepper didn’t say a word as she bent down unsteadily and scooped up the keys.
“Give my regards to Jim Beam,” Wanda Nell called out. The door slammed shut behind Mrs. Culpepper.
Wanda Nell turned back to find Hamilton Tucker regarding her with a curious smile. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You must think I’m awful, acting that way.”
“I would say you had plenty of provocation,” Tucker responded.
“Yeah, but I shouldn’t let her get to me like that. What am I going to do now, Mr. Tucker? Without her money, I can’t afford a lawyer for T.J. And I sure can’t afford a lawyer to keep her from taking my girls away from me.” Reaction began to set in, and Wanda Nell shivered. She rubbed her arms up and down to warm herself.
Flamingo Fatale (A Trailer Park Mystery Book 1) Page 18
