Diana Anderson - Entering Southern Country 01 - Famous in a Small Town

by Diana Anderson

  The end table had been toppled from what looked like a struggle. Blood splatter covered the walls over the headboard as well as the carpet around the bed.

  “Find anything I can go on right now?” Cal asked.

  Porter looked up and shook her head. “No, sir.”

  11

  Raven peered under her camel tan leather sofa in search of her misplaced shoe. She reached underneath and grabbed her high heel and caught sight of a pink hair ribbon. She latched onto the satiny fabric strip, stood up, and then slipped on her heels. She grabbed her purse off the glass topped coffee table, slipped the ribbon inside, and headed toward the front door of her apartment. The house phone rang. She glanced back and thought not to answer it. She didn’t want to be late for her appointment with the editor. She reached for the doorknob, hesitated, and thought that it might be important. She turned back toward the phone in her bedroom and hurried over to her bedside table. She didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID. She snatched up the receiver.

  “Hello?”

  She heard a sniff. “Baby? It’s Momma.”

  Raven dropped her purse onto the bed. Her eyes darted from side to side as she tried to figure out why her mother cried—let alone call her.

  “Momma, what’s wrong?”

  She sniffed again. “Oh, baby, it’s horrible. You’ve got to come home this instant,” she sobbed.

  “Momma, calm down and tell me what’s wrong.”

  She continued to wail in her ear. Raven flinched.

  “Take a breath and talk to me.” She’d never seen her mother shed real tears. She wasn’t convinced that these were real but rather one of her poor-pitiful-me routines that Raven had experienced many times while growing up. If her mother couldn’t cry to get what she wanted, then she would use other methods.

  Her mother took a long breath and then said, “It’s your daddy.”

  12

  The Blues Room was located near the western outskirts of Cypress just off the main highway. On the inside, the dark paneling reflected light from the wall sconces around the barroom. The lone pool table sat in the back of the room unattended. The mirrored shelves behind the bar held a large assortment of bottles that contained a variety of liquor.

  Angus had gone over and over in his mind—how had he let that little bitch get one over on him? He had thought of himself as a smart man. He’d never gotten caught in his underhanded ways in the past. He’d been good at scheming all of his life. The thought that he might be getting senile left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  He gulped his bourbon down and nodded to the bartender for another. The bartender poured another drink and slid it in front of him. He picked it up, walked over, and sat down at a table near the back of the bar. He gazed into the amber liquid in his glass as if waiting for an answer to visualize. He hadn’t given her the combination to his safe.

  How in the hell did she get it?

  He had it memorized, and Suzanne hadn’t been in the safe in over a year. He’d never written it down or even spoken it out loud. He took another drink. Someone brushed against his arm and sat down next to him.

  “Why, big Daddy, what’re you lookin’ all down in the mouth about?” she asked.

  He turned his head toward her. “Imogene, I’m not in the mood right now.”

  “Oh?” She leaned in close, and one of her large breasts rubbed against his arm. The corners of her full red lips turned up. With her long red fingernails, she combed back her auburn hair that had fallen across her brow. Through lowered lashes, she eyed him. “Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

  He glanced down at the store bought pair of tits that bulged out of a red blouse and felt a twinge between his legs. He looked back at his drink. “I’ve got a lot on my mind, and I need to be alone to work it out. You need to run along.”

  She sighed. “I’ve missed you, big Daddy. You just all of a sudden left me hangin’.”

  Blame it on Lupe, he thought but tried not to feel foolish.

  Imogene was good in bed, or where ever they decided, but Lupe was a lot younger and a lot less used. He ran a hand over his face.

  “Well, if you change your mind.” She slid around in her chair to get up.

  He grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand down to his crotch. “Maybe you could take care of this,” he said and watched her.

  “Same price?” she asked and flashed her eyes at him.

  He nodded.

  She ran her tongue over her upper lip. “Well now, I believe I can take care of that for you.”

  13

  Thick, gray clouds poured down rain in sheets as Raven steered her rental off the interstate and onto Highway Four east. She had set the GPS according to the directions her mother had given her.

  Raven had called Rebecca and explained the situation, and told her that she was unsure of her return date. Raven had rescheduled her meeting with her editor and publisher later on in the week. Rebecca had assured her that she could handle the meeting without her presence if for some reason she wasn’t back in time. She promised her she would take care of anything else that might come up as well.

  Raven had taken the earliest flight from LaGuardia Airport to Memphis International with a thirty-five minute layover in Chicago. She had rented a black Ford Mustang. She’d always wanted one, and since she’d be coming into some money soon what better way to try one out? Of course, driving on the streets of New York City would be inconceivable. But she didn’t plan to live there much longer, now that her ship had come in, she’d been thinking of a home somewhere in the country. What part of the country—she hadn’t decided. The six figures was something she had yet to grasp. She’d had some income from royalties on her novels and had written articles for women’s magazines to supplement her income, but now she would be able to fully concentrate on her next novel.

  The rain had let up enough to have the windshield wipers on the minimum speed. She was able to pick up to the speed limit. She was exhausted, and it was more than physical exhaustion. Mentally, she still hadn’t prepared herself for seeing her mother again. They had parted ways with insufferable words spoken on her mother’s part and none on her own. The memory of it and everything in her past tried to force its way to the forefront of her sanity. She resolved not to let that happen. If she did, she might not survive it this time.

  She had kept herself busy over the years and had refused to dwell on the things she wasn’t able to change or repair. When she had left home, she had faced many hardships, but she’d worked to get past them. It had been her co-worker at the diner, where she’d worked in Cypress, who had talked her into attending church with her one Sunday morning in Oxford, Mississippi. That Sunday morning Pastor John Higgins and his wife, Sarah, had taken her under their wing. With their nurturing and guidance, she was able to go on with her life. They had welcomed her into their home with open arms. She had worked and put herself through college at Ole Miss.

  Over time and with their help, she had put the past behind her and had let it go. There had been no future in remembering and no great expectation that she would ever return home. Through prayer, she had stayed focused on her goals and had worked hard to improve her talent. As hard as it had been, she had been determined to move forward and not look back. As soon as the required arrangements were made for the funeral and everything that had necessitated her return to Cypress, Mississippi was resolved, she’d be on her way and hoped she would never have a reason to return again.

  Her mother hadn’t known where she had gone right after she’d left home. Raven doubted that she even cared. She had lived in Oxford, Mississippi for four years, and not a soul from Cypress had known she lived close to her hometown.

  John and Sarah Higgins now lived in the beautiful countryside in New York State. They owned and operated Petits Anges, a Christian summer camp for children, in Delaware County. Raven had visited them many times and loved the rural area. On some weekends and holidays, she had escaped the big city for a getaway to their
warm and loving home.

  She made the turn as instructed per Miss GPS and followed the instructions for several miles down a two lane highway. The rain had stopped by the time she had made the final turn into the driveway. She stopped the car in front of an opened ornate, black, iron gate. She gaped at the view before her. The two story antebellum mansion sat on a hilltop in the middle of a magnificent estate. The grounds were immaculate. Flowering white crepe myrtles lined the winding driveway that circled around a large fountain that sat in the middle of a flowerbed of bright pink azaleas. Four large white columns supported a balcony and were spaced evenly across the veranda that spread from one end of the house to the other. Two enormous magnolia trees in bloom sat on either side of the mansion.

  I must have written down the wrong address.

  She put the gearshift into Park and reached across the console for her purse. She fished around inside, pulled out a slip of paper, and read the address again. She dropped the gearshift into Reverse, backed up a few feet, and stopped. The address sign on one of the brick columns that supported the iron gate agreed with what she had written.

  “Hmmm.”

  She dropped the gearshift into Drive, drove up to the house, and parked. She stepped out of the car. Heels clicked on the front porch. Raven turned toward the sound. Her mother stood at the top of the steps, dressed in skintight, lime colored capri pants, a sequined tank top, and a pair of white strappy heels. With arms opened wide, she hurried down the steps and around to the driver’s side.

  “Agnes, baby, it’s just so horrible,” Callie said.

  Raven closed her eyes and winced. Callie wrapped her arms around her and began to sob. Raven was three inches taller than her mother’s five foot, three inch frame. She patted her mother’s shoulders as an expected gesture and waited until her mother had control of her feigned outburst. When her mother took a deep breath, Raven stepped out of her arms. Her mother’s embrace had shocked Raven. She had never been hugged or shown any form of affection by her mother that she ever remembered. She glanced at the house and saw a curtain move.

  So that’s it. She has an audience.

  “Let me look at you,” Callie stepped back and gave her the once over. “You’ve filled out in all the right places and look at your hair. It’s so long now. I hated brushing the tangles out of that mess when you were little. I had to keep it cut short. I couldn’t deal with it.”

  “I remember, Momma.”

  Callie frowned. “I believe you’re taller now too. But something’s missing.” She put her index finger to her lips, eyed her a long moment, and then asked, “Didn’t you used to wear glasses?”

  Raven closed her eyes and imagined a warm, sunny beach. When she looked back, she said, “I wear contacts now.”

  Her mother leaned her head back and peered down her nose as she looked into Raven’s eyes. “Are they colored contacts?”

  Raven closed her eyes again and pictured fluttering butterflies. After the tension in her jaw relaxed, she opened her eyes again. “No, Momma, blue is my natural color.”

  “Well, they’re light blue now.”

  Raven exhaled a quiet sigh. She had nothing else to envision. “They’ve always been light blue.”

  Callie glanced at the Mustang. “You seemed to be doing well … whatever it is you’re doing these days.”

  Raven eyed the mansion. “I could say the same about you?”

  Callie’s eyes followed Raven’s. “Isn’t it grand?”

  Raven looked back at her mother. “How’d you manage this? You work here?”

  Callie placed her hand over her heart. “Heavens no!” She studied Raven a moment. “You don’t know, do you?”

  “How would I know anything about you, Momma? You cut me off years ago.”

  Callie’s mouth gaped. “I did no such a thing, Agnes.”

  “Don’t call me that.” Raven’s eyes flared.

  “What am I supposed to call you?” She placed her hands on her hips.

  “Raven, Momma. My name is Raven now.”

  “Raven?” she said as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t remember. When I left home, I had my name changed. We argued about it over the phone. Our last conversation, not counting yesterday.”

  Callie looked away for a moment in thought and then looked back at her. “Well, I don’t remember it, but for the sake of argument, saying what you said is true, which I doubt, why in the world would you change your name?”

  “The same reason I changed my last name. The same reason I left home. The same reason I swore I’d never return.”

  Callie smirked, crossed her arms over her chest, and put her weight on one leg. “Well, my dear, Raven, looks like you’re back now.”

  Raven decided to change the subject. “Where am I staying for the duration?” She looked at the mansion again.

  “Why, here of course.” Callie looked surprised and dropped her arms.

  Raven cut her eyes at her.

  Callie said, “This is my home Ag … Raven.”

  “Whose balls did you nail to the wall for this?”

  Callie’s eyes shot fiery darts at her. “How dare you! I told you I remarried.”

  No way, shape, or form of that conversation ever existed. “Well, for the sake of argument, tell me again.”

  Callie took an exaggerated breath. “Your daddy and I divorced, and I remarried.”

  Raven wasn’t too surprised, but was more than curious as to how her mother managed a wealthy husband. “To whom?”

  “Dr. Theodore Wallace. He’s one of the most highly respected men in the county. He’s worth millions.”

  “Well, congratulations, Momma. You’ve finally gotten what you’ve always wanted.”

  “I resent that, and I resent your tone of voice. I worked hard all of my life to provide for you. I put up with your father’s asinine ways for years just trying to hold our little family together, but you never appreciated my efforts. You were always selfish, and I can see now that you haven’t changed, you still are.”

  Raven had never been able to hold a decent conversation with her mother. She had likened it to driving ninety miles an hour into a brick wall. “Maybe I should get a motel room.”

  “Nonsense. You’re already here, and Ted is dying to meet you. I won’t deny him that. Quit being such a baby and come along.” Callie turned and walked toward the front steps.

  “I need to get my luggage.” Raven stepped to the driver’s side of the car, opened the door, and popped the trunk. She walked around to the back and pulled out a suitcase and a tote. She shut the trunk and made her way toward the house.

  Callie looked over her shoulder, frowned, and asked, “Is that all you’ve brought with you?”

  “It’s enough for no longer than I’m staying.”

  Callie turned toward her. “You’re staying for the funeral, aren’t you?”

  “That’s why I came.”

  She eyed her suitcase again. “Well, Agnes, they haven’t even done the autopsy on him yet. It maybe weeks before they release your daddy’s body to be buried.”

  Raven stopped in front of Callie. “What autopsy? Why are they doing an autopsy?”

  “Why, didn’t I tell you when I called you?”

  “No, Momma, you didn’t tell me.” She shook her head. “You were squalling so loud I could barely make out anything you said.”

  “Well, I was so upset with the way he’d died.” She looked down at her hand and picked at a broken fingernail. “It was hard enough to comprehend let alone say it out loud.”

  “What happened?”

  She eyed her a moment and then said, “Virgil was brutally murdered.”

  14

  “It’ll be a few days before the M.E.’s report is ready,” Cal said to the assistant district attorney over his cell phone. We had a team over there combing the place. Don’t know what they found or when their report will be available. Of course, forensics wi
ll have to go over everything. Don’t know how long that will take or how long their waiting list might be.”

  “What’s your take on this?”

  “Hell if I know. Bloodiest mess I’ve ever seen. It’s apparent somebody was very angry.”

  “So you don’t think it was a robbery?” the A.D.A. asked.

  “Virgil Neal didn’t have anything that anyone would want to take other than his hunting rifles, and they are still in his closet. No, but it’s apparent they were tortured for some reason before their merciful death.”

  “Was the woman raped?”

  “On the preliminary investigation, it didn’t appear so, but we’ll know more when the coroner’s report comes in,” Cal said.

  “Have you talked with any of the family members yet?”

  “I’m on my way there now.” Cal disconnected.

  Cal thought that maybe he should have let one of the deputies handle the task at hand, but he wasn’t a coward. He just wasn’t sure how this meeting would go.

  15

  Ted seems nice enough. Raven was puzzled at his genuine politeness since he was married to her mother. The Lord only knew what he saw in her. His condolence for her loss had been sincere. His pale blue eyes revealed kindness and added to the perplexity of his relationship with her mother. Did he know her mother the way she did?

  Apparently not.

  Callie was proficient at deception and manipulation. He must work long hours to not have discovered her true nature. But Callie had had many years to perfect her devious ways. If she had changed, Raven doubted it. She knew her all to well.

  While she sat at the table and had lunch in the elaborate dining room across from her mother, Raven’s suspicions were confirmed when the gardener stepped in the doorway. Raven listened as Ted answered her inquiry about his position as a Neurosurgeon at the Wallace and Hartford Neurosurgical Clinic in Memphis, but she diverted her eyes to her mother. Callie, with a look of hunger, scanned the length of the gardener while he made a request to be off earlier that evening because his sister was ill and needed his assistance.