Bring Your Own Poison (18 page)

Wanda Nell kissed her good-bye. As she let herself out of the trailer she glanced across at Mayrene's. It was a little too early for Mayrene to be home from the beauty salon where she worked, and there was no sign of Lisa or her car. Wanda Nell frowned. If she had time tonight, she would give Mayrene a call and see if she had heard anything from Dixon Vance. Maybe he'd had time to do a little digging into Lisa's case.

As she pulled out of the trailer park driveway, Wanda Nell thought about Dixon Vance. He had to be Tiffany Farwell's uncle from what Mrs. Culpepper had told her. Tuck would surely verify that, and she would double-check with him before she said anything to Mayrene, just in case.

When she reached the Kountry Kitchen, she said hello to Melvin, busily bussing tables, and waved at a few of the regulars. She passed Ruby Garner behind the counter and patted her on the shoulder. Stopping to chat with the kitchen workers, Lurene the cook and Elray the dishwasher, she found out that the police had made a real mess in the back room. Melvin had paid Elray extra to help clean up this afternoon and get it ready for the evening.

“It's a good thing they finished, though,” Wanda Nell said after commiserating with Elray. “It sure would be awful if we had to turn people away because we couldn't use the back room.”

Her purse safely stowed away in its usual place in the back, she went back out front. She was wearing her ring, and she thought about telling Melvin and Ruby right away about her engagement. Then she decided, just for fun, to see how long it took them to notice. She figured Melvin would probably see it first.

She was making a fresh pot of coffee when she heard the door open. Turning to see who the newcomer was, she almost dropped the coffee pot.

What on earth was Tiffany Farwell doing here?

Tiffany Farwell paused inside the door of the restaurant, staring about uncertainly. Wanda Nell set the coffeepot down and made her way to where Tiffany stood.

Now that she saw the young woman in the flesh, Wanda Nell could understand why men acted like rutting stags around her. T.J. had said she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, and Wanda Nell had to agree with him. Tiffany had a figure that called to mind some of the movie bombshells of days gone by, and her face was breath-stoppingly lovely. The dress she wore complemented her coloring but did little to conceal the voluptuous curves beneath it. The men in the restaurant had all stopped talking, eating, or drinking. Their eyes were practically out on stalks, Wanda Nell noted with amusement. Tiffany appeared not to notice what was going on. She was probably well used to it.

“Good evening,” Wanda Nell said. “Would you like a table? Or can I help you with something else?”

“I'm not sure,” Tiffany said. “Is this where it happened?”

Her voice was low and vibrant. She stared at Wanda Nell, and, looking into those blue eyes, Wanda Nell had the distinct feeling there was plenty of empty space in Tiffany's head.

Even though she knew what Tiffany meant by her question, Wanda Nell nevertheless had to ask. “Where did
what
happen?”

Tiffany blinked. “Didn't I just ask you?”

“You did,” Wanda Nell said, suppressing a sigh. “Are you talking about the man who died here on Saturday night?”

Nodding, Tiffany said, “Yes. Can you show me where it happened?”

The younger woman's request made Wanda Nell uneasy. It was more than a bit morbid, Wanda Nell thought.

“I guess so,” Wanda Nell said. “Come with me.” She led the way toward the restaurant's back room. As she walked, she was very conscious that every male eye in the place was following Tiffany's progress behind her.

Wanda Nell stepped aside, and Tiffany walked past her into the back room. This early in the evening, the room was still vacant. Wanda Nell could talk to the girl without anyone overhearing.

“Here?” she asked. She glanced around, cowering a little, almost as if she were afraid.

“Yes,” Wanda Nell said. “The party was in this room.”

“Did you see him die?” Tiffany asked, turning to stare at her. Her whole body was trembling.

“Yes, I did,” Wanda Nell said. This was getting more and more creepy by the moment. What was the point of all this?

Her legs a bit shaky under her, Tiffany wandered over to a table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. Wanda Nell followed her and sat down across from her. “Are you okay, honey?”

Tiffany blinked, breathing deeply. “They told me he's dead, and that it happened here.” She shivered. “But I'm afraid they're just telling me that. What if he really didn't die?” Her eyes implored Wanda Nell, and Wanda Nell was astonished to read the fear there.

Impulsively, she held out a hand to the younger woman. Tiffany stared at it for a moment before she grasped it. Wanda Nell almost gasped aloud. Tiffany's hand was ice cold.

“He really did die,” Wanda Nell said gently. She hated having to recall that scene, but it was obvious this poor girl needed reassurance. “I was here when it happened, and people I know and trust told me he died.”

Tiffany relaxed. “Good.” Her hand went limp in Wanda Nell's grasp, and Wanda Nell released it.

“Weren't you supposed to marry him?” Wanda Nell asked as gently as she could.

The girl nodded, her lower lip trembling. “I thought he was so handsome, at first. And the way he looked in his uniform. He was so, you know, manly. He was always telling me how beautiful I was, and all kinds of things.” She closed her eyes. “But I didn't really love him.”

“Why were you going to marry him, then?” Wanda Nell said.

“He asked me first,” Tiffany said, opening her eyes and frowning at Wanda Nell. “It was on our second date, and it was real romantic. He said it was love at first sight, just like in the movies.”

“I see,” Wanda Nell said, though she really didn't.

“I had my wedding dress already picked out, and Mama and I had planned everything,” Tiffany said. “Ever since I was seventeen.”

“You said he asked you
first
,” Wanda Nell said. “So does that mean someone else asked you to marry him?”

Tiffany nodded. “But by then it was too late. I'd already said yes to Travis.” She sighed. “But Tony is so much nicer than Travis.”

Wanda Nell knew she must be talking about Tony Crowell.

“If you liked Tony better, why didn't you just tell Travis you didn't want to marry him?”

Tiffany stared at her, her face paling beneath the makeup. “I did. But Travis said I had to marry him.”

“You didn't have to marry him if you didn't want to,” Wanda Nell said. “Surely he didn't want to marry you if you were in love with somebody else.”

“Travis didn't care,” Tiffany said, staring down at her hands. “He said we were getting married, and I'd sure enough be sorry if I tried to dump him.”

“What did he mean by that?” Wanda Nell asked. She was not surprised Travis Blakeley had threatened the poor girl. It certainly explained a lot.

“He told me not to tell anybody,” Tiffany said. She looked like she was going to faint.

“But he's dead, honey,” Wanda Nell said firmly. “He can't do anything to you now.”

“That's right,” Tiffany said, hope dawning in her eyes. “He's really gone, and now he can't hurt my mama.”

“Did he say that he would hurt your mama if you didn't marry him?”

“Yes,” Tiffany said. “He said it would be a shame if Mama wasn't around to see her grandchildren.” Just saying the words made Tiffany go pale again.

“Did you tell anybody about this?” Wanda Nell asked.

Tiffany didn't respond. She stared at Wanda Nell.

“I know you said Travis told you not to tell anyone,” Wanda Nell said. “But maybe you did tell somebody. You did, didn't you?”

Tiffany licked her lips, and for a moment Wanda Nell thought she wasn't going to answer. Tiffany's head dropped, and the words came out in a whisper. “I told my mama.”

And Mama probably told several people
, Wanda Nell thought. That was the reason Travis Blakeley had to die. His threat to Tiffany had been all too real. With his history and the rumors that surrounded him, anyone would be terrified by such a threat.

This meant that Dixon Vance and both Dr. Crowells could legitimately be considered suspects now.

“Do you remember when you told your mama about it?” Wanda Nell asked.

Tiffany nodded. “It was on Friday.”

That meant there was plenty of time for someone to plan to murder Travis Blakeley at his bachelor party and rescue Tiffany from a very bad mistake in judgment.

“Travis must have wanted to marry you really bad if he threatened you like that,” Wanda Nell said.

“Yeah, he did,” Tiffany said. “He always talked about how beautiful I am.” Her face clouded. “But he talked a lot about all the things he was going to buy when we got married. He said he wouldn't have to work anymore.”

“I see,” Wanda Nell said. She felt so sorry for the poor girl.

“You know what? I think he didn't really care about me,” Tiffany said. “I think he just wanted to marry me because of all the money my daddy left me.” The way she spoke it sounded like it was the first time the idea had occurred to her.

Wanda Nell wanted to comfort her, but there wasn't much she could say. “Some men are like that,” she said. “I know it's awful, but it just happens that way sometimes. You're very lucky you don't have to marry him now.”

“I sure am,” Tiffany said, sounding happier. “Now I can marry Tony. He asked me again last night.”

“That's nice,” Wanda Nell said. As far as she could tell, Tiffany hadn't made the connection yet between Travis Blakeley's sudden death and her own good fortune. How would she react if she knew someone had murdered Travis to save her from marrying him?

Another thought struck her. She might as well ask, because Tiffany seemed a little too dim to understand the import of the question. “Tiffany, honey, did Travis know about you and Tony? That you really wanted to marry him instead?”

“Yeah,” Tiffany replied. She screwed her face up like a little child who knows she's done something bad but doesn't really know why. “I guess I kind of told him the other day.”

“When you told him that, did he say he would hurt Tony, too?”

Tiffany nodded.

“Did you tell anybody about that? Like Tony, maybe?”

Tiffany ducked her head. “I guess I might've.” Her voice was barely audible. “Like maybe my mama and Tony.”

“It's okay, honey,” Wanda Nell said in soothing tones. “You couldn't keep something like that to yourself.” She paused. The next bit was going to be difficult, she knew. “The thing is, Tiffany, now you need to tell the sheriff what you just told me. Can you do that?”

“Why? Why do I have to talk to the sheriff?” Tiffany's mouth set in mulish lines. “Now that he's really dead, I don't have to talk to a policeman ever again.”

“It's information the sheriff needs to know so they can figure out who murdered Travis,” Wanda Nell said.

Tiffany had to think about that for a moment, and Wanda Nell could see that it took some effort. Finally, Tiffany spoke. “I guess so, but my mama's not going to be happy about that.” As she said the words, her eyes widened, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

“What's the matter, honey?”

Tiffany just shook her head, her hand still over her mouth.

Wanda Nell made a shrewd guess. “Your mama told you not to talk to anybody about any of this, didn't she?”

If anything, Tiffany's eyes widened even more. Her hand dropped from her mouth. “How did you know that?”

“I'm a mama, too,” Wanda Nell said. “I understand why your mama told you that. She just wants to protect you. But it's not that simple, honey. This affects other people, and somebody innocent could get hurt. You wouldn't want that, now would you? You're a nice girl, aren't you?”

Tiffany nodded. “Yes, ma'am. But who might get hurt?”

“Gerald Blakeley. They've put him in jail because they think he murdered his brother.”

“I didn't know that,” Tiffany said, frowning. “Gerald's really nice. He was always so sweet to me. He asked me to marry him a long time ago, back in high school.” She shook her head. “But I couldn't marry him. He's only a boy.”

“He's a
nice
boy,” Wanda Nell said, “and he needs your help, honey. That's why you need to talk to the police and tell them just what you told me. Okay?”

“I guess so.” Tiffany frowned again. Wanda Nell wasn't sure the girl could work out just
why
what she had to say could help Gerald.

They both heard a ringing sound, and it was coming from Tiffany's purse. She opened it and pulled out her cell phone. “Hello.” She listened a moment. “I'm at that restaurant, Mama, and I've been talking to a real nice lady.”

Wanda Nell was close enough to hear the sharp tones, but not the words, emanating from Tiffany's phone. Evidently Mama wasn't too happy about Tiffany being there and talking to someone.

“Okay, Mama,” Tiffany said. “I'll be right home.” She shut the phone and dropped it back in her purse. “Mama wants me to come home right now.” She stood up. “It's been real nice talking to you, ma'am.”

Wanda Nell stood, too. “It's been nice talking to you, too, Tiffany. Now, I know your mama wants you to come right home, but you think about what I told you. About how you need to talk to the sheriff and tell him what we talked about. It's real important, okay?”

Tiffany nodded, and Wanda Nell had to be content with that. She was afraid that once Tiffany was back under her mother's protective wing, she would never go to the sheriff's department. Mama might very likely do her best to keep Tiffany from talking to anyone, because no matter how dim Tiffany was, Wanda Nell had an idea her mother was a lot sharper.

Ruby Garner stepped into the back room. “Hey, Wanda Nell, that policeman's here again, and he wants to talk to you.”

“Okay,” Wanda Nell said. Her stomach knotted up. Ruby must mean Bill Warren. He was the last person on earth she wanted to see right now.

She followed Tiffany into the front room, and Tiffany continued on to the door, oblivious as before, while the male customers got an eyeful.

Bill Warren stood by the cash register. Wanda Nell watched him for a moment as he watched Tiffany. The look he gave the beautiful girl was nothing like the looks she was getting from the other men. That was when Wanda Nell had no further doubts about what Tuck and T.J. had told her. Bill obviously knew who the girl was, but he might as well have been looking at a cow or a dog walking by.