Leftover Dead (26 page)

Jack offered a wan smile. “From your mouth to God’s ear, amen.” He yawned. “I guess I managed to get some sleep. I don’t feel as bad as I thought I would.”

“It was about four when I woke you the second time. You were asleep again by five, so you had a good four hours of uninterrupted sleep.”

“You, too, I hope.”

“I did. We’d better get a move on, though. Miz Culpepper will be testy with us if we’re late.”

Jack took a quick shower, shaved, and dressed in their bathroom while Wanda Nell took her shower in the bathroom she used to share with Juliet. By the time they were both done, Juliet had hot coffee, scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast on the table.

“Thank you, baby,” Wanda Nell said. “This was real sweet of you.” She hugged Juliet.

“It sure is,” Jack agreed, dropping a kiss on top of his stepdaughter’s head.

Juliet turned pink with pleasure. “I like cooking. I don’t mind.”

“Then let’s sit down and eat. I’m really hungry,” Jack said.

They enjoyed their breakfast, but Wanda Nell kept an eye on the time. They finished at nine-forty-three. “We’ll clean up later,” she said. “Just leave everything as it is. We don’t have time to bother with it now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Juliet said. “But I can stay here and clean up if you like.”

“No, we want you to go with us.” Wanda Nell’s tone brooked no argument. She and Jack had discussed this last night. Until the case was solved, neither one of them felt comfortable leaving Juliet on her own.

The sky was dark with impending rain, and the heat was oppressive. “Looks like we’re in for some bad thunderstorms,” Wanda Nell said as Jack headed the car out of the trailer park.

“That’s what they said on the news this morning,” Juliet agreed. “I was listening to the radio when I first got up. It’s supposed to clear up by this evening.”

“Good,” Jack said. “Let’s just hope it blows through quickly and doesn’t do much damage while it’s here. I don’t like thunderstorms.”

Wanda Nell wasn’t too fond of them either, but she knew Jack had a particular dread of them. He had told her once that his mother had been terrified of storms, thanks to her own father, who had rushed them all into the storm cellar every time a cloud blew up. “My grandfather was the only man in the county who had a storm cellar,” Jack had said. “He grew up in Kansas, and he built one first thing when he moved to Mississippi. Mama told me she spent a lot of time in that cellar.”

Wanda Nell patted her husband’s arm, and he smiled sheepishly.

There was little traffic to slow them, and Jack pulled his car up in front of Mrs. Culpepper’s house on Main Street at three minutes to ten. Wanda Nell was pleased to see T.J.’s pickup parked in the driveway.

“Just in time,” Wanda Nell said. “And just in time to get inside ahead of the rain.” They could feel the change in the air as soon as they stepped out of the car.

Sure enough, the rain hit just as they reached the front door. Belle was there, waiting for them. “Y’all get on in here before you get wet. My goodness, we’re really going to have a storm today. Of course, it’s been so dry the past week or so, we surely can use some rain. The grass has been about to burn up in all this heat, and as for the state of the flower beds in the back yard—well, I just feel sorry for the flowers. They’re drooping like lost children.”

By this time, Wanda Nell, Jack, and Juliet were safely inside the house with the door shut behind them. Jack and Wanda Nell took turns giving Belle a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, and she beamed with pleasure.

“Y’all come on in the parlor,” she said. “T.J. and Lucretia are there, waiting for you. Juliet, I think maybe you and I should take ourselves off to the kitchen. What do you think? I pulled out one of my favorite cookbooks, and I found a recipe for some oatmeal raisin cookies that I’m just about having a fit to try.”

Juliet’s eyes lit up, Wanda Nell noticed with some surprise. She had really meant it earlier when she said she loved to cook. Belle did, too, and perhaps that explained why Juliet was willing to spend so much time here with her grandmother and Belle.

Jack had noticed, too. He shared a smile with Wanda Nell. “I think I’m going to let her start cooking more at home,” Wanda Nell confided in an undertone as they watched Juliet and Belle head for the kitchen.

“Good idea,” Jack said. “If it’s something she’s really getting into, we’ll have to encourage her.”

“Wanda Nell, don’t just stand out there, come on in here.” Mrs. Culpepper’s voice, more ill-tempered than Wanda Nell had heard it in a long time, reached them from the parlor.

“Yes, ma’am,” Wanda Nell called back. “We’re coming.”

“Morning, Mama, Jack.” T.J. stood to greet them.

“Morning, son.” Wanda Nell offered him a kiss.

After a nod to T.J., Jack went to stand in front of Mrs. Culpepper. “Good morning, Miz Culpepper. We didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He smiled down at her, and Wanda Nell could see the old lady’s expression soften. Mrs. Culpepper had always had a soft spot for a good-looking man, and she had taken to Jack surprisingly well.

“That’s quite all right, young man,” Mrs. Culpepper said in softer tones. “I know it was that fool Belle’s fault, anyway. We could hear her rattling on all the way in here. I can’t believe she took Juliet off to the kitchen.” She shook her head. “She’s bound and determined to turn that child into Betty Crocker, I do declare. And if she’s not careful, Belle will have Juliet as fat as she is.”

“It seems like Juliet’s really enjoying herself,” T.J. said, his tone mild. “And you always say a girl should know how to cook.”

Mrs. Culpepper sniffed. “That’s certainly true. Every girl should learn how. Juliet is a very good girl. In fact, she’s a very nice young lady.” She fixed Wanda Nell with a basilisk gaze. “I certainly wish I could say the same thing about Miranda.”

Though her first instinct when hearing remarks like this was to speak up for her daughter, Wanda Nell decided not to take offense at the remark. Besides, she reflected wryly, Mrs. Culpepper was right. Miranda had few, if any, domestic skills, though the good Lord knew Wanda Nell had tried hard enough to teach her.

“She’s learning more now that she’s married,” T.J. said, again calming the waters. “But you know Randa, she’s not in too big a hurry to learn.” He grinned. He loved his sister, and he seemed to understand and tolerate her better than anyone else. Except, perhaps, her new husband. Wanda Nell was thankful for that.

“Do sit down.” Mrs. Culpepper was starting to sound testy again. “I declare, I’m going to get a crick in my neck if I have to keep staring up at all of you.”

“Sorry, Grandmama,” T.J. said. “Jack, why don’t you and Mama sit here on the sofa by Grandmama, and I’ll take that chair over there.”

Wanda Nell and Jack complied with this suggestion, and once they were seated, Wanda Nell gazed with some apprehension at Mrs. Culpepper. The old lady seemed fine this morning, but Wanda Nell had to wonder how long she was going to be that way. She offered up a quick prayer.

“Now, Jack,” Mrs. Culpepper said, “I’m not going to beat around the bush any longer. I had a talk with T.J. last night, and he told me the whole story.” She paused for a moment, looking away. When she turned back to face Wanda Nell and Jack, her face was set in grim lines. “I can’t pretend I’m happy to be raking up all this terrible business, but it has to be done. That poor girl deserves at least that much.”

Jack said, “Thank you, ma’am. The last thing we want to do is cause you any distress. But we think you may be able to help us get to the truth more quickly by sharing anything you know.”

“Then I’ll help you. I regret that I wasn’t helpful the first time you came to me.”

“We understand,” Wanda Nell said. Mrs. Culpepper nodded.

“T.J., would you pour me some water?” Mrs. Culpepper asked, picking up a glass from the table beside her chair.

Wanda Nell could feel Jack’s tension while they waited for T.J. to refill his grandmother’s glass. Mrs. Culpepper would tell them what she knew in her own time, and they couldn’t do anything to hurry her along, no matter how anxious they were to hear what she had to say.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Culpepper said. T.J. took her left hand in his and squeezed it gently. She smiled at him. “I know, I should just get on with it.” She sipped at her water when T.J. let go of her hand. She held the glass for a moment longer before setting it down on the table.

“My late husband,” she began, “was not the most ethical of men, though it pains me deeply to have to say that. He learned that from his own father, and sadly, he passed it down to his only son. I’m grateful that it ended there.” She smiled at T.J.

Wanda Nell was deeply touched. She could imagine what this was costing the old lady, and she had renewed respect for her former mother-in-law.

“Thaddeus wasn’t above accepting money to look the other way now and again,” Mrs. Culpepper continued. “He had some expensive habits”—her face twisted in a moue of distaste—“and the less said about those, the better. He earned a good living, of course, but he always wanted more.”

She paused for a drink of water. “He had his cronies in town, and he always did what he could to help them. They were, you understand, some of the richest men in Tullahoma. Thaddeus didn’t waste much time on men without money, unless they had some other kind of influence.

“One morning thirty-one years ago, Thaddeus got a phone call before he left for his office, and I overheard his part of the conversation. This was before I heard about a body being found at the high school, and it was only later that I connected the phone call with that girl’s death.” She paused for a moment. “Thaddeus tried to shield me from as much of his sorry doings as he could, but he didn’t know that I was in the hallway outside his study when the phone rang that day. You’d be surprised what I learned over the years, just standing in that hall.”

The bleak note in Mrs. Culpepper’s voice cut Wanda Nell to the heart. She hadn’t cared much for her father-in-law while he was alive, and she had even less respect for him now. She hated what he had done to his wife and son.

After another drink of water, Mrs. Culpepper continued. “I’m not sure who it was on the phone that morning, because I never heard Thaddeus call him by name. But from what happened later, I knew it had to be one of two men.”

“Can you be certain of that?” Jack asked in a quiet tone. “How could you narrow it down to just two men?”

“The sheriff came to our house that evening. It was very late, and Thaddeus thought I was safely in bed, as he often did,” Mrs. Culpepper said, a rebellious gleam in her eye. “But I heard someone come in, oh, it must have been almost midnight. I was curious, so I tiptoed down the stairs. Bobby Ray was sound asleep, didn’t hear a thing.

“When I got downstairs, I saw Thaddeus hadn’t closed the door properly. I got as close as I could and listened. He was telling the sheriff just what he had to do. The sheriff was even worse than Thaddeus. He was one of the crookedest men I ever heard tell of.”

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Wanda Nell said when Mrs. Culpepper fell silent.

“His own family despised him,” Mrs. Culpepper continued. “And they had a right to. I heard Thaddeus instruct the sheriff about interrogating some poor young man. Thaddeus said he was from a no-account family, and there wouldn’t be any problem with them.”

For the sake of Roscoe Bates and his family, Wanda Nell wished heartily that the old judge was roasting in hell where he belonged, right that very minute. How could he have done something like that to a poor family? Any family?

“You see why it shames me to tell you all this.” Mrs. Culpepper looked right at Wanda Nell. It was almost as if she had been reading Wanda Nell’s mind.

“I understand,” Wanda Nell said. “I can only imagine how hard this all was for you.”

“I was powerless. I knew if I spoke out against any of this, Thaddeus would beat me within an inch of my life.”

At Wanda Nell’s horrified protest and the men’s expressions of outrage, Mrs. Culpepper smiled sadly. “He didn’t do it very often, only when he thought I needed to learn a lesson. By the time this happened, he had me pretty well cowed. I didn’t dare tell anybody.” She shrugged. “Even if I had, who would have believed me? Not in those days, anyway.”

Wanda Nell had no idea what to say, and apparently neither did T.J. or Jack. Mrs. Culpepper finally spoke again. “I’m not telling you this because I want your sympathy. I just want you to understand why I acted as I did.”

“We understand, Grandmama,” T.J. said, his voice rough. “I’m sorry we’re putting you through this. Are you going to be okay?”

Mrs. Culpepper nodded. “Surprisingly, I think I am. Talking about it isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I can say anything about the bastard I want to, and nobody’s going to stop me.” She paused for a moment. “I suppose the truth will set me free—at least a little.”

The others waited for her to speak again. There was very little they could offer in the way of comfort at the moment.

“The sheriff asked Thaddeus who had put him up to this, but Thaddeus wouldn’t say. He just promised the sheriff that he’d be well rewarded, and he mentioned a figure that shocked me. Twenty thousand dollars.” She shook her head. “Thirty-one years ago that was such a lot of money. And if Thaddeus was willing to give the sheriff that much to cooperate, then Thaddeus had to be getting at least three times that much for his part in it.”

“That
was
a lot of money.” Jack shook his head in wonder. “Whoever was willing to pay it had to have pretty deep pockets.”

“Exactly,” Mrs. Culpepper said. “Thirty-one years ago, there were only two men in Tullahoma who had that kind of money: Atwell Connor and Jackson Dewberry.”

Wanda Nell vaguely recognized both of the names, but neither one meant much to her husband or her son. She waited for Mrs. Culpepper to explain.

“Both their families had money from way back, a lot of it from plantations in the Delta, and a lot more of it from real estate all over the South.”