Leftover Dead (31 page)

“That bad, huh?”

“Lauretta says his daughter is real mean to him. If my daddy was that rich, I sure wouldn’t be talking to him the way she does.”

“That’s too bad. So you think I should wait till she leaves.”

“I sure would. But sometimes after she’s been here, he don’t act too good. You’ll just have to try your luck, honey.”

“How long does she usually stay?”

Darlene shrugged. “An hour, not much more.” She glanced at the visitors’ book again. “She signed in about ten minutes ago, so I’d give it about an hour and then try. Or you might want to come back some other time.”

“Where is his room?” Wanda Nell asked.

“His suite, you mean,” Darlene said. “It’s real nice, nicer than my apartment, that’s for sure. Anyway, you just go down that other hall until you get to the end. Take a left, and you’ll end up in his wing. Just ask at the desk there.”

“Thanks. I sure appreciate it.”

Darlene smiled. “You’re welcome.” Her phone rang, and she answered. Lost in thought, Wanda Nell walked back to where Mayrene was.

Jackson Dewberry and his daughter, Marysue Avenel, didn’t get along. Well, Ernie had told her that much. But it sounded even worse from what Darlene said. She really should go talk to him, and maybe after his daughter had been here would be a good time to do it. He might be too upset to guard his tongue, and that could work in her favor.

She decided that was what she would do. She walked back into the small beauty shop to find Mayrene’s next appointment, an elderly man, already in the chair. Mayrene was giving him a quick trim while keeping an eye on Mrs. Connor under the dryer.

Mayrene was nothing if not expert, and Wanda Nell watched her with a certain amount of awe. Mayrene finished the haircut and had the elderly man out the door about two minutes before Mrs. Connor’s dryer went off.

Wanda Nell helped Mrs. Connor back to the chair, and Mayrene began taking out the rollers. She chatted with Mrs. Connor, who barely responded, much to Wanda Nell’s surprise. The old woman looked preoccupied.

Not having anything else to do while she waited until time to see Mr. Dewberry, Wanda Nell picked up an old magazine from the table by the door. She leafed through it, occasionally glancing up to note Mayrene’s progress with Mrs. Connor’s hair. Finally, Mayrene had finished, and she turned Mrs. Connor around so that she was facing the mirror.

“Now what do you think, ma’am?” Mayrene asked while Mrs. Connor studied her reflection.

Wanda Nell thought Mayrene had done a terrific job. She had managed to take Mrs. Connor’s thick white hair and tame it into a soft cut that framed her face very nicely. It was very flattering, and Wanda Nell tried to say so in a tactful manner.

Mrs. Connor still hadn’t said anything, and Wanda Nell could see Mayrene starting to get ticked off with the old lady. “Very good,” Mrs. Connor said. “Much better than what I hoped for. Help me to my chair.”

Mrs. Connor was gone a few moments after that, and both Mayrene and Wanda Nell felt only relief. “Lord, that woman sure is a misery,” Mayrene said.

“She is, but you managed to please her. You really made her look nice. Almost human, in fact.”

“Did you find out how to find Mr. Dewberry?” Mayrene asked after they quit laughing.

Wanda Nell related what Darlene had told her. “I figure in about ten more minutes his daughter ought to be gone, and maybe I can talk to him.”

“Okay,” Mayrene said. “My next appointment ought to be here soon, and there’s only one more. If either one of them needs a shampoo, I can do it if you’re not here.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate this.” Mayrene waved her thanks away.

The next person came in, and Wanda Nell had time to give her a shampoo. Once she finished, she was ready to find Mr. Dewberry’s room.

“I’ll be back,” she said to Mayrene.

Out in the hall, she headed toward the reception area, Darlene’s directions in mind. Soon she came to another reception desk, and from what Wanda Nell could see, this section of the place was definitely where the rich old people lived. She stepped up to the desk and asked the young woman there for Mr. Dewberry’s room. The woman didn’t even ask her what her business was, simply gave her the number and told her how to find it.

Relieved that this part, at least, had gone easier than expected, Wanda Nell walked down the hall to Mr. Dewberry’s room. The doors were much farther apart in this section, so the apartments—or suites, as Wanda Nell reminded herself to call them—were much larger here. Near the end of the hall, she stopped in front of Mr. Dewberry’s door and knocked.

“Come in,” a voice called out.

Wanda Nell opened the door and walked in. An elderly man, his face darkened by numerous spots, sat in a high-backed chair, his legs covered by a colorful afghan.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice a bit shaky.

“My name is Wanda Nell, and I wanted to talk to you about something, Mr. Dewberry, if I may.”

Mr. Dewberry looked at her for a moment. “I don’t recall ever knowing a girl named Wanda Nell, but I sure would remember if she was as pretty as you.” He smiled, and Wanda Nell tried not to shudder. His skin was stretched so thinly over his face, he looked like a death’s head. He motioned to a sofa near him. “Come on in and sit down and talk to me. I don’t often get pretty girls coming by to visit.”

“Thank you.” Wanda Nell took a seat on the sofa, being careful to sit out of his reach. He looked like a pincher or a leg squeezer, and she didn’t want to give him an opportunity. From the disappointed look on his face, she had evidently made the right decision.

“What did you want to talk to me about, Miss Wanda Nell?” he asked. His hands moved restlessly in his lap, worrying the nubby yarn of his afghan. “I hope you’re not coming to ask for money for something. My lawyers have all my money these days. What my son doesn’t have, that is.”

“I’m not here to ask for money. I wanted to talk to you about your daughter.” She was gambling with this, but some instinct told her it was the right approach.

“Marysue?” Dewberry’s face twisted in distaste. “She was here just a few minutes ago. She didn’t come complaining to you about something, did she? Always whining, that girl. Never satisfied with anything.” He scowled.

“No, it’s not about Marysue. I want to talk to you about your other daughter. The one who came looking for you thirty-one years ago.”

Wanda Nell watched Mr. Dewberry carefully. She was hoping he wouldn’t have a stroke right on the spot. To her relief, he didn’t appear to be having one.

The reaction she did see surprised her.

Tears began streaming down the old man’s face.

Wanda Nell was taken aback. This was one reaction she had not expected. “Mr. Dewberry,” she asked, “are you okay?”

Mr. Dewberry fumbled in his shirt pocket for a handkerchief. He freed it from the pocket and wiped his face with it. “Danged allergies. I swear they keep putting the wrong kind of flowers in this place on purpose, just because they know it makes my eyes tear up like that.”

Wanda Nell stared at him. Was he telling the truth? Had it really been allergies that made his eyes stream like that? She couldn’t be completely sure.

“That’s too bad. Now, Mr. Dewberry, did you hear what I said? About your other daughter?”

“I heard you, Miss Wanda Nell,” he replied with some asperity. “There’s nothing wrong with my hearing, I’ll have you know. I may not be able to walk too well anymore, but I can hear just fine.” He frowned. “Now what’s this about my other daughter?”

Wanda Nell noticed he didn’t say outright that he didn’t have another daughter. Taking that as a good sign, she went on. “She came here looking for you about thirty-one years ago. Her name was Jenna Rae Howell, and she was about nineteen or twenty at the time.”

“Why do you think this girl would be looking for me? Didn’t she know who her own father was? Some man named Howell, I reckon, not Dewberry.” He watched her carefully.

“She was adopted,” Wanda Nell said. He still wasn’t denying that he was Jenna Rae’s father. “Her mother was a woman named Margaret Lewis, and she was from here. She dropped out of high school and went to work for a rich family, and while she was working for them, she got pregnant.”

“So you think I’m the man who got some maid pregnant?” Dewberry sounded neither offended nor amused, simply curious.

“I never said she was a maid. I just said she worked for a rich family.”

Dewberry nodded. “So you did. So you did.”

Wanda Nell was trying to think of what to say next when a knock sounded at the door. Before Mr. Dewberry could respond, the door opened, and Evangeline Connor wheeled herself in the room. “I need to talk to you, Jackson,” she said. She broke off when she saw Wanda Nell sitting on the sofa.

“What are you doing here?” Mrs. Connor demanded. “Shouldn’t you be shampooing someone’s hair about now? I think you’d better get back to work.”

Wanda Nell wanted to scream. Having that hateful old woman turn up had ruined everything. She doubted she would be able to get Jackson Dewberry to talk to her anymore after this, but she decided to fire another shot before she had to leave the room.

“I had some business with Mr. Dewberry,” Wanda Nell said. “I wanted to talk to him about his daughter.” She waited to see how Mrs. Connor responded to that.

The old woman stared at her, then at Dewberry. “What the heck would you be interested in Marysue for? Nobody else is.”

Before Dewberry could say anything, Wanda Nell spoke. “Not Marysue. His other daughter, Jenna Rae.”

“I see.” Mrs. Connor continued to stare at Wanda Nell for a moment. Dewberry had remained silent during this whole exchange, and Wanda Nell wondered about that. “Very interesting. Well, young woman, I think you’d better go peddle your tales somewhere else. I’ve known Jackson Dewberry for nearly seventy years, and I know all about his family.”

Wanda Nell noted that Mrs. Connor had looked directly at Jackson Dewberry when she made that final statement. She also thought the choice of words was kind of odd. Surely Mrs. Connor ought to have said something about the fact that he had only one daughter. That is, if they were going to insist that Jenna Rae Howell wasn’t Dewberry’s daughter. Wanda Nell could feel the tension rising in the room, but it was between the two elderly people.

“In that case,” she said, rising from the sofa, “I guess I’ll be getting back to work like you said, Miz Connor. Maybe I was mistaken, but I guess I’ll just have to dig a little deeper.”

“I wouldn’t bother, if I were you.” Jackson Dewberry spoke at last, his voice harsh. He glared at Evangeline Connor. “You need to be looking for someone else, not me.”

Wanda Nell merely nodded. She paused in the doorway for a moment to look back. The two others still stared at each other, obviously waiting for her to leave. Wanda Nell stepped into the hallway, pulling the door almost completely shut behind her.

After a swift glance down the hall to make sure no one was watching, she stuck her ear to the tiny opening at the door. She strained to hear the conversation going on inside Dewberry’s suite.

“. . . had to tell her you didn’t know anything about it,” Mrs. Connor was saying. “But she told me enough . . . few things together.”

Mrs. Connor’s voice faded in and out, and Wanda Nell could hear the rumble of Dewberry’s voice. She couldn’t really make out the words, however. She wondered whether she dared open the door just a little bit more. She pushed it, just barely, and she could hear a bit better.

“. . . out of your mind, Vangie,” Dewberry was saying. “Even if you were right, what does that get you?”

“Money,” Mrs. Connor said, her voice ice cold. “That stupid shampoo woman can’t prove anything. It’s obvious she knows a lot, but she doesn’t know everything. I can put a few things together, though, and I will, if you don’t do as I say.”

“How could you possibly need money? Atwell left you pretty damn well fixed for the rest of your life.”

“That’s none of your damn business,” Mrs. Connor said. “Just that stupid son of mine. He’s managed to screw things up, yet again, and I need cash. You’ve got more than you’ll ever know what to do with, and I want some of it.”

Dewberry said something, but Wanda Nell’s attention was distracted, and she didn’t catch it. She had just caught sight of someone at the end of the hall. With great care she pulled the door shut, wincing at the tiny click she heard, then strode down the hall, thinking furiously.

Evangeline Connor was trying to blackmail Jackson Dewberry. And that meant she knew something. Or else she thought she did. Wanda Nell could figure out at least part of it. Mrs. Connor had remembered that a girl named Margaret Lewis had worked for the Dewberry family. Also, she knew the family well, and she knew the kind of reputation old Dewberry had. It didn’t take much to figure it out after that. Dewberry had gotten Margaret pregnant, then fixed up the scheme to have Howell marry her, adopt the baby, and move to Hattiesburg.

But what was the connection with Howell? And, other than the money, why would he be willing to do something like that for Dewberry?

By this time Wanda Nell was back at the room where Mayrene was working. Pausing at the door, she looked in. Mayrene was working on her last person, a plump woman with long, flowing hair.

“Are you sure, now?” Mayrene asked her. “It will be quite a shock to see yourself, and once I cut it off, it’ll take time to grow back.”

“I’m sure,” the woman said in a firm voice. “It’s getting too hard to take care of, and it’s time. So cut away.”

“Okay, honey.” Mayrene caught sight of Wanda Nell. “Wanda Nell, this is Miz McDermott. Miz McDermott, this is my friend Wanda Nell. She came along to help me today, if I needed it.”

Wanda Nell and Mrs. McDermott exchanged greetings while Mayrene began cutting the woman’s hair. Wanda Nell winced as she watched Mayrene snip the long tresses and lay them aside.