Leftover Dead (28 page)

“She teaches at the high school?” Jack shook his head. “I don’t recall a teacher named Dewberry.”

Ernie smiled. “She doesn’t use that name. She got married while she was at Ole Miss, to some boy who probably thought he’d found himself a meal ticket.” She shook her head. “Her father made it clear he wasn’t going to support them, and the boy took off after a couple of years.”

“So what
is
her name?” Wanda Nell asked. “I’m surprised she kept her husband’s name if he ran off and left her like that.”

“It’s Avenel. Marysue Avenel. She teaches math.”

“Do you know her?” Wanda Nell asked Jack.

“Only to say hello to if I see her in the hall,” Jack said with a frown. “She doesn’t mix much with the other teachers.” He shrugged. “Usually when I see her, she has her head down. It’s a wonder she doesn’t run into people or walls all the time.”

“Sounds pretty pathetic,” Wanda Nell said. “Like she has no friends at all.” She couldn’t help feeling sorry for the woman, after all she had heard.

“It sounds like her parents are to blame,” Jack said. “If they gave all their attention to their two sons, it’s no wonder she’s the way she is.”

“Yes,” Ernie agreed. “They certainly did, from everything I ever saw and heard. The two boys were both handsome and outgoing, with many friends. Everything poor Marysue never has been. They’re both a good bit older, both in college by the time she was born. Everyone knew them, but people tended to forget all about her.”

“That’s very sad.” Wanda Nell’s heart went out to that neglected child.

“She’s not quite as bad as she sounds,” Ernie said. “I think she just finds it very difficult to make friends. I used to chat with her some in the teachers’ lounge, but much of the time she sat in a corner by herself.” She sighed. “I would have loved to knock her parents upside the head a time or two, though, for what they surely did to her.”

“So, getting back to the family as a whole,” Wanda Nell said, “what do you think, Ernie? Could one of them be the killer?”

Ernie thought about it for a moment. “Jackson Dewberry was ruthless when it came to business, but I don’t know that he would have killed his own daughter. If indeed that poor dead girl
was
his daughter. We still don’t know that for sure.”

“No, we don’t,” Jack conceded. “But I think we have to consider him a good candidate for being her father after what Miz Culpepper told us.”

Ernie nodded. “I agree he could very well be her father. I just don’t think he would have killed a child of his, and he certainly couldn’t have killed that man in Hattiesburg. He isn’t capable of leaving the nursing home, from what I hear tell.” She shuddered. “I could certainly see him paying someone to take his an unwanted child off his hands and off his conscience, fifty years ago.”

“What about his sons?” Wanda Nell asked. “Or Marysue? Do you think one of them could be the murderer?”

Ernie shrugged. “The oldest son without a doubt. He’s as ruthless as his father ever was, from what I’ve heard. The other son you have to rule out because he simply hasn’t been around.”

“And Marysue?” Wanda Nell prompted.

“I would say she didn’t have the gumption to say boo to a goose,” Ernie replied. “But many a worm has turned. She could have done it, I suppose, though she would have been a bit young thirty-one years ago.” She frowned. “Only about fifteen, perhaps.”

“She sure doesn’t seem to have much spunk,” Jack said. “But I could see a teenager lashing out at someone in anger, not realizing what could happen.”

“Especially an unattractive, unhappy girl confronted with a beautiful half sister she never knew about,” Wanda Nell added. “Jenna Rae was a beautiful girl. I hate the thought of a girl killing another girl like that, but it does make sense, doesn’t it?”

“You could certainly make a case for it,” Ernie agreed. “You also have to consider Jackson Dewberry Junior. Thirty-one years ago he would have been in his thirties, and he might have seen an illegitimate half sister as some kind of threat. At least, financially.”

“Okay, so we have two potential suspects there, Jackson Junior and Marysue Avenel.” Jack paused in thought. “What about Connor’s family?”

“You said his widow is living in the nursing home, too,” Wanda Nell said. “I guess that rules her out.”

“Physically, at least,” Ernie replied. “Evangeline is in her late eighties, I’d reckon. She can’t walk, has to use a wheelchair. Mentally, though, I’d say she was tough enough to pay someone else to do her dirty work for her.”

“A big fan of hers, are you?” Jack asked.

Ernie laughed, but there was no amusement in the sound. “Evangeline Connor is one of the meanest women I ever had the misfortune to meet. My parents loathed her
and
her husband. You’d think she’s the Queen of England’s cousin, the way she carries on sometimes, but she was just plain Evangeline Thibodeaux before Atwell Connor dug her out of some swamp in Louisiana.”

“You really don’t like her.” Wanda Nell was faintly shocked. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use that tone talking about somebody.”

“I surely don’t.” Ernie grimaced. “I knew the Connors’s daughter, Sarabeth, and she was a sweet, dear girl. Evangeline made her life an absolute hell, and her father did nothing to stop it. They forced her to marry some business crony of Connor’s who was a good twenty years older than Sarabeth. All for the sake of business.” Her face darkened.

“What happened to her?” Jack asked. From Ernie’s demeanor, the answer must be terrible.

“She committed suicide on their first anniversary. She begged her parents to help her get away from her husband, but they wouldn’t do it. She felt absolutely abandoned, I’m sure, and she must have figured death was the only way out.” She paused for a moment. “I was away at college by then, and I had no idea what was going on. By the time I came home again, Sarabeth was dead.”

“That’s appalling,” Jack said. “What kind of monsters would do that to a child?”

Wanda Nell was sick to her stomach.

Seeing her face, Jack said, “Honey, what’s wrong? You’ve gone white as a sheet.” He reached out to her, the worry evident in his expression.

“I’m okay.” Wanda Nell clasped his hand, but her voice shook. “That poor girl. Those poor girls,” she added, thinking of Jenna Rae. “No one was there to protect them. Things like that shouldn’t happen.”

Jack pulled his chair next to hers, slipping an arm around her shoulders, and Wanda Nell drew comfort from him.

“No, they shouldn’t,” Ernie said. Neither Wanda Nell nor Jack had ever seen her look so grim, like an avenging angel. “But Evangeline paid a heavy price for what she let happen to Sarabeth. Everyone in town knew what happened, and people started shunning her. The only woman in town who’d have anything to do with her after that was Ramona Dewberry, and that was probably because Jackson didn’t give her any choice. He and Connor had too many business interests at stake.”

“Why didn’t they just move away?” Jack asked. “Surely they had enough money to do that.”

“Of course they did,” Ernie replied. “But Connor didn’t give a damn about what people thought. They traveled a fair amount, so they weren’t here as much as they might have been. But I think he and Evangeline both got some perverse kind of satisfaction out of it, knowing that they weren’t going to be driven away.”

“That just sounds sick to me,” Wanda Nell said. “Are there really people like that?” She shuddered. “I don’t think I’ve ever known anybody that . . . twisted.”

“Twisted is a good word for them,” Ernie agreed.

“Did they have any children besides their daughter?” Jack asked.

“Yes, a son. Cameron Connor.”

“Where have I heard that name before?” Jack asked. “It sure sounds familiar.”

“He was a football player,” Ernie said. “Star of the team when he was in high school. He went on to play for Alabama, and he was even drafted by the NFL. I can’t remember what team he played for. But he didn’t last very long. He was badly injured during a game, and he had to give up playing football.”

“I remember him now,” Jack said. “He used to do the sports for some TV station.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Ernie said.

“What does he do now?” Wanda Nell asked. “He’s not still on TV, is he?”

Ernie shook her head. “No, he lost that job eventually. Took to drinking, and he showed up on the set one day, drunk as Cooter Brown. From what I heard, they’d already had enough of him at the station, but that was the final nail in his coffin. He was fired, and he came back to Tullahoma.”

“What’s he been doing since then?” Jack asked.

“Living off his mother.” Ernie gave a sniff of contempt. “His father died a few years after he came back here, and for a while Cameron tried his hand at managing his father’s holdings and business interests, but he apparently wasn’t very good at it. So Evangeline stepped in. As far as I know, she’s still in charge, even though she lives at the nursing home.”

“With that kind of money, you’d think she’d prefer to live at home,” Jack said. “Surely she could afford as much help as she needed.”

“She certainly can, but she was having a hard time finding anyone willing to work for her. I told you she was a mean woman.”

“If she’s that mean,” Wanda Nell said, “it’s a wonder they haven’t thrown her out of the nursing home.”

Ernie shrugged. “I’m sure there are times when they’d like to, but no doubt she pays well to live there. And the staff there aren’t her responsibility. The poor man who runs the place has to handle all that. She probably makes his life a living hell.”

“Charming woman,” Jack muttered. “Now, what about Cameron? Can you see him as a murderer? He doesn’t sound like much, frankly.”

“He isn’t,” Ernie agreed. “He’s big and dumb, and enough like his mother to be nasty. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if he had killed somebody, especially if Evangeline put him up to it.”

Wanda Nell looked at Jack. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to try to talk to him or his mother. I think if anybody’s going to, it had better be Elmer Lee.”

Jack sighed. “You’re probably right. He needs to be told about all this, anyway. I’ll see if I can go over and talk to him this afternoon.”

“Good plan,” Ernie said. “Someone with some real authority is going to have to deal with these people. Besides, if you just went over there and asked to speak to Evangeline, I doubt you’d get very far.”

“What about Mr. Dewberry?” Wanda Nell asked. “Would it be just as hard getting in to talk to him? Somebody besides Elmer Lee, I mean.”

“Maybe,” Ernie said. “I’m not really sure.”

“Will y’all excuse me a minute while I call Elmer Lee?” Jack asked, standing. He pulled out his cell phone.

“Sure, honey,” Wanda Nell said. Jack walked a few feet away and punched in a number.

“This sure is a mess,” Wanda Nell commented to Ernie. “Those people just sound so terrible. How can people like that live with themselves?”

“If you don’t have a conscience, it’s a lot easier,” Ernie said, a cynical note in her voice.

Jack was back in a moment. “Elmer Lee has some time to talk to me now, so I’m going on over to the Sheriff’s Department. I’ll let you know how it goes.” He bent to kiss Wanda Nell.

“Okay, honey.”

“Ernie, thanks for all the information,” Jack said. “You’re amazing.”

Ernie grinned, clasping his proffered hand and pumping it with vigor. “You’re welcome. I like knowing I might have done something to help bring this to a close. I’ve been thinking a lot about that poor girl the last couple of days, and she deserves some justice.”

“She sure does,” Jack said. “I’ll see y’all later.”

Wanda Nell turned back to Ernie. “Well, I guess I’d better get back to work. Even though it don’t look like there’s any customers to take care of at the moment.”

“Yeah, I’d better be going, too.” Ernie started to rise, then sat down again. “You know, I completely forgot what I was going to tell you and Jack. About what I found out.”

“That’s right,” Wanda Nell said. “You found out something about Mr. Howell, didn’t you?”

“I sure did. I didn’t remember him, of course. He was before my time, but when I was going through some of the old high school yearbooks, I found something.”

“What?” Wanda Nell asked.

“He worked briefly as a custodian at the high school,” Ernie said with a triumphant gleam in her eye. “Fifty years ago.”

“You’re sure it’s him?” Wanda Nell asked.

Ernie nodded. “Oh, yes, it has to be. How many Parnell Howells could there be?” She reached into her bag. “Just to be certain, though, I brought the yearbook with me. Careful, now, it’s a bit tattered.” She placed the book in Wanda Nell’s hands.

A strip of paper marked the page in the yearbook where Howell’s photograph was. Wanda Nell parted the pages with gentle fingers and gazed at the page with pictures of staff members at the high school. She stared at Howell’s picture.

“He was handsome, but he also looks a bit cruel. Something about his mouth, the way he’s holding it. It’s like what I remember of Howell when I met him.” She shut the book and handed it back to Ernie. “So now we know he was in Tullahoma fifty years ago.” She shook her head. “It’s hard to think that Jenna Rae would be around fifty now.”

“We’ll find out who took all those years away from her,” Ernie promised. “We’re getting very close, I’m sure. I just feel it in my bones.”

Wanda Nell had to smile at that. For a moment she imagined Ernie dressed like a Gypsy fortuneteller, uttering predictions about the future. “I hope you’re right.”

“Maybe all it will take is Elmer Lee and Jack confronting Jackson Dewberry and Evangeline Connor,” Ernie said. “Maybe they can rattle them enough to let something slip.”

“I suppose,” Wanda Nell said. “They’re both pretty old, though.”

“They are,” Ernie agreed. “But if you’re feeling some qualms of conscience about that, I wouldn’t, if I were you. Neither one of them deserves much consideration, as far as I’m concerned. Especially Evangeline. After what she did to her own daughter.” She shook her head, and Wanda Nell could see how angry Ernie was about what had happened, even after all these years.