Bring Your Own Poison (14 page)

Juliet, of her three children, had always been the “good” one. She had never given Wanda Nell a minute's trouble, unlike her older sister and her big brother. Wanda Nell had had more than enough heartache and headaches over T.J. and Miranda. She was thankful that Juliet was such a sweet girl.

The drive to the doctor's office, in a building near the hospital, took about fifteen minutes. Wanda Nell parked the car, and she and Juliet entered the building. Dr. Crowell's office was on the first floor. There were several people in the waiting room when she and Juliet entered.

“You go sit down, honey,” Wanda Nell said in a low voice. “I'll go let them know we're here.”

She walked up to the desk and waited until she could catch the receptionist's attention. Martha, a trim, white-haired woman, had worked for the older Dr. Crowell for as long as Wanda Nell could remember. When his son took over the practice a few years ago, she had stayed on. Wanda Nell had no idea how old she was, but she didn't look much older than she had when Wanda Nell was a teenager.

“Good morning, Wanda Nell,” Martha said when she put down the phone. “Just sign in on that sheet there, if you don't mind.”

“Morning, Martha,” Wanda Nell said. She signed Juliet in as requested.

“Would you mind seeing Dr. Crowell Sr. this morning?” Martha asked. “We're pretty busy, and he came in to help out. There's some kind of bug going around, and we got a whole bunch of people calling in today.”

“That's fine,” Wanda Nell said. “It'll be good to see him.”

“Y'all just have a seat,” Martha said, beaming, “and someone will call you back real soon.”

Wanda Nell flipped through one of the magazines, while Juliet leaned against her. They had to wait about ten minutes before someone called out Juliet's name.

“Come on, honey,” Wanda Nell said.

She led Juliet through the door, smiling at the nurse as she did so. This girl must be pretty new, Wanda Nell figured, because she hadn't seen her before.

“In here,” the nurse said, indicating a small room. She followed them in and asked Juliet to sit on the examination table. “Now what seems to be the problem?”

“Sinus infection, I think,” Wanda Nell said. “She's been running a low-grade fever off and on, and she's got a scratchy throat.”

The nurse jotted something on Juliet's chart. Next she took her temperature and checked her blood pressure. “She does have a little temperature this morning,” the nurse said. “Now, Miss Juliet, if you don't mind, we need to weigh you.” She held out a hand.

Juliet got down from the table and followed her into the hall. Wanda Nell waited, and they were back in less than a minute. Juliet climbed back on the table while the nurse noted Juliet's weight on her chart.

“The doctor will be with you in a moment,” the nurse said. She left the room, shutting the door behind her.

“You can lie down if you want to, sweetie,” Wanda Nell said. “It may be a few minutes before the doctor comes.”

“I'm okay,” Juliet said.

The door opened then, and the elder Dr. Crowell entered. He was a distinguished-looking man in his early seventies. Tall, portly, and white-haired, he reminded Wanda Nell of Colonel Sanders, but without the facial hair. He also loved to talk, and Wanda Nell, struck by a sudden thought, decided she might try to get him talking about the bachelor party once he was finished examining Juliet.

“My goodness, Wanda Nell Culpepper, how are you doing? I'm sorry I didn't get to talk to you the other night, but with everything going on, it was impossible.” The doctor beamed at her. “And what's the matter with Miss Juliet this morning?” He read the notes the nurse had made.

“I'm fine, doctor,” Wanda Nell said. “And I think Juliet may have another sinus infection.”

“Let's check this out,” the doctor said. He proceeded to examine Juliet's throat, eyes, and ears. He took her temperature again, as well. He also checked her breathing.

“I think you're right,” he finally said. “Miss Juliet, I'm going to give you a shot to give you a jump start on some antibiotics, and then I'm going to give you some pills to take for a few days. If this hasn't cleared up by the end of the week, I want your mother to bring you back.”

Juliet nodded, though she looked a bit apprehensive at the mention of a shot. She never had liked needles, and Wanda Nell didn't blame her. She wasn't fond of getting shots herself.

“I'll be back in just a minute,” the doctor said.

He was as good as his word, and he administered the shot quickly, without giving Juliet too much time to dread it and tense up. After he disposed of the needle, he reached into the pocket of his white coat and pulled out a couple small bottles.

“Here you go,” he said, handing them to Wanda Nell. “These are samples, and they should be enough to do the trick. I doubt you'll need any more than that, but if you do, just call up here and tell them I said to give them to you.”

Wanda Nell was touched by the doctor's thoughtfulness. He was well aware that she didn't have any kind of health insurance, and in the past, whenever she had been to see him, he had always done what he could to help her like this.

“Thank you, doctor,” she said, accepting the pills. “I really appreciate this.”

“Don't even mention it,” he said. He showed no inclination to leave, so Wanda Nell decided to get him to talking, especially since he had already referred to the night of the murder.

“That was pretty awful Saturday night,” Wanda Nell said. “I thought I'd have nightmares after the way that poor man collapsed like that.”

“Yes, wasn't that something?” Dr. Crowell said, frowning. “Such a shock to see a young man collapse right in front of you.”

“I heard he was poisoned,” Wanda Nell said. Juliet was staring at her, eyes round with horror, and Wanda Nell realized she had neglected to tell Juliet about it. She would just have to do that later. She smiled to reassure her daughter. “Do you think that's true?”

“Very likely,” the doctor said. “Men that age don't collapse like that unless something is very wrong. It could be something to do with his heart, I suppose. But from the way the police were acting, I think it must be like you say.”

“It's terrible to even think about,” Wanda Nell said. “And he was real happy one minute, and the next, well…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“Looking forward to his wedding,” the doctor said, “and now instead he'll be going to a funeral.”

“I wonder who could have done such a thing?” Wanda Nell said. “Him being a policeman and all. Though I did hear some bad things about him, I have to say.”

Dr. Crowell looked away from her. “Those were probably just rumors. I doubt there was anything to them.”

Wanda Nell didn't think he believed that, judging by the way he had avoided looking at her when he spoke.

She tried another tack. “I have to say, I was kind of surprised to see you and your son there,” Wanda Nell said. “Were you friends of the groom?”

“Not really,” Dr. Crowell replied. “More like friends of the bride, I guess you'd say. The bride's father and I were good friends, and I've known Tiffany since she was born. In fact, I'm her godfather.”

Wanda Nell was so surprised at what Dr. Crowell had said that she couldn't think how to respond. Her first thought was that the doctor's relationship to the bride gave him a motive for murder—if he believed the stories about Travis Blakeley, that is. If he did, he certainly wouldn't want his goddaughter to marry such a man.

But would he really murder someone just to stop the wedding? It simply didn't square with what Wanda Nell knew of the old man. To her he had always been a figure of kindness, caring, and general goodwill. She couldn't see him as a killer.

If it meant his son's happiness, though, would that change things? If the younger Dr. Crowell really was involved with Tiffany Farwell and wanted to marry her, might his father be willing to act for his son's sake? Wanda Nell knew the old man doted on his son.

If Tiffany didn't want to marry Travis Blakeley, though, surely she could have broken off the engagement? This was the same bit of reasoning that had brought Wanda Nell up short before when she was thinking about motives. There had to be some reason that Tiffany wasn't willing to end the engagement, then. Wanda Nell was willing to bet that it was because Tiffany was afraid of Travis Blakeley.

“Wanda Nell, are you all right?”

Dr. Crowell's voice broke into her thoughts, and she came back to reality. She smiled and said, “Sorry, Doc, I was just thinking about something.” She looked at Juliet, slumped over on the exam table, and had a pang of guilt. “Come on, sweetie, we'd better get you back home and into bed.”

Juliet stirred and got down from the table. Dr. Crowell held out a hand for her to grasp to steady herself, and Juliet smiled shyly at him. “Thank you, Doctor Crowell.”

“My pleasure, my dear,” he said, beaming. “Now you be a good girl and do what your mother tells you. You'll be feeling much better in no time.”

“Thank you again, Doc, for everything,” Wanda Nell said. She led Juliet out of the room and toward the front of the office. She stopped at the cashier's desk where she wrote a check for the bill. She was relieved to see that the charge for an office visit hadn't gone up since the last time she had been here.

Wanda Nell was getting ready to start the car when her cell phone started ringing. She dug through her purse until she located it. Her home phone number flashed on the small screen. She answered the call, afraid that something had happened to Miranda or Lavon.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Mama, it's me,” Miranda said, sounding perfectly normal. Wanda Nell relaxed slightly.

“Hi, sweetie,” Wanda Nell said. “What's going on?”

“This man called here a couple minutes ago looking for you,” Miranda said. “I wouldn't give him your cell phone number, though. I told him I'd call you and give you the message.”

“Who was it?”

“He said he was Master Sergeant Warren with the state police,” Miranda said. “He wants to see you in his office down at the courthouse as soon as you can get there.”

Wanda Nell grimaced. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to Bill Warren, but she didn't have much choice. He would come looking for her if she didn't turn up at his office soon.

“Did you write down his number?” she asked.

“Yes, ma'am,” Miranda said. “You want me to give it to you?”

“No, I want you to call him back and tell him I'll try to get to his office in thirty minutes or so. We're just leaving the doctor's office, and I want to bring Juliet home and get her settled before I go see him.”

“Okay, Mama,” Miranda said. “I'll call him for you.”

“Thanks, sweetie. We'll see you in a few minutes.” Wanda Nell ended the call and dropped her cell phone in her purse. She cranked the car and started backing out of the parking space.

“Mama, what's all this about?” Juliet asked.

“I'm sorry, honey,” Wanda Nell said. “I know I surprised you back there in the doctor's office.” She pulled out of the parking lot onto the street.

As she drove home Wanda Nell gave Juliet as many details as she thought necessary to explain the situation. Juliet didn't say much, though she did express concern for the bride.

“She may be better off in the long run,” Wanda Nell said, “because the guy she was going to marry was supposed to be a pretty bad person. But we don't really know for sure yet.”

“It's all really sad,” Juliet said. “I'm sorry you had to see it happen, Mama.”

“Me too,” Wanda Nell said.

Wanda Nell pulled her car into its space by the trailer. She and Juliet got out and went inside. “You get yourself in bed,” she told her daughter. “I'm going to talk to Miranda for a minute, and then I'll come say bye before I go.”

Juliet went to her room, and Wanda Nell went in search of Miranda. As she expected, she found Miranda in her room, on the phone, and Lavon playing in his crib.

Wanda Nell knocked on the open door to get Miranda's attention. Miranda broke off her conversation, telling the person on the other end that she would call back in a few minutes.

At the sight of his grandmother, Lavon stood up and started talking to her, telling her another of his stories. Wanda Nell went to him and gave him a hug and a kiss and listened for a moment to his excited babbling.

“What did the doctor say?” Miranda asked.

“Sinus infection,” Wanda Nell said. “He gave her a shot and some pills to take. I'm going to put the bottles in the cabinet over the sink so these busy little hands can't get to them, okay?” She rubbed Lavon's head, and he laughed up at her.

“Good idea,” Miranda said, smiling over at her son. “I have to watch him every minute.”

Wanda Nell pulled one of the bottles from her purse and examined the label. “Juliet doesn't need to take one until tonight, after she's eaten something. You'll have to be sure she takes it. After that she takes one every eight hours.”

“Okay, I won't forget,” Miranda said.

Wanda Nell stepped over to her and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you, sweetie. I'm going to check on Juliet and put away this medicine. I don't know how long this talk with the state cop will take, but call me if you need me.”

Miranda nodded. Before Wanda Nell was out the door Miranda was on the phone again, chatting with one of her friends. Wanda Nell shook her head. She wondered what Miranda would do without a phone.

Juliet was curled up in bed, reading. Wanda Nell made sure she had fresh water on her bedside table. “Get Miranda to fix you something to eat later if you get hungry. Maybe some scrambled eggs or some soup, okay? Don't forget to eat something.”

“I won't,” Juliet said. “I'm going to read a little, and then I'll probably take a nap.” She yawned. “I feel really tired.”

Wanda Nell bent to kiss her forehead. It was a little cooler and not as clammy. “Tell Miranda to call me if you need anything.”

“I will,” Juliet said. She smiled. “Now go on, Mama. I'll be fine.”

“See you later, then,” Wanda Nell said. She hated leaving home, even for a little while, with Juliet not feeling good, but she couldn't ignore a summons from the state police.

She put the medicine the doctor had given her in the cabinet over the kitchen sink, and she found a can of Diet Coke in the fridge. She needed a little boost right now.

There were no signs of life in Mayrene's trailer as Wanda Nell got into her car. Mayrene was at work, she knew, and she had no idea where Lisa was. Wanda Nell hoped that she had gone to talk to the police or to Tuck. She might not have, though, if what Mayrene and she suspected was true.

Wanda Nell thought about that while on her way back into town. As she drove down Main Street she glanced at Mrs. Culpepper's house. That gave her an idea. After she finished with Bill Warren, she would drop in for a visit. If anyone knew anything about Tiffany Farwell's family, it would be Mrs. Culpepper. Wanda Nell figured the solution to the murder had something to do with Tiffany and her family, and the more she knew, the better it would be for Tuck and his client Gerald Blakeley.

Wanda Nell found a parking space on the square across from the county courthouse. As she locked her car she glanced up at the building to her right. Tuck's law offices were in that building. She wished she had time to go up there and say hello.

Instead she crossed the street to the courthouse. In the lobby she consulted the building directory and found the number of Bill Warren's office. It was on the third floor, and she decided to take the elevator up.

First, though, she had to pass through the security checkpoint. She handed the officer her purse, and he examined its contents while she walked through the screening mechanism. On the other side, the officer gave her back her purse and said, “Have a nice day, ma'am.”

Smiling her thanks, she headed to the elevator. When the door opened on the third floor, she followed the signs and wandered down the corridor toward the state police district office. Bill Warren's name was emblazoned in gold lettering on the door along with the insignia of the state police.

She had reached for the door when it suddenly opened, startling her. A balding man in coveralls stopped in the doorway, glowering at her. Wanda Nell stepped aside, and he brushed past her. Wanda Nell glared at his retreating back. What a rude man, she thought. Then it struck her that his face had been somewhat familiar. Where had she seen him before? She watched him as he practically stomped his way down the hall.

Shrugging, Wanda Nell dismissed him from her thoughts. She needed to focus on the interview ahead with Bill Warren. She would need all her wits about her around that man.

Pushing the door farther open, she stepped inside. She paused a moment to get her bearings before shutting the door. No one else was waiting. She approached the secretary's desk and gave her name. “He asked me to come in,” she said.

Nodding, the secretary said, “Just have a seat, honey, and I'll tell him you're here.”

Wanda Nell sat down, feeling suddenly nervous. What was it that Bill Warren wanted from her? Was he going to try to get back at her somehow because she slapped him?

Maybe this was just a routine thing. She sure hoped it was. Maybe all she would have to do was to give him a statement and sign off on it.

About ten minutes passed before the secretary told her, “Master Sergeant Warren will see you now, Miz Culpepper.”

Wanda Nell followed the woman to the door that led into an inner office. Bill Warren was stuffing a large manila envelope in the drawer of a file cabinet when she walked in. He turned, frowning, as he slammed the drawer shut. He nodded curtly at his secretary. She shut the inner office door, and Wanda Nell stood, staring at Bill.

“Have a seat, why don't you?” Bill indicated a chair across from his desk.

Wanda Nell relaxed a bit. He was treating her like a stranger, courteous but distant. She took that as a good sign.

She sat down and waited. Bill sat down again and stared across the desk at her.

“I'm sorry to hear your daughter's ill,” he said, surprising her.

“It's a sinus infection,” Wanda Nell said. “She gets them sometimes. She'll be better real soon.” She shut her mouth, realizing she was starting to babble.

“That's good,” Bill replied. He leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers. He flexed them while he stared at her.

The silence was irking her. She knew she ought to wait for him to speak first, but she didn't want to sit around playing games with him.

“You wanted to see me about something?” she said.

“Yes,” Bill said. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk, his lower arms extended on the desktop. “I want to go over what happened Saturday night with you. See if there's anything we might have missed. Okay?”

“Sure,” Wanda Nell said. This she could handle. “Where do you want me to start?”

“When the first guests arrived,” he replied. “Just go on from there, and tell me every little detail you can remember.”

Wanda Nell nodded. She didn't speak for a moment, marshaling her thoughts. She had a pretty good visual memory, and she concentrated on trying to call up the sights and sounds of that evening.

Once she was ready, she began talking. Bill occasionally jotted something down on a pad on his desk, but he didn't interrupt her. It took her about fifteen minutes, and as she talked she was aware of something niggling in the back of her mind. Something she couldn't quite recall—but whether it was important she had no idea. It would come to her later, probably, and if it was important she would tell Bill then.

“That's all pretty clear,” Bill said. “You've obviously had experience doing this.”

“A little,” Wanda Nell said. “More than I'd like to think about, actually.”

Bill had no comment for that. Instead, he glanced down at his pad and read.

“So you don't recall seeing anybody near the victim's glass just before he collapsed?”

“No, I don't,” Wanda Nell said. “They were all moving around so much, any one of them could have dropped something in his drink and I probably wouldn't have noticed.” That elusive memory flickered in her mind and then was gone again.