Lethal Bayou Beauty (3 page)

“Ha!” Ida Belle let out a single cry and Gertie kicked her in the shin.

Celia drew herself up to her full five foot two inches and stuck out her flat chest. Her belly still beat it by a good two inches. “I should have known not to expect any manners or culture from someone who hangs around with the two of you.”

“Is that the culture part you’re showing me?” I asked. “Because I’m pretty sure it isn’t manners.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Gertie said, “will everyone just be quiet. The reality is, both societies have to work together to pull off the event. This town needs the festival to be a success and the pageant is a big part of that. Fortune is our representative and I expect even the two of you can manage to be polite if you tried really hard.”

Pansy looked me up and down, then glanced over at her mother. “She’s not as bad as I expected. With Marge being such a manly sort, I thought it would be much worse. She’s wearing extensions, but I guess that will have to do.”

“At least I’m a natural blonde,” I said. “And that’s not the only thing on me that’s natural.” I looked down at her ridiculously large chest.

A flush crept up Pansy’s face and she struggled to maintain her cool. “I’m an actress. We’re expected to maintain a certain image.”

“An actress,” I feigned surprise. “No one told me that. I’ll have to look you up on Internet Movie Database.”

Ida Belle emitted a strangled cry, but before she could let it out completely, Gertie’s shoe came right down on her foot.

Pansy’s put on a fake smile. “I do mostly industrial work.”

“You clean movie sets?” I asked.

“You pedestrian bitch. Industrial acting is usually for private businesses, for internal training and such.”

“Oh, like when the library needed a video on the new filing system and the receptionist recorded me explaining it with her cell phone?” I grinned. “What do you know, I’m an actress too.”

“Mother,” Pansy said, “we’ve wasted enough time here. The first meeting is tomorrow night. Seven o’clock at the Catholic Church auditorium. Please be on time. I’ve got my work cut out for me considering the assistance I’ve been given.”

She flounced across the driveway and flopped into her mother’s sedan. I figured she’d been standing too long already and her legs were starting to give. Celia shot one last dirty look at all of us and stalked over to her car.

“Remember your running shoes on Sunday!” I yelled.

She slammed her car door, then launched her car back out of my driveway, tires squealing.

“That went well,” Ida Belle said.

I shook my head. “You’re sure we can’t just kill her?”

Both of them were silent for several seconds, then finally Gertie cleared her throat.

“I guess we really shouldn’t,” she said.

“Hmmm,” I stared at the sedan as it screeched around the corner. “Hey, is there a Mr. Celia? I mean, I guess there has to be or Pansy wouldn’t exist, but I never hear you say anything about him.”

“Maxwell Arceneaux,” Gertie said. “A fancy name for such a common man, but he was the only man in Sinful who would put up with Celia.”

Ida Belle nodded. “Celia was never nice, but after they married, I’m afraid poor old Max became doormat number one in Sinful. The way she barked at and belittled that man…we always thought one day we’d wake up and hear that he’d smothered her in her sleep or pitched himself into the bayou.”
 

“So what happened?” I asked.

Gertie shrugged. “One day, he simply wasn’t here—all his clothes gone from the closet, his truck gone from the garage. That was over twenty years ago, but Celia still refuses to talk about it.”

“And no one knows?” I asked. “I find that hard to believe given how people here talk.”

“Celia’s cousin let out that they divorced, and I’m sure Celia knows what happened to Max after he left Sinful,” Ida Belle said, “but my guess is she finds the whole truth too humiliating or too scandalous. Either way, she’s never breathed a word about it.”

“But he would show up for Pansy’s funeral, right?” I mused.

Gertie brightened. “Now,
that
could be very interesting.”

Ida Belle nodded. “Remind me to get a new battery for my video camera.”

I was just about to suggest we move our meeting inside when I heard a car engine race around the street corner. We all turned to stare as my friend Ally, a waitress at Francine’s Café, screeched to a stop at the curb.
 

I’d met Ally due to my less-than-stellar domestic habits, which led me to eat at Francine’s often and well. In fact, despite my busy murder-solving schedule, I’d managed to pack on two pounds in the past five days. Ally had dropped out of college and returned to Sinful to care for her sick mother, but had remained after her mother moved to an assisted living facility in New Orleans. She still wasn’t sure what direction she wanted to take with her career.

Right now, she was leaning toward becoming a pastry chef, which had likely been responsible for at least one of my gained pounds. I had no problem being a test monkey when it came to sweets.
 

Ally jumped out of her car and raced over to us, then took a couple of seconds to catch her breath.
 

Gertie gripped her arm. “What’s wrong?”

She held up one finger, then bent over and took in a deep breath before rising back up to face us. “Good Lord, I’m out of shape. I left my cell phone at home, so couldn’t call, and I walked to work this morning. So as soon as my shift ended, I ran home and grabbed my phone, which was dead, of course, as I never remember to charge it, so I jumped in my car and raced over.”

I looked over at Gertie and Ida Belle, but they appeared to be as lost as I was.

“So,” I said, “the reason for you running yourself into heart attack mode is…”

“Oh, right. Pansy Arceneaux came to town early. I heard all about the pageant and knew Ida Belle and Gertie took you to New Orleans for a day of beauty, but Pansy came early and I wanted to warn you—”

Ally broke off and stared at them, then groaned. “I’m too late. I have got to do a better job with my cell phone.”

Gertie patted her arm. “It’s okay, dear. We appreciate the effort, especially as it involved running in Louisiana summer heat and humidity.”

As I was already feeling sticky from the aforementioned heat and humidity, I waved a hand at the house. “Let’s get inside before we all melt.”

We all trailed into the kitchen and I poured everyone a glass of iced tea and placed Ally’s latest creation—brownies that should be illegal—on the breakfast table. Ida Belle snagged a brownie and bit off a huge chunk, then sighed.
 

“You have a terrific career ahead,” she mumbled, still chewing on the brownie.

Gertie sighed. “Stop talking with your mouth full. I swear, sometimes it’s like you’ve regressed right back to high school.”

Ida Belle rolled her eyes. “High school is aiming too high.” She looked over at Ally. “Pansy and Celia left right before you arrived.”

Ally bit her lip. “Was it terrible? Never mind. Of course it was terrible.”

I slid into the chair next to Ally and snagged one of the brownies. At the rate Ida Belle was scarfing hers down, I was afraid they’d all be gone soon.
 

“I suggested killing her,” I said.

For a split second, a hopeful look passed over Ally’s face and I grinned.

Then she sighed. “I suppose that wouldn’t be polite.”

Ida Belle snorted and pieces of brownie shot out her nose. “You’ve got a great future with the Sinful Ladies Society,” she said as she grabbed a napkin for her nose and the table. “Just don’t hook up with a man, and let us know when you turn forty.”

Ally frowned. “Being as every boy I dated in high school ended up sleeping with Pansy—while I was dating them no less—it’s sorta turned me off men for the time being.”

Gertie patted her arm. “High school was five years ago, dear.”

“I have a vivid memory,” Ally said. “And six really good reasons to want to see Pansy Arceneaux run out of Sinful with her tail tucked between her legs. Whatever you guys are up to, I’m in.”

I looked over at Ida Belle and Gertie to get their take. Ally wasn’t “in” on the real me, and it would take some shuffling to dodge things if she was included, but her job at Francine’s also offered advantages of hearing the first line of gossip.

Ida Belle and Gertie glanced at each other in that silent communication mode they’d perfected over decades, then Ida Belle looked over at Ally and nodded.

“You will be an excellent asset,” Ida Belle said. “Given your position at the café, you’ll hear all the buzz.”

Gertie piped in, “And if we need to spread something around ourselves, you’re the perfect person to get it started.” She clapped her hands. “It’s like having a covert radio broadcast.”

“I don’t suppose Celia ever tells you anything?” Ida Belle asked.

“That’s right!” I said. “I had completely forgotten that Celia’s your aunt. Wow. That means Pansy is your cousin. And she slept with all your boyfriends? That’s a whole other level of lousy.”

“Got that right,” Ida Belle grumbled.

“Aunt Celia doesn’t trust me,” Ally said. “She’s well aware of Pansy’s high school shenanigans but wants to pretend that Pansy is perfect. I tend to remind her that she’s not, something Aunt Celia doesn’t appreciate.”

“Good girl.” Gertie nodded.

“I have to admit, it does give me pleasure, but the downside is that Aunt Celia won’t be sharing her secrets with me.”

“That’s okay, dear. Celia’s secrets aren’t all that secure. We usually find everything out.”

I swallowed a bite of brownie. “Why did Pansy come early? Was that one of Celia’s tactics?”

Ally frowned. “I don’t think so. They were in the café this morning and I mentioned that I thought Pansy wasn’t coming for a couple more days. Celia got that guarded look that she gets when she’s hiding something. Pansy said the film she was working on had wrapped up early, so she’d left since she was so anxious to see her mother.”

“Horseshit!” Ida Belle exclaimed.

Gertie sighed. “It’s not the best of language, but I’m afraid I have to concur.”

“Oh, I know she was lying,” Ally agreed. “Pansy’s a horrible liar and everyone with a clue and the Internet knows she’s not getting film work.”

“Maybe she committed a crime,” Gertie said, “and she came home to hide from the law.”

“You’ve been watching
Law & Order
again, haven’t you?” Ida Belle asked.

Ally shook her head. “Pansy’s not smart enough to commit a crime and make it ten feet away from the scene, much less thousands of miles. More likely, she slept with the wrong woman’s husband and had to get out of town.”

I brightened. “Hey, maybe the jilted wife will track her down here and settle up. That would fix everything and none of us would be anywhere near the bullet spray.”

“There’s something worth praying for,” Ida Belle said.

“As much as I’d love to attach a high-society crime to Celia for all of eternity,” Gertie said, “the most obvious choice is that Pansy’s broke, evicted, or both. She can’t possibly have friends, so the only person to run to is mommy Celia.”

“If Celia doesn’t want us to know, then it could be leverage,” I said, my mind already whirling with options. “First order of business—find out why Pansy came home early.”

Everyone raised their glass and gave me a single nod.
 

Brownies in. Brownies out.

Chapter Three

I’d just gotten settled in bed with my laptop when my cell phone rang. I started to let it go to voice mail. I was completely beyond patience for any more emergencies, and as Ida Belle, Gertie, and my CIA partner, Harrison, were the only ones with the number, whoever was calling would likely only serve to aggravate me. Unfortunately, none of those people would call this late unless it was important.

I let out a huge sigh and reached for the phone, then cringed when I saw it was Harrison. This was not going to be pretty.
 

“What the hell, Redding?” he started in as soon as I answered. “I got a pop last night on Sinful that two people held some old women hostage and were subsequently killed. Do you know anything about that?”

“Maybe a little.”

“Please tell me you did not kill those people.”

My silence apparently said it all.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Harrison raged. “You’d be less obvious as a Wiccan hooker in Salt Lake City. You can’t go around killing people when you’re off-grid, especially average citizens.”

“Average murdering citizens.”

“My alert doesn’t say anything about murder.”

“Remember the dead guy they found in my yard? The two dead people murdered him. The hostages got too close to the truth, and I had to rescue them.”

“Even though it meant blowing your cover? I assume Deputy LeBlanc will be calling today. I’ll talk to Director Morrow and see what the backup plan is.”

“You won’t be getting a call. Deputy LeBlanc doesn’t even know I was there.”