miss fortune mystery (ff) - bloodshed in the bayou (4 page)

I sat back in my boat and opened a can of Diet Coke. What I really wanted was a beer. But the only place for that was the Swamp Bar, and even in broad daylight that wasn’t a good option.

Instead I cruised the bayou, looking for things out of sorts. I loved this part of my job. Being outside, in nature, making sure the land, water and wildlife were safe. I guided my boat past Sinful and the General Store. Then I remembered that Walter, the Deputy’s uncle, had found the body. Well, Walter was the owner of the General Store I was already on the water, wasn’t I?

As usual, Walt was sitting on a stool inside. He spotted me the second I walked in and waved me over.

“Hey Margaret.” He smiled sadly. “I’m awful sorry about finding your dad out there.”

“That’s what I came here to talk about.” I said as I shifted from one foot to the other. “Can you tell me where you found him?”

Walt looked at me for a long moment. “Sure. Just don’t tell my nephew I told you. He wouldn’t want the crime scene contaminated.” He pulled out a map and showed me the spot.

I nodded. “I know that place. Thanks Walt. I won’t say a word.”

“Just make sure Ida Belle doesn’t find out.” He shouted as the door shut behind me. Now what did he mean by that?

It took me fifteen minutes to get to the scene of the crime. Or at least, I assumed it was the scene of the crime. I was convinced the murder didn’t occur at Sunnyvale in my Mom’s room. I tied up the boat, slipped on my rubber boots and got out.

The thick, Louisiana mud was trampled. A lot had happened here. There were multiple sizes of boot prints and signs of a struggle. I stretched and looked around. If Dad had been executed here, there should be blood, right? After looking around for a few minutes, I gave up. I didn’t really know what to look for. When it came to detective work, I was very inexperienced.

I giggled for a moment thinking I should’ve brought Peggy Sue out here. It would be fun to watch her struggle in the mud with high heels on. But she wouldn’t come out. She’d given that job to me. Oh well, at least she was paying for the funeral.

So what would a detective look for? There wasn’t any blood and I couldn’t spot any bullet holes in the trees. Just a lot of deep ruts in the mud. That just told me there’d been boats here – which there would’ve been when they discovered the body.

I shivered. It felt weird to think of Dad as a body. While it was true I had no love for the man, it seemed cold to think of him as a corpse.

One more walk around the area turned up nothing. It was no use. I simply didn’t have the skill set to deal with this. The sun was a little lower in the sky. It had to be about five o’clock. How long had I been out here? I’d better get home, shower and high tail it to Gertie’s. Maybe they had found something.

“Margaret!” Gertie wrapped her arms around me as soon as she opened the door. “Come in! Ally made a roast!”

The heavenly aroma wrapped around me and dragged me across the threshold. I was eating better than I had in months. Usually it was a frozen pizza or hot dogs in the microwave. I guess I’d just gotten used to a solitary life.

Fortune and Ida Belle were sitting at the dining room table with a laptop open. Ally waved from the kitchen. Gertie sat down and patted the chair next to her. I took it.

“Here’s a cold one.” Ally plunked a bottle of beer in front of me. “You look like you’ve been in the sun all day.”

Gertie nodded. “Walter said you went out to the site where your Dad was found. Did you see anything?”

Wow. Word sure gets around fast. Everyone at the table was looking at me. I shifted in my seat.

“I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. I’d hoped there’d be something there.” I sounded disappointed. Why? Did I really think I’d find the killer sitting there, waiting for me to arrest him?

Ida Belle nodded. “It’s hard to know what to look for if you haven’t investigated before.”

I took a swig of beer. “And you have?”

The three women looked at each other as if uncertain what to tell me.

“Never mind.” I said. “I believe you.”

“Anyway, we found a couple of mentions about Hugo Ancelet online.” Fortune said.

I stared at her. In all these years, it had never occurred to me to Google the Bastard. I felt like an idiot.

“What did you find?” I asked.

“His name has been tied to organized crime in New Orleans, I’m afraid,” Fortune said apologetically.

“Well, why not.” I murmured and took another swig. It didn’t bother me too much. I’d figured he was no good anyway.

“We have a couple of connections we’d like to use to find out if Hugo was killed by the mob.” Gertie asked.

To my astonishment, they were all looking at me, as if they needed my permission to proceed. They wanted me to approve them talking to the organized crime syndicate? This was a situation I never thought I’d find myself in.

“Um, is it dangerous? I don’t want you to put yourself in harm’s way.”

Ida Belle shook her head. “There’s no danger. We know a couple of men who we think could help.”

“Men in the mob?” I asked. Were they serious? What little old ladies from a small town had connections to organized crime?

“Well…yes.” Gertie said.

“I don’t know, guys. I mean, this sounds really serious. And dangerous. I think this is going too far.”

“Dinner!” Ally shouted from the kitchen, before emerging with platters of food. Gertie put out the dishes and silverware while Fortune poured lemonade. Ida moved the computer. I stared at it. There was information on my father on there. Did I want to see it? Did I want to know any more about this?

We chatted a little during dinner. I got the distinct feeling that Fortune, Ida Belle and Gertie were keeping the idea of doing something questionable from Ally. I played along without knowing why. When Ally disappeared into the kitchen, refusing any help with cleaning up, the conversation went back to the dark side.

“We’ve called our friends and they can meet us tonight.” Gertie said. Once again, they seemed to want my permission. Maybe it was to move forward with the case. Maybe it was to do something I thought was inherently stupid.

My guts twisted. This was my problem, not theirs. I couldn’t let them go alone. Besides, I was more than a little curious to find out who they were meeting.

“Okay, but I’m going with you.” I said finally. “It’s my mother you’re helping. I should assume some of the risk too.”

I waited for them to refuse…to protest. But they didn’t. In fact, the three of them just nodded to each other.

“Okay.” Ida Belle said. “But you’ll need to change. We’re leaving in an hour.”

Chapter 6

When Ida Belle had said I needed to change, I had no idea that she wanted me to dress as a girl. I don’t own very many dresses. I had some dress clothes, but they were all pants and capris.

Fortune was too curvy and Ally was shorter than me so I couldn’t borrow from them. I was taller, and more angular. There was only one person who would have girl clothes in my size at this time of night.

“Miss Margaret.” Paloma greeted me at the door and I followed her inside.

“Forgive me for being surprised,” Peggy Sue called out from the staircase above. “But come on up.”

My twin sister’s bedroom was a weird kind of purplish blue that she called ‘periwinkle meets cornflower.’  It was the size of my whole house, with a walk-in closet the size of my dining room and a sitting area that as far as I knew, she never sat in. The white carpet was thick and felt like you were walking on foam. She had floor to ceiling windows with something she called valances and an enormous, king-sized bed with a canopy made out of pink silk.

Huntington, her husband, had his own bedroom. I’d never seen it. In fact, I was pretty sure that with the exception of the nights my niece and nephew were conceived, I didn’t think they’d ever slept together.

“Try on the yellow organza,” Peggy Sue shoved something at me that looked like a fluffy lemon.

“I don’t need anything that formal,” I said as I pushed the dress back at her. “Just a simple dress or skirt and blouse.”

My sister frowned, threatening once again to have lines in her perfect face. “I just don’t understand. You said you needed to borrow a dress that would impress some businessmen.” She gazed at me. “You’re not soliciting sex are you?”

I rolled my eyes, “Oh for crying out loud! Are you serious? I’m just meeting some people in New Orleans who might know what happened to Dad. And we’re meeting at their business. That’s all!” I was lying to her and I was okay with it. With Mom a suspect in a murder and our no-good Dad dead, she didn’t need to know her sister was about to ask the mob for help.

“Hmm…maybe the navy pencil skirt and white blouse with spectator pumps then.” She mumbled as she headed back into her closet. A moment later she re-emerged with something that looked like a sailor in a 1950’s musicale would wear.

“Look,” I protested. “Don’t you just have a simple dress? Something you’d wear to a barbecue?” Ida Belle had wanted me to look demure. Non-threatening. But everything Peggy Sue wore was meant to intimidate her underlings. Wouldn’t they look just the same on me?

“Well, I guess you could try my linen dress.” Peggy Sue dove once again into her closet and emerged with a simple, black linen shift and a pair of black and pink ballet flats.

“Perfect!” I said and tried them on. I almost didn’t recognize myself when I stood in front of her full-length mirror.

“You look nice!” My sister complemented. “Sit down.” She ordered and I sat.

After a few minutes of makeup and several more with a hairbrush and some hair pins, I looked like a completely different woman. What just happened here?

“There!” Peggy Sue said triumphantly. “You look marvelous!”

I had to admit, I did. She’d managed to make my hair look glamourous. And the makeup – it was as if I’d never seen my eyes before. She placed a pearl choker around my neck and stepped back.

“Aunt Margaret?” Hunt appeared in the doorway, eyes wide. “Wow! You look like Mom!”

“I think you should wear that to the funeral.” Peggy Sue nodded. “Doesn’t she look nice, Hunt dear? Once you get that swamp mud off of her she cleans up lovely.”

I really wasn’t sure how to take all this. It seemed like compliments, but maybe they were insults. But I did know that I looked totally different. Kind of elegant even.

Peggy Sue tossed me a small, black purse. “Carry this. Now you can go conquer the world. Like I did.”

An hour later and miles away from any semblance of sanity, I was starting to question my idea to ride along. Gertie, Ida Belle and Fortune approved of my makeover, in fact, barely recognizing me when I arrived at Ida Belle’s house. Ida Belle drove us out of Sinful to an area I don’t think I’d ever really paid attention to before. We pulled in to a huge warehouse and a giant man in a dark suit met us at the door. Ida introduced him to me as Manny, but I was so stunned at the massive and intimidating man I don’t think I even spoke. He had to be packing heat, right? Isn’t that what they called it? I would’ve asked my friends but was too dumbstruck.

We followed Manny up a staircase to an office. The giant ushered us in and got us chairs, before he left us alone.

“Hello,” said a short little guy in what looked like a very expensive suit. He walked in through another door, followed by a man large enough to make four of the little guy. Where Manny was a solid wall of muscle, this man was more like a soft beanbag of jello.

“Mr. Little,” Ida Belle began, “I’d like to introduce you to our friend, Margaret.”

Mr. Little nodded, so I nodded back. I had no idea how you responded to a man of questionable business practices, so I decided to say as little as possible.

“And this is Mr. Big.” Ida Belle indicated the heavy man. I gave him a nod and he returned it.

“Very nice to meet you, Miss.” Mr. Big said. He seemed polite. Like Little, he was also wearing an expensive suit. They seemed nice for a couple of mobsters, considering they were the first ones I’d ever met.

“Nice to meet you two as well.” I said, remembering my manners. Strangers, no matter who they were, deserved politeness. It was a longstanding southern tradition ingrained in us at birth alongside the overuse of ‘ma’am’ and ‘sir,’ and never skimping on the alcohol of a guest’s cocktail.

“What can we do for you?” Little asked. He looked at Ida Belle expectantly and I got the impression that not only had they worked together before but that he considered her to be the leader of this little gang.

“Margaret has a problem.” Ida Belle handed Little a photograph of my father. “Her father, Hugo Ancelet, turned up dead in the bayou.”

Little shook his head sadly and handed the photo to Big. It was then I realized that they weren’t really named Mr. Big and Mr. Little. They were related. And Big and Little was how they were called to differentiate. Little must be Big’s son – a sort of mafioso family business.

“That is a terrible thing, Miss Margaret.” Little said. “Please accept our condolences.”

Big nodded. If they’d recognized my father from the photo, they didn’t indicate it.

“It is sad to lose a loved one.” Big said. It was weird to hear a gangster with a southern accent. I’d always assumed, no matter where they lived, that they were required to maintain a New Jersey accent.

“Thank you, but I barely knew my dad. He ran out on us when my sister and I were little.” Now what made me say that? I’d just given these men of questionable repute information on myself and my sister.

“We were hoping,” Ida Belle cut in, “That maybe you could find out some information on Mr. Ancelet. Where he’s been, and who his associates were.”

“You see,” Gertie said, “her mother is in a nursing home and she’s being arrested for the murder!”

Fortune and Ida gave Gertie a sharp look.

Little rubbed his chin, “Sunnyvale in Mudbug?”

I gave a little start. “Why, yes. That’s right.”

“How do you like it there?” Big asked.