miss fortune mystery (ff) - hiding in the bayou (5 page)

“Who?”

“What are you doing, writing a book?”

“A series,” I replied. “And I need solid information so I can build a believable plot around realistic characters.”

Carter’s lips twitched. He studied me a long while before he said, “Can you keep a secret?”

There were few secrets in Sinful. Fewer still between me and my fellow cohorts. Thinking like Gertie then, I batted my eyelashes and said, “Sure.” 

It was the lone word that ruined everything.

Chapter Five

No matter how many times I visited the more deserted parts of the bayou, it always made quite the impression. From the neighbor’s garbage to human bones and dangerous critters, these waters housed everything from the kitchen sink to a murderer’s secrets.

In the daytime, the murky waters and low hanging Spanish moss looked creepy. At night, however, the bayou set the stage for a horror show. A lagoon of darkness existed and that swamp was ready to swallow up the living and leave floaters in its wake.

Gators lurked and at night, they seemingly awaited a chance to slowly rise and strike out at the unsuspecting. The University of Florida made the toothy creatures look cute for their logos but in the bayou, these guys were downright scary. And they weren’t orange and blue.  

The bayou took up most of Marge’s backyard. Soon after my arrival in Sinful, her dog Bones had plucked a human bone from the swamp and it had gone downhill from there. The occasional gator sighting on one’s lawn made even the best of women, assassins included, leery of such creatures.

Carter steered our barely-floating boat through an abundance of twigs and trash, placing more and more distance between us and Walter’s dock. Walter had probably called Ida Belle by now to let her know I was AWOL.

“Are you okay up there?”

Enjoying the wind in my face, but not the swampland stench, I put aside my guilt. Ida Belle would forgive, eventually. “Fine, Carter. Just get us wherever we’re going and we’ll talk then.”

Thanks to a full moon, Carter’s smile was easily visible. I scowled and he thinned his lips. “It wouldn’t hurt you to smile back.”

“It might,” I said, forcing a grin all the same. Fact of the matter was, I didn’t like this boat ride. Some women would’ve likely viewed a Louisiana cruise such as this as slightly romantic. I was a little smarter than the average gal and realized we were crossing sacred ground.

If there were any doubts, I could shine the spotlight above me and stare into the knowing eyes of all sorts of feathery creatures or swing that light straight ahead and find eyes belonging to a few sea monsters. Yes, I was still thinking about the gators.

Terrorists at gunpoint weren’t a problem. Unpredictable reptiles that outweighed me by a good eight hundred and fifty pounds or more and I wasn’t entirely confident of a win if a gator and I went head to head.

“Remind me again why I agreed to take this trip with you?”

“You like solving mysteries.”

“And how do you know that?”

Carter stroked his chin. “I know more about you than you might think.”

I doubted that one. “What sort of mystery are we solving tonight?” I tried to sound like an amateur.

“Murder.”

I shuddered for theatrics. “Sounds enticing.”  And ew…I sounded too girly. “Why not bring the sheriff or a fellow badge-flasher?’

He laughed. “Sheriff is feeling a little under the weather.”

“It must be going around,” I said, devising a story for Ida Belle. I’d tell her that her health and wellness were far more important than chasing down a lead. “And what about your sidekicks?”

“You mean the two clowns who arrested me?”

“Those are the fellas,” I said in a singsong voice.

“If you’re afraid…” He deliberately trailed his voice. I was used to Deputy Carter LeBlanc’s unspoken dares.

“I’ve never met a challenge I couldn’t handle.”

About that time an alligator popped his head above the water’s surface. I gasped, ducked, and cursed under my breath as Carter’s laughter resonated in my ears.

“I can see that,” Carter said, jabbing a pointed finger at a fishing shack straight ahead. “We’re almost there.”

“Carter,” I whispered. “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing here?”

“You’ll see,” he replied, pulling dockside.

A few minutes later, we were on shore. He gripped my hand, which I found greatly disturbing and comforting at the same time, and off we went. He pulled me alongside him as we tiptoed through the swamplands and ended up with our backs against the exterior of someone’s bayou hideaway.

“Carter?”

“Just a minute,” he said, peering around the side of the shack.

“You can let go of my hand now,” I whispered.

He jerked, shot me a sideways glance, and then released me. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Shoot. Now what had I invited? Shaking off the limited romance in the air, I paid close attention to the mix of voices and laughter.

“You should’ve seen the look on LeBlanc’s face. When Peanut accused him of killing Rich, that dumb deputy didn’t know what had hit him!”

More chuckles and snorts followed. The “dumb deputy” in question went rigid beside me.

“Don’t worry about them,” I said. “You’ll have the last laugh.”

“There for a minute, I was afraid we’d have to wait for a better opportunity to take Rich out. Gertie Hebert showed up with someone we didn’t recognize. I was about to call the hit off when Lorenzo jumped in front of the gals and provided enough of a distraction.”

“Now do you see why Gertie and Ida Belle are problems?” Carter asked. “One or both of them are always smack dab in the middle of an investigation bound to go wrong. Even the criminals know them by name.”

“This time it was a coincidence.” I didn’t point out that the criminals seemed to fear Gertie and Ida Belle, a fact he could’ve used to his advantage.

Carter pressed his forefinger to his lips, squatted down, and peered around the side of the house. I held my breath. The laughter and conversation on the other side of the wall suggested we were outnumbered by at least two or more.

“So where is Peanut tonight?”

Someone said, “She’s probably with Lorenzo. He doesn’t want her out of his sight.”

“Don’t blame him there,” another man said. “No one trusts her. She’s dangerous.”

They were acting as if Peanut had pulled the trigger herself, but that was impossible. Carter had been standing right there. He would’ve seen the weapon. The close-range blast should’ve been enough to serve up the shooter on a silver platter.

No, Peanut wasn’t our girl.

“Come on,” Carter said, grabbing my hand and taking off through the swamp like the hounds of hell were on our heels.

We ran back to the boat and I stepped into the role of lookout as Carter pushed us off. By that time, someone was on the porch screaming, “Anyone there?”

Resisting the temptation to taunt a few criminals, I took the wheel on the chance that we had to make a quick escape. I’d been on a boat enough now that I was pretty convinced I could handle one.

“Let’s move,” Carter said, bumping me with his hip.

A lightweight and a klutz, I tilted sideways and almost went overboard but Carter wrapped his muscular arm around my waist and hauled me to safety. “Sit.”

“Should I wag my tail and beg for a treat now or later?”

“You’re something else. You know that?”

Truer words were never spoken. In Sinful, nothing and no one were ever as they seemed…including me. 

Chapter Six

“Speak of the devil.”

“Or traitor,” Ida Belle suggested, never turning around.

Gertie’s hair was standing straight up. The breakfast tray in front of her suggested that she hadn’t been awake long. Removing the lid on her coffee, she inhaled the fumes and focused on Ida Belle. “Now you know how it feels to be left behind.”

“Ida Belle, I can explain.”

“Walter did that already. Thank you very much.”

“I can’t wait to hear Walter’s version,” I said, believing I could make it up to Ida Belle but not quite sure where to start.  

“Walter says a lot of things,” Ida Belle snapped.

“None of which Ida Belle will share with you now, Fortune,” Gertie added, wrinkling her nose as she peered at her breakfast.

“The too-yellow eggs should be your first clue,” Ida Belle said. “Want me to run over to Francine’s and grab us something edible?”

“And leave me with the traitor?” Gertie rapidly shook her head. “She might get my nurse to shoot my IV full of morphine.” She glared at Ida Belle. “Paybacks are a bitch and best friends can be.”

Ida Belle sneered. “I was looking out for you.”

“Let me worry about me…and Fortune.”

Ida Belle huffed. “That’ll be the day. We don’t know the half of what she does.”

“Are you planning to pout all day or is there any chance you might let bygones be bygones so we can discuss the case?”

“I can if you can,” Ida Belle said, grinning at Gertie as if she’d planned to play that card all along.

Gertie stuck out her hand. Ida Belle shook it. Together, they chanted, “Deal.”

“All right, Fortune. Let’s hear it,” Ida Belle said, the urgency of the situation apparently driving her to keep the peace.

“Carter took me to a shack last night.”

“How was he?” Gertie asked, never cracking a smile.

“He was fine,” I bit out, understanding her layered meaning. “We would’ve staked the place out but we were outnumbered.”

“Serves you right,” Ida Belle said.

“What about bygones?” Gertie asked, nodding at me. “Continue, Fortune.”

I hurriedly explained everything that had happened. Wrapping it up, I said, “So this Lorenzo was a player. He jumped in front of us at Rich’s and Peanut’s which suggests that our shooter was somewhere between us and the troublesome couple’s front porch.”

“Or the shots came from inside?” Ida Belle suggested.

“Not possible,” Gertie informed her, taking a bite of her biscuit and holding her jaw. “I may take you up on a bagel. Baked rocks are tough on these gums.”

“Drop your fangs and you’ll manage,” Ida Belle said, her offer to fetch breakfast now a thing of the past.

“Peanut must’ve shot him.”

“How?” Gertie asked, tossing the biscuit and jumping when it landed in the metal wastebasket with a thud. “Carter would’ve seen the smoking gun.”

“Carter
should’ve
seen the smoking gun, but it doesn’t mean he did. We are talking about Deputy Carter LeBlanc here.” Only, as I pointed out the obvious, I wasn’t buying the fact. Something about the whole situation didn’t add up.

Ida Belle stood. “Come on, Fortune.”

“Where are you going?” Gertie looked outright helpless.

“I smell a rat and I’m going to find him,” Ida Belle said.

“Are you talking about Carter?” Gertie asked.

“None other.” Ida Belle turned to me. “We’re going to the crime scene. If my suspicions are right, Deputy LeBlanc will have some explaining to do.” 

****

“Everything happens for a reason, Fortune,” Ida Belle said, ducking under the yellow crime scene tape.

“I know that’s a fact.” I stood back and took a deep breath, thinking of the circumstances that had led me to this very place. My reason had been a pair of stilettos. Thanks to those shoes, I was still among the living. Compliments of that particular footwear, a criminal with a dangerous past was no longer able to claim the same. “I’m in Sinful today because everything happens for a reason.”

“For all we know that particular reason could be right here,” Ida Belle said, glancing around the porch. “You take the high road. I’ll take the low.”

Ida Belle and I had worked together on similar cases. It was strange to think of our investigations as such, but we worked well as a team. A good five inches taller than Ida Belle, I stood on my tiptoes and checked the usual places above windows and doors while she tousled furniture and searched potted plants and doormats.

“Nothing,” I said, brushing the dust off my hands.

Ida Belle flashed a brass key and a smile. “Let’s go.”

A minute later, we split up and checked the house for clues. We searched the place for close to an hour, raking over every inch of the place.