miss fortune mystery (ff) - hiding in the bayou (6 page)

“Nothing jumps out at me,” I said, thinking there was a reason why I preferred the title CIA assassin to investigator. I didn’t have the patience for the tedious task of going through someone else’s things in hopes of finding a shred of evidence. In my line of work, I was able to get in, get out, and chalk up another job as completed.

Here in Sinful, things weren’t that simple.

“We’re missing something,” Ida Belle said, narrowing her eyes on the open door and walking out to the porch once more.

“Ida Belle,” I snapped. “Someone might see you.”

She put her hands on her hips and straightened her back. “They’re out there watching us, Fortune. Never doubt that.” She slowly turned around as if she’d had a thought. “Where were you and Gertie standing again?”

I pointed. “Over there next to the stop sign.”

“And where was Carter?”

“Here.” I stepped over the chalk outline and indicated Carter’s position. “And Peanut was standing where you are now.”

“Point-blank range.”

“It couldn’t have been.”

“Did you see the body?” Ida Belle asked.

“No. We were held for questioning. The medical examiner and his team hauled Rich out of here before I had a chance to see him.”

“They wouldn’t have let you get close to this porch anyway. You’re an outsider.”

“And I guess you would’ve been invited to take a look around and weigh in with an opinion?”

Ida Belle smirked. “You’re learning, Fortune.” She frowned at the drawing and narrowed her eyes on a pool of dried blood. “But you’re not too good with forensics.” Before I could comment, she added, “He could’ve easily been shot at point-blank range.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve seen my share of crime scenes, Fortune. This much of a blood splatter suggests Rich saw his killer. Now we have to ask ourselves this: Was anyone else on this porch?”

“I was right over there,” I reminded her, indicating the stop sign again. “The man now known as Lorenzo jumped in front of us so it is possible that someone else could’ve darted across the porch, pumped a few rounds in Rich’s body, and rolled to the ground before anyone saw him.”

“But?”

“It didn’t happen,” I said, certain of the fact.

“So we’re back to three. One ended up dead so we have two suspects—Carter and Peanut.”

“My money is on Peanut,” I said. “She had motive.”

“I don’t see where bandaging a relative’s knee is motive enough to kill someone.”

“Apparently he ran around some.”

Ida Belle grinned. “You’re starting to sound like a Southerner.” She laughed. “Just call him like you see him. He was a cheater.”

“Okay. Rich
supposedly
cheated on Peanut.”

“Supposedly?” Ida Belle cocked her head. “Honey, those two dropped their drawers so much, everyone in town knew what color and brand of underwear they wore.” She walked back inside, pacing from one side of the small living room to the other. “If these walls could talk.”

“The first thing they would ask is, ‘What are you doing here?’ It would go downhill from there.”

Ida Belle jumped. For once, I didn’t.

“Deputy Carter LeBlanc in the flesh,” I muttered, thinking he probably shouldn’t be there.

“Let’s try this again.
Why
are you here?”

“I could ask you the same,” Ida Belle said. “You’re a suspect, Carter. Get out of here and leave the real detective work to the one who is watching out for you.”

Carter stared down the gentle slope of his nose and said, “Ida Belle, you’re trespassing.”

“And you aren’t?”

“I’m a deputy. I’m investigating.”

“A murder that some think you committed,” she reminded him.

“All right, ladies. I don’t have time for this. Out with it. What are you doing here?”

I looked at Ida Belle and she shrugged. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Want me to guess?” He grinned at me and I braced for it. “The town newcomer wanted to raid Peanut’s closet.”

“You keep thinking that.” A beat later, I added, “Is that the best you can do?” 

He looked all male then when his eyes flashed with something more than mischief. “I could do better but we’re in the presence of company.”

“Don’t mind me,” Ida Belle said, sounding like Gertie then. “Give it your best shot.”

“Consider this a free pass.” He then turned to Ida Belle and said, “You’d better have a good explanation for being here. Sheriff Lee is on his way over to conduct a more thorough investigation.”

Carter wanted answers and Ida Belle wasn’t giving them up. All things considered, the good deputy had a better chance of joining the Sinful Ladies Society and bumping Ida Belle off her coveted leadership post.

“Ida Belle? What do you have to say for yourself?”

She blinked and her face lit up with one of her notorious ah-ha moments. “Carter, I’m going to ask you this one time.” She hesitated before she continued. “Did you see Peanut shoot and kill Rich?”

“No.”

“All right then.” She turned to me. “Let’s go. As of this very moment, Deputy Carter LeBlanc can’t be trusted.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

“He knows Peanut is the killer.”

“How do you know?” I followed Ida Belle inside my temporary residence. She grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and opened the back door. “Go on, Bones. Get out of here for a minute.”

“Thank you.” I accepted the generous gift of hydration and followed her yet again, this time to the back patio.

Once there, we each chose a chair. “So why would Carter take me out to the bayou if he already knew who was guilty?”

“According to Walter, he used this situation to his advantage. He didn’t need you. He took you along and probably considered the excursion as a first date.”

“He needed me.”

“If you say so,” Ida Belle said. “He has his shooter—Peanut. Now he wants the men who put her up to it.”

“What if there isn’t anyone?”

“You heard enough last night to know that there’s
someone
.”

“True, but I think Peanut would’ve killed Rich
just because
.”

“Just because?” Ida Belle balked at that. “Fortune, you don’t know anything at all about marriage. A woman or a man can cheat all day but let their other half do the same and it’s a recipe for murder, only in this case? It wasn’t. Those two have been die-hard cheaters since their first date and it never bothered either one of them.”

“If I wanted you dead, you’d be sixteen feet under with a hundred pounds of cement drying on top of your sorry, cheating, stubborn, dead-beat of a well proportioned tail!”

“What?” Ida Belle was clearly dumbfounded.

“That’s what
Peanut said
when she followed Rich to the yard. I think it was a masked threat. It didn’t mean anything to the audience but Rich seemed to know exactly what she was talking about.”

“You’re sure about the concrete?”

“Verbatim.”

“Well why didn’t you say so?” Ida Bella arched a brow. “Now I know where we can find our co-conspirators or at least a few clues to lead us to them.”

An hour later, we stood in the middle of a burial ground with shovels in hand. After raiding Marge’s shed for tools, we’d headed out of town. Minutes later, we landed on the earthly version of hell. Staring up at the trashed cars and totaled trucks, I was certain of my fate.

My body would later be found in a junkyard.

“I don’t know which is more disturbing.” I stared at the ground. “The fact that we’re about to dig up dead bodies or the fact that these people weren’t buried in a cemetery and you and Gertie knew it all along.”

“We don’t know anything for sure, Fortune. Gertie never had the stomach for this or we would’ve been digging out here a long time ago. You seemed eager to get to the bottom of this and this place harbors many secrets.”

“I wouldn’t use eager exactly,” I said, propping up a shovel against Ida Belle’s car while I slipped on a pair of work gloves.

Director Morrow’s voice of reason provoked me to ask, “Isn’t this illegal?” Before she could answer, I added, “Normal rules and laws don’t typically apply to you and Gertie, but aren’t there a few exceptions?” 

“If we were digging up marked graves in a cemetery, we might have a problem. For now, we’re following a lead before alarming anyone. I’ve heard rumors about this place for years. No one else was willing to dig for the truth.”

“Wonder why?” I slowly rotated to my right in a clockwise fashion taking in our surroundings again. Tipsy Tailgates was a junkyard that likely earned its name due to the way they stacked the cars at a slanted angle. “Aren’t you afraid the scrap metal will fall like dominoes once we start moving dirt around?”

Ida Belle glanced up. “If I go out this way, it’s meant to be. I’ve lived a long and enjoyable life and I’m willing to go when it’s my time.”

“I’m sure the man upstairs appreciates your compliance.” I wasn’t as optimistic about facing death.

“Don’t worry, Fortune. I have a good eye for this stuff. That’s why I parked over there.” She nodded at her prized possession. “Stay on this side of the car and we’ll be just fine.”

“If you say so,” I said, vaguely aware of the barking dogs in the distance. “Since we’re out here digging for dead people, do you mind telling me who we’re looking for?”

“It’s not who, Fortune. It’s what.” Ida Belle stuck her shovel in the ground first. “And Peanut’s threat wasn’t what triggered a thought. It provoked a memory.”

“Okay so what are we looking for exactly?”

“Bones are inevitable,” she said, tossing a few of them over her shoulder. “Sinful folks used to drive out here and bury their beloved pets. That was before Tipsy bought the property.”

“And Tipsy would be?”

Ida Belle tossed more dirt over her shoulder. “Tipsy Senior was Peanut’s father.”

“Was?”

“He died last year.”

“Who runs the business now?”

“Peanut’s brother, Tipsy Junior.”

“So the plot thickens.” I scanned the layers of cars. “Place looks like a gold mine.” Big profits were made in the junkyard business.

Ida Belle struck something. She jabbed it a few times and then hooked her shovel underneath and pulled at leather straps. “The gold isn’t in the business, Fortune, but in what lies beneath it.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

“I remember the day I first met you,” Carter said, not at all pleased to see us. We hadn’t phoned ahead and it was approaching the midnight hour when we pulled in his driveway. “I knew you were trouble right then.”

“Look at the bright side,” Ida Belle reasoned. “We didn’t try our hand at breaking and entering.”

“She means we could’ve picked the locks.”

“Don’t ever break in my house,” Carter said firmly, moving aside. “Since you’re here…”

Ida Belle marched inside, rolling two suitcases behind her. I followed suit, dropping a large tote at Carter’s door. “We have a few more outside.”

“More?” He frowned at the bags and followed me to Ida Belle’s car. “I’ll regret asking this later, but what is all this?”

“You’ll see,” I said, grabbing a couple of leather bags and leaving the last two for the good deputy.

Once settled inside Carter’s living room, Ida Belle blurted, “Go on. Open one.”

He hesitated. “Before I do, want to tell me where you found these?”

“Tipsy Tailgates.”

His eyes widened. “Ida Belle, are you out of your mind?”

“There had to be a motive, Carter. Now, we know what it is.”

“I knew what it was from the very beginning!” He yanked one bag open and then another, grimacing at the sight of cash. “What have you done?” He stared at Ida Belle in disbelief. “Tipsy will be looking for this money, Ida Belle.”

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