miss fortune mystery (ff) - hiding in the bayou (7 page)

“And we’ll give it to him. Just as soon as Peanut confesses to murder and tells us who blackmailed her.”

“You think she was blackmailed?”

“We’re certain of it.” 

Ida Belle pointed at me. “What she said.”

Carter said, “I’m probably wasting my breath here, but you need to let me handle this.”

“We’ll help you,” I offered. “You saw how resourceful I can be.”

“When?”

“In the bayou?”

I still wasn’t real clear why he’d taken me. Given the look on Carter’s face, I feared Walter had been right. He hadn’t needed me. He used the allure of a good mystery to trick me into what might have been a first date of sorts.

“Why did you bring this money here?”

“Because Tipsy will be looking for it and that’s when you can get him to talk to his sister. Once she rolls over on—” Ida Belle stopped talking all at once. “Ah no.”

Carter crossed those sexy boulder-like arms over his chest. “Uh-huh. A few million dollars later and you’re finally starting to see this through my eyes.”

“Tipsy is the one who wanted Rich dead,” I said, piecing it together then.

“Sheriff Lee and I have a theory. We believe Tipsy helped his father build their business. He didn’t mind to share it with his sister, but he wasn’t about to let Rich lay around all day and collect a paycheck. We recently found out that Tipsy Senior once offered Rich a job. Rich turned it down and said, “He had all the money he’d ever need right there in the junkyard.”

“So Rich signed his own death warrant?”

“Tipsy Junior made the same offer but he wasn’t as forgiving as Tipsy Senior. His blood, sweat, and tears had gone into that business. The company had serviced eight counties and those tow trucks were always on the move. They needed help and Rich was too lazy to work. From what we’ve heard from a few reliable sources, Tipsy wasn’t about to let him collect a paycheck.”

“You have it all wrong.” A man’s shrill voice filled the room. I gasped as soon as the fifty-something year old man stepped into view. “Ladies.” He turned to Carter. “Deputy LeBlanc.”

“You must be Peanut’s brother,” I said, knowing better. I kept Ida Belle in my sights as she backed up a few steps. Given his size, Jolly Giant was intimidating.

He ignored me and turned to Carter. “What’d ya say, I take these bags off your hands, walk out of here, and we pretend this never happened?”

“I’ll need to talk to Tipsy before I release his money.”

The man studied Carter a long time before he said, “He’s out of town.”

“For how long?” I asked, thinking Lorenzo’s delayed answer had come at a revealing price. Tipsy wasn’t out of town. Tipsy was probably buried a few feet below the junkyard.

Perhaps Ida Belle and I should’ve kept digging.

Carter had it all wrong. In fact, it looked as if we were all following a cold trail.

“Who are you?” Lorenzo narrowed his eyes. “I’ve seen you around town.”

I stuck out my hand. “I’m Marge Boudreaux’s great niece.” Acting the blonde bit, I bounced into ditz mode. “You’ve probably heard her talk about me. I’m Sandy-Sue.” Thumbing the air over my shoulder, I quickly added, “I’m sure you’ve seen the big navy blue Victorian down the street. Nondescript front yard, new mailbox at the end of the driveway, and—”

“I don’t care,” Lorenzo said, pointing at the bags. “You stole from me.”

“No we didn’t,” Ida Belle said. “First, we didn’t steal anything. Secondly, it’s not yours. The luggage even has Tipsy’s logo on the side.”

“And that makes the bills marked as his, too?” Lorenzo laughed.

“As far as I’m concerned? Yes.” Ida Belle chuckled, too. The laughter stopped abruptly and Ida Belle asked, “Where is Tipsy?” She sounded like a different person.

“Unavailable.”

“Unavailable as in dead or unavailable as in he’ll return in a few days or weeks?” Her voice hardened by the second.

“Carter, I don’t want any trouble,” Lorenzo said, turning his back to us.

“You should’ve thought of that before you came in here and tried to claim cash that didn’t belong to you, Lorenzo,” Carter said, drawing on Lorenzo before he had a chance to do the same.

“You’ll wish you hadn’t done this.”

“Doubtful.” Gripping his pistol, Carter kept a steady hand. “Put ‘em where I can see ‘em.”

Noticing the gun at Lorenzo’s belt, I leapt forward and removed his only visible weapon. Earning a smile from Carter, I held it with two fingers and tossed it to the table as if it terrified me to hold such a beast of a weapon.

It was a thirty-eight. I nearly foamed at the mouth.

“You should be nominated for award-winning performances,” Ida Belle said under her breath. She immediately withdrew her phone and dialed 9-1-1.  After she passed along Carter’s address, she asked, “Now where can we find Tipsy’s body?”

Lorenzo, thug that he was, glared at Ida Belle and said, “I’d have to kill you if I told you.”

“Then you can sit on your information. I never liked the little punk anyway.”

****

Thirty minutes later, Gertie greeted us with a smile and piece of paper. “Thanks for letting me listen in. It was nice to have a minute without thinking about my suicidal tendencies.”

“So you heard what some of the locals are saying,” Ida Belle said.

“Not locals.” Her nostrils flared. “Celia.”

“What’s this?” I asked, changing the subject and tapping Gertie’s notes.

“Details,” Gertie stated proudly. “I’ve known Peanut since she was pint-size. She didn’t kill her husband unless someone was holding a gun to her blasted head. Even then, she wouldn’t have pulled the trigger unless—”

“Someone was threatening Tipsy.” Ida Belle fell to a nearby chair, acting as if she didn’t have the strength to go on. “Why didn’t I see this from the start?”

“I can think of a few reasons,” I said, still unsure how she might have pulled off the kill shot with Carter standing right there beside her. “He saw something.”

“He had to have seen the whole thing,” Gertie said, pointing at the paper she’d just handed me. “Either way, we’re about to blow the lid off this. Peanut is on her way over here now.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Ida Belle groaned. “Don’t answer that.” She nodded at the IV. “How much dope have you had today?”

“Not enough to deal with what we have heading our way,” Gertie assured her. “Sit tight, ladies. We’re about to see a hell of a finale and it’s sure to leave us begging for an encore.”

Chapter Nine

“Are we alone?” Peanut cautiously entered Gertie’s room with a spring bouquet in hand.

“Nice touch,” Gertie said, turning to me. “Find some water. Would you?”

“Sure,” I said, taking the flowers from Peanut. “But I’ll warn you. Don’t be surprised if these don’t wilt while you’re here.”

Peanut didn’t laugh. Come to think of it, no one did. Tensions were high.

The young woman must’ve realized Gertie had put together part of the puzzle. Peanut was there to throw in the missing pieces and link the rest of the darn mystery together.

She’d walked in alone, bearing gifts. She would soon leave with an escort, her hands cuffed behind her back.

“They killed my brother.”

Ida Belle looked like she’d just funneled caffeine. Instantly alert, she said, “Well that’s one way to get us started off.”

Gertie patted her bed. “Come sit down, child.”

I had to give Gertie props where they were due. She’d apparently picked up on Peanut’s need for kindness and guidance.

Tears filled Peanut’s eyes and as soon as Gertie took her hand in hers, the dam broke and she cried like a little girl. It was heartbreaking.

“Now stop that.” Ida Belle snatched a box of tissues from Gertie’s nightstand. “We can’t have you upsetting the patient.” Ida Belle’s stab at compassion was touching.

“Things could be worse,” I pointed out, tapping Gertie’s cast. “You could be stuck in this bed at everyone else’s mercy.”

“Way to cram that foot in your mouth,” Ida Belle said.

I winced. She was right.

Peanut sniffed. “I know all about being at someone else’s mercy and I’d much rather be here than paying my dues to the Redneck Mob.”

With the casual reference, I paid attention. Harrison had mentioned the Redneck Mob. Apparently this group had a nasty reputation. I probably hadn’t heard of them for obvious reasons—I preferred hanging out with arms dealers.

It was a prestige thing.

“Start at the beginning,” I said, trying not to sound like a typical CIA agent. Catching a quick glance from Ida Belle, I realized I’d stumbled right out of the gate. “I mean, start where it’s comfortable.”

“Worse,” Gertie grumbled, turning to Peanut again. “We need to know as much as possible so we can help you.”

“The light is not at the end of this tunnel,” Ida Belle said, never minced for words.

Gertie sneered. “Enough, Ida Belle.”

“I know you liked Rich,” Peanut began.

“Not particularly.” Gertie cleared her throat. “I mean, he was okay on a Tuesday, I guess. That’s generally when I saw him walking your dog.”

“That mutt wasn’t mine.” She sniffed and dabbed her eyes. “It was Maureen’s.”

“Who’s Maureen?” I asked, trying to keep up.

“She’s her third cousin by marriage, on her mother’s side,” Gertie said. “Go on, honey.”

Sometimes I wondered if Gertie and Ida Belle kept a Sinful drawing depicting what happened in their beloved town. As things happened in their community, they likely plugged in the information keeping up with each person’s family tree by chronicling day-to-day activities.  The drawing was likely maintained by the Sinful Ladies Society.

“Let’s stick to what’s important,” I suggested.

“Who is she again?” Peanut asked.

“Where are my manners?” Gertie waved her arm sideways. “Sandy-Sue, meet Peanut. First names are all you need, thanks to present circumstances and all.”

“She means you’re destined for jail unless we can figure out a way to help you,” Ida Belle said.

Peanut gulped. After a moment, she said, “We weren’t loyal to one another but that’s not what got us here. Rich loved the finer things in life.” She tucked her hair behind her ears, sat a little taller, and brushed lint from her shoulders. “Obviously.”

I let that one slide without an eye-roll. Ida Belle didn’t. “Stay on point.”

“After my father died, I received a letter from Daddy’s attorney. Rich was the first to realize that I’d inherited fifty percent of Tipsy Tailgate. I always assumed he’d leave me his personal belongings, maybe some cash, but the business would go to Tipsy Junior. It was only fair. He’d worked there. Anyway, Rich intercepted the letter. I didn’t know anything about it. Tipsy didn’t receive anything in the mail, at least not right away.”

“Why?” Gertie asked.

Peanut smiled. “He was on his honeymoon when the documents arrived. Rich went to his house, retrieved his mail, put together a crew of thugs, and paid the attorney a visit. Daddy’s lawyer lacked scruples and told Rich everything he wanted to know. Rich arranged to have Tipsy abducted and once he was out of the way, the plan was in motion.”

“They were blackmailing you and your brother for a large percentage of Tipsy Tailgate,” Ida Belle said.

“No. A portion wasn’t good enough. I offered. Rich wanted Tipsy Junior’s fifty percent. He wanted it all. Anyway, to make a long story short, he made Tipsy believe they were going to kill me if he didn’t sign away his inheritance. Once Rich had Tipsy’s signature, he killed him.” Peanut burst into tears. “Afterward, Rich’s guys called him out to a meeting. His other thugs came to the house and made me watch the video. It was terrible.”  

“Who made you watch?” I needed clarification.

“Lorenzo and Nik. They worked for Rich. Anyway, as soon as I saw the proof, I cracked. They were too happy to assist with my need for revenge. They handed me the tools I needed to execute the murder. Without them, I might have been rational but I doubt it. I wanted Rich to suffer. He had assured me that if I cooperated, Tipsy would live. His own men double-crossed him and made it possible for me to do the same. They gave me a gun and set up the plan. I used my cousin to start the fight.”

“Clearly you didn’t think this through,” Ida Belle said. “If you’d come to us, we could’ve helped you carry out the perfect—”

“Ida Belle,” Gertie said gently. “What’s done is done.”

Something still didn’t add up. “What’d you do with the guns?”

“I only had one. It’s probably still under the porch. There are two loose planks near the stoop. That’s where Rich used to hide his weed.” She turned to Gertie. “He smoked a lot of pot.”

“I remember hearing something about that.” As if it mattered. Gertie then turned to Ida Belle. “He also bought a lot of your formulated cough syrup back in the day.”

“You mean the moonshine?” Peanut asked.

“Shh,” Gertie snapped. “We don’t want that to get out.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think the whole community knows.” Peanut never blinked an eye.

“You don’t say.” Ida Belle didn’t either. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

I balked at that. They handed out samples at community functions. “So your brother and husband are dead. Now, two complete strangers will what? Make off with your inheritance?”

“I suppose so.” She cried once more. “Oh Gertie, what should I do?”

“We’ll work it out,” said Gertie.

“Why did you accuse Carter?” I asked.

“Oh for heaven’s sake. Are you still stuck on that?” Gertie asked.