miss fortune mystery (ff) - hiding in the bayou (8 page)

“Weren’t you afraid that no one would believe such nonsense?” At least Ida Belle shared my interest on the topic.

“He didn’t see me fire the gun or he would’ve said so. He had turned to look at the car so when he focused on me again, I could see he was surprised. When he yelled at me, he told me to get down. I realized then that he hadn’t seen what had happened.”

“So you accused him.”

“The charges weren’t going to stick. Everyone knows Carter and those who do know he’d never hurt anyone intentionally.”

“I don’t think you fired the gun at all,” I said, grabbing Ida Belle by the arm and wondering why Peanut was still lying. Perhaps she had been in shock after viewing the video of her brother’s murder. Maybe she was covering for someone. Whatever it was, I planned to get to the bottom of it. “Come on. We need to find Peanut’s gun.”

“Peanut, wait here,” Ida Belle said. “Gertie, if Carter or anyone else comes snooping around, hide Peanut under the bed. And if Carter shows, stall him until we get back.”

“I’m on it.”

Chapter Ten

“What are you thinking, Fortune?” Ida Belle drove like a maniac while I tried to buckle up and dial Carter at the same time.

“I don’t think she killed him,” I said, hoping I was right. “First, I think she’s on drugs. Did you notice her glassy eyes?”

“It’s possible, but unlikely. Pot is rampant in these parts but everything else is a thing of the past. Why would anyone take drugs when the best moonshine in the South is sold right here on Sinful’s streets.”

“Ida Belle, this may shock you straight from the Dark Ages, but not everyone sips moonshine.”

“You keep believing that, Fortune,” Ida Belle said. A beat later, she asked, “If Peanut didn’t kill him. Who did?”

“Lorenzo was in the crowd, but he was standing right in front of Gertie. The shooter was somewhere else, maybe on top of Francine’s Café.”

“I hope you’re right. It would be wonderful for Francine’s business. Why folks would come from miles around just to see the place.” I stared at Ida Belle in disbelief until she added, “What?”

“You never cease to amaze me,” I said, listening to Carter’s phone ring.

“Is this the woman who loves swimming with gators?” Carter’s voice filled the line.

I held the phone to my chest. “He saved me from going overboard last night.”

“Laugh,” Ida Belle said. “Men love it when you laugh at their stupid jokes.”

I hit the mute button. “This coming from the woman who has turned down forty plus years of marriage proposals from the same man?” I returned to the call. “Carter, I need you to go to Tipsy Tailgate ASAP. I think the men who killed Rich and Tipsy will be there loading up all the cash they can find.”

“What do you mean, the men who killed Rich? Peanut killed Rich.”

“I don’t think she did and I’m about to prove it. The porch has a couple of loose planks. The gun should be there. I’m on the way to Peanut’s place right now and—”

Ida Belle grabbed the phone and disconnected our call. “What are you doing?”

“We can’t be two places at one time,” I said.

Ida Belle adjusted her rearview mirror. “Carter must have the same problem. He’s behind us.”

“All right then. Drop me off and I’ll meet you at the junkyard.”

“You got it.” She whipped her car around in the middle of the street, gunning the motor as I hopped out and raced Carter to the porch.

“Stand back!” He yelled, winded. “You’re interfering with an ongoing investigation.”

“Look Mr. Deputy of the Year, I’m the one who told you where to find a possible murder weapon!”

Carter eyed the porch and then squatted next to the uneven flooring. After a few tries, he located the right board. As soon as he lifted it up, the small handgun was visible.

After he checked the chamber, he held up a blank cartridge filled with paper. “How’d you know about this?”

“Lucky, I guess.”

“We make our own luck in this town.”

“I’m starting to believe it.”

“Tell me something. Why didn’t you go to the academy and use your brains for the greater good?”

Playing my part, I shrugged and said, “I was always afraid my temper would get the best of me and I’d kill someone with a stiletto or sewing needle.”

My cell phone buzzed about the time Carter’s rang, too. He walked one way and I walked the other. “Talk to me, Ida Belle.”

“Robert was already here and he brought company.”

“Feds?”

“You got it,” Ida Belle replied, seemingly pleased. Tipsy’s former employees along with Rich’s second rate mobsters will be going away for a long time.”

“Looks like we can chalk this up to another solved case,” I said. “What would Sinful do without us?”

“Let’s hope we never have to find out. In the meantime, I need a vacation,” she said, revving up her engine.

“Showing out for the boys in blue?”

“No. Walter is here. He loves it when I do a burnout.”

“Try smiling. It’s more ladylike.”

“Humph. I’ll do that and let you know how it goes.”

“Meet me at the hospital. Carter will give me a lift.” Disconnecting the call, I turned to ask for that ride, and was immediately taken aback when Carter framed my face and kissed me.

At first I tried to resist, but then I conceded and actually enjoyed myself, too. When our lips finally separated, we each took a step back.

“Now then. The kissing is out of the way so we know we’re on the same page.”

I swallowed. Now wasn’t the time to start a relationship. I was running from a man who was willing to pay a large sum for my head. One day soon I hoped to return to the CIA. Of course there was always that chance that I could meet an early demise.

“Have dinner with me.”

“Because we’re on the same page?”

“What would you call it?”

A kiss
. “I need a ride back to the hospital.”
A really nice kiss.

“Not until you answer me.”

“I can walk.”

He moved aside. “Then you’ll miss the moment when I tell Peanut she’s off the hook.”

“I can live with that.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“You are one stubborn woman.”

“Yes I am.”

He cursed under his breath. “Have it your way.”

As I watched a frustrated Carter hop in his monster truck, I felt enormous guilt and an overwhelming sense of relief, too. For the time being, Carter wouldn’t willingly put his heart on the line for someone he really didn’t know and I could protect my own at the same time. Plus, I didn’t know Peanut. If I missed the whole, “You’re free to go” bit, I’d survive.

Epilogue

A month later, Gertie returned to church on Sunday. After the sermon, we parked her wheelchair next to the back pew and as soon as the final prayer ended, Ida Belle gave her a good shove and Gertie was off.

The banana pudding wars, quite legendary in these parts, had become even more notorious since Rich’s death. As Ida Belle had predicted, Francine’s Café had gained popularity once the truth came out about Rich’s murder.

“Uh-oh.” I spotted Celia and moved aside so Ida Belle could see this with her own eyes.

“No way!” Ida Belle screamed, running across the parking lot. “Celia! You come back here! Do you hear me! You’re cheating!”

Celia punched her wheelchair’s automatic button, determined to beat Gertie at her own game. Gertie’s wheelchair hummed right along and Gertie enjoyed the ride, laughing as she took the clear lead ahead of Celia.

The Catholics followed Celia up the sidewalk, rooting for her until the clear winner was determined. Francine swung open the café doors and Gertie shot through the restaurant, throwing her arms up in the air. “Victory!” 

“She’s such a sore winner.”

“She’s a sore loser, too,” Ida Belle reminded me. “I couldn’t have lived with her if she’d lost today.”

“How’s the rooming situation going?”

“Swell,” Ida Belle grumbled but her nose twitched, suggesting she probably enjoyed the company. “She should be able to stay on her own again in a few weeks. Not to change the subject but Walter shared an interesting tidbit about you and Carter.”

“Oh?” I followed her inside Francine’s. Coming to an abrupt halt, I asked, “What’s
he
doing here?”

“Carter and Walter are joining us for lunch today.”

“Why?”

“I guess Carter sort of figures you owe him a date.”

“And why would he ‘figure’ on that?”

“Are we really going to stand here and pretend that you didn’t put the cart before the horse?”

Picking up a line from Gertie, I said, “Only on Sunday.”

“Then come Monday, we’re talking about that kiss,” Ida Belle said, leaving me to fend for myself.

“Carter,” I said, hoping he didn’t do something ridiculous like mention our smooch, too.

It was much worse.

He took my hand, laced our fingers together and said, “Right this way. I saved you a seat.”

“Carter, I think there’s something I should probably tell you.”

He leaned over and whispered at my ear, “I already know everything I need to know.”

Rather than argue, I decided to go with it. Hiding in the bayou would only remain possible if I kept a stiff upper lip. I could do that as long as Carter kept his mouth to himself. If not, I’d whisper sweet nothings instead of harrowing truths. I could make that work, at least for a little while.

About the Author

A professional writer for more than fourteen years, Riley Blake enjoys cooking, reading, going to garage sales, and redecorating her home with thrifty items. An animal lover, Riley has a potbelly pig, a few dogs, a couple of horses, and a chicken named Lord Wings.

Writing in the Miss Fortune series at Kindle Worlds, Riley’s novellas have been #1 Kindle Worlds bestsellers and mystery, thriller & suspense bestsellers. She has several books slated for late 2015 and early 2016. Follow her book page at
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Hiding in the Bayou
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