The Miss Fortune Series: Nearly Departed (Kindle Worlds Novella) (11 page)

“Why are you doing this?” I asked
Jo-Jo. “She’s not even Bertie.”

“Yeah, I
know. Pretty stupid of me, huh? All this time I thought it was a ‘G,’ but now I
remember it was a ‘B.’ Stupid, stupid, stupid!” he said shaking his fists.

“No you’re
not!”

“You’re a
smart guy!”

“Spelling
is overrated!”

We all
talked at once.

“Quiet!” he
shouted. “So where is this Bertie now? I want you to take me to her. Me and her
has a date with destiny.”

“Uh…”
Gertie said, looking over at Ida Belle.

“Yeah…
Bertie… She’s…”

In all
likelihood Bertie had died and they were too afraid to tell him, not wanting to
set him off.

“Jo-Jo, why
don’t you put the bomb and phone down and we’ll forget about all this, okay?”
Gertie said gently. “I mean, think about all you have to live for. You have a
great job on a film—”

“Great job?
I’m a grunt. I work for the explosives technician and all I get to do is fetch
him stuff. And why? Because Miss Bertie held me back, that’s why.” Jo-Jo shook
his head. “Being in that club coulda opened doors for me. Who knows, maybe I
coulda been a scientist. Instead I quit high school to go to work. And now I
can’t even do anything more than be a grunt! And it all started with her. Well,
I’ll show everyone what I’m capable of doing! I blew up a casket, now I’m going
to go blow up old Bertie Hebert. So where is she?”

Gertie
shrugged. “Um…”

“She lives
along the bayou,” I said.

Gertie’s
eyes narrowed while Ida Belle’s brows pulled together. I couldn’t communicate
my reasoning to them, but we needed to stall for time until we could overpower
him. If he knew the real Bertie had already died, he might freak out and blow
us all up.

“You can
take the boat and go.”

Ida Belle
mouthed,
what?

“Leave you
here to call the cops? I don’t think so.”

I exhaled. In
reality I didn’t want him to go off without us, not with him carrying a bomb
all over town. At least if we were all together we could try to overpower him
and take the bomb away. But I wanted him to think I wanted him to leave us.

“We’re all
going. When we get to her place I’ll let you all go.”

“Sounds
fair enough,” I said.

“Any funny
business and we’re all going kaboom.”

“No funny
business,” I said.

“And no
kaboom,” Gertie added.

He motioned
to the boat. “Ladies first.”

Ida Belle
and I headed for the boat, while Gertie bent to pick up her purse.

“The purse
stays,” he said.

Gertie
sighed and straightened up, following us toward the boat.

“Do you
know what you’re doing?” Ida Belle whispered.

“Hell no.
But we’ll figure something as we go along.”

We walked
to the boat, parked along the bank of the bayou. Jo-Jo ordered us to stop. “Who’s
going to drive it?”

“I will,”
Ida Belle said. “I’m the most qualified.”

“No funny
stuff,” he said.

“Trust me,
we won’t be having fun,” she said. “Keys.”

“I have to
give her the keys,” I told Jo-Jo. “They’re in my pocket.”

“Take ‘em out
slow like.”

I put my
hand in my pocket and slid the keys out, handing them to Ida Belle.

“You two
will sit on the bench together,” Jo-Jo said, pointing to Gertie and me. “Granny
and me will sit on the Captain’s seats.”

Gertie and
I boarded the boat and sat together on the bench. Ida Belle and Jo-Jo took
their seats in the Captain’s chairs.

“So…
Bertie’s house…” Ida Belle said, looking at me.

“Down past
City Hall, remember?” I said to her.

Her lips
upturned slightly. The Bayou widened by City Hall, which would be a great place
to do a hairpin turn, hopefully knocking Jo-Jo into the water. If we were
lucky, Ida Belle could then gun it and clear us from the blast.

If not, we
could all be blown to bits.

Ida Belle
started the engine and pulled slowly away from the bank, heading down the bayou
toward City Hall.

We glided
past homes, some with people in their yards working on boats, some sitting in hammocks.
They waved as we skimmed by, not realizing the man riding along with us could kill
us all.

Jo-Jo held
the cell phone and explosive above his head. Knocking him off the boat would be
easy. I prayed that with the hot sun straight overhead, no one would be out
fishing or near the water when we reached City Hall and Ida Belle could make
her turn.

We passed Bob’s
Bait & Tackle. Gertie and I glanced at one another. Bob’s wasn’t far from
City Hall. We’d have to be prepared to hang on tight once the turn was made.
Gertie clamped her hand onto the bench. I did the same.

I smiled at
Gertie. I don’t know why I thought it, but I wondered if we both died together
and there was an afterlife, if she’d look old or if she’d appear like she did
at the best period in her life. I thought about me. What would I choose? When I
was a little girl before my mom died? Or now, which, I had to be honest, was
the best time in my life. Would I see my mom? I did when I was almost poisoned
a few weeks ago. Would I see my father? Certainly not if I could help it. I
hoped God wouldn’t make me, at least not until I was ready.

We were a
few seconds away from the turn. My grip tightened on the bench. I noticed
Gertie praying. She looked peaceful as she opened her eyes. A single tear
flowed down her cheek.

Ida Belle
sped up. “Bertie’s house is right after the curve,” she yelled to Jo-Jo over
the sound of the engine.

Our boat
came to a widening of the bayou. Ida Belle jerked the boat to the right, but
instead of flying off the boat into the water, Jo-Jo must have instinctively
let go of the explosive in his right hand and grabbed onto the railing for
support.

Before I
could scream, “hang on!” his little bomb landed in my lap.

Wrapping
his right arm around the railing, he held the cell phone trigger up in the air
with his left hand.

Gertie
looked at the bomb in my lap and shrieked.

By then Ida
Belle had already straightened the boat and Jo-Jo screamed at her to stop or
he’d blow us all up. She did as she was ordered, the boat finally stopping in
front of City Hall.

Ida Belle’s
face drained of color. “The luncheon.”

I had
totally forgotten about Celia’s birthday luncheon with Sinful business leaders
and the director filming in Mudbug. The celebration was complete with caterers,
tables and umbrellas. Ida Belle, Gertie and I screamed at the attendees, about
fifteen in all, to run, causing a stampede away from the bayou and toward the
street.

I held up
the explosive and drew my arm back, hoping to throw it as far as I could in the
water. Jo-Jo lunged for me, knocking my arm and disrupting the direction of my
throw. I watched as the bomb went sailing not toward the water, but toward the dessert
table. Jo-Jo pressed his thumb to his cell phone and the bomb exploded the
moment it sailed into the elaborately decorated cake sitting in the middle of
the table.

“Duck!”

The four of
us in the boat hit the bottom. I held my hand over my ears, bracing for the
kaboom.

Pffffft
.

That was
it.

No shaking.
No debris raining on top of us.

Just
Pffffft
.

Slowly,
Gertie, Ida Belle and I lifted our heads. Cake and white frosting covered the
lawn, but that was about it.

Jo-Jo
lifted his head. He must have been expecting Armageddon, because his face was
awash in confusion. He pointed his cell phone at the cakey mess and pressed his
thumb into it. Nothing.

“Ahhh, hell!”
he said. “I can’t do nothing right.”

Gertie
patted him on the arm. “Now, that’s not true, Jo-Jo. You almost killed us all
at the rec center.”

I shook my
head. “Actually, that bomb wasn’t that powerful either.”

“Crud!” he
yelled.

“But you
would have injured Gertie.” I couldn’t believe I was trying to make a bomber
feel better.

He pursed
his lips, pouting.

“Maybe I
would have had a heart attack and died,” Gertie offered him, a hopeful look on
her face.

“Really?
You’re not just saying that?”

“Really.”

“Thanks.”

Carter
poked his head around the City Hall building and spotted us. He tore off across
the lawn and down the bank to the water.

“Is
everyone okay?”

I nodded.
“But if you have your cuffs handy…” I pointed to Jo-Jo. “He took us hostage and
threatened us with a bomb. Sorry, but it blew up Celia’s cake.”

He looked
over at the fondant mess, then back at Jo-Jo.

“Jo-Jo’s
the bomber?”

Jo-Jo made
a show of crossing his arms. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s a
little sensitive,” Gertie said to Carter.

After giving our statements to
Carter, Ida Belle, Gertie and I finally took it easy, resting on chaise lounges
in my back yard and feasting on lemon cake and beer.

“I would
have given anything to have a video of Celia’s face when she saw what that
wimpy bomb did to her birthday cake,” Ida Belle said, before shoving another
forkful of cake in her mouth.

“I guess we
could save her a slice so she could taste what she paid for,” I said.

Gertie
pointed her fork at me. “Do and I may have to shoot you.”

“Sorry your
funeral was ruined.”

Gertie set
her plate on a side table. “Ruined? Are you kidding? They’ll be talking about
this year’s funeral until the day I really die.”

Something
about what she said about really dying struck me wrong. And she knew it.

“You know,
Fortune, maybe now’s a good time to talk about your eulogy.”

“My
eulogy?” I could feel my face flushing.

Ida Belle
nodded. “The part about not being ready to lose us?”

“Oh.”

“We’re not
going anywhere soon, Fortune,” Gertie said.

“We know
we’re not spring chickens—”

“Speak for
yourself.”

Ida Belle
glared at Gertie.

Gertie
glared back and shrugged. “Well, you are a couple of years older than me. I’m
just sayin’.”

“I’m a
couple years older than you during the month between our birthdays. Normally,
I’m just one year older than you.”

“Well… one
year’s one year.”

Ida Belle
shook her head. “Whatever. The point is, we’re a team, Fortune.”

I turned in
my chaise, facing them. “I think we have to face facts. When they get the guy
who has the hit on me, I have to go back to my old life in the CIA.”

“So?”
Gertie said. “We’ll be long-distance friends.”

I sighed.
With my profession, would that even be possible?

“And who
knows,” Gertie added, “maybe they’ll never find him and you’ll have to hide out
indefinitely.” She thought a second. “Well, okay that doesn’t sound so good.”

“Look, we
know things happen. You’ll go back to your old job. And someday… we’ll die.”
Ida Belle pulled in a deep breath and blew it out. “Just like your mom did.”

Those
words. My fist clenched. I had a horrible desire to go punch Ida Belle in the
face for bringing her up.

“That’s
really what’s going on, isn’t it? Why Gertie’s funeral had you so upset?”

I could
feel tears pooling in my eyes, threatening to spill down my face.
Be strong.
You’re my little soldier now, Fortune.
My dad’s words punched through my
memory. As hard as I fought to prevent it, a line of tears made its way down my
face.

“You loved
your mom a lot,” Gertie said gently. She reached over and touched my hand.

My head
bobbed.

“You know,”
Ida Belle said, “if you ever want to talk about her…”

“I tore her
picture up,” I said. “The day of her funeral. I tore her picture up.”

I had never
admitted that to anyone.

“After the
funeral I went to my room and took out a photo of us together, taken the
Christmas before, and tore it into teeny tiny pieces. I put the pieces in a box
and shoved it on the top shelf in my closet. Years later, when I moved out, I
found the box and the pieces and had the photo restored. They did a great job,
but I could still see evidence of the rips.” I could feel my fingers shaking.
“That photo is a reminder of what a horrible daughter I was.”

“You
weren’t horrible,” Gertie said. “You were a little girl. And you were mad your
mommy left you.”

Gertie
wiped the back of her hand over her wet face.

I could
tell Ida Belle was fighting not to cry as well. She and I were so much alike.
Unlike Gertie, who let everything hang out. Sometimes I wished I were more
Gertie and less Ida Belle.

“You know
your mom would never hold it against you,” Ida Belle said, her cracking voice
betraying her emotion.

I nodded.
“I know.”

“I bet
she’s with you a lot,” Gertie said. “In spirit.”

“I do
sometimes feel her around.” I felt another tear slide down my cheek.

“I know
when I go, I’ll come around from time to time,” Gertie said.

“You
promise?”

“Sure we
will,” Ida Belle said. “You think we’re the types to be sitting around playing
our harps all day long?”

I laughed.
“No, somehow I can’t picture it.”

Gertie
grinned. “Of course, there may be times I’ll want to go haunt someone, just
because I’m ornery.”

Ida Belle
nodded. “That goes without saying.”

“Celia,”
Gertie said. “If I go before her, I’d like to haunt Celia.”

“Why wait till
you’re dead?” Ida Belle asked. “We could break into her house at night and make
her think it’s haunted.”

I loved
where this was going. “I could mess with her electrical wiring to cause her
lights to blink off and on.”

“Then it’s
a date!” Gertie said, slicing her fork through her cake and taking a bite.

“What’s a
date?”

I glanced
around and saw Carter making his way toward us.

“Oh, nothing,”
Gertie mumbled, her mouth full of cake.

“I hope it’s
nothing illegal.”

I shrugged.
“Us? Do something illegal?”

“Did Jo-Jo
confess to everything?” Ida Belle asked.

Carter
nodded. “Which means we can release your casket now, Gertie. We brought it up
from the swamp. Aside from mud damage and a six-inch hole in the bottom of it,
it’s not it bad shape. Deputy Breaux’s ready to haul it over to your house if
you want.”

Ida Belle
pulled herself up from her chaise. “Come on, I’ll help you hose it off.”

She
extended a hand to Gertie and helped her up.

“Thanks for
the chat,” I said.

“Any time.”
Ida Belle winked at me and she and Gertie trudged through the yard and around
the house.

I pointed
to the cake, which by now had been whittled into half a cake. “Have a piece.
It’s what Celia’s birthday cake would have tasted like if it hadn’t blown up.”

“Don’t mind
if I do.” He took out a paper plate from a package of plates sitting on the
table and, using the knife sitting next to the cake, cut off a slice and dumped
it on his plate.

I held my
fork up. “You can share mine.”

He slid one
of the chaise lounges over until it lined up right next to mine and sat. I
handed him the fork and he took a bite then smiled. He was in cake heaven.

“This is
one of Ally’s best.”

“Yeah, too
bad Celia didn’t get a chance to taste it.”

“And they
say crime doesn’t pay,” he said. “Because I’d pay to see that look on her face
again.”

“Why,
Deputy LeBlanc, I never thought I’d hear you say a kind word about something
illegal.”

Our eyes
met.

“I’m sorry
I lied to you.”

“I’m sorry
I acted so harsh to you.”

Our words
came out simultaneously and we stopped, and then laughed.

I sat up
and turned toward him. “Okay, I admit it. I was dressed as Cookie. But just
because I knew nobody at the bar would talk in front of you. Hell, I knew they
wouldn’t talk in front of me. That’s why I spent two hours getting made up to
look like her.”

He pointed
his finger at me. “And do you admit to stealing her wheelchair?”

“Was that
hers? Because I saw this empty wheelchair rolling down the street and just
assumed God answered my prayers and sent it to me.” I looked upward to the
heavens. “You coulda told me it was stolen.”

“They’re
not pressing charges, so technically no crime occurred.” He forked another
piece of cake.

“So it all
worked out,” I said.

He held the
fork out to me. I wasn’t used to a guy feeding me cake, but what the heck, I
had gotten used to so much since I came to Sinful, having a hot guy feeding me
cake was probably the least weird. I opened my mouth and he slipped the cake inside
my mouth and slowly slid out the fork.

Not weird
at all. In fact, I kinda liked it.

“But what
if it hadn’t?” he said, pursing his lips. “I know I can sound harsh at times,
but… it’s just… I care about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt and I don’t
want to arrest you. I appreciate you want to help me catch the bad buys, but
you have to stop doing this.”

“I will.”

He shook
his head. “No you won’t.”

I took the
fork from his hand, cut off a bite of cake, and held it out to him. He smiled
as I slipped the cake in his mouth. He savored it.

“Oh, I saw
a video of your eulogy,” he said after swallowing.

“What there
was of it. I’d just said a few words when Gertie told me about the bomb.”

“Yeah, but
what you said was sweet. About not wanting to see her go.” He took another bite
of cake and leaned back on his chaise. “I know exactly how you feel.”

I leaned
back as well. He set his cake plate on his chest and reached his hand over to
me. I set my plate of cake on the grass and took his hand in mine, enjoying his
touch as well as the warm breeze brushing over my body.

Something
compelled me to look over to my left at a cypress tree along the banks of the
bayou. It could have been the warm breeze, or maybe the beer. Or maybe
something else entirely. But I saw her. Her beautiful young face beaming at me.
And I heard something.

“That one’s
a keeper.”

It was her
voice. My mom’s. A voice I heard from time to time when I least expected it.

She taught
me how to fish before I even started school. And when I’d catch something worth
taking home, she’d always say, “That one’s a keeper.”

I kept my
gaze on her image until she winked at me and was gone, and all that was left
was the Spanish moss blowing in the wind.

“Did I ever
tell you about my mom?” I asked.

“No. But I
bet she was a beautiful lady.”

“She was,”
I said. “Hey, wanna go fishing?”

He
shrugged. “Why not?”

I stood and
held my hand down to help him up. “Who knows, maybe we’ll find a few keepers.”

     THE
END