Gator Bait (7 page)

“Do you have any idea what happened?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think we’re going to know for sure until Carter wakes up.”

Ally dropped her spoon in her bowl and it clanged on the side of the dish. “What is going on in this town? It used to be so mundane and uninteresting and…safe. I don’t understand.”

I lowered my spoon. “Are you worried about moving back into your house alone?”

Her eyes widened a bit and she opened her mouth, then closed it. After a couple of seconds of silence, she finally sighed. “I guess I am. I’m fine when I’m there looking at the repair progress. It’s really all going to be quite lovely and my new kitchen is going to be fabulous—practically gourmet. But then I start thinking about being there after dark, and this knot forms in my stomach.”

“I wish I had answers for you,” I said. “I don’t know what’s happening here. It seems like an awful lot of issues for such a small place, but maybe when the first thing happened, the rest just fell in line. Like dominoes.”

“More like a loose thread on a knitted blanket. Before you know it, the entire thing is unraveling.”

I frowned.
Unraveling
was a particularly accurate description of what seemed to be happening in Sinful. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt that my arrival seemed to have set it all in motion. If Bones hadn’t dug up part of Marie’s missing husband, maybe none of this would have happened.

“Don’t even go there,” Ally said, pointing her finger at me.

“What?”

“You were thinking it’s all your fault because it started with that bone, but that’s not true. You just happened to be there. You didn’t cause any of it.”

“Yeah, I guess not.”

“The pot roast should be ready. Do you want more soup?”

“No. Now that I’m not starving, I think I’ll take a quick shower before the roast.”

“Good idea.”

I rose from the table and headed upstairs, my aching body protesting with every step. When I entered my bedroom, I walked over to the window and opened the blinds, looking out across the neighborhood. Pretty houses with beautiful landscaping all in neat little rows. It didn’t look at all like the place where someone would shoot a deputy and leave him to drown.

What the hell was going on in Sinful?

###

It wasn’t even 7:00 a.m. when I heard banging on my front door. I kicked my legs over the side of the bed, groaning as every muscle in my body protested. The banging started up again, making my head pound, so I headed downstairs as quickly as my thighs allowed me to go. I’d barely gotten the front door unlocked before Ida Belle and Gertie pushed the door open and rushed inside.

“We got trouble,” Ida Belle said.

I felt my back tighten. “Did something happen to Carter?”

“No, he’s fine,” Gertie said. “Physically, anyway. He’s awake, but someone else got to him first.”

“What do you mean?” Maybe it was the early hour, or my pounding head, but I hoped someone got to the point soon.

“Feds,” Ida Belle said. “Emmaline stayed at the hospital last night. She said two men in dark suits showed up in the middle of the night, demanding to see Carter. She told them in no uncertain terms that the first person to see Carter this morning would be his doctor and the next was her.”
 

“What agency are they with?”

Ida Belle shook her head. “They didn’t offer any ID, but I know the type—black suits, tight butts, sunglasses indoors. Emmaline said they backed down after she came at them, but they returned at five a.m. She caught them trying to sneak down the hall to Carter’s room and sent them packing again.”

“It doesn’t make sense to me,” Gertie said. “Why would Feds care about a small-town deputy getting shot?”

“They wouldn’t,” I said, “unless they think he stepped in the middle of something big and that’s what got him shot.”

Ida Belle and Gertie glanced at each other, their concern apparent. “That’s what I figured,” Ida Belle said. “But I was hoping you had a different idea.”

“I’m afraid not,” I said. “If they’re interested in Carter, then that means they think the shooting had something to do with their case. All Feds care about is their case. And they’re highly protective of any other law enforcement creeping in. They pretty much think anyone who isn’t a Fed is an idiot. Add small town to that, and it’s even worse.”

“Which means they’ll be barking orders and keeping everything to themselves,” Ida Belle said. “I don’t like it. Their goals will have nothing to do with catching whoever shot Carter—at least, not for shooting Carter.”

“No. They will think whatever they’re working on is far more important than one small-town deputy.”

“They’re wrong,” Gertie said. “And they suck.”

Ida Belle raised an eyebrow.

“Just sayin’,” Gertie grumbled.

Ida Belle put her hands on her hips. “We’ve worked our way around Feds before. We can do it again.”

“True,” I said, but we’d gotten lucky the last time. The Feds hadn’t really locked onto the three of us as suspects, so they’d never had any reason to run my background. But with Carter being shot, and us being…close…or whatever, they might take a harder look. I figured my fake identity was good enough for regular law enforcement scrutiny, but I wasn’t so sure it would hold up to a federal check.

“I have to be really careful with this one,” I said.

Ida Belle’s eyes widened. “Crap! I hadn’t even thought about that. We’ll play it cool—the concerned friends and new girlfriend. Play the cute ditzy blonde and they won’t take a second look at you.”

“Ditzy?” I shook my head. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I barely manage capable librarian. Ditzy is so far out of my element it’s not even in this universe.” I sighed. “But if it means finding out who tried to kill Carter, then I guess I’ll manage.”

Gertie smiled. “That’s the spirit. Now, get upstairs and put on something girlie—I’m thinking the yellow sundress. And put your hair in a ponytail. It makes you look younger, which means less experience and knowledge.”

“And be fast about it,” Ida Belle said. “We’ve got to get to the hospital. Emmaline can’t keep the Feds away from Carter forever. We need to talk to him first.”

“I’ll fix us some breakfast for the road,” Gertie said, and headed for the kitchen.
 

I dashed upstairs and made a quick change into my girl persona, even slipping bright pink lip gloss into my purse to don after breakfast. I’d thought the color horrid when Gertie selected it, but it was perfect for what I needed to do. I gave myself a final look in the full-length mirror and hurried downstairs, saying a quick prayer as I went.
 

We were going to need all the help we could get.

###

Emmaline jumped up from her chair when we entered the hospital waiting room and gave Ida Belle a hug.
 

“They’re sitting in the corner by the plant,” she whispered.
 

I appreciated the effort, but didn’t need her to point them out. In a rural area hospital, black suits and sunglasses looked completely out of place. Clearly, they’d been watching too many movies.
 

Two of them. First one six feet even, 185 pounds. Second one six feet two, 200 pounds. Needed to lose a few pounds, but both in decent shape. Bummer.

Emmaline gave Gertie and me quick hugs, then motioned us to the side. “The nurse said Dr. Stewart is in with Carter now. I’m praying we get to see him.”

“Is he awake?” I asked.

Emmaline nodded. “The nurse said he was awake for fairly long spurts during the night. I slipped back there once to take a peek, but he was sleeping then. I didn’t want to wake him.”

“Of course not,” Ida Belle said. “He needs his rest, and besides, Dr. Stewart will let you see Carter before he turns a couple of Feds loose on him.”

“Do you think so?” Emmaline asked.

“Definitely,” Gertie said. “Otherwise, he’d be giving up his official Southerner card.”

The waiting room door opened and Dr. Stewart stepped into the room. The two Feds jumped up from their chairs and flashed their badges at him. I hurried over to see the badge, but they closed their wallets quickly and shoved them back in their pockets.

“We need to speak to Mr. LeBlanc immediately,” the first Fed said.

Dr. Stewart glanced over at Emmaline, then looked back at the Feds. “He’s my patient. I’ll say who speaks to him and who doesn’t. He’s asking for his family and friends.”

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation,” the second Fed argued.

“And I don’t think you understand Southern hierarchy. Mothers are always first. Anything else could get you shot.” He winked at Emmaline and waved us toward the door.
 

“He’s still weak,” Dr. Stewart said as we walked down the hallway, “but doing quite well given his condition. There is still a good bit of swelling, but it’s decreased significantly since yesterday. I don’t anticipate any long-term effects. I’d like to keep him another day for some additional tests and observation. If he’s raising too much hell and the swelling is gone, I might be convinced to release him tonight, but only if he has someone staying with him.”

“I think you can pretty much count on the raising hell part,” I said.

Emmaline smiled. “You know my son well.” She looked at Dr. Stewart. “Once you release him, he’ll insist on going to his own house, but I’ll insist on staying there for as long as you think I should.”

We stopped in front of a door and Dr. Stewart turned to face us. “He got banged around quite a bit, so his appearance will be somewhat distressing. But I assure you, the surface injuries are just that and will fade quickly.”

Emmaline took a deep breath and pushed the door open, Ida Belle close behind as she entered the room. I hesitated and grabbed Dr. Stewart’s sleeve as he started to walk away.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “but those men in the lobby. Who were they?”

Dr. Stewart shrugged. “I didn’t bother to look at their ID, but Feds, if I had to guess. I’m certain the government issues them all the same suits and superior attitude.”

“Oh,” I said, working up my best surprised look. “What in the world could they want with Carter?”

“No telling,” Dr. Stewart said, “but don’t worry. I’ll have my nurse keep them from barging in for as long as she can.” He gave Gertie and me a nod and headed down the hallway for the front desk—probably to instruct the nurse to stall the Feds. He looked almost happy at the prospect.

“I’ve decided I like Dr. Stewart,” I said.

“Me too. And I have an idea.”

Uh-oh. Gertie’s ideas never worked out the way she thought they would.

She pointed to the door across from Carter’s room with “Cleaning Supplies” stenciled on the front. “I’m going to grab some supplies and head to the lobby. If the nurse aggravates the Feds enough, they may let slip why they’re here.”

I stared at her, fairly certain that this time she really had lost her mind. “That will never work. They just saw you with the rest of us in the waiting room.”
 

She waved a hand in dismissal. “Please. Young people never pay attention to seniors. They glance long enough to classify us as ‘old’ and move on.”

“Normal people, maybe, but regardless of agency, they wouldn’t be in the field unless they were investigators.”

“
Government
investigators. They’re wearing sunglasses inside. How much of me could they have possibly zeroed in on in the half second they looked my direction? Besides, I’ll put on a disguise.”

Before I could protest, she slipped into the supply room. I looked back at Carter’s room and Ida Belle poked her head out. “What the hell’s the holdup?” she asked.

“I don’t think you want to know.”

“Well, hurry up.” She ducked back into the room, leaving the door open a crack.
 

I reached for the handle and as I started to pull it open, the supply room door opened and Gertie came out. I froze and did a double take.

Her rose-print dress was gone and now she was clad in green scrubs, complete with the plastic booties that medical staff wore over their feet for surgery. She had a purple bandanna wrapped around her head and her silver hair stuck out the sides, making her look like a geriatric chicken.

“What’s with the booties?” I asked.

“I can’t exactly wear my red pumps. Oh! I almost forgot.” She reached back into the room and stuck a hand in her purse. Then she pulled out a pair of black glasses with the thickest lenses I’d ever seen in my life and slipped them on.

“You got new glasses! Why don’t you wear them?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t need new glasses? I only got these for undercover work.”

“Yeah, right.”

She glared at me and I held in a smile. It was like looking at an owl, really close up. She reached into the room once more and pulled out a rolling bucket and mop. Gertie plus a rolling bucket of water brought all kinds of possibilities to mind, and none of them good. “Do you think…”

“What?”

“Never mind. Just be careful, and don’t be obvious.”