miss fortune mystery (ff) - hiding in the bayou (4 page)

“Come to think of it, she should’ve been out by now,” Ida Belle said, immediately leaving the room.

“Stop her, Fortune.” Gertie jabbed her finger at the door. “Go on. Help a friend in need.”

“I am.” I glanced over my shoulder, watching Ida Belle as she approached the nurse’s station. After a brief conversation, Ida Belle walked away with a smile.

“What’s going on out there?” Gertie asked, frantic now.

Ida Belle reappeared before I stuttered around an excuse. “Leave it to me. I’ve handled everything. You’ll sleep like a baby.”

“I don’t want to sleep like a baby. There’s a murderer on the loose or did you miss that part?” Gertie shook her finger at the nurse as soon as she entered. “I know what you’re doing.” Her eyes widened as soon as she spotted the syringe. She sat upright and gripped the bedrail. “Don’t do it. I’ll sue you. I’ll
own
this hospital. I’ll…” She collapsed against the bed as soon as the medication was inserted into her IV.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Ida Belle said, patting Gertie’s arm before turning to me. “Come on, Fortune. We have a lot to do.”

“You’re leaving me?” Gertie croaked.

“In another few minutes, you won’t even know we’re gone.”

I felt a little guilty abandoning Gertie but Ida Belle quickly said, “She’d do the same for you, Fortune. If you were laid up in a hospital bed, she’d go out of her way to make sure you stayed there until you were well enough to look after yourself.”

“Maybe you’re right.” I still didn’t feel any better about deserting her. Plus, something told me that a little medication wouldn’t keep a good woman down. I’d guarded dangerous hostages and never once worried about their possible escape, but none of them had shown as much determination as one little white-haired lady.

“She’ll be out by morning.”

Ida Belle shot me a wicked smile. “Under normal circumstances, maybe, but her nurse is an old friend. She’ll keep Gertie sedated for now.”

“Remind me to never land in the hospital during an investigation.”

“I like the way you think,” Ida Belle said, following me to the stairs. “If we solve this crime, we need to consider opening up our own agency. We have all the ingredients for a sound partnership.”

That
was debatable.

“Don’t you think?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

“Ask me on a day when you didn’t break a friend’s leg. With a partner like you, I wouldn’t worry about solving a mystery. I’d be more concerned about how often I’d pull up to the office only to find it surrounded by yellow crime scene tape.”

Chapter Four

For once, I’d outsmarted a shark. The shark in question was probably still stewing in her tank, too.

I had known better than to offer my kitchen up as headquarters for Operation Save Deputy LeBlanc. Instead, after we left the hospital, I’d suggested Ida Belle’s place. By making Ida Belle’s house the designated command center, I was free to leave at any given time and took full advantage of opportunity.

In another ten minutes, I’d curl up with my nine millimeter and settle in for dreams about a killer.

My phone buzzed as soon as I reached the front porch. Apparently Ida Belle had thought of something and would undoubtedly use it to lure me back to base.

“What is it now?”

“All you had to do was show up in small town USA, pretend to be a dead woman’s great niece, settle in and enjoy a simple life, and act like a librarian. Was that so hard, Redding?” Fellow CIA Agent Ben Harrison had apparently received the ping alerting him to the fact that there was another dead body in Sinful.

“Harrison, how lovely of you to call.” I should’ve checked the caller ID.

“What are you doing down there, Redding? Provoking people? What’s wrong with you? Are you just trying to blow your cover? Do you have a death wish? If so then maybe I can help you out.”

“The longer I’m away, the more you sound like Morrow.” Director Morrow had taken me under his wing right after I joined the CIA, but the longer I stayed in Sinful, the more I was starting to think he liked this arrangement.

“Let’s start over. Hey, Redding. How are you today? How’s the weather down there in the bayou? Have you sampled any of the Cajun dishes that made the place legendary?”

“There is a dead man in Sinful’s morgue, Redding.”

“It happens, Harrison.”

“Not in that town.”

“Apparently so,” I said, spotting a white sedan parked across the street from my place. Thanks to tinted windows, I couldn’t tell if the car was empty.

Now I was paranoid. My neighbor across the street often had overnight guests and it wasn’t uncommon to find a couple of vehicles parked on the street. She hosted late night parties and beer pong tournaments. She hadn’t invited me to join in yet. The invitation was probably in the mail.

“I need you to run down some information for me.”

“No,” Harrison said. “You are not working this case.”

Watch me. “Can you please send me everything you can find on Peanut and Rich Richards? Rich is the dead guy. Peanut is his grieving widow.” I thought about the argument I’d witnessed. “Scratch the grieving.”

“Fortune, stay out of this.”

“It’s not like we’re dealing with one of the FSB’s most wanted, Harrison. What’s the big deal?”

A brief silence followed before Harrison said, “You are correct about that.”

“Good. Send what I need and I’ll get back to you with a polite thank you.” I unlocked my front door. A loud truck rumbled in the distance. Carter was supposedly spending the night in jail so I was pretty sure it wasn’t his truck making the racket. “Think you can forward what you find first thing tomorrow morning?”

“Fortune, no. This is worse than you think and probably more dangerous than dealing with the FSB’s most wanted.”

“Doubtful. What could be worse than the FSB’s most wanted or even running from an arms dealer?” Again, I glanced at the white car. The driver’s window slowly slid down. I squinted. No weapon. No masked men.

Good to go.

“Try a group that focuses on criminal activity in the bayou, a group that’s very well known in the South,” Harrison said.

“I don’t follow you,” I said, reaching inside the door and grabbing my weapon. My gut told me not to trust the white car’s occupants unless they hopped out, lugging a keg behind them.

Keeping my back against the house’s siding, I pinned the phone to my ear while crossing one leg over the next, slowly easing my way around the exterior of the house and peering in the windows. The vehicle could’ve been a getaway car. Someone could’ve been waiting inside. “Harrison? Are you still with me?”

“Redneck Mob,” Harrison said. “We’re not sure how they’re involved but Peanut could’ve decided to graze in greener pastures.”

From what I’d seen of Peanut, she didn’t look like she was dressing for better options, much less pursuing them. “Where are these pastures exactly?”

“Everywhere, Redding.”

About that time, the roar of Carter’s massive truck zoomed to life. Shots were fired. Glass shattered.

My pulse picked up speed. Adrenaline followed suit.

“Um….Harrison? Can you hang on a second?” With weapon in hand, I threw my arms forward and ducked behind the shrubs. After a good tumble, I landed midway down the yard, still in control of my nine.

I was still pretty darn good at this.

The white car sped away with Carter racing after him. Horns honked in the distance. Sirens rang out. I sent a quick prayer on Carter’s behalf.

I’d never done that before.

Frustrated, I rose to my feet, brushed off the dirt, and searched for my phone. As soon as I found it, I grimaced.  The call was still live.

“Harrison?”

“And you wonder why I call with a logical complaint. What are you doing down there, Redding? Sinful, Louisiana had one of the lowest crime rates in the country!”

“Something tells me that’s about to change.”

****

“What were you doing standing in your yard at half past midnight?” Carter looked mad enough to punch a bug, which was kind of cute and sexy, and very disturbing that I thought about it in those terms. “Answer me. I didn’t come all this way to check on you just to have you stare back at me with doe-eyes.”

Doe-eyes? How touching. “Who are you and what have you done with Deputy Carter LeBlanc?”

“I’m serious here.”

“So am I.” Thumbing the kitchen behind me, I asked, “Would you like to come in?” I was being polite, and a tad curious, too. I wouldn’t find out the details behind his arrest if I didn’t roll out the welcome mat.

“
Can
I come in?”

“I invited you, didn’t I?” Gertie and Ida Belle would double over with laughter if they could see the two of us about right now. I waved him inside. Then, I stuck my head outside once more, looking up and down the street for more unrecognizable vehicles with too-dark tint. “Can I make a suggestion?”

“At the risk of regretting this later, sure.”

“Start pulling over the vehicles with illegal window tint. Hand the owner a razorblade and tell them to get busy. The world will be a safer place.”

“How many cars have you seen around here with illegal tint?”

He had a point. “For starters, there was one parked across the street earlier tonight. You may remember it. Chipped white paint, wrecked backend on the driver’s side, and a taillight out?” ”

“Why didn’t I think ahead? I should’ve thrown on the lights, asked the driver for his license and registration, and handed him a razorblade.”

“Exactly.”

“So he could slit my throat.”

I scoffed and entered the kitchen. “Coffee, tea, milk, soda, juice, or none of the above.” I threw out the last option hoping he’d view it as a lifeline. If Carter didn’t accept my hospitality, that was a point for the home team. I could pump for information and then send him on his way.

“Nothing for me, thanks,” he said. “Should I be offended? Why aren’t Ida Belle and Gertie here?”

“Why would that offend you?”

“Normally, if an innocent person is in jail, those two call an emergency meeting with the Sinful Ladies Society and vote on how to break them out.”

“We voted. We thought we’d let you sit behind bars so you’d know how it felt to see the inside of a cell.” I forced a smile. “In the future, you’ll think twice before you throw one of us in jail.”

“You’re serious?” He was so gullible sometimes.

I stuck my hands in my pockets. “Not really.” It occurred to me then that he may not have heard the news about Gertie. “You’ve been sort of busy so I understand how the local news could slip by you. Gertie is in the hospital.”

“Yeah, I heard. She was trying to do a stunt and fell on her butt and broke her tailbone.”

“That’s what you heard?”

“One version. I also heard Ida Belle rolled up the window and caught her leg, drug her body about thirty feet, and Gertie is lucky to be alive.”

I gasped.

“That wasn’t the worst one.”

“I don’t want to know.”

Carter shook his head. “No you don’t. It’s morbid.”

“Small towns. Never a dull moment,” I said, holding out my hand and indicating the table.

Carter sat. I followed suit. We stared at one another for a few uncomfortable seconds. He was rugged and handsome, a real looker.

“Okay Carter, what’d ya have?” I couldn’t sit there and stare at him all night. Well, I could, but it wouldn’t help either of us solve a crime.

“Surely you don’t expect me to discuss a case with you.”

“I saw what happened. I was right across the street when Rich was shot.”

“You were.”

“I can help you.”

“No one can help me,” Carter said in an overly sarcastic tone.

“Really? Is that the best you can do?”

He grinned. “What do you want to know?” He shook his finger and quickly added, “But this is off the record.”

“I’m a librarian, not a reporter,” I reminded him. I’d become so used to assuming my cover that I was beginning to believe I could work my way around the Library of Congress.

“Peanut and Rich had a volatile history.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“And he knew she was coming for him.”

“She didn’t kill him. I was looking right at her when the shots were fired.”

Carter cleared his throat. “There are many ways to kill a man without having a finger on the trigger.”

“Look at you. All philosophical tonight.” I didn’t buy a word of this nonsense. “Why Peanut?”

“Murder-for-hire.”

“How do you know?”

“Sources.”