Swamp Sniper (14 page)

“Well, shit.”

I nodded. “The other bedrooms were empty, so I guess we move downstairs.”

I could tell by Gertie’s expression that she was disappointed, and so was I. This entire escapade had been risky and was headed straight toward being a total bust. I had just reached the top of the stairs when I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket.
 

Alarmed, I yanked it out, hoping the message was from anyone but Marie.

Two people just went through fence gate. Too dark to see who.

“Marie saw two people go through the fence gate,” I said.

Gertie’s eyes widened. “Paulette and her cousin would use the front door.”

“I know. And it’s a little late for lawn work.”

“You locked the patio door behind us, right?”

As I nodded, I heard glass breaking downstairs. “I don’t think it mattered,” I whispered. “We have to hide.”

“Where?”

A damned good question. The two empty bedrooms didn’t provide anything in the way of cover and the other two bedrooms and baths were being used. Unless the others were breaking in to steal televisions, no doubt they’d be upstairs to search the bedrooms.

“This way,” I said and hurried into one of the empty rooms. Maybe we’d luck out and find an exterior window with a nearby tree. We dashed into the bedroom, closing the door behind us. I made a quick check of the windows, but unless we wanted to make a twenty-foot drop straight onto a concrete patio, they weren’t a viable option. I could have made the drop, but no way would Gertie and her ancient bones be able to come out of it walking.

I heard footsteps on the stairs and grabbed Gertie’s arm and pulled her toward the closet. I was surprised to find it much larger than I’d expected, until Gertie turned on her cell phone flashlight and pointed to the back wall. In the dim light, I saw a doorknob, so I eased it open and found a narrow staircase.

Gertie peered around me and pointed up, indicating it was the staircase to the attic. I didn’t like the idea of moving us another floor higher from the ground, but we couldn’t exactly be picky. With any luck, the other guys would get whatever they were after and exit without checking the closet. And hopefully, leaving Gertie and me enough time to get out before Paulette and her cousin returned home.

As we crept up the narrow staircase, I said a silent prayer that nothing creaked. Old houses made noise, but people who broke into old houses tended to investigate noise, regardless. We made it up the stairs without incident and I pulled a penlight out of my pocket as we stepped into the attic so that we could get our bearings. The last thing we needed was to trip over something.

The attic was practically barren except for a makeshift desk in front of a dormer window. Unable to control my curiosity, I inched over to the desk to see if it contained anything of interest, Gertie close behind. When we reached the desk, I froze at the sound of two men speaking. I whirled around, looking behind us, but no one was standing there, nor did it sound like anyone was accessing the stairs. Gertie tugged on my sleeve and pointed to a grille near the floor and I nodded. The voices were coming up through the ventilation system from the second floor.

I motioned to the floor and eased myself down until I knelt in front of the vent. Maybe if we could overhear their conversation, we’d know who was in the house and why. Gertie inched down beside me until we both crouched there, silent and waiting for the voices to start up again.

“Those pictures have got to be here somewhere,” a man said.

We heard the sound of drawers banging and glass breaking, then another man said, “What if he has them on one of those smarty phones or something?”

“He showed us prints, remember? And even if they’re on one of them phones, the phone should be here unless they’re planning on burying him with it.”

“I hope they don’t do that. I really hate digging up graves.”

I looked over at Gertie, whose eyes widened. What the hell kind of people made digging up graves a regular habit?

“If we don’t find those pictures,” the first man said, “the only graves we’re going to be digging is our own.”

“Maybe the bitch has them. Maybe she’s going to start cashing in.”

“I can handle the bitch.”

“How’s that?”

“Same way someone handled Ted, which is what we should have done a long time ago. Check in the bathroom. I’m going to take a look in those empty rooms, then we’ll blow this joint.”

My cell phone buzzed again and I felt my heart drop when I read the text.

Paulette and cousin pulling into drive.

Crappity, crap, crap, crap!

I showed Gertie the text and the color rushed out of her face. I was just thinking things couldn’t get much worse when the universe proved me infinitely wrong.
 

“That bitch is pulling up out front!” the second man yelled.

I heard scuffling in the room below us and jumped up, scanning the room for a potential hiding place.
 

“There’s a staircase in this closet,” the first man yelled. “Get in here!”

No time left and no hiding place in sight, I jumped on top of the makeshift desk and opened the dormer window. The slope of the roof wasn’t as drastic as it extended away from the window, so I figured even Gertie would be able to manage it. How we were going to get down was a whole other story and one I didn’t even want to think about.

I waved at the window and gave Gertie huge props for climbing up on the desk and out the window without even a moment’s hesitation. As I stepped outside to follow her, a small wooden box on the corner of the desk caught my eye. I grabbed the box before stepping onto the roof, then closed the window behind me.

Gertie had scrambled up the roof to the right, and was crouching below some low-hanging tree branches. The branches perked me up a bit. If they were sturdy enough, we’d just found our way down. I shoved the box into my sports bra. It was the most restricting garment I had on besides my jeans and I didn’t figure I’d be using my breasts to shinny down the tree.

“What about those men?” Gertie whispered.

“What about them? I assume they’re hiding in the attic.”

“What if they kill Paulette and her cousin?”

Shit. I’d been so busy trying to escape that I hadn’t even thought about what might happen to Paulette and her cousin with those guys cornered in the attic. I reached up and pulled on the largest branch above us and decided it was strong enough to hold us.
 

“Start down,” I said. “And get back to Marie’s. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“But—”

“Go!” I hissed.

She grabbed hold of the branch and stepped off the side of the roof and into the tree. Now, as long as she didn’t fall on the way down, we were good. I waited until she was halfway down, then pulled out my cell phone and called Marie.
 

“We’re outside of the house and on our way back,” I said as soon as she answered. “The bad guys are in the attic. Call Carter and say you saw two people go through Paulette’s back fence a couple of minutes ago and then she drove up.”

“What—”

“I’ll explain later. Just do it.” I slipped the phone back in my pocket and hoped Marie followed instructions. Now I just had to get Gertie and me out of the tree and back across the road before Carter got there, and hope that the bad guys hadn’t gotten impatient and put a cap in Paulette and her cousin.

I shinnied down the tree with the skill of a panda, passing Gertie on my way. The limbs had been trimmed at the bottom to allow for walking space, so the lowest branch was still a good ten-foot drop. I jumped off of it and rolled as I hit the ground, then turned around to help Gertie.
 

Apparently, Gertie had forgotten her age or she’d decided to channel me because instead of hanging from the lower branch and dropping, as I thought she’d do, she barreled off the branch like I did, except she forgot the rolling part. Instead, she crashed right into me and we both went tumbling onto the lawn.
 

I saw Gertie’s eyes widen as her feet hit the ground and her hands flew up to cover her mouth. I bolted up and grabbed her by the shoulders, hauling her to her feet.
 

“My foot,” she whispered.

I realized she was only standing on one foot and began to panic. The only exit from the backyard was through the gate and if Marie had followed instructions, Carter would be pulling up there any minute. I reached under her arms and lifted her off the ground on the bad foot side, then hurried across the back lawn, half walking, half dragging Gertie.
 

When I got to the gate, I peered outside just as Carter’s truck pulled up to the curb. Panicked, I scooped Gertie up and over my shoulder and went running for the back fence. When I got there, I shoved her up at the top and left her dangling half over and I jumped up and over.
 

“This may hurt,” I whispered as I pulled her over the wooden boards and grabbed hold of her before she crashed into the turf again. Her feet had no sooner hit the ground than I hefted her over my shoulder again and skirted two houses down before running down the side of a house and checking the street.
 

Carter wasn’t in his truck and I couldn’t see him anywhere outside. I’d picked a good spot to cut through because the streetlights were too far apart and left a dark strip that ran directly across the road. I scanned the block one more time, then hauled it across the street as far as I could manage, only slowing when I rounded the backside of the houses on Marie’s block. My shoulders and legs were burning with the strain, so I put Gertie down and went back to the underarm method of walking/dragging until I got her into Marie’s house. Gertie managed to put some weight on her foot, so the going was a little easier.

Marie stifled a scream when we rushed in her back door, then almost passed out from relief when she realized it was us.
 

“What happened?” she asked as she saw Gertie limp to the kitchen table and slump into a chair.

“She fell,” I said, not about to go into the whole roof debacle right now. “Carter is sure to come over here. We need to hide.”

Marie shook her head. “It won’t do any good. He came down the block from the opposite direction of his house. He would have seen your Jeep parked around the corner.”

I looked down at my shirt, covered with grass stains from Gertie’s knees. “If he sees me like this, he’ll know something was up.”

“I’ll go grab you one of my shirts,” Marie said and took off down the hall but before she even got to the stairwell, her doorbell rang.

“Mrs. Chicoron. It’s Deputy LeBlanc.”

Chapter Twelve

Marie ran back into the kitchen and before I could even make a suggestion, she yanked an apron out of a drawer, held it to my waist, and told me to tie it. I was just securing the strings at my back when she put a cartoon of eggs and a bowl on the counter, and poured flour in the bowl.

Certain she’d lost her mind, I reached out to grab her arm and that’s when she hit me with a shot of water from the salad sprayer, then tossed a handful of flour on me. I coughed as the flour went up my nose and wiped my face with my hand, completely stunned and uncertain what action to take next.

“I’m teaching you to bake,” Marie said. “You’re not very good.” She pointed at Gertie. “Stay there where he can’t see that limp or your pants legs.”

Then she ran out of the kitchen like a bat out of hell.

I looked over at Gertie, a little shell-shocked.

Bones, Marie’s ancient bloodhound, lifted his head from his bed in the corner and stared as us both for a couple of seconds before lowering his head and snoring again.

“She’s good,” Gertie said. “How about you bring me a glass of milk and some cookies…make things look more authentic.”

I heard Marie open the front door and grabbed the milk and cookies for Gertie and myself. No sense in Gertie getting all the benefit of the cover-up. It wasn’t like she’d carried me for a block.

I shoved the milk and cookies in front of Gertie and hurried back behind the kitchen counter and grabbed a cookbook from a shelf just as Carter and Marie stepped into the kitchen.

He gave Gertie a suspicious nod, then took one look at me and raised his eyebrows. “Should I even ask?”

“I’m teaching her to bake,” Marie said, “or trying to anyway. It might be more expedient for the rest of us to continue to provide her with baked goods.”

Carter didn’t look even remotely convinced.

I shrugged. “What can I say? I have a skill for eating, but not necessarily for baking. I never knew it was this involved…or this messy.”

“So I’m supposed to believe you have been in here all evening baking?”

“No,” I said. “We’d just gotten started a little before you knocked on the door. Earlier, I was busy eating. You know, getting a taste for my future creations.”

“Uh-huh. How come you parked your Jeep around the corner?”

“There wasn’t any parking in front of Marie’s house when we got here,” Gertie chimed in. “Probably half of Sinful was delivering casseroles to Paulette.”