by riley blake
“I’ve never met a challenge I couldn’t handle.”
About that time an alligator popped his head above the water’s surface. I gasped, ducked, and cursed under my breath as Carter’s laughter resonated in my ears.
“I can see that,” Carter said, jabbing a pointed finger at a fishing shack straight ahead. “We’re almost there.”
“Carter,” I whispered. “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing here?”
“You’ll see,” he replied, pulling dockside.
A few minutes later, we were on shore. He gripped my hand, which I found greatly disturbing and comforting at the same time, and off we went. He pulled me alongside him as we tiptoed through the swamplands and ended up with our backs against the exterior of someone’s bayou hideaway.
“Carter?”
“Just a minute,” he said, peering around the side of the shack.
“You can let go of my hand now,” I whispered.
He jerked, shot me a sideways glance, and then released me. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Shoot. Now what had I invited? Shaking off the limited romance in the air, I paid close attention to the mix of voices and laughter.
“You should’ve seen the look on LeBlanc’s face. When Peanut accused him of killing Rich, that dumb deputy didn’t know what had hit him!”
More chuckles and snorts followed. The “dumb deputy” in question went rigid beside me.
“Don’t worry about them,” I said. “You’ll have the last laugh.”
“There for a minute, I was afraid we’d have to wait for a better opportunity to take Rich out. Gertie Hebert showed up with someone we didn’t recognize. I was about to call the hit off when Lorenzo jumped in front of the gals and provided enough of a distraction.”
“Now do you see why Gertie and Ida Belle are problems?” Carter asked. “One or both of them are always smack dab in the middle of an investigation bound to go wrong. Even the criminals know them by name.”
“This time it was a coincidence.” I didn’t point out that the criminals seemed to fear Gertie and Ida Belle, a fact he could’ve used to his advantage.
Carter pressed his forefinger to his lips, squatted down, and peered around the side of the house. I held my breath. The laughter and conversation on the other side of the wall suggested we were outnumbered by at least two or more.
“So where is Peanut tonight?”
Someone said, “She’s probably with Lorenzo. He doesn’t want her out of his sight.”
“Don’t blame him there,” another man said. “No one trusts her. She’s dangerous.”
They were acting as if Peanut had pulled the trigger herself, but that was impossible. Carter had been standing right there. He would’ve seen the weapon. The close-range blast should’ve been enough to serve up the shooter on a silver platter.
No, Peanut wasn’t our girl.
“Come on,” Carter said, grabbing my hand and taking off through the swamp like the hounds of hell were on our heels.
We ran back to the boat and I stepped into the role of lookout as Carter pushed us off. By that time, someone was on the porch screaming, “Anyone there?”
Resisting the temptation to taunt a few criminals, I took the wheel on the chance that we had to make a quick escape. I’d been on a boat enough now that I was pretty convinced I could handle one.
“Let’s move,” Carter said, bumping me with his hip.
A lightweight and a klutz, I tilted sideways and almost went overboard but Carter wrapped his muscular arm around my waist and hauled me to safety. “Sit.”
“Should I wag my tail and beg for a treat now or later?”
“You’re something else. You know that?”
Truer words were never spoken. In Sinful, nothing and no one were ever as they seemed…including me.
Chapter Six
“Speak of the devil.”
“Or traitor,” Ida Belle suggested, never turning around.
Gertie’s hair was standing straight up. The breakfast tray in front of her suggested that she hadn’t been awake long. Removing the lid on her coffee, she inhaled the fumes and focused on Ida Belle. “Now you know how it feels to be left behind.”
“Ida Belle, I can explain.”
“Walter did that already. Thank you very much.”
“I can’t wait to hear Walter’s version,” I said, believing I could make it up to Ida Belle but not quite sure where to start.
“Walter says a lot of things,” Ida Belle snapped.
“None of which Ida Belle will share with you now, Fortune,” Gertie added, wrinkling her nose as she peered at her breakfast.
“The too-yellow eggs should be your first clue,” Ida Belle said. “Want me to run over to Francine’s and grab us something edible?”
“And leave me with the traitor?” Gertie rapidly shook her head. “She might get my nurse to shoot my IV full of morphine.” She glared at Ida Belle. “Paybacks are a bitch and best friends can be.”
Ida Belle sneered. “I was looking out for you.”
“Let me worry about me…and Fortune.”
Ida Belle huffed. “That’ll be the day. We don’t know the half of what she does.”
“Are you planning to pout all day or is there any chance you might let bygones be bygones so we can discuss the case?”
“I can if you can,” Ida Belle said, grinning at Gertie as if she’d planned to play that card all along.
Gertie stuck out her hand. Ida Belle shook it. Together, they chanted, “Deal.”
“All right, Fortune. Let’s hear it,” Ida Belle said, the urgency of the situation apparently driving her to keep the peace.
“Carter took me to a shack last night.”
“How was he?” Gertie asked, never cracking a smile.
“He was fine,” I bit out, understanding her layered meaning. “We would’ve staked the place out but we were outnumbered.”
“Serves you right,” Ida Belle said.
“What about bygones?” Gertie asked, nodding at me. “Continue, Fortune.”
I hurriedly explained everything that had happened. Wrapping it up, I said, “So this Lorenzo was a player. He jumped in front of us at Rich’s and Peanut’s which suggests that our shooter was somewhere between us and the troublesome couple’s front porch.”
“Or the shots came from inside?” Ida Belle suggested.
“Not possible,” Gertie informed her, taking a bite of her biscuit and holding her jaw. “I may take you up on a bagel. Baked rocks are tough on these gums.”
“Drop your fangs and you’ll manage,” Ida Belle said, her offer to fetch breakfast now a thing of the past.
“Peanut must’ve shot him.”
“How?” Gertie asked, tossing the biscuit and jumping when it landed in the metal wastebasket with a thud. “Carter would’ve seen the smoking gun.”
“Carter should’ve seen the smoking gun, but it doesn’t mean he did. We are talking about Deputy Carter LeBlanc here.” Only, as I pointed out the obvious, I wasn’t buying the fact. Something about the whole situation didn’t add up.
Ida Belle stood. “Come on, Fortune.”
“Where are you going?” Gertie looked outright helpless.
“I smell a rat and I’m going to find him,” Ida Belle said.
“Are you talking about Carter?” Gertie asked.
“None other.” Ida Belle turned to me. “We’re going to the crime scene. If my suspicions are right, Deputy LeBlanc will have some explaining to do.”
****
“Everything happens for a reason, Fortune,” Ida Belle said, ducking under the yellow crime scene tape.
“I know that’s a fact.” I stood back and took a deep breath, thinking of the circumstances that had led me to this very place. My reason had been a pair of stilettos. Thanks to those shoes, I was still among the living. Compliments of that particular footwear, a criminal with a dangerous past was no longer able to claim the same. “I’m in Sinful today because everything
happens for a reason.”
“For all we know that particular reason could be right here,” Ida Belle said, glancing around the porch. “You take the high road. I’ll take the low.”
Ida Belle and I had worked together on similar cases. It was strange to think of our investigations as such, but we worked well as a team. A good five inches taller than Ida Belle, I stood on my tiptoes and checked the usual places above windows and doors while she tousled furniture and searched potted plants and doormats.
“Nothing,” I said, brushing the dust off my hands.
Ida Belle flashed a brass key and a smile. “Let’s go.”
A minute later, we split up and checked the house for clues. We searched the place for close to an hour, raking over every inch of the place.
“Nothing jumps out at me,” I said, thinking there was a reason why I preferred the title CIA assassin to investigator. I didn’t have the patience for the tedious task of going through someone else’s things in hopes of finding a shred of evidence. In my line of work, I was able to get in, get out, and chalk up another job as completed.
Here in Sinful, things weren’t that simple.
“We’re missing something,” Ida Belle said, narrowing her eyes on the open door and walking out to the porch once more.
“Ida Belle,” I snapped. “Someone might see you.”
She put her hands on her hips and straightened her back. “They’re out there watching us, Fortune. Never doubt that.” She slowly turned around as if she’d had a thought. “Where were you and Gertie standing again?”
I pointed. “Over there next to the stop sign.”
“And where was Carter?”
“Here.” I stepped over the chalk outline and indicated Carter’s position. “And Peanut was standing where you are now.”
“Point-blank range.”
“It couldn’t have been.”
“Did you see the body?” Ida Belle asked.
“No. We were held for questioning. The medical examiner and his team hauled Rich out of here before I had a chance to see him.”
“They wouldn’t have let you get close to this porch anyway. You’re an outsider.”
“And I guess you would’ve been invited to take a look around and weigh in with an opinion?”
Ida Belle smirked. “You’re learning, Fortune.” She frowned at the drawing and narrowed her eyes on a pool of dried blood. “But you’re not too good with forensics.” Before I could comment, she added, “He could’ve easily been shot at point-blank range.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve seen my share of crime scenes, Fortune. This much of a blood splatter suggests Rich saw his killer. Now we have to ask ourselves this: Was anyone else on this porch?”
“I was right over there,” I reminded her, indicating the stop sign again. “The man now known as Lorenzo jumped in front of us so it is possible that someone else could’ve darted across the porch, pumped a few rounds in Rich’s body, and rolled to the ground before anyone saw him.”
“But?”
“It didn’t happen,” I said, certain of the fact.
“So we’re back to three. One ended up dead so we have two suspects—Carter and Peanut.”
“My money is on Peanut,” I said. “She had motive.”
“I don’t see where bandaging a relative’s knee is motive enough to kill someone.”
“Apparently he ran around some.”
Ida Belle grinned. “You’re starting to sound like a Southerner.” She laughed. “Just call him like you see him. He was a cheater.”
“Okay. Rich supposedly cheated on Peanut.”
“Supposedly?” Ida Belle cocked her head. “Honey, those two dropped their drawers so much, everyone in town knew what color and brand of underwear they wore.” She walked back inside, pacing from one side of the small living room to the other. “If these walls could talk.”
“The first thing they would ask is, ‘What are you doing here?’ It would go downhill from there.”
Ida Belle jumped. For once, I didn’t.
“Deputy Carter LeBlanc in the flesh,” I muttered, thinking he probably shouldn’t be there.
“Let’s try this again. Why are you here?”
“I could ask you the same,” Ida Belle said. “You’re a suspect, Carter. Get out of here and leave the real detective work to the one who is watching out for you.”
Carter stared down the gentle slope of his nose and said, “Ida Belle, you’re trespassing.”
“And you aren’t?”
“I’m a deputy. I’m investigating.”
“A murder that some think you committed,” she reminded him.
“All right, ladies. I don’t have time for this. Out with it. What are you doing here?”
I looked at Ida Belle and she shrugged. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Want me to guess?” He grinned at me and I braced for it. “The town newcomer wanted to raid Peanut’s closet.”
“You keep thinking that.” A beat later, I added, “Is that the best you can do?”
He looked all male then when his eyes flashed with something more than mischief. “I could do better but we’re in the presence of company.”
“Don’t mind me,” Ida Belle said, sounding like Gertie then. “Give it your best shot.”
“Consider this a free pass.” He then turned to Ida Belle and said, “You’d better have a good explanation for being here. Sheriff Lee is on his way over to conduct a more thorough investigation.”
Carter wanted answers and Ida Belle wasn’t giving them up. All things considered, the good deputy had a better chance of joining the Sinful Ladies Society and bumping Ida Belle off her coveted leadership post.
“Ida Belle? What do you have to say for yourself?”
She blinked and her face lit up with one of her notorious ah-ha moments. “Carter, I’m going to ask you this one time.” She hesitated before she continued. “Did you see Peanut shoot and kill Rich?”
“No.”
“All right then.” She turned to me. “Let’s go. As of this very moment, Deputy Carter LeBlanc can’t be trusted.”
Chapter Seven
“He knows Peanut is the killer.”
“How do you know?” I followed Ida Belle inside my temporary residence. She grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and opened the back door. “Go on, Bones. Get out of here for a minute.”
“Thank you.” I accepted the generous gift of hydration and followed her yet again, this time to the back patio.
Once there, we each chose a chair. “So why would Carter take me out to the bayou if he already knew who was guilty?”
“According to Walter, he used this situation to his advantage. He didn’t need you. He took you along and probably considered the excursion as a first date.”
“He needed me.”
“If you say so,” Ida Belle said. “He has his shooter—Peanut. Now he wants the men who put her up to it.”
“What if there isn’t anyone?”
“You heard enough last night to know that there’s someone.”
“True, but I think Peanut would’ve killed Rich just because.”
“Just because?” Ida Belle balked at that. “Fortune, you don’t know anything at all about marriage. A woman or a man can cheat all day but let their other half do the same and it’s a recipe for murder, only in this case? It wasn’t. Those two have been die-hard cheaters since their first date and it never bothered either one of them.”
“If I wanted you dead, you’d be sixteen feet under with a hundred pounds of cement drying on top of your sorry, cheating, stubborn, dead-beat of a well proportioned tail!”
“What?” Ida Belle was clearly dumbfounded.
“That’s what Peanut said when she followed Rich to the yard. I think it was a masked threat. It didn’t mean anything to the audience but Rich seemed to know exactly what she was talking about.”
“You’re sure about the concrete?”
“Verbatim
.”
“Well why didn’t you say so?” Ida Bella arched a brow. “Now I know where we can find our co-conspirators or at least a few clues to lead us to them.”
An hour later, we stood in the middle of a burial ground with shovels in hand. After raiding Marge’s shed for tools, we’d headed out of town. Minutes later, we landed on the earthly version of hell. Staring up at the trashed cars and totaled trucks, I was certain of my fate.
My body would later be found in a junkyard.
“I don’t know which is more disturbing.” I stared at the ground. “The fact that we’re about to dig up dead bodies or the fact that these people weren’t buried in a cemetery and you and Gertie knew it all along.”
“We don’t know anything for sure, Fortune. Gertie never had the stomach for this or we would’ve been digging out here a long time ago. You seemed eager to get to the bottom of this and this place harbors many secrets.”
“I wouldn’t use eager exactly,” I said, propping up a shovel against Ida Belle’s car while I slipped on a pair of work gloves.
Director Morrow’s voice of reason provoked me to ask, “Isn’t this illegal?” Before she could answer, I added, “Normal rules and laws don’t typically apply to you and Gertie, but aren’t there a few exceptions?”
“If we were digging up marked graves in a cemetery, we might have a problem. For now, we’re following a lead before alarming anyone. I’ve heard rumors about this place for years. No one else was willing to dig for the truth.”
“Wonder why?” I slowly rotated to my right in a clockwise fashion taking in our surroundings again. Tipsy Tailgates was a junkyard that likely earned its name due to the way they stacked the cars at a slanted angle. “Aren’t you afraid the scrap metal will fall like dominoes once we start moving dirt around?”
Ida Belle glanced up. “If I go out this way, it’s meant to be. I’ve lived a long and enjoyable life and I’m willing to go when it’s my time.”
“I’m sure the man upstairs appreciates your compliance.” I wasn’t as optimistic about facing death.
“Don’t worry, Fortune. I have a good eye for this stuff. That’s why I parked over there.” She nodded at her prized possession. “Stay on this side of the car and we’ll be just fine.”