Whatever this was.
“I don’t have to take this abuse,” Gertie blurted out. She elbowed Fortune to let her out of the booth. “I’m old enough to do what I want but still young enough to enjoy life.” With that rather odd pronouncement, she slung her purse up onto her shoulder and took off for the door.
I stood, assuming we were going to follow her, after all, she was the one with the car, but when neither my great-aunt nor Fortune made a move to follow her, I sat back down. We listened as Gertie fired up the Caddy and peeled out onto Main Street as if she were fleeing a heist. I sighed. It looked as if we would be walking home. At least I had sneakers on.
Fortune was the first to break the silence. “You seem to know what this is all about, Ida Belle. Care to enlighten Stephanie and me?”
Aunt Ida Belle blew out a long breath. “The old biddy has finally lost her mind. Gone loco.” She shook her head in disgust. “I saw the signs but I couldn’t believe anyone would be that stupid. Especially not Gertie.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Ida Belle, but I’m completely lost. What exactly has Gertie done?”
“She’s made a fool out of herself, that’s what.”
Now this was a tricky thing to respond to without being offensive because, quite frankly, Gertie has been known to act foolish before. A time or two. Or three. “What exactly is she going to do?”
“I can hardly bear to say it aloud.” Aunt Ida Belle pinched the bridge of her nose. Were those tears in her eyes? I didn’t dare ask, but she was clearly upset. I’d never seen her like this. “She’s fixin’ to run off with the idiot,” she finally said.
“What idiot?” I thought it a fair question considering this was Sinful.
“Bull Dozer,” she nearly spat out his name.
“Run off as in go away for a long weekend?” Fortune asked.
Aunt Ida Belle shook her head. “No. She’s leaving Sinful, and she’s not coming back.”
I gasped. “That can’t be.” When several other diners turned to look in our direction, I realized I’d spoken too loudly.
Fortune frowned. “Something’s not adding up here. Why aren’t you shocked, Ida Belle? Have you and Gertie spoken about this before?”
My great-aunt shook her head. “No. I put together the pieces from overhearing her talk nonsense with the pipsqueak.”
The pipsqueak, I assumed, was Bull Dozer. “What do we know about him?”
Ida Belle snorted. “Nothing fit for repeating.”
“We can get all the info we need,” Fortune said. “It’s the beauty of small town living. Where’s he from originally? Sinful?”
Aunt Ida Belle shook her head. “Mudbug.”
“How did Celia find out about their plans?” I asked.
“Gertie was probably flapping her gums when she went in to City Hall to pay her parking tickets.” Aunt Ida Belle shook her head. “She should have known that Celia gets regular gossip reports from her minions.”
Fortune nodded. “Good, getting information won’t be a problem then.” She turned to me. “This is as good a time as any for you to start helping us, Stephanie. But you’re going to have to do things our way.”
My eyes widened. What did she mean start helping? Hadn't I just sprinted down Main Street this morning as if I were being chased by a Malayan tiger? In the last several weeks, I'd learned that doing things their way meant being involved in shoot outs, wild car chases, meetings with mobsters, and, worst of all, regular run-ins with the newly elected mayor of Sinful.
But there'd also been plenty of laughter and a sense of camaraderie that I'd grown to cherish in a very short time. I wanted to help Gertie any way I could. “You can count on me.”
“Good. We’re going to need you onboard. Gertie’s stubborn to begin with, add that to being under the influence of a man, and it’s not a good combination.”
I studied her. Fortune was a beautiful woman. Her hair was long and blond, her eyes were blue, her figure trim, but something about her story was as phony as her acrylic nails. I'd watched Fortune handle a gun like she was twirling a baton, converse with mobsters as smoothly as if she were talking to pageant judges, and I'd witnessed her take down armed opponents like she was taking off her tiara for the night. If she'd ever been a beauty queen, I'd eat my lace trimmed handkerchief.
But she'd risked her life to save mine, and for that I owed her. If she wanted to pretend to be someone she wasn't, it was fine by me. Besides, we had other things to worry about, like Gertie running off with a man she barely knew.
A funny look flitted over Fortune's face. "Carter's coming. I don’t want him knowing what’s going on."
Seconds later, Carter stopped by our booth. He was out of uniform, dressed in faded jeans and a plain black t-shirt that fit his well-muscled chest rather nicely, I couldn’t help but notice. I glanced in Fortune's direction. Yes, she'd noticed too.
I waited for someone to say something but when no one did, I greeted him. "Hello, Carter.”
“Stephanie,” he nodded. “How was your trip to Hawaii?”
“Blissful,” I replied, although it seemed so much longer than a week since Kase and I had arrived back in Louisiana. “If you haven’t been to the islands yet, I’d highly recommend a visit.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. I hear Mayeux has been called back to New Orleans for a few weeks.”
I nodded. “That’s right. With any luck, he’ll be coming back to visit on the weekends.” The awkward tension in the air was palpable. “Would you care to join us?”
He shook his head. "No, thanks. Uncle Walter and I are going fishing. I just stopped by to pick up some lunch." He eyed us each in turn. "Whatever it is that y'all are up to, you'd better forget about it."
"Not that it's any of your business, young man, but we're talking about Gertie," Aunt Ida Belle said.
Fortune and I nodded in agreement. It felt good to finally be telling Deputy LeBlanc the truth for a change.
He shot a glance at the empty spot next to Fortune. “Where is she?”
“Home sick,” I said.
“Car trouble,” Fortune said at the exact same moment.
He frowned. “Which is it?”
“She’s home, worried sick about her car trouble.” It was lame but it was the best I could come up with on the spot.
"Right, like I'm going to believe that. You three are plotting some sort of nonsense. I can sense it."
Before we could demur, deny, or protest, Francine approached our booth, a pot of hot coffee in hand. “Run along now, Carter, and quit pestering these poor, innocent ladies."
I admired the way Francine could say that without cracking a smile. She'd been extra kind to me since I'd been kidnapped from the back of her restaurant. None of what happened was remotely her fault but I wasn't above accepting an extra order of fries every time we came in here. I appreciated that she was trying to run interference with Carter.
"Go on." She pointed in the direction of the kitchen. "Your packed lunches are up front. Just leave the cash by the register."
"Mind what I said," Carter warned us.
Once he'd left, we sat staring at our coffee cups. I don't know exactly what my companions were thinking, but I was struggling to envision what life in Sinful would be like without Gertie around. Unimaginable.
“We have to do something,” I said. “Gertie can’t go.”
Aunt Ida Belle didn’t look up or acknowledge my words.
Fortune stood and gathered up the take-out containers. “Let’s head back to your house and hatch a game plan.” She had to prod Aunt Ida Belle to get her to move. Watching my great-aunt shuffle toward the door with a downcast head was galling.
It appeared as if Swamp Team Three plus one (me) had now shrunk down to just Fortune and myself – a mismatched pair if ever there was one.
Heaven help us.
Chapter Three
BY THE TIME WE GOT back to Aunt Ida Belle's house, my feet were aching. I kicked off my shoes and slipped on a pair of pi
nk satin bedroom slippers. The temptation to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head was hard to resist, but I knew Aunt Ida Belle was stewing. I made my way out to the living room. Aunt Ida Belle needed comfort. She needed company. She needed commiseration.
“You need a beer.” Fortune set a bottle in front of her. “It’ll help you think.”
Aunt Ida Belle pushed it away. “I don’t want to think.”
Fortune pushed the bottle back toward her. “Then it will help you relax.”
Honestly. She sounded like a snake oil saleswoman. “Herbal tea might be a better alternative.” I sat beside her. “Let’s remember that Gertie hasn’t left yet. Maybe she’s still in the planning phase, or it’s just a day dream and she’ll snap out of it.”
“Gertie’s impulsive,” Fortune said.
“Impulsive and stupid are too different things,” I countered.
Aunt Ida Belle punched a throw pillow. “That’s just it, Gertie isn’t stupid. Stubborn, yes. Clueless at times, yes. But she’s never been stupid before, and especially not over a man.” She threw the pillow against the far wall. “But this time something else is going on.”
“Then you need to stop her.” I snapped my fingers. “I know. Why don’t we stage an intervention?
I saw a look pass between Aunt Ida Belle and Fortune but I couldn’t decipher it. “What? Why is that a bad idea?”
“It’s not that it’s a bad idea,” Fortune said. “It’s just that Gertie’s not like most people.”
This much I’d figured out already.
“What Fortune means is that when Gertie gets like this, she’s gonna do what she’s gonna do, and there’s no stopping her.”
We sat in an uncomfortable silence for several torturous minutes. “I’ll just put a pot of tea on then,” I stood. “What do you say, Aunt Ida Belle?”
Her answer was a moan, or a groan, I’m not sure which. But I took it for a yes. I prepped the china cups, adding a plate of lady fingers to the tray. Hopefully a soothing cup of tea would work restorative wonders on her bruised heart. A few minutes later I carried the tray in and looked around the empty room. Where had they gone? “Fortune?” I called out. There was no answer. “Aunt Ida Belle?”
I blew out a long, and I’ll admit, exasperated breath. These women were wonderful human beings but absolutely unlike any other women I’d ever known. Spending time with them was akin to socializing on an alien planet. I set the tea tray on the coffee table. My great-aunt’s beer sat untouched. I didn’t see Fortune’s bottle so she couldn’t have gone far.
She hadn’t.
I found her sitting on the front steps. “May I?”
She waved her hand at the empty space beside her. “Be my guest.”
I sat and arranged my skirt to cover my knees. “I thought maybe you and Aunt Ida Belle had taken off after Gertie.”
Fortune shook her head. “I suggested that very thing but Ida Belle said she wanted to take a nap.”
“Oh.” I hardly knew what to say to that. My aunt wasn’t the napping kind.
“Exactly. That tells you how bad this is.” She took a long swig of beer. “I’ve never seen Gertie acting this crazy before either.”
“What do you suggest we do?” I had no ideas of my own.
She shifted so that she sat facing me. “I’m glad you asked. I propose we team up and get to the bottom of this.”
“What if this is what Gertie really wants? What if it’s what makes her happy? I’m not sure it’s our place to stand between her and happiness.”
“I’m not saying that we keep her from dating Bull if that’s what she wants,” Fortune said. “But she needs to slow down this runaway train. Leaving town is extreme, especially since she’s just met this guy.”
I decided to play devil’s advocate. “Sometimes it doesn’t take long to decide you’re really attracted to someone. How long did it take you and Carter to recognize there was something between you?”
“Twice the time it took you and Agent Mayeux,” she shot back. “Look, I’m not good at this kind of touchy-feely girl talk. No one wants Gertie to be unhappy. It’s just that we don’t think she should run off and start a new life without thinking it through.”
It suddenly occurred to me that I had no idea where Gertie and Bull were headed. “All this fuss isn’t because she’s moving to Mudbug, is it?”
“Try Los Angeles.”
My eyes widened. Gertie in Los Angeles? Oh, dear.
“Exactly. It’s a bit of an extreme move, isn’t it?”
From the Louisiana bayou to the City of Angels? I nodded. “It definitely is.”
“I know you haven’t been here long, Stephanie, and I haven’t either for that matter. But I do know your aunt and she would never stand in the way of what was good for Gertie. Even if it meant Gertie leaving town. Ida Belle’s a smart woman and she’s known Gertie her whole life. If she feels that this is wrong, it likely is.”
I took her point. “If I’ve figured out anything since I’ve arrived, it’s that Gertie and Ida Belle are true friends,” I said. I’d also figured out that Fortune wasn’t exactly who she said she was, but I knew Aunt Ida Belle trusted her implicitly. That held sway with me. But what did she see in Fortune that I didn’t? Maybe working with her to sort out this Gertie thing would help me get to know the real Fortune. “Okay, I’m in. I’ll help however I can.”
“Good.” Fortune stood and extended a hand. I got to my feet and we shook hands, a new alliance formed through our mutual caring for Aunt Ida Belle and Gertie.
I felt a surge of certainty that with a bit of delicate handling, we could bring some sanity to the situation. “How do you suggest we start?”
“With breaking and entering.”
Of course. Why didn’t I see that coming?
WE ARRIVED IN MUDBUG just about the time my stomach started to growl. “Is there any place to eat here?” I looked around as Fortune guided her Jeep down the town’s main street. “Do they have the equivalent of Francine’s Diner here?”
“Don’t they wish.” Fortune swung into a parking space. “There’s a place called Spanky’s down at the end of this street. My guess is that they’ll know of Bull in there.”
My eyebrow’s rose. “Spanky’s?” If she thought I was going to hang out in a strip joint, on a Sunday no less, she was crazy. I told her so.
“Spanky’s isn’t a strip club. It’s a diner. The owner is a cantankerous old guy named Spanky, but he won’t be there today. He takes Sundays off.”
“How do you know all of this?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Recon comes naturally to me.”
I decided not to ask. If she and I were going to be successful in working together, I was going to have to let some things slide.
“My source told me—”
Make that a lot of things.
“—that Gertie and Bull were heading in to New Orleans for the day,” Fortune continued. “That gives us plenty of time to do what we came to do.”
“Which is?”
“You’re heading to Spanky’s to grab a bite to eat. While you’re there, discreetly ask about Bull. See what you can find out. Just leave Gertie’s name out of it. Can you handle that?”
“Of course,” I lied. “I’ll just sashay in there, make up a story out of thin air, and start gathering information. Piece of cake.” Unfortunately, my words came out a bit more sarcastic than I meant for them to. I really needed to do better if we were going to work together. “What about breaking and entering? When are we doing that part?”
“We’re not. I am.” Her expression was slightly apologetic. “No offense, but you’ll slow me down. Besides, you’re not dressed for it.” She gave my kitten heeled sandals a pointed look. “Not very practical if we need to do some running.”
I looked down. She was right. I’d chosen these sandals because they were white and it was almost September. Labor Day would be upon us soon and I’d have to put them away until after Memorial Day. “You don�
�t need a look-out?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m heading over to the boarding house where Bull has a room. You’d look conspicuous standing around in your Sunday finest.”
And so it was settled. Fortune drove off, promising to be back within the hour. I headed for Spanky’s, determined to uncover information to share with Fortune.
THE TIME THAT I SPENT at Spanky’s hole in the wall, for I wouldn’t call it a diner, was the longest twenty minutes of my life. From the moment I pushed open the door and stepped in, I felt more out of place than I could ever remember feeling before. One quick look around the darkened interior was all I needed to see to know that I’d much rather have been breaking into Bull’s lodging. Still, however uncomfortable I was, I had a job to do.
I perched on a barstool at the counter. The bar top was sticky, so I kept my hands in my lap. The establishment was more than half full, and the clientele predominantly male. I didn’t have to wait long before the bartender made his way over to me.
“Well, lookee here, ain’t you prim and proper?”
My eyebrows rose. “You know who I am?”
His forehead wrinkled into a frown. “Huh?”
My cheeks flamed as I realized that he didn’t recognize me, he was mocking me. “I’d like a lemonade please.”
In short order he set a glass of something yellow in front of me. There was no way I was willing to add my fingerprints to the several dozen that adorned the glass, however, so I didn’t reach for it. My mind raced to think of a way to get the information I’d come for so I could get out of there. “I was hoping you could help me,” I said to the bartender. “I’m looking for a Mr. Dozer.”
He wiped the counter but didn’t raise his eyes to meet mine. “Bull?”
“Yes, that’s right. Do you know him?” I waited for an answer but none came so I plunged ahead. “I recently attended a wedding where things got a bit out of hand.” A true understatement considering the amount of blood that had been shed. “Mr. Dozer was kind enough to assist us in keeping order. I wanted to thank him.”
A Sinful Mistake Page 2