Sinful Alibi

by Shari Hearn

  Marge shrugged. “They still said ‘yes.’ Hey, I can’t help it if I took the Martin brothers seriously. If we get caught, I can always blame it on being a ‘dumb female.’ In Sinful, that’s a legitimate defense.”

  “She’s right,” Granny Magoo said. “I used that defense many a time, especially when I was running moonshine.” She looked at Gertie.

  “I know, I didn’t hear that,” Gertie said.

  Granny Magoo picked up the phone to put it back on the telephone stand. “That Dolly acted all shocked when I told her about the thief, as if she didn’t already know.”

  The phone rang moments after Granny Magoo placed it on the stand.

  “Damn, she had second thoughts and is canceling. Let me get it,” Gertie said, rushing to pick up the phone. “Hello. Oh... Gill.” She glanced at the others and shrugged. “What a surprise to hear from you.” She listened, then nodded. “A lunch picnic sounds groovy. Just a minute, Gill.”

  Gertie placed her hand over the receiver and whispered to Ida Belle and Marge. “Can you two handle Dolly by yourselves? Gill said his friend just called with the results of the dog hair sample. His mother is making up sandwiches for us and he’d like to have a picnic lunch and share the results. Just the two of us.”

  “What if Gill is trying to set you up?” Marge asked.

  Gertie smiled. “Oh, I hope so.”

  “You should wait until after we get the information from Dolly,” Marge insisted.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Marge looked to Ida Belle to cast the tie-breaking vote.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, I’m well trained,” Gertie whispered, glaring at Marge. “If I can’t overtake a wimp like Gill, then the Army wasted all that martial arts and intelligence training on me.”

  Granny Magoo cleared her throat. Gertie looked at her, shocked that she revealed sensitive info in front of her grandmother. Granny Magoo held up her hand. “What training? I didn’t hear anything about training.”

  Ida Belle knew it was probably a setup. It was just too coincidental him calling the morning after someone tried to steal the baseball cap that his Aunt Dolly had set up to be stolen. But if they could get confessions from two suspects at once, well, that was just too good to pass up.

  Ida Belle looked at Marge’s worried face, then at Gertie’s eager face. Marge could be right, or this could be Marge being extra cautious, an annoying habit she brought back with her from Vietnam. She looked at Gertie and nodded.

  Gertie grinned and took her hand away from the receiver. “My previous engagement just cleared up, Gill. I would love to have a secluded picnic with you. And I know the perfect spot. A little pond just off Branley Road. Yes, it’s called the Sinfulbahn, but no one really goes that fast on it. That’s just a myth. It’s beautiful this time of year and very secluded.” Gertie’s eyes lit up. Ida Belle could just imagine all the things she was dreaming up for him. “I think it’s a groovy place for a little ‘us’ time. Noon be all right? Far out, see you then.”

  Gertie placed the receiver back on its cradle and laughed. “I thought Branley Road was a nice touch. Maybe a fear of fast cars runs in his family. At the very least, I’m hoping it will throw him off a bit, all those cars whizzing by.”

  “I still think it would be better if someone went with you,” Marge said.

  Gertie lifted her brows. “It’s a date, Marge. Just so you know, dates are usually confined to just two people.”

  “Don’t you worry about my Gertie,” Granny Magoo said, patting her granddaughter on the shoulder. “You should have seen the way she chased the thief last night. Besides, she’ll have Eloise with her.”

  “Eloise?” Marge asked. “Who’s that?”

  “Her gun.”

  “You named your gun?” Marge asked Gertie. “Didn’t you used to name your shoes when you were a kid? I always thought that was strange.”

  Gertie put her hand on her hip. “It’s not strange. Ida Belle named her gun.”

  “No I didn’t. That’s weird”

  Gertie threw her hands in the air. “Is B.B. King weird because he names his guitars Lucille? No. You two just have no imagination is all. If you don’t mind, I have to go unpack my pistol bra.”

  “Does that also have a name?” Ida Belle asked, laughing.

  Gertie rolled her eyes and flipped them the bird.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  THE GOOD NEWS WAS THAT Gertie’s peasant blouse did a great job of hiding the handgun hidden in her homemade pistol bra. The bad news was that the fabric she’d used for the holster, stitched into the bra below and between her boobs, had frayed from the wear and tear of being a busy spy. She could now feel the barrel of the gun poking through a small rip in the fabric, giving her a bit of an itch.

  Gill tossed her a smile as he cruised down Sinful’s main highway toward Branley Road that would eventually take them to their picnic spot. She returned his smile and pointed out his window, eager to distract him so she could rearrange everything.

  “Oh my Lord, is that an eagle?”

  Gill turned his head to look and she reached in her bra and scratched, then shifted the barrel of the gun back inside the fabric.

  “No, that would be a hawk,” Gill said.

  She quickly yanked her hand out of her blouse as he turned his head back toward the center of the road. “Silly me. I never could tell the difference between the two.”

  Gill laughed. “Then I have a lot to teach you. They’re vastly different. And so are their droppings.”

  “Lucky me for finding a man who knows his stuff.”

  Gill blew out a breath of relief. “I’m so glad to hear that. I fear sometimes my work isn’t very... romantic to hear about, especially on a date.”

  “Are you kidding?” Gertie asked. “Then call me weird, because when I hear you talking about analyzing it, I kinda get all tingly inside.”

  “Now you’re just pulling my leg.”

  “No, it’s true. You’re a genius. I’m so eager to also hear about the analysis of the dog hair. I bet that’s exciting as well.”

  “Oh, you don’t know the half of it. What the results show will totally astound you.”

  “And the results are...”

  He reached over and patted her leg. “That I’m saving for our picnic. I want to see your face when I tell you.”

  “You’re such a tease.” And probably a liar, Gertie thought. He never meant to have those dog hairs analyzed. He already knew they were either important or not because he was there when Guillory was murdered. That she was certain of. Why else was Gill in the woods next to the rental that night when the three of them were there searching for the missing baseball cap? She had thought he’d acted strange, especially after finding out what they were searching for. Did he kill Mr. Guillory to try to frame Bonnie, who was now seeing Deputy Broussard? Or was there some other reason?

  “You look deep in thought,” he said.

  “Oh, well, I was just thinking about what you said about your work not being exciting. Is that what other girls have said? Is that what Bonnie said?”

  His smile switched to a frown. “I’d rather not talk about her, if that’s okay with you.”

  Gertie reached over and patted him on the shoulder. “You know what I think? I think she hurt you in some way. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if you harbored a lot of anger toward her.”

  His grip on the wheel tightened. “Let’s talk about other things.”

  “Sure.” She let a moment pass before saying, “I think I found the missing baseball cap.”

  “The what?” he asked.

  “The missing baseball cap. You know, the one we were looking for that night we ran into you in the woods.”

  He appeared stunned. Was it real or was he acting? “Where did you find it?”

  “At the moment I’m not at liberty to say. I haven’t even told Ida Belle and Marge about it. Between you and me, my friends sometimes underestimate my abilities. I plan on doing some investigating of m
y own about that cap and show them I’m not some creampuff.”

  He shook his head. “I hope you’re not biting off more than you can chew. Real life isn’t some Nancy Drew story, you know. Besides, that cap could have nothing to do with the murder.”

  She nodded. “You could be right. Oh, our turn is coming up.”

  They came to an intersection and Gill stopped to wait for the oncoming vehicle to pass before turning.

  He tapped the steering wheel. “Where did you say you got that cap again?”

  Gertie ignored him and clapped her hands in delight. “Lookie there, it’s the Wienermobile.” She’d timed it perfectly. Gill turned on Branley Road behind them. Ida Belle was still taking it slow, so Gill easily drove past the Wienermobile.

  He shook his head as he pulled ahead of the car. “Silly,” was all he said. If he knew his Aunt Dolly was a passenger in it, he wasn’t letting on.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  SO FAR, SO GOOD, THOUGHT Ida Belle. Hot-wiring the Wienermobile had been easy, and Dolly seemed to be enjoying herself and hadn’t noticed that they had transitioned to Branley Road. The Wienermobile was actually a double-decker, with the driver’s and passenger seats located in the elevated hot dog that sat on top of the automobile.

  Though Dolly had been nervous at first to climb the built-in ladder to be seated, the lure of riding in an official Wienermobile won the day. Apparently, the Martin Brothers rarely gave the locals rides unless the locals were young, female and available.

  “I appreciate your taking it slow,” Dolly said to her from the back seat, where she sat next to Marge, whose mission it was to interrogate Dolly once Ida Belle put on the gas. “I must say, it feels a little reassuring to be above the other cars.”

  Marge reached over and patted her on the shoulder. “We take your safety seriously.” She looked up at Ida Belle’s face reflected in the rear-view mirror. “Hey, Ida Belle, maybe you can get a job on the Wienerfleet.”

  “Maybe I’ll apply,” said Ida Belle.

  “Oh, I can’t imagine they’d let a female drive one of their cars,” Dolly said, looking into the rear-view mirror. “I know you two are woman’s liberationists, but even you have to admit a single woman driving across the country in a giant wiener is courting trouble.” She turned to Marge with a serious look on her face. “Gertie’s grandmother said you brought my brother’s baseball cap with you.”

  “Yep,” Marge said. “It’s up front with Ida Belle. Weird that someone tried to steal it from the Hebert back porch.”

  Dolly didn’t respond to the comment regarding the theft, focusing instead on a street sign they’d just driven past. “I think you made a mistake, Ida Belle. This is Branley Road. All the speeders take this road.”

  A car sped past them from the opposing lane.

  “Like that one,” Dolly said. “We need to turn around and go back to the highway.”

  Ida Belle glanced up at the mirror. “Don’t worry, Miss Dolly, I’ll still take it slow. But it was no mistake. We noticed the last time we took the main highway that there was a big pothole. I didn’t want to put the Wienermobile at risk.”

  Dolly frowned. “I guess that makes sense.”

  A car going in their direction honked at their slow pace as it passed on the left.

  “Don’t let them get to you, Miss Dolly,” Marge said. “Getting back to the attempted theft of your... brother’s baseball cap. Gertie mentioned that when she looked out the window and saw the thief, that he went right to the chair next to the porch swing, as if he knew it was waiting there for him. How do you think he knew that?”

  “Well, how would I know?” she said with a nervous edge to her voice. Ida Belle could see the panic in Dolly’s face as it reflected through the rear-view mirror. “I didn’t call the thief and tell him it was there. I don’t even know him. Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know, you tell me,” Marge said calmly. Ida Belle had been on the other end of Marge’s “calm” interrogations during practice sessions. Marge’s ‘calm’ always spooked her. It was eerie.

  “Well, I... I... I don’t know.”

  Oh, yes you do, thought Ida Belle. It was time to take Dolly’s anxiety up a notch. Ida Belle heard Dolly yelp as she put a bit of pressure on the gas pedal and increased her speed to a still-slow 40 miles an hour. She was eager to really put her foot on the gas to see just how fast this wiener could go.

  And how much Dolly would reveal.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  GILL’S KNUCKLES WERE white as they gripped the steering wheel.

  Disneyland had the Matterhorn, Coney Island the Cyclone and Sinful had Branley Road. The real rollercoasters might have had the long climbs and steep drops, but Branley Road had the obstacles, either from ruts in the road, downed branches due to tropical storms, or the occasional alligator who decided to cross the road. A driver had to be on his or her toes at all times.

  Branley Road also attracted the cute hot-rodders, such as the one passing them now in his Stingray convertible, his dark hair blowing wildly in the wind. Gertie imagined sitting next to him, his muscular arm reaching out and pulling her close. She frowned as Gill’s nasally voice brought her back to reality.

  “Show boater. He must be going at least eighty,” Gill hissed. “I hope this picnic spot of yours is worth taking this road.”

  Gertie wiped the frown from her face and reached over to touch Gill’s shoulder. “I promise I will make this worth your while.”

  She must have succeeded at sounding sexy because Gill lifted his brows and his lips turned up slightly. “Why, Gertie, what do you have in—”

  “Watch out for the pothole!” she screamed.

  His face paled as he hit the brakes and swerved to miss the pit in the asphalt. The squeal of his tires, as well as his scream, pierced her ears.

  “Don’t hit the brakes!” she yelled as his car slid to the right, then the left, before coming to a complete stop on the roadway. She turned in her seat and looked behind them, fearing they were about to be plowed into. And they were. By the Wienermobile.

  She felt her heart stop then restart as Ida Belle sped around them without so much as stepping on her brakes. Gertie let out a huge breath.

  “Dear Lord!” Gill said, panting. “We could have gotten killed.”

  “That can still happen,” Gertie said. “Step on it.”

  He pressed his foot to the gas and continued on. She noted his pulsating neck veins. With his heart rate up and his nerves on edge, Gertie thought now would be a good time to rattle him even further.

  She gave him a minute to catch his breath before saying, “Gill, I’ve been wondering. Maybe you’re right about biting off more than I can chew by looking into Mr. Guillory’s murder.”

  “You definitely are,” he said, his knuckles turning white once again as he gripped the steering wheel.

  “But it’s just so intriguing,” she said. “Want to hear my latest theory?”

  “Gertie, we almost just got killed. Can we maybe talk about something more pleasant?”

  “Please.”

  He sighed and nodded. “Okay, fine. What is your theory?”

  “I’m thinking the killer is someone Bonnie Cotton had a tryst with lately.”

  “What?” he said, momentarily losing his grip on the wheel. He gasped as the car drifted left. Yanking the steering wheel to the right, he was able to pull the car back into their lane.

  Gertie nodded. “I think a man she had a tryst with recently may have killed Wade Guillory because he was angry with Bonnie and wanted to frame her for the crime.”

  “That’s crazy thinking,” he said, his breathing still deep, but not as rapid. “You should stop thinking it. Besides, weren’t you the one who thought Bonnie committed the crime herself?”

  “Turns out she had an alibi,” Gertie said, watching his reaction with interest.

  “What kind of an alibi?”

  “She was on a date with Deputy Broussard.”

  His eyes
grew wide. He turned and looked at her. “What?”

  “Downed tree limb!” Gertie screamed.

  Gill screamed as well and swerved on the shoulder to avoid hitting the huge tree limb lying in the middle of the road. He pulled back onto the pavement and continued to drive, although at a much slower pace.

  “Really?” he asked, his face getting red.

  Gertie nodded.

  He pursed his lips. “Mother says that deputy is a real playboy.”

  “Yeah, he seems that way,” Gertie said. “I hope I didn’t upset you. I thought you were totally over her.”

  “Yes, of course I am. I’m not upset at all.” He took a calming breath. “You, Gertie. You’re the girl for me. Not some tramp like Bonnie. You’re classy.”

  “I’m glad you can see that, Gill,” Gertie said, holding in a laugh. If by “classy” he meant fooling around with her Kung Fu instructor in a coat closet while the rest of her martial arts class was busy doing drills, then, yes, by all means, she had lots of class.

  “By the way, my friends Ida Belle and Marge don’t know I’m here,” Gertie said. “They think I’m fishing today. I didn’t want them to be jealous about my having a picnic with you.”

  There was no reaction from him about that. In fact, he seemed a mile away in his thoughts. Probably still fuming inside about Bonnie dating Deputy Broussard. Gertie decided to further throw him out of kilter. “And I’m not telling them that I’m taking the baseball cap to the newspaper in St. Charles so they can publish a photo of it.”

  He frowned.

  “That’s just between you and me.” She sighed. “Yep, nobody knows I’m here.” She emphasized that point again. If he were a cold-blooded murderer and desperate to prevent Gertie from publicizing the baseball cap, it would be easier to dispose of her if no one knew they were together. At least she was hoping he would try to kill her. Attempted murder would add years onto his sentence.

  “Did you say something about that baseball cap?” he asked, as if he’d suddenly ‘come to.’