Lethal Bayou Beauty

by Jana DeLeon

  “It’s been nice knowing you,” she said with a laugh and moved her finger to the trigger.

  At that instant, I pressed the magazine release and kicked myself backward as I twisted the pistol around, capitalizing the best I could on my weakened state. Vanessa screamed as the magazine dropped to the floor and clutched the pistol tighter, trying to reach the trigger.

  It seemed it was happening in slow motion, but for me, these situations always seemed that way. Her finger connected with the trigger and I saw her knuckle whiten. I would never get the gun turned around in time, so I put my finger over hers and ducked as I pulled the trigger.

  The bullet hit the wall behind me and I tumbled over backward in the chair, crashing to the floor. Immediately, I launched forward to grab the magazine before Vanessa got to it, but I’d used most of my remaining strength already. My fingertips brushed the cold plastic of the magazine as she grabbed it from my reach and reloaded the pistol.

  As she leveled the gun at me, I prayed that she was an accurate shot and this was over quickly. I’d seen enough people bleed out to know that wasn’t the way I wanted to go.

  The shot rang out and I waited for darkness. My body tingled, but I couldn’t tell if it was from the drugs or because life was slipping away from me.

  “Nice shot.” Gertie’s voice sounded above me.

  I twisted my head up and saw a blurry Ida Belle holding a pistol.

  Gertie dropped down next to me and pulled up my eyelids. “She’s been drugged. Vanessa was a Valium junkie. Call for airlift. We need to get her to New Orleans.”

  “Celia,” I said, struggling to remain conscious as the adrenaline drained out of my body. “She poisoned…”

  Then everything went blank.

  ###

  I was floating.

  It was a strange but wonderful feeling, having no weight or gravity. Tufts of white billowed by in a bright blue sky, bursts of sunlight streaming around me. In the distance, I saw a shimmering figure moving toward me, but I wasn’t afraid.

  Mother.

  She looked just as I remembered her—long blond hair glistening in the rays of sunlight, turquoise eyes glowing with happiness and joy.

  I broke into a smile so big that my cheeks hurt from the effort. I’d waited so long to see her again…had so much to tell her.

  She stepped in front of me and lifted one hand to stroke my cheek. “My baby,” she said. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I said, everything I wanted to say welling up inside of my head.

  But she started to fade.

  Dimmer and dimmer she became, until the last speck of light disappeared into the darkening sky. Then it was all gone and I was left in the middle of nothingness.

  I bolted upright, gasping for air, hands clutching my arms.

  For a moment, I gazed wildly around the room.

  Was I dead?

  Then I saw Gertie, Ida Belle, and Ally smiling down at me.

  “She’s back with us.” Gertie sniffed, then brushed her eyes with her hand.

  “She’s a tough bird,” Ida Belle said, but I could see the relief in her expression.

  Ally threw her arms around me and sobbed. “Oh my God! I thought you were going to die. Even when the doctors said you’d be all right, I refused to believe them until you woke up.”

  I hugged her back, the reality that I wasn’t dead finally sinking in.

  “What happened?” I said when Ally released me.

  “Vanessa drugged you and tried to kill you,” Ida Belle said.

  “I remember that part,” I said.

  Ida Belle nodded. “You put up one hell of a struggle for a woman with enough Valium in her system to put a horse to sleep.”

  “High tolerance,” I said.

  “Well, it’s a darn good thing,” Gertie said. “When Ally told us about your text, we knew something was wrong and went hauling it back to your house. That high tolerance of yours gave Ida Belle enough time to put one well-placed bullet between Vanessa’s eyes.”

  I smiled, the memory of Ida Belle standing above me, smoke still coming out of her gun, slowly returning.

  “Celia!” I shouted as all the details flooded back to me.

  “Is alive,” Gertie said. “You managed to tell us she was poisoned before you passed out. Both of you took a helicopter here to New Orleans. She’s going to take a little longer than you to get back up to speed, but she’s going to be fine.”

  I slumped back in the bed. “Thank God. So is Mayor Fontleroy in custody?”

  Gertie glanced at Ida Belle and shook her head. “Word about Vanessa got to him before Carter did. He took the coward’s way out.”

  “So they’re both dead?”

  “Yeah, but Carter has plenty of evidence to put Pansy’s case to bed. Carter cut Dr. Ryan loose with a strong admonition that in the future, he be pickier about the women he gets involved with, but the New Orleans police want to talk to him about the vehicle he ‘borrowed.’”

  I shook my head. “I wonder how he’s going to explain it all to his wife and staff.”

  “Who cares?” Ally said. “Serves him right for cheating.”

  “Got that right,” Gertie said. “Men are such trouble.”

  Ida Belle gave Gertie a sideways look, then looked down at me, a faint smile on her face. “Speaking of men, Carter refused to leave until your vitals were stable.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he was checking on Celia, too.”

  “Maybe, but he didn’t spend last night in Celia’s room.”

  I looked over at Gertie, figuring Ida Belle was pulling my leg, but she smiled and nodded. “He refused to leave. Caused a bit of a stink with the nurses.”

  I looked down and pretended to be absorbed with adjusting the plastic bracelet on my wrist. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Carter taking such a personal interest in me. On one hand, it made me feel special, but on the other, it scared me, because the person Carter thought he was looking out for wasn’t that person at all.

  But Ida Belle and Gertie knew exactly who I was, and they’d risked a lot to save my life and clear my name.

  “Thank you,” I said to Ida Belle and Gertie. “I wouldn’t be sitting here if it weren’t for you.”

  Gertie sniffed again and Ida Belle looked slightly uncomfortable.

  “Seems only fair that we’d bail you out,” Ida Belle said, “as we sorta got you into this mess to begin with.”

  “The festival.” With everything else going on, I’d completely forgotten the reason for my run-in with Pansy. “What are they going to do now?”

  Ida Belle shook her head. “The town’s operating without a mayor at the moment, so no one knows what to do. But I’m sure I can convince them of something more suitable.”

  I grinned.

  I would bet on it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The hospital cut me loose after a day of observation and with a promise from me that I would take it easy. Compared to the past week, anything looked easy. The first day I was back in Sinful, a constant flow of people moved through my house, piling up casseroles and baked goods and expressing their horror and sympathy over everything that had happened.

  No one came right out and said, “We’re sorry we thought you were a killer,” but I saw enough guilty looks to know that people felt bad for making incorrect assumptions. Walter, always the practical one, brought me a crate of root beer, Scooter tagging along behind him and clutching a pitiful arrangement of handpicked flowers. When I told Scooter how lovely the flowers were, Walter winked at me.

  Ida Belle and Gertie saw that everyone cleared out at a decent hour, insisting that I needed my rest. I wasn’t about to argue. I had improved miles since leaving the hospital, but I still felt nowhere near normal.

  According to Walter, Carter had cleared Mark from any involvement in Pansy’s murder—not that he’d ever thought Mark was involved. Mark admitted that he’d confessed because he was afraid Joanie had been the one who’d killed Pansy. Joanie
was beside herself that her husband had confessed to murder to protect her, and according to the local gossip, both appalled and somewhat pleased that he’d even considered her capable.

  I’d called Harrison from the hospital and almost gave him a heart attack when I relayed what had happened. He was understandably worried, especially that Director Morrow would find out about everything and yank me out. But I assured him that with all the bad guys dead, the issue would become merely a dark mark on Sinful’s past, so he calmed down and made me promise, yet again, to attempt a low profile.

  By the next morning, a large part of the old me had reemerged and all the people and food and condolences started to make me feel itchy and claustrophobic. Celia returned home that morning in the care of her cousin, Dorothy, who had dumped the tray of drinks on me, but Dorothy had asked for visitors to hold off a bit so that Celia could try to get her legs back underneath her. Given her age and physical conditioning, I was certain Celia was much worse for the wear than I was.

  The flow of Sinful residents tapered off at lunch and I finally managed to convince Gertie and Ida Belle to head home for a bit and give me some space. As soon as they were gone, I hopped in my Jeep and drove to Celia’s house. I wanted to talk to her before the parade started at her house, assuming the cousin would let me inside.

  I rapped lightly on the door, just in case Celia was asleep, and several seconds later, the door flew open and Dorothy glared out at me. When she realized who I was, the irritated expression disappeared and her eyes grew moist. She launched out the door, throwing her arms around me so hard she knocked me back a step.

  “Thank you so much for saving Celia,” she said, partly talking, partly sobbing. “I am so sorry I blamed you for this. Please forgive me for my anger and my pride.”

  “It’s okay,” I said and patted the woman’s back. “You were just looking out for Celia. I would have done the same thing in your place.”

  Of course, that wasn’t the least bit true because I wouldn’t have accused anyone of murder when it flew completely in the face of logic, but the woman was clearly distraught and I liked my rib cage in place.

  Finally, she let me go and waved me inside. “Celia is resting in her bedroom, but I know she’ll want to see you.”

  I nodded and followed her upstairs to the master bedroom. Celia was propped up on two enormous pillows, looking pale and more fragile than I’d ever seen her look before. She looked over at me as I stepped in the doorway and gave me a small smile.

  I took that as an invitation and took a seat in a chair next to the bed. Dorothy slipped quietly out of the room, leaving us alone.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “Like I have a hangover that would cripple a Spartan.”

  I smiled at the sheer accuracy of her statement.

  “I have to say, though,” Celia said, “that I’ve never been so happy to feel so awful. I hear that I have you to thank for waking up to this.”

  “No, I didn’t do anything.”

  “Bull. You managed, while drifting into unconsciousness, to tell Ida Belle and Gertie that I’d been poisoned. Another hour or two delaying treatment, and I would have died.”

  “But you didn’t,” I said, feeling a little uncomfortable with her appreciation.

  “Thank you,” Celia said quietly. “Thank you for saving my life.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said, deciding that the simplest response was probably the best.

  She wagged a finger at me. “But don’t think for a second that I’m going to give you an inch on Sunday. As soon as I’m back to my regular self, I intend to beat you to Francine’s, even if I have to cheat to do it.”

  I laughed. “I’d be disappointed with anything less.”

  She laughed along with me, but I could see how exhausted she was. “I’m going to let you rest,” I said and rose from the chair.

  She nodded and I turned to leave, then I paused and looked back at her. “I’m really sorry about Pansy.” And the most surprising thing was I meant it.

  Her eyes misted over and she gave me a nod.

  I left her house feeling better than I had in days. In fact, I was determined to spend the afternoon lying on a lawn chair in my backyard, soaking up some sun.

  I had just dozed off in said chair when I heard footsteps behind me.

  “This is what I’d like to see you do the rest of the summer,” Carter said.

  My pulse ticked up a notch at his voice and I didn’t even bother to hide my smile. “That’s because you’re so used to seeing me half-naked,” I said and waved a hand at my bikini.

  He grinned. “Maybe.”

  “I think you’re the only person in Sinful who didn’t visit me yesterday.”

  “Did you miss me?”

  Not about to admit that I had, I shook my head. “I didn’t have time to. I greeted more people yesterday than Pastor Don does on Sunday.”

  “Sounds like a busy day.”

  “Too busy. I prefer things quiet.”

  “Ha! You could have fooled me.”

  He had a point.

  “Hey,” I said, “You never really thought I’d killed Pansy, did you?”

  “No. I thought you were capable but I didn’t think she presented a big enough challenge.”

  “Too bad a long string of men can’t say the same thing.”

  He nodded. “The whole thing is surreal. Despite the fact that I think I would have figured it all out eventually, I never would have guessed in the beginning that Fontleroy and his wife were responsible and certainly not why.”

  “The whole thing is beyond gross, and sad for Celia.”

  “But maybe not without a small payoff.”

  “Oh?”

  “I stopped by Celia’s house before I came here. Her sister was there and it looks like they’re on their way to mending fences. I guess now that the truth is out, she doesn’t have a reason to stay away.”

  I smiled, happy that Celia would get a silver lining out of all of this misery. “That’s great. So I guess the sheriff is out a boss.”

  “For the time being. It was an election year anyway, so the city council has decided they’ll take over until a new mayor is elected.”

  I nodded. “I might be working on the campaign for a new candidate.”

  His eyes widened. “Not…”

  “Oh yeah,” I said, delighting in his dismay. “Ida Belle figures she’s been running Sinful since the sixties, so she may as well get the title and salary.”

  “Good God.”

  I couldn’t have said it better myself.

  The End

  If you haven’t gotten your fill of Sinful yet, visit the town website for more hilarity.

  http://sinfullouisiana.com/

  Are you interested in becoming a member of the Sinful Ladies Society? Visit the website and sign up now.

  http://sinfulladiessociety.com/

  The Author:

  Jana DeLeon grew up among the bayous and gators of southwest Louisiana. She’s never stumbled across a mystery like one of her heroines but is still hopeful. She lives in Dallas, Texas with a menagerie of animals and not a single ghost.

  Visit Jana at:

  Website: http://janadeleon.com

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jana-DeLeon-Author/312667975433458

  Twitter: @JanaDeLeon

  Books by Jana DeLeon:

  Rumble on the Bayou

  Unlucky

  The Ghost-in-Law Series:

  Trouble in Mudbug

  Mischief in Mudbug

  Showdown in Mudbug

  The Miss Fortune Series:

  Louisiana Longshot

  Looking for more great authors—try these!

  Jasinda Wilder—National bestselling author of the Big Girls series.

  http://www.jasindawilder.com/

  Colleen Gleason—International bestselling author of the Gardella Vampire Chronicles.

  http://www.colleengleason.com/

  Debra Holla
nd—USA Today bestselling author of the Montana series.

  http://drdebraholland.com/

  Denise Grover Swank—National bestselling author of the acclaimed Chosen series.

  http://denisegroverswank.com/

  Dorien Kelly—New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance and romantic comedy.

  http://dorienkelly.com/

  Theresa Ragan—National bestselling author of heart-stopping romantic suspense.

  http://www.theresaragan.com/

  Liliana Hart—USA Today bestselling author of mysteries and spicy romance.

  http://lilianahart.com/

  Jane Graves—New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance.

  http://www.janegraves.com/

  Trouble in Mudbug (excerpt)

  Chapter One

  “I still can’t believe she’s gone,” Maryse Robicheaux murmured as she stared down at the woman in the coffin.

  Of course, the pink suit was a dead giveaway—so to speak—that the wearer was no longer with them. For the miserable two years and thirty-two days she’d had to deal with her mother-in-law, Maryse had never once seen her wear a color other than black. Now she sorta resembled the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man dressed in Pepto-Bismol.

  “I can’t believe it either,” Sabine whispered back. “I didn’t know evil incarnate could die.”

  Maryse jabbed her best friend with her elbow. “For Pete’s sake, we’re at the woman’s funeral. Show some respect.”

  Sabine let out a sigh. “Maryse, that woman gave you holy hell. And her son was worse. I don’t even understand why you wanted to come.”

  Maryse stared at the casket again and shook her head. “I don’t know. I just felt compelled to. I can’t really explain it.”