by Jana DeLeon
“It would make things easier for us if he did,” Gertie said.
“I think that’s the point,” Ida Belle said.
“Whatever,” Gertie said. “He can bitch all he wants, but the reality is every time we’ve been involved, the bad guys have gone down. We have a one hundred percent success rate. How many law enforcement officers can claim that?”
“Probably not many,” I said.
“So what happens when we get the list?” Gertie asked.
“Recon,” I said. “We’ll take a day trip to New Orleans so I can assess each one and determine the most viable for what we need to do.”
“And what exactly will we be doing?” Ida Belle asked.
“Oh, I hope it involves explosives.” Gertie bounced up and down in her seat.
“God forbid,” Ida Belle said. “I don’t think the Heberts are lending a building so that the Feds can blow it up. Besides, that’s a little risky.”
“But permanent,” Gertie said. “Very few people survive a good explosion.”
“A valid point,” I said. “However, official policy is to capture the bad guys in case you can convince them to give up information.”
“You plan on capturing Ahmad?” Gertie asked.
“Hell, no!” I said. “I plan on putting an emptying an entire magazine into him. Maybe even reloading and going again.”
Ida Belle held up her beer bottle. “I approve of that plan.”
We clinked our bottles together, and I polished off the last bite of lasagna, somewhat surprised that I’d eaten the entire thing so quickly. I was just about to head to my refrigerator and dig out the last of a chocolate pie Ally had made for me when Gertie’s cell phone rang. She looked at the display and frowned, then answered.
“Hi, Walter,” she said.
I looked over at Ida Belle, who shrugged. Walter, the owner of the General Store and lifetime, ill-fated pursuer of Ida Belle, wasn’t much for talking on cell phones. Normally, I would have chalked it up to an order Gertie had placed at the store, but her frown had tipped me off that she wasn’t expecting to hear from Walter either.
“What?” Gertie’s voice rose several octaves. “When? Thanks for letting me know.”
She disconnected the call and slammed her phone on the table. “That bitch!” she yelled.
I didn’t have to ask. There was only one person who could make Gertie yell and slam cell phones. “Celia?”
“What’s she done now?” Ida Belle asked.
Gertie was so mad her face was flushed red. “Walter said his buddy who owns the feed store in Mudbug called him and said Celia was in there shopping.”
“What the heck is she doing all the way in Mudbug?” Ida Belle asked. “There’s no love lost between her and Walter, but that hasn’t stopped her from shopping at his store.”
“Exactly,” Gertie said, “which is why Walter’s buddy thought it was strange, especially when Celia claimed Walter’s stock was lacking and she had to shop elsewhere.”
I didn’t like where this was going. “Did Walter’s buddy say what Celia purchased?”
“Poison!” Gertie said. “And since Walter darn sure has the same one on the shelf in his store, I can only think of one reason she’d be trying to hide that acquisition.”
“She’s going to try to poison Godzilla,” Ida Belle said. “I knew she wouldn’t wait for the professionals to handle this.”
I wasn’t convinced the three of us were professionals—at least not when it came to alligator wrangling—but I understood Ida Belle’s point.
“She’s not looking for a solution,” I said. “She wants revenge.”
“Killing Godzilla isn’t going to make the town unsee her big panties in Carter’s face,” Gertie said. “And it’s not going to erase those videos on YouTube.”
“There are videos on YouTube?” I asked.
“Maybe a few,” Gertie said. “You’re not in them. I checked.”
“No. It won’t change any of that,” Ida Belle said. “But killing Godzilla would make you miserable, and that’s exactly what she’s shooting for.”
“I never understood that whole misery-loves-company thing,” I said. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just get a life?”
Ida Belle shook her head. “I think people like Celia have been miserable for so long, they don’t know how to do anything else.”
“I don’t suppose we could convince her to move,” I said.
“Gertie and I have been trying for years,” Ida Belle said. “If you can figure out how to make it happen, I’m willing to do it.”
“The bigger plan is going to have to wait,” Gertie said. “Celia also bought melt.”
“What is melt?” I asked.
“Cow innards,” Ida Belle said. “You leave them sitting out a bit and they stink to high heaven.”
“Which means Godzilla will be able to smell it from far away,” Gertie said. “She’s going to poison him. I’m certain of it.”
Gertie was so worked up she was almost to the point of tears.
“Now, let’s calm down a minute,” I said. “What Celia plans to do and what she’s capable of are two different things.”
“She’s right,” Ida Belle said. “All the stinky bait in the world isn’t going to help her find that gator. She can’t even drive a boat.”
“She can’t?” I asked, a little surprised. “I figured that would be a law here.”
“It is,” Gertie said. “Everyone is supposed to prove the ability to swim by three years old and the ability to drive a boat by five.”
“Okay,” I said. “That’s a little aggressive, even for Sinful. So why can’t Celia drive a boat?”
“She can, sorta,” Ida Belle said, “but it’s never ended well, for her or the boat.”
“Or Mr. Pitre’s truck,” Gertie said, “or that coop of chickens.”
“We could go on,” Ida Belle said. “Ultimately, the city decided to give Celia a pass, but she’s not supposed to drive a boat.”
“Perfect,” I said. “Problem solved. Surely the fine and upright Celia Arceneaux wouldn’t break the law?”
“No,” Ida Belle said. “But she could ask someone else to drive for her.”
“There’s always a work-around,” I grumbled. “Which one of her brainwashed followers has a boat and would be willing to help her chase an alligator?”
“Dorothy.”
They both answered at once.
“Her cousin?” I asked.
“That’s the one,” Gertie said. “Just the sight of the woman gives me indigestion.”
I’d “met” Dorothy when she dumped a tray of iced tea on me at the café. On purpose. She apologized later, when I’d saved Celia’s life, but since that little bit of reality had long since passed from Celia’s mind, I was going to hazard a guess that I was back on Dorothy’s shit list as well. On the plus side, Dorothy didn’t seem like the type that would be all that competent with boating, but Sinful held a few surprises in certain arenas, so I wasn’t willing to bet on it.
“Dorothy can handle a boat?” I asked.
“She’s no Jacques Cousteau,” Ida Belle said, “but she can manage to get a bass boat around without too much trouble.”
“Does she own a boat?” I asked.
“She inherited one from her father,” Gertie said. “He was never much of one for fishing, but back then, everyone was required to own a boat, so he kept one in his backyard.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and it won’t run,” I said.
“It runs,” Ida Belle said. “Dorothy’s nephew has been borrowing it. I’ve seen him out in that floating junk pile a couple times now.”
“Well, then we’ll just have to beat them to it,” Gertie said.
“How are we supposed to do that?” I asked. “We don’t have the trap yet.”
“I could tether him to the tree out back,” Gertie said.
“You want to tether a gator like he’s a dog?” Ida Belle asked. “That’s a ridiculous suggestion, ev
en for you.”
“Yeah, I’m going to have to go with Ida Belle on that one,” I said. “Tying up a gator like he’s an angry rottweiler is only going to make him frantic. Then we’ll never get him in the cage or even back in my yard. Which now that I think about it, isn’t the worst idea. Maybe we could scare him off and this whole thing will blow over.”
Ida Belle shook her head. “I’m afraid we’re at the point of no return with this one. Celia won’t let it go until Godzilla is dead or out of her grasp. The gator isn’t really the issue at this point. Getting even with Gertie is.”
“Then we’re back to the containment problem,” I said. “Assuming our plan works and we get Godzilla into my yard, I don’t think we can keep him here for hours with potato chips. Eventually, he’s going to head back into the water.”
“We could lock him in your shed,” Gertie said.
“He tore right through your bathroom door,” I said. “I don’t think my shed is up for a match with a prehistoric predator.”
“Actually,” Ida Belle said, “it’s not a horrible idea. Marge built that shed like a bunker. It’s all steel frame. The door is wood, but it’s solid hardwood, not that flimsy crap they put in houses these days, and Gertie had that bathroom door replaced when she remodeled a couple years ago.”
The thought of trapping Godzilla in the shed presented so many ancillary issues. For starters, technically, it wasn’t even my shed. So if the gator tore it up, we’d have to replace it. Then there was the stuff inside the shed. It didn’t belong to me either, and even though the estate paid for lawn maintenance so I had no use for the equipment, that didn’t mean I should let it get eaten by an alligator. Which meant relocating everything he could reach. Which meant more work. The bigger problem, of course, was if we managed to get him locked in the shed, I knew he wouldn’t be happy about it. Which meant a raging alligator would be trapped on the property I occupied. What if he got out and decided he wanted to take revenge on me? My backyard would never be safe again.
There was also the issue of real estate value. The real Sandy-Sue would have to settle her aunt’s estate soon. I had serious doubts that an angry alligator lurking about would be beneficial to property value. And I was pretty sure that if the shed was destroyed by an alligator, the real estate agent would have to disclose that little tidbit.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s just assume for a moment that we waltz Godzilla into the shed like the Pied Piper and he doesn’t level the place. How do we get him out of the shed and into the cage?”
“I have an idea,” Ida Belle said. “We put the cage in front of the shed door, back far enough to swing the door open. We leave the door on the cage up and put some of Gertie’s alligator goodies inside. I can get some sheet metal from Walter and we can brace it on both sides of the door from the shed to the cage.”
“So make a tunnel?” Gertie said. “That’s smart.”
“What do we brace the sheet metal with?” I asked. “If that gator charges, he’ll barrel right through most things.”
“Vehicles,” Ida Belle said. “We’ll park your Jeep and my SUV on each side and prop the sheet metal against them. No way he can move a vehicle.”
“And if everything goes wrong,” Gertie said, “we have a way to get away.”
“It sounded better until you talked,” I said to Gertie.
Unfortunately, our best-made plans often went awry. This one didn’t even count as best made. I was pretty sure it fell in the “certain suicide” category, but I also couldn’t come up with anything better.
“What the hell,” I said. “Let’s do it. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“We have to build Sandy-Sue a new shed or someone gets eaten,” Ida Belle said.
“Well, I’m the fastest runner, so it won’t be me that gets eaten,” I said. “Still, I wish I would have known about this before I ate my weight in pasta.”
“Maybe we can burn off the calories,” Gertie said.
Ida Belle shook her head. “I’m rather hoping we don’t have to.”
So was I, but I wouldn’t bet on it.
“What about you?” I asked Gertie. “You took some scrapes yesterday. Are you up to the fifty-yard dash if needed?”
Gertie nodded. “I have a heating pad and painkiller. I’m good to go.”
That didn’t sound quite right, but I was going to roll with it anyway.
“Okay,” I said. “We have a plan. Everyone head out and gather supplies and meet back here in thirty minutes.”
After all, it had been a whole twenty-four hours since I’d done something death-defying.
Chapter Six
I’d directed everyone to get supplies and meet back at my place, but then when they’d gone, I realized I had no idea what “supplies” might entail on my end. Ida Belle was acquiring the sheet metal, and Gertie was bringing the gator snacks and God only knew what else. I was furnishing the airboat and the shed, not to mention myself, which I supposed was plenty, but I still felt like that person showing up at a gun range with no rounds.
While I mulled over things that might happen and items we might need because of things that might happen, I cleaned out the shed, then changed clothes. Leggings, muscle shirt, and running shoes. It wasn’t a lot, but that meant there wasn’t a lot to weigh me down if things headed into the bayou. Thinking of taking a dip in the bayou made me remember that silly movie Gertie had made me watch with the Australian crocodile dude, so I went into Marge’s secret closet and grabbed a large hunting knife and belt from her stash.
I put the belt on, shoved the knife in, then hurried to the bathroom to check myself out. I took one look and shook my head. Ridiculous. I looked like some soccer mom having a nervous breakdown while on her way to the gym. I ditched the knife and shoved my pistol in my waistband. I’d grab some bottled waters from the kitchen and call my supplies complete.
I was out back getting my airboat ready when Ida Belle arrived with the sheet metal. She drove her SUV around into the backyard and parked in front of the shed. I headed over to help her slide the long, heavy metal pieces from the back of her SUV.
“Did you empty the shed?” Ida Belle asked as we laid one of the pieces on the ground.
“Uh-huh. Lucky for me Marge wasn’t much into tools and such. I just put the mower by the porch. The other stuff is on built-ins a good four feet off the ground. If he reaches that stuff, we’ve got bigger problems than replacing some lawn tools.”
“Keep your voice down when you say things like that. This entire thing could easily become a bigger problem. As far as I’m concerned, we’re already starting out in the negative.”
“I can’t believe we’re going to intentionally invite that gator onto my property. I made Gertie stop feeding him here so he’d go away. Quite frankly, I was a little concerned for Merlin. And myself.”
Ida Belle nodded as we pulled out the second sheet. “Gertie thinks that gator is stuck on her cooking, but he’d make a quick snack out of that cat if he could get a hold of him. Fortunately, Merlin’s too smart to get that close. Smart animals have an instinct about such things.”
“Well, apparently I’m in the dumb animal category. I went to put the ice chest back in my boat last week after washing it, and Godzilla crept right up the bank. I never heard a thing. He was just sitting there staring at me when I turned around to get out.”
“He probably thought you had goodies in the cooler.”
“Probably. Also Gertie’s fault.”
“So what did you do?”
“What any sane person would do. I struggled for ten minutes to push the boat off the bank with an oar, then left. What I should have done was shoot him and hide the body.”
“Did you have your pistol on you?”
I stared at her for a second.
“Never mind,” she said. “You’ll probably be buried with it.”
“Now that you mention it, I ought to put something in writing.”
“I figured given what you did for a
living, all that would have been taken care of years ago.”
“Why bother? I didn’t have anyone to leave stuff to. And since I’d be dead, it wouldn’t matter anyway.”
“Rational and efficient. That’s one of the many things I like about you.”
“What are the others?”
Ida Belle paused, seriously considering my question. “Well, for starters, I love that you go along with Gertie’s crazy ideas about things. She’s a royal pain in the butt at times—like this gator thing, for example—but she’s got a good heart. And I couldn’t ask for a more loyal friend.”
“Let’s hope this one doesn’t devolve as quickly as some of the others.”
My back door opened and Gertie walked out, pulling a duffel bag behind her.
“Someone come give me a hand,” she yelled. “This thing is heavy.”
I looked over at Ida Belle. “Should snacks weigh that much?”
“Not even close, but I’m afraid to ask what else she has in there.”
“We’re about to get in a boat with her.”
“Not if we ask what’s in that bag.”
“Good point.”
We headed over, and Ida Belle and I each picked up an end of the duffel bag and started carrying it to the airboat. I could have handled it alone but it definitely weighed more than some casserole and chips should weigh.
“I brought a couple extra things,” Gertie said. “Just in case.”
She didn’t elaborate on the “in case” part, and Ida Belle and I didn’t ask. I just nodded and made a noise as we hefted the bag into the bottom of the boat. The fleeting thought of mentioned explosives crossed my mind, but I didn’t think Gertie would take that kind of chance with Godzilla. I could, however, picture her lobbing a stick of dynamite at Dorothy’s boat, which pleased me a bit more than it probably should have. Ultimately, I decided not knowing was better. I’d just watch closely if Gertie moved toward that zipper and came up with anything but food.
Ida Belle climbed in first and took her position as chief airboat driver, aka Lightning on Water, and Gertie took up residence in the bottom of the boat on a new cushion I’d ordered specially for her.