Change of Fortune

by Jana DeLeon

  He drove his boat onto the bank where Celia and Dorothy had taken flight, then jumped out and headed through the bushes. Ambulance sirens echoed across the bayou and I hoped it was a cursory call and not a necessary one. The shouting had lessened to occasional name-calling. I could make out three women’s voices and one man.

  “Whose house is that?” I asked.

  “Leonard Walsh,” Ida Belle said.

  I stretched my memory to church, the General Store, and the café—the places I usually came in contact with Sinful residents. “Sixties? Mole on his forehead?”

  Ida Belle nodded.

  “Is he married?” I asked. I usually saw him at the café with a couple of other older men, but that didn’t mean anything. Most of the groups of older men in Sinful had wives that they were trying to escape for a bit. Same for the women. The café was a regular meeting place for both. The men early in the morning and the women later.

  “Widowed,” Gertie said. “About a year ago.”

  “Family in town?” I asked.

  “No,” Ida Belle said. “He had an older sister, but she died of cancer fairly young. His parents are long gone, and his kids moved out of state right after high school.”

  “Interesting,” I said. “So do either of you recognize the voice of the woman in his backyard?”

  They both shook their heads.

  “I wonder if Leonard was having a soiree in his backyard,” Gertie said. “The old coot. Couldn’t even wait until his wife’s body was cold.”

  “Her body was cold forty years ago when they married,” Ida Belle said.

  “I thought you weren’t supposed to speak ill of the dead,” I said.

  “Then I wouldn’t be talking a lot about dead people,” Ida Belle said. “His wife was a harsh woman who spent their entire marriage bossing him around like a drill sergeant. Did the same to her kids, which is why they left the day after high school graduation and rarely come back to visit.”

  “Now you’ve got me interested,” Gertie said. “Maybe we should go see what’s going on back there.”

  “We’ll do no such thing,” Ida Belle said. “And instead of wondering what’s going on in that yard, you better figure out a good reason why you’re not to blame for it.”

  “Here comes Carter,” I said. “I hope you’ve got your alibi ready.”

  He pushed his boat off the bank, then drove over next to us and grabbed hold of my seat to keep from drifting.

  “Is anyone hurt?” I asked.

  “Is it Celia?” Gertie asked, a little too excited at the prospect.

  Carter frowned at her. “No one is hurt. At least, not in the ‘needing medical transport’ sense, although I imagine Celia and Dorothy will be rather sore tomorrow. Any of you want to tell me what happened?”

  “What did they say happened?” Ida Belle asked.

  Good, I thought. It was always more efficient to figure out what you needed an alibi for before you started making stuff up. It saved a lot of creative energy.

  “They said Gertie shot a net over them, causing Dorothy to lose control of her boat. They said that you were trying to knock them out of the boat and into the bayou so Godzilla could eat them. They said I should arrest Gertie for attempted murder and Fortune for being a floozy.”

  “Hey, I guess I got off this time,” Ida Belle said.

  Carter shook his head. “According to Celia, you’re the ringleader and ultimately, all of this is your fault.”

  “As long as she recognizes me as the one in charge,” Ida Belle said.

  Carter sighed and looked at Gertie. “Did you shoot them with a net?”

  “No,” Gertie said. “Well, yes, but that wasn’t my intention.”

  Really? I leaned forward in my seat. This was about to get good.

  “Celia was throwing poisoned melt at Godzilla,” Gertie said.

  “Poisoned?” Carter glanced over at me and Ida Belle, and we nodded. “And you know this how?”

  Gertie told him about the phone call from Walter and Celia’s purchases at his friend’s store. I could see Carter’s jaw clench and knew Walter would be getting an earful from his nephew for going straight to Gertie with that bit of information.

  “So I shot the net at Godzilla,” Gertie said. “I figured if I could get him trapped in the net, we could haul him to a preserve and then he’d be safe.”

  “But you didn’t hit the alligator with the net,” Carter said.

  “Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to train with the gun beforehand,” Gertie said. “This was the first time I used it. I guess my aim was off.”

  I shot an approving glance at Ida Belle. Gertie had managed to say all of that with a completely straight face.

  “See?” Ida Belle said. “It was an accident, and one that isn’t even remotely against the law. Unlike flinging poisoned melt into the bayou where anything could pick it up, not just that gator. As for the boat part of things—Dorothy’s throttle stuck.”

  “You’re sure about that?” Carter asked.

  “Positive,” Ida Belle said. “She didn’t even have her hand on the tiller when they flew past us and hit the bank. She was too busy yanking on the net.”

  I nodded. “Dorothy only touched that thing Ida Belle said—the handle on the motor—once, then let go, but the boat kept coming. If Ida Belle hadn’t moved us out of the way, they’d have run right into us.”

  “You know good and well Dorothy doesn’t maintain that boat,” Ida Belle said. “The darn thing shouldn’t even be registered. Clearly, it’s a danger to everyone on the water and on the bank.”

  “What happened up there anyway?” I asked, unable to control my curiosity any longer. “There was a lot of yelling. Was Mr. Walsh in his backyard? I heard Celia yelling about floozies and figured she was blaming it all on me.”

  Carter rubbed his jaw, and I could tell he was trying to decide what, if anything, to tell us. He must have figured we’d hear about it anyway because finally, he dropped his hand and I could see his lips quivering.

  “Yes,” he said. “Mr. Walsh was home, and he was not alone. He was in his pool with Ms. Morehead…naked…when Dorothy’s boat flew through the azaleas and crash-landed in the pool next to them.”

  “Ms. Morehead? As in Dorothy’s sister?” Gertie asked.

  Carter nodded. “I have recently been made aware that Dorothy had been secretly dating Mr. Walsh and was less than thrilled to find her sister in the buff with him.”

  Gertie hooted. “Oh boy!”

  “How did we not know about any of this?” Ida Belle asked.

  Carter couldn’t hold it any longer and the grin finally broke through. “So, for once, the floozy calling wasn’t about Fortune.”

  “I wonder how many women ol’ Leonard is ‘secretly’ dating?” I asked.

  “I have a feeling we’re about to find out,” Carter said. He studied Gertie for several seconds, then sighed. “I suppose the entire thing is your word against hers.”

  “Except for the poisoning,” Ida Belle said. “If you test that melt, you’ll know for sure.”

  “And I plan to,” Carter said. “That’s public endangerment, and I’m not about to let it slide. That melt could have washed up on the bank and been picked up by someone’s pet.”

  “We’re not far from my house,” I said. “Merlin could have gotten a hold of that. If that witch hurts my cat, I’ll shoot her with something worse than a net.”

  “Don’t worry about Celia,” Carter said. “She won’t be throwing any more poison meat in the bayou. As soon as I have proof of the poisoning, I’ll let her sit in jail for a day or so.”

  “Then you’ll have to listen to her mouth,” Ida Belle said.

  “I’ll have the sheriff cover the office those days,” Carter said. “He won’t hear anything.”

  “I want my net back,” Gertie said.

  “It’s in shreds,” Carter said. “They got pitched out of the boat when it crash-landed. Walsh had to cut them loose before they drowned.�
�

  “It’s a shame he was home,” Gertie grumbled.

  “Is that gator still around?” Carter asked, scanning the bayou.

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  “He probably took off because of all the commotion,” Ida Belle said.

  Carter nodded. “Which is exactly what you three should do. And do me a favor—find something indoors to do the rest of the day. Something that doesn’t involve weapons or explosions or animals that can kill people. Just one evening of peace and quiet. Is that too much to ask?”

  We all shook our heads. That had been my plan anyway. I desperately needed a shower and I wasn’t alone. And despite the huge plate of lasagna I’d eaten earlier, I was starving. All the excitement must have burned off my lunch. I checked my watch. Three p.m. Seriously? It felt as if we’d been out here at least a week.

  “Okay,” Carter said. “Well, I’ve got to go grab that bucket of meat before it disappears.” He looked at me. “I’ll see you later tonight, but I don’t know what time. I have to deal with this, and I have a feeling I’m going to be hearing about it for quite a while. Especially as I’m not hauling any of you to jail.”

  “I’m going home and staying put,” I said and held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

  “You wouldn’t have lasted five minutes in the Scouts,” Carter said before pulling away.

  “I wonder how they’re going to get the boat out of the pool,” I said.

  “It’s small enough,” Ida Belle said. “They can probably get some guys to lift it out.”

  “Well, at least the boat is out of commission,” Gertie said. “I can’t imagine that trip through the hedges and into the pool did it any good, and apparently, it was already on its last leg.”

  Ida Belle nodded. “We may have a reprieve on Celia’s water access. And since Carter is going to pursue the poisoned meat thing, maybe she’ll back off.”

  “Celia will never back off,” Gertie said. “She hates us too much for that.”

  “Maybe she’ll back off long enough for us to relocate Godzilla,” Ida Belle said.

  It sounded good, but I had my doubts. We were talking about Celia here.

  She’d finally figured out a way to hurt Gertie. She wasn’t going to let it go that easily.

  Chapter Eight

  I had a thirty-minute cold shower and a big roast beef sandwich, then cleared the dishes and debated what to do with the rest of my day. It had been a long one already, and it was only late afternoon. At the rate I was going, I’d age ten years before I went to bed. I was just deliberating between a Justified marathon or a nap on the couch when my phone rang. It was Ally.

  “Are you home?” she asked.

  “Home and not about to leave unless it’s on fire.”

  “Did Carter put you on house arrest?”

  “You heard?”

  “The whole town heard,” Ally said. “Mr. Walsh in the buff with Dorothy’s sister…that’s gossip that will travel for a good month.”

  “I have a sneaky suspicion Dorothy’s sister wasn’t the only other widow in town ol’ Leonard was sneaking around with. This one might carry through to the holidays.”

  “We can only hope. Maybe that will drown out Aunt Celia’s nonsense. Anyway, the reason I called is that I have that café list you wanted. I was going to drop it by. Is now a good time?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll see if I can round up Ida Belle and Gertie. Since they know all the people involved, they’ll have more thoughts on the matter than I will.”

  “Cool. I’m going to stop at the General Store and pick up an order, then I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.”

  I disconnected and got Gertie and Ida Belle on the horn. Both had showered and had a snack and were up for discussing the Case of the Missing Morsels with Ally. Gertie also offered to bring cobbler. I have no idea why she still insisted on getting permission. There was no way I was ever turning down homemade cobbler.

  I headed into the kitchen and did a quick assessment of beverages. I had some beer and a bottle of wine, but I was running low on diet sodas. I made a mental note to assess my pantry later on and put a list together for Walter. If I was low on soda, I was probably low on or completely out of other things. Oh well. Worst-case scenario, I wouldn’t have enough diet soda to go around and someone would have to drink beer. After the day I’d had, I was happy to volunteer. I had a feeling Gertie and Ida Belle would be requesting an alcoholic refreshment as well.

  Everyone arrived at the same time and I waved them into the kitchen.

  “I’m taking drink orders,” I said.

  “Beer me,” Ida Belle said.

  “That sounds good,” Gertie said. “Make it two.”

  I pulled three beers out of the fridge. “Ally?”

  “Diet soda for me,” Ally said. “I have to drive to New Orleans this evening. I’m having dinner with a pastry chef there to pick his brain.”

  Ally had left Sinful after high school and gone to nursing school in New Orleans, even though it wasn’t what she really wanted to do. When her mother got sick, she returned to Sinful to care for her and took a job waitressing at the café. Finally, her mother had gotten too ill for Ally to handle and she’d moved to a nursing home in New Orleans. Ally decided to stay in Sinful and save her money, hoping to fulfill her dream to one day open a high-end bakery.

  “That sounds like fun,” Gertie said as they all sat at the kitchen table. “Are you going to talk recipes or business?”

  “Business,” Ally said. “Chefs never talk recipes. They’d lend you their lover before they would their baking secrets.”

  I put the drinks on the table and slid into my seat. “You don’t need any baking secrets. You have all the ammunition you need.”

  Ally blushed. “Thanks. I’m happy with several of my items, but I need to learn more about the actual store part. You know, leasing a space and handling employees…advertising. If the only thing I needed to know was baking, it would be easy.”

  Ida Belle nodded. “You’re smart to study the business. Most people fail when they go out on their own because they didn’t do that legwork.”

  “That’s what Walter and Francine both say,” Ally said. “They’ve been really helpful with things. Walter is a whiz at the numbers end of things and showed me his payroll and accounting software. And his CPA is happy to take me on when I’m ready. Francine knows all about the health code and food supply services and contracts. But I needed to talk to someone who owns a bakery because the product offering is so specialized.”

  “Are you planning on staying in Sinful?” Gertie asked.

  “I don’t know,” Ally said. “At one time, I would have told you heck no and been gone like the wind as soon as possible. But now, I kinda like it here. The problem is I don’t know if I can have a profitable business in Sinful.”

  “What about special events catering?” Ida Belle asked. “Or shipping certain products? The internet has a never-ending supply of hungry people. You just need to figure out how to target them.”

  “Those are both items I’ve been thinking about,” Ally said. “I’m hoping the chef will be able to give me the up and down sides of both. But enough about me and my dreams of high-end cupcakes.” She pulled a folded sheet of paper from her purse and pushed it across the table to me. “In talking with Francine, she narrowed down the window on one of the thefts to between closing one night and opening the next morning.”

  “Which means they had to have a key,” I said.

  Ally nodded. “So I just listed the employees that have a key. Francine updated all the locks about a month ago and gave those of us that handle open or close new keys, so there isn’t any issue with any old ones floating around.”

  “So if someone made a copy of an employee’s key,” Ida Belle said, “it had to happen in the last month.”

  “Exactly,” Ally said.

  I pulled the list over, then looked back up. “The first two names are you and Francine.”

&nbs
p; “I was being thorough,” Ally said.

  “Well, I think we can eliminate both of you,” I said. “That leaves us with Myra, Jordan, Clarissa, Marco, and Cora.” I looked at Ally. “So who’s your guess?”

  Ally looked pained. “I know you told me to give it a try, but honestly, I just don’t see it with any of them. I’m afraid I’m not good at the Nancy Drew thing at all.”

  “You’re young and nice,” Ida Belle said. “When you’re old and jaded, you’ll be able to find a reason for anyone to do anything.”

  “I’m not old and I’m jaded,” Gertie said.

  Ida Belle rolled her eyes. “You’re so old, ‘jaded’ wasn’t even a word when you were born.”

  “Okay, jaded old woman,” I said to Ida Belle. “What’s your assessment? You’ve already given me Myra’s background and she seems unlikely. What’s the skinny on the others?”

  “Cora is the wife of the music director at the Catholic church,” Ida Belle said.

  “So I guess that leaves her out?” I said.

  “I never said that,” Ida Belle said. “If we gave everyone a pass because they sat in church on Sunday, few people in the South would ever be arrested.”

  “The guilty have more to confess,” Gertie said.

  “So husband has a stable job and she works, too,” I said. “Probably not in a situation where they need to lift food.”

  “I doubt the husband makes good money at the church,” Ida Belle said, “but with her tips, I think they’re probably doing okay. He inherited his aunt’s house, so no house note, which is usually the biggest expense.”

  I grabbed a pen from the kitchen counter and made some notes next to Cora’s name. “What about Marco? He runs the kitchen, right?”

  “Francine runs the kitchen,” Ally said, “but Marco is her lead guy. He’s been with her since she opened, though. I can’t imagine him stealing from her.”

  I looked at Ida Belle. “What do you say, Jaded? Does Marco have any vices?”

  “He dated a woman in New Orleans for a while,” she said, “but I think that cooled some time back. He still heads to the city a couple times a month, but single-lady pickings are slim in Sinful and Marco is midforties and not getting any younger.”