by Jana DeLeon
“She’s not making good choices?” Gertie asked, sounding sympathetic as only Gertie could manage.
“No,” Braxton said, “but then she never has, so my expectations were low to begin with. The truth is I haven’t seen Clarissa in over a week, except for one morning when I had breakfast at the café. And even then, she switched tables with Ally so she didn’t have to wait on me.” He sighed. “I swear I did everything I could, but that girl took after her mother. Marrying Destiny was a mistake, and I compounded it by having a child with her. She wasn’t exactly wife and mother material.”
Gertie patted his arm. “You did the best you could, but at some point, you just have to cut them loose and pray for the best.”
“All the prayers in Sinful won’t give that girl a lick of sense,” Braxton said. “Last week, I got a phone call in the middle of the night and I just knew it was the police calling to tell me something bad had happened. Turned out it was a wrong number, but short of a miracle, I know that call is coming.”
“Well, if there’s anything we can do,” Gertie said, “please let us know.”
“I appreciate it, but I think that train left the station years ago. You ladies have a nice evening.” He looked at Ida Belle. “If you come up with a good tile person, let me know. It’s time I changed all of this. Past time, actually.”
“I’ll let you know,” Ida Belle promised, and we headed out.
As soon as we drove away, Ida Belle pulled out her cell phone.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “Making notes?”
“No. I’m deleting those horrible tile pictures before my phone locks up in protest.”
“I may bleach my eyes,” I said. “Why didn’t he leave the cardboard up? Or wallpaper over it? Heck, coloring it with permanent marker would have worked even and couldn’t have looked worse. Seriously, no one is that cheap.”
Ida Belle nodded. “My guess would be he didn’t take it down because of Clarissa. Destiny was certainly no prize parent, but she was still Clarissa’s mother.”
“Well, it sounds like Clarissa is following in her mother’s questionable footsteps,” I said. “And we still can’t eliminate her from our suspect list. If she hasn’t been home for a week, then the stolen goods wouldn’t be at her dad’s house.”
“As far as I’m concerned,” Gertie said, “this moves her straight to the top of the suspect list. I guarantee you she hasn’t been hanging out with any reputable young men.”
“Maybe Francine will know who Clarissa is seeing,” Ida Belle said. “I don’t think she’d be stupid enough to bring them around the café, but people talk.”
Gertie nodded. “And given that Francine is Clarissa’s cousin and her employer, any responsible person would have filtered that information to her. Especially if she’s running with men from the Swamp Bar.”
“Well,” I said, “sounds like we need to get some more intel and come up with a way to check out the other freezers. And honestly, I don’t think I’m going to be any help today. I think I’m out of energy for anything else.”
Ida Belle glanced at me and I could tell she was concerned. It wasn’t normal for me to run low on energy, and she was smart enough to know that it had nothing to do with the physical activities of the day and everything to do with the mental ones. Mostly, all the thinking I was doing about the Ahmad takedown.
“Sounds good to me,” Ida Belle said. “I need to wash the SUV and do some grocery shopping or I’m going to be eating ramen noodles for the next week.”
Gertie nodded. “And I had just put some dough out to rise before you called.”
“Dough?” I asked. “If you tell me you’re making coffee cake, I will be your slave for a day. Maybe two.”
Gertie laughed. “The enthusiasm is very flattering but the offers of servitude are not necessary. I’m making two—one for me and Ida Belle and one for you.”
“How come I have to split one with you?” Ida Belle asked.
“Because as much as I hate to admit it,” Gertie said, “you and I don’t burn off calories sitting still like Fortune does.”
“She’ll age and suffer along with the rest of us one day,” Ida Belle said.
“If suffering comes with coffee cake, sign me up,” I said.
I pulled into my driveway. and the two of them headed to Ida Belle’s SUV, waving as they pulled away. I headed inside, my head overflowing with so much information that I knew if I didn’t give it a rest, I was going to end up with a migraine. It was time to take a much-needed break. Between Godzilla and Ahmad, I was done with worrying and thinking. I’d thought keeping busy would keep me distracted, but all it had done was give me more to think about. It was time to escape. And there was no better place for that than my hammock with a good book.
I had finished the last novel up a couple days before and went upstairs to cruise through Marge’s collection for another. The last had been a spy novel, and while entertaining, I didn’t need a reminder of the upcoming Ahmad takedown, so I swept past that section. The next was fantasy, which I considered for a moment, but then decided that dragons were too much like Godzilla, which wasn’t the escape I was looking for. I finally settled on a good old-fashioned PI book, figuring I might be able to pick up some tips about my potential future employment.
I headed out back with a bottled water and the book and climbed into the hammock. Merlin took up residence in the lawn chair beside the hammock that was reserved for Carter, but Merlin had decided it had been placed there for him. He spent a lot of time napping in that chair. I opened the book to the first chapter and began to read. I hadn’t even made it three pages in before I nodded off.
I awakened to a hiss and then a frantic cat running across my forehead. I tried to bolt up, confused about where I was and what was happening, and remembered, a little too late, that I was in the hammock. I pitched out the side and fell facedown on the ground. I was just about to yell at Merlin when I realized something was moving nearby. Something large and definitely not my cat.
I lifted my head and found myself face-to-face with Godzilla.
I let out a scream that could probably be heard all the way back in DC and leaped up from the ground, then scrambled for one of the trees the hammock hung from. I shinnied up it like one of those pineapple pickers in the tropics, hitting Merlin on my way up and knocking him onto a lower branch. He grabbed the branch, his bottom end dangling, and I saw the gator race for the tree and hiss.
I reached down to grab Merlin by the scruff and pulled him back onto the branch below me. He repaid my efforts by racing straight up my body and taking roost on the top of my head, claws digging into my skull. I reached for my cell phone and realized it was sitting in the chair Merlin had vacated.
But I didn’t even take a nap without my pistol.
I pulled it from the holster at my waist and took aim at the gator. This entire thing had gone from ridiculous to downright dangerous. I’d take the body out into the bayou and dump it. Gertie would blame Celia when she couldn’t find him, and the natural order of enemy fire in Sinful would go on as usual. I sighted in the spot on his head I knew would kill him and started to squeeze. But something stopped me.
He was looking at me, and I swear he was smiling.
All those teeth in that enormous mouth looked like a smiling jack-o’-lantern and Lord help me, I couldn’t pull the trigger. What the heck was wrong with me?
I took a deep breath and blew it out, then aimed again. Then I moved the pistol to the side. Maybe if I fired a warning shot, he’d leave. Then I could pretend this never happened. And maybe the warning shot would be enough to scare Godzilla away from the area. I didn’t believe that for a minute, but it sounded good.
Just as I squeezed the trigger, Merlin shifted and one claw dug directly into my forehead. I yelped and the shot went wide, hitting the chair and flipping it over. The gator hissed but didn’t seem fazed. I shoved the pistol back in my waistband and tugged the cat off my head, wincing as he clawed across my scalp.
That was definitely going to scar. I plopped him onto a nearby branch and pulled out my pistol again.
I sighted in a spot right next to the gator’s head and was about to fire when I heard yelling. I looked over and saw my neighbor, Ronald Franklin Jr., come through the hedges between our lawns. He was wearing a Confederate soldier uniform and I swear what looked like women’s pumps. His face was as red as the shoes, and he stomped across the lawn with far more grace than I could have managed in five-inch heels.
“I’ve had about enough of your shenanigans, missy,” he said as he approached.
“Stop!” I yelled. “Don’t come any closer.”
“Don’t you dare try to pull that trespassing thing on me. Your screaming is a public nuisance, and firing a gun is highly illegal. I’ve called the police, so hiding in that tree won’t help you.”
He continued to push forward, not even noticing the alligator sitting in the ivy at the base of the tree. Okay, so maybe he blended, a little, but if Ronald hadn’t been on his high horse, he would have spotted him.
“It’s dangerous,” I said, and pointed down. “Alligator.”
“Don’t be foolish,” he said, continuing his walk toward me. “I’ve lived here my entire life and never had an alligator come up into my lawn. You’re not getting away with nonsense this time. I don’t care who you’re dating. Don’t think I haven’t seen Deputy LeBlanc’s truck parked in your driveway at indecent hours.”
“There’s an alligator down there,” I insisted. “Just look, you fool!”
Maybe it was the yelling, or maybe it finally occurred to him that I sounded serious and there wasn’t a good reason for me and the cat to be clinging to the tree like a lifeline. He took one look down and gasped, but it was too late. Godzilla homed in on him and rose up on all fours. Ronald screamed so loudly he made mine sound weak, then dashed for the tree that held the other end of the hammock. Godzilla whirled around and headed straight toward him.
Like any good horror movie heroine, Ronald refused to kick off his heels when he bolted for the tree and then scrambled up the side. The heel of the right shoe snapped off as he climbed up the tree, and I heard him yelp in pain. I wasn’t sure if that was over the broken shoe or the bark that was probably eating off his bare ankles. He got to the first branch, a good ten feet above the ground, and stood there, hugging the tree as though it had been gone off to war and he hadn’t seen it in years.
“You could have gotten me killed,” he said.
“I tried to tell you. And besides, who hears a bloodcurdling scream and dashes toward it? In heels, I might add. And what the hell are you wearing? Are you doing one of those reenactment things?”
“This is what I wear for afternoon tea.”
I didn’t even know what to say. I mean, aside from it was probably a good thing he normally wore that getup inside his house. The Confederate soldier uniform was bad enough and the heels weren’t doing anything to improve the image.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” he said. “Do something.”
“What do you suggest I do? I’ve already fired a shot at it. He’s not scared.”
“Then fire another and kill it.”
“I thought you called the police.”
“And what do you think they’re going to do?”
He had a point. Carter was somewhat sympathetic to Gertie’s unorthodox attachment to the gator, but he couldn’t let that get in the way of keeping the rest of Sinful safe. Regardless of what Gertie believed, Godzilla was still a stone-cold reptile who could easily kill a human and then drag them off to the watery depths to be tenderized for later consumption.
Still, there was always the cowardly train of thought. Gertie would take it better if Carter shot the alligator than if I did. But then, she’d probably blame me for not scaring him away before Carter arrived. Jeez, this situation had far too many things to consider, especially now that I had a witness. And the answers weren’t exactly obvious while clinging to a tree.
“Don’t just stand there, you idiot,” Ronald said. “Shoot it!”
I pulled my pistol out, and for a split second, I considered doing us all a favor and shooting Ronald, but I figured that wouldn’t be the best foot forward into my future. I took aim at the gator and squeezed off a round right next to his head. He didn’t even flinch.
“You missed,” Ronald said. “Don’t you know how to shoot?”
I pretended to fumble with the gun and fired off a round toward Ronald, taking the heel off his remaining intact shoe. “Sorry,” I said. “I haven’t practiced in a while.”
“You’re going to buy me a new pair of shoes.”
“I’m not buying you anything. You trespass on my property, you get what you get. Next time you hear me scream, maybe call the police, then stay in your own yard.”
“If you can’t shoot him, then throw that cat down and give him something to eat while we get away.”
Okay. Now I wanted to shoot him for real.
Merlin glared at him and hissed, as if he’d understood the entire exchange.
I heard the splintering sound, but it took me a second to realize what it was. The branch Ronald was standing on was starting to break. “Get off that branch!” I yelled.
But it was too late.
A loud snap echoed across my lawn as the branch broke pitching Ronald out of the tree and directly into the hammock. All the commotion startled Merlin and he jumped back on top of my head, covering one of my eyes with his paws. I shoved my pistol sideways in my mouth and flailed around a bit, trying to pull his paw off my eye without blinding myself, but I only had one hand to work with since I was using the other to hold on to the tree.
“Good God Almighty.” Carter’s voice sounded below me.
I looked down with one eye, wondering why Godzilla wasn’t attacking, but all I saw was a very unhappy Ronald climbing out of the hammock, clutching what was left of the red pumps, and a clearly confused Carter. Godzilla was nowhere in sight, which figured since he was the one who’d caused all the problems to begin with. Merlin decided the world was safe again and sprang off my head, leaving tracks across my forehead as he went.
Ronald glared at Carter. “I want this woman arrested.”
I pulled my pistol out of my mouth and shoved it in my sports bra. “Get in line.”
Carter gave Ronald a once-over. “What did she do?”
Ronald held up what was left of one of the pumps. “She shot off my heel.”
“That was an accident.”
“You accidentally shot his heel?” Carter asked, and I could see his lips quivering.
Ronald pointed a finger up at me. “The woman is a menace. Marge was bad enough with her Guns & Ammo lifestyle, but at least she only cleaned them outside. She didn’t go shooting them off in her backyard and never at other residents.”
“Perhaps she never got to know you well enough,” I said. “Anyway, since he was trespassing not only in my yard, but up my tree, and I wasn’t trying to shoot him, I don’t think he has a case.”
“Uh-huh,” Carter said. “And you’re up a tree shooting because…”
“That beast was in her yard,” Ronald said. “The one that terrorized downtown yesterday. That old coot Gertie keeps feeding it. It’s a menace that needs to be stopped.”
“Godzilla was in your yard?” Carter asked.
Ronald glared at Carter. “You’ve named it? What kind of lawman are you?”
“Gertie named it,” I said. “Godzilla startled me out of my nap and Nosy here called you when I screamed. And if he’d stayed on his own lawn, where he belonged, the situation wouldn’t have gotten out of hand and he wouldn’t have had a shoe casualty, although that’s probably a blessing. And I only shot one of them. He broke the other one climbing the tree. Therefore, I’m not buying him new shoes.”
“I don’t think anyone’s suggesting that you would,” Carter said.
“I absolutely think she should buy me new shoes,” Ronald said. “This entire mess is he
r fault.”
“He’s trespassing,” I said. “I want him arrested for that and for the damage to my tree. That branch can’t be repaired.”
Carter had apparently heard enough. He held up his hands. “No one is getting arrested. Mr. Franklin, I suggest you go home and find a different pair of shoes to wear. In fact, you might want to reconsider the entire outfit if you plan on leaving your house. Fortune, get down from that tree before you accidentally shoot your gun again.”
“You haven’t heard the last of this,” Ronald said as he stalked off. “I’m taking this up with the sheriff.”
Carter shook his head as I climbed down from the tree. “Why did you shoot his shoe?”
“He was irritating me.”
“Is that really all it takes?”
“Some days.”
“Maybe I’ll start wearing my steel-toed boots when you’re around.”
“Maybe I’ll start aiming higher.”
He laughed.
“That butthole Ronald suggested I toss Merlin out of the tree to distract Godzilla so he could get away,” I said. Technically, I’d shot off the heel before he’d suggested feeding my cat to Godzilla, but I saw no reason to mention that.
“Ah,” Carter said. “I’m surprised you only shot off his heel. So the gator was in your yard?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“I would have thought after all that commotion earlier, he would have headed for less crowded waters.”
“I thought so too, but clearly, we both underestimated the power of Gertie’s cooking. I was having a nap and woke up with an unwanted sleeping partner, except he wasn’t sleeping.”
“I assume the shooting scared him off…as was intended.”
“Actually, the shooting didn’t faze him. I have no idea why he left. If a peek at Celia’s bare butt and Ronald’s outfit didn’t do it, I’m not sure what will. Tell me the truth, Ronald’s a former mental patient, right?”
“He’s, uh, what my mother would call eccentric.”