by Jana DeLeon
Then I remembered Hooch’s fight with Dixie. I’d seen her collect her trophy and certificate from Walter, but she’d had her back to me, so I couldn’t see her face. I didn’t recall seeing her afterward.
But I wondered.
Chapter Five
“Get your skinny butt down here!” Ida Belle yelled from downstairs in my living room.
I’d just gotten dressed after a very long shower but was still surprised that Ida Belle had made it back so quickly. She must have heard something. I shoved my pistol in my waistband, grabbed my tennis shoes, and headed downstairs to find Ida Belle and Gertie standing in my living room.
Ida Belle’s hair was styled in her usual short cut and she wore jeans and a button-up. Clearly, she’d finished getting ready before she’d dashed out the door. Gertie hadn’t been as lucky. Her hair was still wet, and it hung in ringlets down her face, dripping onto her blue Batman T-shirt. The green sweatpants she wore didn’t even remotely match the shirt and she had two different sandals on her feet. One with a heel. One a flat. She wiped her face with a towel and was glaring at Ida Belle as if she wanted to strangle her with it.
“Okay, woman,” Gertie said, “out with it. You burst in and dragged me right out of the shower, barely letting me get decent enough to travel.”
I frowned. The jury was out on decent, but at least she was only traveling to my house. I had different standards than pretty much the whole rest of the world.
“It’s just Fortune,” Ida Belle said. “And she’s seen you in way worse. And far less.”
“I assume the gossip train made a trip to your cell phone?” I said.
Ida Belle nodded. “Hooch is dead.”
Gertie stopped blotting her hair and stared. “Dead? I figured he was sleeping off a drunk or didn’t catch anything and went home. And was sleeping off a drunk. Worst I could imagine was some sort of accident, but I never really believed he’d died, even though I suggested it.”
“I don’t think it’s as simple as death, either, is it?” I asked. Ida Belle had felt something was wrong the minute Hooch hadn’t shown, and I’d felt the same when I’d seen the look on Carter’s face. “Let’s move this to the kitchen.”
“Definitely,” Gertie said. “You owe me cream puffs and I’m eating two, maybe three.”
We headed back and Gertie started in on the dessert while I grabbed us drinks and then sat.
“They would have done an autopsy anyway, given it was an unattended death and there was no obvious cause,” Ida Belle said. “A local running his crab pots found Hooch slumped over in his boat. He checked for a pulse but said he was already gone. He called Carter and waited. He said Carter took one look at the body and called the ME, then secured Hooch’s boat as a crime scene.”
“How reliable is that account?” I asked. Sometimes information filtered through several sources before Ida Belle got it. The more sources, the more chance for things being overly dramatized or simply incorrect.
“Highly reliable,” Ida Belle said. “The guy who found him is Myrtle’s cousin, Kenny Bertrand. He’s widowed, isn’t a big drinker, and has never been one for making a fuss. Once Carter released him, Kenny went straight to Myrtle’s house. She said he was still freaked out.”
Myrtle was a dispatcher at the sheriff’s department and a main source for Ida Belle’s law enforcement information. If she thought her cousin was telling it straight, then I was happy to believe her.
“What else did he see?” I asked. “No visible wound?
Ida Belle shook her head. “Hooch was slumped over, so Kenny couldn’t see his face. He just felt for a pulse but said the body was already stiff. When he realized Hooch was dead, he jumped right back into his boat and called Carter. Myrtle pushed him for more information, but he was vague. I’m guessing he didn’t stomach it all too well and didn’t want to get into it in detail.”
Gertie sighed. “Kenny always was a bit of a pansy. He probably spent the rest of the time looking the other direction. I really wish people would man up in these situations. It’s way harder to get information when Carter and the ME are the only ones with the details.”
“Yes,” Ida Belle said. “All these regular citizens refusing to inspect dead bodies and disrupt crime scenes are definitely the problem.”
“I’m just saying,” Gertie said.
“Regardless of the strength of everyone’s stomach,” I said, “the biggest takeaway here is that it doesn’t sound like Carter thinks it was natural causes, which I find interesting.”
“Why?” Gertie said.
“Because it means that something about Hooch tipped Carter off,” I said. “And since there wasn’t something obvious, like a giant pool of blood, or a bullet hole through his back, or a hungry alligator snacking on a limb next to the boat, then we have to assume that it was something Carter has seen before, which is why he zeroed in on it to begin with.”
Ida Belle nodded. “So the real question is who wanted to kill Hooch.”
I shrugged. “This is where I have to defer to you guys. I’d never heard of him until today. Does he have any enemies? What does he do for a living? Is Hooch his real name? Any competition who would like to see him go away? Ex-wife? Girlfriend? Boyfriend? Kids that will inherit?”
Gertie frowned. “Given name is Boone Carre. He’s single. There’s an ex-wife, but she left town over a decade ago. One son. He left town with the ex-wife and I haven’t seen him since. No girlfriend that I’m aware of. My guess is that Hooch attracts the kind of women who get paid for their time.”
“Probably a good guess,” Ida Belle said. “He’s a Swamp Bar regular, last I heard.”
“What does he do for work?” I asked.
“He’s a contractor,” Gertie said. “Sort of.”
“How is one ‘sort of’ a contractor?” I asked.
“When you don’t show up half the time for the jobs you’ve scheduled,” Ida Belle said, “then you get the ‘sort of’ designation. I think he only works enough to get by and if he still has money in his pocket, then he just doesn’t show for any jobs he’s bid on until he runs out again.”
“Has he left anyone hanging in a bad way?” I asked.
“It’s definitely possible,” Gertie said. “Contractors usually take some money up front for materials. If he took money, then didn’t show, there’s probably some unhappy people walking around.”
“But unhappy enough to kill him?” I asked. “And if people know he has a reputation for doing this, would they give him a bunch of money up front?”
“My guess is no one is handing him over a large amount,” Ida Belle said. “I know a few who got him to make up a list of materials and they ordered them themselves. At least that way, if Hooch flaked, they could hire someone else but weren’t out anything.”
“Is it really so hard to find a contractor that people are willing to go through all that trouble?” I asked.
“Yes!”
They both answered at once and their expressions were a combination of aggravation and resignation. I made a mental note to learn construction and pray that nothing broke at my soon-to-be-acquired home that I couldn’t fix myself. Clearly, hiring a contractor in Sinful was an adventure I didn’t want to go on.
“Okay,” I said. “I get it, but are they all as bad as Hooch? I mean, if there’s someone more reliable, why does he get work at all?”
“Because there’s too much work for the more reliable people and sometimes things can’t wait,” Gertie said. “And then there’s still some folk that hire him because they feel sorry for him.”
“Why would they feel sorry for him?” I asked. “He didn’t seem all that pleasant today when he confronted Dixie.”
“Rumor has it his wife ran off with another man,” Ida Belle said. “His son was just a boy and went with his mother. I don’t think he stayed in touch with Hooch at all. People asked about him for a while, but Hooch always evaded the question. Finally, people stopped asking, figuring it was rude to keep pushing a se
nsitive issue.”
“That’s unfortunate,” I said, “but not a good enough reason for me to put up with his crap.”
“Me either,” Ida Belle said. “But neither of us would qualify for any Sympathetic Human Being awards.”
“If by sympathetic, you mean enabling bad behavior, then no.” I shook my head. “I guess the good news is, this one doesn’t have anything to do with us.”
“You don’t think—” Gertie started.
“No,” I said. “I don’t think there’s any rational reason for us to involve ourselves in a murder investigation, especially when we don’t even have confirmation yet. I’m sure Carter has been wrong before, and he’s likely to be wrong again. Today might be one of those days. But we don’t have a stake in this, and neither does anyone close to us.”
“Carter does,” Gertie said.
“That’s not a stake,” I said. “That’s his job.”
Ida Belle nodded. “I have to agree. At least for the moment, there’s no reason for us to go poking our nose in. No use winding Carter up and getting Fortune on the outs with him over nothing. She just got back. She has plenty of time to piss him off later on.”
Gertie gave Ida Belle an aggravated look. “You dragged me out of the shower for marginal gossip and to tell me we’re not doing anything about it? You could have waited for me to dry my hair, at least.”
“You’re right,” Ida Belle said. “I don’t know what got into me. Come on. I’ll take you home before you throw a hip out walking uneven in those shoes. I don’t expect it, but let us know if you get anything out of Carter.”
“I will.”
They headed out of the house and I watched as they climbed into Ida Belle’s Blazer. Something was still off. Ida Belle didn’t usually jump the gun on things, but the information she had was marginal, at best. Dragging Gertie over here, still dripping and half-ass dressed, wasn’t like her usual approach of logic and planning. I could only think of one reason for the rational woman I knew to do anything even remotely irrational.
Intuition.
Something was telling Ida Belle that this situation was all wrong and that things were going to go south somehow. If it was bothering her that much, then I had no doubt that our reason for poking into police business would surface sooner rather than later. I knew a little something about intuition. And when people like Ida Belle had a feeling this strong about something, it was usually right.
I just hoped the fallout wasn’t on someone I cared about.
Carter and I had a loosely agreed upon dinner planned at my house, which tonight meant frozen pizza and beer. Neither of us was fond of my cooking. Carter was the king of the grill, but all of the really great meals we’d shared together had been prepared by other people. I used to toy with the idea of learning to cook, but the one time I’d tried to get Gertie to show me something I’d fallen asleep on the counter before she got to the third step.
The bottom line was I was far more inclined to be the person bagging the dinner with a rifle rather than the person serving it on a platter. I wasn’t either person if it involved fishing. I still couldn’t get into it no matter how many times someone thrust a rod into my hands. But I might give hunting a whirl the next time something was in season.
Given the situation with Hooch, I figured Carter would end up working later than his scheduled quitting time, so I went about my normal nightly business of folding towels and cleaning my gun and had a snack to tide me over until he could get away. At nine o’clock, I finally got a text.
Eat without me. I’ll call you tomorrow. Lots going on. Sorry.
I frowned.
It wasn’t unusual for Carter to send me a text like this, but it was under these circumstances. We hadn’t spoken since this morning and I was positive he knew that news of Hooch’s death had already swept through Sinful. Which meant only one thing—he was avoiding me.
And that was very interesting. It was also troubling.
Carter was aware that Hooch was no one in particular to me. He probably figured, correctly, that I hadn’t even known of him before today. And Carter would also be aware that Hooch wasn’t a friend of Ida Belle and Gertie and had no family they’d need to concern themselves with if he died. So why avoid me?
I knew absolutely that Carter didn’t want me involved in police business, but he must have had a reason for thinking I’d butt in. Otherwise, he’d have shown up for late dinner and simply refused to answer my questions. The fact that he was ensuring that he didn’t see me or even speak to me was telling.
Something was up.
But what?
I sighed. I could have sat here all night and never come up with a solid reason. I was completely in the dark on this one. I couldn’t see any way that Hooch’s death, even if it was indeed murder, had an effect on me or Ida Belle or Gertie. Not beyond the general scope of having someone you knew murdered, at least. But I didn’t like it. Between Ida Belle’s intuition and Carter’s disappearing act, I had a feeling Hooch’s death was about to explode in our faces.
I was just about to call Ida Belle when my phone rang. It was a local number but one I didn’t recognize. I answered the call and a hysterical-sounding woman started yelling.
“Something’s happening!” the woman yelled. “She said to call you. Hurry!”
“What’s happening? Where? Who said to call? Who is this?”
“It’s Bernice Parker. Carter’s done lost his mind. He’s arresting Ally!”
Chapter Six
I ran for the kitchen, slowing only long enough to grab the keys to my Jeep before running into the garage. The door had barely made it completely up before I tore out of there in reverse. I didn’t even bother pausing to put it back down. In my haste, I completely miscalculated the curve at the bottom of my drive and ran right through part of my front lawn. But that didn’t even get so much as a blink out of me.
I floored the Jeep and took off down the road, tires squealing. I passed a couple cars on the way and thought I saw one driver give me the bird, but I didn’t care. All I could think of was Ally. Surely Bernice was wrong. But even as I thought it, I knew it wasn’t the case. Bernice lived across the street from Ally, and she was a lot of things, but hysterical and inaccurate weren’t two of them. She’d been panicked when she called me, and there was no way she’d even have my phone number if Ally hadn’t given it to her.
When I turned onto Ally’s street, my heart plummeted when I saw Carter’s truck in front of her house. Carter was at the curb, assisting Ally to his truck. Relief swept through me when I saw she wasn’t handcuffed, but it was clear from the look on her face that she didn’t have a choice about going with him. I slammed on my brakes, barely stopping before I hit his bumper, threw the Jeep into Park, and jumped out without even turning off the engine.
Carter glanced over at me and immediately looked away, but I could see how unhappy he was with my presence. He shot a dirty look at Bernice, who was standing on the sidewalk in front of her house, clutching her cell phone. Bernice put her hands on her hips and stared back at him, clearly not having any of it.
“What the hell is going on here?” I asked as I hurried over.
“He said he has to question me,” Ally said. Her eyes were wide and I could see that any minute, she was going to start crying. “He thinks I killed Hooch.”
“I did not say that,” Carter said. “I just need to ask you some questions, on the record.”
“At the sheriff’s department?” I asked. “At 9:15 p.m.?”
Carter opened the passenger door to his truck. “Get in,” he said to Ally.
I grabbed her arm before she could move forward. “Do not say a word. I will get you an attorney.”
Ally glanced at Carter, whose jaw was clenched, then looked back at me. “He’ll put me in jail if I don’t talk.”
“I’ve been there before,” I said. “It’s not that bad and you’ll be out by tomorrow.”
“But I didn’t do anything,” Ally wailed. “Why
do I have to go to jail?”
I could tell she was on the verge of hysterics and once she launched, it would be all over but high blood pressure and crying. So I did the only thing I could do.
I kicked the mirror off Carter’s truck.
They both stared at me as if I’d lost my mind, and I wasn’t quite sure I hadn’t. Only Bernice seemed unfazed as she yelled “Go girl!” from across the street.
“What the hell?” Carter exploded.
“That’s vandalism to an on-duty officer’s vehicle,” I said. “You can’t press charges tonight, so I guess you’ll have to lock me up with her.”
Ally threw her arms around me. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you did that.”
“Everything will be okay,” I said, carefully avoiding looking at Carter, who I’m sure was ready to kill me. “Just get in the truck and we’ll get it all sorted out later.”
I looked across the street at Bernice “Turn off my Jeep and call Ida Belle and tell her what happened.”
Carter groaned softly.
“You bet your butt I will,” Bernice said, and lifted her phone to dial. She shot one last dirty look at Carter, then stomped over to my Jeep.
“Let’s do this,” I said to Ally.
As I climbed in the truck, the only thing I could think about was that I hadn’t even had dinner.
Carter was completely silent as he ushered us into the sheriff’s department. Myrtle was on shift and gave us a startled look as we walked in. Clearly, she’d clued in that this wasn’t a social call. Ally stood in front of Myrtle’s desk, biting her lower lip. Carter looked at the two of us.
“Are you going to answer my questions?” he asked Ally.
Ally glanced at me and I shook my head.
“No,” she said quietly.
Carter sighed. “Myrtle, please escort Ms. Lemarque to cell number one.”
Myrtle rose from the desk and stared at Carter as only an older Southern woman could manage. “Carter LeBlanc, have you lost your mind? Do I need to call the paramedics or should I just call your mother?”