Reel of Fortune

by Jana DeLeon

  “You’re in the twentieth release of a bad horror franchise.”

  I laughed, then began to worry that maybe Ida Belle was onto something. “What are you up to?” I asked Gertie.

  “I’m not up to anything,” Gertie said. “I just might have booked us for some fun this afternoon—before I knew we were going to have a murder and overnight jail stays and all.”

  Ida Belle shot me a look and I could tell she was as nervous as I was. Gertie’s definition of fun could be anything from pedicures to a raft trip down the Amazon.

  “What kind of fun?” I asked.

  Gertie squirmed a bit in her chair. “Skydiving.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Have you lost your mind?” Ida Belle threw her hands in the air. “It’s official. You have a death wish.”

  “I don’t want to die skydiving,” Gertie said. “Hurtling toward the ground at breakneck speed is still far too long to reflect on all the things I didn’t get to do. When I go, I want to get struck by lightning. Something really fast and with no time to work in regrets.”

  “‘Breakneck’ is the operative word here,” Ida Belle said.

  Gertie rolled her eyes. “It’s not like we’ve never done it before.”

  “That was in Vietnam, and there wasn’t much choice as we couldn’t exactly land in enemy territory and offer them coffee. That was also so long ago our parachutes were probably made from dinosaur hides. You are not twenty years old anymore, regardless of what those silly affirmation quotes you read tell you.”

  I’d listened to the entire exchange in silence, mostly because Ida Belle had made all the same points I would have, except for the not-diving-since-Vietnam part. I hadn’t known they’d partaken in that sort of thing back then. It was yet another interesting fact about two women I knew better than anyone else on the planet, but also proved that I hadn’t scratched the surface in getting to know them and all their escapades. One of these nights, when we didn’t have a murder to solve, we were going to have to break out a twelve-pack and trade war stories.

  “Speaking for myself,” I said, “I’m not interested in making a jump. I’ve done it a million times already, so the thrill’s not really there, especially given that it’s unlikely anyone will be shooting at us while we drop.”

  “It is Sinful,” Gertie said. “There’s always the possibility that someone will make it more interesting. All this heat and a round of beer can make for peculiar behavior.”

  “You mean like naked boating?” I asked.

  One of the locals was known for her lack of boating attire. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the kind of build that people wanted to see naked, assuming you wanted to see someone naked and boating in the first place.

  Ida Belle gave her an alarmed look. “You weren’t planning on skydiving in the buff, were you?”

  “Of course not!” Gertie said.

  Ida Belle narrowed her eyes. “So what exactly were you planning on wearing?”

  “Clothes, just like any normal person,” Gertie said, but I noticed she didn’t meet Ida Belle’s gaze when she said it.

  We had the option, of course, to let Gertie set off on her falling-to-the-earth mission on her own, but that just wasn’t the way we rolled. And I knew, without a doubt, that nothing was going to keep her from doing what she’d set out to do. So we could either be there to mitigate damages on the spot or we could clean it up later. Either way, it was bound to get messy and I would ultimately be involved.

  “What time do we leave?” I asked.

  Ida Belle shot me a look of dismay but I could tell she’d come to the same conclusion I had. Gertie clapped her hands and bounced up and down in her chair, entirely too excited about doing something that could result in serious injury or even death.

  “So help me God,” Ida Belle said, “if you have a heart attack on the way down, I’m going to let Celia sing at your funeral.”

  “Celia’s not allowed in the Baptist church,” Gertie said smugly.

  I looked at the two of them. “Should I even ask?”

  “There was this issue a couple years ago with her running over Pastor Don with her car,” Ida Belle said. “She claims that she was looking for something in her purse and didn’t see him, but it was the day after he’d taken his turn at a revival that most everyone in Sinful had attended, and everyone knew Celia had taken issue with the content of his sermon.”

  “Pride? Hate? Having a daughter who was a blackmailing slut?” I asked.

  Gertie grinned. “Worse. Gluttony.”

  “Well, good grief, everyone who’s eaten a meal at Francine’s is guilty of gluttony,” I said. “I have no idea how people live in this state and aren’t guilty of gluttony. Before I had to go get arrested last night, I ordered a treadmill because it’s too darned hot to run and my pants are getting tight.”

  “A little tightness isn’t a big deal,” Gertie said.

  “My yoga pants,” I said.

  It was one thing for a pair of jeans to get a little snug. It was completely another when your elastic-waist cotton pants started to dig a little. No way was I going to become that agent who retired and ballooned up, but the food around here was nothing to scoff at. It was a natural enemy of the fit and those wanting to avoid clogged arteries.

  “Anyway,” Ida Belle continued, “Pastor Don convinced a judge that it was intentional based on Celia’s ranting at the revival the day before—all of which was caught on phone video—and the judge agreed and issued a restraining order.”

  “So Celia can’t go in the Baptist church,” Gertie said. “Not for another year, anyway.”

  “Which means if you die sometime after the next year,” Ida Belle said, “you run the risk of having Celia sing at your funeral, assuming you die from something stupid.”

  “Everything people die from is stupid,” Gertie argued.

  “Yes, but not necessarily of their own making,” Ida Belle pointed out.

  I put my hand up. “Stop. No one is dying. Not on my watch. It’s sort of a general rule of mine, and if I managed to pull it off in the Middle East, then I’m pretty sure I can manage one little skydive in Sinful, Louisiana.”

  I didn’t say I was certain.

  I was pretty sure Ida Belle noticed.

  The adventure Gertie had booked consisted of a private airstrip and a prop plane that was built before I was born. The Cajun running the Bayou Bombers show greeted us chewing on a toothpick when we pulled up.

  Midforties. Six foot even. Two hundred twenty pounds. Bad knees. Too many jumps or bad parachute packing.

  I asked to review the maintenance logs and the liability insurance before I would even consider boarding. Then I insisted that Bomber Bruce, as he’d asked to be called, pack a parachute for me so that I could ensure he was doing it properly. When I requested the logs, I saw the shift in Bruce’s expression and figured he was about to tell me to take a jump, just not from his plane. So I flashed my CIA credentials, and he narrowed his eyes.

  “You’re that broad who attacked Celia Arceneaux with her hat,” he said.

  I sighed. If that was what the locals were calling an attack, I was in trouble. “Guilty,” I said.

  He grinned. “I can’t stand that hypocritical bitch. Heck, you guys can jump for free. Any time you want. Just give me a holler.”

  Gertie hooted and bounced up and down. Ida Belle gave him a look that should have disintegrated him into dust on the spot. Once I pronounced everything aboveboard, we were ready to get on with the jump. Ida Belle seemed willing to go along with my judgment on the matter. Or she’d stopped caring if anyone died on the way down, including herself. Jury was still out.

  Bruce loaded the packs into the plane, then took out some spare ones and began the teaching part of the course. “Have any of you jumped before?” he asked.

  We all nodded.

  “Where did you do your jumps?” he asked. “I want to make sure you didn’t pick up any bad habits from my competition.”

  I started to
point out that any habits picked up from the competition couldn’t be too bad or we wouldn’t be standing here, but irony wasn’t overly popular in Sinful. Or easily recognized. Sarcasm often missed the mark as well.

  “I did my jumping with the CIA, mostly into the Middle East,” I said.

  He raised his eyebrows. “That’s hard-core. I was a Navy pilot, but we didn’t see too much drop time unless your plane went down. You could probably teach me a thing or two.”

  “Well, I’ve only jumped from one plane going down, so that probably works both ways. Hopefully it won’t be something we need to tap into today.”

  Ida Belle shot me a what-the-heck look. Bruce just laughed. “My insurance company frowns on me crashing planes, especially with customers in them,” he said.

  “There you go,” I said to Ida Belle and Gertie. “He has to bring us back alive or there’s a problem with his insurance.”

  “Got that right,” he said, and turned to Ida Belle and Gertie. “What about you ladies? You been jumping with that outfit over in Mudbug?”

  “No,” Ida Belle said. “We did our jumping with the military in Vietnam.”

  His eyes widened. “No shit? Well, hell, I got a whole lot of professionals here today. This is going to be a piece of cake. The gear probably looks a little different from when you two did your jumping, but the concept is still the same.”

  He covered how to deploy the chute and access the reserve in case things went sideways. Then he showed the toggles and explained how to use them to direct the chute as needed.

  “Where will we be landing?” I asked. The size and terrain of the landing spot was a much larger component of an easy landing than knowing how to direct the chute.

  “Right out there in the field. Got ten mowed acres, all flat. Worse thing that could happen out there is you roll in some fire ants, but I got a water hose here and some lotion that fixes that right up.”

  I looked out at the expanse of field and nodded. Unless those ants could open fire, this was probably going to be the easiest jump I’d ever made.

  And that scared me. A lot.

  This was Sinful. I’d attempted to cover all my bases. Everything appeared to be sound and all potential issues minimalized. But I couldn’t stop thinking that I’d missed something. And in Sinful, there was always something.

  “So, you ready to fly?” he asked. “I take you on a bit of a tour around the area first…to get your money’s worth and all. And people seem to like seeing the area from the sky. Things look different up here. Prettier, actually.”

  I nodded. That was one thing Bruce and I agreed on. Even the ugliest of areas could look interesting from the air. We all climbed in the plane and Bruce pointed at the benches we’d be sitting on.

  “When we get to the drop point,” he said. “I’ll call back and let you know to stage. Gertie, you’ll go first, then Ida Belle, then Fortune. Just leave a second or two between you. The air will do the rest. Watch your altitude and pull your chute when you reach 2,500 feet. There’s some occasional gusts of wind, but nothing that should set you outside the field.”

  I looked at the wind sock at the edge of the hangar. It was currently flopped down without so much as a ruffle. I hoped it stayed that way. At least until we got on the ground, then a breeze might be a pleasant change in this heat.

  “Go ahead and suit up,” Bruce said, “and I’ll get the plane fired up and ready to go. When you get your chute on, just take your seat. Gertie next to the drop door. Fortune across from her. Ida Belle, next to Gertie. That will put two of us per side which will keep the weight balanced out.”

  I had a moment of pause when he got to the part about Gertie being nearest the door, but there was a half wall there and a rail running from the half wall to the top of the plane. No way could she accidentally fall out. And if she got tossed out of her seat, around the barrier and out the door, then we had way bigger problems, and being out of the plane was probably safer than being in it.

  Bruce moved to the cockpit and started up the engines. Ida Belle and I reached for our packs and started putting them on. She turned around to hand Gertie her pack and groaned. I looked over and saw Gertie standing there, hands on hips and grinning like an idiot. But that wasn’t what had made Ida Belle groan. Her reaction was all about Gertie’s outfit, which was not the pair of slacks and pink blouse she’d been wearing when we boarded the plane.

  No. The perfectly good outfit had been shed and Gertie stood before us now decked out in a Wonder Woman costume.

  “How do I look?” Gertie asked.

  I opened my mouth to respond but had no words. Fortunately, Ida Belle had enough for both of us.

  “You look like a two-hundred-year-old woman wearing a kid’s pajamas,” Ida Belle said. “Cover yourself up before you make our eyes bleed.”

  Gertie gave her a dirty look. “I should have known you wouldn’t like it. You’ve been wearing the same jeans and button-up shirts since the ’70s. It’s like one day you just hopped off the fashion train.”

  “This is not the fashion train,” Ida Belle said, waving her hands up and down at Gertie’s costume. “This is a travesty of fabric.”

  “If that’s the fashion train,” I said, finally finding some words, “I’m getting off now. Like right now and before that stop.”

  Gertie shot me a look of dismay. “You too? I figured of all people you would get it.”

  “Get what?” I asked. “I’m sorry, but I’m really not seeing the point.”

  “It’s a superhero costume,” Gertie said, “and not just any superhero but the best female superhero. Since we met you and have been fighting crime, I feel a tiny bit like one of those superheroes. And since the best ones can fly, I wanted to wear this costume for my flight.”

  “Wonder Woman didn’t fly,” I said. I mean, I thought it was kinda BS that she didn’t, but I didn’t write the character.

  I looked over at Ida Belle and could tell by her expression that she was softening a bit. It was hard not to. Gertie was definitely a hero, and if wearing a Wonder Woman costume and jumping from a plane made her day, then who was it really hurting? It wasn’t as though anyone was going to see us but Bruce, and I had a feeling he’d seen his share of crazy. Probably a lot of it in the mirror.

  “Okay, but you put your other clothes back on before we drive home,” I said.

  “I suppose that’s fair enough,” Gertie said.

  Bruce looked back at us and did a double take when he saw Gertie. “You best land on your feet,” he said. “If you have to roll, that field grass is going to eat up your heinie. I’m ready to head out, if you guys will stop yapping and get geared up.”

  We all pulled on our chutes, then checked one another’s straps and took our seats. I yelled at Bruce and he gave us a thumbs-up and started the plane down the path to the runway. Gertie sat across from me, grinning like a five-year-old at her birthday party. Ida Belle gave her a sideways glance and shook her head. We made a turn onto the runway and the airplane increased speed.

  “Here we go!” Gertie said as the plane lifted off the ground.

  I had to give Bruce props. His takeoff was textbook. I wondered how he was on landings but since I was going to be handling that part myself, I wouldn’t be able to find out. We circled around the area, Ida Belle and Gertie pointing out landmarks as we went. But not the usual sort of thing, like a famous house or museum or statue. This was the Sinful version.

  “There’s the pond where the senior class went skinny-dipping and all got that flesh-eating bacteria on their privates.”

  “There’s Shorty’s old place. Looks like he still hasn’t rebuilt since that stampede of wild hogs tore it down.”

  “Look. That’s old Farm Road 882. We used have a still at the end until that s’mores accident in ’72.”

  I studied the topography as we flew, mainly because the perspective from the air was completely different, and I spent a lot of time being turned around on the water. Ida Belle knew the bayous and chan
nels like the back of her hand. I hoped that one day, I knew a tenth of what she knew. As it stood now, I only took my airboat up and down the bayou in front of my house if I was alone. Maybe into the lake, but never into the other channels. It was a surefire way for me to have to send up smoke signals, and the last thing I wanted Carter to have on me was that he had to rescue me from my own stupidity.

  When we circled back toward downtown, Billy turned around and yelled. “Going to get rough!”

  “What?” Gertie yelled back. “You’re up?”

  She jumped up from her seat and hopped in front of the exit. I leaped up to stop her but at that exact moment, we hit the patch of clouds that Billy had seen coming. The plane dropped, then bumped from right to left, pitching Gertie out the exit. I didn’t even hesitate before diving out after her.

  Chapter Eleven

  The clouds blocked my vision for a couple seconds, then I fell out of them and spotted Gertie below me. She appeared to be in good shape so far, her arms out and her body in good position. The question was where she was going to land. I looked down and spotted downtown Sinful just a bit to our west. Winds were out of the east, so it was likely she was going to land somewhere near downtown. That could be good or bad, depending on her exact landing spot. Landing in a backyard versus the middle of an alligator-infested bayou with limited access would be good. Landing on power lines or in someone’s lit barbecue pit would be very bad.

  Given my body positioning, I was closing the gap between us, which was the point of my jumping headfirst. Essentially, it allowed me to drop at a greater rate of speed than Gertie. I wasn’t trying to catch her in the air—this wasn’t the movies—but I did want to be as close as I could while still being safe myself when she landed. That way if there was any issue with the landing site, I’d be right behind her to help.

  The ground was rushing toward me and I checked my altitude. Any second now, Gertie would deploy her chute. We were still east of downtown a bit and the winds had remained mild, but once she pulled the chute, it wouldn’t take much wind to move her considerably beyond the downtown area. All I could do now was pray for no wind and hope she landed in a clear patch.