by Jana DeLeon
“Because you can only hunt at night with a dog,” Gertie said.
“He’s a thousand years old,” I said. “We had to lift him into the truck. I seriously doubt he’s up to a trek through the woods.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Ida Belle said. “We can always say we brought him to hunt and he got tired or injured.”
“Or just refused to wake up,” I said, speaking louder than usual in order to be heard over his snoring.
“Regardless of the reason,” Ida Belle said, “we have our cover. And it’s one that even Carter can’t argue with.”
“Don’t we have to have permission from the owner of the land?” I asked. Surely you couldn’t randomly shoot things on other people’s property. Not even in Louisiana.
Ida Belle nodded. “It so happens that I have a standing agreement with Young Huck to hunt his land. I gave him a call this evening to let him know we’ll be out there and he might hear gunfire.”
“So basically, like any other night in the woods of Sinful,” I said.
“More or less,” Ida Belle said. “But he won’t call the police about it since I warned him ahead of time.”
“Or come out on the porch and start firing his own weapon,” Gertie said.
“That’s important,” I agreed.
“Hang on,” Ida Belle said. “It’s off-roading time.”
Technically, it was considered a road, like many other dirt paths through the Louisiana wilderness, but the term was applicable in the loosest form possible. I grabbed on to the door handle and braced my feet on the floorboard, trying to keep from bouncing off the seat every time we dipped in and out of the huge holes. When we hit a flat stretch, I glanced back and saw that Bones still hadn’t stirred. I was fairly sure he’d been completely airborne a time or two, but apparently it hadn’t fazed him.
Finally, the bone-jarring ride came to an end when Ida Belle pulled into a tiny clearing. I could see a sliver of light through the trees and figured that must be Young Huck’s place. I worried for a minute that he was still awake, but given his age, he might have been asleep since early afternoon and considered midnight morning. He was probably drinking coffee and wondering why the sun wasn’t up yet.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Gertie said. “Or off the road, as the case may be.”
We climbed out and went around to the back of the truck. I killed at least fifty mosquitoes in those ten steps. I’m pretty sure I tripped over one of their carcasses. Ida Belle opened the back of her SUV and doled out the .22 rifles. Gertie pulled on a backpack, which she claimed was extra ammo. Based on the look she gave Gertie, Ida Belle wasn’t any more convinced of that truth than me, but apparently neither of us wanted to check the bag. Besides, Gertie was expecting just that sort of check and had probably hidden the real contraband somewhere on her body. No way was I frisking a senior citizen to confiscate a stick of dynamite. It wasn’t like it would make a difference anyway. She seemed to have an endless supply.
Ida Belle handed out the flashlights and shook Bones a couple of times for good measure. He flopped over, farted, and continued to snore. She lowered the back window on the SUV and filled a bowl with water.
“In case he wakes up,” she said.
“More likely, he’ll keep sleeping and five million mosquitoes will get in that water and breed ten million more of them,” I said, and waved at the woods. “Lead the way.”
Ida Belle checked her compass and we set off into the woods, perpendicular to the road. With the dense brush and minimal light, it was slow going. So slow that I began to wonder if we’d arrive before morning. Finally, Ida Belle put her arm out to stop us.
“Turn off your lights,” she said.
Gertie and I clicked off our flashlights and squinted into the inky black. I couldn’t even make out Ida Belle and I knew she was only inches in front of me.
“Reach out and grab the back of my shirt,” Ida Belle said. “Gertie first, then Fortune. I’ll get us to the road. Remember to lift your feet as you walk.”
“What the heck are you talking about?” Gertie asked. “I always lift my feet to walk. Everyone does.”
“Lift them like you’re marching,” Ida Belle said.
Gertie and I bumped around until we’d formed a single line behind Ida Belle, then she started to inch forward. I hoped she had a great memory because no way could she possibly see anything. The trees were close together and full of moss, blocking out any chance of moonlight guiding our way.
Finally we moved forward a couple of steps, then stopped.
“Stop kicking me in the butt,” Ida Belle said.
“I’m not kicking you,” Gertie said. “That’s my knees.”
“Well, march lower then,” Ida Belle said.
“This would be easier if we had night-vision goggles,” Gertie said.
“Then you shouldn’t have dropped Fortune’s and broken them,” Ida Belle said. “Can’t exactly pick up a new pair at the General Store.”
“If I hadn’t dropped them,” Gertie said, “I would have fallen out the window.”
“Then you shouldn’t have been spying on Cindy Thompson in her backyard,” Ida Belle said.
“I wasn’t spying on Cindy,” Gertie said. “I was spying on that hunk of a guy she’s dating. They were totally naked in the swimming pool. I bet Susan has no idea her high school daughter is cavorting with naked college guys in their pool when Susan’s at choir practice.”
“And we’re not going to tell her,” Ida Belle said.
I grimaced and wished I could have brought my noise-canceling headphones. Gertie had fessed up to dropping my night-vision goggles, but she hadn’t gone into details then. I wished she hadn’t now. We continued and counted twenty steps before Ida Belle stopped again.
“There,” she said. “Look straight ahead.”
I stepped to the side and peered around her. The tree line ended and I could see a bit of moonlight shining over an open area. I hoped it was the road, or even better, Hooch’s front lawn. We stepped up to the edge of the trees and took a look. I could make out a structure about twenty yards to our left that had to be Hooch’s place.
Bingo.
I scanned the area surrounding the structure but didn’t see a vehicle or any telltale lights to indicate that someone was lurking around.
“No car,” Gertie said.
“I don’t see any light or movement,” I said, “but we need to get closer to be sure.”
“I agree,” Ida Belle said. “Deputy Breaux or someone else Carter drafted could have come by boat. Might even be around back if they’re walking the perimeter.”
“Or sitting quietly in the dark if they’re wanting the element of surprise,” Gertie said.
“Can one really sit quietly in the dark with the mosquitoes around here?” I asked. “Wouldn’t you hear slapping or cursing?”
“Let’s find out,” Ida Belle said. “Stay just inside the tree line until we can get a better look at the house.”
We took a step back into the woods and began the slow creep toward the shack. At least we had a bit of moonlight this time. It wasn’t much, but any amount of light was better than the inky black we had before. And my eyes were adjusting rapidly. I could see some distance, even in the dim light. But as we moved closer, I never caught sight of another person. Finally, we stopped directly in front of the structure.
“Nothing,” Gertie said. “Maybe we got this all wrong. Maybe there’s nothing in there that Carter’s worried about in regard to the case. Maybe he’s just covering his butt for the succession courts.”
Ida Belle nodded. “Seems that way. If Carter suspected there was evidence in the house, he would have posted someone here.”
“He doesn’t have that many people, though, and he’s not about to call the state for help,” I said. “He and Deputy Breaux were working all day.”
“And Sheriff Lee can’t hardly stay awake past 6:00 p.m.,” Gertie said.
“He could have gotten some backup from
another department close by,” Ida Belle said. “Worst case, he would have jacked Sheriff Lee up on coffee and had him sitting here. All he really needs is a deterrent. Anyone with nefarious business in mind usually sets their eyes on law enforcement and heads the other way, even if they’re sleeping.”
“So it looks like we’re clear,” I said. “What’s first?”
“Inside,” Gertie said. “If we can find paperwork from any geological studies, we don’t have to poke around in the dirt looking for signs of movement. Besides, there’s probably fewer mosquitoes inside.”
I pulled a small set of lock-picking tools out of my back pocket, motioned for everyone to put on their latex gloves, then handed Ida Belle my gun as we walked up onto the porch. “I’m going to need some light,” I said.
Ida Belle turned on her flashlight and directed it at the lock. “Keep lookout,” she said to Gertie.
I made quick work of the old, cheap lock and we headed inside, closing and locking the door behind us. Ida Belle shone her light around the small space and I blanched.
“It looks like an episode of Animal Head Hoarders,” I said.
“And beer cans,” Gertie said. “Hasn’t he heard of recycling?”
“I’d settle for a trash can,” Ida Belle said, “but it appears our friend Hooch wasn’t big on clearing or cleaning.”
“This is why I always bring gloves,” I said. “It’s not all about the fingerprints.”
“How do you want to divvy this up?” Gertie asked.
“There’s three main rooms,” Ida Belle said. “Gertie, you take the bedroom. I’ll take the kitchen, and Fortune can take the living room.”
“Why do I have to take the bedroom?” Gertie groused.
“Because Fortune and I are the better shots,” Ida Belle said. “So if anyone comes through that door that needs shooting, I want one of us on the other end of the gunfire.”
Gertie headed off to the bedroom without argument, but then, she couldn’t really argue against reality. I shone my flashlight around the living room, trying to decide which pile of junk to start with. Finally, I figured I’d begin at the television console and work my way around the perimeter of the room, then tackle everything in the middle.
Thirty minutes later, I’d gone through stacks of old hunting magazines and shaken two years’ worth of old TV Guides to make sure nothing was stuck in the pages. The only thing I had left was the drawer on the end table. I pulled it open and found twelve television remotes.
“Good Lord, he really doesn’t throw anything away,” I said.
“Some of the food in this pantry expired two years ago,” Ida Belle said. She turned to look at me. “Anything?”
I shook my head. “Not a single personal piece of paper anywhere. I mean, besides food wrappers. The man lived on Twinkies.”
Ida Belle nodded. “It was darn near impossible to lay eyes on him that he didn’t have one in his hand. Been that way since he was a kid.”
“You find anything, Gertie?” Ida Belle headed for the doorway to the bedroom that was off the kitchen.
“Bunch of girlie magazines,” Gertie said. “I accidentally stuck my hand in a pile of dirty underwear. I’ll bleach it when I get home, even though I’m wearing a glove.”
“Yuck,” I said as I stepped up behind Ida Belle and peered into the bedroom. It made the living room look like paradise.
“Why didn’t you notice it was underwear before you shoved your hand in it?” Ida Belle asked.
“It was balled up under the bedcovers,” Gertie said. “What kind of laundry system is that?”
“The disgusting man kind,” Ida Belle said. “Anything personal—cash, legal documents, deed?”
“A plastic container of quarters in the nightstand,” Gertie said. “Maybe a couple bucks’ worth. And this box of old letters and some photos shoved under the bed.” She handed Ida Belle a shoebox.
I looked over as Ida Belle riffled through the letters and photos. “These letters look old,” she said.
“They are,” Gertie said. “I looked in all the envelopes to make sure something else wasn’t slipped inside, but it looks like correspondence from one of Hooch’s relatives during the First World War.”
“I never took Hooch for the sentimental type,” Ida Belle said.
“More likely he’s the never-throw-anything-out type,” I said.
“True,” Ida Belle said. “Are you almost done?”
Gertie nodded. “I just have that wardrobe left.”
She headed to the end of the bedroom and flung open the doors of a huge wardrobe that stood in the corner.
“Jesus H. Christ, it’s a skunk!” Gertie screamed.
Chapter Seventeen
Gertie whirled around, tripping over her own feet as she tried to flee the room. Ida Belle and I dashed for the front door and ran outside into the middle of the lawn.
“He got me!” Gertie ran out on the porch, flailing around like she was warding off an attack of birds.
“He’s right behind you!” Ida Belle yelled. “Get off the porch!”
“I can’t see,” Gertie said. “The fumes are killing me.” She took off running but missed the steps by a good five feet and fell straight off the porch and into a set of unkempt hedges. The skunk scurried down the stairs and hurried off under the house.
Gertie thrashed around in the bushes and finally crawled out. We probably should have helped her out, but with the skunk lurking just under the house and Gertie already stinking to high heaven, neither of us was anxious to get in the mix.
Finally, she crawled out of the bushes and staggered to her feet. Ida Belle and I both covered our noses as she walked up.
“That is horrible,” I said.
“How was I supposed to know there was a skunk in the wardrobe?” Gertie said. “Point of the matter, why the hell was a skunk in the wardrobe?”
“I couldn’t even begin to guess,” Ida Belle said, “but it’s a good thing you opened it up. The poor thing could have died in there before Carter got around to letting people in the house.”
“That skunk is not a poor thing,” Gertie said. “And it would have served Carter right if he’d taken the shot himself with the way he’s acting lately.”
“Regardless, we have a problem now,” Ida Belle said. “First off, we have to retrieve our guns and your pack and close that door. Then we have to figure out how to get you home. I’m thinking about strapping you on the roof of my SUV.”
“I’m not riding on the roof,” Gertie said.
“Well, you’re not riding inside, either.”
I shook my head and hurried into the cabin to retrieve our belongings while the two of them sorted out the travel arrangements. I wasn’t excited about the prospect of getting into a vehicle with Gertie, but I couldn’t see strapping her to the roof as a viable option either. I mean, it was if no one saw us, but we rarely managed to do insane things without someone seeing.
As I grabbed Gertie’s pack, I glanced over at the wardrobe. The entire bedroom reeked of skunk and I was going to guess the wardrobe had gotten a good dosing, but Gertie hadn’t had a chance to check out the contents without fleeing. What if the important thing we were looking for was inside? We’d already gone through all this trouble. No point in leaving empty-handed.
I pulled both doors completely open and shone my light inside. At the back of the wardrobe at the bottom, I saw a hole that went straight through the wardrobe and the wall. That explained the skunk occupation. It also gave him a way to come back in and refire, which meant I needed to hurry. I riffled through the drawers but all I found was a meager supply of holey underwear and socks.
The hanging garments were also sadly sparse. A couple pairs of blue jeans, some stained T-shirts, a couple of flannel button-ups, and a camo jacket. A box of shotgun shells sat in the corner of the wardrobe, and I wondered briefly where Hooch’s gun was as I hadn’t seen it during my search. But then, he might have had it with him during the fishing rodeo, which meant Carter
had confiscated it. Or Carter might have taken it when he checked Hooch’s house to ensure no one helped themselves to a free firearm. He had enough problems with the ones that were bought and paid for.
I checked the pockets of the jeans and came up with nothing but more Twinkie wrappers, but in the jacket, I found a piece of paper. It was folded over and over until it had formed a small square. I unfolded it and directed my flashlight on it, figuring it was probably nothing, but my pulse shot up when I saw the sender.
Lassiter Drilling Services.
* * *
“Mr. Carre,
We received your email and are interested in speaking with you. Please contact us at the following number at your convenience to arrange a meeting.”
* * *
Then there was the contact information.
I placed the letter on the bed and took a picture of it with my phone. I would remember the details, but it never hurt to have proof for everyone else. Unless, of course, Carter found a reason to take my phone. Then I’d have to explain why I had a pic of a personal document addressed to Hooch, taken after midnight at a time when Hooch’s house was under the control of the sheriff’s department.
No big deal.
I stuffed the letter back where I’d found it, closed the wardrobe, and hurried outside with our belongings. I shoved Gertie’s pack at her and divvied up the rifles.
“We need to get out of here,” I said as I pulled off my gloves and motioned to them to do the same. “That was an awful lot of yelling. If Carter has anyone nearby, they’re going to come running.”
I figured telling them about the letter could wait until we were safely back in my house. I didn’t want any more delays. Not out here in the woods with the mosquitoes and skunks and the potential for arrest.
Gertie pointed her finger at Ida Belle. “Well, tell her I’m not about to—”
I clamped one hand over Gertie’s mouth and held up a finger. “Someone’s out there,” I whispered, and clicked off my flashlight.
“Where?” Ida Belle asked as she extinguished her light. Gertie had turned hers off with all the flailing, so now we were back in the dim moonlight. I pulled them toward the tree line, then paused just inside it.