by Jana DeLeon
“Look on the bright side,” I said. “If she’s audited, they might find the equipment list frightening enough to leave her alone. Anyway, it’s not much. Heck, it might only be symbolic. There’s a chance no one will ever hire me. This is Sinful.”
“People will hire you,” Ida Belle said. “The cases won’t be nearly as interesting as the stuff you used to do, and God willing, not as dire as the stuff we’ve gotten into this summer. But you’re former CIA. You’ll have business.”
Gertie nodded. “There’s plenty of things going on in Sinful—cheating husbands, missing cats, stolen recipes—”
“Cheating fisherman?” I asked and grinned, thinking of the last piece of police business we’d gotten in the middle of.
Gertie laughed. “You’d have to investigate everyone with a rod and reel.”
“Hey, I’m okay with it,” I said. “I’m okay with all of it. A healthy round of cheating husbands and missing cats sounds like the perfect semiretirement plan.”
“You’re too young to retire,” Ida Belle said. “Take it from someone who knows. You might not be looking for trouble, but it will find you. It gravitates to some just like Gertie gravitates toward fried shrimp.”
“You’re saying I’m a trouble magnet?” I asked. “That doesn’t sound very complimentary.”
“Oh, but it is,” Ida Belle said. “You see, I believe that the universe keeps things balanced by placing those with the abilities to right wrongs in the path of evil. And no matter where you’re standing, that path is going to run right through you.”
Gertie nodded. “You’re a superhero. I keep saying it.”
“Not tonight,” I said. “Tonight, I’m an executioner. And the only evil I see at this event better be fake evil in cheaply designed but expensively priced costumes.”
“I don’t know,” Gertie said. “Celia will be there.”
“Does she go as a boil on the butt of humanity?” I asked. “Or does she avoid questions by going right for the Satan look?”
“Neither,” Ida Belle said. “She goes as Rose Kennedy. Always has.”
“I don’t get it,” I said.
“Famous Catholic matriarch,” Gertie said.
“But Celia married a cheating louse and had a child who had questionable ethics and was a big ole sleaze.” I frowned. “Never mind.”
Ida Belle laughed. “Celia thinks the Kennedys are American royalty. She’s still mad because the Catholic church chose to participate in the festivities, so she insists on representing the religion with her choice of costume.”
“But she can’t go as a nun or the pope because that would be disrespectful,” Gertie said.
“So what does a Rose Kennedy costume consist of?” I asked.
“An ugly dress and an even uglier hat,” Ida Belle said.
“So…like most every day,” I said.
“Pretty much,” Ida Belle said.
“I went as Madonna one year,” Gertie said, “and told her I was also representing famous Catholics.”
“How’d that go over?” I asked.
“She yanked off my cone bra and attacked me with it,” Gertie said. “I still have scars.”
“So do I,” Ida Belle said.
I grinned. There really was no place like home.
Chapter Two
I pulled up to Carter’s house at 6:00 p.m., just an hour before I was due at the festival. The sheriff’s department had purchased candy to contribute to the cause and I was picking it up to haul with me to the event. I saw Emmaline’s car in Carter’s drive and smiled. I really liked Carter’s mother, and since I’d made my official return to Sinful, I hadn’t gotten to spend a lot of time with her. Between my involvement in things that weren’t my business and her busy schedule, we had been two ships passing.
She was taking art classes in New Orleans and had been on a long vacation to Italy. We’d only managed a couple of lunches, but I was hoping things would settle down for both of us soon and we’d be able to kick back one night so I could ply her with wine and get some stories on Carter. Preferably the embarrassing sort. It never hurt to have ammunition. Carter and I had sat her down right after my return to Sinful and filled her in on the real me. She’d been shocked and possibly a little frightened but took the entire thing well, considering.
As I walked up the sidewalk, I could hear arguing. Heck, people two houses over and inside with the AC running probably heard the arguing.
“I cannot believe you intend to parade that man around the festival,” Carter said. “He doesn’t belong.”
“He belongs because I invited him,” Emmaline said. “You are going to have to get used to the idea that Carlos is going to be around as long as I want him around.”
“I will never get used to the idea of some obnoxious used-car salesman dating my mother.”
My mouth dropped. That was it!
Back when I was embroiled in the fishing rodeo murder, Ida Belle, Gertie, and I had overheard Walter and Carter having an argument. Supposedly, Carter had hauled Walter into the sheriff’s department to question him as a suspect, but the conversation had seemed personal rather than business. I can still remember the anger in Carter’s voice when he yelled at Walter, ‘You should have told me.’
I’d bet anything I knew exactly what that statement meant now.
Walter had known Emmaline was dating and Carter was pissed at his uncle for not filling him in. For weeks now, Ida Belle had been trying to wheedle information out of Walter, but he hadn’t admitted to anything. And if Walter wasn’t willing to put Ida Belle in the loop, it was something big. Boy, had we totally missed the boat on that one.
Some trio of detectives.
I stood there for a bit, contemplating the knock-or-don’t-knock arguments. On the one hand, I might get to go inside and see the body language, but then the actual words didn’t leave much to imagine, so seeing how they were positioned probably wouldn’t add anything to the information I already had. On the other hand, my arrival would more likely stop the conversation altogether. Ultimately, my newly acquired small-town nosiness won out and I rapped on the door.
The yelling immediately ceased and a couple seconds later, the door was flung open and Carter stared at me then blinked, as if trying to determine why I was there.
“Candy?” I said. “The Halloween festival.”
His expression shifted to part aggravated, part realization, and he waved me inside. “I’ve got the bags on the counter. My mom was just leaving.”
“No. I wasn’t,” Emmaline said and moved forward to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “It’s good to see you, Fortune. We need to get together for dinner one night now that my class is over.”
“Her class,” Carter grumbled.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Clearly I’m interrupting a family moment. I’ll just grab the candy and get out of here.”
“Please stay,” Emmaline said. “Carter is just having a problem with the fact that I deserve a life and if that includes a new love interest, he’s going to have to get over it.”
“You met him at art class,” Carter said, “then went on a trip to Italy with him without even telling me.”
“I went to Italy with the class,” Emmaline corrected.
“He was still there,” Carter said. “You were off in some foreign country with a strange man.”
“You make it sound like I’m fifteen years old,” Emmaline said.
“Stop acting like it and I won’t,” Carter shot back.
I stood in completely silence. No way was I jumping in this fight. Might as well wrestle an alligator.
“He’s a used-car salesman,” Carter said. “I have no idea what you see in that.”
“He owns five used-car lots,” Emmaline said. “You’re deliberately making him sound like one of those scammers on those awful local television commercials.”
“If the shoe fits,” Carter said.
Emmaline threw her arms in the air and looked directly at me. “Do you think I
have the right to be happy? Even if that includes dating a used-car salesman?”
I froze. Talk about a no-win situation. “Uh, this isn’t really my…I mean, family dynamics and all.”
“It’s a simple question,” Emmaline said. “Yes or no.”
“But it’s not a simple question,” I said. “In fact, from where I stand, it might be the worst question anyone could ask me.”
She sighed. “So he’s trying to force his opinion on you.”
“No,” I said. “I always have my own opinion. I just figure it might not be popular with either of you, so I was thinking silence is my best option.”
“I would love to hear your honest opinion,” Emmaline said. “Regardless of what it is. I’m an adult.”
She shot a glance at Carter as she issued the last sentence.
Carter looked at me. “Go for it.”
“Okay, but I’m going to go ahead and pick up the candy now, and I take zero responsibility for what anyone thinks when I’m done,” I said. I snagged the bags from the counter, then faced the firing squad.
First, I looked at Emmaline. “Of course you have the right to be happy. Everyone does. And if you’re choosing to be, then good for you. Too many people choose to be miserable. Some of them live in this town. And since you’ve been widowed for a million years, I can’t see any problem with you dating. Owning used-car lots is hardly drug dealing or racketeering.”
Emmaline beamed at me and shot Carter a told you so look.
“That being said,” I continued, “you are a single, attractive woman who I understand hasn’t dated in some time. This man is a stranger to Carter, and he wouldn’t be doing his job as a son or a law enforcement officer if he wasn’t suspicious. Besides, I have it on good authority that Carter wouldn’t even be happy with you dating Jesus.”
Carter’s lower lip trembled and he finally smiled. “Maybe Jesus.”
Emmaline sighed and shook her head. Then she moved over to give Carter a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You’re a wonderful son, and I know you’re only looking out for me. How about I cut you some slack on being suspicious, and you be polite until you’re done running a background check or hiring PIs to hide behind his living room curtains or whatever else you have planned?”
“I’d just install cameras in his house,” Carter said. “Hiring a PI to hide behind curtains is too expensive.” He sighed. “Fine. I’ll be polite. I suppose that’s the least I could do.”
“The very least,” Emmaline said. “You have a week to dig up whatever you can find, but Carlos will be with me at the festival next Saturday.”
“Awesome,” I said. “A week is enough time to locate even Jimmy Hoffa. Now that we’re all friends again, I have to get out of here with the candy and get in costume. I’ll see you guys later. If this Carlos turns out to be a loser, come find me. I’m the executioner. I have a hatchet.”
Emmaline’s smile wavered a tiny bit as she looked at me. “You know, before I knew the truth about you, that statement would have been more funny and less scary.”
I grinned. “I wouldn’t want people to get too comfortable.”
“Wow!” Gertie said. “I’m rarely surprised, but Emmaline managed to keep that one under wraps. Good for her.”
We were in Ida Belle’s SUV on our way to the festival, and I’d just finished filling them in on the big secret that Walter had been keeping. I was looking at Gertie, not because she was talking, but because of her costume. It was really good. She was wrapped from head to toe in white bandages that had been discolored to appear aged. If sound hadn’t been coming out of her mouth, I might have thought she was a real mummy, or at least a good prop. It was also kind of funny to watch her talk, as the sound was there but her face barely moved.
“You did a really good job defusing that situation,” Ida Belle said.
“Oh, that won’t last,” I said. “Carter will crawl up that guy’s butt with a microscope. He’d really have to be Jesus to pass scrutiny.”
“True,” Gertie said. “Emmaline will eventually have to tell him to get over it because he’s not going to change.”
“And she will,” Ida Belle said. “Emmaline is a nice woman with superb manners, but she’s not going to let her son dictate how she lives.”
“No, she’s not,” I agreed. “Quite frankly, I think Carter’s overreacting. Clearly, Walter has known about it for a while, and if he thought there was something to worry about, he would have let that cat out of the bag a long time ago.”
Ida Belle nodded. “Walter is no fool. If he thought Emmaline was in any danger, he would have said something, even if it made her mad.”
“Anyway,” I said, “that’s one mystery solved.”
Gertie sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s the only one we had.”
“Give it some time,” Ida Belle said. “We’ve just hung out our shingle. And you know how Sinful is. Someone’s going to have to do it first, then everyone else will follow.”
“Maybe we should offer to do someone’s case for free,” Gertie said. “You know, to get the ball rolling.”
“It’s not the worst idea,” I said. “But we still have equipment to get set up, and there’s all that business nonsense that I hate. I’m not in any hurry for work just yet. To be honest, the last few weeks have been the most pleasant I’ve had in this town since I arrived.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Gertie said. “And you do deserve a break. Between everything that happened here and your own stuff with Ahmad, this summer was something else.”
“This summer was ten years of angst rolled into three months,” Ida Belle said. “Lesser people would have crumbled.”
Gertie nodded. “But we’re superheroes.”
I grinned. It sounded hilarious coming out of the mummy. “Not at the moment. At the moment, we’re all evil.”
“We got that covered too,” Gertie said. “We can just channel Celia.”
“Maybe I can scare her with my hatchet,” I said. “Does she know it’s me behind the mask?”
“Your name was on the list for the character,” Ida Belle said. “I thought it would be scarier if everyone knew it was you, given that your past is out and the rumors are flying.”
“Good call,” I said. A little fear was sometimes a handy thing.
Ida Belle pulled near the curb about a block from the park. “I think this is as good as the parking situation gets.”
Barriers blocked off the street directly in front of the park so that vendors could set up their carts. Cars were already starting to line the nearby streets.
“Most people who live in town will walk over,” Gertie said as we climbed out. “All these vehicles belong to the people working the festival. Supplies and all, you know?”
I opened the back of the SUV and looked at the huge bags of candy. “Don’t I know it. I’ve carted my weight in candy around this afternoon.” I hefted the bags out of the SUV, and Gertie pointed me in the direction of a large canopy with a bunch of folding tables set up in the middle. I deposited my bags on the table and went to help Gertie and Ida Belle unload more boxes and bags of sugary treats.
When we were done, Ida Belle walked me through the maze and showed me my spot. I had to admit, it was pretty cool. There was a head block with a fake body draped over it, sans the head, of course. The head was on the ground in front of the block staring up in horror. Fake blood dripped out of the neck stem.
“This is cool,” I said. “You guys really go all out.”
“The head fits back on with a small rod,” Gertie said. “Loosely, of course, but the shirt collar covers where it connects. You can place it back up there when you hear people coming, then whack it off when they round the corner. It’s awesome.”
“It sounds awesome,” I said. “You’ve thought of everything.”
“We’ve been putting together the props for these displays for a long time,” Ida Belle said. “Every couple years, we add something new. This year is the Nightmare on Elm Street display.�
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“They wouldn’t let me play Freddy Krueger, either,” Gertie said. “I have no idea why.”
Ida Belle stared at her. “Really?”
Gertie waved a wrapped hand at her, probably because she couldn’t manage to bend all her fingers except the middle one.
“Anyway,” Ida Belle continued, “we’ll start in about ten minutes.”
“Do I have lines or anything?” I asked.
Ida Belle shook her head. “The executioner is scarier if he just cuts off the head and stares silently.”
“I can see that,” I said.
“If anyone hesitates,” Ida Belle said, “just start toward them with the hatchet. That gets them moving along.”
“How long do we do this?” I asked.
“Three hours,” Gertie said. “But we break in the middle so everyone can use the facilities.”
“How long’s the break?” I asked.
“Thirty minutes,” Ida Belle said.
“That’s a generous amount of time,” I said.
“Do you know how long it takes for me to redo this after I pee?” Gertie asked. “I mean, I wrap my butt last and all, and with separate bandages, but it’s still a real pain, especially in a tiny stall.”
“No one wants to see your bare butt wagging around the bathroom,” Ida Belle said, “so just keep all that business in the stall.”
“I’m wearing holiday underwear,” Gertie said. “I don’t know why everyone gets so put out over these things.”
“It’s a real mystery,” Ida Belle said.
I looked around the maze. “So where is Gertie?”
Gertie held up a wrapped hand. “Right here.” Then she started giggling. “I crack myself up sometimes.”
Ida Belle shook her head. “This way. Might as well give you the full tour.”
We worked our way through the maze, Ida Belle pointing out the dead-end avenues as we went. I was a little surprised at the difficulty.
“Is the maze the same every year?” I asked.
“No,” Ida Belle said. “The scenes are the same except for the new additions, but the maze itself changes from year to year. One of the locals is a civil engineer. He’s a big Halloween junkie so he puts together something for us. Has blueprints and everything.”