Swamp Spook

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Swamp Spook Page 9

by Jana DeLeon


  “As usual,” she said, “you’ve ruined everything. This is all your fault.”

  “It’s my fault there’s a storm?” I asked. “That’s a cool trick. Let me see how that works.” I lifted my hands in the air and looked skyward. “Oh Goddess of the Sky, I call thunder and lightning,” I chanted.

  A bolt of lightning ripped across the sky and struck the inflatable screen.

  I’m not sure who was more surprised—me, Celia, or everyone else standing there. A second later, the rain began to pour down on us and we all dashed for the picnic pavilions on each side of us. As soon as I reached the cement, I spun around in time to see a second bolt of lightning hit the ground at the edge of the woods. There was an earsplitting crack and a huge boom and a second later, a tree fell from the edge of the woods and into the park.

  Directly in the path of the sheriff and his running horse.

  I have to admit, no matter how many times I’d seen the old horse run, it still amazed me. I mean he looked as though he belonged in the mummy scene with Gertie. So did the sheriff, for that matter, and neither would need makeup. Then the old steed managed to take my respect to a whole different level by jumping clean over the fallen tree without even breaking stride. The sheriff pitched forward, and there was a moment when I was certain he was going to go over the front of the horse, trip him, and die from the horse tumbling on top of him. But somehow, he managed to hold on as the horse continued his sprint for the front of the park.

  I could see the sheriff pulling back on the reins but to no avail. The horse had obviously had enough of the nonsense and was hell-bent on heading back to his safe and dry stable. He barreled past the now-deflated inflatable screen and one of the lines got caught in his back leg. But that didn’t slow him down, either. He galloped for the street at full speed.

  Directly behind the state police, who were running ahead of him.

  The horse wasn’t going to win the Kentucky Derby, but he was still faster than humans. He shifted to the right and narrowly missed mowing down the cops as he sped by.

  But the trailing screen didn’t.

  The enormous piece of cloth was flying like a sail and wrapped completely around the two cops, then whisked them off across the park and into the street, where the horse finally ran out of steam. The storm was going full force but I swear I could still hear them screaming all the way across the park.

  “Should we go help?” Ida Belle asked.

  “I’m not going anywhere near that mess,” I said. “Besides, the cavalry has arrived.”

  Carter and Walter ran for the man-eating blob, and Walter pulled out a knife that probably made Ida Belle envious. As Carter pulled, he slashed, trying to free the men trapped inside. Finally, they emerged from the pile of cloth and I could see the older one yelling at Carter.

  The man who’d given Celia his coat stood off to the side, filming the fiasco with his phone. “I got it all!” he shouted. “The screaming like pansies and everything.” He looked entirely too pleased with himself as he trotted off down the street.

  “What a mess,” I said.

  “You shouldn’t have asked the goddess for lightning,” Gertie said and giggled.

  “Talk about a joke backfiring,” I said, but I noticed that several people under the picnic pavilion shuffled back from me a bit. Great. All I needed was for people to think I was a witch who could summon the weather.

  I turned around and looked at the crowd. “I did not do this. It was just a coincidence. If I could control the weather, I would have done the entire town a favor and sent that bolt of lightning down on Celia.”

  Most of them relaxed a bit and nodded, totally getting the logic in my statement, but a few still gave me wary stares. The rain began to lessen a bit and people emptied out of the pavilion, making a run for cars and homes. We probably needed to do so ourselves. The storm showed no sign of disappearing and I wasn’t about to spend the night sleeping on a picnic table.

  I saw Celia head out from one of the other pavilions, but not before she shot a dirty look at me and shook her fist. I was never going to hear the end of this.

  “Are you guys all right?” Marie stepped up beside me.

  “I am,” I said. “Until the townsfolk gather to burn me at the stake, anyway.”

  Marie laughed. “You do have a way of turning up the volume on things. What about you guys?” She looked at Ida Belle and Gertie.

  Ida Belle nodded. “Are you burned anywhere?” she asked Gertie.

  “I don’t think so,” Gertie said. “I mean, I have grass burns on my elbows from all the rolling, but I think I’m good.”

  “Thank God you didn’t have the purse of doom with you,” I said. “You would have blown the whole festival sky-high.”

  She nodded and turned to glance back at the tent, nothing left but a steaming pile, and shook her head. “What a waste of a good batch of popcorn.”

  I frowned and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. “Don’t move,” I said.

  Gertie froze and I shone the light from my phone on the back of her head. Ida Belle burst out laughing. A patch in her hair the size of a tennis ball was burned down to an inch in length right in the middle.

  “What’s so funny?” Gertie asked as she felt the back of her head. “Holy crap! Where did my hair go?”

  “It probably blew all over town with the popcorn,” I said.

  Ida Belle groaned.

  I leaned in closer. “Don’t worry,” I told Ida Belle. “It’s not that bad. The skin isn’t burned.”

  “That’s not what I was groaning about,” Ida Belle said. “You know what this means?”

  “She’ll need less shampoo?” I guessed.

  “She’ll get a wig,” Ida Belle said, her expression one of complete dismay.

  Gertie whirled around, her eyes lit up with excitement. “A wig! I’ve always wanted to get one but never pulled the trigger. Guess I have a reason to now.”

  “Or you could just shave the rest off to match,” I said, vivid images of Gertie in the wigs of her choosing flashing through my mind like a disco—loud, garish, and sparkly. It was sorta making me dizzy.

  “No offense,” Gertie said, “but you have the bone structure to pull that off. I don’t. So looks like we’re going wig shopping.”

  “Well, if this weather keeps up, we won’t have to worry about any more Halloween activities,” Ida Belle said. “At least not the outdoor kind.”

  “Some of it can be shifted to indoors,” Marie said. “I’m going to take off while I have a chance. You girls best get going.” She pulled her hoodie over her head and set off at a slow jog.

  “Is everyone okay?” Carter’s voice sounded behind me.

  I turned around and saw him standing at the edge of the pavilion, his jacket hood pulled over his head.

  “We’re fine,” I said. “Are Scream 1 and Scream 2 all right?”

  The exhaustion on Carter’s face multiplied tenfold and his shoulders slumped. “Yeah. Of course, they’re blaming me for this. Not that I have any idea how lightning falls under my control.”

  “That was Fortune’s doing, actually,” Gertie said.

  “Huh?” Carter asked.

  “I’ll explain later,” I said, not even wanting to get into it now. The potential repercussions might be enough to send him straight to Dr. Wilkinson’s office.

  “How’s the sheriff?” Gertie asked.

  “Probably halfway home by now,” Carter said. “He’s next up on my list of things to check on.”

  “Let us know if there’s anything we can do,” Ida Belle said.

  “Okay,” he said, and I could tell he was focused on other things. “You guys should try to get out of here before the rain picks up again. I’ve got to go deal with stuff.”

  He turned around without so much as a goodbye and headed across the park.

  “He doesn’t look good,” Ida Belle said, her voice low.

  “No,” I agreed. “I wonder if the autopsy results are in yet. Maybe that�
��s why the state police were here shadowing us.”

  Ida Belle shook her head. “No way to know. I got a text while we were slinging popcorn. The ME from New Orleans didn’t show until late this afternoon and he brought his own assistant. He closed himself up in an examination room and refused to let any of the regular employees inside.”

  “Can’t blame him,” Gertie said. “It’s got to be uncomfortable having the governor up his butt.”

  “Yeah, he’s gonna want to get this settled as soon as possible,” Ida Belle said.

  “If this ends up being murder, the state police are going to be mad enough to spit,” I said. “Especially after the attack of the big screen and them yelling like pansies. You know that video is going online as we speak.”

  “I feel bad for Carter,” Gertie said. “I wish there were something we could do.”

  “Me too,” Ida Belle said. “But right now, the best thing we can do for Carter is to give him and the state police a wide berth.”

  “Do you know how hard it is for me to sit still and keep my mouth shut?” Gertie asked.

  “Yes.” Ida Belle and I both spoke at the same time.

  “Trust me,” I said, “it’s not easy for me, either. The bureaucracy here is worse than the CIA, and that’s saying a lot. But if it weren’t for me, Carter wouldn’t be in this position to begin with.”

  “Oh, that’s bull,” Ida Belle said. “I mean, maybe things wouldn’t have gone down exactly this way, but Celia has been stirring up trouble for Gertie and me since she was born. You being here just provided her with a new target.”

  “Still, if he weren’t dating me,” I said, “Celia wouldn’t be including him in her roundup.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” Ida Belle said. “Carter may not have had all the facts when he first took an interest in you, but he’s been well aware of them for some time. And he knows about Celia’s fixation on you. He made his decision. You have to respect that, even if it’s causing him some trouble.”

  Gertie nodded. “I’m sure he figured it was coming. Not saying you’re trouble or anything, but you know how it is.”

  “Where I go, trouble seems to appear,” I said.

  “I kinda resemble that as well,” Gertie said.

  “Ha!” Ida Belle laughed. “Trouble doesn’t appear where you are, Gertie. It rides there in your handbag.”

  I grinned. “What do you say we make a run for it?”

  Chapter Ten

  With everything going on, I didn’t expect to see Carter that night. I figured he was up to his eyeballs in roving big screens, frightened horses, angry pansies, and probably a million new complaints from Celia, who I’m certain was convinced I’d summoned the weather. So after a long hot shower and a late dinner of mac and cheese and chocolate chip cookies, I settled into my recliner to watch a special on great white sharks that I’d recorded earlier that week. I figured given the late hour, the stress of the day, and my carbing out for dinner, I wouldn’t last much past the opening credits. But the recliner was comfortable and since I’d be sleeping alone, I didn’t need more space.

  Plus, I didn’t feel like walking all the way upstairs again.

  Merlin seemed perfectly content to curl up on the couch, so the two of us settled in for the documentary, and I’m pretty sure we were both snoring within minutes. A knock on my door had me springing out of the recliner and reaching for my pistol. I clutched the gun and scanned the room, trying to get my bearings, then finally remembered I was in my own living room. Good Lord, had I slept in the recliner all night? But one glance at the window let me know that night was far from over. Not even a sliver of light crept through the blinds. I glanced at the clock: 2:00 a.m.

  That knock was either Carter or the state police.

  I headed to the door and looked through the peephole. Carter was standing outside, looking like a running year of bad weather. I opened the door and waved him inside. He glanced down at my pistol as he stepped into the living room and shook his head.

  “If you bothered to answer your phone,” he said, “you wouldn’t have to show up at the door with a gun.”

  “My phone’s in the kitchen. I didn’t even hear it.”

  I slumped back down on the recliner and Carter sat on the couch. “I fell asleep here watching a shark documentary.”

  “That one on great whites that aired this week?”

  “Yep.”

  “How was it?”

  “The opening credits were good. Which leads me to my next question: What the heck are you still doing up? I figured you would have headed straight home after work and dropped into a coma.”

  He shook his head. “I wish I could have. Unfortunately, I’m just now finishing up.”

  “Seriously? Don’t tell me the state police wanted to press charges over being eaten by the flying big screen.”

  “They gave Walter some serious side-eye for the size of his knife but couldn’t really formulate a good charge for the knife or being wrapped up like boudin stuffing. Unfortunately, I think it was the icing on the pissed-off cake.”

  “And it all began with Celia and her mouth. I wonder how many times I’ll say that before I die.”

  “Plenty, I imagine. The rest of us have been saying it for years.”

  “Did you figure out how someone took the body from the morgue?”

  “The back door had been jimmied. No alarm system. No cameras. Anyone strong enough to roll 140 pounds could have done it.” He sighed. “I’m afraid things are about to get worse.”

  I sat up straight. “Did you hear something about the autopsy?”

  “No. The state police aren’t talking, but Wilkinson called them earlier, worked up about something. It might be nothing, but that remains to be seen.”

  “If Wilkinson is worked up then there must be something to it. I wonder what the cause of death is?”

  Carter shook his head. “All I know is that after Wilkinson called, the state police asked for my file on the call to Garrett Roth’s house. Then they informed me that I would make myself available to answer questions concerning Roth’s death but would otherwise in no way associate myself with anything involving Mr. Roth, Dr. Wilkinson, or any of the Roth family.”

  Anger coursed through my body. Given the pressure by the governor and the small-minded attitude of the state police, it wasn’t surprising, but it still made me mad. Carter didn’t deserve this. He was good at his job and unlike the state police, he cared about the people of Sinful. This was his home. The residents weren’t a bunch of random names on paperwork. They were friends and neighbors.

  “That’s crap,” I said.

  “Yeah, but there’s nothing I can do about it.” He blew out a breath and slumped back on the couch. “This could be very bad for me. I took the call at Garrett Roth’s house.”

  “Did you record the scene?”

  “Of course, but there was nothing to indicate foul play. The man was in his bed. There was no sign of a struggle. No forced entry to the house. They have an alarm, and his wife said it was set the night before. I suppose I could have verified that with the alarm company, but I didn’t see the point when the ME came back with natural causes.”

  “In the case of money, it’s often someone inside the house. Did you question the wife?”

  “Yes. She seemed shocked and upset, but I suppose a decent actress could pull off both of those.”

  “Sure. A decent actress could fool most people, but I think it would take better than that to fool you. So?”

  He frowned. “I think the shock was real. As for the upset, I don’t know. I mean, I think it was real enough but not as intense as I expect from a spouse, you know? It usually goes one way or the other—hysterics or numb. This middle-of-the-road thing seems odd.”

  “So she was surprised he was dead but probably not going to spend much time grieving.”

  “Yes. Maybe. Hell, I don’t know anymore. What if I got it all wrong? What if I missed something? If that man had gone into the grave someone wo
uld have gotten away with murder on my watch. It doesn’t exactly speak to my competence.”

  “I don’t think anyone can blame you for this. If there was no indication of foul play that you could see, you’re relying on the ME to make that call. And he didn’t.”

  “Yeah, well, some are questioning his reliability.”

  “And they should, but that’s still not on you. You didn’t hire him and you’re not the one retaining him. If he screwed up, then the blame should lie with his superiors.”

  “I know. I just don’t think that’s the way it will shake out.”

  I sighed. “I don’t either.”

  He leaned forward and looked directly at me, his expression so serious and slightly pained, and a million thoughts rolled through my head. Was he worried he’d be fired? Was he considering quitting? There wasn’t exactly a lot of work for someone with his skill set in Sinful. If he wasn’t a law enforcement officer, would he leave town?

  “What I’m about to say are words I never, ever thought would come out of my mouth. Never. Ever.”

  My stomach clenched. It was even worse than I thought. He was dumping me! I steeled myself, waiting for the death blow that I’d always dreaded might come.

  “I want to hire you,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I want to hire you and the Troublesome Twosome to investigate what happened to Garrett Roth. I know it’s a lot to ask with you being on the state police’s radar, but I don’t trust them to do their job, and my hands are tied.”

  I launched out of my recliner and rushed over to hug him. “You’re serious?”

  “Good God, how can you ask that? I just offered the devil a deal.”

  “And in this setup, I’m the devil?”

  He smiled. “You might not be the devil, but you can certainly raise hell.”

  Chapter Eleven

  At 10:00 a.m. the next day, Ida Belle, Gertie, and I were in Ida Belle’s SUV headed out for official private investigator business. Gertie had elected to cover her hair mishap with a giant straw hat with colorful flowers and fruit circling the band. Ida Belle hadn’t looked impressed.

 

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