by Jana DeLeon
Under the bright fluorescent lights, Gertie looked even more ridiculous than she had in the dim light outside. For starters, the habit was too big for her head and the front of it kept slipping over her eyes. The collar appeared to be strangling her, and she kept coughing. The cross she wore was so large that the top started at the base of her neck and continued almost to her midsection.
“Why is that cross so huge?” I asked.
“I got the costume from one of those vampire-hunter stores,” Gertie said.
“Are you supposed to use the cross to knock the vampire out?” I asked. “And what are you holding?”
“A Bible,” Gertie said. “No nun is complete without her Bible.”
I stared down at the black book. “Uh-huh. Why do you need both hands to hold it?”
“I might have hidden a couple things in it,” Gertie said.
“What things?” Ida Belle asked.
“Nothing you need to know about,” Gertie said. “If everything goes as planned, we won’t need any of them.”
Ida Belle didn’t looked convinced, but short of wresting the fake Bible from Gertie’s two-handed grasp, we weren’t going to find out what she was hauling. She’d had her purse in the car, so the answer was “potentially anything.”
“Let’s get moving,” Ida Belle said. “If we can get out of here before the clerk comes back, that would be optimum.”
We headed to the table that was piled high with boxes and stacks of paper and started shuffling stuff around.
“Here it is,” Gertie said.
“You sure it’s hers?” I asked.
“Pretty sure.” Gertie held the laptop up where we could see the “Celia the Great” sticker on the side.
“She had stickers made,” I said. “Wow.”
“The great what is the question,” Ida Belle said, “and there are so many options.”
Gertie nodded. “Great pain in the butt.”
“Great liar,” Ida Belle said.
I took the laptop from Gertie and opened it before they got too carried away. Words that described Celia was a long and unpleasant list. I opened the laptop and the password box popped up.
“Of course she has a password,” Gertie said.
“No worries,” I said, and typed in celiathegreat. The password box disappeared and the operating system started powering up. I looked over at Ida Belle, who rolled her eyes.
“Okay,” I said, and clicked on Facebook. “Let’s go see who the great idiot has been messaging with.”
It didn’t take long to find what we were looking for. Mainly because there was only one message, from a corporal named Jimmy Barlass. Either Celia deleted messages once the conversation was over or people avoided messaging her at all. I was going with option number two.
I opened the message thread and we all leaned over to look at the exchange.
I hope you got that photo I sent of me in my new green dress.
Yes. The shade of green brings out the sparkle in your eyes. I have never seen you look so beautiful. You should always wear that dress.
I looked up. “Is that the baby-shit-green dress?”
“Probably,” Gertie said. “It’s the only new one she has.”
I grimaced and looked back at the screen.
I promise to wear it whenever we meet. Unless, of course, I’m not wearing anything.
“I’m going to be sick,” I said.
“Me too,” Ida Belle agreed. “I shouldn’t have had Italian for dinner.”
“I’m thinking we all should have skipped dinner,” I said.
“Look,” Gertie said. “He’s talking about money.”
I have leave coming up soon. I would love to see you, but funds are tight right now. I send everything I make back home for Mother’s care.
You are such a wonderful son. Your mother raised you well. If money is all that is keeping you from visiting, I can send you the amount you need to get home.
You are very kind. The military will get me home to my mother. I just wouldn’t have the funds to see you once in the States. Perhaps you could visit me in Virginia.
I’m afraid my duties as mayor prevent me from leaving Sinful right now. How about I send you the money to visit me here? I could get away for a couple of days to New Orleans. You’d love the city.
“And here we go,” I said.
Ida Belle shook her head. “This is ridiculous. How can she be so silly?”
If you wouldn’t mind, that would be incredible. Five thousand should cover everything.
I blew out a breath. “Five thousand dollars? To get him from Virginia to New Orleans? Is Richard Branson personally picking him up?”
“He’s got an angle,” Gertie said, pointing at the screen.
Five thousand seems an awful lot.
It’s not the trip that would cost so much. I can drive there, and gas would be very little. It’s Mother. She needs a treatment for her cancer that Medicare won’t cover. The doctor said it would relieve eighty percent of her pain. The cost is $4,500 and I don’t have that kind of money. But I couldn’t go to New Orleans with you, knowing she was there suffering. I will probably try to pick up some construction work while I’m home to see if I can make the money.
“The man has no conscience,” I said.
“I hope his mother’s already dead,” Gertie said. “I always figure this sort of thing comes back to haunt you if you’re doing wrong.”
“Karma does have a great sense of irony,” Ida Belle said.
“Well, that’s it,” I said after I’d scanned the last of the messages. He gave her a PayPal address and she said she’d send the money the next day. After that, nothing. She sent him five messages with no response.
“Same MO with the ‘taking care of Mother’ plea,” Ida Belle said. “The only difference is this time the profile hasn’t been deleted. Click over and let’s take a look.”
I clicked on Jimmy’s name and it took me to a profile page with a picture of a group of military men standing in front of a tank. It was clearly overseas.
“Jimmy is the one on the end,” Ida Belle said.
I saved his bio picture to the desktop, then opened a search page and did a reverse-image search. Immediately, a Facebook page for Corporal Eddie Spencer popped up. I clicked on the profile and checked out the photos.
“That’s Jimmy,” Ida Belle said.
I nodded. “Except Eddie is legit. Six hundred friends. Facebook history that goes back three years.”
“And a wife,” Ida Belle said, and pointed to the relationship status.
“I think we can safely assume that Eddie Spencer is not the catfish. He was just another good-looking guy in uniform.”
Gertie frowned. “How many of these people do you think there are? I don’t mean good-looking guys in uniforms. I mean these scammers?”
“Thousands?” I said. “Tens of thousands. I have no idea.”
“Well, there’s only one in Sinful,” said Ida Belle, “best we can tell, anyway. So that’s the one we concentrate on.”
“We still don’t have anything to go on,” I said. “All this did was confirm Beulah’s story and our suspicion that it’s the same man working all the women.”
“Check her email just to be sure there’s nothing else,” Ida Belle said.
I clicked over to her email and saw an outgoing email to “eddietheman” at a Gmail address.
“Eddie the man?” Ida Belle said. “When we find this guy, I’m going to shoot him. I’m just letting you know up front.”
“You’re not hurting my feelings,” I said.
“Mine either,” Gertie said. “In fact, I’ll load the gun.”
Eddie,
I’m attaching the pictures I mentioned last week. I hope you find them to your liking.
Love always,
Celia
I clicked on the attached folder and the screen came alive with images. Two selfies of Celia in the horrible green dress and one with Celia mostly out of the green dress
.
“My eyes!” Gertie cried.
I looked over at Ida Belle, who’d closed her eyes and had an expression as if she’d smelled something rotten.
“I never thought I’d say this,” Gertie said, “but the dress was better. Close those down before one of us needs therapy.”
“Too late,” Ida Belle moaned.
I turned my head sideways a little and squinted so that I wouldn’t have to take in the photos with perfect vision, then closed the Internet browser and shut the laptop.
“Maybe,” Gertie said, “we should keep a copy of those pictures. For security purposes.”
“What security purposes?” I asked.
“The kind where she stops bothering us,” Ida Belle said.
I considered this for a moment. Getting Celia off our butts would be awesome, and I had no problem with a little blackmail, especially if Celia was the target, but it wasn’t worth the other risks. “No,” I said finally. “I can’t email them because it could easily be traced.”
Gertie opened her Bible and pulled out a USB drive. “I thought just in case.”
I looked over at Ida Belle, who shrugged. “It’s a lot less risky than shooting her,” she said.
I took the USB drive from Gertie, opened the laptop, and squinted again. Once the pictures were saved, I handed her back the drive, shut everything down on the computer, and stuck it back in the box where Gertie found it.
“Since we’re here,” Gertie said, “why don’t we check on the audit?”
“Check how?” I waved a hand at the table. “This place is a mess. We wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“She’s right,” Ida Belle said. “Besides, Celia’s laptop is the only one in the room, but I’m willing to bet they’re not using an abacus to tally this stuff up. I bet the auditors take their laptops with them when they head up to their rooms at night.”
Gertie looked disappointed but didn’t disagree. “Then I guess all that’s left to do is find Winky and make sure he’s not carrying on with another woman.”
“I’m not following him around all night,” Ida Belle said. “We locate him once, and if he’s sleeping or drinking or dancing with chickens, I don’t care. As long as we see him alone, our job is done.”
“Shirleen doesn’t expect us to follow him all night,” Gertie said. “We just need to watch him long enough to report back about something that he did, and I think Shirleen will be all right with that.”
“Great,” I said. “So where do we find Winky?”
“Shirleen said the entrance to the maintenance room is at the back of the lobby behind a screen,” Gertie said.
“Let’s hope the desk clerk is still sleeping,” Ida Belle said.
I nodded. “And not with Winky.”
Chapter 7
I crept down the hall and peered around the wall at the desk. The clerk was nowhere to be seen and the sign still read “Back at 10:15.” I waved to Ida Belle and Gertie and we all hurried across the lobby to the back, where a worn set of panels with Chinese dragons on them stood. On the other side of the panels was a door stamped with the word “Maintenance.” This was the place.
I tried the handle, but it was locked. I gestured to Gertie, who handed me the key. I unlocked the door and pushed it open an inch, peering inside. The room was about fifteen by twenty with tables on each side that held appliances in various states of repair. A desk on the back wall contained stacks of paperwork and a lamp, which was the sole source of light in the room.
I slipped inside, Ida Belle and Gertie close behind, and pointed to another door in the back corner.
“Probably the storeroom,” Ida Belle whispered.
“Let’s see if he’s in there,” I said.
“And if he is?” Gertie asked. “What do we say if he catches us?”
“We could start with we’re looking for the desk clerk,” I said.
“That’s a valid point,” Gertie said. “I hope he’s not dead somewhere.”
“So do I,” I said. “Especially since there’s a security camera in the lobby. If someone dies here, the police will look at everything.”
“Let’s get this over with and get out of here,” Ida Belle said. “Aside from some good blackmail pictures, this has been a total bust.”
I headed for the door but when I got within a foot of it, I heard a noise. I drew up short and turned around to face Gertie and Ida Belle, one finger over my lips. I pointed to the door and inched closer, pressing my ear against it.
Either the hotel had the cheapest doors money could buy or the couple on the other side of the door was fairly loud. I was betting on both. Either way, I had no doubt what was going on inside. Gertie and Ida Belle listened for a couple of seconds, then stepped back.
“Looks like Shirleen was right,” Gertie said. “I suppose we can sit in the lobby until they come out, then snap a picture.”
I shook my head. “We look ridiculous and the clerk can’t sleep forever. Besides, there’s probably a back door for maintenance to use so they’re not carting a bunch of dirty parts through the hotel.”
“I don’t want to sit around here half the night, either,” Ida Belle said. “The longer we’re here, the more likely we’ll run into trouble. The last thing we want to do is get accused of fiddling with the audit, and that’s exactly what people will think if someone sees us here.”
“Okay,” I said, “then here’s what we do. Ida Belle, since you’ve got better night vision, you go out to the parking lot and pull the car up to the front door. I’ll throw open the door and use that spotlight on the table to light up the room. Gertie will take a picture and then we’ll get the hell out of here.”
“What if he chases us?” Gertie asked.
“Naked?” I asked.
“Good point.” Gertie handed Ida Belle the car keys and she hurried off.
I grabbed the spotlight and Gertie got her phone ready to snap a picture. I gave Ida Belle a minute to get in position, then grabbed the door knob with my left hand and the spotlight with my right.
“On three,” I whispered. “One, two, three!”
I flung open the door and shone the spotlight at the ceiling, lighting up the entire room.
Winky and his friend were on a workbench in the middle of the room, but the only parts they were working on were each other’s. They both bolted up from the bench, and Gertie held her finger on the camera button and took about a hundred pictures in a second.
“What the hell!” Winky yelled, signaling our moment to retreat.
I spun around and ran out of the room, Gertie close behind. I could still hear Winky yelling behind us, and then behind the yelling, running.
I burst out of the maintenance room, knocking over the screens, and sprinted over the top of them. I was halfway across the lobby when I turned around and saw Gertie run through the doorway, habit over her eyes, then trip on the screens and slide ten feet across the lobby floor. Winky, who’d been right behind, followed suit and fell on top of her.
I heard a gasp and looked over to see that the missing desk clerk had chosen that moment to return to his job. I ran back to Gertie and grabbed her shoulder, trying to pull her out from under the sagging mass of maintenance man who had her pinned to the ground.
“You’re going to give me that phone, you bitch,” Winky yelled, his hands clutching Gertie’s collar.
I dropped Gertie’s shoulder and started pulling on Winky’s hands, trying to pry them off her robe, then I heard an electrical charge. Winky screamed and fell backward off Gertie, clutching his right butt cheek. I yanked Gertie up from the ground and we ran past the startled clerk and out the door.
Ida Belle stomped on the gas before we even got the car doors shut. The car lurched forward, tires squealing as we sped out of the parking lot.
“He was chasing you butt naked,” Ida Belle said, somewhat incredulous. “I’ve seen it all.”
“We’ve all seen it all,” I said. “That desk clerk is probably going to need counsel
ing. A naked Winky on top of a nun is not for the faint of heart.”
Ida Belle grinned. “Yeah, without having all the facts, that probably looked way worse than it was. What made him jump off? I was afraid Gertie pulled a gun out of that Bible of hers and shot him, but I didn’t hear anything but the shouting.”
“I Tased him,” Gertie said and held up the Taser for Ida Belle to see. “The Bible was underneath me and I could barely get the Taser out and reach around, but just managed. I have no idea where I hit him, but it worked.”
“Right in the butt cheek,” I said. “If you’d been over just a bit more, Winky might have developed more than an eye twitch.”
“Did you get a picture, I hope?” Ida Belle said.
“Oh yes,” Gertie said and lifted the phone. “I held the button down and got a bunch.”
“Oh, goodie,” Ida Belle said. “Now you have a hundred naked Winkys on your phone to cull through.”
Gertie grimaced and accessed the photos. “Oh no.”
“Please tell me you didn’t take a hundred pictures of the ceiling or the floor,” I said.
“No,” Gertie said. “It’s definitely Winky and his pinky. It’s the woman that’s a problem.”
“You know her?” Ida Belle asked.
“Uh-huh. It’s Shirleen’s sister.”
“Oops,” I said.
Ida Belle shook her head. “I’m still trying to wrap my mind around one woman wanting that man, much less two, but whatever. We did what she wanted and she has her answer. I’m sure it’s not the one she wants, but our job here is done. Now we just have to hope that clerk doesn’t call the police.”
“Unfortunately,” I said, “I think that’s probably a given. If anyone looks at the security footage and sees the clerk standing right there in front of the fray, the first question will be why didn’t you call the police. Liability and all.”
Ida Belle sighed. “Then let’s hope these costumes covered enough to keep anyone from recognizing us. Did everyone keep their heads down?”