Hurricane Force (A Miss Fortune Mystery Book 7)

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Hurricane Force (A Miss Fortune Mystery Book 7) Page 18

by DeLeon, Jana


  “No. I guess it hasn’t.”

  “Were you trying to prove you were good enough to him?” Gertie asked, “or yourself?”

  I shook my head. “Jesus. Him? Both? I don’t think I know anymore.”

  “You started down a path,” Ida Belle said, “with one destination in mind. I get that. The problem is you never adjusted for changes that happened during your travels.”

  “I guess it was easier to just keep doing what I already knew.”

  “Well,” Ida Belle said, “you certainly don’t have to decide your future sitting at this table tonight, but I think you need to put it at the top of your list. Even if the takedown is successful, you can’t ever go back to what you were before. Not entirely.”

  “I know.”

  Things had changed. I had changed. I’d fought so hard against coming to Sinful, but it was the best gift I’d ever been given. I’d opened my eyes to the world outside of my job. I’d formed relationships with people based on something other than my work. I’d started to believe that I could matter to people. People who had no preconceived notion of who I should be. Despite all the confidence I had in my ability to do my job, I hadn’t had any in myself as a person.

  Not until Sinful.

  “As part of your considering,” Gertie said, “we want you to know that we’d be thrilled if you chose to stay here. We know it wouldn’t be easy to explain yourself to everyone, and you’d have to figure out a job and such, but please don’t write it off.”

  Ida Belle nodded. “And if you just need time to consider your options, you can stay with Gertie or me as long as you like.”

  I felt the tears well up in my eyes again. After my mom’s death, I’d spent a lifetime surrounded by people who wanted something from me. These women simply wanted me.

  It was beyond overwhelming.

  ###

  It was a long, hard night. I slept in ten-minute increments, awakened by every creak of the house. Merlin finally tired of my constant shifting and sighing and stalked out of the room for a quieter place to sleep. I had hoped the whiskey would slow down my churning mind, but it didn’t seem to make any difference at all. It whirled all night like a carnival ride, constantly shifting from one crisis to another, never lingering long enough to come to a determination on anything.

  I finally gave up and climbed out of bed at 5:00 a.m. It was foolish to keep pretending I was going to sleep, especially in this house. It wouldn’t take much effort to track Gertie back to me. If Harrison wasn’t ready with the safe house today, then I was going to take them out of Sinful myself. We could transfer from wherever I decided we would hole up.

  I had just poured my first cup of coffee when I heard the front door open. Ally stepped into the kitchen a minute later, looking a bit surprised.

  “You’re up early,” she said.

  “I had trouble sleeping.”

  She gave me a critical look and poured herself a cup of coffee. “You look like you fought a war,” she said as she took a seat across from me. “Is something wrong?”

  “Ha. Yeah, you could say that.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No, but I don’t have a choice as part of what’s wrong involves you.”

  “Me?” Ally’s eyes widened. “What did I do?”

  “You didn’t do anything. I did. Or technically, Ida Belle, Gertie, and I did.”

  “Francine got a call last night from one of Gertie’s neighbors. He said the police carried four body bags out of Gertie’s backyard. I had just texted with you so I knew you guys were watching movies. Francine said the neighbor is an old drunk and we shrugged it off. Are you telling me he wasn’t as drunk as we thought he was?”

  “He might have been drunk, but he wasn’t wrong.”

  Ally’s hand flew up and covered her mouth. “Oh my God. Who were they?”

  “We don’t know. Carter and I went by there last night because Gertie’s alarm was going off. Apparently, it’s always been sketchy, so no one thought anything of it. I was going to pick up a chair she requested from her shed while Carter checked the back windows, but then two guys rushed us and Carter took them out. He found two more bodies in the bushes.”

  “That’s unbelievable. No wonder you didn’t sleep. You must have been scared to death.”

  “I’m okay. I mean, it’s not something I ever want to see again, but that’s not the worst part. I can’t give you the details because I would be breaking the law if I did, but the bottom line is that Ida Belle, Gertie, and I stumbled into something when we went to New Orleans. Something we weren’t supposed to see.”

  All of the color fled Ally’s face. “You think they were there to kill you?”

  “Yeah. So until the police can figure out what’s going on, the three of us are going to be relocated to a safe house, and you can’t stay here. It isn’t safe. Carter is going to arrange for you to stay with his mother.”

  “Oh my God, Fortune. It’s like a bad movie. Of course you have to hide, and I’ll be fine with Emmaline. Are you sure she’ll be safe with me staying there?”

  I nodded. “They’re not looking for you. But they have Gertie’s license plate and they saw me. It wouldn’t take much to track her back to me. I don’t want you caught in the cross fire.”

  “There’s not going to be any,” Ally said. “All that’s going to be left here is an empty house and thank goodness for that. Can you tell me where you’re going?”

  “No. We probably won’t know until we get there. And I won’t be able to contact you until it’s over. If you need to tell me something, leave me a message or send a text. If they don’t take my phone, I’ll read them, but that’s all I can do. If you have an emergency, get in touch with Carter. For his own protection, he won’t know where we are either, but he’ll have a way to reach someone who will.”

  Ally shook her head. “I just can’t believe it. So many odd things have happened in Sinful lately, but this is the worst. Promise me the three of you will sit in that safe house, surrounded by guards, and not move even a step until the police have this all fixed. No taking chances.”

  “I promise.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Hold out your hands.”

  I smiled. She knew me entirely too well. I held my hands up, spreading my fingers apart. She nodded, then looked under the table at my legs.

  “Okay,” she said, seeming satisfied. “I believe you…this time.”

  It was a safe bet. The Feds were going to lock the three of us up like prisoners. We probably wouldn’t even get to pee without an escort…not if the bathroom contained a window. All the windows would be covered and the blinds and shades drawn. No food delivery. No flow of people in and out. It would be stocked with a minimum of a week’s food and toiletry supply for us and however many guards would be placed with us. My guess is only two or three simply because Harrison could only trust so many people given the CIA leak. But it would be too many people to circumvent. Even if we wanted to.

  “I don’t know when we’ll be leaving,” I said, “but my guess is it will be today. I think it’s a good idea for you to go ahead and pack and relocate this morning. I’ll call Carter and let him know when you’re ready. I’m really sorry about this.”

  Ally shook her head. “Don’t you dare apologize. I know you guys are usually into things better left alone, but your hearts are in the right place. And the truth is, you’ve helped get some bad people out of Sinful.”

  She rose from the table, still clutching her coffee. “I best head upstairs and pack a bag. What am I supposed to tell people when they ask?”

  “Tell them we’re taking a girls’ trip to Florida.”

  “I wish that was the truth.”

  “Me too.”

  ###

  At 3:00 p.m., after a silent ride with Carter to the hospital, we stood in the morgue alongside FBI Agent Moss, looking at our mode of escape.

  “No way,” Gertie said. “I’ll just stay in Sinful and let them kill me.” />
  “Either way,” Ida Belle said, “you’ll wind up in one of these.” She waved a hand at the three coffins in front of us.

  “I won’t know about it then,” Gertie said. “Don’t tell me this doesn’t creep you out.”

  “It’s got a morbid vibe to it,” I said, “but it’s bulletproof as an escape. Someone could have easily followed us to the hospital, but they would never think to follow coffins out.”

  Gertie shook her head. “I’ll suffocate. Besides, I have claustrophobia.”

  “You don’t have claustrophobia,” Ida Belle said. “You’re just afraid of death and this is too close for comfort.”

  “And these coffins have been modified with breathing holes,” I said. “See?” I pointed to a panel that looked like wood but was actually a vent.

  Gertie leaned forward to inspect it. “How did you know that was there? You’ve done this before, haven’t you? You’ve traipsed around in a coffin. Good God woman, is there no limit to the things you’ll do?”

  I stared. “Are you kidding me with that question?”

  “Ladies,” Agent Moss said. “We need to get a move on. The funeral home has a limited open window for us to unload before people start arriving for a ceremony.”

  “And you’re sure about the funeral home people?” I asked. I knew he had to be or we wouldn’t be doing the transfer there, but I couldn’t help asking, especially with death being one of Randal’s business ventures.

  Agent Moss nodded. “Only the funeral director knows what we’re doing, and his daughter is an FBI agent.”

  “Awesome.” We couldn’t ask for a better setup than that. “Go ahead,” I urged Gertie. “You can choose first. I know you like yellow. Look at this lovely gold silk. Doesn’t that feel nice?”

  “It would feel nice as a nightie, not a wrap of death.” Gertie sighed and stared at the coffin.

  “It’s just for a couple minutes,” Agent Moss assured her. “Once we get you into the van, we’ll open them up. We’ll close them again for a couple minutes to get you inside the funeral home, then it’s all over.”

  “A couple of minutes—here and there?” Gertie said. “You promise that’s all?”

  He held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

  “I’m not crossing my arms or anything weird,” Gertie said.

  Ida Belle shook her head and climbed inside one of the coffins. “Close me up,” she said. “This may be the only peace I get for the next couple days.”

  I grinned and shut the lid to the coffin. “How’s the air?”

  “Great,” Ida Belle said. “I could do yoga in here there’s so much air.”

  “Fine,” Gertie said and stepped up into the coffin. She closed her eyes after lying down and I saw her lips move as I fastened the lid. I assumed she was praying.

  “How are you doing?” I asked.

  “Hurry up and get me the hell out of here,” she said.

  I looked over at Agent Moss. “You got my clothes?” I asked quietly.

  He nodded and handed me a black jacket and cap that matched what he was wearing. I replaced my yoga pants with black slacks, pulled the suit jacket over my black T-shirt, stuffed my hair up into the cap, and gave him a thumbs-up. He motioned two more identically dressed agents, who’d been standing guard in the hallway, into the room.

  Two of us took each coffin and started rolling them down the hall. We slid both coffins into the back of a black van with the funeral home logo on it, then two of the agents jumped into a black sedan that held the funeral home logo, and the lead agent and I climbed into the van. As soon as we pulled out of the parking lot, I headed to the back of the van and opened the coffins.

  Gertie popped up, gasping for air, then locked in on my outfit. “What the hell? Why aren’t you in a coffin?”

  “Because we could only fit two in the van,” I said.

  “So? You could have played dead and I could have been the funeral home assistant.”

  “Sure,” I said. “I mean, you would have only had to lift this coffin, which weighs about two hundred fifty pounds plus your body weight, but I’m sure that would have been no problem.”

  “You’d be surprised what adrenaline can do,” Gertie said.

  “Stop your bitching,” Ida Belle said. “It wasn’t that long and I could breathe in there as well as I can in my own bed. The silk is nice. I might have to get some sheets like that.”

  “How do we look?” I asked Agent Moss.

  He picked up a radio and contacted the other agents, asking for a report.

  Clear.

  That single word relayed back a couple seconds later and I felt some of the tension in my shoulders release. No one had followed us.

  “So we’re good?” Gertie asked.

  “For the moment,” I said. “We’ve still got to get to the safe house, but no one is following us.”

  “Great,” Gertie said. “I don’t suppose we could stop at an IHOP or something. I’m starving.”

  “I think you’re going to have to wait,” I said.

  “The safe house is stocked with food,” Agent Moss said. “You should be in place in an hour or so.”

  Gertie wrestled her purse out from under the lower part of the coffin. I knew I should have insisted the FBI search that purse of doom before they got into the coffins, but selfishly, I knew I might get into a situation where I would welcome something from Gertie’s bag of tricks.

  “It’s a good thing I don’t depend on other people,” Gertie said. She pulled out a bottle of soda and a package of peanut butter crackers. “I have three of these. Anyone interested?”

  “Not unless you’re sharing your soda,” Ida Belle said. “Those things stick to the roof of my mouth.”

  Gertie reached into her purse and pulled out two more sodas.

  “What else do you have in there?” I asked.

  “None of your business,” Gertie said, “but I still contend I could have lifted the coffin.”

  She was probably right. Gertie’s right shoulder had a slight dip and she leaned a bit to the right all the time, I’m sure from the weight of that purse. I wouldn’t have been completely surprised if she had rolled a tank out of that bag, just like in the cartoons. I had a bit of concern about what kind of weaponry she was packing—and I’m sure it was extensive—but I couldn’t ask about it in front of Agent Moss or he’d confiscate it. I could only pray that the safety was engaged on everything. I grabbed a soda and a package of crackers and took a seat on Ida Belle’s coffin.

  The ride to the funeral home went quicker than I expected, especially given the lack of conversation during the ride. I knew why I was silent. I had more to think about than any twenty people usually did in an entire lifetime. I wasn’t sure what Ida Belle and Gertie were dwelling on, but their occasional glances at me and then each other made me think it was probably the same things I was dwelling on.

  Agent Moss had been short on words since we’d met, but that was standard operating procedure for Feds. Per Morrow’s direction, the FBI wasn’t to know my true identity, so Agent Moss wouldn’t see any reason to speak to me as an associate. We were just three women who’d witnessed something we shouldn’t have seen and needed to be secured.

  The only thing I refused to allow myself to think about was Carter. Every time my thoughts attempted to shift to him, I forced a change of direction. My doomed relationship wasn’t a factor in my decisions. I needed to make a logical, responsible decision about my future. Thoughts of Carter and what might have been had no place in my consideration.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t know how the takedown would go or how my reception at the CIA would be afterward, and both were huge factors in my decision-making. Or maybe they weren’t. Maybe if Director Morrow told me I could return to the CIA but had to answer the phones for a year, I’d apologize and go back to DC like a good little soldier. If only Gertie had a crystal ball in that bag of hers. Life had been so much easier when I only had one thing to do and someone else usually made dec
isions for me.

  As we pulled up to the back entrance at the funeral home, I closed Ida Belle and Gertie back up and took my seat next to Agent Moss. He parked and we headed to the back of the van to unload. The two agents following us arrived a minute later. The funeral home director poked his head out the rear door and motioned to us to collect the transport carts in the hallway behind him.

  “You’ve got about thirty minutes before people start arriving for this evening’s viewing,” he said. He glanced at the coffins. “Are you sure they’re okay in there?”

  “Of course we’re not okay,” Gertie yelled. “We’re alive and in coffins.”

  The funeral director blanched and his hands shook as he pushed a transfer cart out the door. Apparently dead people in coffins he could handle, but shove a live one in there, and it freaked him out. It took all kinds.

  Agent Moss and I slid Ida Belle’s coffin onto the cart and pushed it to the side while the other two agents pulled Gertie’s coffin onto the cart.

  And that’s where our great plan blew up right in our faces.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I saw the cart move forward as the agents made their final pull on the coffin to get it completely on the cart, but by the time I yelled and leaped for the cart, it was already rolling away.

  “Idiots!” Agent Moss yelled as we took off running.

  I ran like an Olympic sprinter, but the odds were against me. The parking lot sloped down and the weight of the coffin made it gain speed in a way I couldn’t manage. I prayed it veered to the left and hit the curb. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable way to unload, but it beat the alternative. Unfortunately, the alternative was the cart’s selection, and it shot out of the driveway and down the alley. I could hear Gertie screaming as it bumped along.

  I didn’t think it was possible, but I dialed up my speed another notch. Agent Moss couldn’t keep pace, but I could hear his footsteps pounding close behind me. The entire time I ran, I watched the busy street at the end of the alley and prayed the cart would veer left or right. If it shot into traffic, that would be very bad. The last thing I wanted was for Gertie to actually die in that coffin. That would be an irony that didn’t have a bit of humor connected to it.

 

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