by Jana DeLeon
With all the running, shooting, hanging around trees, and getting hit with vases that was going on, I hadn’t had time to process the facts of the night. But under the hot stream of the shower, my mind finally slowed down and I started at the beginning, focusing on when I first saw the creeper.
Initially, I considered that I might have been wrong and had confused Carter for the creeper from the get-go, but that couldn’t be right. The creeper had been wearing a beanie mask, just like the night before. And obviously, Carter had seen him too or he wouldn’t have been tracking him around the back of my house.
Crap!
That also meant that Carter had been watching my house again. Stupid. I should have known he’d be nearby. One, because he wanted to nab the creeper before he could finish whatever nefarious thing he had planned, and two, before I shot the beanie-wearing freak myself. The interesting thing is that I hadn’t seen Carter at all when I’d left the house, and the moonlight had the yard lit up pretty good all the way across the bayou.
I’d checked the street when unlocking the living room window and hadn’t seen his truck, so either he had it tucked away somewhere else, or he’d walked over from his house and had been hiding across the street. None of this boded well for any future creeper hunting. I’d already expensed more lives than Merlin had. At some point, I would run out, and the last place I wanted that to happen was in front of Carter.
I shut off the shower and dried off. Settling for underwear and T-shirt, I dressed and headed into the bedroom and slid in between the cool sheets with no intention of leaving for a good eight hours or more. Ally had to be at work early and would be up and gone with the chickens, but hopefully, I’d be able to sleep through it.
First thing tomorrow, I’d check in with Gertie and Ida Belle and formulate a plan to go to the Swamp Bar. At some point, I had to check in with Walter, who would be expecting an update. He wasn’t going to be thrilled with the one I provided, but that was his own fault for making me promise. Then I wanted to sit down with Ally and have another talk about who could be out to get her.
The timing of the arsonist and the creeper couldn’t be a coincidence.
Someone in Sinful had an agenda. And I was going to find out what it was.
###
Given that it had taken me two hours to slow my mind down enough to fall asleep, I surprised myself when I popped out of bed at 8:00 a.m., completely rested and ready to go. Ally had prepped the coffeepot for me and left a note that said to press Brew. Unfortunately, we’d polished off the blueberry muffins the day before so I stood looking inside the refrigerator for a while, deliberating between a bagel and a protein shake. Finally, I closed the door and poured a cup of coffee, having decided I’d finish off the pot, then head into town for breakfast at Francine’s.
I inhaled two cups of coffee like a true addict then, in keeping with my vow to exercise every day, pulled on my tennis shoes and set out at a good jog to the café. It took me about a block for my breathing to relax into rhythm, and my thighs complained a bit, but finally my body settled into its normal pace and it wasn’t very long before I hit Main Street. I slowed to a walk, wanting to get my heart rate and breathing slower before I consumed breakfast.
That run had consumed a good bit of calories. Maybe enough calories for me to splurge at breakfast.
The usual crowd of locals were already seated in the café and digging into their breakfast. I snagged my usual two-top table in the corner at the back of the café, and Ally cruised by a minute later and pushed a cup of coffee in front of me.
“I bet you’re starving,” she said. “Special today is chicken-fried steak and eggs.”
My stomach rumbled and my mouth was well on its way to blurting out “Hell, yeah” when I remembered my new fitness plan. “Not today. I’ll have an egg-white omelet with spinach and mozzarella.”
Ally raised one eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah, I have this whole fitness thing. When yoga pants start to get tight in the waist, you’ve got a real problem.”
She laughed. “I get it. Ever since I’ve started all this testing to open my own bakery, nothing in my closet fits right. I guess you’ve consumed some of everything as well.”
“Maybe a bit more than ‘some’ in most cases.”
“I’ll put this in,” she said and headed toward the kitchen.
The bells above the café door jangled and I looked over in time to see a middle-aged man I didn’t recognize step inside.
Midforties, decent to okay shape, nearsighted, left leg slightly shorter than right. I’d beat him in a footrace hands down.
His looks were normal—brown hair, brown eyes, common face—but his clothes were a little off. He wore a polo shirt and slacks, with the shirt tucked in, and loafers. I wouldn’t have even noticed him in DC but in Sinful, he was dressed a little too fancy to blend, especially as it wasn’t Sunday.
When Ally stopped by a minute later to refill my coffee, I inclined my head in his direction. “Who’s that?”
Ally glanced over, her brow scrunched in concentration for a couple of seconds, then her expression cleared back to normal. “I couldn’t remember at first. He’s a real estate agent from New Orleans. Wanted to buy Mama’s house after she went to the facility in New Orleans. Given the way things have turned out, I should have sold it.”
I frowned. “So he just showed up from New Orleans, somehow knowing you might have a house for sale. That sounds a little odd.”
“He said his client had family that used to live here and he was interested in retiring somewhere quiet but not too far away from New Orleans. I guess someone suggested me, thinking I’d want to sell and go back to New Orleans with Mama.”
“Were there any other houses for sale at the time?”
“I think so. The Pauleys had just moved to Natchez, and I’m pretty sure Mrs. Verna’s grandson had her house up for sale after moving her to an assisted living center.”
“And did anyone from New Orleans buy either of those houses and move here?”
“No. Both were bought by oilfield guys who’d been working in the area and commuting.” Ally glanced over at him again and frowned. “You don’t think he was up to something, do you? He made that offer six months ago.”
I shrugged. “He may be completely on the up-and-up, but it sounds a little strange is all.”
“I hate this,” Ally said. “It forces me to look at everyone differently. I don’t want to even think about someone I know being involved in something so cruel.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty crappy.” And it was. Until now, I hadn’t really thought about it in relation to my own situation, but I supposed when it boiled right down to it, our situations were similar. In my case, I was hidden away in the Louisiana swamps, pretending to be someone else, because my boss was certain that a leak at the CIA was what had put me in harm’s way. It sucked to think that another agent was the reason one of the most dangerous men in the world had put a price on my head. What kind of scumbag did you have to be to betray one of your own?
And the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. When Director Morrow found out who the leak was, I swear I was going to take a piece out of them.
“Don’t worry,” I said, returning to my here and now. “Carter will figure it all out.”
“Let’s hope he doesn’t figure all of it out.” She gave me a small smile and headed to the next table with her coffeepot.
I sighed at the reminder of my mission failure. The absolute last thing I’d wanted to do was draw attention to myself with Carter, especially when he was 100 percent in cop mode. Instead of sitting inside with locked doors and windows, minding my own business, I’d tried to play sniper vigilante and had ended up shooting the one person I was trying to avoid.
The number of miscalculations I’d made since I’d been in Sinful had to be some sort of all-time record, at least for nonresidents. Gertie probably held the local record for foul-ups. That woman could probably figure out a way to make watchi
ng television dangerous.
The door bells sounded off again and I looked over to see Carter walk in. I felt my back and neck tighten. I had hoped he’d be too busy working this morning to stop for breakfast, but I supposed work didn’t preclude needing to eat. Not seeing any other choice, I lifted my hand to wave him over.
He headed over and slowly lowered himself into the chair across from me. Dark circles were beginning to form under his eyes and he looked exhausted.
Ally made her way over, looking a little apprehensive, but plastered on her usual smile as she stepped up to the table. “Morning. Do you want your usual?”
“No time to sit and enjoy it today,” he said. “Can you just get me a sausage biscuit and a coffee to go?”
“Coming right up,” Ally said, then headed off for the kitchen again.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked. “You’re moving all stiff.” Carter had never mentioned being shot last night, so I needed to act like someone who knew nothing.
“I got shot last night at your house.”
I sat up straight and forced my eyes as wide as I could get them. “What?”
“That gunshot last night was a load of rock salt, and it got me right across the back.”
“You don’t sit on your back,” I pointed out.
“Fine. I got shot in the ass. Does that clear things up?”
“Completely.” I frowned. “Actually, I’m lying. I have no idea what any of that means. What is rock salt and how do you shoot it? Ally said it was a shotgun blast. And where were you when you got shot? Why was someone shooting in the first place?”
Carter held a hand up to stop my barrage. “Rock salt is just what it sounds like—lumps of salt formed into tiny rocks. You can load shotgun shells with it. Some people use it to scare away animals they don’t want near livestock. Others use it to scare away trespassers.”
“Is that legal?”
He gave me an aggrieved look. “I shouldn’t even be saying this to you, but technically, if they’re trying to enter your home, vehicle, or business, and you have reason to believe they will harm you, then you can shoot trespassers with real bullets.”
“See, this is where the legal system gets stupid. If an intruder, like the creeper, for instance, clearly knows I’m home, then why would I have a reason to believe he’s not going to harm me? If he simply wanted to steal something, he’d wait until I was gone.”
He nodded. “And that is the way most juries see it. But in this case, he wasn’t inside your house.”
“Not yet.”
“We don’t know what he was planning to do.”
“Well, we know he wasn’t planning to drop by at a decent hour with a fruit basket and ring the doorbell. Doesn’t creating a ski mask count for premeditated something-not-good?”
“Maybe. Or he could just be a Peeping Tom.”
I stared. “Seriously. With all the people toting firearms in this town, is someone really stupid enough to try to peep in windows? I discovered quite recently, and much to my horror I might add, that you can see all kinds of naked and perverted on cable TV. Why leave the safety of your house?”
“Television can’t replace the real item.”
I raised one eyebrow. “So you’re telling me someone is risking getting shot just to catch a glimpse of me in some form of nakedness? It can’t possibly be worth it.”
“Well, I’m not sure if it’s worth it…yet.” He gave me that lazy, sexy smile of his that turned my legs to jelly. And despite my private decree that a relationship with Carter was completely and totally out of the question, I felt my resolve slipping away.
My face flushed hot and I cursed myself for such a typical girl reaction. I may be a girl, but I was anything but typical. Carter’s grin widened at my obvious discomfort.
“So do you think the creeper is the one who shot you?” I asked, trying to get the conversation back around to safe ground.
The smile disappeared. “I didn’t think so last night. I was watching your house from across the street and saw him slip down the hedges to your backyard. I made it to the corner of your house as quickly as possible without making a ton of noise. I didn’t think he had time to circle around the house and come up behind me.”
“Maybe he never went down the back of the house. Maybe he saw you or heard you and hid in the bushes on the side until you went by.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” he said, but I could tell he didn’t want to admit the creeper might have gotten the best of him.
“More possible than yet another guy lurking around my house shooting people.”
He sighed. “Probably so.”
Ally stepped up to the table and placed a to-go cup of coffee and a small bag in front of Carter. “It’s on me this morning,” she said. “For looking out for me and Fortune.”
She hurried off before he could argue. He rose from the table and picked up his coffee and biscuit. “I better get back to it,” he said.
“You’ll let me know if you find out anything, right?” I asked, although I don’t know why I bothered. If Carter figured out that I was the one who shot him, I’d know by virtue of the handcuffs I’d be wearing.
“Of course,” he said and left the café.
Not ten seconds later, David, the fireman who’d helped Ally at her house, walked in, looking as though he’d just been summoned into a brothel rather than a café. The tips of his ears were pink and he glanced nervously around.
My curiosity piqued, I gestured him over. At first, he looked confused, but when he stepped up to the table, his expression cleared. “You’re the lady I saw at Ally’s house.”
I extended my hand. “Sandy-Sue Morrow. But everyone calls me Fortune.”
He shook my hand. “David Leger.”
I waved at the empty chair. “Have a seat.”
He glanced back at the kitchen again and I held in a smile as what he was up to finally hit me. He was here to see Ally, and he didn’t want her to think he was hitting on me.
“Please,” I said, now more interested in talking to him than before. “People sit with me all the time when the café’s full. That chair is a regular revolving door.”
“Thanks,” he said and sat down, looking a little less nervous. “So you’re a friend of Ally’s?”
I nodded.
“You guys been friends a long time?” he asked, not quite meeting my gaze.
“Not even a month. I’m not from here. My aunt passed away and I’m here for the summer to settle her affairs.”
“Oh, I’m sorry about your aunt.”
“Thanks,” I said. He seemed like a nice guy. Maybe he could end Ally’s bad streak with Sinful men. “So I’m basically new here, like you, although I suppose you spent time here when you were a kid.”
He nodded. “I usually spent a couple weeks every summer with my grandparents when I was young. Then Grandpa died and when Grandma got ill, Mama put her in an assisted living center in Houston. I always remembered the town, though, and liked it. Lake Charles, where I’m from, is no big city, but it a sight bigger than Sinful. It doesn’t have that tranquil feel, you know?”
I nodded. If he only knew just how far from tranquil Sinful really was.
“And the fishing is great,” he said.
“If you like to fish.”
“You don’t?”
“Nope. If possible, I only get into boats to drink beer and sleep.”
He hesitated just a second before laughing, probably assuming I was joking. I glanced over at the kitchen as Ally came out with my food. She did a double take and almost stopped short when she saw David sitting there. Quickly recovering, she put on her smile and sat the plate in front of me.
I pointed to David. “Look who I found waiting for a table.”
David looked up at Ally with a shy smile. “Are you doing okay? I mean…since the fire?”
“I’m doing fine. The insurance adjuster is supposed to be out today. Hopefully, it won’t take long to get things fixed.”
>
“The damage didn’t look too terribly bad,” he said. “But you’ll probably get a new kitchen out of it.”
Ally perked up. “You think so? That would be fabulous!”
“Ally is going to open her own bakery,” I said. “Her pastries are worth killing over.”
Ally blushed a little. “Fortune exaggerates, but I do like to bake.”
“True,” I agreed. “I do exaggerate, but not this time. Why do you think I invited her to stay with me while her house is being repaired?”
David nodded. “I’m living in a one-bedroom apartment over the preacher’s garage right now, but I’d gladly take the couch if I could find a roommate who cooked. I can’t even heat up microwave dinners without making a mess.”
“Well, there you go,” I said to Ally. “If you get tired of me, you have another offer on the table.”
A blush ran up David’s face and Ally looked slightly horrified.
“Oh, that’s not what I meant,” David said, clearly flustered. “I mean, I would never make a presumption like that about a lady.”
“I’m just kidding,” I said. “Besides, do you really think I’d give her up that easily?”
“Good Lord,” Ally mumbled. “Can I get you anything to eat, David?”
David glanced at his watch and his eyes widened. “It’s later than I thought. Can I get a sausage biscuit and a coffee to go?”
“Of course.” Ally gave me a dirty look, then spun around and headed for the kitchen.
I leaned across the table, locking my gaze on David. “She’s single,” I said, my voice low. “In case that’s what you came in for.”
His jaw dropped for a moment and he stared at me in dismay. “I, uh…well, thanks.”
After an uncomfortable thirty seconds of silence, Ally appeared with his coffee and biscuit. He handed her a twenty, thanked her, and hurried out of the café.
“Jeez,” I said as the café door swung shut. “I’m running them off in record numbers this morning.”