by Jana DeLeon
He was still chuckling when we walked out the door.
We were two miles down the highway from Big and Little’s warehouse office before anyone spoke. I was processing everything we knew about the situation so far and trying to decide what could possibly be so valuable that it was worth going to all this trouble. I had no idea what everyone else was thinking.
“So?” I asked finally, breaking the silence. “What do you guys think?”
“Maybe it’s diamonds,” Ida Belle said. “Something small enough to escape detection from Hot Rod but worth enough to kill for.”
“I think I need to buy a new handbag,” Gertie said.
“I think we’re going to start making you carry a coin purse,” I said, “just so we can ensure our own safety.”
“Don’t underestimate a coin purse,” Gertie said.
“We probably shouldn’t allow her to wear clothes with pockets, either,” Ida Belle said.
“You never know when you might need something,” Gertie said. “The things in my purse have come in handy more than once.”
That’s when it dawned on me that Gertie wasn’t carrying a purse at all. “I thought you had a backup. Why aren’t you carrying it?”
“I forgot that I let my neighbor borrow it and there was an accident,” Gertie said. “I didn’t want it back afterward.”
“You mean old Mrs. Cline?” Ida Belle said, and started laughing. “That was no accident. That’s you in five years if you don’t get better glasses.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” I said, “but I’m going to anyway. What happened?”
“Mrs. Cline borrowed Gertie’s backup purse because she was going to one of those roving flea markets and needed something bigger to put her wares in,” Ida Belle said. “Mrs. Cline’s eyesight is even worse than Gertie’s, but she refuses to wear her glasses unless she’s reading, so she didn’t find anything to buy at the flea market, probably because it all looked crappy blurred together. On the way home, she spotted her cat in the neighbors’ bushes and figured he’d gotten out of the house. So she caught him and stuffed him in the purse.”
“He’s an inside cat with no claws,” Gertie said. “That’s a perfectly reasonable thing to do.”
“It would have been reasonable if it had actually been her cat and not a skunk,” Ida Belle said.
“No!” I said. “Did she figure it out before she brought it inside?”
Ida Belle started laughing. “Heck no. She trotted right to the kitchen and opened the purse, thinking the cat was going to hop out and wait for his dinner like he always did. Instead, the skunk strolls out of the bag and then Mrs. Cline sees her cat sitting on the kitchen counter. And he’s not amused.”
Gertie, who’d been trying to keep a straight face, couldn’t hold back any longer, and she started laughing so hard her shoulders shook. “The cat, Horace,” she said when she’d finally stopped guffawing, “bowed up and hissed and the skunk went crazy. He sprayed the cat, Mrs. Cline, the counter, the drapes…basically, the entire kitchen was a war zone of stench.
“So Mrs. Cline grabs a pair of glasses off the counter and puts them on and realizes she’s got a skunk parading around her kitchen sending out a stink bomb like a lawn sprinkler. She runs to the back door and flings it open and the angry animal ran outside, giving her porch a final squirt before he hauled it into the bushes.”
I couldn’t help laughing. I’d seen Mrs. Cline at church holding the hymnal upside down and could imagine the entire thing going down just as Ida Belle and Gertie described.
“What did she do about the smell?” I asked. “Is there a hazmat team for random skunking?”
“The entire kitchen had to be repainted,” Gertie said. “She washed the heck out of the drapes, but every time it got humid, they smelled like skunk all over again, so she finally tossed them. Mrs. Cline spent a significant amount of time bathing in tomato paste. Poor Horace had to be sedated and bathed, and for a good six months, he was on anxiety medicine.”
“He never went back into the kitchen,” Ida Belle said. “Mrs. Cline had to feed him in the living room.”
“I didn’t even bother trying to clean the purse,” Gertie said. “When Mrs. Cline returned it, I wasn’t home so she left it on the front porch. Carter got complaints from three of my neighbors before I got home. So I just threw it away, but then I forgot to replace it.”
“I can see why you might want to let that one slip your mind,” I said. “On the positive side, Ida Belle and I don’t have to worry as much about what you’re packing since you don’t have a handbag.”
“Oh, I just stuffed it all in my bra,” Gertie said.
I looked at her in the rearview mirror, hoping she was joking, but she appeared to be completely serious. Ida Belle didn’t even bother hiding her dismay.
“I am not frisking her bra,” I said. “I’d rather risk an explosion.”
“Agreed,” Ida Belle said. “Nor am I interested in her going without one.”
“You two are ridiculous,” Gertie said. “Fortune usually has two guns strapped somewhere on her body. She probably takes one into the shower, and don’t ever make the mistake of waking her from a dead sleep. You might get capped before she even opens her eyes.” She looked at Ida Belle. “And you, with your Dale Earnhardt death machines. Who the heck needs an SUV that goes two hundred miles per hour?”
“I’m okay with fast things,” I said. “Mostly. I mean, I’ve pretty much thought I would die several times with Ida Belle behind the wheel, but then I’m certain we would have all died several times if we hadn’t been in something fast. So I’m still going with fast is worth the risk.”
“Really?” Gertie said. “Even when the latest speed acquisition might have put a man in the ICU?”
It was a sucky point, but a point nonetheless.
We were all somber when I parked in front of the hospital and we entered the ICU. Ida Belle went directly to the nurse’s desk and inquired about Hot Rod. The nurse stared at her for a moment with a “why do you want to know” look, then her expression shifted and she relaxed.
“You’re Miss Ida Belle,” she said. “You probably don’t remember me—Shonda. Grandma Cline always spoke highly of your cough syrup.”
“Good Lord,” Ida Belle said. “Shonda. I haven’t seen you since you were a little bitty thing. And now you’re all grown up and working at the hospital. That’s just great.”
“Is that Mrs. Cline of the skunk-in-purse fame?” I asked. I couldn’t help myself. I usually can’t.
Shonda laughed. “That story never gets old. When Horace died, Grandma Cline refused to get another cat. I think Horace probably made her pay for what happened to him.”
Gertie nodded. “Cats have a way of reminding all of us that they tolerate us only because of our opposable thumbs that open cans of goodness.”
“So true,” Shonda said. “I would love a puppy, but with the hours I work, it wouldn’t be fair to either of us. I settled for a neglected cactus. I’m not doing so well with that, either.”
She tapped on her computer screen, then shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t let you in to see Hot Rod, and even if you got through the doors, there’s a cop sitting outside his room. He won’t let anyone in except the medical staff.”
Ida Belle nodded. “I figured that might be the case, but it didn’t feel right sitting home and not checking.”
“Of course not,” Shonda said.
“Can you tell us anything about his condition?” I asked. “We don’t want to get you in trouble, but we’ve been hoping for a bit of good news.”
Shonda frowned. “He’s in critical condition. It’s really touch-and-go right now. I’m fairly new to this, but some of the older nurses said cases like his are fifty-fifty. I’m sorry I don’t have anything better for you.”
“Fifty-fifty is still better than the alternative,” Gertie said.
Ida Belle pulled some bills out of her pocket and stuck her hand out, passing them to Shonda as the
y shook. Shonda uncurled her hand and looked at the bills, somewhat confused.
“For taking care of Hot Rod,” Ida Belle said. “If there’s anything I can do, please call. Hot Rod was a good man. He doesn’t have any family here to look after him, so the least I can do is fill in.”
Shonda’s expression cleared in understanding and she nodded. “Of course, Miss Ida Belle. If I think of anything or if his condition changes, I’ll let you know. Thank you ladies for stopping by. It’s really nice to know that some things about Sinful haven’t changed.”
If she only knew.
Chapter Seven
It was late afternoon before Carter swung by my house. Even though it was still hot as heck, I’d gone into the backyard for some hammock sleeping and book reading. My cat, Merlin, who seemed to enjoy the heat, was sunning next to a rosebush. I was in between naps when Carter came around the side of the house and into the backyard, and I waved.
He gave the chopped hedges a hard look as he crossed the lawn, and I held in a smile. He might care for me, but he still didn’t trust me. A normal woman might be offended, but I just thought it made him smart. Not that I couldn’t be trusted at all. It was more like I couldn’t be trusted about certain things—like not getting involved when a friend might be in danger.
“You might want to hire someone next time,” he said, and pointed at the bushes.
“I know,” I said. “Gertie offered to do it all, but I wanted to learn, and there’s that whole other thing of letting Gertie loose with giant scissors.”
“Smart,” he said, and sat in the lawn chair that I keep near the hammock, mostly for Carter to sit in.
“So I hear that while I was doing a hatchet job on my bushes, someone set off a bomb at Hot Rod’s shop.” I figured if I got the facts wrong, he might make an attempt to correct me. “And for some reason you thought I might be involved?”
I had to give him credit. At least he appeared a bit apologetic.
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s sort of a trigger response given the company you keep, and then there’s that whole history thing.”
“So who blew up the shop?” I said, hoping that if he felt bad, I could take advantage of it.
“It wasn’t the shop. It was in the woods surrounding the shop.”
“Was it a still?” I figured given that a lot of Sinful residents made their own brew, it was the logical thing to ask.
“No. I’m not sure what it was, to be honest. Left a big hole in the ground and blew up some bushes.”
“Kids?” It might not sound like a reasonable guess in other places, but Sinful was special.
“Could be,” Carter said, proving my point. “There’s a lot of highway construction going on. Someone could have snagged some dynamite for their own fun.”
“Isn’t it all supposed to be locked up and inventoried?”
“Of course. You say that like it changes reality.”
I smiled. “Sorry. For a minute, I forgot I was in Sinful. So was anyone hurt?”
“Indirectly.” Carter looked off at the bayou, and I could tell he was trying not to smile.
“Oh no!” I said, sitting up in the hammock. “You can’t sit there with your lips quivering and not tell me what happened. It didn’t have anything to do with the crime, so spill.”
“Well, technically, the explosion is a crime of its own.”
“Seriously. That’s how you’re going to play it?”
“Okay, fine. A deputy from a neighboring jurisdiction had called offering to help if I needed it. The sheriff’s department likes to avoid involving the state police if we can help it, so I took him up on the offer and had him watching the shop. Sheriff Lee was there, but I figured he needed backup.”
“Meaning someone to keep him awake.”
“That and to make sure he didn’t die on the job. I’m pretty sure that’s what’s going to happen. He’s going to die on that horse, go into rigor, and no one is going to notice for days.”
“I can see that.”
“Well, anyway, it didn’t happen today. What happened is that Sheriff Lee heard a noise in the woods and headed that direction to investigate. When he got close, the explosion happened. I don’t know how much you know about horses, but even when they’re a thousand years old and partially deaf, they don’t mix with loud things.”
“Oh no. Is Sheriff Lee all right? What about the horse?”
“The deputy got the worst of it, actually. The horse spun around and hightailed it away from the woods, and ran over the deputy, who couldn’t dive out of the way in time. Sheriff Lee did a death cling and managed to stay on until the horse wore out and stopped running. Believe it or not, he managed five miles at full run.”
“Wow. I can’t believe he didn’t keel over from a heart attack. Sheriff Lee, too.”
“When the horse finally stopped running, he lay down in the middle of the highway. Sheriff Lee kinda rolled off of him. We had the eastbound lane blocked for a good half hour.”
“But they’re both okay?”
“The paramedics checked out Sheriff Lee and said he’s fine, but he’s going to be sore as heck. Both of them received oxygen.”
“The horse received oxygen?”
“Apparently, he needed it. Anyway, a friend of Lee’s brought a trailer and they managed to get the horse on his feet and in it. The horse and Lee are officially on medical leave.”
“And the deputy?”
“Sprained wrist. Probably from trying to break his fall. I feel bad, though. Guy does me a favor and ends up injured.”
I nodded; the deputy’s situation was unfortunate, but I was relieved that there were no major injuries due to Gertie’s “mistake.” Given the players, it could have gone the other direction.
“Well, I’m glad everyone’s all right. More or less. That poor horse.”
Carter nodded. His smile had slipped away as he’d relayed the story, and I could see fatigue setting in.
“You look tired and frustrated,” I said.
“That’s probably because I’m tired and frustrated.”
“Did you catch the guy who hurt Hot Rod?”
Carter shook his head. “No. And that’s all I can say on the matter.”
“That sucks. Not the ‘all you can say’ part, but the part where you haven’t caught the guy. Ida Belle, Gertie, and I went to the hospital this afternoon.” I figured it was better for me to offer up the information. That way, it would appear innocent, whereas if I didn’t offer it up, he might think we were up to something.
“Why?” he asked. “They won’t let anyone into ICU except immediate family, of which there’s not any. Besides, I’ve got a guard on the door, and he’s been instructed to turn away everyone but medical personnel on a very short list I supplied him with.”
“I know, and I told Ida Belle and Gertie that would probably be the case, but apparently, there’s some Southern requirement to grease the medical staff?”
“Ah. It’s old-school, but given that Ida Belle just did business with him and he has no family, she would have felt obligated.”
“That’s what she said. I think it’s nice…in a what-the-hell-happens-if-you’re-not-bribing-people-to-do-their-job sort of way.”
He laughed. “They’d all be offended if you called it a bribe. It’s more of an appreciation thing. Kinda like tips for great service at a restaurant.”
“Except it’s prepaid,” I pointed out. “The nurse couldn’t tell us anything, but her expression said he’s not doing well.”
Carter sobered and shook his head. “No. He’s still critical, and the doctor says it’s too soon to tell. I hate this. Sometimes the vehicles he sells get people in hot water and more than a few have wound up in the ER, but he’s a good guy. The only problem I’ve ever had with him is speeding.”
“Makes sense. Are you hungry? I still have some roast beef.”
“I grabbed a sandwich earlier. I don’t think I’m going to get off in time for grilling, so our dinner is still on hol
d.”
“No problem. I won’t starve.”
“But if you want to come over for dessert, I wouldn’t complain.”
“Yeah, about that. I’m going to have to go on a short-term diet.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Why? What’s up?”
“Why does something have to be up?”
“Because it’s you.”
“Well, nothing is up this time, except a problem with Ida Belle’s plumbing. She has a leak and had to turn off the water to her house, so she’s staying with me a couple days until some buddy of hers can take a look at it. He’s giving her the friends-are-free deal.”
“Why isn’t she staying with Gertie?”
“Gertie sleepwalks.”
“So?”
“She also sleeps in the nude.”
Carter stared at me in dismay. “Please don’t provide details as to how you know that. I don’t want to live with those images in my head.”
“Something we can both agree on.”
“Okay, so you’re putting up Ida Belle. So what? She’s a big girl and can sleep alone. And even if you’ve not told her about our sleepovers, I’m sure she knows. Ida Belle knows about everything that happens in Sinful, sometimes before it even happens. If she had any interest in working and I thought I wouldn’t want to shoot myself, I’d hire her as a deputy just for the intelligence gathering.”
“Oh, I’m sure they both know. They’ve said as much although I refuse to provide details, much to Gertie’s dismay. But I would feel bad leaving her here alone, and I’m sure it would be considered bad manners to abandon a guest in your home, even a capable one like Ida Belle.”
He sighed, but I knew I had him with the manners argument. For all his practicality, Carter was still his mother’s son, and Emmaline was a study in Southern manners. If she found out I was playing house with Carter while I had company, he’d never hear the end of it.
“It’s only a couple of days,” I said, hoping that was really the case. “Besides, you look like you could use some rest, and I’m not all that restful.”