Swamp Sniper

by Jana DeLeon

  My stomach grumbled the whole drive home, and that ham sandwich seemed permanently affixed in my mind, which made sense. After all, I’d been up for hours, doing manual labor, and all I’d had to eat was a couple of eggs. The stress of the morning alone had probably worked those off as I swallowed.

  When I got home, I headed straight to my bedroom and shed the wet clothes, tossing them across the shower rod to be dealt with later, then toweled off and pulled on shorts and T-shirt. The long, hot shower I’d envisioned before had taken a backseat to my rumbling stomach.

  I did pause long enough to wash off the questionable foot with soap and water, but the rest of me was going to wait until after I ate. My stomach rumbled like a jet engine as I hurried back downstairs, and my head started to pound. I needed calories and I needed them fast.

  I had just polished off the last bite of toast with homemade blackberry jam when I heard a knock at my back door. I’d been researching household poisons while I ate, so I closed the laptop before I jumped up to answer. I flung open the door, expecting to find my friend Ally standing there, and blinked in surprise when I saw Celia Arceneaux on my back porch.

  “Can I come in?” Celia asked.

  “Of course,” I said and stepped back to allow her inside. “I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Would you like a cup?”

  She shook her head. “I just need to say my piece.”

  “Okay.” My curiosity piqued a bit because I had zero idea what “piece” Celia thought needed saying, especially to me.

  “I heard about everything happening,” Celia said, “including what that silly woman, Paulette, said when they were hauling Ted’s body away.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” I said. “I doubt the prosecutor puts much stock in the rantings of hysterical wives, even in Louisiana.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, but with the poison being arsenic, it gives a whole different set of things to consider, and none of them good for Ida Belle.”

  I stared. “How do you know what killed him? I didn’t think they’d released any information yet?”

  “I have my sources, same as the Sinful Ladies. Let’s just say I have a friend of a friend down at the coroner’s office.”

  Well, it just figured. I’d spent my entire morning risking my cover, my physical health, my tennis shoes, and my mental stability, and all of my not-so-stealthy ability had been supplanted by another nosy old woman with the right connections.

  “Okay, but even if we assume your source is right, why do you think that arsenic specifically implicates Ida Belle?”

  “Everyone knows she’s had a gopher problem for years. She insists on growing that damned bamboo in her backyard, and gophers just love that stuff. She’s spent a year or more fighting those critters.”

  I blinked, wondering if Celia had been dipping into some Sinful Ladies cough syrup. “What the heck does Ida Belle’s gopher problem have to do with anything?”

  Celia sighed. “I forget you’re a Yankee. You probably live in one of those sterile high-rise buildings with fake plants and even faker neighbors. Arsenic is one of the ingredients in gopher poison, and I happen to know Ida Belle has a bag of it because I was at the General Store when she picked up the order.”

  My mind flashed back to the bag Carter had removed from Ida Belle’s storage shed and I frowned. Maybe Celia was onto something.

  “So anyway,” Celia continued, “I want you to know that I don’t believe for one minute that Ida Belle killed that fool Ted. Ida Belle is a lot of things, but mostly she’s efficient. She’d never waste time and energy killing someone who doesn’t matter one whit in the big scheme of things.”

  I stared at her for a moment, marveling over this apparently small-town, Southern method of determining innocence and guilt. Perhaps it was as simple as the good among them all considering “wasting time” a sin.

  “I agree with you,” I said.

  “Good. Then you’ll find the real killer.”

  “Me? I’m a librarian,” I said, remembering my cover. I held up my hands. “That’s not something I’m remotely trained for.”

  Celia narrowed her eyes at me. “But you caught my Pansy’s killer.”

  “A more accurate description is I narrowly escaped being killed myself by Pansy’s killer.”

  Celia frowned. “Well, if you want to get picky, I suppose that’s true. But still, you managed to put together more than any of the rest of us would have ever figured out because we were too close to the people involved. Being new in town, you have the advantage of being able to see everyone as a suspect.”

  “Like the way everyone in town sees me?”

  Celia gave me a rueful smile. “Something like that.”

  “Even if we assume what you say is true, I also have the disadvantage that the locals won’t lay their secrets at my footstep. In fact, a lot of them won’t even make eye contact.”

  Celia frowned. “True, and everyone knows you’re friends with Ida Belle, so the guilty party certainly won’t be sharing confidences with you any more than they would Gertie.”

  “Exactly.”

  Her eyes widened a bit and I saw her energy level spike. “But I can be your ears.”

  I was fairly sure I didn’t want Celia serving as any of my body parts, but I’d never seen her this excited, so before I could stop myself I asked, “What do you mean?”

  “Through the GWs. Granted, most of them are so silly I’m amazed they can walk without tripping, but I have a trusted few who have their wits about them and are in complete agreement with me on this situation.”

  Celia nodded, her expression growing more and more animated. “In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realize what a wonderful idea it is. Given my past with Ida Belle, I’m the perfect confidante for anyone who wants to see her go down.”

  I put my hands up to stop her before she went any further. “Hold up. I don’t disagree with anything you’ve said. However, do you realize you’re suggesting that you attempt to engage in personal conversation with a murderer?”

  Celia froze and I saw the flicker of fear in her eyes.

  “I’m not trying to be mean,” I continued, “but Pansy’s situation came as a total shock to you, and you had been around the killer every day of your life. You said before that I can see things you don’t because I’m basically a stranger and that’s true, but the opposite is true as well. Without even knowing it, you could put yourself or your friends in a lot of danger.”

  Celia’s shoulders slumped. “You’re right. I guess I didn’t think things through.”

  “It’s only been a week since everything in your life changed,” I said quietly. “Give yourself a break.”

  She gave me a small smile. “I know it’s not common knowledge and you probably don’t even want it to be, but you’re a nice person, Fortune.”

  “Yeah, I’d rather that didn’t get out.” Especially since I wasn’t nearly as convinced of my “niceness” as Celia was.

  “Regardless,” Celia said, “I’m still going to beat you to Francine’s on Sunday, even if I have to cheat.” She made the sign of the cross and looked upward, probably asking for pre-forgiveness for whatever cheating she had planned.

  I smiled, not even remotely worried about her plans. Unless the Catholics had acquired Usain Bolt or planned on shooting me, I wasn’t worried. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  She gave me a nod. “I should get out of here before someone sees me. I have a reputation to protect.”

  “Of course,” I said as I walked to the back door and pulled it open. “And no sleuthing, right?”

  She sighed. “No sleuthing, but if I notice anything unusual, I’ll let you know.”

  I raised one eyebrow. Like anything in Sinful was normal. “My version of unusual or yours?”

  “Ha!” she laughed and slipped out the door without answering.

  I pulled the door shut behind her and sank back down into my chair. Her idea wasn’t an awful one. Ted had attended the Ca
tholic church, so Celia would have access to any services, visitation with the widow, and all other Southern small-town traditional things. Gertie and I could hardly expect to be welcome at any of those, and based on the arsenic information Celia had provided, Ida Belle might not even be at liberty to go home.

  I shook my head. No matter how bad things looked, my launching an investigation using Sinful residents as informants was too much of a risk. Civilians weren’t trained to spot killers or protect themselves if they got backed into a corner. It was one thing for me to run around playing Bond girls with Ida Belle and Gertie. They had military training they’d managed to hide from the Sinful population for decades, so role-playing was second nature. But random residents would assume a huge risk playing detective.

  I blew out a breath and slumped down lower in the chair. I was more than a little worried about the gopher poison. If Celia was right about Ida Belle being the only person in Sinful with gopher problems, on the surface it looked like an open-and-shut case. Even though I was certain Carter didn’t think Ida Belle had murdered Ted, notoriously overworked and underpaid prosecutors didn’t take the personal feelings of local law enforcement into consideration when deciding to pursue an indictment.

  They only took into account what they could prove, and as things currently stood, all fingers pointed to Ida Belle.

  I drummed my fingers on the table, the facts of the situation running through my mind. If Ida Belle’s gopher problem was common knowledge, then everyone in Sinful probably knew about it. Which also meant that any number of them might know she had gopher poison.

  It would be a simple matter to sneak into Ida Belle’s shed and take a sample of the poison, and probably equally as simple to drive to New Orleans and pick up the same brand, assuming the killer knew what brand she used.

  The bottom line was, there was a killer in Sinful. Again.

  And this time, he’d framed one of the only people I had ever called a friend.

  A thought hit me and I sucked in a breath so hard, my head spun. What if the fatal bottle of cough syrup had been the one I’d given Ida Belle at the rally? My fingerprints would be all over it. If Carter decided to run those prints, I’d be in an even worse position than Ida Belle.

  I jumped up from the table and grabbed my car keys. My shower would have to wait.

  Gertie and I had an investigation to launch.

  ###

  I was halfway to Gertie’s house when my cell phone rang. I didn’t recognize the phone number and was surprised to find Ida Belle on the other end of the call.

  “They’re cutting me loose,” she said. “Can you pick me up? I don’t want Carter giving me a ride home. I’m more than a little miffed at him right now.”

  “Sure.” I pulled a U-turn in the middle of the street and headed for the sheriff’s department, my spirits picking up a bit. Maybe Ida Belle’s gopher poison hadn’t been a match for whatever killed Ted. Maybe this entire thing would only cost me a pair of tennis shoes and a bit of dignity.

  Ida Belle must have been watching from the window because as soon as I turned onto Main Street, she hurried out of the sheriff’s department and hopped into my Jeep before I’d even come to a complete stop. Figuring this was no time and place for chitchat, I pressed the accelerator and sped off. Ida Belle gave the building the finger as we pulled away.

  “I was on my way to Gertie’s when you called,” I said.

  “Good,” Ida Belle said. “We need to talk.”

  I glanced over at her. Her jaw was set and I could practically feel the tension coming off of her. I hoped it was leftover anger at Carter and the wasted morning, but somehow, I doubted it.

  She didn’t utter a word the entire ride, walked straight into Gertie’s house without even knocking and stalked down the hall to the kitchen, poured herself a cup of coffee, then sat at the kitchen table. Apparently hearing the commotion, Gertie came running downstairs dripping wet with soap all over her head and wearing a towel. Even more disturbing, she ran into the kitchen, her eyes clenched shut and waving a nine-millimeter.

  Ida Belle didn’t even blink. “Put that damned thing down before you shoot someone,” she said.

  “Ida Belle?” Gertie wiped one eye with her free hand. Unfortunately, that was also the hand holding the towel.

  Ida Belle shook her head. “I’m going to need a drink if you plan on conducting this meeting naked.”

  I covered my eyes with my hands. “I’m going to need therapy.”

  “To hell with both of you,” Gertie said and I heard her stomp off down the hall.

  I waited until I heard the pound of footsteps above me before removing my hands from my face. Ida Belle sat there, completely unfazed sipping her coffee.

  “If she doesn’t want people seeing her naked,” Ida Belle said, “she should lock her front door.”

  “That was my fault. I forgot to lock the door behind me when I left earlier.”

  Ida Belle raised one eyebrow. “Were Gertie’s legs broken?”

  “Well, actually…” I filled Ida Belle in on what had happened to me at the sheriff’s department, then explained how Gertie had managed to temporarily paralyze herself.

  During my recount, Ida Belle’s expression went from incredulous to shocked to amused. When she started laughing, I thought she’d never stop. She guffawed, then chortled, then wheezed, then chortled more before finally collapsing on top of the breakfast table, gasping for air.

  I was just considering CPR when Gertie came back into the kitchen, this time fully clothed and sans the nine-millimeter. She took one look at Ida Belle and shook her head. “I guess you told her about our morning?”

  “Yeah. Like you, she seems to have gotten a much bigger kick out of it than I did.”

  Ida Belle wheezed again, her shoulders still shaking.

  “Can she breathe?” Gertie asked.

  “I’m not sure I care,” I shot back.

  Gertie poured us both a cup of coffee. By the time she’d taken a seat, Ida Belle was upright and semi-composed.

  “You’re awfully cheerful for someone who’s been accused of murder,” I said.

  Ida Belle waved a hand in dismissal. “I didn’t kill anyone and Carter knows it.”

  I shook my head. “No matter what Carter knows, he has to turn over all the evidence to the district attorney. They make the decision, and I’ve got to tell you, it doesn’t look good.”

  The smile faded from Ida Belle’s face. “What do you know?”

  “During my adventures in bathroom destruction, I found out that Ted was poisoned with arsenic. According to Celia, who paid me a visit earlier to offer you her anonymous support and who had already gotten that bit of information from a friend at the coroner’s office, everyone knows you had gopher problems. My guess is the gopher poison is what Carter removed from your shed.”

  “Shit,” Ida Belle said.

  Gertie gasped. “What do you think will happen?”

  “If that cough syrup bottle contains trace evidence of the poison, then Carter will pull the prints and turn everything over to the DA.”

  Ida Belle’s shoulders slumped. “I gave him a bottle of cough syrup after the rally.”

  “Shit,” I said, repeating Ida Belle’s earlier sentiment. “Both our prints are on there.”

  Ida Belle’s eyes widened. “What happens if Carter runs your prints?”

  I blew out a breath. “They should pop back as Sandy-Sue’s, but my boss at the CIA will get an alert.”

  “And that will be bad?” Gertie asked.

  “That will be very, very bad,” I said, the possibilities of fallout too numerous and unpleasant to even consider at the moment.

  We all sat in silence for a bit, each of us lost in our thoughts. Then my cell phone rang, its shrill tone ripping through the silence of the kitchen and startling all of us. I pulled it out of my pocket, my heart plummeting into my feet when I saw the display.

  Harrison.

  Chapter Six

  I answered
Harrison’s call, then moved the phone a couple of inches from my ears to protect myself from the yelling I knew would come.

  “What the hell is going on there?” Harrison’s voice boomed out of the phone so loud that it echoed across the room.

  Since everyone could hear him anyway, I pressed the speaker button and put the phone down on the kitchen table, motioning to Ida Belle and Gertie to be quiet. “Could you be more specific?” I asked.

  “Damn it, Redding, don’t play dumb with me. Deputy LeBlanc just ran your prints so you best tell me why because when Morrow comes down here ready to shoot someone if they don’t have answers, I want to give the man what he wants.”

  I looked over at Ida Belle and Gertie, who both sat frozen, staring at the phone. “There was a bit of a problem here today,” I said finally.

  “What kind of problem requires the deputy to run your prints?”

  “The murder kind of problem?” I cringed, waiting for the bomb to drop.

  “Jesus H. Christ! You’ve got one of the most dangerous men in the world looking under every leaf, rock, and grain of sand on the planet for you, and you still can’t manage to keep a low profile. What kind of threat does it take to make you invisible?”

  “The wrath of God?” I replied, hoping a bit of levity would improve the situation.

  “Ahmad’s wrath is far worse,” Harrison said. “And when Morrow finds out, he may fly down there and kill you himself. The man’s hair started thinning since you’ve been gone, and I swear I’ve aged ten years trying to keep him from knowing more than he already does.”

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done—”

  “I can’t cover this one up,” he interrupted. “If Morrow finds out you’re down there essentially implicating his niece in a murder and that I hid it from him, he’ll fire me on the spot.”

  I knew he was right, so I didn’t bother to argue. “But my cover held, right?”

  “It’s holding…for now. But don’t be surprised if Morrow yanks you. This whole thing has been a mistake from the beginning. In fact, I’m going to start looking for a relocation site myself.”