by Jana DeLeon
Then she ran out of the kitchen like a bat out of hell.
I looked over at Gertie, a little shell-shocked.
Bones, Marie’s ancient bloodhound, lifted his head from his bed in the corner and stared as us both for a couple of seconds before lowering his head and snoring again.
“She’s good,” Gertie said. “How about you bring me a glass of milk and some cookies…make things look more authentic.”
I heard Marie open the front door and grabbed the milk and cookies for Gertie and myself. No sense in Gertie getting all the benefit of the cover-up. It wasn’t like she’d carried me for a block.
I shoved the milk and cookies in front of Gertie and hurried back behind the kitchen counter and grabbed a cookbook from a shelf just as Carter and Marie stepped into the kitchen.
He gave Gertie a suspicious nod, then took one look at me and raised his eyebrows. “Should I even ask?”
“I’m teaching her to bake,” Marie said, “or trying to anyway. It might be more expedient for the rest of us to continue to provide her with baked goods.”
Carter didn’t look even remotely convinced.
I shrugged. “What can I say? I have a skill for eating, but not necessarily for baking. I never knew it was this involved…or this messy.”
“So I’m supposed to believe you have been in here all evening baking?”
“No,” I said. “We’d just gotten started a little before you knocked on the door. Earlier, I was busy eating. You know, getting a taste for my future creations.”
“Uh-huh. How come you parked your Jeep around the corner?”
“There wasn’t any parking in front of Marie’s house when we got here,” Gertie chimed in. “Probably half of Sinful was delivering casseroles to Paulette.”
“I see, and why isn’t Ida Belle here in the middle of this cooking lesson?”
“We didn’t figure it was a good idea,” I said. “You know, with Paulette living across the street and all. And besides, she’s quilting with some of the Sinful Ladies Society.”
Carter shook his head, but he must have decided that we weren’t up to anything for a change or if we were, he’d never get it out of us, because he changed the subject and got down to the police business at hand.
“What exactly did you see, Marie?” he asked.
“Oh, well, I was straightening the living room—we’d been sitting in there before watching television—and I saw someone across the street. I thought it was odd because everyone had left for the vigil earlier, so I stepped up to the window to get a closer look.”
“And you saw someone enter Paulette’s back gate?”
“Two people, but their backs were to me. I didn’t see what they looked like at all.”
“What did you do then?” he asked.
“I yelled for Fortune and Gertie to come look but the people were already in the backyard. We waited a minute but they never came back out. Fortune said I should call you and as I was doing so, Paulette and her cousin pulled up. They went inside. We watched for a couple of minutes, then went back to the kitchen.”
Carter narrowed his eyes at her. “Just like that. You came back here as if nothing was going on?”
Marie shrugged. “All Ted has back there is an old grill. And it had gotten completely dark by then. For all I knew, they could have left already. I wouldn’t have been able to see them.”
Marie sucked in a breath. “Paulette and her cousin are okay, right? Those people didn’t go inside, did they?”
“As a matter of fact, they did. A back window was broken out and apparently, the men went up to the attic to hide when Paulette and her cousin Tony arrived home. Paulette went straight to her bedroom and Tony to the guest bathroom. The men tried to sneak out of the attic but Tony walked out of the bathroom before they made it downstairs. One of the men clubbed him with a crowbar and they both fled out of the back of the house.”
Marie’s hands flew over her mouth.
“Oh, my God,” Gertie said. “Is Tony all right?”
Carter nodded. “The guy wasn’t a good shot. Tony will have a hell of a bruise on his shoulder, but I don’t think anything’s broken.”
I shook my head. “What kind of people commit a robbery while the widow is at a vigil?”
At that moment, the box in my bra dug into my rib cage and I said a silent prayer that God wouldn’t send lightning right through Marie’s house and onto my head for my hypocrisy.
“I don’t know,” Carter said. “I have Paulette checking to figure out if anything is missing. They may not have had time to get anything. It’s a good thing you saw them, Marie.”
Marie shook her head. “Some days, I don’t know what this town is coming to.”
Her thoughts so closely mirrored Carter’s that I watched his face closely for a reaction. But apparently, when Carter was working, his innermost thoughts were locked tightly away, because his expression never changed.
“I’m sure opportunists exist in every town. Sinful has always had its share. I can’t say that I’ve seen any this crass, but then the whole world seems to be slipping in standards. Why should Sinful be any different?”
Marie sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Thanks for the information,” Carter said. “I better get back across the street before Paulette unloads on Deputy Breaux. It’s bound to happen before the night is over.”
He gave us a nod, then left the kitchen. Marie hurried behind him and we heard the front door close and lock before she ran back into the kitchen and collapsed into a chair across from Gertie.
“Oh my God,” she exclaimed. “I don’t know how you two do this sort of thing all the time. I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack.”
“We don’t do it all the time,” Gertie said. “It just seems that lately, the call for stealth has been a bit higher than usual.”
“You were really, really good,” I told Marie. “Like professional good. I would never have come up with that cover so quickly.”
Marie smiled. “That’s because you really don’t know a thing about baking. I just grasped at the one thing I turn to every time I’m in trouble. This time, it happened to save my butt instead of make it wider.”
“Hey, I don’t really have to cook something, do I?”
“No!” Both Gertie and Marie held their hands up.
“Well, don’t everyone give me their opinion at once. Jeez.”
Marie jumped up from her chair and hurried into the kitchen, apparently worried I might challenge her directive. “Take off that apron, wipe off your face, and grab yourself some cookies. I’ll put everything back in order.”
She didn’t have to tell me twice. I grabbed a handful of cookies from the counter and a soda from the refrigerator, and headed to the table.
“So what kind of pictures do you think those men were looking for?” Gertie asked.
“How do you know they were looking for pictures?” Marie asked.
“We heard them talking through the vents.” I reached into my sports bra and pulled out the box. “I don’t know what pictures they were looking for but I’m hoping they’re in here.”
Gertie’s eyes widened. “Where did you get that?”
“I stole it from that desk before we went out onto the roof.”
Marie sucked in a breath. “You went out—no, never mind. I don’t want to know.”
I pulled at the lid, but it was locked. “Do you have an ice pick?”
Marie shook her head. “I know it might be hard to believe but we’ve had refrigerators with ice makers for a lot of years.”
“Marie doesn’t fish,” Gertie said. “If we were at mine or Ida Belle’s we’d have an ice pick.”
“Anything small and thin,” I said.
Marie frowned for a minute, then brightened. “How about a knitting needle?”
“Perfect.”
She hurried to the living room and returned shortly with a long, thin needle. I inserted it in the lock and wiggled it around unt
il I heard a click. Marie leaned over me and Gertie scooted around the table to get a closer look as I lifted the lid. Inside was a stack of photographs.
I lifted the stack and looked at the first one. “I don’t get it. It’s a man and a woman, kissing in a bar.”
Marie’s hand flew up to cover her mouth and Gertie’s eyes widened. “Not just any man,” Gertie said. “That’s our banker and that woman is his wife’s sister.”
I flipped the photo over and moved to the next one.
“That’s one of the St. Claire brothers,” Marie said, pointing to the man smoking.
“He’s smoking a joint,” I said.
“Seriously?” Marie leaned over to get a better look at the photo. “I’ve never seen one in person. His mother would have a fit.”
“He’s a grown man,” I pointed out. “His mother would get over it.”
Gertie shook her head. “His younger brother died of a drug overdose. Nona St. Claire hasn’t been the same since. If she knew another of her boys was using…”
A bad feeling came over me and I flipped to the next picture. It was a picture of a beefy man entering a shack on the bayou. “Is there anything wrong with this situation?” I asked.
Gertie whistled. “Only if you take into account that man’s wife reported him missing at sea seven years ago and just had him declared legally dead.”
“Wishful thinking?” I asked.
“Insurance policy.”
I set the pictures down on the table. “I think I know what’s going on here.”
“What?” Gertie asked. “Because I’m completely lost.”
“I think our friend Ted was blackmailing people.”
“Oh my God,” Marie said and slumped into the chair next to me.
Gertie whistled. “And then he was using the money to buy stuff and give it to people, making him look like a good guy. What a tool.”
I nodded. “And what do you want to bet that some of the people he gave gifts to were the same people he was extorting money from?”
“No wonder the men seemed to tolerate him but not really like him.” Gertie shook her head. “That takes some kind of balls.”
“Not to mention running for mayor,” Marie pointed out. “What the heck was he thinking? People will kill over…”
“Exactly,” I said.
“But which one?” Gertie said. “There must be twenty photos here, and he may have more hidden somewhere else.”
Marie frowned. “I didn’t like Ted. He always gave you that look—you know, like he was mentally undressing you—but I never figured him to be this stupid or to take such a risk. Do you think he needed money that badly?”
“Maybe,” I said, “or maybe he was just doing what came naturally.”
“What do you mean?” Gertie asked.
“What do any of you really know about Ted’s life before he moved to Sinful?”
“Not much,” Gertie said. “And only what he’s said about it.”
I nodded. “So what if Ted didn’t inherit anything? What if he came here to hide from his past?”
“Hide in Sinful?” Marie asked. “It doesn’t seem a likely place.”
“Oh,” Gertie said, giving me an amused look, “I think Sinful is the perfect place to hide. Who would ever look here?”
“I see what you’re saying,” Marie said. “But we don’t know for sure that’s what happened.”
“I think it’s as good a guess as any,” I said. “Did either one of you know about the things going on in these photos?”
They both shook their heads.
“But yet, a man who’d only lived here for two years managed to get the dirt on everyone in town. How likely is that unless he’s done it before—often and well?”
“Not very,” Gertie said. “So what the hell do we do about it?”
“I think you should turn the photos over to Carter,” Marie said. “One person already died over them. I’m as worried about Ida Belle as you two, but I don’t want any more of the people I care about at risk. Tonight almost gave me a heart attack, and that was before I knew you went traipsing across the roof.”
I held in a sigh. Marie was one of the nicest people I’d ever met, and I hated disappointing her, but I was about to anyway. “I can’t turn the photos over to Carter without explaining how I got them. Somehow, I don’t think he’d take kindly to Gertie and me breaking and entering, especially as someone else did the same thing and assaulted one of the occupants.”
“Oh!” Marie’s face fell. “I hadn’t even thought about that.”
I ran through a number of possibilities for getting the photos to Carter, but none of them offered a chain of evidence without exposing myself. And without a chain of evidence, a judge would never allow the photos during trial.
It was the ultimate catch-22. I’d found evidence to prove why others would want Ted dead, and it was highly unlikely Carter would ever have found the evidence because he had no reason to execute a search warrant on Ted’s house. But I couldn’t use the evidence.
At least not through legal channels.
“I know that look,” Gertie said. “You’ve got an idea.”
“Two, actually.”
“Well, out with them. I’m not getting any younger.”
“First, we need to do some digging into Ted and Paulette’s past. Then we need to follow up on the people in these photos.”
“Follow up?” Marie asked. “You mean spy on them?”
I nodded. “Exactly.”
Chapter Thirteen
Ida Belle cleared out the Sinful Ladies and we reconvened at her house. Since Carter’s truck was still parked outside Paulette’s house, Marie stayed put to keep an eye on things and because I was afraid to involve her any more than she already was. It was also easier for me to talk when it was only Ida Belle and Gertie. Then I didn’t have to worry about maintaining cover.
Ida Belle was pacing like a caged animal by the time we got to her house. She opened the front door and started waving us into the house before I’d even put my Jeep in park. By the time we got inside, I thought she’d pop a cork.
“What happened?” Ida Belle asked as soon as she shut the front door. “Jesus, you left me hanging for hours.”
Gertie rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t hours and we were a little busy.”
“This isn’t a good time for that patience speech of yours,” Ida Belle warned.
I held my hands up to stop the barrage before it got started. “No need for violence.” I brought Ida Belle up to speed on everything that had happened and showed her the photos.
She grabbed the stack and flipped through them, exclaiming with every new reveal. “Wow. Ted really had the goods on people. I suspected a lot of these, but didn’t have proof.”
“You didn’t go looking for proof, either,” I pointed out.
“True.”
“I don’t understand,” Gertie said. “If Ted had so much money, why risk doing something like this? Even if he knew how to do it well, this is Louisiana, not Boston or wherever he’s supposed to be from. People will shoot you here.”
“People will shoot you in Boston, too,” I said, “but you make a valid point. If he didn’t need the money, then it must be for fun. But that makes him crazy.”
Ida Belle shook her head. “I don’t disagree with the crazy part, but I’m starting to wonder if the inheritance story wasn’t a lie.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
“One of the Sinful Ladies is a receptionist over at the bank. She said she overheard the loan guy talking about having to do a foreclosure on Ted and Paulette’s house. She’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, so I figured she’d heard wrong or gotten her facts mixed up, but after seeing those photos, I have to wonder.”
“If Ted was broke,” I said, “that effectively eliminates Paulette as a suspect. She has absolutely nothing to gain, especially if Ted’s blackmailing schemes were paying for all those spa visits.”
“Darn,” Gertie said. “Afte
r seeing how she decorated her house, I really wanted her behind bars. That shouldn’t be legal.”
“So what do we do now?” Ida Belle asked.
“First thing,” I said, “is going over these photos and making a list of everyone in them. Then I want you two to figure out if we can eliminate any of them from the suspect list.”
Ida Belle nodded. “You mean, like they were out of town the night of the rally…things like that.”
“Exactly.”
Ida Belle pointed toward the back of the house. “Head to the kitchen. I’ll go grab my laptop.”
Ida Belle hurried off upstairs for her laptop and I trailed after Gertie to the kitchen, where she started a pot of coffee. Ida Belle hustled back into the kitchen a minute later and slid into the chair next to me.
“You two talk,” I instructed as I pulled the laptop over in front of me and opened it. “I’ll take notes.”
Gertie slid into a chair next to Ida Belle and they started flipping through the photos, talking so fast I had to stop them occasionally to catch up and ask for clarification on some of the Creole and Cajun names that I had no idea how to spell. Finally, they delivered on the last photo and I looked at the list.
“Eighteen people,” I said. “Now, let’s see if we can narrow it down any.”
They spread the photos out in front of them and started up again.
“These six were offshore.”
“These two were working evenings on the road crew outside of New Orleans.”
“He was at his aunt’s funeral in Baton Rouge.”
“He moved to Alaska to work the pipeline, and this one moved to Texas.”
I verified names and tapped in the information as fast as my fingers would work. When they paused for a couple of seconds, I checked the list.
“That gets us down to seven,” I said. “Anyone else you can take off the list?”
Gertie shoved three photos over in front of Ida Belle. “Weren’t these three in jail in New Orleans?”
Ida Belle brightened. “That’s right!”
I paused. “All three…at the same time?”
“They were off on a gambling trip the weekend before the rally. They got a little drunk and tried to hold up the casino with water pistols. The casino management pressed charges.”