Happy Birthday, Marge

by Shari Hearn

  “But you tried to sue him over the trip.”

  She scrunched up her face. “He included the Myrtles Plantation at the last minute. Everybody knows that place is haunted. Gave me emotional distress. Stupid judge threw my case out.”

  I could tell by the look on Barb’s face that she was still angry about that trip.

  Once we were out of Barb’s sister’s house and walking back to Gertie’s Caddy, I posed the question to my two cohorts. “Why did the burglars bother to wake Barb and the Pollard victim up? Why give law enforcement any information about them, especially that one of them uses a sword? And why bypass all the expensive stuff in the china cabinet?”

  “Maybe that’s why Carter’s thinking it was a ruse,” Ida Belle said. “Sounds like the things stolen have little value.”

  “That we know of,” I said. “Gus Westerfield isn’t here to tell us what was stolen from his house.” I stretched my neck. “Here’s a crazy thought. Do you think Barb would carry a grudge about Gus taking her to the Myrtles Plantation and kill him?”

  Ida Belle drew her head back. “Yes, that’s crazy. Barb carried a grudge about Marge beating her at things for years and never tried to kill her. Besides, Gus was killed by someone who knew how to handle a sword.”

  “We should head on over to the Hoovers, see what they can tell us.”

  We approached the car and Ida Belle stopped and looked at Gertie. “Why did you ask if Barb saw Marge?”

  Gertie shrugged. “No reason.”

  “You seemed serious.”

  Gertie glanced my way, causing Ida Belle to shift her focus to me. “What’s going on?”

  I sighed. “Gertie thinks Marge’s spirit is hanging around for her birthday party.”

  Ida Belle considered the thought and smiled. “Wouldn’t it be like Marge to come back and make sure everything’s just right?”

  “You don’t think I’m crazy, like Barb?” asked Gertie.

  Ida Belle shook her head. “No. I just think you’re missing Marge.”

  Gertie unlocked her door and faced Ida Belle. “I’m always missing Marge. But it feels different, as if a part of her is really here.”

  “I’d give anything to feel a part of her here,” Ida Belle said.

  “Well so would I. I’d just like a little notice. I don’t want to turn around in my dark house and run into her. Or run through her.” Gertie crossed her arms as if the temperature had just dropped 50 degrees.

  “You want her to send a postcard first?” I asked.

  “That would be nice,” Gertie said. “Special delivery from Heaven. ‘Dear Gertie, I’m stopping by at three. Have some pie and coffee ready.’”

  Ida Belle laughed. “When you get the postcard, let me know. I have a thousand things I’d like to ask her.”

  I felt eyes on us and spotted Barb looking at us through the window. “Barb’s watching.”

  Gertie opened her door, stopped before sliding into the driver’s seat. “I’m serious. What if Barb’s not as crazy as she seems? What if those invisible people she talks to really ARE spirits. Maybe what we take for crazy is her gift. Maybe that’s why the trip to Myrtle Plantation freaked her out. It is considered one of the most haunted homes in Louisiana.”

  Ida Belle crossed over to the passenger side of the Caddy and opened her door. “She doesn’t see dead people. She just sees what’s in her mind.”

  Minutes later we were at the Hoovers, handing Audrey Hoover the same invitation to Marge’s party we’d given to Barb Geroux. I’d only heard good things about Scott and Audrey Hoover on the ride over to their house, but their reactions to being invited to Marge’s party were interesting, to say the least.

  Was Audrey’s hand shaking?

  “We’ve never been invited to her birthday parties before.”

  Gertie waved her off. “Marge left instructions that she wanted a bigger party this year. We’re inviting people Marge liked who weren’t in the Sinful Ladies Society. I know Marge and Scott bonded over their love of guns, so we just thought it would be fitting for you two to be invited.”

  “That’s so nice of you.” Scott joined Audrey in the doorway and took the card from her still slightly trembling hand. Their eyes quickly met before they both looked away from one another.

  “Hey, speaking of your gun collection,” I said to Scott, “it’s a good thing whoever burglarized your house didn’t make off with any of your guns.”

  Scott made a show of wiping his hand across his forehead. “You got that right. Some of those guns are worth a pretty penny.”

  “Just a few pieces of jewelry, huh?” Ida Belle asked.

  Audrey nodded. “We’re still taking inventory, but, as far as we know, the only thing taken was the jewelry box with the cheap stuff in it. I had my expensive jewelry locked in the gun vaults.”

  Gertie ran her hand along the lock on the door. “Someone broke in through this door?”

  Audrey shook her head. “The back door. We’ve since replaced the lock with something stronger.” But she made no movement to let us in to take a look.

  “Mind if we see the door?” Gertie asked. “I’m going to fortify my locks and want to see what kind would be good to buy.”

  Scott smiled. “Of course. Come on in. It’s a little bit of a mess because we’re going through everything to see if anything else was stolen, so you’re going to have to step over a few things.”

  He wasn’t kidding. All the shelves and cabinets were emptied onto the sofa, chairs and coffee table, with many of the larger items on the floor.

  Scott gestured to the mess. “We’re meticulous receipt holders, so we’re matching everything we’ve bought with a receipt.”

  I extended my hand to Scott as we walked. “We’ve never officially met. I’m Fortune Morrow. Well, that’s my nickname. I’m Sandy-Sue. Marge Boudreaux was my great-aunt.”

  Scott stopped. “Yes. I’m so sorry we haven’t been by to say ‘hello.’ We get busy and forget our manners.”

  He shook my hand and Audrey extended hers to shake.

  “We loved Marge,” Audrey said, partly to the ground with an occasional glance up at me. “We moved here about ten years ago and Marge was always so kind to us.” She gave me a pursed-lip smile. What was she hiding?

  “We’re from up North,” Scott said, “so being Yankees, some people just didn’t take to us.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said, smiling.

  They started walking again and led us through the office where everything was out of the file drawers and piled up on the floor.

  “Just making sure no client files were taken,” Scott said.

  I glanced curiously at a paper shredder set up near the file folders that looked like it needed to be emptied.

  “Taking the opportunity to clear out some old files,” Scott explained. “I doubt the IRS is interested in receipts from twenty years ago. All these old files are taking over our home.”

  I wouldn’t know. I’m a serial non-hoarder. I always figure if I get audited no IRS agent alive would cross a CIA agent. “Did my great-aunt do much business with you?”

  Audrey looked away as she shook her head.

  Scott smiled. “She and I spoke a lot about guns, and she took a liking to some of them, but she wasn’t interested in collecting guns that old.”

  We followed him to the back door and he pointed to the lock. “Well, that’s what we replaced our old lock with.”

  Gertie leaned in to take a closer look. “I’ll have Walter order it for me.”

  “Were there any footprints leading up to the door?” I asked.

  Audrey was quick to jump in. “Why do you ask?”

  I shrugged. “Just curious, I guess. Just in case I notice any outside my door.”

  Scott unlocked the back door and opened it. “Not really, no. We have grass back here and it rained the night before we got back from New Orleans. I don’t know when we were burglarized, but the rain flattened the grass, so whoever was here came before the rains.”


  “You heard about Gus Westerfield?” asked Ida Belle.

  Scott blew out a breath. “Yes. Terrible thing.”

  “And Barb Geroux was robbed as well,” Gertie added.

  “Yes, by a sword-wielding man,” Audrey said. “At least I heard she thought it was a man. Maybe it was a woman who used a deep voice.” She was looking at me when she said it. “Marge owned a sword, didn’t she?”

  I shrugged.

  “You have discovered her weapons vault, haven’t you?” Scott asked.

  I was stunned. I thought only Gertie, Ida Belle and I knew about her secret weapons vault built into her bedroom closet. I had accidentally discovered it while searching for hangers. She could equip a small army with what she had in that vault. I must have looked taken aback, because Scott clarified his remarks. “I supplied her with plans for a vault, similar to the kind I have. I assume she used them for her weapons collection. And I also recall her discussing her swords with me.”

  “Marge was an excellent swordswoman,” Ida Belle said. “She used to compete in fencing tournaments when she was younger.”

  Gertie nodded. “You wouldn’t believe the fortified bras those gals have to wear to compete at fencing.”

  I had been so mesmerized by Marge’s collection of guns I probably overlooked her sword collection. Maybe it was time I took an inventory of that secret room in Marge’s closet.

  I stepped through the door and scanned the yard. Scott and Audrey’s house didn’t back up to the bayou but rather had an alley between their property and the houses behind them. Celia’s house, in fact, was the one straight across from theirs.

  “They broke the door window and just reached inside and opened it.” Scott shook his head. “I was so stupid not to get the house alarmed, what with all the antique guns I have in the house. But they’re all locked in vaults, so I felt pretty secure.”

  I looked down at the ground next to the concrete pad in front of the door, noticing a few shards of glass, presumably from the back-door window. And I noticed something else. A small indentation in the dirt, about an inch around. I looked up and saw that there was an overhang, which would have protected that area from rainwater. I pointed to the indentation. “Do you know what that’s from?”

  Scott looked down and cocked his head. “I have no idea. It looks the size of a broom handle. Maybe they used that to break the glass. Deputy LeBlanc must have thought it was significant because he took a photograph of it.”

  I looked back at Celia’s house. “Celia has a new dog. Didn’t he bark when the burglar was breaking in?”

  “Not that dog,” Scott said. “That’s the friendliest dog I’ve ever seen. The first time I met him he didn’t let out a peep. Just wagged his tail.”

  “But we’ll be getting one now,” Audrey said, her eyes boring into me. “A big, mean one that bites first and barks later.”

  After we said our goodbyes, we walked back to Gertie’s car.

  “Did Audrey seem unusually nervous and a bit hostile?” I asked.

  Gertie nodded. “I’ll say. Especially toward you.”

  “It can’t be that I’m a Yankee. They’re Yankees too.”

  “It seemed as if there was something they didn’t want to say in front of us,” Ida Belle said.

  “Hey, here’s a wild theory.” And why not toss out another wild theory? I’d read that cases are often cracked by thinking out of the box. “What if Scott and Audrey are behind their own robbery? To take the focus away from themselves?”

  Gertie slid into the car. “First you think it’s Barb, now you think it’s the Hoovers?”

  I shrugged. “Hey, everybody’s a suspect, but I think this theory has legs. Think about it. Barb Geroux said she could tell the man with the sword wasn’t from around here by his accent. And the Hoovers were very nervous, especially Audrey.”

  “We’ve known them for a few years,” Ida Belle said. “Not that I don’t think it’s not possible, but neither one has struck me as capable of murder.”

  “Trust me,” I said as I buckled myself in, “everyone is capable if they have the right motive. Greed, self-defense, desperation, revenge. Sometimes just being pushed into a corner is enough to make someone snap. And that Audrey? She had the look of someone who feels cornered.”

  Chapter Seven

  AS IT TURNED OUT, CARTER and I did more meteor watching than making out, snuggled together in the bed of his truck facing the sky. Though it was still early, it was a new moon, so the sky was just dark enough to spot the Perseid meteors streaking through the sky. After spotting our first streaker, we hopped in the back and snuggled, gazing upward as the universe put on a show for us. I then had a realization. Resting my head in the crook of his arm. Feeling his warmth. Listening to his heart beat. It was a different kind of action. Not a bad way to spend a half hour.

  My interaction with the Hoovers was still niggling at me, though, and I was trying to figure out a subtle way to pump Carter for information.

  He beat me to it. “Hey, I noticed Gertie’s car in front of the Hoover’s today.”

  I lifted my eyes to meet his. “Are you spying on us?” Always good to go on attack first.

  “No. Are you interfering in my investigation?”

  “You WERE spying on us.”

  “I happened to drive by. I was just wondering if the Terrible Two decided to get involved and dragged you along.”

  “We were delivering an invitation to Marge’s party.”

  He brushed an errant hair from my face. “To the Hoovers? I thought Marge’s parties were Sinful Lady affairs, with an occasional outsider like Walter and Marie invited from time to time.”

  “Not this year. We have a guest list of fifty. We would have invited you, but I’ll be wearing a baggy Hawaiian shirt and a blinking hat. You’d never want to make out with me after that.”

  “And did you invite Barb Geroux as well?”

  He was smiling as I broke free from his embrace and sat up. “What are you getting at?”

  “I think you’re trying to pump them for information,” he said.

  I flashed him my most innocent face. “Maybe I just want to make sure Merlin and I are safe in Sinful. You have to admit, this place has an unusually high crime rate. Sometimes I think I’d be safer taking my chances with Ahmad in the Middle East.” I cringed. Even for me that was pretty lame. “Oh,” I said, as if I’d just innocently thought of it, “I noticed a small circular indent in the dirt next to the door. Mr. Hoover said he thought it was a broom handle. He also said you took a photo of it.”

  “You ARE trying to interfere,” he said.

  “Just testing my observation skills. If you ask me it looks like it could be the rubber tip on the leg of a step ladder, not a broom.”

  His eyes widened. His mouth formed a grimace. “Oh no.”

  “No, what?”

  “Testing your observation skills? Have you given any thought to what you’ll be doing after you leave the CIA?”

  He was on to me. I shook my head innocently. “Who knows, maybe Walter will open a branch of his general store along the highway and will want me to be the manager.”

  With a look of dread on his face, he said, “You’re thinking of becoming some sort of private investigator.”

  “Investigator?” I laughed.

  “I saw some books on that topic at your house.” He clutched at his stomach.

  I nodded. “Maybe I’m thinking of becoming a writer. Did you ever think of that? I’ve got the background in the CIA. I know weapons.”

  He relaxed. “You had me worried there for a minute.” His phone alarm beeped and he groaned. “Time to get back to work.”

  He drove me home and we took a moment, okay a few moments, to say goodbye with our lips. I hoped he hadn’t noticed Ida Belle’s SUV parked a few houses away, waiting for him to leave so we could sneak into the park and install Marge’s bench.

  I left his truck and walked around to his window to give him one more quick, good-bye
kiss. “So what are you and the Terrible Two up to tonight?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “That’s Ida Belle’s new SUV parked a few houses down, right? And that’s Gertie in the front seat watching us with a pair of binoculars, right?” He started his engine. “Whatever it is, keep it legal.”

  Carter flashed his lights at Ida Belle as he passed them. Seconds later they were parked in my driveway. Gertie hopped out of the front seat and gave me the once-over. “You’re not even flushed and nothing’s on inside out.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you actually watched the meteor shower.”

  “We had a very romantic evening,” I told her. “Except when I asked him for information about that mark in the dirt I saw at the Hoover’s. He suspects I’m interested in becoming a private investigator.”

  “You really know how to kill a moment,” Gertie said. “Are you trying to remain celibate all your life?”

  I ignored the question. “You have Marge’s bench in the back?”

  She nodded. “We had to put down one of the captain’s chairs in the middle row, but we got it in.”

  “Are you two sure about doing this without the blessing of the City Council? Celia would love nothing better than to have the three of us arrested.”

  Ida Belle got out of the SUV and sighed. “Look, if you’re feeling scared about tonight’s mission, feel free to stay home.”

  “Marge’s home,” Gertie emphasized. “Help yourself to a beer from Marge’s frig. Or have a long shower in Marge’s guest bathroom with the oversized shower head she installed. And dry yourself off with the plush towels she bought. Lay your head on her soft pillows. Dream of her gun collection, some of which have saved your life. We’ll make sure the Marge Boudreaux Memorial Park Bench is installed in time for her birthday.”

  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it. I’m just saying that things are going real nice between Carter and me and I’d like it if he didn’t have to arrest me. And just among the three of us? The towels may be plush, but they aren’t that absorbent.” Yeah, it was a petty, “so there!” moment, but I was tired of how they always tried to trick and manipulate me. And I made an internal vow right then never to let it happen again.