by Sam Cheever
I could have kicked myself for speaking without thinking. “Actually, no. He wasn’t. My father called me a couple of hours ago.”
Gertie grinned. “That’s really good news.”
“Yes. It is.” I frowned.
“That’s not exactly your happy face, Felicity,” Gertie probed gently.
I dithered silently. My gut told me to keep everything we knew to myself. After all, we didn’t know anybody in Sinful and we had no idea who might be after my father. But somehow I didn’t think the two friendly but nosy old women in the front seat were hired guns. And they did know the goings on in Sinful better than Cal or I ever would. So I decided to take a chance.
As Ida Belle drove the old pickup out of town, in the direction Cal and I had gone that morning to speak to Lyle Borne, I laid out everything we’d learned so far, including the recent discovery of the push pole.
They listened quietly and then Gertie said. “We really should get Fortune.”
“We can’t,” her partner in crime said a little more firmly than warranted. The old ladies shared a look. “She has a…thing.”
Gertie bit her bottom lip and nodded. “You’re right. It’s just that this sounds like it’s right up her all—”
“So, Felicity, what information do you need from Lena?” Ida Belle interrupted her friend.
Fascinated as I was by the interplay between the two women, I was relieved to have their help with the investigation. Lena Borne knew them and she would probably open up to them much more quickly than she would to me. “I need to find out where Lyle was at the time Bubba was killed.”
“You really think Lyle killed Bubba?”
I shrugged. “Right now he’s our strongest suspect.”
“I have seen those PVC pipe push poles before,” Ida Belle offered. “I think they come from a shop in Mudbug but Lena sells them in her shop.”
That probably explained Deputy LeBlanc’s visit to Mudbug. “Add that to Bubba’s boat parked at his dock, the alligator hunting thing, and the fact that he himself admitted he found the body and didn’t turn it in…” I trailed off, letting the women come to their own conclusion.
“Okay. We’ll find out where Lyle was. Anything else?” Ida Belle asked.
“We need to figure out…if it was Lyle…why he wants my father dead.”
Gertie’s eyes widened. “That one might be harder.”
“Yeah. I know. But there’s some connection between Bubba’s murder and my father. I just need to figure out what it is.”
The truck rumbled over an old, wooden bridge that I didn’t remember from our earlier drive. A weathered wooden sign was painted with the words, Alligator Bridge. Francine’s story about Bubba riding the bike out of town in this direction played through my mind. I wondered if he’d been heading for Lena’s shop. “Her shop’s pretty far out of town isn’t it?”
“She used to have a shop on Main Street but Lena decided it was too expensive to maintain. So she bought an old fishing shack right on the bayou and she says she gets twice the traffic from fishermen and tourists now. It’s really kind of a cool place,” Gertie said.
Ida Belle slowed and turned at a sign that read simply, Lena’s.
We bounced down a rutted dirt drive that wound through a veritable forest of big old cypress trees. The thick drape of Spanish moss gave the place an old world, slightly haunted feeling that made me shiver.
Straight ahead was a small cabin on tall stilts, its weathered sides were nearly black with age and the tin roof was pitted and stained but otherwise looked to be in pretty good shape.
A single car sat in the small gravel lot. It was a tan Buick four door, as nondescript as a car could be.
As we climbed out of the truck something screamed out on the bayou. The sound was pitched high with terror and I jumped, wincing.
Ida Belle chuckled. “Gator’s got to eat.”
I shuddered in revulsion. Survival of the fittest was not my favorite of Mother Nature’s laws.
A cheerful bell sounded as we opened the door. The smell of cinnamon hit me as I entered the shop, a soft breeze wafting it around the room. The place was bright and airy, the walls made of old wood painted a bright, clean white. A variety of fishing items filled the right half of the store, and on the other side were several racks filled with purses like the one I’d gotten and leather belts. I guessed they were alligator, though I didn’t know if it was genuine. A circular rack in the center of the space held a collection of straw hats, some plain and utilitarian, and some covered in bright feathers and pretty flowers. A few of them had veils tacked along the brim, no doubt for keeping mosquitoes and other flying pests away from the wearer’s face.
I was drawn into the shop like a moth to a flame, barely noting the arrival of Lena Borne as I reached to fondle the pretty straw hats.
“You must be Felicity Chance.”
I turned to find a woman about my height, with blonde hair and slightly tilted green eyes. Her face was pretty, with high cheekbones and a delicate nose. I had a lot of trouble putting her together with her brother Lyle.
I shook the offered hand. “Lena?”
She inclined her head. “Lyle called and told me about your visit to the house.” She frowned. “I understand you need to talk to everybody after what happened to your father…” Her gaze slid toward a wide, open window that overlooked the water. The soft breeze seemed to be coming through its dented screening. “It’s such a shame.” Amazingly, her pretty eyes filled with tears. “I spoke to Bubba often. He used to ride his bike past the shop and sometimes I’d offer him lemonade.”
My pulse picked up. “He rode past the shop? Do you know where he went from here?”
She shook her head. “Unfortunately, no.” She sniffled and her light green gaze cleared. “Surely it doesn’t matter now, though.”
I had no intention of telling her my father was alive. Besides, after traipsing all over Sinful for two days talking to people about him, I was starting to feel slightly responsible for poor Bubba. “We might learn something about who killed him if we can find where he lived.”
She held my gaze for a moment and then sighed. “And you believe Lyle had something to do with it, don’t you?”
I shrugged. “He couldn’t give us an alibi for the time of the murder. And Bubba’s boat is parked at your dock.”
She shook her head, the bright curls of her long, blonde hair dancing softly around her shoulders. I told him to go to the sheriff with the boat. I didn’t know he’d taken it from Number Two,” she quickly clarified. When I nodded she went on. “He told me he’d found it drifting loose in the bayou. I had no reason to doubt him.”
“Do you know where Lyle was that day, Lena?” Ida Belle’s voice was firm, as if she knew the other woman would resist giving up the information.
Lena glanced from Ida Belle to me, looking slightly panicked. “I…Lyle didn’t want you to know why he was on Number Two, Ida Belle. And it had nothing to do with Bubba.”
Ida Belle’s eyes narrowed. “He’s got a still out there doesn’t he?”
Lena nodded. “I’m sorry. He’s not trying to undercut your business, Ida Belle. I promise. It’s just that we really need the extra money the shine brings in. He sells it outside of Sinful. Mostly.”
I had a feeling what the qualification was all about. I’d seen the array of bottles behind the counter at the back of the store. “He sold some to Bubba, didn’t he?”
Lena nodded. “Yes. He did. And I sold some of it here. But only to tourists, Ida Belle. People who came from other cities so we didn’t cut into your market.” She looked so worried about what Ida Belle would think that I felt sorry for her. It was obvious she didn’t mean any harm.
I touched her arm and she looked my way. Her green gaze sparkled with unshed tears again. “I love my new purse. And your shop is wonderful.”
She smiled and it transformed her small, pale face. “Thanks, Felicity. Just keep an eye on that tooth pull. If it ever falls off give me a call and I’ll s
end you a new one.”
“I’d like to buy a couple more of these purses for my friends back home. Can you show me what you’ve got?”
“I’d love to.”
CHAPTER NINE
By the time we left Lena’s a half hour later, I could barely walk for all the bags I was carrying. Once I got started I’d had trouble stopping. I bought purses for two of my friends, a smaller shoulder bag for myself, and then couldn’t resist getting one of the pretty straw hats for sunbathing. Then Lena showed me her collection of light cotton sun dresses, handmade and hand beaded by local women, and I was lost.
Ida Belle opened the door of the truck for me and I climbed in, my bags catching on every conceivable surface before I managed to wrench myself free and fall into the back seat, head first, butt out.
Lucky me, Gertie was there to give my butt a shove and launch me across the seat. My cheek scraped across the old fabric of the seat and I landed with a grunt on top of the bag with my purses in it. “Thanks a lot, Gertie.”
She climbed into the front seat as Ida Belle turned the key. “Glad to help.”
“It was nice of you to buy all that stuff from Lena,” Ida Belle said.
I shoved myself upright and rubbed my cheek, wondering if it had fabric burn. “I was happy to help her out, but I promise I bought all that stuff because I loved it.”
Paper crackled in Gertie’s vicinity and she shoved a chunk of dark chocolate fudge into her mouth. “I mph thst fpudch.”
Ida Belle reached into the bag. “I can see that. Maybe next time you could say it after you swallow or before you take a bite. You sprayed chocolate all over my dash.”
Winking, Gertie held the bag back to me and I extracted a chunk of the fudge for myself. “This smells delicious.”
“Lena makes it herself. Her fudge recipe wins blue ribbons almost every year at the state fair,” Gertie said.
I took a bite and the chocolate creaminess melted over my tongue. Closing my eyes, I moaned in delight. “So good.”
I spotted the sign for Alligator Bridge and inspiration struck. “Hey. Would you guys mind if we drove back past Lena’s? I’d like to see if we can figure out where Bubba was going on his bike.”
Ida Belle yanked the wheel to the right and, slowing only slightly, swung the truck around, spitting up gravel and dust on the side of the road. The elderly truck teetered on two wheels for a beat, suspension groaning, and then slammed down, tires skidding against the pavement as Ida Belle accelerated to take us back out of town.
I fell sideways on the first jerk of the wheel, hitting the plastic window trim with my uninjured cheek as she whipped us around, and ended up on the floor, legs akimbo.
“You all right back there?”
I gathered myself up and slid back onto the seat, rubbing my cheek. “A little warning would have been nice.”
Ida Belle offered a, “who me?” look in the mirror.
Gertie shook her head. “Ida Belle doesn’t mess around, Felicity. If you ask her to turn around she turns around.” She popped another chunk of fudge into her mouth.
I glared at the back of Gertie’s frizzy, gray head but it did me no good. The two women might as well have been alone in the truck for all the attention they paid me.
We drove past Lena’s and Ida Belle slowed. “You watch the right side, Felicity and Gertie will watch the left.”
The road curved away from the bayou a quarter of a mile from Lena’s and wove into a thick forest of cypress trees. It was so dark under the trees I started to wonder if I’d even be able to see the bike or the house it was parked in front of.
A minute later the road turned back toward the water and the trees thinned out on the water side, brightening our path.
My gaze fixed on the tree line on my side, I concentrated on looking for the familiar shape of a bike as we shot past.
Suddenly, Gertie shrieked, “Watch out!”
Ida Belle slammed her foot on the brake and I flew forward, my legs hitting the back of the bench seat and my torso slamming downward.
Pain spiked up my nose as it connected with the seat. I hung there for a minute, butt in the air and little birdies flying around my head. Two pairs of hands grasped my arms and tugged.
“Sorry, Felicity,” Ida Belle said.
“There was a gator crossing the road,” Gertie explained.
I mumbled something unintelligible into the musty smelling seat.
“What was that? Come on, girl, get your face out of the seat.”
I tried to shake my head but it barely moved. I stopped when I realized I was giving myself fabric burn on my most likely broken nose. I was going to look like an alcoholic with Rosacea by the time I got back to Sinful.
Voices danced around my head with the little birdies for a minute and then something that felt like iron clamps grabbed my shoulders and I was flung backward, smacking my head against the back window.
“Ugh!” I groaned, sitting back and closing my eyes so the world would stop spinning. “Just shoot me between the eyes. It would be faster.”
Ida Belle opened the door of the truck. “Toughen up, girl. I see a bicycle.”
My eyes shot open. “A bike? Where?”
CHAPTER TEN
The bike rested against the knobby trunk of a cypress tree. It was yellow, with tires like cross country bikers used, wide with heavy tread. The bike was in decent shape and had a wide, wire basket strapped to the handlebars.
I ran my fingers over the narrow seat, trying to remember if I’d ever seen my father riding a bike.
A car approached slowly on the winding road, veering around the haphazardly parked truck. I glanced toward the dark sedan, the craggy profile of its driver igniting a spark of memory that I couldn’t quite grasp.
“It doesn’t look like anybody’s home,” Gertie whispered.
Ida Belle pushed past her and pounded on the weathered door. “There’s only one way to find out.”
A long moment passed and Ida Belle pounded again, harder the second time. I caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye. When I turned my head I saw the curtain in one of the front windows of the house drop back into place. “Someone’s in there.”
Gertie eyed the window. “You’d probably fit through there, Felicity. Ida Belle and I could heft you up…”
I shook my head. “I’m still concussed from the drive over. I’m not letting you two throw me through a window.”
Ida Belle murmured something that sounded a lot like “wimp” and Gertie giggled.
“What did you call me?”
“I called you a wimp. Deal with it.”
I was saved from my impulse to batter an old lady when the door opened and a man stepped out.
I sucked in a gasp.
“Hi, honey.”
I was rooted to the spot, shocked beyond words. I’d come to the cabin hoping to find my father, but after all the months of wondering and worrying… I swallowed hard, tears filling my eyes. “Daddy.”
He opened his arms and I ran into them, burying my face in his flannel shirt as he squeezed me tight. “I missed you, honey.”
I sniffled, scrubbing my eyes. “I thought you were dead.”
“I know. I’m really sorry about that...” He stiffened at the sound of a car coming up the road. “Let’s get inside. It’s not safe out here.”
My father ushered me and then the ladies inside the dark cabin. It smelled musty and was sweltering despite the heavy tree cover.
I quickly realized both the heat and the smell were due to the fact that he had all the windows closed and covered.
Ida Belle turned to him, hands on hips. “What the hell have you been up to, Bubba? You scared your poor girl half to death.”
“And you got that homeless guy killed,” Gertie added.
Felonius Chance eyed the two women, a perplexed look on his handsome face, then turned to me. “Felicity, would you like to introduce me to your friends?”
“I think we’re way beyond p
leasantries,” Ida Belle said.
I nodded. “I have to agree with Ida Belle. What have you gotten mixed up in? Why are you here? And who killed poor Bubba?”
He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Felicity.”
I expelled air. “These are my friends, Ida Belle and Gertie. Ladies, this is my father, Felonius Chance.”
“Nice to meet you ladies.” He offered them his hand but Ida Belle just glared. Gertie gave in and shook it.
“Shall we sit?”
“No, dad. We shall not sit. I need some answers!”
“You’re right. I owe you that. First of all, let me just say that I disappeared because I was trying to keep you safe. I figured if I wasn’t in Indy they’d leave you and Breze alone.”
Ida Belle looked at me.
“Breze’s my evil stepmother, a.k.a. trophy wife number three.”
“Ah.” Ida Belle nodded in understanding.
He frowned. “I’d hoped with me gone you two would have found a way to get along.”
“Nope. So go on. Why did you leave Indy?”
My father walked across the house, heading for a short line of cabinets that probably represented the kitchen. Though there wasn’t much to it. I followed, not wanting to let him out of my sight.
He took a kettle off the stove and filled it with water. “I can’t tell you why I left.” He glanced my way as I bristled. “Believe me, it’s better if you don’t know, Felly.”
“You have gators!”
Gertie stood a few feet away, bent over a long, glass aquarium on the floor. I walked over and looked down and, sure enough, two baby alligators snapped and slithered inside the glass. They were about three feet long snout to tip of tail, like mini shoe-encased death.
“Ish!”
He turned the flame up under the kettle and joined us at the aquarium. “I found them in the yard when they were just a few inches long. I couldn’t resist taking them in. Their mother had been hit on the road.”
I shared a look with Ida Belle. “Yeah, I think we almost ran over one of their relatives a minute ago.”
Father nodded. The kettle started to whistle and he moved back into the kitchen, gathering cups and spoons, creamer and sugar. I frowned when he reached for a bag of cookies.