All Hats on Deck

by Sandra Bretting

  Chapter 17

  I turned away from the counter, my mind awhirl. Now that I knew what I was up against, it was time for me to do something about it.

  The repairman had left the door to Antonella’s shop cracked open, so I slipped through the exit and closed the door behind me before I made my way to the parking lot. Once I hopped into Ringo, my gaze automatically shifted to the passenger seat, where the cardboard tray with Ambrose’s breakfast languished.

  Oh, sugar. I’d forgotten all about it. If I didn’t get home soon, the surprise would be ruined. Who wanted to eat a cold beignet, or drink an even-colder cup of coffee?

  So, I drove back onto Highway 18 and pointed the car toward home. The road in front of me looked much different now. Where before I had the whole thing to myself, now I shared it with a pack of bicyclists who rode single file next to me. One of them wore a purple and gold LSU jersey that made him look like a plump harlequin, and he wobbled a bit as my car whooshed past him.

  I arrived home in no time, and Ambrose met me at the front door. The minute he saw the carryall in my hand, his eyes lit up.

  “Yeehaw.” Gently, he took the breakfast tray from me. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Let’s just say it’s payback for all the times you’ve spoiled me.”

  Like before, nothing stirred in the quiet as we made our way to the kitchen, and even the kiskadee outside my bedroom window had fallen silent. Which reminded me of something else.

  “Hey, guess what?” I plopped onto the bench in our kitchen. “I bought a birdhouse yesterday for our backyard.”

  “Please tell me it’s not pink.” He placed the coffees on the farmhouse table, one by one, and then he jimmied the sack from its carrying case. “Just because I agreed to rent a pink house with you does not mean I like the color.”

  “Oops. My bad.” I reached into the sack and pulled out a beignet, which still felt warm, praise the Lord. “At least it’ll match the house, right?”

  “Guess I’ll make an exception. On account of the beignets and all.” He withdrew one from the bag too, and took a hearty bite.

  “Aha! I knew you’d be hungry after your long day yesterday.”

  He swallowed. “You were right. By the way…did you happen to see old what’s-his-face while you were at the donut store?”

  “Really? ‘What’s-his-face’? He has a name, you know.” I took a bite of beignet too, before I set it aside. “I spoke with Grady, if that’s what you mean. Nothing important, but he did mention Antonella’s new store downtown.”

  “Did he tell you about the party?”

  “Ambrose! You knew about the grand opening and you didn’t tell me?” I swatted his arm playfully. “I thought we shared everything.”

  “Calm down. I only found out about it last night. Our favorite blogger came into my studio around dinnertime to drop off some flyers.”

  “You’re kidding! She has a lot of nerve. Did you tell her off?”

  “No, not really.” Unfortunately, he took another bite, which meant I had to wait until he finished his mouthful to find out more. “I couldn’t confront her right then because she was with the mayor. Did you know he rents out an office at the Factory too?”

  “I do now. He told me about it yesterday. He said he used it as his campaign headquarters. But what was he doing with Antonella?” I tried to imagine the two of them standing in the middle of Ambrose’s studio at twilight, thick as thieves, apparently.

  “He was helping her distribute flyers for the grand opening. Look, it doesn’t matter. She could hire the Times Square ball to drop out of the sky, but that doesn’t mean people will go to her shop instead of yours. You have a great reputation, and no one knows her yet.”

  “Don’t be too sure about that.” My appetite had slowly waned, so I ignored the roll in front of me. “Remember that girl I told you about…Sabine d’Aulnay? The one who wanted me to make a veil for her diamond tiara? Well, apparently she has other ideas now.”

  “Other ideas?”

  “It’s true. I was in Antonella’s hat shop this morning—”

  “Whoa.” His eyes widened. “Hold the phone. You were where?”

  Uh-oh. I knew that tone. I was about to get a lecture on respecting other people’s property. While part of me bristled, the other part knew he was right. “I know, I know. I had no right to be there. It just so happened an air-conditioner repairman showed up, and he let me in.”

  “Missy—”

  “I only wanted to check out my hunch about the building permits. I promise, Ambrose. But there’s no way a building inspector has been in there. He—or she—would never sign off on that mess. You should’ve seen the wires running up the walls.”

  Instead of lecturing me, Ambrose fell silent, which was twice as bad.

  “I swear I didn’t want to hurt anything,” I quickly added. “I only wanted to look around. And that’s where I found the Tiffany ad. It’s the same ad Sabine showed me a few days ago, only now it’s at Antonella’s store.”

  “I get it.” He didn’t lecture me, but it was a close call. “But how is that Antonella’s fault? It sounds like Sabine went looking for her, and not the other way around.”

  “That’s what I thought at first. Until I saw a note Antonella wrote on the ad. She’s giving Sabine a fifty-percent discount if she’ll leave my studio and go to hers.”

  Finally, Ambrose’s face untensed. “Well, that sucks.”

  “Tell me about it. And then there’s—”

  Just then, a ringtone shattered the quiet, and I automatically flinched.

  “Cheese and crackers!” I scrambled to pull the phone from my pocket. “Remind me to turn that ringtone down. It scared the bejeebies out of me.”

  I quickly checked the caller ID, which showed a number for the Louisiana State Police Department. Only one person ever called me from that number: my best friend, Lance.

  “Hi, Missy.” He sounded wide awake, even at this early hour. “I’m glad you took my call.”

  “I always take your calls.” I cupped my hand over the receiver and whispered Lance’s name to Ambrose, before I returned to the line. “What’s going on?”

  “Hey…is that Ambrose in the background? Tell him I said hello.”

  “Lance says hello,” I whispered, before I got back to the call. “Now, Lance. Are you going to tell me why you called, or do I have to guess?”

  “Believe it or not, I’ve been at the police station all morning. We got a tip from someone who lives out on the bayou. She heard a noise the morning Ruby was murdered.”

  “You’re kidding. What’d she say?”

  “It was the lady who lives next door. She didn’t want to call us at first—thought it was no big deal—but her husband convinced her she should. It happens all the time. People hear or see something strange, but they don’t think anything of it. Then they can’t get the memory out of their head, and it eats away at them until they finally give us a ring.”

  I swiveled around on the bench. I hadn’t thought about Ruby since yesterday afternoon, when Hollis came by my studio. “Are you going over the police report?”

  I could picture him sitting at his desk with an enormous pile of file folders in front of him, some as tall as his shoulder.

  “I am. I’m trying to connect the dots. Apparently, this neighbor heard Ruby’s dog barking the morning she was murdered.”

  “You mean Jacques? You know that dog’s a menace, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s what she said.” He didn’t sound like he quite believed me. “I didn’t run into the dog last night, so I wouldn’t know.”

  “That’s right… I forgot you spent the night at Hollis’s place. But I don’t see how a barking dog is any big deal. From what I’ve seen, Jacques barks all the time.”

  “That wasn’t all she heard. She heard a man’s voice to
o. Someone yelled at the dog to shut up. It happened just after sunrise.”

  “Interesting.” I touched Ambrose’s arm to get his attention. When he glanced over, I nodded at the living room, where I intended to head next. “So, your caller heard the ruckus first thing in the morning. And, come to think of it, the dog doesn’t usually bark until someone steps onto his dock.” I slowly rose, and then I walked away from the kitchen.

  “What time did you get to Ruby’s house that day?” he asked.

  “Hmm…let me think.” Although I’d visited Ruby’s mobile home only two days ago, it seemed like a lifetime had passed. “We probably got there around ten.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Um, hm.” I remembered chastising Hollis about waking up so late. Especially since Beatrice and I had been working for two whole hours by then. “Hollis was still sleeping when we got there. I gave him a hard time about it.”

  Once I entered the living room, I made a beeline for the overstuffed couch and sat.

  “I’m going to ask Hollis if he heard the noise that morning, but my guess is that he’s a heavy sleeper.”

  “He is. And he didn’t say anything about it to me yesterday.” I heard a soft scratching noise over the receiver. “Are you writing down notes?”

  “Of course. It’s all part of the police report. So, where was the dog when you got there Thursday?”

  “He was on the shoreline. Beatrice tossed him a bone so he wouldn’t attack us. Thank goodness it worked.”

  “Did anything seem out of place to you?”

  “No, not really.” I could picture the two of us on the dock, but nothing seemed strange. A soft breeze blew through the tupelos; that much I remembered. And the dog went crazy for the rawhide bone. Nothing unusual there. “The dog growled at me at first, like he always does. But once Beatrice tossed him the bone, he forgot all about me.”

  I shifted onto another couch cushion. Halfway there, my hip landed against something soft and squishy, so I reached for it. It was the Nerf football Ambrose and Hollis had tossed back and forth the other night.

  The ball obviously didn’t belong to Ambrose, since jagged teeth marks sliced through the foam. It had to belong to Hollis, or, more likely, Jacques.

  “You said you’re going to call Hollis?”

  “Yeah, when it gets a little later. I put the stingray device on his phone, but he didn’t get any strange calls last night. And I requested a backup unit to patrol the woods, just in case.”

  “You’re going to leave him by himself today?” I knew the answer, but I didn’t like it.

  “I have to. I’ve got to follow up on this lead. Don’t worry…he’ll be fine. My backup won’t let anything bad happen to him.”

  “That’s not it.” I carefully palmed the football. “I just hate the thought of Hollis being out there by himself. It’s got to get lonely.”

  “He’s a big boy, Missy. He’ll be okay.”

  “I know. But still…” The foam squished beneath my fingertips, which gave me an idea. “Maybe I’ll go see him this morning. He forgot something at my house, and I could return it. That way, he won’t think I’m checking up on him.”

  “It sounds like something you’d do.” He chuckled knowingly. “But watch your step when you’re out there. I’ll tell my backup you’re coming, so she can keep an eye out for you.”

  “Thanks. And good luck with your tip. I hope it pans out.”

  Once I clicked off the line, I slid the cell back in my pocket. Then I tucked the football behind my back and made my way to the kitchen. Ambrose had finished his breakfast by now, and tufts of powdered sugar dusted the table in front of him.

  “How’s Lance?” he asked, as soon as I plopped onto the bench next to him.

  “He’s okay. He’s back at the police station, working on a tip from a neighbor.”

  “Anything important?”

  “Hard to say.” I worried my lower lip as I thought things through. “Too bad he had to leave Hollis all alone today. I’m not good with it, to tell you the truth.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine. If I know Lance, he asked for some backup out there.”

  “He did. But that’s not the point. I think Hollis should be with people he knows today. His grandma only died two days ago.”

  “That’s true. But he might think you’re trying to babysit him if you go out there. I remember what it was like to be eighteen. You think you’re invincible.”

  “I’m one step ahead of you.” I slowly withdrew the football from behind my back and plunked it on the table. “I’ll tell him I went over to return this.”

  “A football?” He didn’t seem as impressed with my plan as I’d hoped.

  “Why not? I’ll tell him I thought he might want to toss the ball around with Jacques today. Look at those teeth marks.”

  “It’s a stretch, but he might buy it.” He dusted his hands over the tabletop, and even more sugar rained down. “Anyway, there’s no chance I’m letting you go out there alone. Give me a few minutes to shower and change.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I know you’re swamped with catalog work. And Lance said the backup unit will be watching the house. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

  Ambrose playfully snatched the football from me. “You can talk until you’re blue in the face, but it won’t change anything. I’m going with you…like it or not.”

  “If that’s the case…I guess I like it.”

  “Good.” He smiled as he rose from the table. “No telling what we’ll find out there today, but at least you’ll learn how to throw a decent lateral.”

  Chapter 18

  We arrived on the bayou fifteen minutes later, once Ambrose had had a chance to shower and change.

  He slowed the Audi to a crawl as we passed an especially thick clump of kudzu on the path to Ruby’s house.

  “There’s the backup unit.” He pointed to a white police cruiser partially hidden by the dense foliage.

  “Lance must’ve told her about us. Otherwise, she’d make us stop.”

  Sure enough, the cruiser didn’t budge, and we arrived at the mobile home a few seconds later. Ambrose pulled the Audi behind the listing dock and switched off the ignition.

  “Did you remember another rawhide?” He grabbed the football and stepped out of the car.

  “You bet. A couple of ’em.” I patted the bulge in my pocket before I threw open the door and stepped outside.

  The moment my feet hit hardpacked mud, nature sounds surrounded me. The constant buzz of cicadas in the bushes provided one long whole note, while nearby bullfrogs added bass half-notes of their own. Hhhooonnnkkk.

  Along with the wildlife, a soft whoosh of rustling leaves sounded overhead as the breeze flowed through the tupelos. Although I didn’t spy Jacques yet, I suspected the dog was hiding behind one of the pilings on the dock. “Here we go again.” I slowly withdrew the dog treat from my pocket. “Let’s hope it works as good as last time.”

  I thrust the rawhide in front of me and cautiously stepped onto the dock. I felt like a penitent, coming to lay an offering at the foot of the Virgin Mary in her baby-blue rock grotto.

  Two steps in, something moved in front of me.

  “Bonjour, Jacques,” I said, just as Beatrice had done. “I brought déjeuner!”

  I cautiously moved forward with the dog’s breakfast, the planks groaning beneath my feet. The noise flushed out the dog, who’d been squatting behind the very last piling. Dull leaves and green slime matted the animal’s fur.

  “Who’s a good boy?” I said, in a singsong voice.

  “That’s the monster you’ve been telling me about?” Ambrose spoke behind me, and he sounded amused. “He doesn’t look so bad. He needs a bath, but he doesn’t look like a man-eater.”

  “Just you wait. Heaven help us if we run out of rawhides.” I caut
iously took a few more steps, the planks groaning again. “Thatta boy. Here you go.”

  Still skittish from my last run-in, I tossed the bone a few yards from the dog’s snout. After sniffing it a few times, he trotted forward and snatched it in his teeth. Then he languidly returned to his hiding spot on the edge of the dock.

  “Whew!” I said. “Thank goodness he can be bribed with food.”

  “I still think you’re exaggerating,” Ambrose didn’t sound impressed. “He probably just wanted to play with you the other day.”

  “Yeah, that’s right. He’s sweet like that.” Hopefully, a bit of the sarcasm would come through. “He’s just an overgrown puppy.”

  With one problem fixed, now I needed to find Hollis. My gaze traveled to the mobile home, where a faded calico curtain had been pulled tight across the front window. Not only that, but the porch light still cast an eerie blue glow on the rickety steps, which told me no one had been outside today.

  “I’ll bet you anything Hollis is still asleep,” I said. “Wonder if he even knows the morning’s half over?”

  “Probably not. He probably doesn’t care either.”

  Before I could speak again, a low growl sounded in the distance, and this time it had nothing to do with the dog on the dock. It sounded like the blades of an enormous fan churning through the air. Either that, or a giant mosquito buzzed over the waterline.

  “What the—?” Ambrose asked.

  The noise grew louder by the second. When the dog finally noticed it, he dropped the half-eaten treat to the ground to gaze at the water.

  Wwwhhhiiirrr. By now, the sound filled the air. The mechanical noise ebbed and flowed, just like the small waves that lapped along the shoreline.

  The next thing I heard was a bullhorn, of all things. It broadcast a man’s voice over the high-pitched whir, loud and clear. “Take a look to your right, folks, and you’ll see one of the original houses out here on the bayou. That home has been here since the nineteen forties. Come back in a few months and it’ll look a whole lot different.”