Bullets and Beads

by Jana DeLeon

  “Well, untie me and help me get these things off and into the sink,” Gertie said.

  “I don’t think they’re going to fit in the sink,” Ida Belle said as she untied the tablecloth. “A bathtub maybe.”

  “Start with the sink,” I said as I unwrapped a pack from Gertie’s arm. “We can carry over onto the back porch if needed.”

  Ten minutes later, we’d tossed the last of the packs outside and Ida Belle had Gertie standing in front of a floor fan.

  “On the plus side, I don’t have to mop the kitchen floor,” I said.

  Gertie pulled a dishrag over her hair. “Is this absolutely necessary? I figured I’d be too sore to roll my hair this morning, so I did it last night. It might be days before I can manage rollers again.”

  I shook my head at the bruises on her arms and wondered what the rest of her looked like. “I still don’t understand why you don’t just buy a bag of beads. I’m doing that next year.”

  “I’ve tried it already so don’t bother,” Ida Belle said. “It’s the thrill of the chase.”

  “It looks more like she played a rugby game than thrilled in a chase,” I said. “But if this is your idea of fun, who am I to stand in the way?”

  “Am I dry enough to go upstairs yet?” Gertie asked.

  “I suppose since you’ve stopped dripping you’ll do,” Ida Belle said. “But you’re not getting in my SUV until your clothes are dry.”

  Gertie waved a hand at her. “I’ll just take them off.”

  I grimaced. “That’s a discussion that can wait. Maybe forever. Follow me.”

  We headed upstairs to my bedroom and I motioned them into the closet.

  “Oh, you did a built-in shoe rack,” Gertie said as she studied the shelving on the back wall of the closet. She ran her finger over a couple pairs of tennis shoes and shook her head. “We really need a shopping trip. All you have here are tennis shoes and sandals.”

  “You brought us up here to show us a shoe rack?” Ida Belle stared at me as if I’d lost my mind.

  “Of course not, although I’m not tripping every morning, so there’s that. But remember the secret weapon storage Marge put in a bedroom closet? Well, I did something similar.” I pulled the shoe rack and it swung away from the wall, revealing a cubby with a ladder into the attic behind it.

  “There was dead space behind this wall so Carter and I worked on this,” I said. “If someone breaches, then I can climb through here and exit the side window in the attic into the oak tree. A quick jaunt across Ronald’s roof and down another tree and I’m one house away from trouble.”

  “Ha!” Ida Belle said. “You’re one house away from doubling back for retaliation. And that’s if you use this ladder at all.”

  “She said she would,” Gertie said.

  Ida Belle shook her head. “She said she ‘can.’ That doesn’t mean she will.”

  “If a situation arises that might precipitate the usage of the escape route, then I’ll do an assessment and make a call,” I said.

  “I bet that’s not what you told Carter,” Ida Belle said.

  “It’s like I said before,” Gertie said. “The trust is overwhelming.”

  “She’s not entirely wrong,” I said. “But if this ladder ever becomes a necessary option, then I figure Carter will have more to worry about than me doing what I normally do.”

  “Which means whatever you want,” Gertie said. “Good girl.”

  Ida Belle frowned and I studied her for a moment. Usually, if there was an instant for a woman to take care of herself and avoid the white knight, she was waving her flag higher than anyone. But this time, I sensed a change.

  “You all right?” I asked her.

  She looked directly at me and I could see the worry behind her usual stoic expression. “This is different from Ahmad,” she said. “With that situation, you had time to prepare a sting operation. You had a facility ready to go with backup in place.”

  “And none of it went according to plan,” I reminded her. “Look, despite my levity, rest assured that I’m taking this very seriously. I know all the risks and potential pitfalls. I’m going to pay Ally a visit this morning and explain to her why girls’ nights are on permanent hold until this is resolved. I know you, Gertie, and Carter have different feelings about proximity but you’re also trained. Ally isn’t. I won’t risk her. And I won’t risk myself. I’ve worked too hard to get a life to throw it away by trying to be Superwoman.”

  “Except you sort of are Superwoman,” Gertie said. “But we’re glad to know that you have contingency plans.”

  Ida Belle nodded, her shoulders relaxing some. “And I think it’s a good call keeping Ally at some distance. She’s going to fight you on that one, you know. She’s loyal to a fault and she cares about you.”

  “I’m not going to hedge things with her,” I said. “By the time I’m done, she won’t even wave at me if she sees me crossing the street downtown.”

  “I’m sorry you’re in this position,” Gertie said and sighed. “I really wanted your permanent move to Sinful to be like a baptism—ridding yourself of the old life and starting a new one.”

  “I know,” I said. “And it is. There’s just this one last hurdle.”

  But even as I said the words, I wondered if they were true. What if my father disappeared again? He’d been a ghost for fourteen years. I had no doubt he could manage it again. And his enemies would never believe that I didn’t know his whereabouts. For that matter, my former employer probably wouldn’t believe it either, even though it was fully aware of the fact that he’d abandoned me to do whatever it was he was doing.

  Unless someone got their hands on Dwight Redding, I’d spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.

  Chapter Eight

  Gertie grunted and clutched the casserole dish in her lap. “Can you take it easy on the potholes?” she complained. “You’re giving my bruises bruises.”

  “I told you to sit on a pillow,” Ida Belle said.

  “I wouldn’t need a pillow if you drove like a normal person,” Gertie said. “But you insist on doing warp speed and hitting every hole in the street like it’s some vehicle version of Whac-a-Mole.”

  “I’m driving in a straight line in my own lane,” Ida Belle said. “If I’m hitting too many potholes for your taste, take it up with the mayor’s office.”

  “Like that makes a difference,” Gertie said.

  “Why wouldn’t it?” I asked. “The mayor is one of your best friends.”

  “Yes. But unless she’s developed the ability to create money from air, there’s no budget for repaving the streets,” Gertie said. “Which is why we have these potholes. That filling stuff doesn’t work worth a crap. One day, someone’s going to lose a toddler in one of those holes. Or a moped.”

  “Well, depending on the quality of the moped, we might get a fundraiser then,” Ida Belle said.

  “What about the toddler?” I asked.

  “No one minds losing a toddler,” Gertie said.

  I laughed. “I would have loved to see you teach. Did you have a moat between the chalkboard and your students?”

  “I taught high school,” Gertie said. “I just wore a big silver cross.”

  I grinned as Ida Belle pulled to the curb and nodded toward a white clapboard house with peeling paint and a slightly sloped porch roof. Phyllis hadn’t been lying about the grass thing. A few trees and a couple of patches of grass remained, but the bulk of the tiny front lawn had been paved with a circular drive. It was lumpy and even I could tell the grade on it was completely wrong.

  “Let me guess,” I said. “Larry poured his own driveway.”

  “Unfortunately, there wasn’t a rule against it,” Gertie said.

  I stared. “Seriously? There’s something in Sinful that doesn’t have a rule?”

  “Oh, there’s a rule now,” Gertie said. “But his driveway was grandfathered in, so despite it looking like the kindergarten class constructed it, nothing can be done.
His neighbors are fit to be tied.”

  “Another good downpour and they’ll all get their wish granted,” Ida Belle said. “Because that drive is going to slide right off the lawn and into the street.”

  “Maybe it will fill the potholes,” I said.

  Gertie laughed and glanced over at the house. “How do you want to play this?”

  “You do your usual food-death-Southern requirement thing and get us in the door. Information-wise, I’d like to know about his wife and her friend—where are they from, how did he and Natalia meet. Basically, anything we can learn about Natalia and Katia would help us form a picture of why this might have happened. And if possible, I’d love to know what Larry meant about them having dealt with worse.”

  “You’re thinking it might have something to do with Katia?” Gertie said.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I just know her death irritated him as much as it worried him and that’s not exactly a normal reaction. I’d like to know why he was angry but I doubt he’ll just come right out and tell us.”

  But I’d been wrong before. And I was wrong again.

  We were on our way up the steps when the front door opened and Carter stepped outside.

  Crap!

  I scanned the street, but his truck was nowhere in sight. He took one look at us and frowned, then began a hasty approach.

  “I suggest you get back in your vehicle and leave,” he said.

  “I suggest you remember the manners you were raised with or I’ll call your mother,” Ida Belle said.

  Gertie held up a casserole. “Since it’s after noon, I’m going to guess this won’t be the only tray sitting on their kitchen counter. So unless you can come up with a good reason why we shouldn’t do what we do every time someone dies in this town, we’ll be completely ignoring your advice.”

  Carter gave me a pained look but I ignored him completely and walked by. What did he expect? The caveman routine was outdated as it was, but it would have never worked on the three of us. I glanced back when we walked up on the porch and saw him stomping off down the street.

  “Somebody’s pitching a five-year-old fit,” Gertie said. “Looks like you’re going to be sleeping alone for a while.”

  “Good,” I said. “I’ve been short on parents for a long time. I’m not in the market for someone to tell me what to do.”

  “I’m pretty sure you never have been,” Gertie said.

  “And Carter knows that better than anyone,” I said. “He can get over it, or not. But I’m not having this discussion with him every time there’s a crime in Sinful.”

  Ida Belle turned back to look at him and frowned. “He does seem a bit more sensitive than usual. Makes me wonder why.”

  “Probably because this is a mare’s nest and he’s mad that it landed on Sinful’s doorstep,” Gertie said.

  “Maybe,” Ida Belle said, but she didn’t look convinced, which had me wondering about it too. Carter had been a little quick on the draw this time.

  “Or maybe he’s upset that something is taking his attention away from the situation with Fortune,” Gertie suggested. “He does have a lot on his mind.”

  “So you’re saying we should give him a break?” I asked.

  “A break, yes. What he wants, no,” Gertie said.

  “I suppose I could manage that,” I said. “Well, since we’re already in trouble, ring the doorbell and let’s see if we can get into deeper hot water.”

  As Gertie lifted her hand to press the button, I heard raised voices inside and stopped her. I pressed my ear against the glass section of the door but I couldn’t make out the words. Just the tone, which wasn’t pleasant.

  “Should we come back later?” Gertie asked.

  “Heck no,” Ida Belle said. “People say more when they’re slightly out of control.”

  “I have to agree with her,” I said. “If they’re off-balance, they might let things slip that they normally wouldn’t.”

  Gertie pressed the bell and we waited. It took a bit, but finally the door swung back and Larry looked out at us, his face still flushed. He blinked once and it was clear he was trying to get focus back to what was in front of him. Then he gave us a nod and stood back and waved us in, apparently resigned to Southern mourning requirements.

  We followed him to the back of the house to the kitchen. Unlike most of the homes I’d seen in Sinful, this one had not been updated. The cabinets were thin, cheap wood and most of them drooped. The laminate countertops were a strange shade of green and had cracks and pieces missing. The stove was something right out of the Old Testament and I wondered if it even worked. Even the curtains looked as though if they had one more washing, they’d turn into dust. Boy, no one had been exaggerating that cheap thing.

  On the plus side, the place was neat and clean, and cheap people didn’t collect a bunch of useless stuff, so it wasn’t cluttered with coffee mugs or thimbles or whatever else people got up to collecting. Well, except for the collection of covered dishes on the counter. Gertie had called that one correctly. We weren’t the first to turn up bearing food and wouldn’t be the last. Hence Larry’s look of resignation. It was probably a double-edged sword. He didn’t strike me as much of a people person, but then there was free food involved.

  Free had won out.

  “Please have a seat, ladies,” he said. “Can I offer you something to drink? Natalia just went to check on Lina. She’ll be right back. She made a pot of coffee when Deputy LeBlanc was here. We also have sweet tea if you prefer that.”

  We all voted for sweet tea and took a seat as Larry started filling glasses.

  “How is Lina doing?” Gertie asked.

  “Okay, I hope,” Larry said. “To be honest, I’m not sure. She’s always been a quiet child. We keep trying to get her to talk but she’s trying to act like everything is fine. She woke up screaming twice last night but we couldn’t get her to tell us why either time.”

  “Nightmares, I would assume,” Gertie said.

  Larry nodded and set the glasses of tea on the table before taking a seat. “That’s what I figure. I just wish she’d tell us. We let her sleep in our bed, thinking that would help her feel more secure, and she did go right to sleep. But I guess when her subconscious came out to play, it wasn’t kind.”

  “Was she close to Katia?” I asked.

  “Not at all,” Larry said. “Katia had never met Lina until now. Katia was closer to Natalia’s sister than Natalia. I suppose that’s a blessing the way things turned out. If Lina had been attached…”

  “Katia and Natalia are Russian, right?” I asked.

  He stared at me for a moment and then nodded. “I guess the accent still gives her away although Natalia has worked hard to get rid of hers. Katia never bothered.”

  “Her clients were mostly Russian,” Natalia said as she stepped into the kitchen. “She had better sales than any other associate because of her accent. No reason to lose it.”

  “Certainly,” Larry agreed. “I’m sure it served her well.”

  “We’re really sorry for your loss,” Ida Belle said to Natalia. “Is Lina okay?”

  Natalia nodded and took a seat next to Larry. “She’s restless but sleeping. Finally. Last night was rough. I wish I knew what to do.”

  “I’m sure you’re doing everything you can,” Gertie said. “Just be there so she feels secure. There’s really nothing else to be done right now.”

  Natalia nodded but I got the impression that she’d only half heard what Gertie said. Her skin was pale and had that haggard look that came with intense stress. There were dark circles under her eyes and I noticed her hands shook as she lifted her coffee mug. She’d probably benefit from less caffeine but I wasn’t about to say so. People had been shot for less.

  “I assume Katia lived in the US,” Ida Belle said. “Did she have family here? Is there anyone we can help you contact?”

  Natalia shook her head. “She had no family. When she left Russia, they disowned her just as my family disowne
d me.”

  “What about your sister?” I asked. “Larry said Katia was friends with her. Did she stay behind as well?”

  A flash of pain crossed Natalia’s face and she jumped up from her chair. “I’m sorry but I’m not feeling well. Please excuse me.”

  She practically ran out of the room and I looked over at Larry, feeling responsible.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realize her sister was a bad subject.”

  Larry glanced down the hall and his jaw flexed. “How could you?”

  “I don’t understand how people can do that,” Gertie said. “Just write off family like that over a lifestyle choice.”

  “Natalia’s sister didn’t write her off,” Larry said, and I could tell he was starting to get worked up again. “She was killed in New Orleans three years ago. Natalia was almost killed as well.”

  “Oh, wow,” I said. “That’s horrible. I wouldn’t have said anything—”

  Larry waved a hand. “You couldn’t have known. It was a mugging gone wrong and Natalia was still dealing with the aftereffects when we moved to Sinful. We never talk about it.”

  I glanced at Ida Belle. We’d found out what Larry had meant about dealing with worse. But that bit of information had only yielded more questions. I wondered how many we could get answered before his mood went from surly to outright pissed.

  Gertie, however, dived right in. She shook her head and gave Larry a sympathetic look. “The crime down there has gotten so bad. I used to love for Ida Belle and me to take a shopping trip to the French Quarter, but we really limit them these days. It’s just not a safe place for two senior ladies to be walking around.”

  I held in a smile. If Ida Belle and Gertie went walking around the French Quarter, my money was on them scaring the muggers.

  Larry nodded but his expression went almost blank, which was interesting. Clearly, he had strong feelings about what had happened to his wife and her sister, but he wasn’t about to give details.

  “If Katia had no family to tend to her, would you like us to help you with arrangements?” Ida Belle asked. “You’ve already been through enough. If we can take something off your plate…”