Bullets and Beads

by Jana DeLeon

Made a crazy lady sign a fake contract. Illegally listened in on Larry and Natalia. Almost got shot. Scared at least five lives out of Mr. Pickles.

  “Nothing much,” I said.

  “That sounds lovely.”

  I nodded. It would have been.

  Carter and I turned off all the lights downstairs and prepared to head up to bed when I heard a noise outside. I signaled to the backyard and pulled out my gun. Carter grabbed my laptop and thrust it at me so I could access the cameras. I accessed up the two covering the backyard but didn’t see any movement. Then over in the corner of the backyard, near the bayou, I saw a figure standing in the shadows. It was cloudy, so the moonlight barely trickled through, but there was no doubt in my mind that it was a person standing there.

  I pointed to the hedge with the shadow and motioned to the front door. We separated in the front yard, each heading around the house in a different direction. We didn’t know if the man was alone or working with someone and couldn’t afford for either of us to be flanked. I was on the side where I’d identified the threat. Carter had taken the unknown. I skirted silently down the hedges toward the bayou, thankful that moonlight was at a premium and that I’d been required to do this so many times that I knew the way by heart.

  I stopped about twenty feet from the place where I’d seen the shadow and waited for any sign of movement. Finally, I heard the rustling of footsteps on leaves just ahead of me. Then another set off to my right, coming from Ronald’s yard. Even farther out to my left near the bayou, I heard movement as well but couldn’t see anyone.

  I inched closer to the movement ahead of me, figuring that was the shadow I’d seen. Whoever was on my right in Ronald’s yard was still on the move but not very quiet. I could easily discern every step and gauged the distance from me at about twenty feet. As I eased toward the end of the hedge, the steps to the right picked up speed and a man burst through the bushes right in front of me, crashing into the shadow person.

  I froze. That couldn’t have been Carter. He was on the other side of the house and darn well knew how to be quiet when he walked. So was it another terrorist? Was there infighting among the foot soldiers? Suddenly, the moon peered out from behind the clouds and I got a good look at what was happening on my lawn.

  Two men were locked in a battle on the ground. The one who’d gotten knocked down had the guy on top of him by the throat. I didn’t recognize the guy doing the throttling but the guy on top was wearing camouflage gear and a motorcycle helmet. The pink ballet slippers gave him away.

  Ronald.

  What my insane neighbor was doing tackling strangers in my yard I had no idea, but what I did know is that he’d picked the absolute wrong time to be nosy. The guy strangling him wouldn’t loosen his grip until Ronald had taken in his last breath. I stepped out of the hedge and leveled my pistol at the enemy.

  “Let him go or I blow your head off,” I said. “And you know I can.”

  He rolled over, taking Ronald with him, then rose up, dragging Ronald in front of him as a human shield. Ronald was limp and I worried that it was too late, but then he coughed. The enemy immediately shoved a gun to Ronald’s head and started walking backward, dragging Ronald with him.

  The helmet made it impossible to get a clear shot of the enemy’s head, and his gaunt body was blocked by Ronald’s larger frame and overabundance of gear attached to his camo. I followed him, gun leveled at Ronald’s head, waiting for an opening. Because I had no doubt that when he got near the bank, where he must have a boat stashed, he’d ditch Ronald and take a shot at me.

  It would be the last shot he ever tried to take.

  We were a couple feet from the bank when trouble arrived in the form of a partner in a boat with a rifle trained on me.

  “What are you waiting for?” the guy who had Ronald yelled. “Shoot her!”

  Before he could even finish the sentence, a shot rang out and I immediately dropped and rolled behind the grill. I popped up to look and saw the guy in the boat fall over the side and into the bayou. The guy who had Ronald flung him to the side and ran for the boat. I sprang up and took aim but my bullets weren’t necessary.

  As soon as his foot hit the water, Godzilla launched up and grabbed his arm. He screamed and dropped his pistol, trying to wrench his arm from the gator’s powerful jaws. I steadied my aim, just in case he was able to work himself loose, but Godzilla didn’t disappoint. The gator yanked the man backward, then whirled around in the water and dived, dragging him under the murky water.

  Carter ran up as the bubbles rose and I hurried over to Ronald, who was struggling to stand. I grabbed his shoulder and helped steady him. He pulled off his helmet, threw both arms in the air and gave a loud woot.

  “Did you see that?” he said. “That gator saved my life. I love him! I love Godzilla.”

  He turned around and took off for his house.

  “Wait!” Carter yelled. “Where are you going?”

  “I have to bake a casserole,” Ronald said. “That’s what he likes, right?”

  He didn’t even wait for a response. In fact, he shifted from a fast walk to skipping and singing. I looked over at Carter, who was staring, mouth open.

  “Can I please shoot him for trespassing?” I asked.

  “I have a feeling it would save both of us a lot of trouble in the future, but I’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to do it,” he said.

  “What about for wearing ballet slippers to accost terrorists?”

  “That one might actually be on the books.”

  The back door banged open and Ida Belle and Gertie ran out with pajamas on, curlers in place, and guns drawn. Carter took one look at them and smiled.

  “The cavalry is here,” he said.

  Gertie scanned the yard, looking for something to shoot. “We always miss all the fun. Why didn’t you call us when the targets showed up?”

  “There were only two of them,” Carter said. “I got one and Godzilla handled the other.”

  “We saw from the upstairs window,” Ida Belle said. “Might be the highlight of my year, but the year’s still young.”

  Gertie stared at the bayou and shook her head. “That man is going to be really bad for Godzilla’s digestion. He’s used to eating cooked food.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “Ronald is off to bake a casserole. He’s a big fan now.”

  Gertie looked dismayed. “I hope he doesn’t think that means we’re friends or something. I can’t be seen talking to Ronald. I have a reputation to protect.”

  “Are you wearing Deadpool pajamas?” Carter asked.

  Gertie grinned. “Sexy, aren’t they? Comes with the mask, but I thought it would get in the way of my aim.”

  Carter looked slightly pained.

  “So how do we handle this…” I waved my hand at the bayou. “Whatever this is?”

  Carter blew out a breath. “There’s a good question.”

  “Are you going to sweep for the bodies?” I asked.

  “No point,” he said.

  Ida Belle nodded. “Tide’s going out. They’ll be in the lake by now, except for what Godzilla consumed.”

  It was probably wrong of me, but the last part of her statement made me smile.

  “So two unknown suspects attempted to break into Ms. Redding’s home and were accosted by her neighbor and a rogue alligator,” Ida Belle said.

  “Godzilla’s not a rogue,” Gertie said. “Clearly, he’s a trained watch-alligator.”

  “He is more efficient than a dog,” Ida Belle said. “That I’ll give him.”

  I nodded. “And no cleanup required.”

  Carter sighed. “I just shot a man. I have to go in and write this up. I’ll figure out something.”

  “If Ronald hadn’t witnessed the whole thing, we could have just pretended it didn’t happen,” Ida Belle said.

  “That situation could be rectified,” Gertie said.

  “No rectifying Ronald,” Carter said. “I need you three to get inside, secure the house,
and don’t come out for any reason.”

  “No need to,” Gertie said. “Obviously Godzilla has things under control.”

  We went back into the house and Carter grabbed his keys, gave me a kiss, and left. I locked everything up, turned on the alarm, and then headed for the kitchen to fill Ida Belle and Gertie in on what they hadn’t seen. Finally, all three of us were yawning so bad we couldn’t finish a sentence.

  “Let’s go to bed,” Ida Belle said. “Surely no one else is going to attempt anything tonight.”

  “We don’t even know what they were attempting,” Gertie said.

  “And we never will, but I’ll bet it was nothing good,” I said.

  “I can’t believe Ronald is cooking for Godzilla,” Gertie said as we headed upstairs. “My, how things can change.”

  “He was still lurking around my yard,” I said. “In ballet slippers.”

  “Some things will never change,” Ida Belle said.

  We headed into our rooms and I closed the door and hopped into bed. The sheets were nice and cool and I was definitely exhausted, but as I lay there, I couldn’t get my mind to stop whirling. I’d had entirely too much input in a short amount of time. And although I would never admit it, seeing my father face-to-face had affected me more than I’d expected it to. It was one thing to think the only parent you had left had chosen a dangerous mission and died rather than stick to a desk job and raise you, and it was a whole other thing to realize he’d faked his death and abandoned you. But seeing him had brought out so many emotions I didn’t realize were still lurking within me. Mostly anger. But with a large dose of hurt.

  Finally, I gave up, threw the covers back, and headed downstairs. As soon as all of this was over, I was getting a television in my room. I don’t know why I hadn’t already. There were too many nights I needed a distraction, and Carter couldn’t be there for all of them. Plus, sometimes he wasn’t the kind of distraction I needed. Like now. He’d know something was bothering me and would ask. And I wasn’t ready to talk about the things that were bothering me the most.

  I slumped onto the couch and turned on the television to the Hallmark mystery channel. It was innocuous enough to put me to sleep but not nearly as annoying as those Christmas movies Gertie loved so much. I stared at the screen, not really listening, and eventually drifted off to sleep.

  When you’re nearing the end, always go back to the beginning.

  The words from one of those mysteries were echoing in my mind as I drifted into consciousness…with a horrible crick in my neck. It took me a minute to realize that I wasn’t in my bed but half sitting, half lying on my couch. And the angle I’d finally arrived at was the reason for my neck protesting. I sat up and moved my head from side to side and finally felt that big pop that let me know everything was back in the right place.

  I looked at my watch and saw it was barely even 6:00 a.m. Carter had never shown up and I figured that meant he’d spent a long night at the sheriff’s department. I checked my cell phone and saw a text from him at around 4:00 a.m. saying that something had come up and he probably wouldn’t see me until early morning. That probably meant soon, so I headed into the kitchen to put on coffee. It wasn’t as though I was going back to sleep. I had important business this morning.

  I heard Carter’s truck pull into the drive, disarmed the alarm, and opened the door to let him in. He gave me a hug and quick kiss before sniffing the air.

  “Is that coffee I smell?” he asked.

  “I just put it on. Are you hungry?” I asked as we headed for the kitchen.

  “Not really. More sleepy than anything. Hopefully I can grab a couple hours at lunch.”

  I poured us both a cup of coffee and we sat at the kitchen table. “You have to go back to work right away?”

  He nodded. “Something came up with the case.”

  “Katia’s case?”

  “Yeah. The company she worked for is under investigation by the FBI.”

  “For what?”

  “Channeling money for the wrong people.”

  “You think she was going to blow the whistle?”

  He hesitated, then nodded. “I shouldn’t be telling you this and I expect you to keep it confidential—and that includes Ida Belle and Deadpool.”

  “My lips are sealed until the case is closed.”

  “Larry’s government work is intel and he’s not exactly retired, even though that’s the story he puts out there.”

  “So the theory is that Katia was going to give Larry information and someone capped her?”

  “It fits the narrative for that set of facts but I’m afraid that’s all I’ve got—a nice story.” He frowned. “Then there’s something else.”

  “What?”

  “In checking with previous neighbors, a few of the women have speculated that things were odd in the Guillory household.”

  “Odd how?”

  “They weren’t sure but one of them said that Natalia had a certain look that reminded her of herself before she left her abusive husband.”

  “You think Larry is a wife beater?”

  “It would put an entirely different spin on things, if you assume that shot was intended for Natalia and not Katia.” He watched me for a moment, then narrowed his eyes. “You don’t seem remotely surprised by any of this.”

  “I was a CIA operative, my father just returned from the grave, and I’ve been living in Sinful for months. Very little surprises me anymore. But I hadn’t failed to notice that Katia and Natalia were dressed alike, with similar builds, and both had long blond hair in ponytails. From a distance, in the dark, and with Katia standing there with Lina, it would have been easy to make a mistake.”

  “Professionals don’t usually make those kinds of mistakes.”

  “Snipers have an entirely different scope of training. But a civilian hit can still have professional qualities and human error.”

  “True. Which leaves me with a whole lot of nothing to move on.”

  I nodded. I knew all about the whole lot of nothing he was dealing with and I had more information than he did.

  “Did you call Morrow yet?” Carter asked, changing the subject.

  “I was about to. I wanted to do it before Ida Belle and Gertie got up.”

  I retrieved my cell phone from the living room and dialed Morrow’s number. It was early, but I knew he’d already be awake. He answered on the first ring and I leaned closer to Carter so he could hear.

  “Good morning, Director Morrow,” I said.

  “Fortune,” he said. “I was going to call you today.”

  “Do you have an update?”

  “A small one. We know Dwight entered the country from Mexico but we lost his path in Houston. With Houston’s proximity to Louisiana, I was concerned, but then we received word last night that he was spotted in DC. Have you had any trouble?”

  Relief coursed through me when I realized that for once, my father had lived up to his word. He was on radar, and this conversation with Morrow would ensure anyone gunning for him knew the last place he’d been seen. The best part—it was nowhere near Sinful.

  “I had to dispatch a couple of people yesterday,” I said. “There’s not going to be any way to identify them.”

  Translation—bad guys are dead and there’s not enough left to run through databases.

  “Do you need a cover story?” Morrow asked.

  I looked at Carter, who shook his head.

  “At this point, it’s been handled locally. I’ll let you know if that situation changes.”

  “Of course. Has there been any attempt at contact?”

  “No. But then we never expected it, right?”

  Morrow was silent for a couple seconds. “I know this has been hard on you. Are you doing all right?”

  I smiled because I’d managed to direct the conversation exactly where I wanted it to go. This single exchange between Morrow and me had the potential to get the heat off me and move the entire bumbling contingent of terrorists to DC
.

  “That depends on your viewpoint, I guess,” I said. “I went to New Orleans this past weekend with some friends to check out the whole Mardi Gras thing, and I thought I saw my dad in the crowd. I ran after this guy like an idiot but given the celebration, probably fit right in.”

  “What made you think it was him?”

  “The guy looked a little like him but in rethinking things, I’m sure it wasn’t. He’s just occupying so much of my mental space that I’m probably seeing things.”

  “Well, you were at Mardi Gras. I hear there’s drinking involved.”

  “Oh yeah. And plenty of it.”

  “What about the nudity?”

  “Saw it. Didn’t participate in it. Mostly wishing I hadn’t seen it, either.”

  “I hear it’s quite the show. I’m sorry, Fortune, but I have to get to a meeting. If you see or hear anything, please let me know. And if you want backup, just say the word. The agency is working on this round the clock. I’m going to get answers for you, Fortune. I promise.”

  “Thanks.”

  I hung up and Carter raised one eyebrow. “That’s it?” he asked. “How did you tip him off?”

  I gave him a sad smile. “You didn’t catch it? The key word was ‘dad.’ I never refer to my father that way.”

  Carter gave me a sympathetic look. “Did you and Morrow establish that tip after your father was spotted on that security camera?”

  “No. Before that. We knew that under dire circumstances, I couldn’t exactly call and mention the weather or my bad back or any other regular sort of conversation item because Morrow and I just don’t talk that way. But given that he was my father and the CIA golden boy, mentioning him wouldn’t set off alarms. I just didn’t figure that I’d be using him as a pass code and he’d also be the reason for the usage.”

  He took my hand into his and squeezed. “You had the plan in place. That’s what’s important. And now Morrow will be looking for the information you sent. You’ve done everything you can do.”

  I nodded. But I still wasn’t convinced.

  “And this time, your father came through,” Carter said.

  “Too little, too late.”

  “It’s never too late to do the right thing.”