Bullets and Beads
Page 28
The only good thing was that I appeared to no longer be under surveillance. No one had tripped my cameras or attempted to run me off the road. No strangers had been spotted in Sinful, and with everyone buzzing about the Larry-Annika situation, they were all on high alert again, seeing bad guys behind every bush. The enemy wouldn’t have been able to stop for gas near Sinful without someone calling the sheriff’s department.
With the threat no longer hanging over us, Ida Belle and Gertie moved back to their houses. Carter insisted on riding it out until the allotted time had passed but he was so busy with sheriff’s department business that I rarely saw him until night anyway. Ally was probably the most excited of all of us to get everyone back into their own home. That meant Francis went back home to Gertie. Ally reported that he’d been on a Godfather revival kick and had been quoting the movie, complete with gunshots, all day and night.
On the day, I sat in my backyard with Ida Belle, Gertie, and Carter, pretending to enjoy the beautiful weather but checking the display on my phone every second, silently willing it to ring. Carter grilled hamburgers and even Ronald dropped by with a casserole for Godzilla in case he turned up. I was seriously afraid Ronald was going to insist on us becoming neighborly and I wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment. He’d gazed longingly at the burgers on the grill, but when it was obvious an invitation wasn’t forthcoming, he’d finally headed back to his house, prom dress, silver slippers, tiara, and all.
We finished our burgers and were contemplating another round of beers and breaking out the cookies when my phone rang.
“It’s Morrow,” I said, almost frozen.
They all stared at me as the phone rang and finally, I managed to lift it and answer.
“All clear!” Morrow’s words boomed through the phone and a cheer went up around me.
My shoulders slumped as a week and a half’s worth of tension fled my body.
“I take it your crew is all there?” Morrow asked.
“Just waiting for your call so the celebration could begin,” I said. “What can you tell me?”
“The coup was completely decimated,” he said. “We coordinated with some handpicked operatives from the countries that would have been affected, and we picked up over thirty terrorists involved in the plan in our sweep and killed a few more. The equipment has been disarmed and dismantled and will be studied. We’ve identified all the terrorist cells participating and have already begun plans to counterattack, targeting leadership.”
“If they’re not organized within, they can’t organize with others,” I said. “What about the internal problem?”
“That was hard,” Morrow said. “No one wanted to believe it, but when we started kicking over rocks, we got enough to indict everyone. It’s going to be very ugly for them.”
“Their choice,” I said. “I have no sympathy.”
“Neither do I,” Morrow said. “You really came through on this one, Fortune. This country and several others owe you a huge debt of gratitude and it pains me that you won’t be standing on a platform in DC when medals are handed out.”
“That’s okay. I get my thanks these days in baked goods, and I’m happy with that.”
“I never thought I’d see the day that Fortune Redding was settled and happy in civilian life, but I believe you.”
“What about my father?”
“Well, he’s been cleared of any treason charges even though the military has elected not to officially claim him.”
“Of course.”
“But I’m afraid I have some bad news where he’s concerned,” Morrow said, his tone grim. “Operatives caught up with him on a boat off the coast of Cape Charles but before our guys could intercept, the boat exploded.”
I shook my head and sighed.
“There was no body recovered,” Morrow continued, “but the extent of the damage is such that no one could have survived the explosion. And we had visual confirmation of your father boarding the boat and then on deck just minutes before it blew. I’m really sorry, Fortune. This is not something a child should have to live through once, much less twice.”
“Good thing I’m not a child anymore.”
“To a parent, you’re always a child. I’ll let you get back to your friends. Please call me if you need anything.”
I hung up and filled the rest of them in on the conversation. They cheered over the arrests, and Gertie, who might be even more mercenary than me, cheered over the ones who were killed. They all sobered when I got to the part about my father.
“Do you think he’s really gone this time?” Gertie asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. If anyone could have escaped that situation, it would have been my father. But Morrow seems certain, so…”
Carter took my hand and squeezed.
“I’m really sorry,” Ida Belle said.
Gertie nodded. “Me too.”
“Yeah, I am too,” I said. “Does that mean I forgave him?”
“It means whatever you want it to,” Ida Belle said. “There are no rules here. Only what’s right for you.”
“Well, what’s right is that a coup to destroy world leaders didn’t happen and the enemy is disbanded. I think it’s time to break out whiskey shots and those cookies. This is a celebration, after all!”
Gertie jumped up from her chair and clapped. “I got beads for everyone…just in case it all went well. They’re in my purse. Let me run get them.”
She hurried into the house and returned with her purse, which she plopped into her chair and began to dig through.
“Found them,” she said, and tugged on a set of beads. “Oh no!”
I heard a recognizable clink and jumped up from my chair as Gertie yanked the live grenade out of her purse and chunked it in the bayou. It barely hit the surface before it exploded, sending a spout of water a good twenty feet in the air. We all stared as fish began to float to the surface.
“Sorry,” she said. “I must have depressed the striker lever, and then the beads got tangled in the pin and when I pulled…”
She looked at the three of us, staring at her in disbelief, then turned her hands up.
“Fish fry?” she asked.
A week later, most everything had returned to normal. Carter and Tiny were back at his house doing the bachelor thing, except for the nights when I was there or he was at my place. Larry, as I expected, had wasted no time, and the For Sale sign was up. He’d packed everything and moved a couple days before. I never heard from him again after our conversation at the hospital, but I couldn’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to see or talk to anyone who reminded me that I was intel and got duped by a Russian spy pretending to be my wife. There were mitigating circumstances, of course, but I figured once Larry got over grieving the real Natalia, who’d died years ago, he would settle into angry pretty quickly.
It was a glorious Tuesday morning and I’d just finished putting on a load of laundry when UPS knocked on my door and left a package. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, as I preferred to get everything I could delivered rather than do the whole shopping thing, but I couldn’t remember ordering anything in a while.
I retrieved the package and headed to the kitchen for a break and a glass of sweet tea. After I sat, I opened the box and pulled out what appeared to be a picture of some sort. I pulled the wrapper away from the frame and gasped.
It was a picture of the Florence Cathedral. My mother’s favorite structure.
I drew the picture close to my chest and smiled.
“Thanks, Dad.”
* * *
More adventures with Fortune and the girls coming this summer!
* * *
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