by Jana DeLeon
I tapped my finger on the table. “I wonder if Betty gave him the money.”
“The clerk didn’t know,” Ida Belle said. “Betty never mentioned anything and in fact, seemed to avoid her after the phone call. Probably embarrassed.”
“Probably,” I agreed. “It’s possible that even though Betty was upset, she listened to her friend and did some poking around. If she found out Otis was playing her, what would she do about it?”
“You mean would she be mad enough to kill him over it?” Gertie said. “That’s the question with all of them, isn’t it? Where that line is.”
“The answer is going to be different for everyone,” Ida Belle said. “And we have no way of knowing.”
“It’s also possible Betty had already given Otis money and didn’t want to admit it to her friend,” Gertie said.
Ida Belle nodded. “That’s very likely. Betty might have called her friend, fishing for support, but instead, she got an earful of something she didn’t want to hear.”
“Either way,” Gertie said, “we have to assume that all the women scammed or potentially scammed had motive.”
“I agree,” I said. “Which puts us back to opportunity.”
“Any one of them could have created a situation where they could have lifted that key card,” Ida Belle said. “When we were at the beach, I noticed everyone just walked off to swim and left their bags in or near their chairs. It might be a bit forward to go digging through someone’s items, but it wouldn’t be impossible to find a window of opportunity where people weren’t paying much attention.”
“It would have been really easy with Otis,” Gertie said. “He carried his room key in one of those lanyards with a pocket. I bet it was just sitting in his chair while he was in the water. Easy to lean over and pretend to fix a shoe and swipe the lanyard.”
“There you go,” Ida Belle said.
Gertie sighed. “This sucks. Everyone had motive. Everyone had opportunity. At least as far as we can tell. So what are we left with?”
“Method,” I said. “We really need the name of that poison.”
“Then we better pull off this three-ring circus at the sheriff’s department,” Ida Belle said.
“We’ve pulled off harder,” Gertie said.
“And botched easier,” Ida Belle reminded her.
“No matter the outcome,” I said, “at least we have some names for Byron. So even if Benton fluffs up his file enough to get the go-ahead to arrest Gertie, there’s no way the DA will pursue charges without more evidence against Gertie and those other people completely cleared.”
“True,” Ida Belle said. “But how long will Gertie have to sit in jail waiting for the DA to review the file and make a decision? Given Benton’s lack of popularity, he might drag his feet as long as he can, just to avoid dealing with him.”
“I refuse to let that waste of air ruin my vacation,” Gertie said. “And I’m not spending even one night in that crap building of theirs. I heard Benton complaining because the AC doesn’t work half the time. Might as well be in jail in Mexico.”
“I think Mexico might be a little worse,” I said. “But our main goal is keeping you out of any jail cell, even if only for a day.”
Ida Belle nodded. “Then we might as well get this over with. Let’s head upstairs and get changed for our visit to the sheriff’s department. We can call Marie then, too, and let her know to get ready. I called her last night to explain the situation and told her to grab a prepaid phone from my stash this morning.”
I stared. “I’m not sure what it says about a person when they keep a stash of prepaid phones.”
“Drug dealer, usually,” Gertie said. “But in this case, it says ‘optimistic.’”
“How is that?” Ida Belle asked.
“Because if we need one of the phones,” Gertie said, “then that means we’re neck-deep in an investigation. And there’s nothing more fun than our investigations.”
I grinned. “God help me, but I might agree with you.”
When we entered the sheriff’s department, the dispatcher gave us a big smile. “I see you ladies just can’t stay away,” she said.
“Can’t stay away from trouble, anyway,” Ida Belle said. “It follows this one like a stray dog.” She pointed at Gertie.
“You try to work a little romance into your vacation and everything falls apart,” Gertie said. “What is the world coming to?”
The dispatcher shook her head. “Wasn’t no romance coming from a date with that guy. At least, not after you parted with some cash. He was a bad lot.”
“If everyone knows that, then why is Benton so focused on Gertie for killing him?” I asked. “Given the general gossip we’ve heard, seems like there should be no shortage of suspects. Some who actually lost money in the deal.”
The dispatcher glanced back down the hallway, then turned around and leaned forward, lowering her voice. “But most of the other women are locals. If the sheriff retires as we suspect, that appointment will happen soon. Putting a local in jail for murder upsets people and could affect the decision on a replacement.”
“So Benton thinks trying to pin a murder on the wrong person is okay because if he arrests a local he might not get appointed?” Ida Belle asked. “What the hell is wrong with him?”
“He’s lazy and stupid,” the dispatcher said.
“But poor taste in dinner partners isn’t evidence of murder, especially when there are a ton of better suspects,” I said. “His plan doesn’t make sense. Even if he’s the laziest and stupidest person on the planet.”
“He doesn’t have to make it work forever,” the dispatcher said. “Just until after the appointment. Popularity among the voters is everything down here.”
And suddenly, Benton’s fixation on Gertie made perfect sense. He didn’t care if a completely innocent woman spent time in jail or thousands of dollars on a lawyer. As long as he arrested someone who wasn’t a local, then he wasn’t in the hot seat with the local politicians and judges.
“Unbelievable,” Ida Belle said. “And I thought Louisiana politics were corrupt.”
“Oh, I could tell you some stories,” the dispatcher said.
“I’m sure you could,” I said. “But I guess we should give our statements and get out of here while we’re all still able. I don’t suppose there’s another deputy who could take them?”
“I’m afraid not,” the dispatcher said. “We run full staff in the summer because the resorts are full, so as soon as season is over, everyone takes vacation or medical leave for things they put off for months. At the moment, I’m it for office staff. We’ve only got one other deputy working today and he just left to break up some drunks fighting at the beach. You could wait, but it will probably take him an hour or better to get things sorted.”
I sighed and hoped my excitement was disguised by the disappointed look I was aiming for. “Then I guess we best get this over with. Call Benton and let him know we’re here.” I looked over at Ida Belle and Gertie. “Do you guys mind if I go first? I need to run to the drugstore and figured I could get that done while you guys finish up.”
They both nodded and the dispatcher picked up her phone and let Benton know we were there. A minute later, he walked down the hall, already glaring at us. I tamped down the urge to do a flying kick to his head. Just looking at him put me in the red. Benton was everything that was wrong with a certain type of law enforcement officers.
“I’d like to go first,” I said as he approached. “I have some errands to run.”
He said something that came out as a grunt, turned around and trudged back down the hall.
“I guess that’s my cue to follow?” I asked.
“Knowing Benton, it’s all you’re going to get,” the dispatcher said.
“Okay, well, I’ll make this as quick as possible,” I said, and headed after him.
Ida Belle knew that as soon as the door closed behind me, she was to text Marie and let her know to make the phone call. I
hoped to God she wasn’t in the restroom or if she was, took her phone with her, because I didn’t want to spend a single second longer with Benton than I had to.
As I walked, I scanned the offices and spotted Benton’s nameplate on the messiest one. It figured. He probably had every case file he’d ever worked on his desk. But at least it was the last one on the hallway, right before the room they used for questioning. And while you could see all the way down the hallway from the seats Ida Belle and Gertie had taken in the lobby, the dispatcher’s desk was offset so that she couldn’t see past the first two rooms.
Benton was already seated and ready with the recorder when I stepped into the room. He didn’t even bother to look up at me. Just waved at the chair and readied his fingers on the Record button. Apparently, he was just as anxious to get me out of the department as I was.
He gave the usual particulars for the recording—his name and mine, date, situation—then looked at me. “Please describe the scene when you entered the restaurant and continue until the point where I arrived.”
I started talking, not bothering to put in extraneous description. Even though I wasn’t going to finish my statement now, I would have to at some point. No sense dragging it out with adjectives, especially as Ida Belle was already recording when I arrived. If Benton noticed my sparse sentences, he didn’t care to comment.
I was about two minutes into my statement when the dispatcher poked her head into the room.
“Got a situation at the resort,” she said.
Benton clicked off the recorder. “Send McGill,” he said.
“Can’t,” the dispatcher said. “McGill’s still working the drunks at the beach. Besides, the resort manager asked specifically for you. Said you were already dealing with a related issue.”
Benton cursed and rose from his chair as the dispatcher hurried off. He started out of the room and I cleared my throat.
“Uh, so I guess we’ll do this later?” I asked.
“Don’t have a choice,” he mumbled.
“Okay. Can I use the ladies’ before I leave?”
“Across the hall,” he said as he walked off. I waited until he was at the front desk and Ida Belle asked where I was. He barked out something about the ladies’ room and then left the building, slamming the door behind him.
I stepped out into the hall and watched as Gertie started coughing, then fell out of her chair and onto the floor.
Chapter Sixteen
I dashed into Benton’s office as Ida Belle yelled at the dispatcher for help. I scanned the top of the desk, hoping the file would be clearly labeled and stand out, but I was out of luck. Piles of unlabeled folders were strewn in every direction, as if someone had opened the filing cabinet and thrown them onto the desk.
I started opening folders and scanning the documents as quickly as possible, closing them and moving on to the next as soon as I could zero in on a name. I heard excited voices coming from the lobby and the dispatcher saying she’d call the paramedics. I grabbed the next file, then the next, hoping I could find what I was looking for before the paramedics showed up and the dispatcher had calmed down enough to realize I still hadn’t appeared.
After four more unsuccessful attempts, I finally hit pay dirt. I flipped through the completely unorganized papers in the file and finally located the medical examiner’s report. Without even bothering to read it, I simply snapped a pic of the two pages with my phone. As I flipped over the last, I saw a copy of a check, then another, then another. I took pics of them and by the time I finished, I heard a man’s voice in the lobby.
I checked the images to make sure they were all clear, then hauled butt up front, feigning shock and alarm when I arrived.
“Oh my God,” I cried as a paramedic dropped onto the floor next to Gertie. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Ida Belle said. “She just collapsed.”
“I hope it’s not a heart attack,” the dispatcher said as she clasped her hands together. “That happened last year. Guy just keeled over right there in that same chair.”
“Maybe you should get rid of that chair,” I said.
The dispatcher nodded. “As soon as I get off work, I’ll shoot it into pieces with my Desert Eagle then burn it.”
I gave her an approving nod. “I like your style.”
The paramedic looked up at us. “Her vitals are strong. I think she just passed out.”
I glanced over at Ida Belle, who barely shook her head then inched forward and poked Gertie in the ribs with her shoe. Gertie bolted upright, smacking the paramedic in the face with her head, sending him reeling sideways into the entry and straight into Benton, who’d just opened the door.
He must have forgotten something, because no way he should have been back so soon. And he couldn’t have picked a worse moment to show up. He clutched the doorframe, trying to maintain his balance. But the paramedic was built more like a linebacker than a wide receiver, and Benton’s complete lack of muscle tone was no match for two hundred twenty pounds of falling mass. He lost his grip and fell backward into a woman carrying a huge pink cake.
The woman screamed and the cake went straight up into the air and came crashing down right in Benton’s face. Benton scrambled up and looked wildly around, trying to figure out who to arrest for this most recent embarrassment. The woman who’d lost her cake stared in dismay at the pink icing dripping onto Benton’s shirt and started yelling like a crazy woman about the most important baby shower of the decade.
I saw Benton reach for his gun and was afraid he was actually going to shoot her when another woman hurried up next to the screaming lady and grabbed her around the shoulders. She leaned in and said something that I couldn’t hear, then tugged on the distraught cake lady and led her across the street. The paramedic stepped in front of Benton and held up his hands.
“Sir,” the paramedic said. “You need to calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Benton yelled. “I ought to arrest you.”
“For falling?” Ida Belle asked. “How does that work?”
Benton glared at us, then it must have dawned on him that the guy who’d knocked him down was a medical professional. He looked down at Gertie, who was still sitting on the floor, and scowled. I was fairly certain he was mad enough to flush but with all the pink icing on him, I couldn’t really tell.
“I should have known you’d be the cause of this,” Benton said. “Everything bad that’s happened this week has had you at the center of it. I’m done playing nice.”
“That was you playing nice?” Gertie asked. “Let me ask you something—if you died tomorrow, would anyone come to the funeral?”
“Not likely,” the dispatcher grumbled.
“Get up off that floor!” Benton yelled.
“Sir, this woman has had a medical incident,” the paramedic said. “She’s not doing anything without my okay.”
“Then you better okay her to get out of my sight before I lock her up,” Benton said.
The paramedic was completely confused but apparently saw the futility of arguing with an idiot. He leaned over and extended a hand to Gertie. “Are you okay to stand?” he asked.
Gertie nodded and he pulled her up, then clutched her shoulders and took a good look at her eyes.
“Are you dizzy?” he asked.
“A little,” Gertie said.
“I think I should take you to the hospital,” he said. “Get you checked out.”
“That’s not necessary,” Gertie said. “I’m sure it’s just my blood sugar. I skipped breakfast. I know I shouldn’t, but I just wasn’t hungry.”
“Then at least let me check and give you a shot of glucagon if you need it,” he said.
“No need to go to all that trouble,” Gertie said. She reached out and swiped a hunk of icing off Benton’s shirt and popped it in her mouth.
Benton’s jaw dropped and he threw his hands up in the air, sending icing flying everywhere. “All of you get out!”
“W
hat about our statements?” Ida Belle asked.
“I don’t care,” Benton said.
“You don’t care that a woman assaulted someone and destroyed the resort’s buffet?” Ida Belle asked.
Benton glared at her. “The only thing I wish is that the woman with the flamingo had been a faster runner.”
He stomped off down the hall.
“What about the call at the resort?” the dispatcher called after him.
“I don’t care if the whole thing falls into the sea,” Benton yelled.
We all looked at one another for a couple seconds, no one sure how to react. Then the dispatcher started laughing.
“I haven’t seen Benton this mad in forever,” she said, wiping tears from her face. “You ladies have made my week.”
I looked over at Gertie. “We better get out of here before Benton decides to arrest you for not eating breakfast.”
The paramedic shook his head. “That guy needs therapy.”
“He needs more than that,” Gertie said. “My mother would have recommended a good old-fashioned butt-whooping.”
The paramedic grinned. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
Gertie nodded. “Thanks for your help. I’ll try to be more careful about my meals.”
He gave us a nod and headed out. We thanked the dispatcher for her assistance and followed behind him.
“Well?” Ida Belle asked as soon as the door closed behind us. “Did you get it?”
“Yep,” I said. “The ME report and the check copies.”
“Then let’s head over to that café and get something to eat while you fill us in,” Gertie said.
Ida Belle stared. “You ate half the breakfast buffet. How can you possibly be hungry?”
“Acting is hard work,” Gertie said. “I got a complete core workout just trying not to laugh. I’ll be able to skip sit-ups for a week.”
“You’ve skipped sit-ups since 1952,” Ida Belle said. “The only sit-ups you do is when you get out of bed in the morning.”
“Not true,” Gertie said. “I sit up when I’m out back reading in my lawn chair.”