by Jana DeLeon
“Carter first,” I said. “And then I’m hoping he’ll let me see Whiskey so I can help sort out his legal needs.”
She nodded and picked up the phone to dial Carter. “It’s a real shame that Carter had to lock him up. That boy is a little wild, but he’s no killer.”
Myrtle informed Carter we were there, then hung up and waved us back. We headed to the office and I rolled the upcoming conversation through my mind. Not a single scenario I imagined was lacking in the yelling department. Since none of us seemed in a hurry to get there, we trudged in and took our time sitting.
Carter took one look at us and narrowed his eyes. “Might as well spit it out.”
“We really have to work on our straight faces,” Gertie said.
“We went to the motel, figuring that’s where Starlight might be holed up,” I said.
“What did you think you were going to get out of her?” Carter asked. “Starlight can’t open her mouth without lying.”
“That’s true enough,” Ida Belle said. “But sometimes the lies people tell let you know more than they think.”
“So what lie do you think is relevant?” he asked.
“We didn’t actually speak to her,” I said. “She wasn’t there. And the guy in the room next to her said he’d seen her arguing with a biker-looking dude earlier, then she took off. So we figured we might take a look around.”
“You broke into her room!” Carter glared at us.
“Actually,” I said, “there was no breaking required because the locks are really old and—”
He held up a hand. “Skip it. Do I have to tell you how much trouble you could get in? What if someone had seen you? What if something illegal is going on with Starlight and your fingerprints are now in her room?”
“Oh, we wore latex gloves,” Ida Belle said. “We always carry them.”
Carter closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, as if trying to stall an oncoming headache. “What did you find?”
I recounted the texts and he managed to listen without interrupting or swearing. When I finished, he frowned and drummed his fingers on the desk.
“That’s bad,” he said finally. “I mean, good for me in that it’s a really solid lead and it might be enough to keep a grand jury from indicting Whiskey. The only problem is I have no way to present that information without access to Starlight’s phone or iPad, and I don’t have a good enough reason for a warrant to get them.”
“We were thinking if you could run down who this Catfish is, that might give you some ammunition,” I said. “And maybe if you talk to the desk clerk at the motel, he might remember Starlight being there in May, which would be suspicious enough, right?”
“When you talk to the clerk, tell him it’s the Jane Smith that hit on him,” Gertie said.
Carter grimaced, then stared out the window for a bit. Finally, he nodded. “That might be enough. I’ll see what I can find out. In the meantime, you three stay out of locked rooms that you do not have permission to enter.”
“Technically, I wasn’t in there,” Gertie said.
“Playing lookout still makes you an accessory,” Carter said.
Gertie looked over at me. “We’re going to have to discuss my role in this business. If I’m going down for the same crimes as the two of you then I shouldn’t be left out of all the fun parts.”
“You were kidnapped by a man who thought you were a hooker,” Ida Belle said. “That was your fun part.”
Carter held up his hands. “I really don’t want to know any more of this.”
“I don’t suppose I could have a word with Whiskey while we’re here?” I asked, changing the subject. “I want to get him some legal help if I can.”
“He’s already made some phone calls,” Carter said, “but since it’s only Myrtle and me here, you can talk to him. Just make it quick in case anyone else shows up.”
“How long are you keeping him here?” I asked.
“Until the state police can arrange a transfer,” he said. Then he nodded at Ida Belle and Gertie. “You two wait up front. I don’t want to have to explain why the three of you are talking to my suspect if the state police show up unannounced.”
“Won’t you have to explain her?” Gertie asked.
Carter grinned. “No. I’ll just lock her in the next cell and tell them she’s a suspect on a B and E.”
“Nice,” Ida Belle said.
I followed Carter back to the jail cells.
Whiskey was the only one in residence at the moment. I could tell by his expression that he was totally stressed, which was completely understandable, but he looked a tiny bit relieved when he saw me. I clenched my hands a little, hoping I did not screw this up and let him down.
“I’ll be right outside the door,” Carter said as he unlocked the cell next to Whiskey. “If the state police show up, you know what to do.”
I nodded and he left the cells, closing the door behind him.
“You going to play criminal if someone shows up?” Whiskey asked.
“That’s the plan.”
“Carter’s an okay dude, isn’t he?”
“I think so. He didn’t want to arrest you.”
Whiskey nodded. “I got that. I mean, he had to do everything all official-like, and like I said before, I know it’s the DA’s call, not his. But he didn’t look too happy about it.”
“No one likes to see the wrong guy go down for a crime, especially murder,” I said. “Because that means the real killer is still walking around.”
“No one except the killer, you mean.”
“That’s a given.”
“Have you found out anything? I don’t want to pressure you or anything but the situation kinda went from critical to dire.”
“Yeah, I get that. And to answer your question, yes. We found out that Venus was running with a motorcycle gang in New Orleans that her mother was involved with. Venus did something to make one of the leaders mad and he wanted her taken care of. Starlight was in Sinful right before Venus was killed.”
“Wow! I mean, I know Venus didn’t get on with her mother but you really think she killed her own daughter?”
“More likely she tracked her down and someone else did the deed.”
“Did you tell Carter this?”
I nodded.
“Then why the heck am I still in here?”
“Because I didn’t exactly come by that information through legal channels, which means Carter can’t acquire it to take to the DA. Not without doing some other legwork first.”
Whiskey stared at me for a moment. “So you’re saying throwing you in a cell wouldn’t be stretching the truth?”
“I might have done a bit of B and E. Well, E mostly as the lock didn’t require breaking to get inside.”
Whiskey smiled. “I knew I hired the right person. So Carter’s going to figure out a way to get the evidence, right?”
“Yes, but it won’t happen right away. Neither will a bail hearing, I’m afraid. And the holiday is going to delay that. I know an attorney. Do you want me to call him?”
“No thanks. I already have a guy. He handled Nickel’s defense.”
“Nickel went to jail.”
“And got half the time he should have. The big difference is Nickel did everything they accused him of. But I do have a favor to ask. I’m afraid it’s a big one.”
“Sure. Whatever you need,” I said, figuring he was going to ask us to look in on his father until he could do it again himself or make other arrangements.
“I need you to run the bar.”
“What? No! I don’t know anything about running a bar.”
“Nothing to it. You give people a drink same as you did me the other night in your kitchen. Only difference is you take money for it. I don’t run tabs or take credit cards. Just good old-fashioned cash. You can cancel food service for the time being. The regulars will understand and anyone new won’t know the difference.”
A million reasons why this was the worst idea
known to man ran through my mind. “But it’s the Swamp Bar. There’s bar fights and all kinds of other issues besides serving drinks. Surely you know people better suited to helping you out?”
“Better suited for what—robbing me blind? If I let any of my regulars open the place up, drinks will be free and the cash register will be empty at the end of the night. And as soon as that first guy gets a free drink, he’ll call everyone he knows and have them all down there. My stock wouldn’t last two days.”
He blew out a breath. “Look, I know it’s not your thing. But I don’t have anyone else to ask. Not that I’d trust. I talked to my cousin Ronnie over in Alabama. He’s trying to work something out but he can’t get here right away. And I can’t afford to have the bar closed or I’ll be choosing between my defense or taking care of my pops.”
“If Ronnie can get here within a couple days, wouldn’t that work?”
“Not really. Do you know how much profit I make on a holiday week?”
I shook my head. Bar profits were not on my list of things to know.
“I can net two thousand a night.”
“Holy crap! That’s a lot of profit.”
“Ten times what I make on a weeknight in a regular week. Most people cut way back on hours. Rigs send people home. A holiday week like Thanksgiving is one of the biggest profit weeks for the bar during the year. For the waitstaff, too. Most of them use Thanksgiving tips to buy their Christmas gifts.”
I sighed. “Now you’re just trying to make me feel too guilty to say no.”
“Is it working? Seriously, everything I just told you is true. If that bar isn’t open this week, it puts a serious crimp in my future deposits. Most of Pops’s treatments aren’t covered by insurance. Big surprise there, so I’ve been covering them myself. It’s worn down my savings to a concerning level. I need the Thanksgiving money, especially now.”
My shoulders slumped. The situation was worse than I’d thought. “You’re going to have to give me instructions—I mean detailed instructions. I’ll ask Carter for a notebook and you can write them down. And it will be a couple hours before I can get there, at least.”
“That’s no problem. Most people start wandering in after dark.”
“Okay. I’ll drop by for the instructions on my way to the bar. If the state police show up before I get back, leave them with Carter.”
His relief was apparent. “I really owe you. And I’ll pay your PI rate for the work. The tips are all between you and the IRS. Should you choose to tell them about it.” He forced a smile.
“Don’t thank me yet. I might manage to burn the place down. I tend to get into trouble over there.”
He shrugged. “Trouble is what bars are for.”
Chapter Eighteen
Ida Belle and Gertie managed to hold back their questions until we left the sheriff’s department and climbed into Ida Belle’s SUV. Then they both started.
“What was that yelling about?”
“I thought Carter was okay with the breaking and entering. Well, sort of.”
“The yelling wasn’t about the B and E,” I said. “It was about something I promised to do for Whiskey. Actually, I was kind of hoping you’d help me with it.”
“Of course.”
“No problem.”
I looked at them and grinned. “You don’t even know what it is yet.”
Ida Belle shrugged. “You agreed to do it, so I’m in.”
Gertie nodded. “The only plans I had for tonight were laundry and cleaning the bird cage. I’m happy to postpone either or both.”
“Okay. This isn’t in our normal scope of duties,” I said. “And I’m really hoping no firearms will be required.”
Gertie looked disappointed. “That whole bird cage thing is looking better.”
“Whiskey needs us to run the Swamp Bar for him,” I said.
“No wonder Carter was yelling,” Ida Belle said.
“Whoot!” Gertie yelled so loud that Ida Belle flinched. “This whole PI thing is the best job ever!”
Ida Belle looked a bit less enthusiastic. “This is well beyond our normal scope. Does Whiskey really want rank amateurs running his bar? Seems like he’d know people better suited.”
I explained Whiskey’s situation with his dad, the holiday money, and the stealing-him-blind thing. Ida Belle frowned and nodded.
“I can see his point,” she said. “Well, I’m up for anything once. One more thing to add to the list of things I did before I died.”
I stared. “I’m really hoping we add a lot more to that list before things take that big a downturn.”
Ida Belle shrugged. “You never know.”
Gertie rolled her eyes. “Now that the voice of doom has spoken, give us details.”
“I can’t yet,” I said. “Whiskey’s supposed to write up some instructions. We show up this evening and that’s all I know for now.”
“I hope it’s bikini night or something,” Gertie said.
“No bikinis for you,” Ida Belle said. “We just got back from a vacation where Fortune and I and half of Florida saw more of you than any of us wanted.”
“If there were any themes this week, I’m sure Whiskey would have mentioned them,” I said. “I assume he’ll put together a list of where to find things, how to run the cash register, what to charge, and the general rules for the patrons.”
“You’re assuming there are any,” Ida Belle said, then looked at Gertie. “However, there will probably be rules for you. Things like no causing a riot, discharging a weapon, blowing up anything from your purse, stealing a boat, or any of the other things you have a tendency to get up to. A lot of which happened at the bar.”
Gertie waved a hand in dismissal. “Ancient history. This is so exciting! Fortune coming to town is like having a whole second childhood.”
“You haven’t completely made it out of the first,” Ida Belle said. “So what time should I pick you up?”
“Actually, I was thinking we might want to take two vehicles,” I said. “Just in case there’s an accident or something.”
Ida Belle glanced back at Gertie, who was car dancing. “Or something.”
Gertie insisted I stop by her house on the way to the Swamp Bar. She claimed she had something I absolutely had to have in order to do my job tonight running the bar. I figured it was either a weapon or some newfangled push-up bra. Regardless, I would be passing on the offer. I pulled up and hurried inside because it was getting late and I still needed to stop and get the instructions from Whiskey.
Ida Belle was in the living room giving Francis the side-eye.
“What’s he singing now?” I asked.
“He wasn’t singing,” she said. “I don’t know Latin, but whatever he was saying was intense. He started flapping and bobbing up and down.”
“There is no telling what’s stored in that bird’s mind. Quite frankly, I’m surprised the cops auctioned him. Surely he knows some stuff they don’t.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like he could take the witness stand.”
“That would be totally cool if he could. I would pay to see that.”
Ida Belle grinned. “I would too.”
“Gertie wanted me to stop by. She has something for me?”
Ida Belle shrugged. “Her highness has been closed in her bedroom for over an hour. I thought about yelling for her, but then I think about what might come out and I’m scared.”
“Might as well find out now,” I said and called to Gertie that I was there.
A minute later, she bobbled into the living room, not quite balancing on the high heels she wore. And that was the best part of the outfit. The rest was so terrifying that Ida Belle actually made a sort of “eek” sound, as when normal women saw a mouse.
“You are not even getting into my vehicle dressed like that,” Ida Belle said once she’d found her voice. “Much less going into the bar.”
I stood silently, mouth slightly open. I was still trying to figure out what she was going for a
nd drawing a complete blank. “What…?” I asked. “I mean…”
“This is my sexy chief look,” Gertie said. “Isn’t it awesome?”
Ida Belle shook her head. “No. ‘Awesome’ is not the word that comes to mind.”
The outfit was typical Gertie and not in a good way. A short, tight brown dress made of something that looked like rawhide clung to every square inch of her body. Unfortunately, the clinging plunged deep at the breast line and was short at the booty line. Her boots looked like black leather and had a ridiculously high heel and fur around the top. A headband with feathers completed the clothes part of the outfit, but perhaps the most disturbing part was the spear she carried.
“Why can’t you dress like normal people?” Ida Belle asked. “Look at Fortune—jeans and a T-shirt. That’s what you wear to the Swamp Bar. If you insist on holiday-themed dress, at least bat for the other side.”
“Please,” Gertie said. “Have you ever seen a sexy pilgrim?”
“No,” Ida Belle said. “That’s my point.”
“Aren’t you afraid that something will…you know, pop out?” I asked.
“I barely got everything in,” Gertie said. “There’s no way it’s coming out without help.”
Ida Belle gave her a look of dismay.
“Okay, well as your boss I have a couple of requirements before you’re allowed to serve at the bar,” I said. “First off, lose the spear. You’ll be carrying drinks and it was a risk walking from your bedroom to the living room with that thing. I’m not about to let you stroll through a crowded bar carrying drinks with it.”
She stuck the spear in the corner. “I was just showing you the entire getup. I didn’t intend to bring the spear.”
“Good,” I said. “You’re also not serving in those boots, so go put on some flats. If you fall and break a hip, we’ll have to close the bar. If you fall with a tray on someone else, a fight could ensue and we’d have to close the bar.”
“This is not going to look right with tennis shoes,” Gertie said.
