by Jana DeLeon
“Seems appropriate,” Gertie said. “If there’s trouble, Starlight was always in the middle. Venus definitely didn’t fall far from that tree.”
“What about the New Orleans police?” I asked.
“Carter called his buddy early this morning, but when he realized Myrtle was in the break room, he closed his door,” Ida Belle said. “She climbed on the counter to get closer to the vent but couldn’t make out what he was saying. Apparently, he also knows to keep his voice low.”
“He’s figuring out all our tricks,” Gertie said.
“What I do know is that Percy was down there at 7:00 a.m. with his list of serial numbers,” Ida Belle said. “And they all matched. Myrtle could hear him yelling all the way down the hall.”
“Was all the money there?” I asked.
“Yep,” Ida Belle said. “Which lends credence to your theory that if Bart helped Venus steal the money he got shorted in the deal.”
“Is Percy still on the suspect list?” Gertie asked.
“He’s not off of it,” I said. “When the money came up missing, you have to figure his first thought was Venus. If he accused her of taking the money, what do you think her response would have been?”
“Knowing Venus?” Ida Belle said. “She would have told him to call the police with his crazy idea and see what they had to say about him keeping cash in a safe-deposit box.”
“So she would have challenged him on it,” I said.
“Or outright mocked him,” Gertie said. “Especially if she knew he wouldn’t or couldn’t do anything about it.”
“Definitely not off the list then,” I said.
“As much as it pains me to think it,” Ida Belle said, “I’m going to have to agree with you. I was willing to count Percy out before this money thing, but now…I don’t know.”
“It would help if we knew when Percy found out the money was missing,” I said. “If he went to the bank after Venus was killed, that’s a whole different story.”
“Yeah, but if he went before, the smartest thing he can do is say he doesn’t remember,” Ida Belle said. “Carter can subpoena the bank records, but it will take some time. And even if he was there before Venus was killed, we don’t know when the money was taken.”
“So what we really need is for the manager to remember the exact day that Percy yelled at her,” I said and sighed. “Half a year after the fact.”
Ida Belle shook her head. “That is not looking like a good angle to pursue. At least not first, anyway. Maybe that visual thing you were talking about doing will help us out.”
Ally arrived and put our breakfast in front of us. I stabbed at my blueberry pancakes as if they owed me money. Frustration was getting the best of me and I needed to take a step back and try to get perspective. But it was hard to do when a man’s future, his business’s future, and his dying father’s life were riding on my success.
“He didn’t make a mistake in hiring you,” Ida Belle said quietly.
“Can you read minds?” I asked.
“Sometimes they’re not all that hard,” Ida Belle said. “If this was a cut-and-dried situation, Carter would have already figured it out. He’s smart, has experience, and has access to more information than you do.”
I thought about that. “You’re right. But he also has the government bureaucracy tying his hands, and that’s something we don’t have. Plus, he doesn’t have the two of you.”
“Got that right,” Gertie said. “No one has seen or heard more than Ida Belle and me. Our combined memories cover the history of this town for the past…uh, for a lot of years.”
I grinned, feeling better already. “You’re right. We’ve got this.”
Carter wasn’t at the sheriff’s department but he’d asked Deputy Breaux to take our statements. We had discussed it a bit at breakfast, but ultimately saw no reason to hide anything that we’d done. Percy wasn’t going to press charges against the people who’d saved his life, and the DA wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole, lest he get ostracized by the community at large, who had already decided we were heroes.
A couple at the café had insisted on paying for our breakfast. One of the Sinful Ladies had bought us each a loaf of banana nut bread for later, and Pastor Don had required the entire café to stop eating and join in a prayer of thanks for us. All the attention was making me itchy. I was beginning to long for the days when everything I did had to be a secret. Even Deputy Breaux had insisted on giving us all high fives.
I would have liked to talk to Whiskey, but with Starlight and Catfish locked up in the next cells, I knew it was out of the question. And with the New Orleans police due to arrive at any time, Deputy Breaux couldn’t risk letting me back there.
When we were on our way out, I got a text from Carter.
Working on getting Whiskey released. Will call later.
Finally, some good news. I read the text to Ida Belle and Gertie and they both smiled.
“I hope he’s out in time for Thanksgiving,” Gertie said.
“I hope he’s out in time to open the bar tonight,” Ida Belle said.
Gertie looked dismayed. “Maybe if he’s out, we can still help. You know, until he gets back in the swing of things.”
“He was gone one night,” Ida Belle said. “I’m pretty sure his swing is fine.”
“But I have another outfit,” Gertie said.
“If we have to work tonight, you are not going as sexy anything,” Ida Belle said. “You darn near became the Headless Boatman last night and that’s not a good look on any holiday.”
“Yeah, but in all fairness, that whole potentially headless thing wasn’t due to my outfit,” Gertie said.
“She has a point,” I said.
“Whose side are you on?” Ida Belle asked. “The side of propriety or the side of unplanned nakedness?”
“I’m only for unplanned nakedness if Carter stops by without calling first,” I said.
“There you go,” Ida Belle said. “If we bartend tonight, we’re all wearing jeans, T-shirts, and tennis shoes. Maybe even chain mail.”
Gertie smiled. “I have sexy chain mail.”
We spent the rest of the morning and into the afternoon trying to diagram the case. I’d removed the pictures of fruit hanging on my kitchen wall and now it was covered with paper and sticky notes. We were all sitting in chairs, staring at the notes, drinking our third round of coffee, and hoping that inspiration would come.
So far, all the paper hadn’t clarified anything at all except that I really didn’t like the fruit pictures.
I rose from my chair to put on another pot of coffee and sighed. “This didn’t help one bit.”
Ida Belle shook her head. “It’s great information, and I can see how this type of thing might shake something loose. But yeah, I’m still not convinced on any one over the other. I can still make arguments for and against Bart, Percy, and Catfish.”
“And Whiskey,” Gertie said. “Which is the problem. I mean, yeah, we definitely found some credible suspects to take the heat solely off Whiskey. Enough so the DA might never bring up charges against him. But he’s already been arrested, and people will never stop talking. Stop wondering.”
Ida Belle nodded. “Whiskey’s business doesn’t necessarily depend on the goodwill of the most stellar of Sinful’s residents, but a murder rap hanging over his head could still cause problems. And not just with the locals, but with his suppliers.”
“I get it,” I said as I flopped back down in my chair. “But I don’t know how to fix it.”
“Maybe the forensics team will come up with something on Venus’s body,” Gertie said. “A hair or something.”
“A hair belonging to who?” I asked. “She lived with Percy, was in a relationship with Whiskey, and grabbed Bart’s privates the night she disappeared. Unless that hair belonged to Catfish, we’d still be in the dark.”
“Crap,” Gertie said. “Then I’m going to hope they find one of Catfish’s hairs.”
“
Me too,” I said. “But we’re being paid to do more than hope.”
Ida Belle patted my shoulder. “You can’t create answers when there aren’t any. We’ve assessed this nine ways to Sunday and the reality is any of them could have done it, but none of them make complete sense.”
My phone rang and I checked the display. “It’s Carter,” I said and answered. He sounded exhausted.
“I just got done going over everything with the DA,” he said. “Between the break-in and attack on Percy and what the New Orleans police have on Catfish, he’s happy to bring them up on those charges. He’s itching for a murder charge for Venus but wants to put everything together—timeline, all the evidence, statements—before he moves forward. We did find a USB drive in the pocket of one of Venus’s bags but it’s too damaged to get anything off of.”
“Have Catfish and Starlight said anything else?”
“They’ve flapped their gums plenty but haven’t said anything of merit. They’re still insisting they never found Venus when they came to Sinful in May. Whiskey gave me the names of some regulars and two have identified Catfish as someone they talked to in the Swamp Bar on the night Whiskey kicked Venus out. They remember that he asked about her, but they can’t remember whether he was there before or after Venus left.”
“Has to be after she left the bar. If Catfish had shown up while Venus was there, she would have taken off right then,” I said.
“I’m sure,” he said. “But he could have pulled up while she was in the parking lot. He might have seen her leave. I’ll talk to Misty and get her statement, then I’ll probably spend the next week talking to everyone who ever graced the front door of the Swamp Bar.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Not the word I’d choose. But I’m glad to have Catfish and Starlight up on charges. I should be able to spring Whiskey late this afternoon.”
“What about the money?”
“Percy had the serial numbers all right, so he should eventually get it back. He might face some tax issues if the IRS gets wind of it. Apparently, it was cash payments for some off-book work. He was saving it for a new bass boat.”
“I bet he’s fit to be tied that the money was in his house the whole time. Did Catfish ever tell you where he found it?”
“No. That idiot is still sticking to his story that it was on the living room floor. I have no idea why he insists on that stupidity. It’s theft whether it was on the floor or hidden in a mattress. But then, nothing he says sounds all that normal. I think he’s more than a little off.”
“You know, since I’ve been dealing with the general public, I am constantly amazed at what people get away with given the lack of logic applied to their criminal enterprises.”
“I talked to my buddy again and he doesn’t think Catfish was running the show. They’re leaning toward thinking he was the muscle, not the brains.”
“That makes a lot more sense.”
“Well, I’ve got to run. I’ve got a mountain of paperwork to do on this and need to follow up on Whiskey’s release. I would tell you I’d see you later, but honestly, I’d rather have a date with my bed so that I’m not falling asleep in my fried turkey tomorrow.”
I laughed. “Get all the sleep you want. I’ll be right here tomorrow. Probably too stuffed to move or maybe even breathe, given the menu, but we can go into a diabetic coma together.”
“That’s what Thanksgiving is all about.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I tossed my cell phone on the table and filled Ida Belle and Gertie in on the conversation.
“You don’t seem satisfied,” Ida Belle said.
“I am. I mean, I guess I am.” I sighed. “I know I should be happy. Whiskey is off the hook and the bad guy wasn’t a local for a change.”
“But?” Ida Belle asked.
“But there’s still things that bother me,” I said. “Like the USB in a zipped pocket. Why didn’t Catfish and Starlight find that? It should have been simple.”
“Like you said before,” Gertie said, “maybe they figured any evidence would be destroyed by submerging the car so they just hauled it all out and let it sink.”
“But wouldn’t they want to know what Venus had on them?” I asked.
“You would think,” Ida Belle agreed. “But if Catfish was the muscle and not the brains, then that might account for the stupidity of the choice.”
“Okay, so if they thought they sank the evidence, why did they come back?” I asked.
“Because the brains of the operation told them to make sure?” Ida Belle said. “We might not ever understand their reasons, especially if we think differently.”
I shook my head. “I know you’re right. I have to stop attributing skill sets to people because I think they ought to have them.”
“Give it some time,” Ida Belle said. “With the CIA, you were dealing with highly skilled and intelligent enemies. Their actions would have been logical and deliberate. You had to assume your target had the same ability as you because that’s what kept you safe.”
Gertie nodded. “When Ida Belle and I came back from Vietnam, it took us a long time to adjust back to civilian life. And this was our hometown. Everything seemed slower, less thought out, less important but more dramatic. But finally, we settled into the knowledge that average people do and think average-people things. That’s all they know.”
“And then there’s the below-average people,” Ida Belle said. “And Sinful has its share of those. Some people just don’t have the sense God gave a goose but they never seem to know it. That’s why so many criminals are caught.”
“Carter says the same thing,” I said. “I guess I just need to wrap my mind around it.”
“While you’re wrapping,” Gertie said, “let’s get to the General Store and pick up those last-minute supplies that Walter is holding for us. Maude Perkins got a glimpse of the condensed milk cans in our bag and there was a small stampede over them. Walter had to threaten them with the fire extinguisher.”
“Over condensed milk?” I asked.
“Thanksgiving is serious business when it comes to food,” Gertie said.
“I’ll drive over,” Ida Belle said, “but if you two could pick up the order, that would be great.”
Gertie and I gave each other a knowing look. Ida Belle had avoided any mention of Walter ever since she’d made her optional marital announcement. Physical avoidance wasn’t surprising, but it made me wonder if she’d made up her mind and was just waiting until after Thanksgiving to say no, not wanting to ruin the holiday. I wondered for the millionth time why she hadn’t said no right away, but I was afraid to broach the subject with her while the answer to Walter was still pending.
The General Store was packed full of people and the half-empty shelves reflected it. Walter stood at the cash register, looking harried and trying to explain to people that he could not produce eggs when he didn’t have them. And no, he did not have chickens to lay them either. There were collective groans when he suggested they drive to the nearest supermarket up the highway. I would have added something about planning better for next year but that probably wasn’t good for business.
As we walked in, I caught sight of Bart Lagasse standing in the frozen meal section. I told Gertie to go get our order and motioned toward Bart. She nodded and started squeezing her way toward the counter. Given that most people were fixing big meals from scratch for the holiday, there was plenty of space at the freezer section. I walked up next to Bart and stood, pretending to inspect a microwavable chicken potpie.
He looked over at me, giving me the up-and-down, which I expected. Then he focused on my face and narrowed his eyes.
“You’re that chick that was running the Swamp Bar last night,” he said.
“That’s me,” I said and stuck out my hand. “Fortune Redding. Thanks for taking Jeff home. I felt bad that he got that drunk on my watch. Especially given what happened.”
Bart shrugged. “Wasn’t your fault. Jeff’s not much of
a drinker. I heard he took sleeping pills thinking it was aspirin. Talk about feeling guilty. I just opened the front door and let him in. I didn’t even think to go inside and get him to bed.”
“His wife was there. You figured she’d handle it.”
“Actually, she wasn’t. I called out but Jeff mumbled something about a meeting. I was hoping he’d sleep off the worst of it before she got home.”
“You couldn’t have known, and taking the sleeping pills was an honest mistake on Jeff’s part. But maybe he’ll reconsider drinking as a way to deal with his issues.”
“I’m guessing he will. I heard they arrested Starlight and some motorcycle guy for Venus’s murder. Does that mean Whiskey’s getting out?”
I nodded. “Hopefully late afternoon.”
“That’s great. Whiskey is a good guy. I mean, he was stupid to hook up with Venus, but I can’t say much about that. She took me for a ride more than once. I wasn’t surprised when it finally caught up with her, but it sucks that her own mother was involved. Although I guess that shouldn’t surprise me either.”
“Why not?”
“Look at the way she took off and left Venus when she was a baby. Even gave up rights. What kind of woman does that? Venus hated her. Always told me when she got old enough, she was going to New Orleans to find her and make her pay.”
“I guess that didn’t work out like she’d planned.”
He shook his head. “First time for everything. Usually Venus came out on top. Look at what she did to Allard.”
“It’s not like he was innocent. He did cheat on his wife.”
“I don’t know about that. His wife’s been complaining about his nonworking parts for years now. More likely, he passed out and Venus told him that’s what happened to get money out of him.”
