by Jana DeLeon
“With all this holiday flurry, I haven’t seen you in forever,” she said. “I didn’t figure you for the caroling type, but I’m glad to see you here.”
“Gertie and Ida Belle made me come,” I explained.
“The potential for baked goods and whiskey eggnog are keeping her here,” Gertie said.
Emmaline laughed. “Don’t let on you know about the whiskey part or none of us Baptists will be able to drink the eggnog. We’ve been pretending ignorance for decades.”
“My lips are sealed,” I said. “Until I lift a cup of eggnog to them.”
“Smart lady,” Emmaline said. “I knew there was a reason I liked you. In addition, of course, to capturing my son’s attention. I was worried that he’d follow in Walter’s footsteps.”
“Can’t say that anymore,” I said. “Not with the upcoming nuptials.”
She leaned in close to me and whispered, “I’ll believe it when I see them walk down the aisle.”
I nodded. I didn’t think Ida Belle would toy with Walter that way. She wasn’t cruel and she was definitely a woman who knew her own mind. But her getting married still seemed a bit surreal. And like Emmaline, I wanted to see it happen before I was ready to invest in it a hundred percent. Right now, it still seemed like a script for a Hollywood movie.
Emmaline sighed. “Here comes everyone’s favorite person.”
I looked over and saw Celia marching toward us like a military general and the expression on her face just as pleasant.
“I should have known you three wouldn’t have the decency to sit this out,” she said.
“Why would we?” Gertie asked. “We haven’t done anything wrong. If we had, Carter would have invited us to sit it out in jail.”
“Please,” Celia said. “As long as he’s involved with this hussy, that will never happen.”
“That’s hardly a Christian attitude at a religious celebration,” Emmaline said. “I expect better of Sinful residents. Even you.”
Celia’s eyes widened and I heard some chuckling around us. I didn’t even bother to hold in my grin. Neither did Ida Belle and Gertie. Celia glared at all of us, then stomped off. I could hear her mumbling as she went.
“Someone’s getting coal in her stocking,” I said.
“The stocking will be happier with coal in it than Celia’s leg,” Gertie said.
Ida Belle grinned. “Let’s load up and I’ll get ready with the song list. I think we’ll start with ‘Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.’ Celia hates that one. Argues to have it removed from the list every year. In fact, we might sing it at every darned house.”
“That’s the Christmas spirit,” Emmaline said, and smiled.
As people started loading onto the trailer, Carter pulled up behind us in his truck, Deputy Breaux in the passenger seat. I strolled over and he rolled down his window.
“You spying on me?” I asked.
“That’s actually not far from the truth,” he said. “Deputy Breaux and I are damage control. Just in case there’s another holiday mishap.”
“Well, we already killed Santa,” I said. “Is deer hunting season still open? Could be a bad omen for Rudolph.”
“Ha,” Carter said. “We’re worried more about the citizens than the deer.”
Deputy Breaux held up a first aid kit and a fire extinguisher.
I nodded. “In any other place, I might accuse you of being over-the-top, but in Sinful it makes sense.”
Carter studied me for a moment. “So you really plan on singing? Because I know you lip-synch in church.”
I shrugged. “I’m just here due to promises of home-baked goodies and whiskey-laced eggnog.”
“Completely valid,” Carter said. “Maybe while you’re there, you can keep Gertie out of trouble.”
“You’re asking me for a Christmas miracle?” I asked.
Deputy Breaux snorted.
Ida Belle yelled for me as they were about to leave and I gave Carter a grin and hurried to jump on the trailer. I grabbed a seat on a hay bale in between Gertie and Emmaline and we were off.
“How do they know which houses to stop at?” I asked as we made our way into the neighborhood.
“There’s a sign-up sheet at the General Store,” Emmaline said.
“That’s cool,” I said. “So anyone can just sign up and get some singing but it’s not forced on anyone.”
Emmaline laughed. “Only you would consider Christmas caroling forced if it wasn’t asked for. You were really in the city too long.”
“The people who don’t sign up just don’t want to bake anything to give to the carolers,” Gertie said. “Which is stupid, because you can improvise.”
Emmaline nodded. “The year Ida Belle had a broken foot and couldn’t come with us, she handed out ammunition. Deer season was still open, so it was highly appreciated.”
“I’ll keep that in mind if I’m ever injured at Christmas and craving a cartload of people, including Celia, to stop at my house and sing.”
Emmaline patted my arm. “I have a feeling you’d do just fine with a beer and the television.”
We stopped at our first house and I went through the motions of singing with the group. Celia frowned the entire time we were singing the Grandma killed by a reindeer song, which almost made the entire thing worth it. Then the homeowner, a nice elderly lady, handed us all small bags with cookies in them that smelled like heaven. No whiskey eggnog at this house. She was Baptist. Couldn’t be caught handing out banned materials.
The next house was a Catholic couple and the eggnog had apparently been in full swing for a while before we got there. The couple were swaying back and forth as we sang, but since they weren’t in time with the music, I had a feeling it wasn’t voluntary. The husband presented everyone with cups of eggnog when we were done. The whiskey was so strong I probably could have taken rust off a car bumper with it. But I noticed it didn’t stop everyone from downing it, the Baptists all pretending it wasn’t laced. The wife handed out tiny loaves of banana nut bread to everyone, except Celia, whom she gave a blueberry pie.
“One of Celia’s crew,” Gertie whispered. “She doesn’t participate as much. Claims it’s her arthritis but everyone knows she’s on the eggnog on a regular basis…without the eggnog.”
“If you have to be friendly with Celia to rank a pie, I’ll stick to banana nut bread,” I said.
“You’re not settling,” Gertie said. “All the drinking hasn’t affected her baking in the least.”
“I have a feeling that statement applies to more than one Sinful resident,” I said. “So who’s up next? I’m really enjoying this goodie collection. It’s like trick-or-treating for adults, but better—no costumes.”
“I have this sexy elf costume—” Gertie began.
“No.” Ida Belle cut her off. “There’s not enough laced eggnog in Sinful for you to wear that outfit in public.”
The trailer slowed and I glanced up and realized we were close to my house. Too close. In fact, we were stopping in front of my next-door neighbor’s house—the undoubtedly insane Ronald Franklin Jr.
“Are you kidding me?” I grumbled. “He’s more likely to give us all poison than a treat. He hates people.”
“He hates you,” Gertie said. “He tolerates most everyone else.”
“He doesn’t even go to church,” I argued. “He doesn’t have a single Christmas decoration anywhere. I’m pretty sure he worships at the altar of crazy.”
“Oh, you’re not wrong about that one,” Emmaline said. “Ronald is an evolutionist. He believes we all came from fish. So he signs up every year so he can try to persuade us to his side.”
I sighed. “Of course he does.”
The door to his house opened and Ronald came out. At least, I was pretty sure it was Ronald. He was wearing a fish costume, complete with a long tail. I said a quick thanks that this outfit covered everything important and didn’t include high heels. Ronald was a natural disaster when breathing, but when wearing heels, h
e took things up several notches.
“How come he gets to wear a costume?” Gertie asked.
“Because he’s an idiot,” Ida Belle said as she motioned for everyone to get off the trailer.
“I didn’t realize intelligence was a factor in suitable dress,” Gertie said.
“Apparently it is for caroling,” I said, and hopped down.
We stood in rows in front of Ronald, and Ida Belle prompted us to start singing. As soon as we broke into song, Ronald started shouting, telling us all about the ‘real’ creation of humans starting with us swimming in the sea. His voice grated like ten women whining in sync and to make matters worse, he insisted on swiveling his hips as he talked in order to make the fish tail flick around like he was swimming.
I didn’t even bother with the lip-synching routine for this one. Ronald was probably handing out fish at the end of all this and I didn’t think it was a good pairing with my banana nut bread. I glanced over at Carter and Deputy Breaux to see what they thought about it all. Apparently, they’d been expecting something stupid because Carter was reading a magazine and Deputy Breaux appeared to be making a fishing lure. Maybe he could hook Ronald and throw him in the clink.
I looked back toward Ronald and caught movement behind him on the stretch of lawn between his house and mine. The lighting between the houses was practically nil and whatever it was wasn’t much taller than the grass, meaning I couldn’t figure out what it was. I had locked Merlin inside before leaving so it wasn’t him. I hoped he didn’t have a friend lurking around because if another cat moved in, I’d have to put the house up for sale.
Then the thing I saw started coming directly toward us, and fast, but stayed in the shaded area between the two houses. It was maybe thirty feet away from Ronald when it moved into a lighted area and I got my first good look at exactly what had zeroed in on my crazy neighbor. I pulled my pistol from my waistband and shoved my way through the front line of carolers.
“Gator!” I yelled, and leveled my pistol for a shot. But before I could take aim, the gator ran directly behind Ronald and I lost line of sight. I yelled at Ronald to shut up and run for the trailer, but no way was he taking orders from me. The other carolers either believed me or had caught sight of the beast because I heard scrambling behind me as they fled. Truck doors slammed and Carter yelled at Deputy Breaux as I moved to the side, hoping to get in a shot.
I didn’t make it.
The gator grabbed the end of Ronald’s wiggling fish tail and flung him onto the ground. Ronald screamed and started thrashing around, which only made him look like a flopping fish in distress. The gator still had Ronald’s tail in his mouth, shaking it around like a dishrag and preventing me from shooting since I wasn’t sure where the suit ended and Ronald’s feet began. If I shot off his leg, no way we could continue to live next door to each other. Carter and Deputy Breaux moved up beside me, both with guns drawn, and that’s when I heard running behind me.
Gertie ran right past us and toward the raging gator.
“Don’t shoot!” she yelled. “It’s Godzilla!”
Chapter Eighteen
I heard Carter curse and he shouted for Gertie to get out of the way. I knew there was no way Gertie was going to allow anyone to get off a shot at that gator, even if it meant flinging herself over him to defend him from the bullet. The only way to solve this was with food. I sprinted for the trailer and jumped over the side, sliding in the hay before stopping in front of Celia. I reached down and grabbed the blueberry pie but before I could make off with it, Celia grasped the other side.
“You’re not taking my pie!” she shouted. “Thief! Thief!”
“Either you give that pie to the gator or he eats Ronald,” I said. “I am personally up for the second option, but it’s probably not the right thing to do. Especially at Christmas.”
Ida Belle took the more direct approach and reached over to whack Celia on the wrists, causing her to let go of the pie. I whirled around and sprinted for the gator. Gertie was standing behind him, yelling for him to stop. I yanked the pie out of the box and tossed it to her. She moved close enough for Godzilla to catch sight of the baked goody. It must have looked enough like one of Gertie’s casseroles to fool the gator, because he stopped shaking Ronald. For a couple seconds, he appeared to be considering his options—a treat from the person who used to feed him awesome things versus a giant fish.
I understood his dilemma. Ronald would be good eating for weeks. The baked goods, while better tasting, wouldn’t last nearly as long. But ultimately, Gertie’s cooking must have won out because the gator let go of Ronald’s fish tail and headed off after Gertie, who hurried toward the bayou. Carter and I started off behind her, ready to shoot if Godzilla got too close and showed any signs of attacking. I knew Gertie trusted the prehistoric monster, but I only expected wild animals to be themselves.
Gertie was practically sprinting for bayou and when she got close, she flung the pie to the edge of the water. Godzilla ran past and tilted his head to the side, as if to say thanks, then snagged the pie and disappeared into the water. Carter and I put our guns away and we all headed back for the street.
And that’s when the yelling began.
The glow of light coming from the trailer was too large to be the battery-operated candles we were supposed to be holding when we sang. And the streetlights barely produced any light at all.
The trailer was on fire.
We took off running and got there in time to see Deputy Breaux dash to the trailer with the fire extinguisher. Everyone was bailing off the sides as he took aim and let the foam fly.
Just as Celia was climbing over the side.
The foam hit her right in the face and she screamed, then whirled around, clutching her eyes. With all the whirling, the lack of ability to see, and her crap balance, she hit the curb and pitched forward right into Deputy Breaux, sending them both tumbling. As he fell, Deputy Breaux still had his hand on the trigger and the foam went straight up in the air and then rained down on everyone within a ten-foot radius.
I heard screaming from the ground but wasn’t sure if it was Celia or Deputy Breaux, who had Celia’s chest planted firmly across his face. Deputy Breaux’s situation was unfortunate but not the biggest emergency, so Carter grabbed the fire extinguisher from him and attacked the rest of the fire. I didn’t want to touch Celia, but my sympathy for Deputy Breaux outweighed my discomfort.
I grabbed her around the waist and hauled her off the deputy, then dropped her on the ground next to him. Celia flopped around to get onto her back, then sat up and glared.
“You did that on purpose,” she said.
“You’re not exactly a lightweight,” I said. “I’m not throwing out my back to lift you all the way up.”
“How did that fire start?” Carter asked, holding the empty fire extinguisher. “Was someone smoking?”
“Celia was using a real candle,” Emmaline said.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Carter exploded. He whirled around to glare at Celia. “And you think Gertie is a problem? Who is stupid enough to have a lit flame in a trailer full of hay? You are officially the dumbest person in the state. I ought to arrest you for attempted murder just to make people happy and your life as miserable as you make everyone else’s.”
“You can’t talk to me that way,” Celia said.
“Yes, he can.” Sheriff Lee’s voice sounded behind us and I turned to see him on his horse, trotting across the lawn. “In fact, since I have insomnia, I’m going to go ahead and take Carter’s recommendation. Deputy Breaux, arrest that woman for disturbing the peace. We’ll both spend the night in jail. Of course, I’ll be playing video poker and drinking beer in a nice office chair, but it seems only fair since I didn’t ruin Christmas caroling.”
Deputy Breaux hopped up and looked from Sheriff Lee to Carter.
“You heard the boss,” Carter said, and I could tell he was struggling not to laugh. “Handcuff her and take her in for the sheriff. Then c
ome back to pick me up. It’s going to take a bit to sort out this trailer mess.”
“Help! I can’t get up. My arms are going to sleep.”
I shook my head. We’d completely forgotten Ronald, who was still laid out, facedown on the lawn.
Carter looked over at him in disgust. “I think this is the part of your story where you sprout legs and walk into your house.”
“Evolution takes time!” Ronald shouted. “I can’t just evolve because it’s convenient.”
“I know,” Carter said. “The whole town has been waiting for you to evolve into a normal person for decades now.”
Ida Belle pulled out her knife, which was about the length of Ronald’s leg, and headed his way. He took one look at the gleaming metal and started thrashing about again.
“She’s going to fillet me!” he yelled.
“Darn right I am,” Ida Belle said, and grabbed the tail of his costume. She stuck her giant knife in and slit the suit all the way up to his neck until it was completely open.
Exposing every square inch of his bare butt.
“If he stands up and that suit falls off, I’m pressing charges,” Gertie said.
Carter stomped over and yanked Ronald up from the ground, making sure he was facing his house. “Get to walking, and if I see so much as a backward glance, I swear I’ll shoot you.”
“Sinful should pass a law that requires you to wear undergarments when you leave your house,” I said.
“It already has,” Gertie said. “If you have company, you’re even supposed to wear them when you shower. In case an emergency exit is required.”
“What do you know?” I said. “Ole Ronald is breaking the law. Maybe he should sit in a cell next to Celia.”
Deputy Breaux, who had managed to get Celia in cuffs, paled.
“Please, I’m begging you,” he said.
Ronald heard my suggestion and picked up the pace, now half running, half skipping, clutching the remnants of his fish costume as he went. His white butt almost glowed in the porch light as he scuttled up the stairs and into his house.
