by Jana DeLeon
Then the zebra raised its head. My neighbor, Ronald, was hunched in the cage on all fours and wearing what looked to be a white-and-black-striped onesie. He caught sight of me and started up with the yelling again.
“Get me out of here, you barbarian!”
I hurried over to the cage, completely confused. With every step I took, I tried to come up with a logical reason for the scene in front of me, but even an illogical reason wouldn’t form.
“What are you doing in there?” I asked as I stepped up next to him.
“I’m getting a back cramp! Open the door and get me out.”
I went over to the door that had apparently tripped when he’d entered the cage and tried to lift it, but it wouldn’t move. I checked the perimeter, looking for a lever or release, but couldn’t locate one.
“What the hell are you waiting for?” Ronald yelled, his face so red, I thought he’d have a heart attack.
“I don’t know how to open it. Give me a minute. I need to call someone.”
“I don’t have a minute.” He sank down onto his elbows and started punching the display on his cell phone.
“I don’t think this is the sort of thing you call the police about,” I said, trying to save Carter the hassle of another round with Ronald the Idiot. I had no idea why he was in the alligator cage, but there was no possible way he had a good reason.
“I’ve already called the police and everyone else,” Ronald said. “Now I’m calling my attorney.”
“Your attorney knows how to open the cage?”
“No. But he does know how to file a lawsuit. I’m going to sue you and that insane Gertie Hebert. Everyone thinks the two of you are ruining this town.”
“Anyone who’s seen how you dress probably has different ideas.”
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket to dial Ida Belle, hoping I could get the cage open and Ronald out of my yard before Carter and “everyone else” showed up. I was just about to dial when I heard voices behind me. I turned around to see Carter, a fireman, a paramedic, and Father Michael hurrying across my lawn. Good Lord, Ronald hadn’t been joking.
They all stepped up to the cage, looked down at Ronald, who hadn’t stopped complaining since he’d set eyes on them, then looked over at me, as if I had a good explanation for this.
“I got nothing,” I said. “I came out here and found him this way.”
“I think it’s against the law to trap wild animals on your property,” the paramedic said, clearly trying not to laugh.
“Actually,” the fireman said, “you have the right to trap and relocate if the animal is a public nuisance.”
“He’s definitely that,” I said.
Ronald’s face turned even darker red. “Nuisance? This woman and those two old bats she cavorts with are the public nuisance. Now get me out of here!”
“Why didn’t you let him out?” Carter asked.
“I tried but I don’t know how to open it.”
Carter shook his head and went to the end of the cage and lifted some latch on the bottom that had been hidden in the grass, then swung the door open. Ronald scrambled out and the paramedic reached down to help him to his feet.
“I want her arrested,” Ronald said to Carter. “She’s not getting away with it this time.”
“Getting away with what?” I asked. “Once again, you’re on my property. Something you still haven’t explained.”
“I was chasing my ferret,” Ronald said.
I looked at the other men. “That sounds dirty. Is it dirty?”
Carter glanced at Father Michael, who shrugged.
“I have a pet ferret,” Ronald said. “He got out and I found him in this cage eating something that will probably give him digestive issues. I crawled in to get him out and the door closed. Now will you arrest this woman?”
“For what?” I asked. “You and your ferret were trespassing. I want this man arrested for letting his ferret eat my bait. Not that I believe that story for a minute.”
“I would never lie,” Ronald said. “Unlike some people.”
“Then produce the ferret,” I said. “Or did he run away from you again? No one would blame him, mind you.”
“Um.” The paramedic pointed to Ronald’s rear. “Do you need medical attention?”
I peered around and saw Ronald’s backside moving, then suddenly, a gray-and-white head pushed its way out of the trapdoor on the onesie, took one look at us, and bolted. Ronald emitted a strangled cry and took off after the escaping creature.
“Well, gentlemen, now that the ferret has appeared, it looks like the show is over,” Carter said.
The paramedic grinned. “I’ll be telling this one for weeks.”
The fireman looked over at Father Michael. “Why did he call you?”
“He said he might die and needed last rites,” Father Michael said.
“And you believed him?” I asked.
Father Michael shrugged. “Of course not, but I figured whatever was going on would be more interesting than the christening I was preparing for.”
“Tell us the truth,” I said. “Ronald is a serial killer, right? One of those creepy guys who has bodies buried in his basement? I know that confessions are confidential but I live next door, so I feel I have a right to know.”
I didn’t figure he’d tell me, but I’d always wondered about what interesting things priests heard about during confessions. Now, there was a reality show if anyone could get some priests to do it. So much more interesting than that crap Gertie watched.
“I think you’re safe, Ms. Morrow,” Father Michael said. “Mr. Franklin is a bit odd, but essentially harmless.”
“Tell that to the ferret he had trapped in his pants,” I said.
The paramedic laughed, and he and the fireman set off across the lawn. Father Michael gave us a nod, then followed behind them. Carter looked at me and shook his head.
“What?” I asked. “This one is totally not on me. Ronald and his ferret are on the hook for this one. You should start billing him for abuse of the town’s resources.”
“I’m going to take that under consideration. Do you have more bait?”
“I think Gertie left some chicken necks.”
“Then let me get this set back up.”
“Cool. Maybe next time I’ll catch something more dangerous than Ronald and his ferret.”
“Never underestimate a man who’s willing to wear a onesie in public.”
I shook my head. “There are so many things in this town that I can never unsee.”
Carter sobered. “Hopefully, you’ll be around long enough for them to wear off. Have you heard anything?”
“Yeah. I wanted to go over what I know with you tonight.”
“So it’s set?”
“Not yet, but it’s in motion.”
He blew out a breath. “This is really happening, isn’t it?”
I nodded.
He looked at me several seconds without speaking, then finally asked, “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. “I wish I were.”
Chapter Fourteen
It was close to midnight when I left the house and hopped into Ida Belle’s SUV. I was somewhat surprised to see Gertie in the back seat.
“How’s your hearing?” I asked, keeping my voice level.
“Back to normal,” Gertie said. “I’m still miffed that Carter has my gun, though. He’s refusing to return it until he closes the file on his investigation. What investigation? If anyone needs to be investigated, it’s the Lowery brothers for shooting at people.”
“We were in their house,” Ida Belle said. “I’ve shot at people for less.” She looked over at me. “I heard you caught a zebra and a ferret in the gator trap.”
I laughed. “It was a busy afternoon.”
“Everyone’s been talking about it,” Gertie said. “Was Ronald really wearing a zebra-striped onesie?”
“Like you’re a
lways telling me,” I said, “I couldn’t make that up.”
Ida Belle laughed. “My favorite part is when the ferret crawled out of his butt.”
“Do you blame him?” Gertie said. “That poor animal was probably trying to escape, then got distracted by some good dinner and went right back into captivity. I can’t think of any place worse to live than Ronald’s pants.”
“Do people know about him?” I asked. “I mean, no one appeared to be fazed by the situation but I didn’t know if that was because everyone knows Ronald is driving the crazy train or because it’s Sinful and nothing surprises anyone anymore.”
“Probably a bit of both,” Ida Belle said. “We’ve always known Ronald was eccentric. Marge saw a couple of things that were unique, even by Sinful standards, but I think he’s managed to keep the worst of his oddities hidden.”
“Until now,” Gertie said, and giggled. “Fortune has made him so mad, he’s marching around with all his crazy on display.”
“How come everything is always my fault?” I asked.
“Convenient scapegoat,” Ida Belle said. “I heard through the Sinful Ladies grapevine that Celia Arceneaux is trying to get Father Michael to give evidence that you’ve driven Ronald to a state of mental breakdown and that living next door to you is a life-threatening matter.”
“I did want to shoot him the other day when he suggested I use Merlin for gator food,” I said. “But I fail to see what getting a priest to lie about me would accomplish. Father Michael didn’t appear even remotely fazed by anything he saw. I’m guessing it didn’t measure up to what he’s heard in confession.”
“Not to mention, I have no idea what she hopes to accomplish,” Gertie said.
“She thinks public pressure could force Fortune to move,” Ida Belle contended.
Gertie nodded. “She’s grasping at straws.”
“That’s pretty much all she has left,” I pointed out.
“That’s all she’s ever had,” Ida Belle corrected, “but it hasn’t stopped her from waging a personal war for three decades now, and it’s not likely to deter her in the future.”
“Well, she better ramp up her game,” I said, “because when I’m officially a free agent, things are only going to get worse for her.”
“I’m sure she’s banking on you leaving soon since the summer is almost over,” Gertie said. “Boy, is she in for a rude awakening when she finds out you’re staying. You are staying, right? You haven’t changed your mind?”
The anxiety in her voice when she asked those questions made my heart tug a little. I’d never had people who cared about me this way. Who deliberately sought out my company and didn’t want it to end. It was really nice and something I never thought I’d be happy about.
“I haven’t changed my mind,” I said. “I mean, there’s a ton of things I have to figure out, but I’m not leaving unless I don’t have any other options.”
“Did you tell Carter about the plan?” Ida Belle asked.
I nodded. “We had dinner tonight and I filled him in. At least, on the things I could fill him in on.”
“He didn’t ask about the warehouse?” Ida Belle asked.
“No. I’m sure he assumes it’s something the CIA came up with. He was momentarily miffed that I didn’t ask him to check out the location with us this morning, but we both know he had things to handle here.”
“And you didn’t want him thinking too hard about who owned the properties,” Ida Belle said.
“There’s that too,” I agreed.
“Have you talked to Big and Little?” Gertie asked.
“Yeah. I talked to them before I called Harrison and Morrow with the location and again afterward, when it was a go. They’re on standby to deliver the tip just as soon as I give them the green light. They also know I plan to use the other locations to try to ferret out the mole. The cameras should be here tomorrow, and Mannie will get them installed right away.”
“I really like him,” Gertie said. “If I were ten years younger, I’d totally take a run at him.”
“If you were ten years younger, you’d still be old enough to be his grandmother,” Ida Belle said.
“I could have handled him,” Gertie said.
“You couldn’t have handled that man when you were twenty,” Ida Belle said. “Lara Croft couldn’t handle that man.”
“I bet Fortune could handle him,” Gertie said.
“Fortune might be able to,” Ida Belle agreed, “but she’s already got enough man to drive her crazy. No one needs more than that.”
“I wonder if Little is single,” Gertie mused. “He looks nice in a suit and would probably be more manageable.”
“Good Lord, woman, would you give it a rest?” Ida Belle said. “You’re not going to start dating mobsters.”
“You know,” I said, “now that you mention it, I don’t know anything about their personal lives. I’ve never heard them talk about wives or girlfriends, and they don’t have anything personal on display in their office. But men in their line of work usually keep that sort of thing very private.”
“That’s true,” Gertie said. “For all we know, Mannie could be married, have six kids, and host a barbecue every Sunday.”
“If Mannie has six kids,” Ida Belle said, “they are probably capable of staging a hostile takeover of a small country.”
“Fine,” Gertie said, “they’re off the table as potential dating material, but there’s a serious shortage of eligible men in Sinful. When this is over, you have to promise me we’re going to take that vacation we keep talking about. I’m overdue for a little romance.”
“Looks like we’ll be headed to Florida then,” Ida Belle said.
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“Florida is God’s Waiting Room,” Ida Belle said. “Gertie will have a buffet to choose from.”
Ida Belle pulled her SUV to the curb and pointed at a house behind us. “The one with the lawn that needs mowing is Marco’s. Should I park down the street so no one can ID my vehicle if we have to get away fast?”
“If we have to get away fast,” Gertie said, “I doubt anyone will be able to see your vehicle at warp speed.”
“She has a point,” I said. “And we stand a better chance at driving away than running if things go south.” I rolled my eyes toward the back seat.
Ida Belle put the SUV in gear. “You’re probably right. Besides, the lighting on this street is crap anyway. Not like anyone can see much. How about I just pull up to the curb in front of the cans, we do our search, and we get the heck out of here?”
“Sounds good to me,” I said.
Ida Belle rounded the block and pulled up in front of Marco’s house, positioning her SUV in front of the cans. “I was rather hoping he only had one can. He lives alone. How much trash can one man produce?”
“He probably doesn’t put it out until everything is overflowing,” Gertie said. “Typical male.”
As I was guilty of the same thing, I kept silent and hoped the trash wasn’t too old and didn’t contain chicken parts. Aged chicken in Louisiana summer heat was a bad deal all the way around. The chicken necks in the gator trap were already starting to reek and they had only been there one evening. I pulled headlamps and latex gloves from my pocket and handed everyone their set, then we climbed out of the SUV and headed over to the trash cans. I opened the lid on the first one and blanched.
“Yuck,” Gertie said. “Stale beer.”
“Smells like Bourbon Street on a Monday morning,” Ida Belle said.
“It’s all bagged at least,” I said as I started pulling the bags out of the can. “Everyone take one and let’s get this over with.”
As soon as we opened the bags, I wished I had brought gas masks. Marge had one in her fishing tackle. When I’d first seen it, I wondered why it was stored there rather than in her super-secret closet with all her other cool stuff. But then I’d had a trip to the best fishing place in Sinful, an island named Number Two because of its stench,
and everything made sense. I didn’t plan on doing much fishing and definitely not on Number Two, but if I was going to stick around Sinful, I might need to order a couple more masks. There were all sorts of smelly things one could accidentally get into, and my chance of getting into them with Ida Belle and Gertie was probably high.
I held my breath and plowed through milk cartons, pizza boxes, and a pile of fish heads until I reached the bottom, then I drew in a breath from my mouth. “Nothing in this one.”
“Clear here as well,” Ida Belle said, and Gertie nodded.
We tied up the bags and put them back in the can, then moved on to can number two. This one had three bags as well, so I divvied up the fun and we started the stinky search all over again. I had made it about halfway through when Gertie perked up.
“I have something here,” she said. “It’s bacon boxes!”
Either excitement got the best of her, or her hearing still wasn’t quite up to par, but she’d uttered that last phrase just a little too loudly. I froze and a couple seconds later, lights flipped on in Marco’s house and I heard yelling inside and then, even more troubling, barking.
“Does Marco have a dog?”
“Two,” Gertie said. “Big ones.”
“Retreat!” I yelled and ran for the SUV. I heard footsteps behind me and as I jumped into the passenger’s seat, turned and saw Gertie heft her bag of garbage over the back seat and into the rear of Ida Belle’s SUV. I thought Ida Belle was going to take the time to shoot her on the spot or at the least, drive off and leave her there. Then the front door to the house opened and two pit bulls ran straight at the SUV. Gertie jumped in and slammed her door and Ida Belle took off down the street.
I lowered the window and a wave of humid, hot, August Louisiana air hit my face. Ida Belle managed to make it around the end of the block before cursing Gertie nine ways to Sunday.
“You threw bachelor garbage in my vehicle,” Ida Belle ranted. “It smells like a sewer. What the hell were you thinking?”
“We couldn’t leave without the evidence,” Gertie said. “You should be thanking me. We caught him red-handed.”
“You can hold your breath waiting for that thanks,” Ida Belle said.
