Reel of Fortune

by Jana DeLeon

  “Now, Ida Belle,” Walter began, “I appreciate you ladies coming down here in my defense, but it’s not necessary.”

  “I beg to differ,” Ida Belle said. “I think questioning you like a common criminal is unnecessary. I think your own nephew questioning you is a serious conflict of interest. If he’d had a casual conversation with you at the store, like he should have done, we wouldn’t be here. But to insist you come to the sheriff’s department for an official interview is beyond the pale.”

  Walter put his hand up to stop her, which was probably a good idea as I could tell she was just getting started. “I came here voluntarily. Sort of. I didn’t want customers to overhear our conversation.”

  “Then that conversation could have waited until you got home tonight,” Ida Belle said. “Given that Carter is family, no one would have thought twice about him stopping by your house, but hauling you into the sheriff’s department sets a whole different tone. And that tone gets gums flapping in this town.”

  I could tell by the slightly guilty shift in Carter’s expression that Ida Belle had struck a nerve. I didn’t like to think that people would suspect Walter of something just because Carter had questioned him, but I’d also been exposed to enough narrow-minded Sinful thinking to know that some might do exactly that. Walter’s business depended on having the trust of the community. Sure, it was far more convenient to buy right here on Main Street, and Walter didn’t do like a lot of other small grocers and jack up the prices, but the reality was, people could drive a couple miles out of town and do their shopping if they took a mind to it.

  “I understand your point,” Carter said.

  Ida Belle blinked. Clearly, agreement was not the expected response.

  “Then why did you do it this way?” she asked.

  “Because I didn’t have time to wait for him to close the store,” Carter said. “And besides, I needed an official record of what he had to say.”

  Something was up. Carter’s tone, which I’d expected to be both annoyed and belligerent, had a sense of urgency to it that wasn’t in keeping with what we knew about the situation.

  “Someone called the state police,” I said.

  Carter frowned and I knew my statement was a direct hit.

  “Who?” Gertie demanded. “Who would do such a thing?”

  Ida Belle’s shoulders slumped. “You have to ask?”

  “Celia,” I said.

  “But why on earth would she do that?” Gertie said. “When her own niece is one of the chief suspects? I mean, we all know better and I’m sure Celia does as well, but the state police won’t know better. They’ll just go with motive and opportunity and Ally, conveniently, has both.”

  “No one ever said Celia was bright,” Ida Belle said and looked at me. “She probably heard you were thrown in the clink with Ally and thought it was because you were also a suspect. She’d do anything to get you out of Sinful, especially now that you’ve made your residency permanent.”

  “Regardless of Celia’s reasoning,” Carter said, “the state police have informed me that as soon as they have availability, they are sending an officer to ‘supervise’ my work because of the conflicts of interest I have. He’ll be here within the hour.”

  “So you had to talk to Walter before they got here to get him on record or they’d be in the room with you doing it later,” I said. It was a sucky situation for all involved, but it made sense.

  “But why talk to Walter at all?” Ida Belle continued to push, clearly still not satisfied. “He had no beef with Hooch and he was on the dock all morning handing out passes. He was never near the lunches when they were being prepared and wasn’t manning the table where they were handed out.”

  “I supplied the water,” Walter said.

  “But it was in a big tub of ice,” Gertie said. “We pulled our own bottles out. How in the world could you have targeted Hooch when you didn’t control who took what bottle?”

  “Maybe he wasn’t targeting Hooch,” I said. “Maybe he just wanted to kill someone, and that was the easiest way to do it without having his hand directly on the trigger.”

  Ida Belle gave me a look of total dismay.

  “I’m not saying that’s what I think,” I said. “But the state police will have all kinds of theories that have nothing to do with what we know about Walter.”

  “His friends were in that tournament,” Gertie said. “Surely that counts for something.”

  “The first suspect in a murder is the spouse,” I said. “What does that say?”

  “Okay, stop.” Carter rose from his desk. “We all know Walter had nothing to do with Hooch’s death. But he supplied the water so I needed to ascertain chain of ownership, then dispersion. I’ve done that, so Walter is free to leave, as are the rest of you.”

  I could tell by the set of Walter’s jaw that his conversation with Carter was far from over, but I also suspected that the argument we’d walked in on wasn’t about Hooch’s drinking water. The conversation might have started that way but it had gone another direction. One that neither of them wanted to talk about.

  One glance at the suspicious look Ida Belle cast at both of them before we walked out let me know that she wasn’t buying their story, either. As we headed down the hallway, I looked over at Ida Belle, who gave me a barely perceptible shake of her head. It wasn’t until we exited the sheriff’s department that I remembered we were in Walter’s truck.

  “I suppose we could leave the truck here and walk home,” I said. “Now that we’re all properly dressed.”

  Ida Belle shook her head and opened the passenger door. “Take me to Bomber Bruce’s to get my SUV. We’re going to need it later. Then take the truck back to your place. We still need to talk to Walter about Ricky.”

  “And then we can grill him on what really happened in there,” Gertie said, and climbed into the back of the truck.

  Ida Belle looked at her friend. “You noticed something off too?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Gertie asked. “You could cut the tension with a knife. No way that was over water bottles, state police or no.”

  “Something’s definitely up,” I said as I pulled away from downtown. “But it might not have anything to do with Hooch’s murder. Walter and Carter are family. It could be a family matter.”

  “Could be,” Ida Belle agreed. “But I haven’t seen those two look daggers at each other since Carter was a smart-mouthed teen.”

  “He’s completely full of crap on that official questioning thing, too,” Gertie said. “He could have asked Walter about the water right there in the store in front of God and everybody. Probably would have been better for Walter if he had, given that they’re related. Witnesses and all.”

  I nodded. “Carter said ‘you should have told me’ right before we opened the door. Could either of you make out anything they said before that?”

  They both shook their heads.

  “And that sentence could apply to just about anything,” Gertie said.

  “Maybe Walter did have a bad business dealing with Hooch,” I said. “One he kept quiet.”

  Ida Belle shrugged. “I suppose anything is possible, but if Walter attempted business with Hooch, it never even got started. If he’d had work done at his house or at the store, we would have noticed.”

  “What about a camp?” I asked. “Does Walter have one?”

  “Of course,” Ida Belle said. “Most everyone has a camp, but you’ve seen them. They’re not the sort of structures you usually pay to have work done on.”

  Gertie nodded. “Mostly you just buy scrap lumber and keep piecing them back together until a hurricane washes the whole thing into the bayou. Then you start over.”

  “Makes sense,” I said. “Well, I guess we’ll have to wait until Walter comes to pick up his truck.”

  “If he comes,” Gertie said. “He’ll be expecting the third degree. He might send someone else.”

  “It’s pay me now or pay me later,” Ida Belle said. “He kno
ws he can’t avoid us forever.”

  I nodded. Walter wasn’t the type to avoid trouble, but he wasn’t the type to volunteer for it, either. From what I’d seen, he tried to keep a low profile. Not exactly easy in Sinful and when you had a thing for Ida Belle, but he managed to stay off the radar most of the time. It would be interesting to see if he showed or if he sent his lackey Scooter to fetch his vehicle.

  It would be even more interesting to see what he would fess up to if he came himself.

  Chapter Fifteen

  At six fifteen, Scooter pulled into my driveway and Walter climbed out of his truck and gave him a wave as he drove off.

  “Show’s on,” Gertie said, and rubbed her hands together.

  “Maybe we should all move away from the window and not jump him as soon as he walks in the door,” I said.

  Ida Belle waved Gertie away from the window. “Let Fortune answer the door. It’s her house and Walter is sweet on her anyway.”

  I frowned.

  “Like a daughter sweet,” Ida Belle clarified. “He’s really taken a liking to you. If Carter screws things up, Walter might disown him.”

  Gertie nodded. “There’s been talk.”

  “Which you haven’t told me a thing about,” I said. “But it will have to wait until after we quiz Walter. Take a seat, he’s coming up the porch.”

  I hung back in the living room and waited for him to knock, then I took my time walking the three steps to the door. I swung it open and gave Walter a big smile.

  “Come in for a bit,” I said. “Ida Belle taught me how to make sun-brewed sweet tea this afternoon and I have some chocolate peanut butter cookies that Ally made.”

  Walter stepped inside and gave Gertie and Ida Belle a nod.

  “You just want to ply me with sugar in an attempt to get me to talk,” he said.

  “Yep,” I said. “Is it working?”

  “I’ll let you know after I have a cookie,” he said, and smiled.

  I looked over at Ida Belle, who nodded. So far so good. Walter didn’t seem strained or unwilling to talk. Getting information out of him might be easier than we’d anticipated. We headed into the kitchen and I grabbed the container of cookies and some napkins while Gertie served up the tea.

  We waited until Walter had taken his first bite before starting in.

  “Did you catch any flak at the store over Carter questioning you?” Ida Belle asked.

  Walter shook his head. “A lot of people were curious, of course, and they danced around the subject trying to get information out of me. But I don’t think anyone believes I killed Hooch.”

  “Good,” Ida Belle said, and I could tell she was satisfied that he was telling the truth. At least so far. “Then we’ll get right to pumping you for information without dancing. I know you never liked to dance.”

  “Now, that’s not true at all,” Walter said. “I just never wanted to dance with anyone but you, and you never liked to dance.”

  “You two can have this age-old argument later,” I said. “Lay it out for us. What do you know about Hooch’s murder? People aren’t going to be as kind to Ally as they are to you.”

  Walter frowned. “I’m afraid that’s a fact. There’s a lot more going against poor Ally, even though we all know the girl couldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “We have to help her,” Ida Belle said. “You know what happens here if your name isn’t cleared. How many years did Marie catch grief over Harvey going missing? It was a million times worse when the body finally surfaced.”

  Gertie nodded. “Marie was tough and a good bit older when all this came down on her. I don’t think Ally can take it in stride like Marie did.”

  “You think she’ll leave Sinful?” Walter asked, looking worried.

  “If Carter never figures out who killed Hooch, yeah,” Ida Belle said. “She’s already lived in New Orleans before and has some restaurant connections. It wouldn’t be hard for her to find a job or a place.”

  “Crap,” Walter said, and I could tell he was genuinely troubled. “I guess I hadn’t taken my thinking that far. I just figured Carter would find out who did it and the town would move on to the next scandal.”

  “And that’s what we all hope will happen,” I said. “But we’d like to hedge our bets.”

  “You mean you want to butt your nose into police business,” Walter said.

  “So what if we do?” Ida Belle said. “You got a problem with us helping out a friend?”

  Walter held up his hands. “No problem here. Heck, I’ve helped you more than once with your investigative shenanigans. And you know how fond I am of Ally. If there’s a way to get this cleared up and soon, I’m all for it.”

  “Good,” I said. “Then tell us everything you know.”

  “I’m afraid there’s not a whole lot to tell,” Walter said. “I furnished the water but I dropped it off at the dock still in the cases. Scooter brought the tubs and the ice and put all that together, but he was right there in the open with a ton of people milling around.”

  “The water doesn’t sound like a good distribution method,” I said. “I think someone would have noticed if Scooter had removed caps and poured something in one of the bottles.”

  Walter put his hands in the air. “And that’s exactly what I told Carter. I know he still has to question the boy, but I hope he doesn’t get him riled up. Last time Carter asked Scooter questions, he bungled two oil changes—forgot to put the plugs back in.”

  “Why does Carter make him so nervous?” I asked.

  “It’s not Carter, per se,” Walter said. “It’s cops, in general. Scooter’s dad died in prison. Scooter still believes he was framed and that the cops didn’t do their job.”

  “Any chance of that?” I asked.

  “No way.”

  “Not a chance in hell.”

  “He was guilty as sin.”

  They all spoke at once.

  “Well, don’t just sit there all silent,” I said. “Tell me what you think.”

  Walter shook his head. “Scooter’s dad was bad news from the crib. The only person who refused to believe it was Scooter. The truth is, he was caught on video robbing a convenience store and he shot the cashier. The guy lived, but I’m pretty sure getting shot shouldn’t fall in the job description of a minimum-wage position.”

  “Poor Scooter,” I said. It was strange how much of an effect our parents could have on our lives, even when they were gone. Even when they weren’t all that great human beings. Which reminded me of the first reason we’d wanted to question Walter. “Hey, we heard Hooch’s ex and his son showed up in your store today.”

  Walter nodded. “Almost didn’t recognize Margarita. Bleached her hair blond and she’s had a bit of work.”

  “Plastic surgery?” Gertie shook her head. “She always was a bit vain.”

  “Who are you kidding?” Ida Belle said. “If you could find a doctor who would operate on prehistoric creatures, you’d be on the table having everything from top to bottom lifted, stretched, or sucked smaller.”

  “I was thinking of something noninvasive, like Botox,” Gertie said. “Just to lift my face a little.”

  “I’m going to lend you a physics book,” Ida Belle said. “You can read up on these two concepts called gravity and time.”

  “I think you look just lovely,” Walter said to Gertie. “I don’t know why you’d want to mess with perfection.”

  Gertie stuck out her tongue at Ida Belle, who rolled her eyes.

  “Anyway,” I said. “Margarita had some work done and you almost didn’t recognize her. That sounds like more than a bit. What was different?”

  “Her face was stretched tight,” Walter said, “like those older actresses you see whose faces don’t move anymore when they smile.”

  “They all look like the Joker,” Ida Belle said.

  “And her lips were all puffed up like she’d been stung by a bee,” Walter continued. “And uh, the other thing women do.” He flushed a pretty shade of pink.
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  “Breast lift?” I asked.

  “I don’t know about any lifting but they were a sight bigger. I’m not the kind of man who goes around looking at women’s chests, mind you, but she was wearing a top that could have gotten her arrested in a place like Sinful. It was hard not to notice.”

  “Margarita never had any chest to speak of,” Gertie said. “Used to stuff her bra with toilet paper.”

  “Good Lord,” Walter mumbled and rummaged through the cookie container.

  “What?” Gertie said when Ida Belle stared at her. “I’m just backing the man up. She pulled some out at church one day when Junior sneezed. If she didn’t want everyone knowing, then she should have carried tissue in her purse like everyone else.”

  Ida Belle shook her head and looked at Walter. “What did she say?”

  “We exchanged the usual greetings and she asked about Carter and Emmaline. I said I was sorry about Hooch’s death and asked if there was anything I could do. She said I could pray he had some life insurance so they could afford to bury him.”

  “Sounds like Margarita,” Gertie said.

  “Practical?” I asked.

  “I was going with cold,” Gertie said, “but in this situation, I can see how practicality would apply.”

  “There was certainly no love lost between Margarita and Hooch,” Walter said. “Not by the time she left. And that’s all on him. Margarita was a nice enough girl, but she was also naive. She should never have married Hooch.”

  Ida Belle nodded. “I think once she got a few years behind her, she realized that. What about Junior?”

  “Good-looking boy,” Walter said. “Must have taken after Margarita’s family because he sure don’t look like Hooch’s. About six feet tall and a solid build. Said he works construction, so I guess he might have gotten that gene from his father. He had the tan and the muscles for it, anyway. He didn’t say much, but then, what could we expect him to say? He had to drop everything to come to Sinful to bury a man he didn’t know by that man’s deliberate choice.”