by Jana DeLeon
I grinned. “Yes. I’m sure he’d really enjoy the speculation and farcical evidence you have on me. Why don’t you give him a call? I’ll let him know that he’ll be hearing from you. In the meantime, enjoy your stay in Sinful.”
I headed out of the room, leaving Officer Davies sputtering behind me. I wanted to tell Carter what happened, but I figured stopping to chat on my way out probably wasn’t the best plan for either of us. Besides, I figured he’d probably been listening to the whole thing even though technically, he wasn’t supposed to.
I gave Gavin a nod as I headed out. “Tell Carter to call me when he frees up.”
“They’re real buttholes,” Gavin whispered. “All rude and stuff.”
“Well, they’re probably not going to be any nicer now that they’ve talked to me.”
He grinned. “You’re kinda cool. I mean, in a totally would-get-a-dude-into-trouble sort of way.”
“That’s my motto.”
Chapter Seven
I stepped outside the sheriff’s department and saw Ida Belle and Gertie waving at me from the front of the General Store. I made a quick turn and headed their direction.
“We’ve been lurking out here since we left,” Gertie said. “Just in case there was a ruckus in need of our assistance.”
“God forbid a ruckus occur in this town that we weren’t a part of,” Ida Belle said and grinned.
“Let’s head inside,” Gertie said. “Walter is practically bouncing off the walls waiting to hear something, and Ida Belle and I aren’t doing any better. He was here doing inventory when he saw you go into the sheriff’s department and called to see what was going on. We’ve been here waiting to nab you when you got paroled.”
We stepped inside and locked the door behind us. Gertie rubbed her arms and gave a little shake. “It’s chilly out there.”
“I told you a cold front was moving in this morning,” Ida Belle said as we walked. “Why didn’t you dress appropriately?”
“It was eighty degrees when I left my house,” Gertie said. “This is appropriate for eighty degrees. I’m sorry I forgot to get my parka out of storage. Oh wait. I don’t have a parka. Because it’s southern Louisiana.”
“We have this argument every year,” Ida Belle explained. “Gertie is as opposed to buying a coat as she is to getting new glasses.”
“You should never need a coat this far south of the Mason-Dixon Line,” Gertie said. “It’s just not right.”
“And yet every year there’s at least a couple days when she’s freezing her old, wrinkled butt off,” Ida Belle said.
“Maybe you could get a bomber jacket,” I said. “They’re cool and you like to skydive.”
Gertie perked up. “That would be a reasonable compromise.”
“I’ll order one,” Walter said as we stepped up to the counter. “On the house. It will be worth it not to hear you two arguing all winter.”
“Okay, the gang’s all here,” Ida Belle said. “Spill.”
I filled them in on my conversation with the state police, such as it was. There wasn’t a whole lot to tell.
“I would have loved to see their faces when you told them you were CIA,” Gertie said.
“They were definitely surprised,” I said. “I guess Celia’s gossip didn’t include any of the parts that might have caused them to pause before treating me like a common criminal.”
Ida Belle nodded. “I imagine they weren’t any happier hearing your attorney’s name.”
“No,” I agreed. “All of which puts me in a good position. They won’t stop looking at me, but their plan to run me over like a steamroller is dead in the water unless they come up with some darned good evidence, which there’s not. But it’s still a problem for Carter. He’s my alibi for Friday night and they were none too happy about that.”
“Given the implications for the ME’s office, the governor is probably putting pressure on them to wrap this up quietly and quickly,” Walter said. “And you were the easy solution.”
“Until I wasn’t,” I said. “They’re frustrated and mad and they know they’re being played, but it’s too far up the food chain for them to do anything about it.”
“So they’ll be looking for a scapegoat so they can get the governor off their back,” Ida Belle said.
Gertie nodded. “And get the heck out of Sinful. I’m sure they think this is all a huge waste of their time, especially since the big reveal hasn’t happened yet.”
Walter didn’t show any sign of confusion, so I assumed he’d already been filled in on the autopsy and our suspicions about Dr. Wilkinson’s suspicions.
“When that autopsy is over,” Ida Belle said, “I’ll bet stuff is going to hit the fan.”
“I told Gavin to have Carter call me when he could,” I said. “But I’ll bet the state police keep him in the dark for as long as they can on everything. What about on our end? Is your source going to be able to get the autopsy results?”
Ida Belle frowned. “I don’t think so. My guess is it’s all going to be very hush-hush and kept under lock and key. If he can find out anything, he will, but he knows better than to risk his job.”
“Good,” I said. “It’s one thing for us to cross certain lines. I don’t want other people doing it for us.”
“So how do we get the information?” Gertie asked. “I mean, if they launch a murder investigation we’ll know it was murder, but we won’t know how.”
“How secure is the ME’s office?” Fortune asked.
“Like Fort Knox,” Ida Belle said. “To get to what we need, you have to have a magnetic card and a pass code. The records are locked up behind the same door as their equipment.”
“And any stiffs that are part of a police investigation,” Gertie said.
“Should I even ask why the ME has better security than the Pentagon?” I asked.
“There was an incident with a previous intern and this alligator farmer,” Gertie said. “He finally got tired of her turning down his advances and let a dozen gators loose in the building. They destroyed equipment and munched on several bodies before they could be rounded up.”
I stared. “That is a horrible story.”
“It gets worse,” Walter said. “The intern was the daughter of the New Orleans mayor. She wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed and that internship spot was the only one she’d managed to secure.”
“Not even the mayor could get her in anywhere else,” Gertie said. “So she pitched a fit and he forced the state to install all that security to protect his daughter from all the men who would pursue her.” Gertie rolled her eyes.
“What happened to the alligator farmer?” I asked.
“Serving fifteen to twenty,” Walter said. “The office was full of staff at the time. He endangered lots of people and the judge handed him the max.”
“With a bit of pressure from the mayor, no doubt,” I said. “Whatever happened to the daughter?” I couldn’t help myself. This whole Southern gossip thing was rubbing off on me.
“Got knocked up by the bathroom supply salesman,” Gertie said, giggling. “Didn’t finish her internship and lives with the TP guy. I heard she was on her third kid.”
“I bet her dad is thrilled,” I said.
Gertie waved a hand in dismissal. “Oh well, he had that whole sex-tape scandal thing with his secretary and those chickens, so his opinion on most anything doesn’t matter anymore. Last I heard he was working as a deckhand on a shrimp boat.”
“Of course he is,” I said. Only in Louisiana could a story like that make perfect sense. “Hey, you said earlier that the bodies that were part of a police investigation were in lockdown with the other goods. What about the ones that weren’t?”
Ida Belle nodded. “You’re wondering how someone got Garrett’s body out through all that security. It’s a good question, but unfortunately, it has a simple answer. The part of the building that has all the security is a newer edition. The bodies that aren’t in question are stored in the old morgue u
ntil they’re picked up for burial. Aside from locks, I don’t know that the old morgue even has a security system.”
“So if we can’t break into the ME’s office, how do we get the results?” Gertie asked.
“I don’t think we do,” I said. “We’ll know it’s murder when the state police launch an investigation.”
“You think they’re going to announce it?” Gertie said.
“I think their attitudes will,” I said. “And the direction they go when they start questioning people.”
“So what’s our next move?” Gertie said.
“Nothing,” I said.
Gertie frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I do,” Walter said. “The best thing you guys can do to help Carter is to lie low. Interfering in the state police’s investigation would only cause more problems for him, and there’s no need. Not as long as they let go of this idea that Fortune is somehow involved.”
“Well, that sucks,” Gertie said. “Things have been boring around here lately. I was hoping for something to do.”
“We’ve still got the rest of the Halloween stuff this week,” Ida Belle said. “It probably won’t have boat chases or explosions, and I’m guessing no more headless guests will turn up, but you’ll have plenty to do.”
“I could do all of that in my sleep,” Gertie said.
“Good,” Ida Belle said. “Then we’ll all catch up on our rest. But unless this situation comes back around to Fortune or gets more dire for Carter, the best thing we can do is stay away. Especially with Celia working Dr. Wilkinson into a rampage. We don’t need the governor taking a close look at things down here. He’s a big-city guy and not the least bit whimsical.”
“This is all very disappointing,” Gertie said. “I know you’re right but I really wanted a good murder to poke my nose into.”
“You’re going to have to stick to speculating about it among friends,” I said.
“We could start a betting pool,” Walter said. “Everyone pitches in twenty bucks and throws a name in the hat. When it’s all over, we take the names out and see who got it right. Winner gets the pool. Ties split.”
“My money’s on the wife,” Gertie said.
“The wife is always the logical suspect,” I said.
“Because of the money?” Walter asked.
“Because she chose to get married,” Ida Belle said. “That’s always suspicious as far as I’m concerned.”
“Not everyone has the fortitude that you have,” Walter said, a wistful tone in his voice.
“So what’s on the schedule for tonight?” I asked. “Carter will probably be tied up with the idiots from the state police all night, and there’s no festival stuff, so I figured we could hang out.”
“We can watch Salem’s Lot,” Gertie said and clapped her hands. “Walter was unpacking a box of Junior Mints earlier. We’ll make popcorn and have candy. It will be just like going to the theater except no two-hour drive, screaming kids, or line at the bathroom.”
“You know,” Walter said to me, “as much as you girls like to watch movies, you ought to take one of your upstairs bedrooms and turn it into a media room. Put a big screen on the wall and get a projector.”
“I’ve never thought about it,” I said, “but it would be kinda cool, especially since the nearest theater is in New Orleans.”
“You’d lose a bedroom, though,” Gertie said. “That would only leave two upstairs instead of three.”
Ida Belle shrugged. “Unless Fortune plans on having a bunch of kids anytime soon, I don’t see the problem with only two bedrooms.”
“Media room it is,” I said, not even wanting to joke about the thought of kids. It wasn’t something on my list of things to do. Not now. Probably not ever.
Walter chuckled. “If you’d like, I can talk to a buddy of mine who sells that sort of equipment. Might need to get some measurements on whatever room you select.”
“Do it,” I said.
Why not? I had some money to spend on the house, and it didn’t really need any repairs or updates. Turning one room into a media room would still leave me with my bedroom and a guest room. It wasn’t as if droves of people were coming to visit me. In fact, no one was coming to visit me. The only people who spent the night at my house were Ida Belle, Gertie, Ally, and Carter. One guest room suited just fine. And there was always the couch or the recliner. I spent enough time sleeping in both to know they worked.
Walter nodded. “Carter will be excited. Nothing better than football on the big screen.”
“And I suppose you’ll be wanting an invitation to the game-watching party?” Ida Belle asked.
“Seems like the least she could do,” Walter said and gave me a wink. “Let me go grab those Junior Mints. Do you ladies need anything else?”
“More popcorn,” I said. “Merlin has been eating it.”
“Sure, blame it on the cat,” Gertie said.
“Hey, every time I pop some, he gets a little,” I said.
“Fess up,” Ida Belle said. “When you run out of food from Gertie and Ally, you’re having popcorn and beer for dinner.”
“Sometimes I microwave hot dogs to go with it,” I said.
Gertie shook her head. “I swear, the two of you are related. You should do one of those AncestryDNA test thingies.”
Walter sat three boxes of Junior Mints and two boxes of microwave popcorn on the counter. “Sounds like you’re already set for the media room with your food offerings.”
“Can’t get beer at the theater,” Ida Belle said. “Fortune’s will be much better.”
“It’s already got my vote,” Walter said. “I’ll put this on Gertie’s tab since she’s making you watch an old horror movie.”
He put the items in a paper bag and pushed it across the counter. “You’ll let me know if you hear anything else, right?”
“Of course,” I said.
“And you let us know if you get anything out of Carter,” Ida Belle said.
“I don’t expect that’s going to happen,” Walter said. “He knows better.”
“Blood isn’t thicker than your relationship with the ladies?” I asked.
He blushed a bit. “Something like that.”
We reconvened at my house at 7:00 p.m. I’d gotten a brief text from Carter late that afternoon basically telling me not to wait up. I’d expected as much and had no problem reading between the lines. The state police were probably standing on top of him. I figured I’d hear from him as soon as he caught a break, which would probably be sometime really late or possibly the next morning. Given that he’d barely slept the night before, I could hardly blame him if he headed straight home for a shower and at least six hours of sleep.
Gertie was wearing her I Love Vampires T-shirt and fake fangs for the occasion.
“I tried to put in the red contacts,” she said. “But I ended up poking myself in the eye.”
“So you got red anyway,” Ida Belle said. “Call it a success and let’s get this party started.”
I fired up the microwave popcorn while Ida Belle grabbed beers and Gertie popped in the DVD. We regrouped in the living room, me in my recliner and Gertie and Ida Belle on the couch, and I clicked the Play button.
“Now remember,” Gertie said, “this is old, so it won’t look as pretty as newer films.”
“It’s still creepy as hell,” Ida Belle said.
“Halloween is creepy, and it’s old,” I said and settled back with my bowl of popcorn.
We were about an hour into the movie when I heard screaming, except it wasn’t coming from the television.
Chapter Eight
All three of us jumped up and looked at one another. I was holding my pistol, Ida Belle had pulled a giant knife out of her pants, and Gertie was struggling to get something out of her purse that resembled a cattle prod but shorter.
“Wait!” I said. “Before we all run about shooting and slashing and whatever the heck that thing is, let’s find out what’s going on.
”
“Sounds like someone’s being skinned alive in your backyard to me,” Gertie said.
I hated to agree with her, but as we made our way to the back door and the screams got louder, I couldn’t help but worry about what I was about to open the door to. I began to wonder if I should have grabbed Gertie’s purse on the way. She came over-prepared for most everything. No matter what was outside, there was probably something in that purse that could handle it.
When I heard the pistol shot, I pushed open the door and ran outside.
The second shot hit the light at my back door and shattered it. I dived off the porch and rolled to the side of the structure, scanning the backyard for the problem.
And then I saw my neighbor, Ronald Franklin Jr.
At least, I’m pretty sure it was him. Whoever it was had on a blue dress that looked as though it was out of a children’s storybook. It was long and had some flowy thing on the back. His feet were encased in blue heels that matched the dress, and in his hand was the source of the shattered light—a pink pistol.
On the bank in front of him was the source of all the screaming.
Godzilla must have decided that even Gertie’s casserole wasn’t worth all the trouble because he was hightailing it back into the water, practically sprinting to the edge before gliding down the bank and disappearing.
“What the hell, Ronald!” I yelled as I peered over the porch. Gertie and Ida Belle were just inside the kitchen door, both peeking around the doorframe.
“Don’t just stand there!” he yelled back. “Shoot that monster. I know you have big guns. Probably even a tank hidden in there. Do something.”
He turned around and started firing at the water where Godzilla had disappeared. A second later, Gertie ran out of the kitchen, jumped off the porch, and dashed across the lawn at an impressive rate given the amount of popcorn she’d consumed. She tackled Ronald from behind and he dropped the gun as they both went down in a pile. Ida Belle and I sprinted for the two as they rolled around, Ronald screaming all over again, and I grabbed the pink pistol before he could get any more ideas.
