Swamp Spook

by Jana DeLeon

  I shoved it in my waistband and then went to help Ida Belle break the two of them up. Ida Belle had grabbed hold of Ronald’s legs and was trying to pull him away from Gertie, so I grabbed her legs and did the same in the opposite direction. But their grasp on each other was so good we couldn’t break them apart. I was just getting ready to go in for the hands when I felt a cold spray of water hit me in the back. A second later, the spray hit Ronald and Gertie and they released each other and sprang up from the ground. I turned around and saw Carter standing there with my water hose, shaking his head.

  “This one was not my fault,” I said. “He started it. Trespassing on my property. Shooting his pistol.”

  “That monster was in her yard again,” Ronald sputtered. “She’s feeding him. I know she is. It’s her fault he keeps coming back. He’s a menace and he needs to be killed.”

  Now that Ronald was standing, Carter got a good look at his getup. Wet and muddy, it looked even more ridiculous than it had before. He stared at Ronald for several seconds, his expression one of confusion and disbelief. Finally, he sighed.

  “Mr. Franklin,” he said, “you cannot go around randomly discharging your weapon, and you certainly can’t do it on someone else’s property.”

  “I can if I’m in fear for my life,” Ronald argued.

  “You wouldn’t be in fear for your life if you weren’t trespassing,” I said. “You shot out my porch light when I was standing right next to it. You could have killed me.”

  Ronald didn’t even bother to attempt a contrite look. Quite frankly, he looked somewhat disappointed that the light had been the one to buy it.

  “No big loss,” he mumbled.

  Carter held up his hand before I could launch at him. “Tell me what happened, Mr. Franklin,” Carter said.

  “I was working on my costume for the festival,” Ronald said.

  Thank God. At least that explained the getup.

  “Princess Elsa from Frozen?” Gertie asked.

  “What?” Ronald looked confused. “No. I’m going as Jan from The Brady Bunch. This is my Sunday evening wear, which you’ve ruined, I might add.”

  “Looks like I did everyone a favor,” Gertie said.

  “So you were working on your costume,” Carter said. “How did you end up playing Wyatt Earp in Ms. Redding’s backyard?”

  “I stepped outside to get a breath of fresh, cool air,” Ronald said.

  “Fresh air?” Gertie asked. “In Sinful?”

  He glared at her and looked back at Carter. “I was checking on my azalea bushes when I saw that thing creeping across her backyard.”

  “Those bushes are as thick as my house,” I said. “You were spying on me.”

  Ronald grabbed the cape thingy and flipped it over his shoulder. “I would never!”

  “Never again, maybe,” I said. “Because next time, I’m going to shoot you myself. And I’d be well within my rights given that you fired first. The only difference is, when I take a shot, I don’t miss.”

  His eyes widened and I knew that the rumors of my previous employment had made the rounds to his house. I pulled his pink pistol from my waistband and handed it to Carter.

  “This pistol,” I said to Ronald, “wouldn’t have even tickled that alligator. If you’d hit him, you would have only made him mad. Then he would have come straight for you, and I would have stood right on that porch and cheered…for the gator.”

  “He’s certainly not outrunning a gator in those heels,” Ida Belle said, pointing to the shoes that were lying on the ground, torn and one heel missing.

  Ronald snatched up his shoes. “That’s two pairs of shoes you’ve ruined with your illegal pet. I’m talking to my attorney. I’m sure he’ll be sending you a bill.”

  “Great,” Carter said. “You can talk to him down at the sheriff’s department. And while you’re at it, you can tell him you were trespassing, and when you illegally discharged your weapon, you damaged private property and almost shot another person.”

  Ronald’s eyes widened. “You’re arresting me? That’s absurd. I can’t spend the night in jail. It’s unsanitary.”

  “The cleaning service was just there on Friday,” Carter said. “Don’t worry, I picked up a bunch of drunks at the Swamp Bar. You’ll have plenty of company.”

  “Oh my.” Ronald staggered a bit and put his hand to his forehead. A second later, he slumped onto the ground.

  “You scared him into unconsciousness,” Ida Belle said. “I would say it’s impressive, but it’s Ronald so…”

  Carter looked down at the lump of Ronald and sighed. “I don’t suppose you guys would help me toss him in my truck.”

  “You’re really going to put him in jail?” I said. “I thought you were just trying to scare him.”

  “I was and I am,” Carter said. “I can’t have him shooting a gun every time something bothers him. With you living next door, he’s bound to be bothered more often than not. He’s going to end up killing someone. Maybe a night in the drunk tank will change the way he thinks.”

  “You’re not really going to throw him in there with Swamp Bar drunks, are you?” Gertie asked. “I mean, he’s an absolute fool, but they’d take one look at that dress and kill him.”

  “No, but I’ll put him in the cell next to them,” Carter said. “They’ll taunt him all night and maybe by tomorrow morning, he’ll have decided he never wants to visit me at my workplace again.”

  “Alrighty then,” I said. “Everyone grab a limb.”

  We hoisted Ronald up and carried him up front to Carter’s truck, then got him positioned in the passenger’s seat. Carter put a pair of cuffs on him, then cuffed him to the door for good measure.

  “He’s stupid enough to try to jump,” Carter said.

  “Or fight you,” Ida Belle said. “The man has some serious issues.”

  “Not with me,” I said, and grinned. “He loves me.”

  “Sure he does,” Gertie said. “Now that the random-gunfire-and-tackling-idiots part of the night is over, can I get a towel and a blow-dryer so we can get back to the movie?”

  I nodded and looked over at Carter.

  “I’d like to tell you I’ll see you tonight,” he said, “but if I ever get off work, I’ll probably just go home and collapse.”

  “You should,” I said.

  He gave me a quick kiss and Gertie whistled, then he drove off.

  “That man could collapse on me anytime,” Gertie said. “I mean, if he wasn’t yours.”

  “If a man collapsed on you, he’d knock your breath out,” Ida Belle said.

  “Or accidentally get taken out by the contents of her purse,” I pointed out.

  “At least I don’t carry a pink pistol,” Gertie said.

  I grinned. “There is that. Okay, so please tell me we have something on the agenda tomorrow night that involves getting out of this house and not seeing Ronald in a dress.”

  “I can’t promise anything about Ronald,” Ida Belle said. “That man gets odder by the day.”

  “Tomorrow is movie night,” Gertie said.

  “Again?” I asked. “Because this movie night was a lot more intense than I planned. I was hoping for maybe a coloring contest or something.”

  “Not movie night here,” Gertie said. “Movie night in the park. We’re showing Halloween on one of those blow-up big screens.”

  “We run the popcorn machine,” Ida Belle said. “The only thing that could go wrong is the same thing that goes wrong every year—Gertie eats too much popcorn and winds up with a stomachache.”

  “So no different than tonight, except we’re outside,” I said.

  “And probably no one will be shooting,” Ida Belle said.

  Probably.

  Monday was almost scary quiet. Carter dropped Ronald off at his house that morning while I was checking my mail. He went stomping in, holding what was left of his shoes and glaring in my direction. Carter stopped long enough to say he was slammed with the state police and all their
nonsense, but he’d see me at the park tonight as he and Deputy Breaux and Sheriff Lee were all on duty.

  So far this morning, he hadn’t seen any shift in the state police’s focus, so I presumed the assistant ME was waiting on test results before making a final determination. Given the amount of attention Garrett’s death was getting, I could hardly blame him. If it turned out Garrett was murdered, heads were going to roll over how things had been handled.

  Beyond checking the mail, I spent the day reading and catching up on laundry and housekeeping until it was time to get ready for movie night. No costumes were required, so we settled on jeans and movie-themed sweatshirts that Gertie had bought online. I insisted on the Jaws one, because really, who doesn’t like a killer shark movie? Ida Belle went for The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, which totally fit, and Gertie was Swamp Thing, which she thought was hilarious. Now all we needed was a clear night with no rain and we were good.

  At 8:00 p.m., movie night was in full swing and we were slinging popcorn like pros. The predicted rain had held and every teen in Sinful had shown up for the big scare in the park. Unfortunately, the cold front that had brought a pleasant cool breeze into Sinful the previous day had completely made its way through and was sending sharp bursts of cold air onto us now. The inflatable big screen had to be secured with more line to keep it from rolling off and even now, the movie still wobbled on the screen as it tried to jiggle off its ties.

  Getting popcorn out of the machine and into paper sleeves was an adventure in dexterity and wind blocking. A couple of the volunteers had fashioned us some sides to our tent with tarps, and that had helped with the worst of the wind. But occasionally, we got a swirling gust and had to fling ourselves over the sleeves and slam the door shut on the machine, or we ended up with a paper and popcorn tornado. I was pretty sure I had butter and salt on every exposed piece of my body.

  I’d seen Carter making a patrol lap earlier and he’d stopped by long enough to say hello but hadn’t lingered. The state police were lurking near the snow cone stand about fifty feet from our tent. I assumed they were watching me, proving once again that for some people, laziness could beat out common sense any day. Carter had looked aggravated but not the least bit surprised when I’d pointed out his buddies were here.

  “Hey, you’re that girl that chopped off that dude’s head.”

  I turned around to see two teen boys grinning at me.

  Not even worth profiling. Threatening only to teen girls and their dads’ beer stash.

  “I did not chop off anyone’s head,” I said. “But I could start.”

  The grins faltered.

  “Hey, that’s cool,” the first one said. “I didn’t figure it was true. I mean, you’re kinda hot to be a serial killer or something.”

  “Hot girls are the devil’s candy,” Ida Belle said. “Don’t let her looks fool you.”

  “So you did chop off the head?” the second one asked, looking confused.

  “I’m not really one to go for head chopping,” I said and smiled. “Too much work. There are other parts of the body that are much smaller, and since it doesn’t have bones, it’s a lot easier to cut off. One good whack with a sharp knife is all it takes.”

  “Popcorn,” Ida Belle said and shoved it at them. They grabbed the bags and hustled off, glancing backward as they went.

  Ida Belle waited until they were lost in the crowd to laugh. “Idiots.”

  I nodded. And yet.

  “Someone’s talking,” I said.

  Ida Belle sobered. “One guess as to who.”

  “I don’t need this. I’m supposed to be moving on. You know, changing my life for the better. Taking on some cheating husband cases, maybe pick up some insurance fraud work. The kind of stuff where you get to sleep in your own bed most nights and hardly anyone shoots at you.”

  “I know,” Ida Belle said. “But it’s hard to lie low in a place like Sinful, especially with a background like yours and an enemy like Celia. I’m afraid most of that is on Gertie and me. If we hadn’t been riling her up for several decades, she wouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

  “People like Celia always need a scapegoat for their troubles,” I said. “I know that. I just wish she’d focus on someone else for a day or two. Or maybe take an extended vacation to swim in the Nile.” I sighed. “I don’t suppose she’ll ever move.”

  “Not an ice cube’s chance in hell,” Ida Belle said.

  “I figured,” I said.

  “Hey, you two want to stop yapping and help me out,” Gertie said.

  We turned around to see her attempting to stuff popcorn into sleeves, but the wind was whipping around the sides of the tarp, blowing the sleeves and the popcorn around.

  “Why is there so much popcorn?” Ida Belle asked. “This thing is halfway full and it keeps going.”

  Gertie slammed the door shut on the front of the machine and gave her a sheepish look. “I might have filled it twice by accident.”

  Ida Belle stared. “Good God, woman. Are you trying to drown us in this stuff? Open that door and let’s get some of that out before it goes back into the hopper and starts burning.”

  The warning came about ten seconds too late.

  Chapter Nine

  The acrid smell of burned popcorn began to fill the tent. Ida Belle’s eyes widened and she spun around and glared at Gertie.

  “Turn it off!” she yelled. “Before it catches on fire.”

  And that’s when Satan’s right-hand woman showed up.

  “I can’t believe you have the nerve to show your face,” Celia said. She stood in front of the tent, hands on her hips, glaring at me.

  “Better than showing your butt,” Gertie said. “Which is what you usually do.”

  “The only person showing her butt around here is you,” Celia said. “Flashing all those people at the festival. You ought to be ashamed.”

  “You’re the one who stripped me,” Gertie said. “You could at least buy my dinner first.”

  Celia’s face turned red and she turned her ire on me, shaking her fist. “This farce you’re insisting on isn’t going to continue. You’ll either leave town voluntarily and go back to whatever rock you crawled out from under with your lies, or you’ll be transported to a jail in New Orleans. I don’t care as long as you’re gone.”

  “Let me ask you a question,” I said. “What about your life is going to improve if I’m gone? You’ll still be an angry, bitter, unattractive, unlikable old bag whose so-called friends are simply too scared of you to call you out on your crap.”

  That’s when the popcorn machine caught on fire.

  And a huge gust of wind brought the tent crashing down on all of us.

  My immediate reflex was to thrash around under the tent, attempting to toss it over my body and work my way out. Unfortunately, the wind had the thing clinging to my face, and the smoke from the popcorn machine was filling what little air space was available, reducing already restricted visibility to practically nil.

  “Help! I’m on fire,” Gertie yelled.

  “Drop and roll!” Ida Belle shouted.

  I felt something roll across my feet, then another body fell into me. I managed to pivot and avoid falling but whoever was wrapped in the tent wasn’t as fortunate. The ensuing bang indicated they’d fallen into the popcorn machine. It must have tipped over, because a couple seconds later there was a huge crash, and the air was filled with the smell of butter and burned popcorn. A flash of worry concerning hot oil rushed through me, but even more disconcerting were the flames that shot up just a few feet away.

  I dropped onto my knees and tried to locate a sliver of light, indicating an edge of the tent. If I could find a side, I could get help. Finally, I saw a tiny flicker to my left and I crawled that way, then grabbed the edge of the tent and threw it back over my head.

  The spray from the fire extinguisher caught me right in the face. And I’d just opened my mouth as wide as I could to draw in fresh air. I started coughing and spitting, t
hen wiped my eyes, trying to focus on the steaming mess behind me. Where were Ida Belle and Gertie? Between the smoke and my clouded vision, I could barely see anything.

  A burst of lightning overhead lit up the area as though someone had turned on floodlights, and I could see the tent smoldering in front of me, flames still shooting out of the back end. I flung the foam from my face and grabbed the edge of the tent and yanked it up. Ida Belle crawled out from under the flaming structure, Gertie hot on her tail. Literally.

  I grabbed a fire extinguisher from the guy who’d shot me and directed it at Gertie, whose hoodie had flames shooting off the top. She hit the ground with the first blast and I directed another stream at her just to be sure. I heard shouting to my right and looked over as two men helped drag Celia out from under the tent. As they drew her past the edge of the flaming structure, the hem of her dress ignited. The flames shot up the back of her dress, turning it to ash in a matter of a second.

  “Roll!” a man yelled.

  Celia dropped flat and set off in a rolling frenzy right into one of the men who’d rescued her. He pitched forward and landed across her just as I sprayed them both with foam. Celia popped up from the ground, leaving a trail of foam dripping and her backside exposed. The only positive thing I could say was at least her underwear must have been made this century. They hadn’t gone up in flames with her dress.

  Of course, staring at her white granny panties that blended with her equally white legs wasn’t exactly a pleasant thing either, as evidenced by the gasps from the many onlookers. I lifted the extinguisher and hit her backside again, but as she whirled around to glare at me, she flung the foam off.

  “For God’s sake, give her your coat,” Ida Belle said to a man standing next to me.

  “This is my good coat,” the man said.

  “And this is my good eyesight,” Ida Belle said. “You can replace the coat. I’m more worried about the psychological damage to everyone else.”

  The man glanced at Celia and grimaced, then yanked off his coat and tossed it at her, trying not to look in her direction. The coat hit her square in the face and she glared at the man but thankfully, pulled it on. Then she stomped right up to me.