Louisiana Longshot

by Jana DeLeon

  Jeez. Ida Belle and I were twins separated by a mere forty-plus birth years.

  I didn’t say anything at all, afraid that if I opened my mouth, decades’ worth of pent-up disappointment and anger would rush right out and flood us all. But Gertie’s words gave me a new understanding of Ida Belle’s refusal to marry the seemingly nice Walter, or any other man.

  Ida Belle motioned for us to get moving. “You two going to stand there all day gossiping about my miserable childhood, or are we going to get out of this stench and into a hot shower?”

  “I vote for hot shower,” I said and jumped in the boat.

  “What about the gator?” Gertie asked.

  “I’ll call someone to deal with it when we get back to Sinful,” Ida Belle said.

  “What’s the big deal?” I asked. “It’s not like a rotting corpse is going to change the bouquet of this place.”

  “Some people in Sinful have uses for it,” Ida Belle said.

  Recalling the stuffed-head shop on Main Street, I decided it was better not to know.

  I took the shotgun from Gertie and helped her down into the boat, then pushed us back from the dock. Ida Belle fired up the engine and began the slow process of weaving across the lake and back to the bayou. Gertie's face was still flushed as she sat on the bench, and her hands shook as she laid the shotgun across her lap.

  I studied Ida Belle through my mirrored sunglasses. The worry I expected to show on her face wasn't present. First, she looked reflective, then determined, but not even remotely stressed, anxious, or scared. Interesting. She wasn't in shock, yet the situation she'd just faced with the alligator would have sent most people's coping skills into overdrive.

  Something about Ida Belle wasn’t right. Despite the moonshine situation, I didn’t think she was under the influence of anything that would have a calming effect, and so far, I hadn’t seen any signs that she was a sociopath. But then if she was a smart one, I wouldn’t see any signs.

  As we left the lake and entered the winding bayou, I took in a deep breath of non-Number Two air and blew it slowly out. I was going to have to be more careful going forward. I’d taken Ida Belle and Gertie at their word on everything, despite warnings from Walter and Deputy LeBlanc not to get involved. Maybe there was more to the warning than I’d thought.

  Maybe Ida Belle and Gertie had more to hide than moonshine.

  ***

  It took two rounds with soap, one with body scrub, and three shampoos before I was convinced the smell wasn’t on me but instead impregnated my nasal cavity. As soon as I got out of the shower and got dressed, I was going straight downstairs and sticking my nose directly in a can of coffee grounds. If that didn’t clear the bad smell out, it was hopeless.

  I’d barely finished toweling dry when I heard banging at my front door. Ida Belle and Gertie had hightailed it after dropping me off, leaving so fast, the tires on Gertie’s old Cadillac had screeched with the effort. They seemed as anxious to put some distance between us as I was, which was interesting. I knew my reason for taking a step back and assessing the situation, but I got the feeling they were taking a step back to avoid the assessment.

  That only left Deputy LeBlanc.

  The banging started again, and I could almost hear the aggravation with every echoing rap. He wouldn’t have any knuckles left if he kept it up. I was going to take my time—leisurely pick out an outfit, even put on undergarments, and maybe even dry my glued-on hair before bothering to answer. Then the third round of banging began, this time on a window.

  I wrapped the towel around me and stalked downstairs. If he broke a window, I might have to shoot him. And that would be a problem. Besides, all that noise on top of all the stench from this morning was starting to give me a headache.

  I yanked open the front door and yelled, “What?”

  A man I’d never seen before glared at me.

  Late fifties. Spare tire around his waist and flab everywhere else. The only threat here was annoyance.

  The man gave me a long up-and-down look, then shook his head. “I should have known not to expect any better from a piece-of-shit lawyer. Can’t even bother to put on clothes to answer the door. Like we needed more trash in this town.”

  Lawyer? “And you are…?”

  “Don’t pretend like you don’t know. I know those tricks you use, and I’m here to give you fair warning that I done hired my own attorney. I’m not letting that worthless bitch get away with this.”

  I took a couple of seconds to mull over the situation. Clearly, the man had been misinformed about who I was and what I was doing in Sinful, but at the moment, I knew of only one woman in need of an attorney. Further protesting my non-attorney status probably wouldn’t get me anywhere, but if I goaded him, I might get something useful.

  I smiled. “The worthless bitch and I look forward to meeting this attorney of yours, although I have no idea what you think you’re going to accomplish.”

  “I’m gonna accomplish keeping that bitch from stealing any more money from my cousin’s estate. God only knows how much she’s blown through in the past five years, giving it away to charities and supporting that dummy brother of hers.”

  I nodded. “You’re absolutely right. Giving to charity and taking care of one’s family are horrible uses of one’s own money.”

  A red flush started on his neck and crept up his face. “Don’t get smart with me, girl. You know good and well she killed my cousin to get that money. It’s taken five years, but it’s all going to come out now. And there ain’t a thing either of you can do about it.”

  “If that’s the case, I don’t guess I understand the purpose of your visit.”

  “I’m looking for Marie. I got papers to serve her. Legal documents that will prevent her from wasting any more of my cousin’s money.”

  “You afraid there will be less left for you to take?”

  “That money is rightfully mine! If Harvey would have known what kind of conniving trash he’d married, he would have written a will. In fact, we only have the word of the conniving trash that he didn’t have a will.”

  “Well, until you can prove otherwise, I guess that word is the law.”

  “We’ll see about that. So, where is she?”

  “Who?”

  “The conniving trash!”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “I know you’re hiding her somewhere. If I have to, I’ll run you right over and search this house.”

  “No. You won’t.” The voice sounded from the side of the house.

  I leaned out the front door to see Deputy LeBlanc making his way around the house into the front lawn. He didn’t look happy.

  The man gave Deputy LeBlanc a dirty look. “I know my rights. She can’t hide Marie in there to avoid serving her papers.” He looked back at me. “Maybe I’ll just serve you instead.”

  “I wouldn’t recommend that,” I said.

  “I don’t give a shit what you recommend.” He pulled a pack of papers from his shirt pocket and tossed them at me. “Consider you and your client served.”

  He whirled around and stomped off the porch and to his truck, a beat-up Chevy. The engine rolled several times and he banged his hand on the steering wheel. The engine caught, and he flew backward out of the driveway and screeched onto the street.

  “Well, don’t just stand there,” I said.

  Deputy LeBlanc stepped onto the porch and got his first clear look at me and my current wardrobe. His expression was a mixture of resignation and exhaustion.

  “What would you like me to do?” he asked.

  “Arrest him for assaulting my house.”

  “You’re lucky I don’t arrest you for being improperly dressed in public…again.”

  “He caught me in the shower. I was going to dress before I came down, but I lost it when he started banging on the window. So, I take it Harvey’s cousin didn’t inherit money like Harvey.”

  “All he inherited from his dad was a bunch of overdue bills and
a house that was falling down and full of beer cans.”

  Interesting. “So he was unhappy that Marie got everything when Harvey disappeared?”

  “‘Unhappy’ is putting it mildly.”

  “I guess Harvey was handing out money to him before he disappeared.”

  Deputy LeBlanc shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. Harvey was the cheapest man in the world except when it came to himself.”

  “Then why aren’t you investigating that guy for Harvey’s murder? Sounds like a prime candidate to me.”

  “Who says I’m not? It’s not your business either way.”

  I reached over to pick up the papers that were lying on the front porch. It was an order to appear in court the day after tomorrow, so the court could rule on the merit of freezing all Marie’s assets. I glanced at the complainant. Melvin Blanchard.

  “You shouldn’t have those,” Deputy LeBlanc said.

  “I told him it wasn’t a good idea to give them to me. Can I help it if he’s an idiot?” I handed the papers to Deputy LeBlanc. “You know this means she doesn’t have to appear. She hasn’t been served.”

  “As soon as you find some clothes, you can report that to Ida Belle and Gertie and make them happy.” He narrowed his green eyes at me. “You know you’re asking for a heap of trouble, letting those two talk you into whatever they’re up to. The only thing that can help Marie is a good defense attorney. She’s not furthering her case by hiding.”

  “I know.”

  He sighed. “If you know that, then why are you helping them hide her?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Sure you’re not.”

  I felt my pulse spike and a flush creep up my neck. I wasn’t opposed to lying, even on Sundays, but when I told the truth, I expected people to believe me. “Look—I just spent my morning slogging around on an island that smelled like a big turd, and Gertie was almost killed by an alligator. My nasal passages may never recover, and the worst part is, we didn’t find Marie there. No one knows where she is.”

  He studied me for several seconds, and I saw something click in his expression. Finally, he believed me. He shook his head and sighed. “Did Ida Belle shoot the gator?”

  “Yes. Don’t tell me you’re going to arrest her for that?”

  “No, but at least I won’t have to question Francine over where she got fresh alligator meat.”

  “You eat those things? Seriously?”

  Deputy LeBlanc ignored my question and pointed a finger at me. “For a librarian, you seem to be in the middle of all the trouble happening in this town. Now, I’ve already told you once to back away. I suggest you listen when I tell you this time.”

  He whirled around and strode around the side of the house. I hurried into the kitchen and peeked out the blinds in time to see him head toward an aluminum boat that was pulled up onto the back lawn. He paused at the edge of the bayou and looked back at the house. I eased the blind down to a narrow slit.

  He pushed the boat off the bank and jumped inside with admirable agility and balance. As he coasted away, he lifted his hand to wave.

  I looked over at Bones, who’d opened one eye when I walked into the kitchen. “Some guard dog you are.”

  He yawned and closed the eye.

  I stepped back from the window and blew out a breath. Deputy LeBlanc was beyond annoying. Even more so at the moment because he was right. I was in the middle of something that could get me splashed across newspapers, or even worse, television. Despite my makeup and hair extensions, there was a chance someone in Ahmad’s organization would see the story and recognize me. At worst, I’d be killed. At best, Morrow would fire me. Neither sounded like good options.

  But what concerned me even more was why the good deputy had been docked in my backyard to begin with. The hedges prevented a clear view of the driveway from the bayou, so he couldn't have seen Melvin’s truck parked there. And the guy was loud, but I doubted seriously that he was loud enough to be heard through a house, across a fairly big lawn, and over a boat motor.

  All of which meant that Deputy LeBlanc hadn’t been cruising down the bayou and stopped off to prevent a fight. He’d obviously docked at the house for a completely different reason, and that made me really uncomfortable.

  The back yard didn’t hold any clues. The body hadn’t been buried there; it had drifted along in the current until Bones dug it up. Marge was dead and gone, so hardly available to be pumped for information about Marie.

  The only thing left that could be drawing him to the house was me. He knew I couldn’t be involved in the murder, but he had every reason to suspect I was involved in a cover-up. I thought he’d believed me earlier when I told him about the trip to Number Two, and I was sure he’d get it all verified with Walter. But he still knew I was involved with whatever Gertie and Ida Belle were up to and likely figured I was going to stay that way.

  Unless he can pressure you into leaving town.

  It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but a smart man might take that tactic. And despite my general dislike for Deputy LeBlanc, I didn’t think for a moment that he was stupid. I might not be prone to the inner workings of small-town Louisiana, but I knew the three best ways to get someone to leave: kill them, threaten to kill them, or threaten to expose something they don’t want exposed.

  I wasn’t worried about the first two, and if Deputy LeBlanc got it in his head to run my prints, looking to find some dirt on me, he’d come up empty-handed. Morrow had seen to that himself. There was no trace of me left in federal databases.

  But all it would take is a couple of phone calls to the right people and he might find out that the real Sandy-Sue Morrow was jet-setting in Europe. And that discovery would bring down the whole house of cards.

  Chapter Ten

  I fixed a ham sandwich, went into the living room, and tried to concentrate on a hunting show on television. None of the so-called professionals on the show had a thing on Ida Belle, which was both impressive and worrisome at the same time. I was a trained assassin and wasn’t sure I could have made the shot Ida Belle did under the same circumstances. At close range, I was excellent at hand-to-hand, or shoe-to-hand, combat, but I preferred to do my shooting from a distance and with a scope.

  I swallowed the last bite of my sandwich and crumpled the napkin onto the plate sitting on the side table next to me. Who was I trying to fool—sitting here, pretending I wasn’t spending every moment thinking about Marie, Melvin, Deputy LeBlanc, Ida Belle and Gertie, and the dark cloud of gloom that had descended on me ever since I’d arrived in Sinful? I could watch stupid television from now until the end of time, but the problem wasn’t going away—not until someone found Marie and everything moved into the legal system.

  Which left me right in Deputy LeBlanc’s line of sight until the case ceased being his responsibility and became the state prosecutor’s problem.

  I drummed my fingers on the in table until the noise made me crazy. Finally, I grabbed the bag of cookies I’d been about to dive into, jumped up from the chair, and hurried out the door. I’d looked up Ida Belle’s and Gertie’s addresses on the Internet the other night when I was doing my research, but their telephone numbers had been unlisted.

  I’d try Gertie’s house first, and if they weren’t there, I’d head to Ida Belle’s next. It seemed the only way to ensure maintaining my cover was to find someone who didn’t want to be found. It wasn’t that much different from my real job, except the part about not having to kill anyone at the end of the mission. As the intended target was some kindly old lady who’d been abused by her husband and mother, I figured I could restrain myself.

  Gertie’s house was two blocks over from mine, so I stuck a cookie in my mouth and started out up the street, then made the turn around the corner to head to Gertie’s. No sooner had I rounded the huge hedge on the corner than I ran straight into Deputy LeBlanc, who was parked next to the curb, securing his boat to the trailer.

  Despite my quick pace and complete lack of braking, he d
idn’t even budge when I slammed into his back. As he whirled around, I took a step back, a bit surprised at how solid he was. It seemed I had originally underestimated Deputy LeBlanc on almost every level.

  “Sorry,” I said, figuring taking the polite route would be best.

  “In a hurry?”

  “Just getting some exercise.”

  He looked down at the bag of chocolate chip cookies I had clutched in my hand, then raised one eyebrow.

  “The cookies are the reason I have to exercise,” I lied. “I’m not allowed to eat any unless I exercise while doing it.”

  He gave me a placating smile. “Sounds complicated.”

  “It works for me.” I popped another cookie in my mouth. “Guess that means I have to run.”

  He put his hand on my arm before I took the first step. “I couldn’t help but notice that your cookies were taking you the direction of Gertie’s house.”

  “And? This entire town is the size of a postage stamp and is surrounded by bayous. Unless I plan on swimming, I’m going to be walking toward everyone’s house, eventually.”

  “Hmmm. I thought maybe you were about to ignore my good advice about staying out of my murder investigation.”

  “I was not.”

  He stared at me, clearly not believing a word.

  “I don’t even know where she lives.”

  He studied my face, but he didn’t have a chance. Lying was a huge part of my job. I’d been trained by the best forensic psychologists in the world. My own father wouldn’t have been able to catch me lying by body language or facial expression.

  Finally, he dropped his hand and gave me a single nod. “Try not to eat too many more of those. Trouble seems to follow you around. The thought of you roaming the streets makes me nervous.”

  “Ha. You’ve got man-eating monsters pretending to be frogs in your backyard, banana pudding wars, missing people, and an unsolved murder. I am the least of your worries.”