by DeLeon, Jana
“That one is cool too,” I said. “Do you buy the coins?”
“I don’t buy them,” the boy said, “’cause I’m only eight and my allowance is only two dollars a week. Mostly people give them to me for birthdays and stuff. Mr. Sampson gave me the one you like.”
I glanced over at Gertie, who raised her eyebrows. “Does Mr. Sampson collect coins too?” I asked.
The boy shrugged. “I guess so, but they weren’t in a book or anything. He just had a big bag of them.”
“That was very nice of him to share,” I said. “Has Mr. Sampson given you any other coins?”
“No. That was the only one.” The boy’s eyes widened and his hand flew up to cover his mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to tell where I got it. Mr. Sampson made me promise.”
“Don’t worry,” I said and handed him the book. “Your secret is safe with us.”
The boy looked relieved. “Good, because I don’t want Mr. Sampson mad at me. He might have another bag of coins sometime, and if he knew I told, he probably wouldn’t give me one.”
We started across the street where Ida Belle was standing at the curb. “You get anything?” I asked.
Ida Belle nodded. “Two people saw Max talking to Brody on Main Street, and their account of the length of the conversation was a lot different than Brody’s. More like ten minutes and not two, and both of them said Brody looked mad. What about you guys?”
“We found a coin like the dies in Max’s apartment,” Gertie said.
“Found it where?” Ida Belle asked.
I recounted our conversation with Belinda and then with the boy. “Who was the kid, anyway?” I asked.
“The Dugas boy,” Gertie said. “The youngest one. I think his name is Ian.”
Ida Belle glanced across the street. “That’s Ian. Any idea how much that coin is worth?”
I pulled out my phone and did a search. “Looks like they’re worth about five hundred apiece. The real ones, anyway.”
“And Brody just handed over one to Ian and no one questioned it?”
I scrolled down on my phone. “Apparently there was a fire at some mint and a bunch of the coins were destroyed, which increased the value of those remaining. It was worth about fifty bucks before last year. The other coins in the book were the cheaper collectibles, so it probably wouldn’t occur to anyone to think the boy had been given something really valuable.”
“Especially if he never told them,” Gertie said.
“And he may not have,” I said. “He said different people gave him coins. Unless his parents were paying close attention to each gift coin, they probably don’t know what he has and doesn’t have or where they came from.”
“Probably not,” Ida Belle agreed. “So this puts a new spin on Brody.”
“Definitely,” I said. “So do we keep going?”
Ida Belle looked up at the sky. “We’ve got another three hours or so of daylight. I say we keep at it until then. We may find out more.”
“I’d like to find someone who saw Max that night,” I said. “Especially if it helped narrow down time of death.”
“Carter may have found someone,” Gertie said. “Any decent person would have reported seeing Max to the sheriff’s department as soon as they heard what happened.”
“Yeah, but what good does that do us?” I asked. “Carter’s not going to give us details about an open investigation.”
“You could try that feminine wiles thing,” Gertie said. “I have faith in you.”
“You do not. You just want to see me embarrass myself.”
Her guilty look gave her away.
“Let’s get on with it,” I said.
I didn’t want to admit that their lack of confidence in my female abilities bothered me just a little. I knew I needed work on girlie things. Director Morrow was always exasperated when I came close to blowing cover because I knew how to be an operative way better than how to be female. But I must be getting better at it. After all, Carter was into me, and it’s not like he was hard up. All of the single women in Sinful and at least half of the married ones still looked at his butt when he walked away.
Maybe after we were done canvassing the neighborhood, I’d take a shower, put on one of those cute short sundresses, and head down to the sheriff’s department just to prove them wrong.
Chapter Thirteen
I cut a huge hunk of meat loaf and put it on a tray next to a heaping pile of mashed potatoes and two long slices of French bread. “Can I have a piece of that pie?” I asked Ally and pointed to the chocolate pie she’d taken out of the oven about ten minutes before.
“Sure,” she said. “It should be cool enough to cut by now. Are you taking Carter some dinner?”
“Yeah. He finally went home to grab some sleep this morning, but he’s going to man the sheriff’s department until midnight. Deputy Breaux was done in, so he sent him home.”
“Who’s going to work dispatch?”
“Carter got Myrtle back. She’s going on shift at midnight.”
“Really? How did that happen?”
Myrtle had been the sheriff department’s dispatcher, receptionist, administrative assistant, and more importantly, Ida Belle and Gertie’s inside informant forever, but when Celia was elected mayor and replaced Sheriff Lee with her cousin Nelson, the first thing he’d done was let Myrtle go and replace her with his hooker girlfriend. Now that Sinful was rid of Nelson and his hooker, the dispatcher position was vacant.
“I don’t know for sure,” I said, “but my guess is he called her up and said ‘come back to work.’”
“I hope she sprays down that chair with Lysol. That thing Nelson had in there was seriously gross.”
“I think Carter burned it,” I said. “Anyway, I guess with Celia hiding out like a criminal, she’s not likely to come raise hell about the sheriff’s department employees.”
“I’m sure you’re right. I think Carter is well past asking permission to do much of anything, and I can’t say that I blame him. Aunt Celia has single-handedly reduced the safety in this town simply by being herself.”
“I agree, but you’d never get her to admit that.”
“Of course not.” Ally cut a slice of the pie and put it in a container, then handed it to me. “You look pretty. Between you and the food, Carter’s day should get a lot better.”
“You think I look okay?” I glanced at my reflection in the toaster. The turquoise sundress matched the color of my eyes, and up next to my tanned skin and pink lip gloss, my eyes and the dress seemed even more vibrant. My hair, which was usually in a convenient ponytail, was blow-dried straight, and the golden locks hung past my shoulders, as smooth and shiny as silk.
“No,” Ally said. “You don’t look okay. You look awesome. Stop fishing for compliments and get that food to your man.”
She gave me a shove and I grabbed the two food containers and my Jeep keys and headed out. I hadn’t been fishing for compliments. I wasn’t even certain I could. I’d seen plenty of women do it before and it always seemed awkward and somewhat embarrassing. And it wasn’t like I didn’t know what pretty looked like. I saw pretty women all the time on television and in person. Ally was pretty, and when Francine was younger, I would bet she was smoking hot.
But it was still hard to see it in myself, even though the more I saw myself decked out like this, the more I saw my mother in me. And everyone thought my mother was beautiful. I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world, but then I also lost her way too young.
I made the drive into Sinful and unloaded my wares, then headed into the sheriff’s department. Carter was at the front desk working on his laptop when I walked in. He looked up at me and his eyes widened, then he smiled. “This is a nice surprise.”
“Are you sure?” I asked and slid the food onto his desk. “I hope I’m not interrupting. I know you’ve been slammed and running on a couple hours’ sleep.”
He leaned forward and sniffed. “Is that Ally’s meat loaf?”
“You know it. We’re still whittling down Gertie’s red meat supply. I’ve also got mashed potatoes and chocolate pie.”
“Will you and Ally marry me?”
I laughed. “I don’t think you can handle both of us.”
“Baby, I can’t handle you.” He rose from the desk and came around to stand in front of me, then cupped my face with his hands. He lowered his lips to mine and my skin started to tingle. I slid my arms around him and moved closer until our bodies were pressing against each other.
He deepened the kiss and I ran my arms down his back, mentally admiring his tone. Carter LeBlanc was all male and a prime specimen. I couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like naked. I bet it was a sight to behold. I only hoped that once the truth came out, I still had the opportunity.
He broke off the kiss and smiled. “That was even better than the food.”
“How can you be certain? You haven’t tried the food yet.”
“Manna from heaven couldn’t compete with your lips and cherry lip gloss.”
I felt a blush creep up my neck. No matter how many times Carter complimented me, it still made me feel squishy all over. I’d had men attracted to me before and they’d definitely laid the flattery on thick, but when Carter said things, it felt as though he really meant them. It didn’t feel like a cheap come-on.
As he moved back behind the desk, he pulled a chair over next to him. “Sit with me while I eat,” he said. “If you have time, that is.”
“I have plenty of time,” I said as I slid onto the chair. “Ally and I finished dinner already and she’s off on a baking spree. Ida Belle and Gertie are coming over later for movie night, and that’s all I’ve got going on.”
I didn’t tell the part where they were currently over at the General Store to see what they could get out of Walter, or that after the movie, they’d be bunking at my place. Ally wasn’t in on anything either, and that’s the way we intended to keep it. As far as everyone else was concerned, we would stay up too late and drink too much, then all crash.
Carter uncovered the tray that contained the meat loaf and stabbed a big hunk of meat with a plastic fork. He popped it in his mouth and closed his eyes. “That is awesome,” he said after he swallowed. “You know, if Ally ever opened her own restaurant, I think she could give Francine a run for her money.”
“I don’t doubt it, but I don’t think she wants the responsibility of a restaurant. It’s got to be a ton of work. Speaking of which, how’s everything going down here? Have things settled down yet?”
He nodded. “All the missing husbands are accounted for. They’re broke this time because they spent all night in a casino in New Orleans, but I’m not about to tell their wives that.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“Nobody sustained any major damage. Some of the homes farther out still don’t have power, but that’s nothing new. They all have backup plans for this sort of thing. The storm didn’t last long enough for the vandalism or burglaries to get out of hand, the missing cats have all wandered home, so I’d say it’s pretty much back to normal.”
“Except for Max’s murder.”
“Yeah, except for that.”
“Did you ever talk to Celia, or does she still think she’s invisible?”
He scowled. “That woman makes me want to take a permanent vacation. It’s no wonder Max vanished from here. It was probably the only way he could escape.”
“I take it the conversation didn’t go well.”
“That’s an understatement. Do you know what she had the nerve to suggest?”
“That Marie killed Max and she did it in Celia’s house to frame her for it so that Marie could get the mayor’s position?”
Carter stared at me and blinked. “Yeah. How did you know?”
“After she accused me of doing it, Ida Belle popped off that theory. I figured if you questioned her, she’d throw out that crazy train to try to direct things away from herself. You don’t give that ridiculous theory any credence, right?”
“Please. Even if I didn’t think Celia was insane most of the time, not to mention walking around with a persecution complex of monumental proportion, Marie has an ironclad alibi.”
“Please tell me it’s for the whole night?”
“The time of death range isn’t quite that big, but the answer is still yes. She was bunking at the Olsen house with two other families. The Olsens have this enormous kitchen and family room area. Everyone stayed in that one room the entire night. Several of the adults and a couple of the kids stayed up all night, and they all insisted Marie never left the room except to use the bathroom.”
“Was she in there for long?” I asked. If I knew Celia, she’d still push to make a case even if there was only a five-minute window to work with.
“She could have been in there for an hour. The bathroom is a half bath located right off the living room and it’s an interior room. So unless Marie went into the half bath, teleported to Celia’s house, then shot Max and teleported back, there’s absolutely no way she could have been the shooter.”
“Good. Then there’s no way Celia can make trouble for Marie.”
“Oh, she’s still trying. She told me that unless I arrested Marie, she would appoint a new sheriff tomorrow and have me fired.”
“For Christ’s sake. Does that woman’s ego have an end?”
“Not that I can see.”
“What did you tell her?”
“Okay.”
I blinked. “You said you’d arrest Marie?”
“Why not? I called up Marie, told her the score, and asked if I could pick her up and bring her down to the sheriff’s department for an hour or so. Then I called the DA and told him what was up. He told me to get Marie back home before she filed a lawsuit against the department.”
I laughed. “Oh my God. That’s classic. Celia may still have some control over the sheriff’s department, but the DA doesn’t have to bow down to any of her nonsense.”
“Exactly. It helps that the DA knows Celia personally. His mother’s family is from Sinful and he grew up visiting. He’s heard enough stories to know the score. He said any time she pulls that crap to simply arrest someone and give him a call.”
“That is brilliant. I would have paid money to see the look on Celia’s face when you told her what the DA said.”
“Oh, it gets even better.” Carter grinned. “When she got all pissy about the DA, I told her that her next order might not be easy to make as she’d be sitting in the sheriff’s department jail.”
“You told Celia you were going to arrest her? She must have had kittens.”
“She turned forty shades of red and her chest swelled up like a moose. I thought she was going to explode.”
“Wait. Why would she think you would arrest her?” Carter’s story, while amusing, suddenly didn’t make sense.
Carter’s smile faded as he realized he’d just stepped into confidential investigative territory. The thing with Marie we would no doubt hear from Marie, but the other wasn’t street gossip.
I stared at him for a moment and then it clicked. “Celia doesn’t have an alibi.”
Carter pretended to focus on his dinner and I knew I was right.
“Holy crap! That is awesome. I know you can’t say anything, or won’t, whatever, but you just got handed a get out of jail free card. Or in this case, a keep running the jail free card.”
“Hmmm,” Carter said and stabbed another piece of meat loaf.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You don’t actually think she did it, do you?”
He gave me an “are you kidding” glare.
I held my hands up. “Sorry. I should have known. Hey, I know you can’t tell me anything, but that doesn’t work two ways. So do you want to hear something I heard today that made me wonder about things for a minute?”
“All one-way-street conversations are both legal and often interesting, especially given the company you three tend to keep.”
“We
were keeping regular Sinful company today. Since we didn’t have serious damage, we drove around, seeing if other people needed help.”
Carter narrowed his eyes. “Just being altruistic? I’m not buying that for a minute. So what gossip did you pick up?”
“Nothing of merit, really. Everyone seems surprised by Max’s return and even more so by his murder, but Gracie Sampson had an interesting suggestion. She suggested that Celia was the intended target, not Max.”
Carter considered this for a moment, then shrugged. “I suppose it works on some level. It was Celia’s house, and with the storm and the power outage, someone could have mistaken a silhouette in the dark for Celia rather than Max.”
I nodded. “That’s why I found it interesting. On the surface, it makes sense.”
“But not when you shift to motive. I’m well aware that Celia has her enemies, and I’m positive that all of them would like to see her thrown out of office and maybe even run out of town, but that’s where it ends.”
“That’s basically what I said—that the gap between hating someone and killing them was still a really wide one. But Gracie seems dedicated to the thought.”
“Probably wishful thinking,” he said. “There’s some old feud between Gracie and Celia. I’ve asked my mom about it before, but she didn’t know what the falling-out was about. Just that it was a long time ago and hasn’t lessened.”
“Maybe Gracie is part Italian. She certainly seems to have that grudge thing down, especially for someone walking around with a smile painted on her face.”
He laughed. “Yeah, a little bit of Gracie goes a long way.”
“A little bit of Gracie could make you diabetic. All that saccharine sweetness. I needed to brush my teeth afterward.”
“I can see that.” He sobered for a moment and seemed contemplative. He was silent for so long, I started to worry just a little. Had he heard something about our trip to New Orleans? I didn’t see how he could have, but one never knew who might have a cousin or something who heard something and reported back.
