by Jana DeLeon
“Wow!” Gertie said. “Your kitchen is a dream. I couldn’t do something like this justice, but I’d pay to spend a day in here baking.”
Molly frowned. “I’d loan you my boyfriend before I’d let you use my kitchen.”
I worried for a second that Gertie might take her up on that loan. She had been on a bit of a manhunt lately, but apparently Molly’s boyfriend wasn’t on Gertie’s menu. She said thank you so politely that I had to cough to cover my laugh. I supposed even Gertie had a line in the sand when it came to men.
“Here you go,” Molly said and pulled a container of dip from one of the two huge refrigerators. Then she dumped some crackers in a bowl. “The presentation isn’t up to my normal fare but I just need a quick opinion. Normally, I wouldn’t ask as I don’t care much for what other people think, but this one is a little spicy—candied jalapeños.”
Which she’d bothered to tell us after I’d dumped a cracker with a load of the dip into my mouth. I braced myself for hellfire and doom but this wasn’t bad. It tingled a bit but that only added to the taste. And the taste was awesome.
“This might be one of the best things I’ve ever eaten,” I said. “Can you sell this to me by the gallon or the pound—whatever a really, really big container is?”
Molly laughed, and I could tell she was pleased as Gertie and Ida Belle doubled down on my thoughts.
“I’m surprised you didn’t ask for the recipe,” Molly said. “That’s usually what most people do.”
“I’m not domestic,” I said. “But I’ll gladly pay people who are.”
“You wouldn’t sell a recipe anyway,” Gertie said. “Would you?”
“Ha!” Molly said. “I wouldn’t give this recipe to Jesus even if he guaranteed me forgiveness and a seat next to the big man.”
“I can offer you an old recliner and money if you give me an ice chest of this,” I said.
She shook her head. “If you ate that much, it would make you sick and it’s best fresh. But I could probably sell you a good-sized container of it if you like it that much.”
“I will mortgage my house if I have to just to pay for it,” I said.
“Good,” Molly said. “’Cause it’s a pain in the butt to make so it’s not going to be cheap like some ranch dressing dumped in a bowl. But since you girls like it so much, I’ll add it to Ida Belle’s wedding list.”
“I’ll get you more cash,” Ida Belle said.
Molly waved a hand in dismissal. “Consider it my wedding gift. You and Gertie were the first people to give me a chance with my business, and your recommendations helped me launch. Without your backing, I would have never gotten off the ground.”
“You could have force-fed people this dip,” I said.
Molly laughed. “Fierce and creative.”
“Thank you,” Ida Belle said, and I could tell she was really happy about the addition. “I cannot wait to see the rest of the items on the menu. I am sure everyone is going to be thrilled.”
“Heck, what’s not to be thrilled about?” Molly asked. “Crawfish, beer, my sides, Ally’s baking. It will be like everyone died and went to food heaven.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” I said, then looked at Ida Belle. “You should have gotten married months ago. Look at what we’ve been missing out on.”
“If Ida Belle would have said yes to Walter when he first asked, I would have still been in the pen,” Molly said.
“If she’d said yes when Walter first asked, you wouldn’t even have been born yet,” Gertie said.
We all laughed and Molly checked her watch. “Okay, girls, I have to cut this short. I’ve got a match scheduled with two ex-cons in fifteen minutes. Unless, of course, you want to give the cage a whirl.”
We all politely declined, and Molly grinned and shoved the bowl of dip at us as we left the kitchen.
“We might need a cage match to decide who gets to keep that dip,” Gertie said as we got in the SUV.
“I have an unopened box of Wheat Thins,” I said. “And a new bottle of wine that the clerk at the liquor store up the highway said tasted like raspberries.”
“Oh, that sounds great,” Gertie said. “Unless, of course, Ida Belle has any more nontraditional wedding errands to run.”
“My list for today is complete,” Ida Belle said. “I was thinking about fishing this evening, but sitting inside with the AC, wine, and that dip beats out fishing by a long shot.”
“Sitting quietly in a corner with AC and no dip should beat out fishing,” I said. “I swear this summer is hotter than last year.”
“Nah,” Gertie said. “You’d just come here from the sandpit, so you were more acclimated to really hot. It didn’t seem as bad. Now that you’re a regular, you’ll eventually give up and fish and sweat. It’s the Southern way.”
“Why would I go out in a boat and sweat when I never actually fish?” I asked.
“I keep hoping that one day it will look like so much fun that you’ll want to do it regularly,” Gertie said.
“You people aren’t regular,” I said. “You’re insane. You fish when it’s ninety-five degrees and when it’s thirty degrees. You fish in hurricanes. You’d probably fish in tornadoes as long as you thought your boat could outrun it.”
Gertie nodded.
“Same goes for hunting,” Ida Belle said to Gertie. “Remember that year we went hunting when we hit that record low of twenty degrees? I had on two pair of pants, three shirts, and five pair of socks. Thought I’d never get my waders on.”
“Would have bagged that duck if I hadn’t fallen in the bayou,” Gertie said. “Man, that was cold.”
“You almost died of hypothermia,” Ida Belle said. “Cold is a bit of an understatement. And I told you not to walk that close to the ledge. That overhang was just waiting to break off. All her yelling scared the ducks away for a week.”
“Quit your grousing,” Gertie said. “You still got your limit. All I got was pneumonia.”
“So I take it you learned your lesson?” I asked.
“Heck yeah,” Gertie said. “I wear a dry suit under my clothes now.”
Ida Belle shook her head as I laughed. Gertie logic.
Chapter Three
It was getting on toward late afternoon and Ida Belle, Gertie, and I were semi-comatose in my living room after consuming the entire box of Wheat Thins and the dip. I think we drank two bottles of wine but I honestly couldn’t remember. I was in a cream cheese and cracker haze. We’d turned on the television but no one was watching. I was certain that was the case as it was showing a golf tournament. Most likely, Merlin had walked on the remote and no one had the energy to fix the situation.
Gertie groaned. “I’m going to have to have water and air only until your wedding, or I’m not going to fit into my dress.”
“You aren’t going to fit into that dress unless you die and decay for a year or two,” Ida Belle said. “Why didn’t you just order it in your size?”
“I thought I’d be thinner by the time the wedding came around,” Gertie said.
“You ordered it two weeks ago,” Ida Belle said. “Were you planning on getting a horrible stomach flu?”
Gertie waved a hand in dismissal. “I can take a water pill and lose ten pounds in a day. I didn’t think another ten was out of the question.”
“You can take a water pill and spend all day in the bathroom,” Ida Belle said. “Remember what happened last time you went that route?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gertie mumbled.
I opened one eye. “This I have to hear.”
“Gertie had a hot date with the new widower in town,” Ida Belle said. “His wife’s body wasn’t even cold before the casserole queens lined up to get a shot at him, but that’s small-town living for you.”
“He had all of his teeth and hair,” Gertie said. “What did you expect?”
“Pension plan?” I asked.
“No one’s perfect,” Gertie said.
Ida Be
lle grinned. “So someone thinks she’s going to take a water pill and squeeze into a skirt she bought back when JFK was still alive.”
“It lifted my butt,” Gertie said.
“It squeezed your butt so tight it scared gravity,” Ida Belle said. “Anyway, Gertie took the water pill, thinking she had a few days before the wife kicked it, but she went early. So she grabs her casserole and heads over there the next day, then promptly runs past the eligible widower and straight into his bathroom…and didn’t leave until the next day.”
I grinned. “I hope you had enough toilet paper.”
Gertie grimaced. “There was only half a roll and the bathroom wasn’t even clean. Who has a death in the household and doesn’t think to clean their guest bathroom?”
Ida Belle chuckled. “It was a narrow miss—not catching the guy with all his teeth and a dirty bathroom.”
“It was clean when I left,” Gertie said. “I asked for Comet and a scrub brush. I could reach the sink and the tub from where I was sitting.”
I laughed. “Oh my God! I wonder what he was thinking when you asked for cleaning supplies.”
“Probably thinking about what his house would sell for,” Ida Belle said. “He listed it the day after he got Gertie out of there.”
“I’m sure he got more for it since I cleaned his bathroom,” Gertie groused. “Anyway, that was a fluke.”
“Oh Lord,” I said. “Another fluke. What does that make, like ten million flukes in your lifetime?”
“Keep laughing,” Gertie said. “But one day, Carter will have less hair and teeth and you’ll be lucky if he ever leaves the seat down.”
“Less hair and teeth I can deal with,” I said. “But he knows I’ll shoot him if I fall in the toilet in the middle of the night.”
“Threat of death is a good motivator,” Ida Belle said. “I’ll have to remember that for when Walter thinks he’s going to impose man stuff in my space.”
“So is Walter moving into your house?” I asked.
Ida Belle had never been one to talk at length about her personal life, but she’d been even quieter than usual when it came to her and Walter’s future, especially their living arrangements.
“We haven’t really decided,” she said. “But I’m making a note of things. I like to be prepared.”
“You’re getting married next Saturday,” Gertie said. “How can you not know where you’ll be living after that?”
“I know where I’ll be living,” Ida Belle said. “It’s Walter who’s unsure.”
“Is he unsure because he doesn’t want to leave his house or because he’s not sure if he’ll be shot for moving a toothbrush into yours?” Gertie asked.
“Don’t be silly,” I said. “There’s plenty of room for Walter’s bathroom essentials and his clothes. Not like Ida Belle is girling it up in either of those areas. The question is whether he gets any garage or freezer space.”
Ida Belle nodded. “So you see my dilemma.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” I said. “Maybe you should add on to the garage. Or just keep extra frozen goods at the General Store. He’s got tons of freezer space.”
Ida Belle threw her hands in the air. “Which is exactly what I keep telling him. But then he’s all like ‘this law’ and ‘that inspection’ and you just can’t reason with the man.”
“I think you should build a guesthouse in the backyard,” Gertie said. “At least then he’d have a place to go when he’s tired of everything being your way.”
“He already has a place to go,” Ida Belle said. “His house.”
Gertie shook her head in dismay, then looked at me. “Please tell me you aren’t going to make Carter live in his own home when you two tie the knot.”
I held my hands up. “Whoa! I’m not even to the point where marriage is a passing thought. No way am I having a conversation about it.”
“Is Carter aware that he’s not a passing thought?” Gertie asked.
“I think about Carter all the time,” I said. “I just don’t think about marrying Carter.”
Gertie gave me a mischievous grin. “Is he naked when you think about him?”
“Oh good God!” Ida Belle threw her hands in the air.
My cell phone rang and I checked it.
“Speaking of naked thoughts,” I said.
“I knew it!” Gertie said.
I laughed and answered, but I could tell right away that something was wrong.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Is Ida Belle with you?” he asked.
“Yeah, she’s right here,” I said. “Why? Was there an explosion somewhere? Because I swear, we spent the last couple hours eating ourselves into oblivion and then crashing in my living room.”
“Were you by any chance at Miss Molly’s house earlier today?” he asked.
“Sure, hence the eating ourselves into oblivion,” I said. “Ida Belle dropped off the catering money.”
“Did you see Molly?” he asked.
“Well, we didn’t break into her house and steal her food,” I said. “What’s going on? Did something happen to her?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m trying to figure that out.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “She’s either okay or she’s not.”
“She’s missing,” he said. “So I can’t tell you whether or not she’s okay.”
“We just saw her shortly after noon,” I said. “How long could she possibly be missing?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I got a call about an hour ago from a woman saying Molly called her but the call was cutting in and out and was hard to hear over engine noise. All she could make out was ‘he’s going to kill me.’ Then she heard Molly yell and the phone went dead. I came out here right away to check. Her boat’s gone from the dock and there’s no sign of Molly.”
“What about her boyfriend?” I asked. “He was there when we were.”
“That idiot claims he didn’t know she’d left.”
“Do you buy it?”
“I don’t know if I do or not. It’s too weird right now. Anyway, there was a contract on her desk with Ida Belle’s name on it dated today, so I figured I’d call and ask.”
“Was the money there?”
“I, uh, listen, I need to stop talking about this. If this turns into a missing persons case…”
“I know. I know. Civilians can’t be involved in law enforcement business. But will you at least call as soon as you know something about Molly? Friend business trumps law enforcement.”
“I will. Gotta go.”
He disconnected and I relayed the conversation to Ida Belle and Gertie, who’d already figured out from my tone and just half the conversation that something was seriously wrong.
“Oh no,” Gertie said. “I hope something hasn’t happened to her.”
“I think we have to assume something has,” Ida Belle said. “Otherwise, why would she have made that phone call?”
“Maybe not,” I said. “The call was cutting in and out and this friend was trying to listen over engine noise. For all we know, Molly could have called her to talk about an upcoming cage match and then a statement like ‘he’s going to kill me’ takes on a whole different meaning.”
“What about the yelling?” Gertie asked.
“Someone passed too close or too fast in a boat,” I said. “Birds swooped down. Someone waved from across the lake. People yell in boats all the time.”
“I see your point,” Ida Belle said. “I’m just not sure Molly would ever admit that someone was going to get the best of her.”
“And why call in the middle of driving your boat?” Gertie asked. “Why not wait until she stopped when it was easier to talk? You have to be pretty worked up to try both at the same time.”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to believe that something bad had happened to Molly, but I couldn’t disagree with Ida Belle and Gertie either. The truth was, it sounded odd.
“We should go look f
or her,” Gertie said.
“Wouldn’t that be interfering with police business?” Ida Belle asked.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Last time I checked, taking a ride in a boat wasn’t a crime. Around here, people’s boats probably have more hours logged on them than cars.”
“Very true,” Gertie said and jumped up from the couch. “And a lot of people have been known to take a boat ride during hot weather to get some outside air but not sweat to death. If you guys wouldn’t mind hosing me down before we leave, that would be great.”
It actually didn’t sound bad, now that she’d mentioned it.
“Good idea,” I said as we headed outside. “If we get caught, we tell Carter we’re playing wet T-shirt contest.”
“As long as I get to win,” Gertie said.
“You’re not winning if Carter’s voting,” Ida Belle said.
Gertie shook her head. “The game is always rigged.”
“Only if you’re playing,” Ida Belle said. “Let’s get going. I’d like to think Molly can take care of herself and she just went boating for peace of mind or fishing for a new dish she thought up. But anybody can be got if the desire is strong enough.”
“And accidents can happen on boats,” Gertie said.
“Sort of an understatement coming from you,” Ida Belle said. “I’m surprised boats don’t flee when they see you coming.”
“Or insurance companies,” I said as I grabbed the hose.
Five minutes later, we were soaking wet and flying down the bayou. The water, which had felt like bathwater when it was hosed on, combined with Ida Belle’s driving speed, was now offering up a bit of cool. If I hadn’t been worried about Molly, I might have enjoyed myself.
Ida Belle had indicated that Molly’s property had a bayou out back where her dock was. That bayou fed into a larger channel that split off in a million directions, a few of which dumped into the lake. So we were going to scan the lake first, then start down that larger channel and hope that Carter wasn’t coming straight toward us. He couldn’t arrest us for boating, but no way he was going to buy our wet T-shirt story. He’d know exactly what we were doing.
