by Jana DeLeon
“Holy crap,” I said. “Dexter’s girlfriend was a competitive longbow shooter in high school.”
“You sure it’s her?” Gertie asked.
I turned my phone to show her the image. “Eyes like a rat, all arms and legs.”
“Glenn sure nailed that description,” Gertie said.
Ida Belle looked over at me, her eyes narrowed. “An arrow would explain why that hole in Molly’s boat didn’t go all the way through.”
I nodded. “And it explains the variation in pattern. The arrow wasn’t properly tuned. That’s why it had that bit of a run on the right side.”
“Longbow is smart,” Gertie said. “No sound. Gunshots aren’t uncommon around Sinful but they can attract the curious.”
“So she shoots Molly from the bank somewhere and then what?” Ida Belle said. “Molly falls overboard but then how did the hole in the boat get there?”
“Assuming Molly was taken out by an arrow, I can only guess there were two shots,” I said. “If the first missed and Molly turned to look at it when it struck the boat, then the second could have hit her square in the upper back and propelled her overboard, which would explain why there was only blood on the side of the boat and not in the bottom.”
“But there wasn’t an arrow in the boat,” Gertie said.
“She would have retrieved it,” Ida Belle said. “That way, people assumed the hole was made by a bullet. Everyone has a gun. A bullet hole doesn’t narrow things down just in case the cops started looking hard at Dexter and got around to her.”
“Okay,” Gertie said. “I’d buy it, but how do we prove it?”
“Great question,” I said and did another search. “Of course, I can’t find an address for her. But if we can pin down a location, I’d like to get a look at her.”
“What will that tell you?” Gertie asked.
“Maybe nothing,” I said.
“Maybe something,” Ida Belle said.
Ida Belle made quick work of the drive back to Silas’s hometown. The two men we’d seen before were still in front of the gas station in their chairs and perked up when we pulled in. As we climbed out of the SUV, they looked at each other, then began to rise.
It took a bit of time to accomplish and neither looked too steady on their feet, so I didn’t even bother with a threat assessment.
“Evening, ladies,” the first man said. “How can we help you?”
“We saw you earlier today,” the second man said. “You need help finding someplace?”
Since the first man had locked eyes on Ida Belle and seemed to have more than a passing interest, I figured I’d let her take the lead. I gave her a little nudge with my elbow and she smiled at them.
“No, thank you, gentlemen,” she said. “We found the place we were looking for but then we had a question or two about the man who lives there. I saw you when we passed and thought, I bet there’s two young men who have their fingers on the pulse of everything happening in this town. So we figured we’d come back and see if you could help us out.”
I wasn’t sure if calling them ‘young’ or telling them they had their fingers on the pulse of everything clinched it, but either way, it was clear from their expressions that Ida Belle had this one in the bag.
“Well, we’re happy to help you ladies out if we can,” the second man said. “I’m Jeb and this is my brother Wyatt. Who did you visit earlier?”
“Silas Broussard,” Ida Belle said.
Wyatt whistled. “I hope it wasn’t a long drive for you because Lord, trying to talk to that man is a waste of time.”
“Not to mention it can be bad for your health if he’s feeling that trigger finger,” Jeb said.
“What can you tell us about him?” Ida Belle asked.
“Man’s a—” Wyatt started.
“Now, now,” Jeb interrupted. “There’s ladies present. Let’s just say Silas doesn’t have many redeeming qualities.”
“Doesn’t have any far as I’m concerned,” Wyatt said. “Man’s mean as a snake and sneaky as a feral cat. Treated his wife and kids so bad they all run away as soon as they could.”
“Have you heard that his daughter recently disappeared?” Ida Belle asked.
Both their eyes widened and they shook their heads.
“Molly? What happened?” Wyatt asked.
Ida Belle explained that Molly had gone out on her boat and never returned and it was found floating loose but without any sign of her.
“Well, that’s just horrible,” Jeb said. “That Molly was a good girl. My granddaughter was a tiny little thing—used to get picked on at school until Molly found out. She set them bad ’uns straight and my granddaughter never had any more problems.”
Wyatt nodded. “Both those kids turned out good, especially considering the uphill battle they had.”
“I don’t suppose either of you saw Silas two days ago?” Ida Belle asked.
They both frowned and scrunched their brows.
“That was chili night at the VFW,” Wyatt said.
“No, that was the night before,” Jeb said. “Two nights ago was lasagna.”
Wyatt made a face. “That’s right. We always skip lasagna night. Gives us heartburn. So that means we were sitting right here, having day-old hot dogs and Frito Pie with spiced relish.”
“Because that doesn’t give you heartburn,” I said.
“Of course not,” Jeb said. “And as a matter of fact, we did see Silas. He was headed toward the highway that afternoon.”
“You’re sure it was him?” Ida asked.
“Positive,” Wyatt said. “Needs a new muffler on that truck of his. Thing’s so loud you can hear him coming from a mile away. Probably hasn’t done a lick of maintenance on it since he inherited it.”
I made a mental note. They must be talking about Johnny’s truck.
“Do you remember what time that was?” Ida Belle asked.
“Before two for sure,” Wyatt said. “We watch our soap opera at two.”
“Did you see him return?” Ida Belle asked.
They both shook their heads.
“Got our beer shipment in after the soap opera,” Jeb said. “We were probably inside stocking.”
“Thanks,” Ida Belle said. “I really appreciate it.”
“Can we ask what this is about?” Wyatt asked. “I mean, we don’t have any allegiance to Silas—no one does—so we don’t mind answering your questions. But I’m curious.”
Ida Belle looked at me so I jumped in.
“We’re investigators looking into the circumstances surrounding Molly’s disappearance. You know how insurance companies hire out sometimes.”
Neither of them looked like they completely understood but both nodded.
“Anyway, we’re collecting data for a report,” I said. “And one of the things we need to know is the whereabouts of any of Molly’s relatives who lived in the area during the time when she disappeared.”
Jeb stared. “The insurance thinks he killed her. Well, I’ll be a son of a gun.”
“I didn’t say that,” I said. “Insurance companies are like the government. There’s all kinds of red tape to process before they handle claims. They pay people like us to make sure everything is thorough.”
“If you say so,” Jeb said, looking slightly disappointed. I assumed he was hoping we were going to find Silas guilty of something and haul him out of the bayou in handcuffs.
“I’m curious about something myself,” I said. “Do you think Johnny’s death was an accident?”
“I knew it,” Jeb said. “You do think he killed her.”
“When two children of the same man both die under similar and somewhat questionable circumstances, we’re required to do a little extra footwork,” I said.
Both men frowned.
“It does seem rather odd,” Wyatt said. “I guess truth be known everyone round here was shocked as heck that Johnny got caught out by a storm. He was smarter than that. One of the best shrimpers around and he knew
his way around the bayous and his boat. A lot of us found it hard to believe that he got caught unawares.”
Jeb nodded. “But we saw him drive by headed toward the marina and a fisherman saw him at the boat dock so it seemed like that’s what happened.”
“Did Johnny still live with Silas?” I asked, a little surprised.
“No,” Wyatt said. “He and Angel lived in an old house she inherited from an aunt of hers. It’s just down the road a bit. Angel sold it after Johnny passed and moved to New Orleans. I can’t say that I blame her.”
“You didn’t happen to see Silas pass by that day, did you?” I asked.
They both shook their heads.
“According to the police, Silas was on the phone yelling at the tax assessor right about the time Johnny was headed for the marina,” Wyatt said.
“And Johnny didn’t have any enemies?” I asked.
“Good Lord no,” Wyatt said. “Johnny Broussard was as nice a guy as they make. The only person that had a problem with Johnny was Silas, and that’s because he has a problem with everybody.”
“Was the problem specific?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Not sure of the particulars, but word had it that Silas was always hitting Johnny up for money. I think in the beginning, Johnny obliged some—that whole he’s-your-father argument. But as he got older and wiser, he wasn’t so obliging. Mind you, he had no reason to be. If your parents are good people and you have the means, then of course you should help out when you can, but Silas wasn’t due anything from Johnny.”
“Except maybe a thousand butt whuppings to even the score,” Jeb said.
“That’s the God’s honest truth,” Wyatt said.
“So I understand that when Johnny went missing, Silas got all his things,” I said. “You hear anything about that?”
“Oh yeah, we heard it,” Wyatt said. “Silas had been behind on his property taxes for a coon’s age. The town thought they were finally going to get rid of him and it all be legal and such. Then Johnny passed and he had cash from Johnny’s accounts and the sale of the boat. He kept the truck, paid himself up regular on the taxes, and that was that.”
“Why wasn’t he paying his taxes?” Gertie asked. “They can’t be much on a place like his. And since he’s living mostly off-grid, Social Security should cover his expenses.”
“There’s two places Silas goes every week,” Wyatt said. “He buys staples he can’t grow, hunt, or fish at the Walmart up the highway. Won’t buy anything local. Says he won’t pay the markup.”
“And the second place?” I asked.
“A bookie in New Orleans,” Jeb said.
“Which explains why he got behind on his taxes,” I said. “You sure about that?”
“There’s been people come here looking for Silas a couple times,” Wyatt said. “We knew what they were when they showed up, so we just directed them to his place and didn’t try to start conversations. Safer that way, you know?”
Jeb nodded. “Had a cousin who got mixed up in that business. His wife ended up burying him before his fortieth birthday. That’s not the sort of people you get crossways with.”
“And two days ago—was that grocery or gambling day?” I asked.
“Neither,” Wyatt said. “No idea what he was doing.”
And suddenly, a thought occurred to me.
“Is Silas behind on his property taxes now?” I asked.
“Matter of fact, he’s three years behind now,” Jeb said. “They were talking about starting legal proceedings again.”
I looked over at Ida Belle and Gertie. “Let’s grab some cold drinks and snacks for the ride home.”
I knew the two men wouldn’t take money from me in exchange for the information, but I also knew they were probably living on Social Security or some minimal retirement. Buying some snacks was at least one way I could pass some money their way.
Ten minutes later, we were headed for the highway, munching on stale potato chips and drinking flat root beer.
“Well, that was interesting,” Gertie said.
“It most certainly was,” Ida Belle said.
I nodded. “Ladies, I think we might have two cases to investigate.”
We’d just reached the highway when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number. I pulled it out and answered.
“Ms. Redding? This is Glenn,” he said, his voice somewhat muffled.
“Yes. Hello.”
“You’re not going to believe who just walked into the bar.”
“Dexter and his girlfriend,” I said.
“You got it. And neither of them looks overly happy.”
“I’m about twenty minutes away. Do you think they’ll stay that long?”
“I don’t know. They were arguing about money when I went over to take their order so probably not.”
“Give them a discount,” I said. “I’ll make up the difference.”
“I’m not worried about the money,” he said. “What is it you plan to do?”
“I’m still thinking about that one,” I said.
I disconnected and told Ida Belle to head back to The Bar.
“Are you going to confront him with the girlfriend?” Gertie asked.
“No,” I said. “I don’t want to tip our hand.”
Gertie sighed. “Yeah, I guess that wouldn’t be smart. But man, I bet it would be interesting.”
“Glenn’s lost enough windows today,” I said.
“It’s going to be hard to do anything besides get a look at them,” Ida Belle said. “We can’t go in the bar. The place is tiny and Dexter knows all three of us. He’d know we were following him.”
“But he might not know your vehicle,” I said. “We were in my Jeep when we went to Ally’s that day. So unless he looked outside when we dropped off the catering money, he doesn’t know what you drive.”
“That’s true,” Ida Belle said. “So we might be able to follow them when they leave.”
“But what’s that going to tell us?” Gertie asked.
“For starters, I can get some pictures of them together,” I said. “Which will help the DA with the motive end of things. And if we know where they’re staying, then it will make it easier on Carter when he needs to arrest him.”
“So you think Dexter’s our guy?” Gertie asked.
“He’s certainly at the top of the list,” I said. “I just can’t make sense of his timing.”
Ida Belle nodded. “Seems like if Molly was really going to make him a partner, he would wait to kill her after the ink was dry.”
“And the heated-moment thing doesn’t work if she was shot with an arrow,” Gertie said. “Dexter’s girlfriend would have to be on hand for that sort of thing and with her weapon. Based on her phone call to Angel, it sounded like Molly went off in her boat to take a breather, so Dexter couldn’t have known she was going.”
“Which is why I’d like to know where this girlfriend is holed up,” I said. “I need to know if she was close enough to take advantage of a random opportunity or if this was somehow planned.”
“If it was planned, it wasn’t a very good plan,” Gertie said.
“Have you met Dexter?” Ida Belle asked.
“I know, I know,” Gertie said. “Most criminals are dumb and we should be thankful, but it’s hard to be thankful when you knew the victim.”
“We’re going to find out what happened,” I said. “And if someone killed Molly—which is what it looks like—then they’re going to pay. We’ll make sure of it. And I know that doesn’t fix things but it sure makes them easier to live with.”
Ida Belle circled the block around The Bar, then spotted a parking spot on the next block but with a clear view of the door. I pulled out my phone and called Glenn, who verified they were still there but looking as if they were about to wrap things up.
“Looks like we got here just in time,” I said when I hung up.
We watched the entrance and about five minutes later, Dexter and a young blonde came walkin
g out. I snapped some shots of them crossing the road.
“Here we go,” Ida Belle said as they climbed into an old white Hyundai with a rusted roof.
“That’s not Dexter’s truck,” I said. “It must belong to her.”
“Well, let’s hope she’s not a crazy driver,” Ida Belle said.
Gertie snorted. “Like you’d have trouble keeping up.”
“I could keep up with NASCAR drivers,” Ida Belle said. “But not without them noticing.”
“Hopefully she’ll take it easy since they were drinking,” I said.
Ida Belle and Gertie both stared at me. I couldn’t blame them. Dating Dexter was proof alone that the woman wasn’t all that bright, and if she’d been involved in a murder plot then that was additional points off her IQ. But then, by all accounts, Molly had been smart and she’d kept Dexter around even though she knew the score. For all we knew, Rat Eyes could have bigger self-esteem problems than Molly did, but I was betting the drug problem was her primary motivator.
We saw the brake lights flash on, then the car lurched forward, hit the curb, rolled off of it, and kept going. Ida Belle waited until they were at the end of the block, then started after them. Marissa took a straight route to the highway and headed toward Sinful. Ida Belle entered the highway some distance behind her but since it was flat and straight, it was easy to keep the car in our sights without getting close enough to call attention. Fortunately, Marissa was driving barely above the speed limit, and occasionally a random vehicle or delivery truck passed both of us. It looked like any evening on the highway.
“Surely they’re not going to Molly’s house,” Gertie said as we got closer and closer to Sinful.
“I wouldn’t think so,” I said. “Look, she’s got her blinker on.”
“And we all know that exit,” Ida Belle said.
It was a familiar one to us because it contained the closest motel to Sinful. And it was the height of seedy. It was also only maybe a ten-minute drive to Molly’s house.
Chapter Fifteen
