Jana DeLeon - Miss Fortune 05 - Gator Bait

by Jana DeLeon

  “What do you think happened?” Walter asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

  “I don’t know,” Ida Belle said.

  Walter glanced over at her and frowned. “Don’t give me that crap. You three have been up to your eyeballs in every criminal act that’s happened in the last month. You must have some idea what’s going on. This is Carter, damn it.”

  His voice broke on the last words and my heart clenched. I knew Carter’s dad had died when he was young, but I didn’t know the details. I had always gotten the impression that Walter viewed him more as a son than a nephew. I couldn’t begin to imagine how worried he was.

  “We really don’t know anything,” I said. “I swear.”

  “She’s telling the truth,” Gertie said. “If we had any idea who did this to Carter, we would have skipped out of the hospital, stolen a car, and popped a cap in them.”

  Walter looked at her in the rearview mirror and gave her a small smile. “I believe you would. What does it say about me that I wish you could have?”

  “It means you love Carter,” Ida Belle said. “We all do. If there’s anything we can do to fix this, we will. You have my word.”

  Walter looked over at Ida Belle and nodded. “If it were anyone else, I would ask you not to, but this time…this time, I’ll only ask that you be very, very careful.”

  I watched his expression shift as he looked at Ida Belle, then away, and realized that in that brief look, he had conveyed so much—his desire for justice for Carter, his concern for the three of us, and the enormous conflict going on inside him as he felt he was risking one for the other.

  Oh my God. I was actually getting good at this. The whole girl/emotion thing.

  I frowned. Was that good or bad? Logically, having an emotional side would be a hindrance at my job, but then, I didn’t have deep feelings for anyone I worked with. I liked Deputy Morrow and Hadley and I probably even liked Harrison more than I was willing to admit, but none of them tugged at me.

  I let out a breath of relief. Thank God. At least I didn’t have to find a new job when this whole fiasco with Ahmad was over.

  “Are you all right?” Gertie asked.

  “Yeah. Just tired.”

  She patted my hand and leaned over toward me. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered. “What you did was extraordinary, and I don’t believe anyone else could have done it.”

  “Why do you say that?” I knew I had skills far beyond those of the typical woman, but I wasn’t the only person equipped to handle such a recovery.

  “Not for the reason you’re thinking. It’s because of your connection with Carter. I don’t think anyone else could have found him, assuming they had even been willing to try. That far under the surface, visibility must have been zero. I believe it was your emotional tie to Carter that led you to him. That led you to save him.”

  She sniffed and reached for her purse, pulling out a tissue.

  I watched as she dabbed the tears from her eyes, but didn’t say a word. I could have told her that I could make out shapes. That my training included deep sea diving and recovery, and I’d been taught to look for shapes rather than individual objects. Instead, I gave her hand a squeeze. If Gertie wanted to believe in some sort of karmic magic that saved people you cared about, who was I to spoil it for her?

  “Don’t go sniffling now,” Ida Belle said. “Carter’s going to be fine and we’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

  I nodded. “I hope he remembers everything.”

  “Oh!” Gertie’s eyes widened. “I didn’t even think about that, but with a concussion, he may have lost some of his memory.”

  “It’s usually temporary,” I said, “but the sooner he can provide details, the better.” I left the rest unsaid. We all knew that timing was a key component in catching criminals. The sooner you could set out on their trail, the more likely you were to find them.

  It was long past dark when Walter pulled into my driveway, and my house was lit up inside and out.

  Gertie shook her head. “That girl needs to talk to someone about that stalking mess. The repairs to her house will be finished soon, and it’s far more isolated than yours.”

  I frowned. It had never crossed my mind that all the lights were on because Ally was afraid. I’d figured she was distracted by what happened to Carter and with cooking and simply forgot, but now that Gertie mentioned it, I realized lights were on in all the upstairs rooms, even the ones no one used.

  “I’ll talk to her,” I said as I climbed out of the car. “Are you guys coming in?”

  “Not tonight,” Ida Belle said. “We all need to get some rest. We’ll regroup at your house first thing in the morning.”

  I nodded and closed the door. In the morning, Ally would be at work and Walter wouldn’t be sitting next to Ida Belle. We’d be able to speak freely and make plans that it was probably far better others didn’t know.

  Before I could even slip my key into the lock, Ally flung open the door and threw her arms around me. “Gertie told me what you did. You could have been killed.”

  “But I wasn’t,” I said, hoping the hugging part was over soon. My bruises did not appreciate all the attention.

  Ally let go of me and sniffed. “And you saved Carter.” She waved me inside and immediately locked the door and drew the dead bolt. She paused to peek out the living room blinds before heading to the kitchen, and that was when I noticed she had a butcher knife in her hand. I trudged behind her, worried that Ally’s fear was worse than even Gertie had imagined.

  “Sit,” Ally ordered. “You look like you’re ready to drop, but you haven’t eaten since breakfast. So food first, then shower and bed. I was just about to check the pot roast.” She waved the knife and I felt a bit of relief pass over me. Maybe she wasn’t completely gone.

  She opened the oven and gave the pot roast a peek then filled a huge bowl with soup. When she placed it in front of me, my mouth watered as the smell of potatoes and herbs wafted up to my nose.

  “Baked potato. My favorite.” I took my first bite and almost sobbed. The creamy, cheesy sauce might have been the best thing I’d ever eaten in my life. “You should be awarded a medal or something.”

  Ally smiled. “It’s good, but you’re also starving.” She prepared herself a bowl and sat across from me. “You were out cold when I was at the hospital. Are you feeling all right…I mean, considering?”

  “Yeah. My body feels like I was jumped by a street gang, and I have a nagging headache that seems to almost go away then pop back up, but given everything that could have gone wrong, I’m lucky this is the worst of it.”

  “Do you have any idea what happened?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think we’re going to know for sure until Carter wakes up.”

  Ally dropped her spoon in her bowl and it clanged on the side of the dish. “What is going on in this town? It used to be so mundane and uninteresting and…safe. I don’t understand.”

  I lowered my spoon. “Are you worried about moving back into your house alone?”

  Her eyes widened a bit and she opened her mouth, then closed it. After a couple of seconds of silence, she finally sighed. “I guess I am. I’m fine when I’m there looking at the repair progress. It’s really all going to be quite lovely and my new kitchen is going to be fabulous—practically gourmet. But then I start thinking about being there after dark, and this knot forms in my stomach.”

  “I wish I had answers for you,” I said. “I don’t know what’s happening here. It seems like an awful lot of issues for such a small place, but maybe when the first thing happened, the rest just fell in line. Like dominoes.”

  “More like a loose thread on a knitted blanket. Before you know it, the entire thing is unraveling.”

  I frowned. Unraveling was a particularly accurate description of what seemed to be happening in Sinful. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt that my arrival seemed to have set it all in motion. If Bones hadn’t dug up part of Marie’s missing h
usband, maybe none of this would have happened.

  “Don’t even go there,” Ally said, pointing her finger at me.

  “What?”

  “You were thinking it’s all your fault because it started with that bone, but that’s not true. You just happened to be there. You didn’t cause any of it.”

  “Yeah, I guess not.”

  “The pot roast should be ready. Do you want more soup?”

  “No. Now that I’m not starving, I think I’ll take a quick shower before the roast.”

  “Good idea.”

  I rose from the table and headed upstairs, my aching body protesting with every step. When I entered my bedroom, I walked over to the window and opened the blinds, looking out across the neighborhood. Pretty houses with beautiful landscaping all in neat little rows. It didn’t look at all like the place where someone would shoot a deputy and leave him to drown.

  What the hell was going on in Sinful?

  ###

  It wasn’t even 7:00 a.m. when I heard banging on my front door. I kicked my legs over the side of the bed, groaning as every muscle in my body protested. The banging started up again, making my head pound, so I headed downstairs as quickly as my thighs allowed me to go. I’d barely gotten the front door unlocked before Ida Belle and Gertie pushed the door open and rushed inside.

  “We got trouble,” Ida Belle said.

  I felt my back tighten. “Did something happen to Carter?”

  “No, he’s fine,” Gertie said. “Physically, anyway. He’s awake, but someone else got to him first.”

  “What do you mean?” Maybe it was the early hour, or my pounding head, but I hoped someone got to the point soon.

  “Feds,” Ida Belle said. “Emmaline stayed at the hospital last night. She said two men in dark suits showed up in the middle of the night, demanding to see Carter. She told them in no uncertain terms that the first person to see Carter this morning would be his doctor and the next was her.”

  “What agency are they with?”

  Ida Belle shook her head. “They didn’t offer any ID, but I know the type—black suits, tight butts, sunglasses indoors. Emmaline said they backed down after she came at them, but they returned at five a.m. She caught them trying to sneak down the hall to Carter’s room and sent them packing again.”

  “It doesn’t make sense to me,” Gertie said. “Why would Feds care about a small-town deputy getting shot?”

  “They wouldn’t,” I said, “unless they think he stepped in the middle of something big and that’s what got him shot.”

  Ida Belle and Gertie glanced at each other, their concern apparent. “That’s what I figured,” Ida Belle said. “But I was hoping you had a different idea.”

  “I’m afraid not,” I said. “If they’re interested in Carter, then that means they think the shooting had something to do with their case. All Feds care about is their case. And they’re highly protective of any other law enforcement creeping in. They pretty much think anyone who isn’t a Fed is an idiot. Add small town to that, and it’s even worse.”

  “Which means they’ll be barking orders and keeping everything to themselves,” Ida Belle said. “I don’t like it. Their goals will have nothing to do with catching whoever shot Carter—at least, not for shooting Carter.”

  “No. They will think whatever they’re working on is far more important than one small-town deputy.”

  “They’re wrong,” Gertie said. “And they suck.”

  Ida Belle raised an eyebrow.

  “Just sayin’,” Gertie grumbled.

  Ida Belle put her hands on her hips. “We’ve worked our way around Feds before. We can do it again.”

  “True,” I said, but we’d gotten lucky the last time. The Feds hadn’t really locked onto the three of us as suspects, so they’d never had any reason to run my background. But with Carter being shot, and us being…close…or whatever, they might take a harder look. I figured my fake identity was good enough for regular law enforcement scrutiny, but I wasn’t so sure it would hold up to a federal check.

  “I have to be really careful with this one,” I said.

  Ida Belle’s eyes widened. “Crap! I hadn’t even thought about that. We’ll play it cool—the concerned friends and new girlfriend. Play the cute ditzy blonde and they won’t take a second look at you.”

  “Ditzy?” I shook my head. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I barely manage capable librarian. Ditzy is so far out of my element it’s not even in this universe.” I sighed. “But if it means finding out who tried to kill Carter, then I guess I’ll manage.”

  Gertie smiled. “That’s the spirit. Now, get upstairs and put on something girlie—I’m thinking the yellow sundress. And put your hair in a ponytail. It makes you look younger, which means less experience and knowledge.”

  “And be fast about it,” Ida Belle said. “We’ve got to get to the hospital. Emmaline can’t keep the Feds away from Carter forever. We need to talk to him first.”

  “I’ll fix us some breakfast for the road,” Gertie said, and headed for the kitchen.

  I dashed upstairs and made a quick change into my girl persona, even slipping bright pink lip gloss into my purse to don after breakfast. I’d thought the color horrid when Gertie selected it, but it was perfect for what I needed to do. I gave myself a final look in the full-length mirror and hurried downstairs, saying a quick prayer as I went.

  We were going to need all the help we could get.

  ###

  Emmaline jumped up from her chair when we entered the hospital waiting room and gave Ida Belle a hug.

  “They’re sitting in the corner by the plant,” she whispered.

  I appreciated the effort, but didn’t need her to point them out. In a rural area hospital, black suits and sunglasses looked completely out of place. Clearly, they’d been watching too many movies.

  Two of them. First one six feet even, 185 pounds. Second one six feet two, 200 pounds. Needed to lose a few pounds, but both in decent shape. Bummer.

  Emmaline gave Gertie and me quick hugs, then motioned us to the side. “The nurse said Dr. Stewart is in with Carter now. I’m praying we get to see him.”

  “Is he awake?” I asked.

  Emmaline nodded. “The nurse said he was awake for fairly long spurts during the night. I slipped back there once to take a peek, but he was sleeping then. I didn’t want to wake him.”

  “Of course not,” Ida Belle said. “He needs his rest, and besides, Dr. Stewart will let you see Carter before he turns a couple of Feds loose on him.”

  “Do you think so?” Emmaline asked.

  “Definitely,” Gertie said. “Otherwise, he’d be giving up his official Southerner card.”

  The waiting room door opened and Dr. Stewart stepped into the room. The two Feds jumped up from their chairs and flashed their badges at him. I hurried over to see the badge, but they closed their wallets quickly and shoved them back in their pockets.

  “We need to speak to Mr. LeBlanc immediately,” the first Fed said.

  Dr. Stewart glanced over at Emmaline, then looked back at the Feds. “He’s my patient. I’ll say who speaks to him and who doesn’t. He’s asking for his family and friends.”

  “I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation,” the second Fed argued.

  “And I don’t think you understand Southern hierarchy. Mothers are always first. Anything else could get you shot.” He winked at Emmaline and waved us toward the door.

  “He’s still weak,” Dr. Stewart said as we walked down the hallway, “but doing quite well given his condition. There is still a good bit of swelling, but it’s decreased significantly since yesterday. I don’t anticipate any long-term effects. I’d like to keep him another day for some additional tests and observation. If he’s raising too much hell and the swelling is gone, I might be convinced to release him tonight, but only if he has someone staying with him.”

  “I think you can pretty much count on the raising hell part,” I s
aid.

  Emmaline smiled. “You know my son well.” She looked at Dr. Stewart. “Once you release him, he’ll insist on going to his own house, but I’ll insist on staying there for as long as you think I should.”

  We stopped in front of a door and Dr. Stewart turned to face us. “He got banged around quite a bit, so his appearance will be somewhat distressing. But I assure you, the surface injuries are just that and will fade quickly.”

  Emmaline took a deep breath and pushed the door open, Ida Belle close behind as she entered the room. I hesitated and grabbed Dr. Stewart’s sleeve as he started to walk away.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “but those men in the lobby. Who were they?”

  Dr. Stewart shrugged. “I didn’t bother to look at their ID, but Feds, if I had to guess. I’m certain the government issues them all the same suits and superior attitude.”

  “Oh,” I said, working up my best surprised look. “What in the world could they want with Carter?”

  “No telling,” Dr. Stewart said, “but don’t worry. I’ll have my nurse keep them from barging in for as long as she can.” He gave Gertie and me a nod and headed down the hallway for the front desk—probably to instruct the nurse to stall the Feds. He looked almost happy at the prospect.

  “I’ve decided I like Dr. Stewart,” I said.

  “Me too. And I have an idea.”

  Uh-oh. Gertie’s ideas never worked out the way she thought they would.

  She pointed to the door across from Carter’s room with “Cleaning Supplies” stenciled on the front. “I’m going to grab some supplies and head to the lobby. If the nurse aggravates the Feds enough, they may let slip why they’re here.”

  I stared at her, fairly certain that this time she really had lost her mind. “That will never work. They just saw you with the rest of us in the waiting room.”

  She waved a hand in dismissal. “Please. Young people never pay attention to seniors. They glance long enough to classify us as ‘old’ and move on.”