by DeLeon, Jana
“Thanks. I must have forgotten it.”
He started down the steps, then paused and sniffed the air. “Smells like someone’s burning trash again.” He shook his head and headed across the lawn to his truck. I waited until he’d driven off, then ran outside to close the garage door. It was a good thing he hadn’t gotten any closer to it or he would have realized it was the source of the smell—sort of a cross between burned chicken, vanilla, and Febreze.
I hurried back inside, closing and locking the door behind me, then headed into the living room and flopped back down on the couch. My living room floor was still littered with dollar bills, but the television was off and Gertie had taken a seat and was plowing through the chips and dip.
“That went well,” I said.
The others looked at me for a couple of seconds, then glanced at each other.
“What?” I finally asked when no one replied.
Ally gave me a sheepish look. “I’m sorry he was so rude to you. That must have hurt your feelings.”
I scanned their faces. “Is that what this is about? Good Lord, do you people know me at all? He pissed me off all right, but I assure you, not a single feeling was injured in the exchange.”
But even as I said the words, I knew they weren’t entirely true. Sure, I’d been mad, but there was more to it than that. I had felt a pinch when I’d thought his opinion of me had diminished. Granted, I should have been happy if it had. The bigger the risk Carter thought I presented to his reputation and his job stability, the less likely he’d be to ask me out again. Then I wouldn’t have to tell him “no” when I really meant “yes.”
“If you say so,” Ally said, “but I still think he was harsh.”
“He’s a man,” Gertie said. “And a young one at that. He’ll put his foot in his mouth a lot more times before he departs this earth.”
Ida Belle nodded. “Seems almost a requirement, really. With everything that’s happened the past couple of weeks and now the arson situation, he’s stressed. Everyone knows Sheriff Lee is decades past when he should have retired, and they’re all watching every move Carter makes so when the vote comes up, they know where they stand.”
I sighed. “And we’re not making it any easier on him, are we?”
“No,” Ally said. “You’re not and that’s why this has to stop. Given the way you returned tonight, I knew something had happened.” She looked at Ida Belle. “Fortune told me Floyd tried to kill you. Is that true?”
“He was chasing us,” Ida Belle said. “I can’t swear he was trying to kill us.”
Ally shook her head. “So he was chasing a motorcycle in a huge, fast pickup truck, on a narrow road. And just how close did he get to you?”
“I was too busy driving to look,” Ida Belle said.
I shook my head. “Your rearview mirrors were so full of headlights that you couldn’t see in them. I’m not going to lie about Floyd’s clear intentions when Ally lives next door to him. Even if he’s not our arsonist, he’s clearly unhinged, and Ally needs to know by just how much.”
Ida Belle sighed. “You’re right. I just don’t want her worrying about us, but she needs to know that Floyd is more of a loose cannon than we originally thought, even if he’s not the arsonist. Let me give Myrtle a call and see if he was in the tank in New Orleans the night of the fire. That will answer one question, at least.”
She pulled out her cell phone and made the call. “Myrtle’s checking now.”
I nodded and lifted a slat on the blinds behind my couch to peer out into the darkness. If Floyd wasn’t the arsonist, then that meant someone else in Sinful had an ulterior motive or was an unhinged as Floyd was. And where did the creeper fit into all of this? Floyd had seemed such a simple answer for everything, but I had a feeling things were much more complicated than I wanted them to be.
Ida Belle’s cell phone rang and she answered, taking only a couple of seconds before disconnecting. “It’s confirmed. Floyd was in the clink in New Orleans until eight the next morning. He’s not our arsonist.”
Ally rose from the couch. “Look, I appreciate everything you guys have done, but you have to stop. None of you are qualified to tangle with criminals. All Fortune did was invite me to stay in her house a few days, and she’s already got a creeper lurking around. Tonight, the two of you could have been run down by Floyd or shot by Farmer Frank.”
“But we weren’t,” Ida Belle said.
Ally threw her arms in the air. “You’re a librarian and two long-retired average citizens. When are you going to realize that the only reason you’re still sitting here is because you’ve been really lucky? Do you think I want your deaths on my conscience? I’m asking you as friends to please stop and let Carter do his job.”
I glanced at Ida Belle and Gertie, who shuffled uncomfortably in their chairs.
“Fortune?” Ally prompted.
“Fine. I promise not to put myself at risk again, but I’m still going to watch everyone closely and listen.”
Ida Belle shook her head. “Gertie and I will do our best to stay out of trouble, but I can’t promise you that it will happen. We were poking our nose into Sinful business long before Fortune arrived—actually, before you were even born. It’s like asking us not to breathe.”
Ally sighed. “If that’s the best I can get, then it will have to do.” She looked at me. “The insurance adjuster said they’re sending a crew to secure the kitchen wall tomorrow morning. He thinks I should be able to move back into the house by tomorrow evening.”
“I think you should stay here,” I said, “at least until Carter knows more.”
“If I stay here, it keeps you in the middle of this mess and on the outs with Carter. I don’t want that on my conscience either.” She yawned. “It’s been a long day and I haven’t been sleeping very well. I’m going to go to bed. Try not to cause any trouble while I’m sleeping.”
I watched as Ally trudged upstairs, then motioned to Ida Belle and Gertie. “Recon in the kitchen,” I whispered. “Voices in the living room carry upstairs.”
We headed into the kitchen and took up our usual seats at the table. “So what do you guys think?” I asked.
“Did you find out anything else at the bar?” Ida Belle asked.
“Nothing that seems to matter. There was some weird dude in the bar who Billy said was also looking for Floyd, but that could be anything or nothing.” I gave them a description of the guy, but it didn’t ring any bells with them.
“Did you get the guy’s name?” Ida Belle asked.
I shrugged. “All Billy knew was Marco, but I’m not sure Billy is the most reliable source.”
“Probably not,” Gertie said. “His mother dropped him on his head when he was a baby.”
“I thought baby’s heads were pretty tough.”
“She was on top of the water tower.”
I grimaced. “Okay. Anyway, we’re back to square one.”
That wasn’t technically true, but I didn’t want to tell them about the sketchy real estate agent until I’d talked to Ally and gotten some more information. If the guy turned out to be on the up-and-up, putting Ida Belle and Gertie on his scent would be like unleashing the hounds of hell on the guy.
“What are we going to do about Ally moving back home?” Gertie asked. “It’s not safe for her there.”
“I know,” I said, “but she thinks she’s putting me at risk by staying here. If I were really Sandy-Sue, librarian and regular girl, she’d be right.”
Ida Belle nodded. “We can’t exactly blame her for her stance. She cares about all of us and would feel responsible if something happened while we were helping her. Without any knowledge of our real qualifications, she’s going to assume that we’re at a complete disadvantage.”
“Maybe this time, she’s right.”
###
I tossed and turned most of the night—the time I didn’t spend pacing, anyway—upsetting Merlin with every flop I made in another direction. He seemed to think I was in
tentionally ruining his sleep. From all appearances, he slept a good twenty-two hours out of the day, so I didn’t feel even remotely sorry for disturbing him. It wasn’t as if he had a big workday ahead of him or anything. In fact, given that he used to reside outside, living inside with me was pretty much a permanent vacation.
All night, I kept one eye and ear open, in a state of semi-slumber, wondering if the creeper would return. I hoped that my shooting Carter the night before was enough to warn him away, and maybe I’d been right. But what about when Ally went home? She assumed the creeper was after her because he’d started up when she came to stay with me, but that wasn’t necessarily the case.
Since I’d been in Sinful, I’d made a few enemies—family and friends of those I’d helped send to prison and a few who might have died in the process of criminal activity. It was quite possible that one of those disgruntled few might try to take action against me.
Or it could be Ahmad.
I bolted straight up in bed, startling Merlin out of a dead sleep. He bolted out of the room and I was left alone with my heart pounding so hard that it felt as if my chest would burst open. I sucked in a huge breath, then slowly released it, concentrating on slowing my pulse.
Where the hell had that come from?
With all the things that had gone down these past few weeks in Sinful, it had never once crossed my mind that Ahmad was behind any of it. Why did he pop into my mind now? There was no way Ahmad or any of his men were the creeper. If any of Ahmad’s crew came to Sinful, I’d be dead within minutes and they’d be gone without a trace. They wouldn’t lower themselves to lurking outside of windows. They would simply make quick work of the lock, slip silently inside, and smother me in my sleep.
I glanced at the alarm clock. Five a.m. Even if I thought I could manage it, there was no use going back to sleep. In fact, until things got back to normal—whatever the hell that was—it was probably in my best interest to sleep during the day so that I could be on alert at night. Especially if Ally moved back home. No way was I letting her sit inside that house without protection. She may be able to refuse me entry, but she would never see me keeping watch from the swamp behind her house.
I threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, my muscles protesting a bit at the speed at which I elected to stand. I rubbed my thighs and biceps for a bit, mortified that my physical conditioning had been put to the test by high heels and a senior citizen on a motorcycle.
I threw on shorts, headed to the kitchen, and flipped the switch on the coffeepot. I always prepped it the night before so I could get that first cup as quickly and with as little effort as possible. After I’d completed the heavy lifting of pushing the button, I flopped down at the kitchen table and opened my laptop, accessing the secret email I used to communicate with my CIA partner, Ben Harrison, and typed a message.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
How are things in NE? Everything is business as usual here on the farm. It’s a warm summer, but I’m doing my best to stay cool. How is the heat in NE? I know it was hot before, but I’m hoping you get a break in the weather soon.
I’m looking forward to seeing you this fall.
Email or call when you get a chance.
I hit Send and closed the laptop. Even though the only people who knew about the email accounts were Harrison and me, and he only accessed the account on a spare laptop that bounced his proxy around so that it couldn’t be traced back to him, we still talked in code. The weather was the easiest way to convey how the Ahmad situation was going. Hot meant things were still too bad for me to return home. What I hoped to see was an email telling me it was cooling off.
It would probably be a while before Harrison replied, so I opened the back door and strolled outside. Bits and pieces of my azalea bushes were scattered across the backyard, casualties of the motorcycle hiding and unhiding. I wondered briefly if Ida Belle would ditch the bike now that Carter was looking for it, but she was so cagey about most things that I bet she would keep it and deny the chicken coop incident until death.
I stepped down onto the lawn and walked the hedges down the side of the house, looking for any sign of passage. I’d raked the dirt in front of and behind the bushes the day before. If anyone had stepped on the loose dirt, the prints would show, but the dirt was undisturbed. I felt a bit of the tension leave my shoulder and neck. Maybe the rock salt fiasco had scared the creeper away, at least from my house. Now my concern would be protecting Ally in her own house.
I headed back inside, itching for that cup of coffee, and was surprised to find Ally in the kitchen, getting coffee cups out of the cabinet. “I thought you worked the lunch shift today,” I said.
“I do.” She poured the coffee and handed me a cup before sitting at the table. “I couldn’t sleep any longer.”
Dark circles had settled under her eyes, and even her movement screamed how exhausted she was. I felt guilty about adding to her strain. “I’m really sorry we upset you last night. I had no idea things would get that out of control.”
Ally gave me a small smile. “With Ida Belle and Gertie involved, you can almost always bet that things won’t go quietly into that good night.”
“After Gertie’s choice of movies, I’m not about to disagree with you. But still, I thought the worst thing that could happen was Ida Belle wrecking the motorcycle and my having to live down that outfit with the emergency room staff.”
“If Ida Belle had crashed that bike,” Ally said, “I don’t think there would have been much left of that outfit.”
“Especially since it was only half of one to begin with.”
“If that.”
“Hooker clothes aside, we didn’t mean to cause you more worry.”
Ally reached over and squeezed my hand. “I know you guys were trying to help, and I love you for it. And yes, when Gertie got that call from Myrtle, I did panic a little. Then when you told me about Floyd, I almost had a heart attack right there in your living room, but the reality is, last night was only one small piece of my worries and that part was over by the time I went to bed.”
“Then what else is bothering you? I mean, besides the obvious?”
“Staying here. Moving back to my house. Living in a construction zone. Living next to Floyd. The creeper. The arsonist. Do I need to go on?”
“No. That’s a pretty good list.”
“I also have a date tonight.”
I nodded automatically, my mind still locked on her list, and it took me a couple of seconds to realize what she’d just said. “What?” I sat up straight, sloshing my coffee onto the table.
She grinned and handed me a napkin. “That got your attention.”
“Who is your date with? The cute fireman?”
“Yes,” she said, a light blush creeping over her face. “I ran into him yesterday at the General Store after I finished with the insurance adjuster. He asked me if I was doing all right and if there was anything he could help with at my house. We got to talking for a bit and one thing led to another.”
“And?”
She laughed. “And he asked me out. What did you think—we had wild monkey sex in the General Store and Walter videotaped it?”
“No! I would never… I’m just not that good at the whole male-female interaction thing. You kinda have to spell it out for me.”
Ally shook her head. “You really weren’t kidding about that, were you? What the heck did you do with all your free time before?”
I frowned, not certain how to answer. I was supposed to be a librarian, but I wasn’t a big reader except for books on weaponry and historical battle stories. I almost never watched television until coming to Sinful, so I could hardly claim an addiction to that. I didn’t knit or paint or anything else that women might do with their time.
“Well, I worked out every day.”
Ally rolled her eyes. “Your life must have consisted of more than going to the gym.”
I nodded. That much was
true, as the majority of my exercise hadn’t been the controlled-environment kind. “I did other things.”
“You make it sound so secretive.”
My mind flashed back to a documentary I’d watched the week before. “I…I guess I don’t like to talk about it. I work with some organizations. Usually I spend my summers overseas doing, uh, humanitarian work.”
That wasn’t a lie. Killing bad guys benefited humanity.
Ally smiled. “I think that’s great. I promise never to rib you about not having a life. It sounds like you have one filled with purpose.”
I nodded, but I felt like a hypocrite. My job was filled with purpose, if one considered a mission objective to be the same thing, but my life was sort of a void—the blank time I spent waiting for the next assignment.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone,” I said. “The work is very personal to me. When people find out, they tend to ask a lot of questions, and I get uncomfortable answering them.”
“I understand. Your secret is safe with me.”
Relief and guilt washed over me. Before I’d arrived in Sinful, I could lie as easily as I told the truth, but once you knew people on a personal level, and liked them, it changed everything. Mostly, it made everything more complicated. My personal life was a lot simpler when I didn’t care about anyone and no one was counting on me for anything outside of my job. Now I actually called people friends and liked it, but it came with costs.
Because of the risks they took, I worried about Ida Belle and Gertie, but my relationship with them was easier because they knew the real me. With them, there was no obfuscation. My relationship with Ally was a finer line to balance, always hovering between a truth and a lie. My…whatever…with Carter was even more confusing. The only progress I’d managed to make was admitting to myself that I was attracted to him, and I knew he was attracted to me.
Except it wasn’t really me.
And that’s the thing that got me every time. I may lack experience in the male-female arena, but I knew that no relationship worked if it was founded on a lie. Carter was attracted to a woman who didn’t really exist, and I had no doubt that if he found out about my duplicity, his interest would disappear completely. To experience that firsthand would suck, which is why I had no intention of Carter’s finding out who I really was until I was long gone from Sinful.
