Swamp Team 3 (A Miss Fortune Mystery)

by DeLeon, Jana

  “I don’t know why exactly. The Feds don’t have to answer to local law enforcement, and in my experience, they take great pleasure in that. All I know is that they’re taking over the investigation of Floyd’s murder, and if I am deemed to be working on the case, they will arrest me.”

  “What in the world could the Feds want with Floyd?”

  “Who knows? He wasn’t exactly a model citizen and considering he was murdered, that only supports my theory that he was into all manner of illegal and nefarious things. Likely, they were watching him to build a case for something.”

  “And if they can figure out who murdered him, it might make their case stronger.”

  “I’m sure that’s what they’re hoping for.”

  “I don’t suppose you had a chance to search Floyd’s house?”

  “A cursory look while the paramedics were preparing the body for transport. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but I didn’t have a chance to look deeply.”

  “No bobcat?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. The last thing we needed to run into this evening was that angry animal with razor claws.

  Carter frowned. “Now that I think of it, no sign of the bobcat or that Floyd was keeping a pet. It’s more likely the cat lives in the swamp behind his house. Maybe he feeds it sometimes. It coming after you was probably a coincidence that he was happy to take advantage of.”

  “Some coincidence.”

  He reached down and took my hand in his. “I don’t want you to worry about this. My case files contained only the barest of information and nothing about the Swamp Bar incident. They’re not going to find out anything else from me.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Let’s hope if they track Floyd that far, the Swamp Bar customers have the same tight lips you do.”

  “I doubt they’ll go that direction. I think they already have a good idea who killed him. They just don’t want me messing up their case with my inept, small-town investigative skills.”

  “Then that’s their loss, right?”

  He smiled and leaned over, brushing his lips lightly against mine. “When all this is over, you still owe me dinner.”

  “Don’t you mean you owe me dinner?”

  “Now you’re a traditionalist?”

  “Maybe.” I squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry things got out of hand. If I’d never gone to the Swamp Bar…”

  “Then it would have been something else.” He released my hand and leaned back. “I spent a lot of time being aggravated that you wouldn’t listen to my stellar advice—and it is stellar—but the bottom line is that if you always did what other people told you to do, even when it was for your own good, you wouldn’t be you. That’s something I have to learn to live with, even when I’m on the receiving end of your refusal to listen.”

  “That’s an awfully big compromise to make just to hang out with me.”

  He shrugged. “I keep hoping my good sense and lawful nature will rub off on you.”

  I rose from my chair and despite the million reasons that all of this was a bad idea, couldn’t keep myself from hugging him. Even though I wasn’t the arsonist, hadn’t killed anyone, and definitely didn’t run the FBI, I felt responsible for the position he was in.

  “This is all going to work out,” I said as I wrapped my arms around him.

  He hesitated only for a moment before squeezing me. “It has to.”

  I released him and left the building, more determined than ever to find Floyd’s killer and get both our lives back to normal.

  I couldn’t wait to see what that looked like.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ally held up two dresses. “Which one—the blue or the yellow?”

  I looked at the two offerings, wondering why no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to avoid girl stuff. “Uh, the most comfortable?”

  Gertie rolled her eyes as she walked out of the closet and set a pair of sandals on the rug. “The blue. It brings out the color of your eyes and sets off your tan.”

  “The blue it is.” Ally smiled and headed down the hall to the bathroom to change.

  Ida Belle, Gertie, and I stood in the bedroom, trying to appear relaxed, but we were just waiting for her to leave so that we could get on with our investigation.

  She popped back into the bedroom a minute later, and started stuffing clothes into a duffel bag. “Since I’m going to be staying with you a bit longer, I’m going to pack some more clothes.”

  “Smart move,” I said. “Unless you want to do laundry every day.”

  “Gertie,” Ally said, “can you hand me that shirt hanging just inside the closet?”

  Gertie opened the closet and pulled out a green polo shirt that she handed to Ally. “What’s up with this closet? It’s got a door on the other end.”

  Ally rolled her eyes. “Another of Mama’s great ideas. She had the wall between our closets removed. She said it was so we could easily borrow each other’s clothes but in all our years in the same house, we never once shared a garment.”

  Gertie frowned. “So the closet opens into your mother’s bedroom on the other side? That just sounds nosy to me.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Ally said. She zipped the bag and looked at me. “Do you mind taking this home with you when you leave?”

  “Not at all.”

  She let out a breath and looked at the three of us. “It worries me that you’re not leaving now. And you didn’t even drive a car.”

  “There’s three of us,” I reassured her. “No one is foolish enough to return to the scene of a murder, especially when it’s not even dark yet. We’ll do a quick check of everything and then we’ll lock it up and leave.”

  “And we need the exercise,” Ida Belle said. “That’s why we walked over in the first place.”

  She bit her lower lip. “I just don’t know what you expect to find. Mama didn’t have anything valuable. I mean, just the house and furniture and stuff, but no jewelry or art or anything else worth killing someone over.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Ida Belle agreed, “but it would make us feel better to know the house is secure. It’s not like us to sit around doing nothing.”

  Ally smiled. “I’m lucky to have you as friends.”

  “Yes, well,” Ida Belle said, looking a little flustered, “is David picking you up here?”

  “No. Since I had to get clothes, I told him I’d meet him in front of the General Store.”

  “Make sure,” Gertie said, “that he drives you home tonight to Fortune’s. Don’t stop to pick up your car. Downtown will probably be vacant by the time you return.”

  I nodded. “I’ll take you to work in the morning.”

  Ally shook her head. “I don’t want to inconvenience you any more than I already have.”

  “Who’s inconvenienced?” I asked. “It’s a good excuse for me to have a chicken-fried steak and pancakes.”

  She smiled and slipped on the sandals Gertie had placed on the rug. “Okay. Well, if you guys think I look presentable, then I guess I’ll head out.”

  “You look lovely,” Gertie said. “David is a very lucky man.”

  Ally blushed and gave us a wave before leaving. I watched from the bedroom window, and as soon as she backed out of the driveway, gave Ida Belle and Gertie a thumbs-up.

  “You two start up here,” I said. “There’s a lot more to check with all the storage furniture and closets. I’ll start downstairs. Remember to try to lift every window. And if you see anything that looks odd, even if you can’t figure out why, yell. Between the three of us, we ought to be able to figure things out.”

  Ida Belle and Gertie nodded, and I headed downstairs to start my search in the living room at the front of the house.

  It wasn’t a big room and fortunately, Ally’s mother wasn’t the collecting sort of woman. Two bookcases and a television cabinet made up all of the storage furniture in the room, and a small coat closet was the only other place to hide away things. Given that the bookcases w
ere mostly made up of art objects and not books that had to be flipped through, I made quick work of that room and moved on to the formal dining room, which contained only buffet and table. The windows in both rooms were tightly fastened, and nothing appeared to have been tampered with.

  I moved to the kitchen, first checking the plywood that covered the damaged section of the breakfast nook, but all the sheets were still nailed firmly in place and none of them showed any signs of being removed. The back door was locked but I noticed the dead bolt was broken, probably from when the firemen entered the house. The room had three windows, one boarded up, one window over the sink that was firmly latched, and one more window on the side wall at the opposite end of the kitchen from the fire. The latches appeared to be in place, but when I tugged on the window, it glided silently up.

  I fingered the latches, but they didn’t budge. I pushed the window back down and called out to Ida Belle and Gertie. Several seconds later, they hurried into the kitchen.

  “Did you find something?” Gertie asked.

  “Yes. But not what I wanted to find.” I pointed to the window. “Does that look locked to you?”

  They both stepped closer and inspected the window latches. Gertie nodded and Ida Belle said, “It looks fine to me.”

  “Try to open it,” I said.

  Ida Belle frowned and reached for the window. Her eyes widened when it slid easily. “What the hell?” she said, bending over to inspect the latches. “They’ve been cut off from the back!”

  I nodded.

  Gertie’s eyes widened and some of the color left her face. “But there’s no reason at all to do something like that unless…”

  “Unless you want to sneak into someone’s house without them knowing,” I said.

  “What is going on here?” Ida Belle asked. “Nothing about this makes sense.”

  I nodded. She was right. The arson, the creeper, Floyd’s murder, Big and Little, the real estate agent…I had this feeling all of them were important somehow, but no matter how I arranged the pieces, they didn’t make a picture. “Did you find anything upstairs?”

  Gertie shook her head. “It’s just as we thought. Ally’s mother had modest tastes and wasn’t much for clutter, which was to our benefit. She had a couple of nice jewelry pieces, but nice in a sentimental way for Ally. I can’t imagine they’d bring more than a couple hundred dollars with a jeweler, even less at a pawn shop.”

  I looked at the window again and frowned. “Everything is so inconsistent. If someone wanted something inside this house, then why try to burn it down?”

  Gertie shook her head. “And if they wanted something badly enough to rig the window, why haven’t they taken whatever it is already?”

  “Maybe they have,” Ida Belle said.

  A dark thought popped into my mind. “Or maybe what they wanted was no longer here.”

  Gertie sucked in a breath. “Ally?”

  Ida Belle’s expression turned grim. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. It would explain the window and the creeper.”

  “But not the fire.” I banged my hand on the kitchen counter, causing both of them to jump. “Damn it! I can’t help feeling it’s all right there in front of me, and I know I’m missing something.”

  Ida Belle placed her hand on my arm. “We’re going to figure this out. Nothing is going to happen to Ally. Not on our watch.”

  A felt a sense of relief run through me as she spoke. No one I’d ever known backed up their word like Ida Belle. She was right. If someone wanted Ally, they’d have to go through the three of us. I almost felt sorry for anyone who tried.

  Almost.

  “The sun’s going down,” I said. “We should get ready to head over to Floyd’s.”

  “I’ll check the front,” Gertie said and hurried off to the living room. A couple seconds later, she called out, “Houston, we have a problem.”

  Ida Belle and I hurried to the front to peer out of the blinds.

  “Across the street three houses down,” Gertie said. “That brown sedan doesn’t belong to Beatrice or her daughter, but it’s parked in front of her house.”

  I squinted, trying to get a better look at the car in the diminishing daylight. Two figures were in the front seat, and from the build of the shoulders, I was positive they were men.

  “It’s the FBI,” I said and stepped back from the window.

  “What?” Gertie stared at me. “Why are they watching Floyd’s house? Surely they don’t think the killer is going to return?”

  “I’m sure they don’t,” I said, “but my guess is they’ve stationed a couple of Bureau Babies in the car as a cover-your-ass thing. I kinda figured they would.”

  Ida Belle nodded. “So those guys won’t be the same two who went to see Carter this morning?”

  “Not likely,” I said. “Senior agents are usually in charge of an investigation. Juniors do the grunt work.”

  “Like sitting in a car staring at an empty house all night?” Gertie said. “Sounds riveting.”

  “We all have to start somewhere,” I said.

  Gertie raised one eyebrow. “I bet that’s not how you started.”

  “Ah. Well, I was a bit of an overachiever.”

  Ida Belle snorted. “Like we didn’t already know. You think they’re going to be there all night?”

  “Probably, but it doesn’t matter. They won’t leave the car unless they see movement in the house. We just have to make sure the blinds are closed and don’t direct your flashlight toward a window. As long as no one is on the bayou, we should be able to get in and out without anyone being the wiser.”

  Ida Belle nodded. “The fishermen should all be packed up and gone soon if they aren’t already. I saw a couple of boats on the stretch behind Ally’s house from her bedroom window, but unless someone’s using a broad beam light, we should be able to avoid any traffic that might come down the bayou once it’s dark.”

  “We’ve got about five minutes till sundown,” Gertie said.

  “Then let’s get ready to do this,” I said. I grabbed the purse I’d brought with me and pulled out three sets of gloves. Once we’d donned our gloves, I handed out flashlights. “I’ve got a hammer and a pry bar, in case Floyd got ambitious with the fence.”

  Gertie snorted. “More likely he propped it back up like it was before.”

  I pulled the strap for the bag over my shoulder. “Let’s go see, shall we?”

  We exited Ally’s house through the back door, locking it behind us. That way, if anything went wrong, her house wasn’t compromised. The barest sliver of moonlight lit the backyard and we hurried to the back fence and let ourselves through the iron gate. I scanned the bayou as we crept to Floyd’s fence, but it was clear of any traffic. When we got to the fence panel that had fallen before, I gave it a gentle shove. It wobbled, so I shoved harder and the entire thing fell into Floyd’s backyard.

  “It’s a good thing he never mows,” Ida Belle said. “All the weeds helped cushion the sound of it falling.”

  I scanned the dimly lit backyard, looking for any sign of movement. “You guys see anything?”

  Gertie shook her head. “No FBI agents. No bobcats.”

  Ida Belle snorted. “You wouldn’t be able to see either of them unless they were standing in front of you under a spotlight. But no, I don’t see anything.”

  “Follow me.” I walked across the panel and started down the right side fence line, following it all the way to the house. I checked the back window, but it was locked, so I moved onto the porch and jiggled the doorknob. It was the cheap and old sort, so I pulled a screwdriver out of my bag and made quick work of it.

  I inched the back door open and poked my head inside. The FBI had left a light on in the stairwell, and it cast a glow over the kitchen and living room, which were open to each other. It didn’t take a second to see they’d also been through everything. I stepped inside, motioning Ida Belle and Gertie to follow me, and stared, disgusted, at the mess.

  Every
drawer in the kitchen had been pulled from its slot, the contents dumped on the kitchen counter or floor. Every container had been upended and items pulled out of all the cabinets, the broken remnants littering the floor.

  “They do delicate work,” Ida Belle said.

  “Typical,” I said. “And clumsy. When you search a house like you’re driving a plow, you tend to miss things that are important.”

  “Have you had many dealings with the FBI?” Ida Belle asked.

  “Not really. The, uh…serious aspects of my job only occur in other countries. But I talk to a cop at the range back home. He’s always bitching about the FBI.” I scanned the mess and sighed. “Let’s see if we can find anything the FBI missed.”

  I started at one end of the kitchen counter, Gertie at the other. Ida Belle headed into the living room.

  “They ripped the cushions on the couch and tore out all the stuffing,” Ida Belle said. “What a mess.”

  I shook my head and started parsing through the mess on the counter—plastic forks and Styrofoam plates were scattered across the counter, and I pushed them toward the back in some semblance of a stack. Canned goods had been tossed onto the counter and the floor.

  “Anything?” Gertie asked.

  “He liked baked beans,” I replied.

  “And cigarettes,” Gertie said. “There’s four cartons in this cabinet.”

  “Did the man have any good habits?”

  “People with good habits don’t usually get capped,” Gertie said. “I’m going to take a look at the dining room table.”

  I nodded. “I’ll finish up here.” I moved to the next section of counter, shoving cereal boxes to the side. My pulse ticked up a notch when I saw paperwork underneath. I picked the stack up and started flipping through it.

  “You find something?” Ida Belle asked as she walked into the kitchen.

  “Late notices, disconnect notices, insurance policy.”

  “Life insurance?”

  I flipped back to the policy document. “No. Looks like homeowner’s.” I tossed the stack back on the cabinet. “All that does is tell us what we already know—that Floyd was broke and needed to put his hands on cash fast. What about the living room?”