Jana DeLeon - Miss Fortune 06 - Soldiers of Fortune

by Jana DeLeon

  “What the hell is this?” Carter asked, pointing at the boat.

  “It’s an airboat,” Gertie said.

  Carter looked up at her and did a double take when he saw her long-sleeved shirt straitjacket. “I know what it is. Why do you have it?”

  “Fortune leased it for the summer,” Ida Belle said. “Isn’t it great?”

  Carter’s eyes widened and he pinned his gaze on me. “You leased an airboat? Why in the name of all that is holy would you do such a thing?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I was talking to this boat salesman a week or so ago in the café. I asked him about airboats since I’d seen one going by my house one day, and he told me they were the most fun ever and said he’d make me a deal. When I explained I was only here for the summer, he offered to do a lease.”

  Carter shook his head in disbelief. “You leased an airboat? Oh my God.”

  I heard a chuckle and looked behind him to see Walter wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

  “You’re not helping matters,” Carter said. “The three of them will kill themselves in this thing. They’ve already tied Gertie up, for Christ’s sake.”

  “That was Fortune’s idea,” Gertie said. “I was mad about it, but she swore I’d thank her when it was over. I have to admit, she was right on that one.”

  “Told you so,” I said.

  Gertie nodded. “I’d be swimming for shore if it wasn’t for this shirt. Good thing I bought the one made out of the sturdy material and not that cheap stuff.”

  “Stop all your worrying,” Ida Belle said. “This isn’t my first rodeo. I can handle this thing just fine.”

  “Like you handled the Corvette?” Carter asked. “Or the motorcycle?”

  Ida Belle glared at him. “You seen any police reports with my name on them? Call my insurance agent and check my record. I’m clean.”

  Carter threw his arms in the air. “Only because they don’t know about things. I have a farmer missing a chicken coop that would disagree on the motorcycle record.”

  Ida Belle sighed. “I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Walter started choking and then coughing. “Give it up, son,” he said. “You’d get a confession out of a Cold War spy before you would any of those three.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “and let’s talk about what you two are doing here. The text you sent me said you were going to sit in recliners and watch television. So not only are both of you out doing things the doctor has forbidden, you lied to me.”

  “Damn straight,” Gertie said.

  The righteous indignation fled from Carter’s expression. “That was the original plan,” he hurried to explain, “but then we thought a relaxing morning of fishing would be better for us. Dr. Stewart didn’t say anything about fishing.”

  “And if you had your fishing rods in the boat,” Ida Belle said, “that story would work just fine.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my fingers on my biceps. I had to admit, it felt good to watch Carter squirm. It was usually the other way around, and a dose of his own medicine was good for him. “Admit it. You’re poking into police business—against doctor’s orders and definitely without Nelson’s okay.”

  “And you’re using a civilian to help,” Gertie pointed out. “Is this where you tell us to do as you say and not as you do?”

  “Fine,” Carter said. “I’m doing my job because no one else is going to. And if Dr. Stewart wants me to sit around in a bed all day, then he’s going to have to chain me to it or drug me. But I’m not going to sit around and watch this town fall apart.”

  I looked over at Walter, who raised his hands in defense. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “I’m only in it for the free beer he promised me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No one would ever know you two are related, would they?”

  Carter shot Walter a dirty look, then turned back around. “If you are done watching me squirm, I’d like to get on with this so we can get back to Walter’s house before my mom gets home from shopping.”

  I grinned. “Go on with your bad self. We’re going to park this baby and run some errands.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “What kind of errands?”

  “We’re chaperoning the dance tonight, remember?” I said. “I figure a bulletproof vest, Mace, and a couple pairs of handcuffs will do.”

  Ida Belle fired up the boat and I dropped down on the bench just in time for her to take off. The look of dismay on Carter’s face was priceless.

  “You really got him!” Gertie yelled. “Holy crap! I ate a bug. Jeez, someone get some mouthwash. Gah! I ate another one.”

  I put one hand over my mouth and kept grinning.

  Chapter Seven

  While Gertie gargled with half a bottle of mouthwash, I pulled out a ziplock bag for the finger and the fixings for ham sandwiches, then placed it all on the counter. Ida Belle looked at the finger and shook her head as she took a seat at the kitchen table.

  “How are we going to get that print run?” I asked. “Even if Carter were on the job, we couldn’t ask him, and I don’t trust Deputy Breaux to keep silent about it.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Ida Belle said, and pulled out her cell phone. “I figure I’ll ask Myrtle to do it.”

  “Can you do something like that?”

  “I don’t see why not. It’s not like Nelson is going to be paying attention.”

  “True.”

  Ida Belle dialed Myrtle, who must have had the phone in her hand.

  “I need a favor,” Ida Belle said. “A sheriff’s department kind of favor.”

  I heard loud talking on the other end but I couldn’t make out what she was saying.

  “I’m at Fortune’s house,” Ida Belle said. “What’s wrong?”

  A second later, Ida Belle lowered the phone. “She said she was on her way over and hung up. I haven’t heard her sound that stressed since the last time we were in hot water.”

  “So a couple of days ago?”

  “About that.”

  I slid the sandwiches onto the table and took a seat.

  “Spit that crap out and come eat!” Ida Belle yelled.

  A couple seconds later, Gertie came shuffling into the kitchen and plopped into her chair. “I swear I still taste those bugs.”

  “It’s your imagination,” Ida Belle said, “and you ought to know better than having your mouth open in a boat.”

  “I think that first one scarred my trachea.” Gertie rubbed her throat.

  “It hasn’t slowed down your talking,” Ida Belle said.

  Gertie shot her a dirty look. “I think that bug flew out of my mouth and crawled up your butt.”

  “Something’s up with Myrtle,” I said, “and she wouldn’t tell Ida Belle what.”

  “She’s on her way here now,” Ida Belle said.

  Gertie frowned. “You know it’s that idiot Nelson.”

  “I’m sure,” Ida Belle said. “What I’m worried about is the extent of his stupidity.”

  The doorbell rang, and I jumped up and hurried to let Myrtle in. Her face was bright red, and I thought she was going to pass out. “This way,” I said, and hurried back to the kitchen.

  Myrtle dropped into a chair and began to wail. I grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and put it in front of her. Gertie dug in her purse and pulled out a box of tissues. Myrtle snatched a tissue out of the box and blotted her face, then grabbed the bottle of water and held it against her forehead.

  “What happened?” Ida Belle asked.

  “That butthole Nelson is what happened,” Myrtle said, her voice catching. “I’m so darn mad. I always cry when I’m mad, and I hate crying!”

  Ida Belle shot us a knowing glance. “What did he do?”

  “He fired me!”

  “What?”

  “He can’t do that!”

  “I’m happy to shoot him for you.”

  We all spit out our outrage at once.

&nbs
p; Myrtle gave us a sad smile and patted my hand. “I might take you up on the shooting offer, dear.” She blew her nose, then shook her head. “That’s not even the worst part.”

  Gertie’s eyes widened. “What’s worse than that?”

  “He replaced me with a hooker.”

  We all sucked in a breath.

  “Not a real hooker,” I said, thinking it was probably just some sleazy, trashy woman—basically, the kind that would date Nelson.

  Myrtle nodded. “A real, honest-to-God, has a record and a pimp, hooker. I ran a background on her as I was cleaning out my desk. Not that I needed one. She’d practically bathed in cheap perfume, and her skirt was so short I could see the Milky Way up there even when she was standing up straight. I don’t even want to think about what would happen if she bent over. Probably suck the whole town in like a giant black hole.”

  I grimaced. “And Celia allowed this? I know she’s a nut and a flaming bitch, but I can’t see her being okay with a hooker.”

  “I don’t think she knows,” Myrtle said. “She’s been closed up in the church with her posse all day, probably plotting things to do to make all our lives miserable.”

  “I hope that election audit happens soon,” Gertie said. “This has gotten out of control faster than I thought it would.”

  “Was Deputy Breaux there when Nelson brought in his new employee?” Ida Belle asked.

  Myrtle nodded. “He spit an entire mouthful of soda right on Nelson. That was the only good part of the morning. Then when Nelson left to get a towel, the hooker hit on him. He turned white as a sheet and completely lost the ability to talk. The poor boy couldn’t even look at me when he ran out of the building. He’s probably halfway to New Orleans to find a shrink.”

  Ida Belle shook her head. “When all this is over, you’re going to have to fumigate the entire building.”

  “And maybe spread some penicillin around,” Gertie said.

  “I know,” Myrtle said. “I used antibacterial gel on my hands twice on the way over here, and I don’t even know how many times before I could get out of the sheriff’s department. My hands are starting to chafe.”

  “Maybe when this is all over,” I said, “we can cover the whole building with one of those termite tents and hose down the entire place with Lysol.”

  “So anyway,” Myrtle said, “it looks like I’m out of the sheriff’s department favor business until further notice. I’m really sorry, Ida Belle.”

  Ida Belle waved a hand in dismissal. “None of this is your fault. You’re just caught in the middle of a nasty turf war. Hopefully, the audit will get everything straightened out and this town can get back to normal. I know that’s not saying a lot to outsiders, but I’ll take Sinful normal over Celia normal any day.”

  “Got that right.” Myrtle rose from her chair. “If you guys don’t mind, I’d like to go home and shower until next Tuesday.”

  “Hang in there,” Gertie said as Myrtle headed down the hallway. “We’re going to get this fixed. You just wait and see.”

  Myrtle held her hand in the air, one thumb up.

  “Okay, this sucks,” I said as soon as the door closed. “We are now completely closed off from information at the sheriff’s department.”

  “I know,” Ida Belle said, her expression grim. “Deputy Breaux is a good sort, and I’m sure he’d do anything within his power to get Nelson out and Sheriff Lee back in, but I don’t think he’s got the smarts or the fortitude to handle being a double agent.”

  Gertie shook her head. “He’d fold like a cheap towel.”

  “And he’s got no game,” I said. “Everything he’s thinking is right there on his face. I don’t think he has a sneaky bone in his body.”

  “He doesn’t,” Ida Belle agreed. “His momma raised him right, which is great for whatever woman realizes he’s a safe and decent catch, but not good at all for us. We’re going to have to figure out a plan B.”

  I hopped out of my chair, opened the kitchen drawer, and pulled out the card Little had given me the night before. “I have a plan B. Assuming it’s something they can handle.”

  “The Heberts?” Gertie asked.

  I nodded. “If that’s okay with you guys. I know I accepted the boat, but I don’t want us to get in too deep with them if you have some concerns.”

  “Of course we have concerns,” Ida Belle said. “We’re not idiots, but at this point, it’s the lesser of two evils. And if we’re being honest, Big and Little have been pretty straight with us. They could have handed us over to the ATF over that last hiccup.”

  “Do you trust them?” Gertie asked me.

  “Hell no!” I said. “No further than I can throw them on most everything, but on this…yeah, I do.”

  I grabbed my cell phone and dialed the number on the card. He answered on the first ring.

  “You got Little,” he said.

  “Hi. I have something I need help with.” I was intentionally vague because I wasn’t sure about the security of the line.

  “Give it to me.”

  “I’d love to, but I have to do it in person. Is there somewhere we can meet?”

  “Now?”

  “If that’s possible.”

  “Sure. Meet me at Swamp City Airboats in forty-five minutes.”

  I did a quick mental calculation based on the location I’d seen for the boat store on the website. It was probably a thirty-minute drive. “Great.”

  I slid back into my seat and grabbed my sandwich. “We’re meeting him at the boat store in forty-five minutes. That means we’ve got fifteen to eat and get on the road.”

  Gertie reached for her sandwich and squirmed in her chair. “My ribs are killing me. I need a hot shower.”

  “No time for that,” I said. “Don’t you have some muscle rub or something in that purse of yours?”

  “You’re thinking of vapor rub,” Ida Belle said. “Old ladies always carry vapor rub.”

  “I’m not an old lady,” Gertie said.

  “Do you have vapor rub in your purse?” Ida Belle asked.

  “Shut up,” Gertie said and lifted her bag into her lap. “I think I put a tube of sports cream in here. Yep, here it is. And my heating pad. I’ll plug this baby in and it will be nice and hot for the ride to the boat shop.”

  “You’re falling apart,” Ida Belle said as Gertie plugged her heating pad in and laid it on the kitchen counter. “I’m putting you on a workout routine starting Monday.”

  “The hell you are,” Gertie said as she sat back down. “I just need my kidney belt for any future boat excursions. And maybe my girdle, support hose, and some well-placed Ace bandages, then I’ll be good to go.”

  Ida Belle shook her head. “You’ll be wound up so tight, if you fart, you’ll blow a leg off.”

  “I have Gas-X in my purse, too.”

  I grimaced. “Ten minutes. More eating. Less talking.”

  We made quick work of the sandwiches, Gertie gargled one more time, and we were on the road. After the boat ride, seventy miles per hour in my Jeep almost seemed like running in reverse.

  “Have either of you ever met this Bob?” I asked as we headed down the highway.

  “No,” Ida Belle said. “He has a reputation for building some of the best airboats around. After today, I’d definitely agree with that.”

  “I hope he wasn’t strong-armed into giving me the boat,” I said. “I don’t want any problems with an Hebert, even if he’s not part of the family business.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he’s in it up to his neck,” Ida Belle said. “In their line of work, money laundering always comes in handy, and boats are high-dollar items. And remember, Bob builds his own boats, so no inventory straight from the factory to trace. Easier to run cash through the bank for fake sales without getting caught.”

  I nodded. That made sense and lowered my chances of coming face-to-face with a resentful business owner who had to give away his product. “So what are we going to do about this Nelson problem?”

/>   We spent the rest of the drive discussing the possibilities, but unraveling the mare’s nest of Celia, Nelson, and the newly introduced hooker was currently out of our reach. We were still trying to come up with something other than “wait for the audit” when I turned off the highway and onto the road that led to the boat store.

  After about twenty yards, I decided that “road” might have been a stretch. This was more like the path to the Swamp Bar—no shoulder, constructed of rocks over dirt, and potholes you could lose a small child or large dog in. Cattails and weeds grew right up to the edge of the road, and occasionally slapped the side of the Jeep. I was thrilled when the boat shop came into view around a corner about a half mile onto the path.

  While the condition of the road was expected, the shop was a surprise. Fairly new construction, all brick, with stained brown trim. Behind it stretched a wide channel with a bunch of airboats docked right behind the store. I parked next to a shiny new black Cadillac, figuring it belonged to Little. I peered into the car as I exited the Jeep, but it was empty.

  “He must be inside,” I said.

  “You go in first,” Ida Belle said. “He’ll probably want to keep things looking casual, especially as it looks like there’s some customers inside.” She gestured to the trucks littering the parking area.

  I nodded and headed inside the shop. A beefy man with the same face I’d seen on the website looked up as the door chimed and smiled as he made his way over.

  Forty-five years old. Six feet two. Three hundred ten pounds. High blood pressure. Bad knees. Threat level low except for the Hebert part of the equation.

  “Fortune,” he said as he extended his hand. “It’s good to see you again.” He winked at me, and I knew the show was for the other patrons. “Are you enjoying your new boat?”

  “I love it,” I said. No show required on my part. Despite the fact that Ida Belle did her best to take years off my life, I still thought the boat was one of the coolest things ever. “I took it out this morning for a spin with some friends. It is seriously fast. You build a great product.”