by Jana DeLeon
His smile extended and this time, it was genuine. “Thank you. We pride ourselves on building the best boats in southeast Louisiana. I’m glad it’s working out for you.”
A much older man working behind the counter yelled and Bob held up one finger. “Sorry, we’re a little busy right now. I need to go handle this, but let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”
“Thanks,” I said.
As he walked away, I scanned the store and spotted Little at a table in a sitting area at the back of building, drinking coffee and reading a hunting magazine. I headed his direction and he looked up and gestured toward the chair across from him.
“Is hunting a hobby of yours?” I asked as I sat.
“It used to be.”
“What did you hunt?”
He smiled. “Nothing you can talk about in magazines.”
“Oh.” Stupid question.
The door chimed and Little looked over as Ida Belle and Gertie walked inside. “I see your soldiers are accompanying you.”
I nodded. “We headed out first thing this morning to the site where the lab exploded, which was possible thanks to you and the awesome airboat you supplied.”
“So you like the boat?”
“The boat is incredible. I don’t think I’ve had that much fun since, well, I can’t remember when.”
“I’m glad you like it. Airboats are particularly suited for the terrain here, and we didn’t know what kind of obstacles you might run up against. You seem to get yourself in situations of pursuit. We wanted to give you the best advantage we could.”
“You definitely did that.” If the bad guys wanted to chase me on water, bring it on. The only thing beating that boat was a bullet.
“So you three got right on things, huh? And you already need my help with something. That’s encouraging. Tell me what you’ve found.”
“A way to identify the cooker.”
His eyes widened. “So quickly? That is impressive. What do you need from me?”
“Help with the actual identification part.” I pulled the ziplock bag out of my pocket and stretched my hand under the table toward Little.
He took the bag and opened his hand, keeping it below the table line. He raised one eyebrow and looked at me. “You’ve just been carrying it around in your pocket like that?”
“Sure. It’s not like I’m going to rub the ridges off of it or something.”
He gave me a respectful nod. “You’re one unflappable broad. You know it?”
“Thanks.”
“You ever want to ditch the ole card catalog and take on some work that gets a little more risky than overdue books and pays a hell of a lot more, you let me know. Our organization could use a woman with the smarts and skills you got.”
I held in a smile. If he only knew exactly how overqualified I was for the position he had in mind, he probably wouldn’t be smiling at me. “If I’m ever looking for that kind of career change, you’ll be the first person I call.”
He nodded. “I take it you need me to run the print?”
“Yeah, with the whole Nelson deal, we lost our contact at the sheriff’s department.”
“You had a contact who would have run the print, even though you’re dating the deputy?”
“She’s a good friend of Ida Belle and Gertie’s.”
He laughed. “So they’ve had a mole inside the sheriff’s department? Beautiful.”
“Until today.”
“What happened to her?”
“Nelson replaced her with a hooker.”
He stared at me for a moment, probably waiting for the punch line, but when none was forthcoming, he shook his head. “You’re not joking.”
“I couldn’t make that up if I wanted to.”
“This whole issue with Nelson and the new mayor could present a lot of problems for Big and me. We’re watching the situation very closely. Rest assured, if that election audit doesn’t change things, we will.”
I nodded. I had a really good idea how the Heberts would go about enacting change, and it would probably involve a ceremony at the graveyard. I thought Celia was a bitch and a complete nutter who couldn’t have a consistent feeling or thought from minute to minute, but that didn’t mean I wanted her dead. If Marie knew just how much was riding on her audit, she’d probably have a heart attack.
“I have someone that can handle this,” Little said and stuck the finger in his suit pocket.
“And you’ll let me know what he finds?”
“Of course. This is a promising start, but it’s not the end. That cooker wasn’t working alone. We need to know who he was in business with before they fill the vacancy and rebuild.”
“Great. Do you need an email or something? I can set up a fake one.”
“I don’t like to leave an electronic trail. I’ll have someone deliver the paperwork to you when I receive it.”
“Your delivery boy isn’t going to drug my roommate and break into my kitchen, is he?”
Little grinned. “If I told him how you dressed to confront intruders, he’d insist on it. But the answer is no. The drop will be during normal waking hours but unnoticeable as anything suspect. You have my word on that.”
“Great.”
“Are you working any other angles?”
“We found a matchbook from the Swamp Bar at the explosion site.”
Little grimaced. “That place. I keep telling Big we should open a competing bar—one with a little more class. The place is full of petty criminals and scumbags.”
“Mostly your clients?”
“Touché.”
“Well, I’m hoping the print trace will narrow down the scope a bit. Investigating everyone who goes to the bar would take a lifetime and manpower we don’t have.”
“Good. Anything else going on?”
“Sorta. I mean, it’s a real long shot, but we’re chaperoning the dance tonight.”
He frowned. “The teen dance? I don’t think I get the connection.”
“We figured if someone’s dealing in Sinful, teens would know.”
“Because they’re targeted buyers for dealers. I see. Well, in that case, I’m hoping you come up empty.”
“Me too. Honestly, the three of us are hoping this problem was just getting started, and that we can stop it from gaining traction.”
“You get me the information I need. I’ll make sure there’s no traction.”
“Then I best get going. Thanks again for the boat.”
“Enjoy. And be careful. Big and I aren’t the only ones who’ve noticed your strange choice of pastimes. There’s talk in certain circles.”
“I’ll be careful,” I said as I rose from my chair. “Thanks.”
Great. I came to Sinful to hide from the giant target on my back only to whip up a brand-new target with a different group of shooters. Not that it surprised me. Sinful wasn’t exactly New York City. My actions were bound to make rounds in the criminal gossip circles, especially now that it was fairly common knowledge that I was seeing Carter on a personal basis.
Ida Belle and Gertie were at the cashier when I crossed the store. Gertie took a receipt from the older clerk and dragged a large plastic bag off the counter. “What did you buy?” I asked.
“A diving mask,” Gertie said. “It will keep my eyes from drying out the next time Ida Belle tries to kill us in the boat.”
“That’s actually not a bad idea,” I said.
“Tell her what else is in the bag,” Ida Belle said.
I looked down at the bag, which was far too large and saggy to hold only a dive mask. “Do I want to know?”
Gertie opened the bag and I peered inside at the large cardboard box with a huge inflatable alligator on the side.
“It’s one of those that you tow behind a boat,” Gertie said, her eyes lighting up. “I’ve always wanted to ride one of these.”
“Let me get this straight,” I said. “You’re convinced that Ida Belle is trying to kill us with the boat, but you wa
nt to sit on a piece of plastic filled with air and let her pull you down the bayou…where the real alligators are also floating?”
Ida Belle lifted her hands, palms up. “That’s what I said.”
“If we’re not investigating,” Gertie said, “then there’s no need to drive like we’re being shot at. And if there’s one thing the three of us could use, it’s a break from crap and a little fun.”
“I’m not riding on that thing,” I said.
“Don’t worry,” Ida Belle said. “Watching Gertie attempt it will cover the fun part.”
She had a point, and we had the afternoon open. “It’s a while before we have to get ready for the dance. What do you say we head back and try that thing out?”
“Really?” Gertie asked.
“Absolutely,” I said. “But I’m warning you, the footage is going straight onto YouTube.”
“Awesome!” Gertie said. “I’ll be famous.”
Ida Belle closed her eyes and sighed. “God help us.”
Chapter Eight
I intended to drive straight home, blow up that alligator, and commence with the entertainment part of the afternoon, but when we drove into downtown Sinful, it was clear that something was wrong. A crowd of people was gathered on Main Street in front of the sheriff’s department, yelling and shaking their fists.
“This doesn’t look good,” I said.
“Better stop and see what’s going on,” Ida Belle said.
I parked at the end of Main Street and we headed toward the crowd.
“Ida Belle!” Marie broke out from the crowd and hurried toward us. “Thank God you’re here. I tried to reach your cell, but you didn’t answer.”
Ida Belle pulled her cell phone from her pocket. “I put the darn thing on silent earlier and forgot to change it back. What the heck is going on?”
“Celia and Nelson are what’s going on,” Marie said. “Word circulated quickly about Myrtle being replaced by the hooker, which was bad enough, but people figured even Celia would be decent enough to handle that one. Then she had Nelson trot out her new law.”
“I’m afraid to ask,” I said.
“You should be,” Marie said. “The new law states that the Catholic church gets to let out at five ’til.”
“What?”
“That’s an outrage!”
“She’s not going to get away with this!”
“He can’t just change the law,” Ida Belle said.
Marie nodded. “That’s why all these people are here protesting. But that idiot Nelson won’t come out of the building. Coward.”
“The door’s opening!” a man in the crowd shouted.
We hurried forward and watched as Nelson walked out of the sheriff’s department and stood on a park bench on the sidewalk. “I’m going to have to ask you to disband,” Nelson said. “You don’t have a permit to occupy this street, so you’re all breaking the law.”
“You rewriting everything,” one man shouted, “or just the things that benefit you and Celia?”
Nelson gave the man a condescending look. “I assume your comment is concerning the recent change to church hours. That law has been temporarily amended for the safety of the community.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” a woman yelled.
Nelson glanced over at us and smiled. “Due to the recent assault on our mayor by a member of the Baptist church, I’ve decided that the safety of the community is protected by ensuring the two groups do not occupy the sidewalk at the same time. If you want to blame someone, blame her.”
He pointed directly at me and I felt the target forming on my back.
“That’s what you get for cavorting with Yankees,” Nelson said.
“I’d rather cavort with a Yankee than a snake,” another man shouted.
The crowd nodded and Nelson’s smile fell a bit.
“It’s pretty bad when your hometown prefers a Yankee over you,” Gertie yelled.
Nelson’s expression hardened. “I don’t care what any of you prefer. The fact of the matter is, I’m the sheriff, and what I say goes.”
“But it only goes so far.” Francine’s voice sounded behind us, and everyone turned around.
She stood outside the café, hands on her hips and mad as a hornet. If she’d been holding a weapon, I would have hit the pavement. She walked through the crowd and looked up at Nelson. “You can make all the laws you want about church closing time. Hell, you can let them have Mass on Saturday if you want to, but the one thing you can’t do is make me cook.”
There was a collective intake of breath.
Francine turned around and faced the crowd. “Until further notice, the café will not serve banana pudding.” She shot Nelson one final look of disgust and stomped through the crowd and back into the café.
As soon as the café door swung shut, the crowd exploded.
“See what you’ve done!”
“You and that mayor bitch are going down!”
“You’re ruining the entire town!”
“I swear to God, I’ll shoot you on sight at the next opportunity!”
Nelson wasn’t completely stupid. His expression changed from indignant to fear as he jumped off the park bench and practically ran inside the sheriff’s department. I heard the dead bolt slide into place and seconds later, all the blinds dropped.
“You can’t hide in there forever!” a man shouted. “There’s more of us than you.”
I heard the sound of glass breaking and looked over to see a hole in one of the front windows of the sheriff’s department.
“We’ve got to do something,” Marie said, “before they burn the place down.”
Ida Belle climbed up on the park bench, stuck her fingers in her mouth, and let out a whistle that should have shattered glass. Everyone threw their hands over their ears and stared up at her.
“Good residents of Sinful,” Ida Belle said. “I know you’re all upset and so am I, but when this is all over, Sheriff Lee and Deputy LeBlanc will need a place to work for our protection. I know how frustrating this is, but I need you to believe that it won’t last. And when the tide turns—”
“It’s open season on Nelson!” a man shouted and people around him nodded in agreement.
“I can’t tell you what to do,” Ida Belle said. “I can only suggest that you don’t do anything that causes damages to this town that we have to pay for later.”
A low grumbling passed through the crowd, and they started to disperse. Marie sank onto the bench, clutching the sides of her face. “It hasn’t even been a week since Celia got voted in, and things are already going to hell in a handbasket. I knew that woman would ruin this town, but I thought it would take longer.”
Ida Belle stepped down off the bench and patted Marie on the shoulder. “Things are escalating quicker than I thought they would, but we’re going to fix this.”
Marie looked up at her. “What if the auditors find that the election wasn’t fixed? What if Celia actually won?”
“That’s not going to happen,” Ida Belle said, her expression grim.
I nodded my agreement, saying a quick prayer that Ida Belle was right. Because if Celia was still mayor after that audit, she was a walking target for Big and Little Hebert, and she’d have no idea they were coming.
“I hope you’re right,” Marie said. “This town has suffered enough lately. I don’t think it can take Celia as mayor without imploding.” She rose from the bench. “I need to get home to shower and change. I’m meeting the auditors in an hour and all this brouhaha has made me a complete mess.”
“Let us know if we can do anything,” Gertie said.
Marie gave her a sad nod and shuffled off down the street. As we walked to the Jeep, I told Ida Belle and Gertie what Little had said about Celia and Nelson.
“Do you really think they’d kill her?” Gertie asked.
“Of course they would,” Ida Belle said. “They’re criminals. Do you think they haven’t killed people before?”
&
nbsp; “I’m sure,” Gertie said, “but I always figured they were killing other criminals. I would give my good dentures to see her run out of town, but not in a casket.”
I nodded. “I would like to think that a threat would precede action, but Celia is so stubborn…”
“She would ignore the threat,” Ida Belle said, and sighed. “Crap.”
“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it,” Gertie said. “Little is not likely to give us a heads-up before he has someone put a bullet in Celia, and even if he did and we warned her, she wouldn’t believe us, either.”
“Probably not,” Ida Belle agreed. “And the last thing I’m interested in is getting in the middle of that. I don’t want to see anyone die, but that includes myself. If I’m going to take a bullet for someone, it’s not going to be Celia Arceneaux.”
We climbed into the Jeep and I pulled away up Main Street. “Let’s just pray that the audit overturns the election results.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Gertie asked.
“Then we’ll figure something else out,” I said.
I glanced over at Ida Belle, who nodded, but I knew she didn’t have any better ideas than I did.
“Anyway,” Ida Belle said. “We have bigger fish to fry with our own investigation and an afternoon of relaxation and entertainment ahead of us. Let’s just try to enjoy ourselves for a couple of hours. We’ll be back in the thick of things soon enough.”
“We’re still going boating?” Gertie asked, her voice tracking up like a child.
“Of course,” I said, forcing all thoughts of Celia and cement shoes out of my head. Instead, I replaced it with a mental image of Gertie on the floating alligator, except in my vision, Ida Belle was driving the airboat so fast, the gator hung in midair as Gertie clung on for dear life.
“Yippee!” Gertie cheered and pulled the box out of her shopping bag. A couple seconds later, she was huffing into the air valve as if she were in labor. About five seconds in, she dropped the float and started wheezing. “I can’t breathe. Need oxygen.”
“Then stop putting it in the float, you old fool.” Ida Belle took the float from her. “Drop by my house,” she told me. “We’ll fill it up with my air compressor.”
