by Frankie Bow
“Exactly.” Fortune glanced over at the man and took a swig from her beer bottle. Fortune and Mary-Alice listened to a few more songs, and all at once Mary-Alice felt her fatigue hit her.
“Fortune,” she said, “I believe all that traveling’s finally catching up with me.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty wrecked too. I’ll come back with you.”
But on the way back, they heard raised voices coming from behind their house. Fortune tiptoed around the back to see what the commotion was, and Mary-Alice followed her. Next to the papaya tree, a man with long gray hair and a rainbow headband was shouting. The handsome man that Mary-Alice had pointed out to Fortune stood with his arms folded.
“Looks like they just had too much to drink,” Fortune whispered to Mary-Alice.
“Your rights end where my plot begins,” the gray-haired man was yelling at the younger one. “That pollen’s airborne.”
“Come on, Mary-Alice,” Fortune whispered. “It’s none of our business,”
Then the older man lunged at the younger one. It seemed to Mary-Alice that she blinked, and there was Fortune, holding the older man in a hammerlock while the younger man was dusting himself off, looking utterly baffled.
“How are you doing this evening, sir?” Fortune said as she released the old hippie. He jerked himself away, glared at her, and stalked off into the night.
“Is everything okay here?” Fortune asked.
“I’m fine. Listen, I appreciate your rescuing me, but old Blaze is harmless. He’s just been on my case about this stupid tree. We can’t cut it down without putting it to a vote, and I’ve just discovered I like papayas. So I’m not voting to cut it down. If he doesn’t like it, tough.”
Mary-Alice smiled and offered her hand.
“I’m Mary-Alice,” said the always-polite Mary-Alice. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. And this is—”
“Fortune,” the man interrupted with a mischievous grin. “Pleasure to meet you, Mary-Alice. And it’s nice to see you again, Fortune.”
Fortune squinted at him.
“Jeffrey?” she exclaimed. “Is that you?”
“Call me Jodie. Jodie Gordon. Like the upgrade?” He gestured to his face.
“It’s very…nice,” Fortune said.
“I told ‘em I wanted cheekbones. You don’t think they overdid it?”
“Well it was nice to see you, Jodie—” Fortune began.
“Hey, you ladies smoke?”
He pressed his thumb and forefinger together and put them to his lips.
“Listen, we just got in today, and it was a really long flight,” Fortune said. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“I believe I’ll be turning in as well,” Mary-Alice said. “It was ever so nice to meet you, Mister Gordon.”
“What a coincidence,” Mary-Alice said to Fortune when they were inside the house. “Why, you were just telling me how people move here, change their names, and start over. And here you’ve run into an old friend who’s done just that.”
“I’d say he’s more of an acquaintance than a friend,” Fortune said. “And he’s not doing a very good job at making a fresh start. Who gets into a fight over a papaya tree?”
“Well, this has already been about the most thrilling vacation I’ve ever had,” Mary-Alice. “I’m not certain I could take any more excitement.”
Chapter Nine
The next morning, Mary-Alice was awakened by a scream from the direction of the garden. She looked out her back window to see Fortune, in sweats and a tank top, bounding through the garden in the direction of the scream. Mary-Alice knew that the safest course of action would be to stay indoors, but she was worried about Fortune. What was that girl thinking, running out there like that?
Mary-Alice dressed and headed out in the direction she’d seen Fortune going. She found Fortune standing with Nadia and a few of the neighbors she recognized from the previous night’s luau. They were back behind the garden, at the edge of the jungle.
On the ground lay the handsome Jodie Gordon. A woman was kneeling next to him.
“Oh my goodness, is he okay?” Mary-Alice asked, and then felt silly. If he were okay, he wouldn’t be lying there, perfectly still, surrounded by his confused-looking neighbors.
“I can’t find a pulse,” The woman kneeling by him said.
“I already called 9-1-1,” Nadia said. “Although I don’t believe it’ll do him much good now, poor man.”
No one wanted to be the first to leave the dead man’s side, so the neighbors stood around awkwardly until they heard the whoop of a siren and a crunch of gravel.
“Let’s go inside,” Fortune was next to Mary-Alice. “Let the professionals handle it. We don’t need to mix in.”
“What happened?” Mary-Alice asked as she followed Fortune into the house. “He didn’t look injured at all.”
“I don’t know,” Fortune said. “It’s strange, isn’t it?”
Fortune disappeared into her room and shut the door behind her.
Poor thing, Mary-Alice thought. She’s probably never seen a dead body before.
Mary-Alice repaired to her own room to get some reading done. She was absorbed in the doings of Inspector Ian Rutledge when a sharp rap on the door broke the spell.
“Come in,” Mary-Alice called out.
Fortune opened the door.
“Jodie Gordon was dead on arrival.” Fortune pulled the chair over from the window and sat down on it backwards.
“Oh dear. How did the poor man die?”
“They don’t know yet. But my family’s worried, and they want me—us—to move down to town. They’re afraid this place might not be safe.”
“So we need to pack up again?”
“Yeah. Sorry about that. The good news is, there’s an apartment right in Hilo town that’s ready for us to move in. Nadia’s driving down to the farmers’ market tomorrow morning, so she can give us a ride.”
Chapter Ten
The drive down to town was much less comfortable than the cab ride up had been. Nadia Nygaard reserved the front seat of her truck for her delicate potted seedlings. Which meant that Fortune and Mary-Alice had to ride in the back with boxes of cabbage and lettuce and basil, and the grouchy man who had tangled with Jodie Gordon the night before he died.
Mary-Alice gazed out at the gray light over the Pacific Ocean as they wound down the narrow, cliffside road. She tried to banish the mental image of the truck’s wheel hitting a bump and bouncing her out of the truck bed to tumble hundreds of feet down to the water. She turned to the gray-haired man.
“Permit me to introduce myself,” Mary-Alice shouted over the wind and road noise. “I’m Mary-Alice Arceneaux.”
The man nodded.
“I’m Blaze Ocean.”
“Hey there, Blaze,” Fortune said. “I’m Fortune.”
The man glared at her, obviously still holding a grudge about Fortune tackling him.
“How early does the farmers’ market open?” Mary-Alice asked the man.
“Six,” the man said. “But we wanna get there early so we can get the place by the sidewalk before Madam Jasmine does.”
“Who is Madam Jasmine?” Mary-Alice asked.
The man shrugged, as if Madam Jasmine wasn’t worth wasting any more breath on.
When the truck pulled up to the farmers’ market, only a few tables were already in place, but Madam Jasmine had already grabbed the coveted sidewalk spot by the time they arrived.
Her purple tablecloth was spangled with golden astrology symbols, crescent moons, and stars. On the table sat tarot cards, a row of little bottles, and a real crystal ball. Madame Jasmine herself wore a purple robe, and her face and hair were swathed in colorful veils. Mary-Alice noticed that her nails were painted purple with gold stars to match the tablecloth. Mary-Alice examined her own pale-peach manicure and wondered if it wasn’t time to try something a little more adventurous. Perhaps she’d ask Madame Jasmine where she got her nails done.
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“Let’s get out of here,” Fortune whispered to Mary-Alice. She hoisted her backpack over her shoulder, grabbed Mary-Alice’s rolling bag, and hopped out of the truck. Then she helped Mary-Alice down, waved to the gray-haired man and to Nadia, and led Mary-Alice down the quiet street.
Mary-Alice loved their new apartment. It was on the second floor, over a row of shops, right on the bay front road. The view of the swaying palm trees and waves crashing on the rocks was more like what Mary-Alice had been expecting.
“Let’s call Gertie and Ida Belle,” Fortune said. “What do you think?”
Fortune pulled out a laptop and set it up on the kitchen table, and invited Mary-Alice to pull up a chair.
“Don’t worry,” Fortune said as she brought up the video chat software. “It’s secure.”
After a few tries, the image of Gertie and Ida Belle, side by side, came onto the screen. Mary-Alice noticed that the background looked like Fortune’s kitchen.
“Hey girls,” Gertie cried. “How’s Hawaii? Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone where you are.”
“Well, that didn’t take you long,” Fortune said. “How’d you know?”
“It looks like it’s early morning,” Gertie said, “which gives us some idea of the time zone you’re in. And I can see palm trees outside your window.”
“Not to mention we can see your kitchen shelves behind you,” Ida Belle added. “Someone stocked them with doomsday-prepper amounts of Spam.”
“Well, please don’t tell anyone where we are,” Fortune said. “You know how secretive my family is. How are things in Sinful?”
“Deputy Sheriff Carter LeBlanc’s a little mopey without you around,” Gertie said.
“He’ll be fine,” Ida Belle said. “And we’re keeping an eye on your house.”
“So you two are okay out there?” Ida Belle asked. “No murders so far?”
Fortune became serious.
“Probably not, but we did have an incident. The original place we were staying was a little way up the coast, and yesterday morning one of the neighbors collapsed and died. You know how my family worries about me, so they moved us down to town.”
“Fortune, didn’t you know the man?” Mary-Alice blurted out. “I thought you called him Jeffrey.”
“Fortune!” Gertie and Ida Belle exclaimed at once.
“Someone you knew was killed?” Ida Belle demanded. “Right after you got there?”
“No wonder your family is worried!” Gertie added.
“Yeah,” Fortune mused. “It was weird.”
“How did he die?”
“They don’t know.”
They were interrupted by Fortune’s phone ringing.
“There’s my family now,” Fortune said. “I better get this.”
“It was ever so lovely to talk to you,” Mary-Alice called out to Ida Belle and Gertie as Fortune clicked off. Honestly, that young Yankee had a good heart, but her manners could use some work.
Chapter Eleven
Fortune pulled the bedroom door shut behind her and sat on the bed. Her buzz-cut reflection in the dressing-table mirror caught her by surprise. She was still used to the hair extensions.
She pressed the phone to her cheek so she could speak quietly.
“Harrison. Any news about Jeff? Or I guess I should say Jodie? What killed him?”
“They still don’t know. We’re looking at anaphylaxis.”
“An allergy? Do they think it was an accident?”
“If it was an accident, it was an awfully lucky one. For you.”
“For me? What are you talking about?”
“Remember that flyer Ahmad’s guys were circulating around New Orleans?”
“Black and white photocopied picture of me, Arabic and English writing, announcing a reward for my capture. If I recall correctly, I was described as a ringworm-infested daughter of a shoe, may she burn in sixty thousand hells.”
“Daughter of a shoe?”
“It’s a serious insult. I guess it loses something in the translation.”
“We had one of our people go through Jodie Gordon’s things. He had a copy of that flyer, Fortune. It was an encrypted photo on his phone.”
Fortune’s shoulders slumped.
“I’m losing my edge, Harrison. Jeff—Jodie—was an annoying jerk, but I didn’t think for a minute he posed any danger. Seriously, he was going to hand me over to Ahmad?”
“Listen, I feel responsible. Morrow and I both thought you’d be safe there. But I guess a ten million dollar bounty can make people rethink their priorities.”
“Yeah, the phrase out of the frying pan and into the fire springs to mind. Maybe I should just come back to Sinful.”
“No, no, no. Let’s give it another couple days. Things haven’t quite settled down here. Anyway, it looks like your guardian angel was looking out for you this time.”
“Harrison, was Jodie Gordon working with anyone?”
“No indication of that so far, but we’re still looking into it But in the meantime, be careful.”
“Be careful? That’s real helpful, Harrison. It wouldn’t have occurred to me otherwise.”
“You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?”
“You think?”
Chapter Twelve
Fortune emerged from her bedroom, went over to the sink, filled a glass of water, and gulped it down. The empathetic Mary-Alice perceived that Fortune’s nerves seemed to be back.
“Well, we have the whole day in front of us. What are we going to do?” Mary-Alice asked cheerfully.
“Actually, Mary-Alice, I’m feeling a little sick to my stomach. I think I’m going to lie down. Don’t let me spoil your vacation for you. Why don’t you go explore the town?”
Fortune retreated to her bedroom, looking positively greenish.
“I’ll see if I can find you some chamomile and ginger tea,” Mary-Alice called as she slung her purse over her shoulder. “It does absolute wonders for a tummy ache.”
Mary-Alice made her way back to the farmers’ market. She was curious about the nefarious Miss Jasmine, but her table had so many people crowding around, waiting to get their fortunes told, that Mary-Alice couldn’t get close. Instead she went over to where Nadia and Blaze had their booth. Although it was punishingly hot under the canopy, Nadia hadn’t removed her pink cowboy hat, nor rolled up the sleeves of her Western shirt.
Mary-Alice bought tomatoes, lettuce, and a bunch of skinny Japanese eggplants, figuring she could fry it up, no matter the shape. She dropped the groceries off at the apartment, careful not to disturb Fortune, whose bedroom door was closed. Then she went back downstairs and strolled up to the public library, where she passed a few hours in the lovely outdoor reading area. When it started to get dark she thought of calling Fortune, but decided not to, in case she was asleep. Cooking might disturb her too, if she was a light sleeper. Bringing dinner home would be the best option in this case.
When Mary-Alice returned to the apartment she found Fortune sitting at the kitchen table staring at her open laptop. Fortune snapped her laptop shut and gave Mary-Alice a rather forced-looking smile.
“Mary-Alice, is that a pizza box?”
“Yes it is. Oh, Fortune, I was afraid that the only sort of pizza available would be the ‘Hawaiian’ kind. You know, with the pineapple and ham?” Mary-Alice set the box on the table. “I mean to say, I suppose pineapple and ham would do in a pinch, but it’s certainly not my favorite. Imagine how relieved I was to see all the ordinary kinds of pizza toppings they had available. I don’t believe pineapple was even an option, can you imagine? Anyway, I got half pepperoni and half plain cheese.”
Mary-Alice and Fortune settled in to enjoy their pizza. Mary-Alice noticed Fortune kept glancing at the front door. She was every bit as on edge as she’d been in the business lounge at Lake Charles Airport.
And then a knock on the door caused Fortune’s pizza to stop halfway to her mouth.
“We’re not interested,” she called
out.
Whoever it was knocked again, and suddenly Fortune was standing, both hands on a large pistol, aiming at the door.
“Fortune!” Mary-Alice whispered.
Fortune stood for a few moments and then stuck the firearm into the back of her waistband (where had she been keeping it? Mary-Alice wondered). She went to the door and peered out the peephole.
Then she rolled her eyes and opened the door.
“Good evening, officer,” Fortune said evenly.
“Sandy-Sue Redding?” the police officer asked.
“Unfortunately.”
“Do you know a man named Jodie Gordon?”
The officer sat at the kitchen table. Mary-Alice offered him pizza and he declined, so she resigned herself to not eating any pizza until he left. Fortune, on the other hand, casually munched a slice as the officer asked questions.
Neither Mary-Alice nor Fortune could enlighten the officer as to Jodie Gordon’s recent activities and whereabouts, but they did tell him about the fight over the papaya tree. The officer was not surprised to hear it. Judging from his suppressed eye roll, such conflicts were not unusual.
“What a terrible thing to have happen,” Mary-Alice said when the police officer had left.
“No big loss. Jodie Gordon was a jerk.” Fortune sat back down at the kitchen table and happily helped herself to a slice of pizza. Mary-Alice stared, shocked by Fortune’s lack of sentiment. “Hey, you do anything interesting today?”
Mary-Alice collected herself. Fortune was clearly not a very good traveler. Every time they moved, Fortune seemed to get rattled. She most likely couldn’t help it, and it wouldn’t do to condemn her for it. Perhaps if she told Fortune about her day, it might be enough of a distraction to calm Fortune’s nerves.
“I went back and visited the farmers’ market first thing,” Mary-Alice said. “I made sure to buy some vegetables from Nadia and that man Blaze. She had these Japanese eggplants that she said were very sweet and tender, and don’t need to be salted before cooking, so I thought I’d try fixing us some eggplant fritters.”
