The Miss Fortune Series: Overdue (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Shari Hearn

  “First rule of working around kids,” she said, “is never think about where the things they stick in books come from. Just wear your latex gloves, wash your hands in half a bottle of Sinful Ladies Cough Syrup when you get home, and drink the rest. You’ll be all right.”

  She leaned in and whispered, “Myrtle just texted the compiled list of people observed in the library yesterday,” before slipping a piece of paper in my hand. “Ida Belle and I starred the names of people who might have had a grudge against Waddell, along with the reasons why.”

  I opened the paper and scanned the names. In our strategy session yesterday we had decided that I would take advantage of my temporary librarian status and interview people on the list. Carter was sure to be interviewing these people as well. If I could find a way into their homes by way of official library business, that would head off any suspicion from Carter about me interfering in his investigation.

  At least in theory. I knew Carter better than that. And he knew us. The three of us going around his back now, particularly since he’d found out about our “special training,” was going to be tougher.

  As I looked over the list, Gertie said they added the name of Lila Rose Fontaine, Waddell’s aunt. “She’s an author, or at least she used to be, before her breakdown a few years ago. According to Myrtle’s sources, Lila Rose hired Waddell to do odd jobs for her and helped him out financially in the past with some gambling debts. She might know whether he was in debt to anyone now.”

  “Is Lila Rose a member of the SLS?”

  Gertie shook her head. “For one thing, she hasn’t been ‘without man’ for the requisite number of years to be a Sinful Lady. Her husband died four years ago.”

  “Without man” was crucial to the philosophy of the Sinful Ladies Society. According to them, men made women wonky, or something like that, so a woman had to either never have married, or not been married for at least ten years prior to membership. When I first heard of the SLS I thought the membership requirements were too strict. Having had my judgment clouded by my relationship with Carter, though, I now fully understood their reasoning.

  Gertie continued, “Besides, Lila Rose is Catholic and leans more toward Celia’s God’s Wives. It wouldn’t look natural for an SLS gal to pop over there for a chat. Any way you can show up on official library business?”

  I casually slipped her a list of people with overdue books that Lucy had given me. In addition to scraping mysterious blobs out of returned books, I was also responsible for contacting the people on the overdue book list and asking for the books’ swift return. Lila Rose Fontaine had a book that was several days overdue.

  “I think it’s time the Sinful Library got serious about collecting overdue fines,” I said, smiling.

  * * * * *

  Conning Lucy into allowing me to make home visits on behalf of the library had been easy. I had a feeling she was spooked to be working so close to me anyway, given my proximity to many of the murders that had plagued Sinful since my arrival. In fact, not only could I contact those with overdue books, but Lucy had shoved a Sinful residential map in my hands with instructions to recruit new patrons as well as accept donations of books.

  “And take your friends with you,” she had said, pointing to Gertie and Ida Belle.

  Our first priority was to talk to all those who had either been to the library yesterday or who might have a grudge against Waddell. We each took five names and headed out.

  My first stop was the home of CJ Banks, the author of Murder in Pancake Junction. Not only had Mr. Banks been in the library yesterday, most likely at the same time as Waddell, but he was also on the overdue book list. Though Lila Rose would probably yield the most promising leads about Waddell’s enemies, Carter could smell my involvement a mile away if he found out I went to her house first. I had to make it look natural and talk to the first person on the list Lucy gave me.

  And that would be you, Pancake Boy. A heavy, iron letter “B” hung from his apartment door on a leather rope, serving as a knocker.

  I had meant for my visit to be short, but Mr. Banks had other ideas, inviting me in for coffee and apple fritters while he hunted down the overdue book. Halfway through my fritter he came back into the living room.

  “Success!” he said, waiving the book in the air. “Unfortunately, I spilled coffee on it last night.”

  He handed the book to me. Half of the cover of the book was stained. A good portion of the pages were dry, but bloated from having been wet.

  “Obviously I can’t return it in this condition, can I? Tell me how much the replacement fee is, and I’ll pay it,” he said, taking the book from my hands.

  I glanced at my overdue list. “twenty-three total.”

  He shrugged and took his wallet from his back pocket, handing me five twenties. “Luckily my own books are doing quite well. Why don’t you use the rest to stock the librarians’ lounge?”

  “That’s awfully generous.”

  He shrugged again. “Well, serves me right for not turning the book in when I first stepped inside the library yesterday. But then the whole tragedy occurred with Waddell and we were all told to leave the building.” He shook his head. “I heard he died.”

  I nodded. “Did you know him?”

  “Of course I did. Sinful’s a small town, Miss Morrow, and it’d be hard not to know Waddell. He’s done odd jobs for most everybody, me included.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t imagine who could do such a thing.” Took a sip of my coffee. “Can you?”

  “You want the short-story version or the full novel?”

  I put my coffee on the side table. “He had enemies?”

  “Number one,” CJ said, holding up the index finger of his left hand, “he couldn’t stay away from women with wedding rings on their fingers. At least, that’s what he was bragging about last week after I hired him to paint my fence. Number two,” he said adding another finger, “Waddell’s odd jobs encompassed anything anybody wanted. He mentioned to me that he was branching out, acting as a courier. He didn’t go into details, but if he was delivering something illegal for the wrong person…”

  CJ held up a third finger. “And, number three, Waddell was a gambler. Although, from what I heard, his aunt bailed him out most of those times.”

  “His aunt? Lila Rose Fontaine? The author?”

  He nodded. “And quite an accomplished one. I should be so lucky to achieve her level of success.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Though I’ve heard she’s become a little… eccentric.”

  It had taken me six weeks of living in Sinful to realize that the word, “eccentric” was polite speak for “crazy.”

  “Who knows,” CJ said in his normal speaking level, “maybe Lila Rose wised up and decided it was time for him to pay his own debts.” He shook his head. “Deputy LeBlanc sure has one mess on his hands with this one.”

  The next name on my overdue list, Florine Cormier, didn’t have much to say about Waddell except that her cats didn’t like him. All twenty of them. I collected the three dollars and fifty cents in fines for the ten days her book was overdue. Oddly enough, it was a book about a detective and his basset hound.

  I finally came to the third, and what I considered the most important name on my list, Lila Rose Fontaine, Waddell’s aunt. Maybe she could narrow down some of the numerous leads that CJ Banks provided.

  Carter was leaving Lila Rose’s house as I got out of my Jeep. He shook his head, one side of his mouth turning upward. He was expecting me.

  “Carter,” I said as I approached him coming down the woman’s walkway. Lord help me I wanted to kiss him.

  “So this is the way it’s going to be now?” he asked, folding his arms. “You’re not even going to hide your interference in my investigation?”

  I held up the overdue list from the library. “Official library business.”

  He took the list from me and scanned it.

  “As you can tell from the check marks, I’ve already visited two
scofflaws already. Lila Rose is third on the list.”

  “The library is now sending a librarian to collect the fines? Whose idea was that?”

  “All Lucy’s.”

  “With a little assist from you?”

  “Hey, someone has to get tough with overdue offenders. Oh, by the way, check out number five. You owe us thirty-five cents. I hope Ten Steps to Better Fly Fishing was worth it.”

  “I’ll drop it by the library later.”

  He handed back the list.

  I nodded toward the house. “How’s Mrs. Fontaine holding up since her nephew’s death?”

  “She’s shocked, of course, but they weren’t really that close. She used him for odd jobs like everyone else. But you’re not going to ask her anything about Waddell, are you? You’re going to ask for the overdue book and fine and move on to the next name, right?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not going to ask about Waddell.” Because a good operative doesn’t have to ask. All I need to do is get her talking.

  We stood awkwardly, him shifting on his feet, me folding the overdue list once, twice, three times, then unfolding, then refolding.

  “I guess I’d better go,” I said. “You take care.” How I hated saying that. You take care was something you said to someone you didn’t intend to see for a while.

  “You too.”

  He walked to his truck and I walked to Lila Rose’s front door. I didn’t look back to see if he tossed me a glance before he took off. This constant saying goodbye really sucked. But I couldn’t dwell on whether staying in Sinful was the correct decision. Right now I had a job to do. Setting aside my feelings about Carter was easier once I slipped into operative mode. Whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, it worked for me.

  I was hoping Lila Rose would answer my knock. Instead, it was her daughter, Janice. Late twenties, she had a harried look about her. Of course, she’d just been questioned by Carter, so that could explain some of it. Hopefully her mother would be in a position to talk. After exchanging pleasantries, I explained who I was and asked if her mother was available.

  “Is this about my cousin, Waddell? My mother already spoke with Deputy LeBlanc about him.”

  “Actually,” I said, “I’m sorry about the timing and all, but…” I shook my head. “I knew this was a bad idea, but Lucy insisted.” I wrinkled my nose. “I’m here to pick up an overdue book.”

  Janice shook her head and sighed. “Mom’s always forgetting to tell me when a book needs returning.”

  Just then a woman appeared behind Janice. “Did I hear you say you’re a librarian?”

  “She’s here to pick up an overdue book, Mom. You go back to your writing. I’ll get it for her.”

  “You do that, Janice. And she’ll wait with me.”

  “Mom, you just took your medicine. Maybe you should rest.”

  “Oh, it was just a pill to help me relax. Honestly, I’m not an invalid.”

  Janice’s face betrayed her concern. She extended her arm firmly in front of her mother and placed her hand on the door jam. “Maybe I should bring the book in later today. It might take a while to find.”

  Lila Rose dipped beneath Janice’s arm and stepped outside. “Good. That will give our guest and me time for a glass of sweet tea.”

  Janice placed her hand on her mother’s shoulder. “Mother…”

  Lila Rose removed Janice’s hand and gently nudged her daughter inside the house. “Go now.”

  Janice forced a smile at me. “I shouldn’t be long.”

  All sorts of alarm bells were going off in my head. What was up with Lila Rose’s daughter, and why was she trying to prevent her mother from talking to me?

  Lila Rose waited while her daughter disappeared into the house, then turned to me. “I have a habit of shelving my library books in with my own collection, so it may take her a while. You do like sweet tea, don’t you?”

  “Yes, in fact I do.”

  “Then let’s you and I have a glass while sitting on the porch out back overlooking the bayou.”

  Jackpot.

  She shut the front door behind her. “The house is in disarray because we’re having some remodeling done, so let’s walk around the path to the back, shall we?”

  A few minutes later Lila Rose and I were sipping sweet tea on a wide deck overlooking the water. Ida Belle had explained that Lila Rose suffered some sort of breakdown about five years ago that had shut down her writing career. I had no idea what those emotional issues were, but she seemed totally fine to me. Her daughter, Janice, however, seemed nervous as she popped her head out of one of the windows and asked Lila Rose where she might have left the library book.

  “Try the top shelf of the blue bookcase in my study,” she said, waving her hand in the air. After Janice pulled her head back inside, Lila Rose whispered to me. “It’s actually on the bookshelf on the east wall of my library. So we’ve got lots of time to chat.”

  Wearing denim shorts and a crisp, white T-shirt, Lila Rose looked younger than the mid-fifties that she was, with shoulder-length, salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a ponytail.

  “So… you’re here for an overdue book. Shame on me for book hoarding,” she said after taking a sip of tea. “And for such a dreadful book, too. The author didn’t write it, she gave birth to it. What an awful, bloody mess that one was.” She held up a plate of cookies. “Care for a jelly delight?”

  “Uh, sure,” I said, taking one from the plate. “You’re a writer as well?”

  “I was anyway. Okay, I still am.” She looked back at the door to the house. “I tinker a bit. Actually, a lot. I have for years. I’ve written three completed series, one with more than seven installments. I just don’t show them to anyone anymore. Even my daughter is prohibited from reading them.”

  “Why not let people read them?”

  “Because I write for my characters. Not my agent, not my publisher, and not the reviewers. My characters tell me what to write, and I only make changes for them. And if the powers that be have a problem with it, screw ‘em.”

  Yes, she was odd, but I liked this woman’s attitude.

  “It must be ‘author’s-with-overdue-books day,’” I said. “I just visited with one of your fellow writers.”

  “Fellow writers?” She asked, puzzled.

  “CJ Banks?”

  “Him?” she hissed. “He’s a hack. He vomits one dreadful book after another. And, no, I haven’t read all of his messes. I read several of his earlier works and vowed never to do so again. Life is too short for such nonsense. And, yes, I know that he has a successful series out now. Lord knows how. The declining tastes of readers is all I can surmise.”

  She took a bite of cookie and swallowed it with a sip of tea. “But I’m guessing you really didn’t come over to hear me eviscerate other authors. You want to know what I told Deputy LeBlanc about Waddell’s untimely death.”

  I pulled up my eyebrows. I wasn’t feigning surprise. I was surprised. I held up my list. “You’re on the list of overdue books. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Do you realize how many times I’ve had overdue books? And this is the only time I’ve been visited by the Library Police.”

  “Actually, I’m just a visiting librarian. Just helping out for a few days.”

  She folded her arms. “You’re a friend of Ida Belle and Gertie. They have their noses so far up everyone’s hindquarters in this town I’m surprised they can still breathe. I’ll be honest with you. They’ve never been friends of mine. However, I do admire them. They’re strong women. Hell, this town probably would have fallen apart had they not been running things all these years. But they’re too nosey. And it wouldn’t surprise me if they sent you here to snoop around.”

  I shifted in the wicker chair. “Well, now that you brought Waddell’s name up—”

  “I brought him up?” Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “You keep telling yourself that.”

  I liked her a lot. “I heard you lent him money in the past to cover
gambling debts.”

  “And who told you that?”

  I shrugged.

  “Ida Belle? Damn that woman! How’d she know about that?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve only been in Sinful for six weeks. I’m still trying to figure Ida Belle out.” Actually, that wasn’t a lie.

  “Well, she’s right about that, although I wouldn’t call them loans. Waddell could be a handful, and never made anything out of himself, but he was my sister’s son, God rest her soul.” She made the sign of the cross over her chest. “Luckily this past year he must have turned his life around because he stopped coming to me for gambling money. And he stopped charging me for work he was doing around the house.” She sipped her tea then continued, “I have more than enough money, so I didn’t really care if he ever paid me back. All my series are still enjoying brisk sales. And my husband left me two highly productive oil wells, so I don’t want for much.” She glanced back at the door to the house. “Just don’t let my daughter, Janice, hear me say that. She’s always thought I was frivolous with my money. If I let her run things, I’d be kowtowing to the publishers and churning out crap, and hoarding every penny.”

  Well, that certainly piqued my interest.

  “And, no, she didn’t kill Waddell,” Lila Rose said. “Not that she doesn’t know her way around a needle. The dog is very high-strung and requires a shot of tranquilizer on occasion. In fact, we have an emergency fanny pack we take with us when we walk her, equipped with treats and a syringe at the ready. Janice is the one who handles all that. Lord knows she won’t let me do it. But, hell, even I know a thing or two about needles. I’m a mystery writer. I’ve consulted umpteen medical professionals while researching facts for my books. But it’s one thing to know how to kill someone, quite another to have the capacity for murder. And though you won’t find Janice grieving much for Waddell, she doesn’t possess the capacity for murder.”

  “So who does?” I took a bite from the cookie. Peanut butter with a grape jelly filling. “P B and J,” I said, holding the cookie up. “My favorite.”

  “Of course they are,” she said. Odd. Her voice seemed to deepen. Her seated posture, which had been slightly stiff in the chair, was now more relaxed. She grasped my knee and firmly shook it. “What were we talking about again?”