by Sam Cheever
“Dad, this isn’t a tea party. You still haven’t explained what’s going on.”
“If he’s smart he won’t say anything.”
We all jumped and turned toward the strange, new voice.
As soon as I saw him, the memory I’d been trying to glom onto outside fell into place. “You!”
The thug from the Backwater glanced my way, one eyebrow cranking upward from the middle. “I knew you’d lead me to him eventually.”
“You know this guy, Felly?”
“Unfortunately we’ve met. Sort of.”
“Your daughter and her boyfriend are staying at the same motel where I was.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“You’re sharing a room.”
Felonius scalded me with a look, his jaw tightening.
Ida Belle and Gertie gave me thumbs up. ‘
“Cal is not my boyfriend!”
“It’s not important,” Father said. “What is important is that these ladies have nothing to do with this, Rouse.”
The thug smiled, the gun unwavering. “I’m afraid they’ve made themselves part of it, Chance. And I have to say I’m glad they did. I’d have never found you out here in the swamp.”
Eyeing the gun the thug from the motel was holding, my father eased himself in front of me. The ladies stepped back.
“Everybody stop moving!” Rouse yelled.
Like a bad game of Simon Says we all stopped mid-motion.
The thug reached for something in his back pocket and came up with a pair of hand cuffs. My gaze slid toward Ida Belle and jerked downward.
She narrowed her gaze for a moment and then nodded.
I prayed she’d gotten the message I was trying to send.
The thug moved closer. “Put your hands behind your back Mr. Chance and turn around.”
My father widened his arms, shielding me. “No. Let them go, Rouse. This is between me and Nicolai. I don’t want them harmed.”
Rouse moved closer. “I got my orders, Chance. If you cooperate nobody else needs to get hurt.”
When Rouse was a foot away I yelled, “Now!”
Gertie and Ida Belle each grabbed a corner of the aquarium and pulled, knocking it over with a thud.
The two gators shot out of the thing, hissing angrily, and I hit the nearest chair, squealing as they headed right for me. My father launched himself at the guy with the gun, both of them dancing around the snapping jaws of the gator babies.
I realized pretty quickly that my father—a man who’d made a killing in the financial world but who couldn’t kill much else outside of a few bugs—didn’t have a chance against the muscular thug.
So I did the only thing I could think of to do. I grabbed my twenty-pound alligator purse and swung it toward the thug’s head. It landed with a meaty sounding thwuck and he tensed, his eyes rolling back into his head before he toppled to the floor like a giant redwood.
One of the babies snapped angrily at his arm and missed and then turned and hightailed it out of the cabin just behind its sibling.
Gertie and Ida Belle came up on either side of me. We all looked down at the unconscious thug.
“I think you killed him,” Gertie said.
“Serves him right,” Ida Belle responded.
“I panicked.” I looked at my dad. “Is he dead?”
Felonius Chance dropped to one knee and felt the guy’s throat. He frowned and I braced for bad news. A few beats later I couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. “Well?”
My dad blew out a frustrated breath, dropping his hand. “How the hell do I know? I can’t feel anything.”
“He’s dead!” I wailed.
He lifted his hands, climbing to his feet. “I didn’t say that, Felly. I’ve never been able to feel a pulse, not even on myself. It’s not as easy as they make it look on TV.”
“His chest is moving,” Gertie observed.
I pulled air into my lungs. “Oh thank god!”
“Here, help me get him in a chair,” father said. “We’ll use his cuffs to keep him there.”
A few minutes and much huffing and puffing later we all took a step back, panting. We’d pulled his arms between the slats in the back of the chair and cuffed them together. Then we’d bound his ankles to the legs of the chair with two of my father’s belts.
“That should hold him,” father said.
I pulled out my cell phone. “I’ll call Cal.”
Felonius placed a hand over my phone, pulling it away from my ear. “No, Felly.”
“What do you mean, no? This guy killed Bubba.”
“And he would have killed me too.”
“But we got him,” I argued.
“Yes. But he’s just one small cog in a huge, dangerous machine. Once his bosses find out where he is they’ll come to Sinful looking for me.”
“Then we’ll give you a head start,” Ida Belle said. “Get your stuff together and hit the road.”
My father held my gaze for a long moment, his dark blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, honey. I wish it could be different.”
I sniffled. “Okay. Yeah. Ida Belle’s right. Go get lost again. But let me know how you’re doing okay?”
He nodded.
The thug groaned.
“He’s coming to.” Gertie reached for my purse. “Give me that thing. I’ll do it this time.”
I jerked my purse away from her. “We’re not hitting him again. He’s tied up, he can’t do anything.”
“Keep an eye on him and hit him again if he tries anything. I’ll be right back.” Father left the room, going through a door that I suspected led to a bedroom.
Rouse’s head snapped up and fire lit his gaze. “Let me go. You bitches are making a horrible mistake.”
“You’re the one tied to a chair.” I told him. “Not us.”
“Check my right pants pocket. You’ll find a badge.”
I shared a shocked look with Ida Belle and Gertie. “You’re lying.”
“Check my pocket.”
I grimaced. “I’m not sticking my hand down there.”
“I’ll do it!” Gertie jumped forward and jammed her hand into the man’s jeans. He jumped, wincing. “Hey, watch what you’re grabbin’, lady!”
Gertie’s hand came out holding a small, leather wallet. She was grinning when she returned to Ida Belle and me. I took the wallet from her and grimaced. He hadn’t been lying.
Out thug was Detective Paul Rouse from the Indianapolis police.
“Shit. He is a cop.”
“This is not good,” Ida Belle murmured. Gertie expelled air like a pierced balloon.
“I’m here to take your father into protective custody. We want to offer him a deal…put him into witness protection.”
“What the hell is he mixed up in?”
“He was managing the finances of a man named Nicolai Ruchoff. He’s the oldest son of one of the leaders in a local band of Russian Mafia. A key player. We’ve been watching Ruchoff for several months now. I was embedded deep in the organization when I got word that your father had overheard something he shouldn’t have. I was sent to kill him.”
I blinked. “Wait, I thought you were a cop?”
“I am. Try to keep up. I don’t like to repeat myself.”
Ida Belle nodded. “Word.”
“I offered to take the hit because I was trying to save your father’s life.”
“Oh.” I frowned. “I don’t believe you. I think you’re scamming me.”
My father reappeared and headed toward us, slinging a backpack over one shoulder. “Nicolai trusted you like a brother, Rouse.”
“That’s called good undercover work, Chance. Now release me and let me take you back to Indy. We’re prepared to give you a sweet deal in exchange for immunity and witness protection.”
“I don’t need immunity. I didn’t do anything illegal. If he was funneling dirty money into his accounts, that’s not my responsibility.”
Rouse cran
ked a slow arch into his eyebrow but didn’t comment.
“Dad, maybe you should take him up on it.”
“Listen to your daughter, Chance. You won’t last a year out there without protection.”
My father kissed me on the forehead and headed out the door. “Funny. I’ve done all right for eight months on my own.”
“And you got an innocent man killed.”
My dad stopped in the doorway, his hand on the frame. “I’m deeply sorry for that. It was…unexpected.” He turned back finally, glaring at Rouse. “I figured you killed him because you thought he was me.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know what to do when I found out Bubba was dead. I wanted to run…but I thought you were still out there.” He glared at Rouse. “And when Felicity showed up I couldn’t leave her here with you.”
“I didn’t kill nobody, you ass.”
“Then how did you find me?”
Rouse looked at me, his eyes narrowing in speculation. “I was on that stinky island that day. Got there too late to save your guy. But I saw someone…”
I was uncomfortable with the way he was looking at me. “Who did you see?”
“You. At least I thought it was you. Nicholai has a woman on his payroll who does wet work. I’ve never met her but I heard she was pretty, blonde. So when I saw you on the island that day…” He shook his head. “I figured I’d follow you until you found the right guy.”
“It wasn’t me. I wouldn’t try to kill my own father.”
“Yeah. I know that now.” Rouse shook his head. “But that means the killer is still out there.”
A sick feeling had moved into the pit of my stomach when Rouse described the killer. I glanced toward Ida Belle and she was frowning. She shook her head. “I don’t like the look on your face, girl.”
I chewed my bottom lip. “You know I’m right.”
Gertie looked from one to the other of us, frowning. “What? Who?”
I jerked my head toward Rouse. “Let him go. I’ll call Cal.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lena Borne was just locking up her shop when we arrived. I was relieved Sheriff Robert E. Lee hadn’t ridden his half-dead nag out of town for the arrest. Instead a truly yummy Deputy LeBlanc climbed out of the biggest truck I’d ever seen and approached Lena with a frown and a hand on his gun.
Lena took one look at the deputy and burst into tears. “I saw the gold and I just…” She sucked in a shaky breath. “I don’t know what came over me. We needed the money so bad.”
She hung her head as LeBlanc stated the charge. “Lena Borne, I’m arresting you for the murder of the man known as Bayou Bubba.” He read Lena her rights and I rubbed tears from my cheeks. I couldn’t help feeling bad for the woman who’d given in to a moment of madness and would live with the result for the rest of her life.
Lena continued to babble, her guilt apparently too much for her. “I just wanted a few of the pieces of gold. But he…” She sobbed. “He tried to swallow them to keep them from me.” She shuddered, her gaze sliding to me. “I’m so sorry.”
Ida Belle stood with her arms crossed over her chest, frowning at Deputy LeBlanc as if it was his fault Lena was getting arrested.
I gave in to an impulse to drop an arm around her shoulders and hug her. She felt so small and insubstantial. Her oversized personality made her seem invincible, but in that moment she was struggling just as hard as I was to deal with the tragedy. “I’m sorry about your friend,” I told her.
Her lips quivered and she nodded. Then she dragged the back of her hand ruthlessly over her wet cheeks and stepped away from me. “Me and Gertie will go find Lyle. I don’t want him to hear this through the gossips.”
I nodded. “I’ll catch a ride back with Cal.”
Gertie gave me a hug and patted my cheek. “Make sure you say goodbye before you leave town.”
“I will. I promise.”
Cal stood beside me, silently supportive. I felt his heat like a warm binky on a dreary day. Once Lena was loaded into the deputy’s massive truck, LeBlanc turned his intense gaze on me and swept it on to Cal. “Let’s debrief in the morning.”
“See you then.” Cal dropped an arm around my shoulders as the deputy pulled away. “You all right?”
I nodded, sniffling.
Lena was barely visible through the back windows. She looked like a child sitting back there. Her teary gaze caught mine as Deputy LeBlanc backed the truck around to pull into the road.
I gave her a smile. It felt so inadequate but she put her fingers on the glass in a kind of farewell gesture.
“You ready to head back to town?”
I let him lead me toward the Jeep. “Do you think my father will be okay?”
Cal opened the door for me. “He’ll be fine. But once he goes into protection you won’t be able to see him. Are you all right with that?”
I slid into my seat. “I guess I don’t have much choice.” He closed the door and walked around the car. As he slid into his seat I touched his arm. “Thanks for helping me find him. I realize I’ve never told you how much it means to me.”
He held my gaze for a beat and then smiled, the action completely transforming his gorgeous features from stern and fearsome to mouthwatering. “I hate to admit it, but it’s been fun.”
That surprised a laugh out of me. “It has been fun, hasn’t it?” I thought about that as he pulled out onto the highway and headed back toward Sinful. “Well, most of it has anyway.”
“Yeah. I meant to ask. What did happen to your face?”
I frowned, rubbing the fabric burns I’d managed to forget until he reminded me. “Shut up.”
###
The next morning, Cal went to the sheriff’s office to close the loop with Deputy LeBlanc while I met the ladies for a goodbye breakfast.
It was fun filling Fortune in on our adventures of the day before.
I spooned up the last bite of banana pudding and sat back, rubbing my tummy happily.
“Who eats banana pudding for breakfast,” Gertie asked, shaking her head.
I eyed her plate of syrup-drenched chocolate chip pancakes critically. “Somebody who’s never going to get to taste it again.”
“Don’t say that, Felicity.” Ida Belle arched a thin eyebrow. “I was hoping you’d come back occasionally to do some fishing.” She leered at me, making my stomach jump with alarm. “Feel free to bring your good-looking PI back with you. He’s fun to look at.”
Gertie nodded enthusiastically, pushing her plate away. “Word.”
Fortune cocked her head. “So what was the deal between your dad and Bubba? You never said.”
“Cal and I talked to dad last night before Rouse hustled him away to protective custody. He knew there was a small chance someone might track him through the gold so, when he ran into Bubba in New Orleans he hired him to be his go between with the pawn shop.”
“And paid him in gold?” Fortune nodded. “I’m guessing he used gold because it couldn’t be easily traced like credit?”
I nodded. “He said he couldn’t empty his accounts for cash. The guys who were looking for him were watching his bank. So he grabbed what he had in the safe at home and took off. He figured he could turn the gold into cash along the way.”
“But you noticed the gold was missing and told Cal to watch for it.”
“Yep.”
“That was smart.” Ida Belle nodded approvingly. Her approval made me feel good. I knew from being around her for just a couple of days that she didn’t give it easily.
The waitress I’d met the day before arrived with our checks. Ida Belle and Gertie stood and wrapped me in a hug. “Take care of yourself, honey,” Gertie said.
“Come back and see us,” Ida Belle added gruffly. She grabbed my check and I thanked her for breakfast.
The old ladies headed for the front register, arguing over who was going to drive home.
Fortune took the check Ally handed her. “Thanks. You going out in the boat later?”
; “I’m off after lunch. Should I stop by and pick you up?”
Fortune stood. “Yep. In the meantime I’m gonna go run off some of this food.”
Just like that, a memory clicked into place and I suddenly knew where I’d met Fortune before. Only Fortune hadn’t been her name then.
I stepped closer to her as Ally walked away. “I remembered where we’ve met before.”
Fortune’s smile slipped away and her eyes grew cold—empty like a shark’s. “No. You don’t. You’re never going to remember that, Felicity. For your own sake. And for the sake of everyone you love.”
My eyes widened and I swallowed a fist-sized lump in my throat. “Oh. Um. Yeah, I was mistaken. It must have been some other girl who broke our high school’s record in the fifty-yard dash…four years in a row.”
Some of the dead leached out of Fortune’s gaze and her lips quirked up at the corners, so briefly I thought for a minute I’d imagined it. “You have a safe flight back to Indianapolis, Felicity.” She started to walk away and stopped, turning back to me. “I wouldn’t come back for that fishing trip Ida Belle was talking about.”
I nodded. Then, as she started to leave I couldn’t resist adding, “Just so you know, that girl was my hero…in track. I wanted to be just like her.”
She held my gaze for a beat before dipping her head slightly in acknowledgement.
I turned and walked out of Francine’s Café, knowing I’d probably never come back to Sinful.
The thought made me sad. I kind of missed it already.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
USA Today Bestselling Author Sam Cheever writes romantic paranormal/fantasy and mystery/suspense, creating stories that celebrate the joy of love in all its forms. Known for writing great characters, snappy dialogue, and unique and exhilarating stories, Sam is the award-winning author of 50+ books and has been writing for over a decade under several noms de plume.
