by Sam Cheever
Gertie’s hand stilled as a man who was even taller than the first guy came through the door behind the fleshy mountain. He slid a cold, black gaze over us and tucked his thumbs into the waistline of his silk suit, allowing a big, black gun to show underneath. I recognized Mannie from the boat store.
“Big,” Ida Belle said by way of greeting. “What’s going on?”
He eyed me up and down, seemingly ignoring Ida Belle. “Little told me you’d recruited a fourth Musketeer. I didn’t believe him, but now I see he wasn’t lying.” The man Ida Belle had called Big smiled. “He wasn’t lying about you being beautiful either.”
My mouth fell open. I’d never been so brazenly sexualized before and I had to say I didn’t like it. I bit back a smart response and offered him my hand. “Felicity Chance. It’s nice to meet you…Big.” I lifted an eyebrow to let him know I thought his name was stupid. Unfortunately, it didn’t have quite the effect I’d hoped for.
He laughed. “Felicity? Really?” He looked at my two friends. “You’re hanging out with Miss Fortune and Miss Chance?” He held his massive belly and succumbed to hearty laughter, his large form shaking and wobbling as he fought to catch his breath.
Behind him, Mannie was laughing too, but he didn’t look like he was so amused as to be unable to reach for the gun at his shoulder if the need arose.
Finally, Big wound down and, wiping tears from his eyes, nodded toward the table. Mannie moved quickly forward, grabbing two chairs and shoving them together. Big lowered himself to the chairs and sniffled. His wide face was red and he was panting from his bout of hilarity.
I glared at him.
He didn’t seem to notice. He was eyeing the rest of the chocolate pie. His big paw snaked out and pulled the dish close. He looked at Gertie, who still stood by the counter. “Fork?”
“I’ll get you a plate too,” she said with a quelling look that reminded me of my seventh grade English teacher, Mrs. Trout.
Big dragged a thick finger through the whipped cream on the top. “No need. I’ll just use this one.”
“What can we do for you,” Ida Belle asked.
The big man took the fork Gertie handed him and cut off a big bite of pie, shoving it into his wide mouth. His lips were painted with whipped cream as he closed his eyes in pleasure. “Amazing. I need this recipe.”
Gertie crossed her arms over her chest as he cut off another huge bite. “I’ll have to get back to you on that. Our friend Ally made it.”
He nodded, grabbing a napkin from the holder in the center of the table. “You do that.” He glanced at Mannie. “Why don’t you wait outside.”
“Boss…”
Big lifted a single eyebrow and Mannie slammed his lips closed on any further argument.
Big continued to eat pie until it was gone. Then settling back with a moan, he patted his lips. “That’s the best pie I’ve had all year. Your friend is very talented.”
“We’ll be sure to pass on your approval.” Ida Belle didn’t look like she really intended to tell Ally anything of the kind.
Big’s mouth tightened slightly but he nodded, dropping the fork into the empty plate and shoving it away. “You’re wondering why I came for a visit?”
“Visits don’t generally start with breaking and entering,” I told him.
He glanced my way and I tensed. His lips quivered as if he was thinking about rolling around laughing again.
“Or stealing pie,” I added.
Gertie nodded enthusiastically.
Big belched softly. “I see your point. I apologize. I missed my dinner tonight and I’m afraid my manners suffer when I’m hungry.”
“What brings you here, Big?” Ida Belle tried again.
“I’m afraid you and I have a problem.” He slid a glance my way. “Miss Chance’s arrangements with her father have caused my business some difficulty.”
“I…uh…what do you mean?” I stuttered.
“I mean Russians, Miss Chance. Gutter born northerners with no concept of manners or consideration for how things need to be done in Louisiana. You brought them to my front door and they seem to think I know where your father is.” Big cocked his massive head, narrowing his gaze on me. “Can you see how this might be a difficulty, Miss Chance?”
I swallowed and my throat stuck, making me cough.
“Surely you understand that we didn’t lead them there on purpose,” Ida Belle told him with a frown.
Big shrugged, the movement sending his massive frame into motion…like quicksand rippling outward from a flailing buffalo at its center. “It doesn’t matter to me whether you intended to drop this trouble on my doorstep. It only matters that you have. Now you ladies need to fix it. Or I’m going to have to do it myself. And if I am forced to engage my usual…tactics…I risk bringing a war down around my shoulders. I’m sure you can understand why I want to avoid that.”
All three of our heads bobbed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Big.”
He favored me with a look that softened as he took in my terror-infused apology. Shoving himself slowly to his feet, Big splayed his thick fingers on the tabletop. The action made him pant and brought a sheen of sweat to his broad face. “Don’t misunderstand, Miss Chance, I do have some sympathy for your position. Truth be told, I spoke to your father before you showed up and I have sympathy for him too. He and I even discussed his working for me. I have need of a good money man.” Big straightened, shoving his thumbs into the waistline of his suit pants. “Although, ultimately, it’s you they followed to the store, I’ll bear some responsibility for this…situation….” He turned toward the door. “Which is why I’m leaving Mannie with you. As protection and…” He lifted a hand. “Whatever. Have a nice night, ladies. Give Fortune my regards.”
We stared after him, our eyes bulging, until the door darkened again in the form of Mannie, then we shared an irritated glance. We couldn’t possibly do what needed to be done with Mannie hanging around. Could we?
Ida Belle jerked her head upward, her eyes rolling sideways.
I had no idea what she was trying to tell me.
Fortunately Gertie did. “Well. I guess we might as well get you two settled upstairs. Then I suggest we do each others’ hair and nails.” She grinned widely. “It’ll be like a real sleepover.”
To my intense shock, Ida Belle clapped her hands. “Bikini waxes! We can practice on Mannie! I got a new wax melting machine I’ve been dying to try out.”
Mannie’s face lost a couple shades. His hand slid under the lapel of his coat. “You come near my privates with hot wax and you will be dyin’!”
We all feigned surprise at his violent response.
He shrugged. “Go, have your fun. I’ll stay down here and watch the doors.”
I twisted my lips to hold back a grin.
“Suit yourself,” Gertie told him. She patted his arm as we slipped past. “Help yourself to the beer and anything else you see in the fridge. I’ll bring you down a pillow and a blanket later.”
He nodded, seemingly relieved we were going to abandon him.
Outside the kitchen, Ida Belle placed a finger over her lips and started toward the stairs. Gertie and I followed her to the second floor and into what appeared to be Gertie’s bedroom. Gertie closed and locked the door behind us and went to the closet. She pulled a large metal suitcase from the depths and keyed a code into the digital lock.
I gasped when it popped open. The thing was filled with guns and assorted weapons, including some things that made me distinctly uncomfortable.
“Is that a grenade?”
Gertie handed a gun to Ida Belle and took another one for herself. “What? Oh, yeah. It’s a dud. I don’t think it’ll even explode.” She eyed the contents for a moment before selecting a short whip with balls on the end and handing it to me.
“You don’t think?”
She closed the suitcase and shoved it to the back of her closet. “Let’s go into the bathroom, just in case Mannie comes to his senses and decides to sneak up
and check on us.”
I locked the door behind us and Gertie turned the water on in the shower. “Okay, so we have a problem. For obvious reasons, we can’t let Mannie come with us when we look for your father.”
“Right?” I nodded. Biting my lip, I asked. “Why not?”
Gertie looked at me like I was a member of Club Clueless. “Because Big probably told him to kill your father. It’s the easiest way to get the Russian mob off his back.”
I gasped, realizing in that moment that she was right. “Oh god,” I walked over and dropped my butt down on the closed toilet. “Oh god, oh god, oh my flippin’ god!”
Ida Belle patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry. We won’t let them kill your dad.”
I couldn’t stand it anymore. “No offense, Ida Belle, I really like you guys and I’m grateful for your help and all but…”
“But you don’t know what a couple of old women and a librarian can do to help you with the Bayou and Russian mobs?”
When she put my doubts into words I felt ashamed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” To my amazement Gertie smiled. “We like it when people underestimate us. It’s our greatest strength.”
Ida Belle nodded in agreement. “Gertie and I were spies during the Vietnam war. There isn’t much these guys can do that we haven’t already faced or heard about. We can handle ourselves.”
I blinked, not sure if I could believe them. “Spies?”
“We had code names too.” Gertie offered me her hand, “The White Spider at your service.”
“Why The White Spider?” I asked.
Ida Belle shook her head. “She saw it somewhere and liked the sound of it.”
“Plus my hair started turning white in my thirties.” Gertie shrugged.
I looked at Ida Belle. “What was your code name?”
“Liberty Belle.”
I grinned. “Perfect.”
She seemed embarrassed. “Anyway…”
“What about Fortune?” I asked.
The two women shared a look. I’d seen them do that before when I asked about Fortune. “Look, I know she’s got some kind of secret in her background…” I left it hanging, hoping they’d confide in me.
Gertie shook her head. “She’s just very private.”
I didn’t believe for a minute that was all it was. “You don’t have to tell me, but I need to know, can she handle this mess? Because I’m seriously considering calling Cal back.”
“You’ll have to trust us, Felicity. Fortune can handle anything these guys throw at her.”
“And then some,” Gertie added.
I held their gazes for a beat before nodding. “Okay. I do trust you. So much so that I’m leaving my father’s life in your hands.” I scrubbed my cheeks of tears and straightened my shoulders. “So how do we duck Mannie?”
Ida Belle’s phone rang. She pulled it from the pocket of her slacks and looked at it. “It’s Fortune. Poking the Speaker button she asked, “Hey, how’s the date going?”
“Horrible. Carter brought me to his house. He’s about to introduce me to his dog!”
“Oh, my,” Ida Belle said.
“Yeah, oh my. The dog is gonna take one look at me and go for my throat.”
“Are you armed?”
“Of course! But how do you think the rest of our date will go if I shoot his dog?”
“Oh. Yeah. There is that. What do you want us to do?”
“I need an extraction. I need Swamp Team 3…” she hesitated and then said, “—plus 1.”
I grinned.
CHAPTER SIX
The balls on the end of my whip clacked together as I walked. “Why are we skulking around in the dark, again?”
Ida Belle turned to me, her face unreadable in the low light. The outline of gray poodle curls around her small face made her look like a geriatric daisy. “We need to create a distraction to give Tiny a reason other than Fortune for being whipped up.”
“Oh.” I thought about this as we ducked from cypress tree to cypress tree, the sounds and smells of the nearby Bayou lending a wild flavor to our trip across the tiny town.
Clack, clack, clack.
Then it hit me. “Wait a minute, are you saying we’re going to be the distraction?”
Gertie turned to me, her teeth gleaming white in the dark. “No.”
Relief swamped me. “Oh. Good. I hate to admit this but I’m afraid of dogs. Especially ones with teeth.”
“You’re gonna be the bait. Ida Belle and I are going to create a disturbance to keep Tiny from eating you.”
Ida Belle moved quickly to a tall, wooden fence and ducked down next to it, peering through a knothole at about waist level.
I suddenly found it hard to breathe. In desperation, my brain turned to mush. “Huh?”
“He’s sitting about ten feet from the door, staring through the glass.” Ida Belle reported.
I couldn’t know for sure, but I was reasonably certain the he she was talking about wasn’t Carter. “That doesn’t sound too dangerous. Maybe we should just go before Carter sees us. I mean, how are we going to explain skulking around behind his house while he’s on a date?”
Gertie snorted. “I doubt Carter would even blink. We’ve put him through much worse over the years.”
“Especially since his date arrived,” Ida Belle agreed. “I can see them inside. Carter’s standing at the kitchen sink and Fortune’s standing behind him. She’s looking right at me.”
Ida Belle straightened. She pulled something from her pocket and lifted it over the fence. A small golden light flashed from its end, creating a pattern on the night.
“What are you doing?” I asked, shifting nervously.
Clack, clack, clack.
She dropped her arm. “Telling her we’re in position.” Ida Belle turned to Gertie. “You take the south side. I’ll take north.”
Gertie nodded and took off around the fence. Ida Belle lowered her hands, cupping them together. She looked at me. “Hop on board, sunshine.”
I blinked rapidly. “Um. What do you have in mind, here?”
“I’m going to heft you up and you’re going to grab the top cross beam on the inside of this fence and whistle.”
“I don’t know how to whistle.”
She looked at me with such disgust you would have thought I’d admitted to molesting chickens. “I’m sorry,” I bleated before I could stop myself.
Shaking her head, Ida Belle jerked her hands, indicating that I should step into them. “I don’t care if you sing him a lullaby in squeaky Russian. I just want him charging this part of the fence in a lather.”
“Then what?”
“Then you get off the fence before Carter sees you and Gertie and I will do our thing.”
I nodded. That didn’t sound too bad. I only needed to get the dog to the fence and then jump out of harm’s way. What could go wrong? “Okay.”
“Oh, and you need to wait until right before Carter comes through the door so he can see the dog barking at the fence. But whatever you do, don’t let him see you.”
“Wait, what?”
Ida Belle jerked upward, launching me toward the top of the fence with nary a warning.
Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack.
I screeched unattractively and then went silent as my belly hit the top of the fence post. Agony bloomed as all the air was knocked out of my body. Hanging there, gasping for breath, I tried to pull my legs into the fetal position as a distant barking niggled its way into my awareness. I twitched atop the post like a worm on a hook, trying to draw breath as the barking drew steadily closer.
In an effort to pull air into my lungs, I wrenched my head up and my gaze fell on the slavering hellhound heading my way at a terrifying clip. Breathing suddenly became less important than being torn apart by all those big, white teeth.
I wheezed out an alarm and grabbed the top of the fence in an effort to shove myself off the post. Pain sliced through my palms as they connected with the p
ointed tops of the wood fence. My head shot up as the barking turned to sloppy sounding snarls. The dog was ten feet away and closing fast.
A shrill whistle filled the air. A warning from Ida Belle. Jerking my gaze toward the house, I saw Carter on the other side of the sliding door, reaching for the handle. Fortune was waving her arms frantically behind him. He half turned and she stopped waving, grabbing for him and putting him into a lip lock that probably had his head spinning.
I used the seconds she’d bought me to grab hold of the post on either side and shove hard. I fell backward just as the dog hit the fence and it creaked ominously under his weight. I landed on my tailbone, pain jarring up my spine, and lay there for a minute as I catalogued the damage.
The dog hit the fence again and something tore loose, one section gaping outward as he barreled into it from the other side.
Shrill sounds emerged from other parts of the fence. Ida Belle whistled again but the dog didn’t seem to notice. He was snuffling around the bottom of the fence now, his wet nose mere inches from my sneakered foot.
From somewhere down the other side, a bird broke into song. Since it was well past any self-respecting songbird’s bedtime, I realized it was either Gertie doing her own version of dog distraction or Sinful’s bats had learned to warble.
Carter’s dog rammed itself against the fence again and another nail gave out. The fence gaped dangerously toward me. Another couple of minutes and I’d be joining him for an evening snack, with me as the snack.
I shoved painfully to my feet and started limping toward the swamp as waves of pain radiated from my sacroiliac.
Clack, clack, clack.
Behind me, bats continued to warble and the whistling became ever more shrill. I felt for Fortune, I really did, but I was going to have to do the unpardonable and leave a man behind. My butt couldn’t take any more “helping” at the moment.
Clack, clack, clack.
I decided the most prudent thing would be to wait down by the bayou for Ida Belle and Gertie. I approached the winding ribbon of water carefully, pushing my way through a constant drape of Spanish moss until I stood on its banks. Under the light of a full moon, the bayou was at once fraught with activity and blissfully serene. Frogs belched along its edges and soft breezes carried air, heavy with moisture, over the vegetation, creating a near constant whispering sound.
