Even though I was present and completely sober for the entire thing, I’m still not sure how I managed to be stuffed into a dress, my pistol strapped between my thighs, more gel under my boobs than in the entire state of California, and slightly less in my hair—obviously not in the same format. Ronald and Ally had fussed over my hair and makeup for longer than it took some people to build a house, but when I’d said as much, Ronald had stated that we were starting at the same place—my foundation was good but everything on top of it needed to be remodeled.
Every time I’d wanted to jump out of the chair and declare myself done no matter where they were in the process, I’d remembered that smug look and flipped finger of RJ’s, then laid eyes on Ally’s sweet face, and I’d kept my butt planted in the chair. Revenge was really a strong emotion. One even I couldn’t conquer, apparently. And since karma was flaky, you couldn’t really count on it. Or at least, you couldn’t count on it happening when you preferred and in front of you.
So now I stood at the far end of downtown, ready to climb up on a flatbed trailer that had been decorated to look like an ice castle, which I had to admit, looked pretty darn good. They’d used glass blocks to create glaciers and had inserted white and turquoise LED lights inside them. Turquoise and silver poinsettias and ribbon adorned the display, and they’d even constructed a throne from the glass blocks, complete with a shiny turquoise cushion.
Gertie had confided that Ida Belle had already spent her share of the winnings and a hunk of her quarterly investing profit on me and the float. Apparently, RJ’s mother had sprained her ankle and was shopping in town more, so she’d used that excuse to ratchet up the flirting with Walter. And in another ridiculous and hopeless move, had sicced RJ on Carter.
Carter had been far more disturbed and less amused than Walter, who’d been putting up with it for years. Myrtle, one of the sheriff’s department dispatchers and our inside source, had reported that RJ showed up daily the entire week with baked goods for Carter—baked goods she’d bought from Ally, then transferred onto her mother’s dishes to try to pass them off as her own. Like a detective wouldn’t know the goodies he ate practically every day.
Myrtle had also commented that RJ’s cleavage was showing more dough than the baked goods, to the point that Deputy Breaux had taken to running out the back door every time she walked in, claiming her look wasn’t fit for a strip club, much less the sheriff’s department. I found his sense of propriety in this day and age both unusual and charming but told him he still had to make a jaunt down to the Swamp Bar and vote for me, regardless of how much of me was coming out of my parade dress.
RJ had also made a few trips to the Swamp Bar in tight jeans and even tighter shirts. Rumor had it she wasn’t wearing a bra, then the rumor was confirmed when she ‘accidentally’ spilled a glass of beer on her top every night. Ida Belle was calling dirty pool as the queens weren’t supposed to act like they were politicians on the campaign tour and the Swamp Bar was technically off-limits, but no one was surprised by RJ’s shenanigans.
Ida Belle had tried to convince Carter to run RJ and arrest her for the warrants Ida Belle was certain she had outstanding. But Carter said that unless RJ broke the law, he had no reason to run her and he wasn’t about to put up with her all day long in jail over some unpaid tickets or whatever other nonsense she hadn’t gotten around to handling. I could see his point, but had to admit I was disappointed. If RJ had been in jail, then I might have gotten out of this whole thing.
“You look incredible,” Ally said as she walked up. “I know I was there for the hair and makeup and saw the dress, but when it’s all put together, it’s…wow! Just wow!”
“It’s also itchy,” I said. “The sequins pinch under my arms, and I’m not even going to talk about what my pistol is doing. I’m pretty sure I’ve strained muscles in my chest, and I’m certain that hair gel is seeping through my scalp and lowering my IQ. Why do women do this?”
“Mostly to get one over on other women,” Ally said.
“It’s a heck of a lot easier to shoot them,” I said. “And way more comfortable.”
Ally laughed. “But you won’t go to jail this way.”
“You say that like jail’s the worse thing that could happen here,” I said. “And besides, this is a Sinful celebration and Gertie’s here. Jail is not off the table.”
“And on that note, I’ve got to go get in my spot so I’ll have a front-row view for that possibility,” Ally said.
“Is someone saving you a space?” I asked.
She blushed and looked down. “Mannie said he’d get us a good one.”
“Things must be heating up if he’s coming to a Sinful parade.”
“Oh, that’s not because of me. When I told him you were going to be wearing a dress with a crown and riding on a float, he said nothing short of death would keep him away. Besides, I’m pretty sure Big made it part of his job duties.”
I sighed. “This is going to be on YouTube, isn’t it?”
“Probably about two seconds after the end of the parade and livestreaming everywhere else.”
“And to think, for years, the entire world was unaware of my existence.”
Ally smiled. “Well, I, for one, am happy you came out of the shadows. You’ve changed Sinful for the better and given me a whole new lease on life. Before, I was just plodding along, day to day. I honestly don’t think I would have ever had the courage to pursue my bakery without you pushing me.”
“You’re stronger than you think,” I said. “But I’m glad I came out of the shadows too. I just hope I don’t come out of my dress.”
She grinned as she hurried off.
I suddenly found myself in the very rare position of being alone. I was pretty sure that except for showering, that hadn’t been the case for at least a week. I glanced at the float in front of me—RJ’s ride. It looked like a Disney princess had visited. Lots of pink sashes and glitter. My ice castle looked so much cooler. Given the dirty look RJ had given it when she’d huffed past, I assumed she thought so too.
At least the weather had cooperated. It was a cool but manageable fifty-five degrees and there was only a light breeze. That was a huge plus, given that I was downwind. I didn’t have to worry about all the sashes and glitter blowing off RJ’s float and onto mine. Pink might go with turquoise on unicorns and in kids’ rooms, but it would definitely clash with my scene. And the last thing I needed was Ronald rushing out to vacuum as we went.
I had to give RJ credit, though—the white dress she had on did everything to show off her curvy figure. Her hair was piled on top of her head in one of those fancy swirly-looking buns, leaving more skin showing below the neck, which was the intent. Her makeup was thick and up close, I could still see the dark circles under her eyes and wrinkles around her mouth. But from a distance, no one would be able to tell she’d lived hard and looked years older than she was.
Despite it almost being time to load up, RJ was nowhere in sight. I glanced around and caught a flicker of white by the fire truck posted at the end of the street. It was RJ, but I didn’t recognize the man she was talking to. He definitely didn’t look happy and based on her stiff body and hand in the air, I gathered the conversation wasn’t a polite one. I squinted a bit, trying to make out what he was saying as her back was to me, but could only get a piece of the conversation.
One way or another…money…or else…
She whirled around, her jaw set, and stomped back my direction. As Celia approached her, she plastered on a fake smile, but her rigid body gave away her anger. The man lit a cigarette and took a puff as she walked away, studying her for a couple seconds, then turned around and disappeared behind the fire truck.
It didn’t take a wordsmith to fill in the blanks.
It looked as though RJ’s homecoming wasn’t about paying a long-overdue visit as much as it was hiding from her obligations, but then, Ida Belle and Gertie had suspected her motives weren’t family related. That guy arguing with her probably wasn’t family and definitely wasn’t a legitimate debt collector. They harassed you by phone and mail. They didn’t show up at parades in small towns, issuing threats. The long and short of it was that whatever RJ thought she was hiding from had followed her to Sinful. I just hoped she left before things got ugly. Sinful had enough issues. We didn’t need to import more.
“You ready?” Ida Belle’s voice sounded behind me and I turned around, plastering on my fake smile.
She gave me a critical eye. “That smile is actually not bad. I didn’t think Ronald could do it, but he’s managed to pull off miracles in all areas.”
“He told me to think about baked goods,” I said.
She snorted. “I would have thought he’d go for Carter wearing nothing but a towel.”
I shook my head. “My relationship with Carter can be problematic, so a smile isn’t the default result as it depends on where my thoughts go. My relationship with baked goods is solid.”
“I feel the same way about my SUV and guns,” Ida Belle said.
RJ chose that moment to hurry by, with a nasty side glance our way, before stopping to talk to two women next to her float, who I took to be mother and daughter given the similarities and age difference.
Mother midfifties based on body movement but face looked older. Five foot four. A hundred twenty five pounds, with her clothes and enormous handbag. Zero threat unless she packed her purse like Gertie.
Daughter midtwenties. Also five foot four. A hundred ten pounds. Low muscle tone for her age. Completely vacant expression until she saw RJ, then it shifted to a frown. Zero threat that I could discern, although vacant expressions usually made me raise an eyebrow.
The mother smiled as RJ hugged her, then RJ indicated to her daughter to climb up on the float. The daughter had kept the blank expression during the entire exchange but when she looked up at the float, a slow smile appeared. Still, something about her seemed off.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
Ida Belle looked over and frowned. “Christina and Marigold Forrester. Marigold ran around with RJ in high school.”
“She was a mean girl?” I was a bit surprised as she didn’t exactly look the type. She was the average-looking girl who most people would pass on the street without noticing, while RJ was the type who insisted everyone notice.
“Not a mean girl,” Ida Belle said. “More like she was the girl with plenty of spending money who was desperate to be popular, so RJ and Brock took advantage of that. Unfortunately, she paid a huge price for her popularity ride. Got into a car wreck driving them home from a party and sustained a brain injury. She’s been nonverbal ever since.”
“No seat belt?”
“None of them were wearing one,” Ida Belle said. “But Brock and RJ were drunk—you know how that usually goes.”
“They walked away unscathed,” I said. “That sucks, especially to happen to someone so young.”
Ida Belle nodded. “Her father left about a year after. He couldn’t deal, so it’s just been Christina and Marigold making things work for a while now.”
“It’s nice of RJ to put her up on the float.”
Ida Belle snorted. “To the best of my knowledge, RJ didn’t visit that girl once after the accident. More likely, she’s putting her up there hoping for the sympathy vote, but then lots of people say I’m cynical.”
“Also highly accurate.” I sighed. “So she’s using her again. Well, hopefully, Marigold doesn’t realize and can get a bit of enjoyment out of the deal.”
“She’s overdue, that’s for sure.”
I saw RJ head to the rear of her float for a bit, then return with a box spray-painted pink that she shoved at one of Celia’s crew. One of the volunteers helped her onto her float and stuck the box next to her throne. I assumed they were her crowd goodies, and it was almost showtime. Mine were already cleverly entrenched in a set of glass blocks next to my throne, so all I had to do was climb up and put on my happy face.
Ida Belle pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked a text. “That’s Marie. We’re ready to start, so get up on that float with your high boobs and your visions of baked goods dancing in your head. This thing is about to kick off.”
“I’m not sure I’d use the words kick off in relation to a public event in Sinful.”
“Hmm. Probably true. Remember to wave. And I don’t want to see a single strand of beads remaining in that container. Those muffin coupons on the end of them are worth their weight in gold.”
I grinned. “Ally really upped our voting game. The Swamp Bar crowd loves beer, but they also love food.”
Normally, I would have vaulted up onto the float, but given the dress, I had to go the route of the makeshift stairs that had been built for my climb. I headed up, got positioned on my throne with the container of beads nearby, then gave my chest one last push-up, crossed my legs so that people weren’t getting more of a view than I intended, then gave Ida Belle a nod.
She gave me a thumbs-up and headed off to meet Gertie, who was already working the crowd like a campaign manager. I shook my head. If someone would have told me back in the CIA that I’d be stuffed in a dress on a throne for any other reason than completing a mission, I would have laughed them out of DC. Yet here I sat—flashing my goods not to rid the world of its most dangerous criminals but to gain some beer and a clean house.
If my father were really dead, he’d be rolling over in his grave.
My mother would be smiling.
Chocolate cookies with peanut butter chips. Maybe even Carter eating them wearing a towel.
I broke out in a smile as the float started moving.
Sinful had really turned out for the parade. But then the combination of the aforementioned good weather, the Swamp Bar betting rivalry, and the rumor of discount muffin coupons was enough to entice people to turn on their DVRs and catch their favorite shows later. Especially given that Sinful events were often way better than anything that showed up on TV. I just hoped we had more of a Hallmark movie moment than a Forensic Files one.
The parade started at the south end of downtown and went the length of Main Street, officially ending when the neighborhood started. At that point, the floats would circle around to the park, where there was plenty of space to unload the queens and remove anything from the trailers that could become litter in the winds of the storm due later that night. The sheriff’s department sponsored a hot chocolate stand for everyone helping with teardown, and the Sinful Ladies were on hand to doctor up their wares with Sinful Ladies Cough Syrup, just in case anyone had a throat tickle that needed attention.
Downtown was still decorated for Christmas, and I had to admit it was pretty. Louisiana didn’t have snow, but every business had painted its windows frosted white. Light poles were wrapped with ribbons and lights with giant bows on top. All down the sidewalk were huge red, white, and silver planters stuffed full of poinsettias, and in the open lot where one of the docks stood was a huge Christmas tree. It was covered with ornaments and so much light I could see the glow from it at my house.
As the float inched forward, I waved and threw beads and laughed at the scramble for them and was suddenly surprised that I was actually enjoying myself. The excitement and joy from the crowd were infectious. The muffin coupons were a big hit, but honestly, I knew enough about Louisiana to know that residents would fight over most anything as long as it was flung during a parade. Fortunately, it was just chilly enough that no one flashed me their boobs for my wares.
Near the end of the parade route, the floats stopped so we could do a final wave for the parade-goers and ditch any remaining goodies to the ever-hopeful crowd. As I was flinging a clump of beads, I caught sight of the guy I’d seen talking to RJ before the parade. He was standing at the edge of the street and looked straight up at her when her float stopped next to him. RJ’s head whipped to the opposite side of the street, and I felt my spidey sense tingle again.
I saw Gertie standing nearby and motioned for her to come over, hoping I could get her to either identify or take a quick pic of the guy. I had a feeling something was poised to go down between those two and wanted to have all the documentation I could get up front. Gertie pushed through the front row and hurried up. I hopped off my throne and leaned over to speak, but the crowd rushed around her, still vying for beads.
I couldn’t exactly yell out what I needed and no way this group was going to back off when I was still clutching the goods, so I flung the beads behind them, then reached down and pulled Gertie onto the float. I explained what I needed, and she glanced over at the man, who was still staring up at RJ, and nodded. The float offered the best chance of getting a clean shot, so I told her to stay put and take some pics of me and the crowd so that he wouldn’t suspect anything.
The float started moving again, so I hopped back on my throne and Gertie took up post at the front on a block of fake ice and started taking pics. The man was standing at the back of the float now, but instead of looking up at RJ, he was staring across the street. A flicker of fear rushed through his otherwise angry expression. I looked on the other side of the street and saw someone standing on the sidewalk, just out of reach of the light from the lamppost. He was wearing a trench coat and had a ball cap pulled down over his forehead, but I could tell he was looking across the street. He lifted a single gloved finger and pointed, then slipped around the corner of the building and was gone.
I turned my attention back to the float and saw Gertie aim toward the man who’d been arguing with RJ. But as soon as she directed her phone toward him, he whirled around and disappeared in the crowd. Darn it! I hoped she’d gotten a good shot before he got away. Something about him and his interactions with RJ bothered me, and now there was the stranger on the sidewalk. I’d had this feeling before and it always ended with a corpse. I didn’t like RJ one bit, but I didn’t want her to get murdered. And if someone was going to pop her, I’d prefer they do it back in Nashville. Carter didn’t need more problems.
As my float moved toward the end of the route and stopped again, I spotted Ally in the crowd, Mannie beside her grinning and pointing a phone in my direction. I gave him one of those queen waves and he and Ally started laughing, then he gave me a thumbs-up. If I could run him down after the parade, I was going to tell him to drop by the Swamp Bar and vote. It was the least he could do since I’d provided entertainment for him and his bosses.
All of a sudden, a gust of wind rushed past me and blew my sash up in my face. A second later, I felt a tingle on my arms and looked down to see pink glitter. Crap. I stood up and looked at the floats, hoping we could wrap this up before another gust started taking the ribbons and other decor off the floats.
Then my bloodhound nose caught a whiff of smoke.