Beatrice was happy to indulge us but said we needed to get over there quickly as the arson investigator had just left and told her he was hoping to release the trailer that afternoon. I figured they’d either decided to pin it on Brock or chalk it up to blatant stupidity. But with no one injured and no expectation of it happening again, given that the main suspect was dead and the parade was over, it seemed a reasonable decision.
Of course, Carter still wouldn’t be pleased if he found out what we were up to, so we needed to make this happen quickly and with as little fanfare as possible.
Beatrice was waiting outside when we arrived. Ida Belle had parked at the end of the block in front of one of the Sinful Ladies’ homes and we’d hiked it up the sidewalk, hoping no one was paying close attention. Beatrice ran down her front porch steps as soon as we arrived and motioned us to the side gate. She was practically huffing as she rushed us to a large metal building partially hidden by trees.
“That arson investigator called,” she said as we hurried behind her. “He’s releasing the float soon. Celia will have her people over here to get it right away, I’m sure. The decorations and the wood to build the platforms were donated but the trailer belongs to one of the local farmers. Celia rented it and he’s raising hell that it wasn’t back today for him to use to haul hay. He’s charging her a full day’s rent again and she’s fit to be tied, especially after what she spent on dressing that floozy up for the parade.”
“I’m sure it won’t take us long,” I said, which wasn’t a lie because I didn’t expect to find anything of merit. “We’ll just get a look and some pictures and be long gone before any of Celia’s crew shows up to collect the float.”
Beatrice punched in a code on a keypad near the huge garage door and it slid noisily up. “Needs oiling—but then everything around here creaks.” She laughed.
“Why not come in using the side entry door?” Gertie asked.
“One, because it sticks,” Beatrice said. “Two, because the lights don’t work. This place has had electrical problems since it was built. Of course, that would be because my cheap husband insisted on doing the wiring himself. Anyway, if that garage door weren’t open, you wouldn’t be able to see a thing given there’s no windows.”
“What about the neighbors?” Gertie asked.
“You’re okay,” Beatrice said. “The fence prevents anyone ground level from seeing inside when the door’s open and that big oak up front blocks anyone upstairs in the house across the street from getting a view.”
Ida Belle nodded. “Then get back to your house and play lookout. If anyone shows up, text me and we’ll clear out.”
“I’ll close the blinds on the back of the house,” Beatrice said. “In the event of an emergency, just leave the garage door open and head across to the other side of the yard and exit through that gate. Don’t risk going over the fence and into someone else’s yard. I’m surrounded by people with big dogs with bad attitudes.”
“Got it,” I said, hoping that no emergencies cropped up. Running across a backyard to exit through a fence gate didn’t sound like a big deal, but then, a whole lot of things that happened during our investigations hadn’t seemed like a big deal going in and had turned out to be disasters. Fortunately, not all of them were on YouTube. Especially fortunate as most of the disasters included things that weren’t exactly legal.
Beatrice hurried off and I started walking around the float, checking it out. The platform that held the throne was the most scorched, although the trailer itself was fine since the bottom was metal. It just had a black spot that hopefully wouldn’t affect the integrity since the fire hadn’t burned for too long.
“Looks like the fire didn’t get farther than the platform,” Ida Belle said. “There’s some charring on the outside of the bottom and up around the throne where it crept up.”
“Probably ran up those tissue flowers,” I said. “I thought you had rules about flammable stuff.”
“It’s not possible to be entirely nonflammable,” Gertie said. “Even people are flammable.”
“There’s a pleasant thought,” Ida Belle said.
“Just saying,” Gertie said. “But all the paper wasn’t the best call. Still, there’s only so many things to decorate with, and with the fire extinguishers and volunteers on hand, we figured it would be all right.”
“Technically, it was,” I said. “No one died.”
Gertie laughed. “The advantage of setting the bar really, really low.”
“I’m not so sure that ‘no one died’ is a low bar in Sinful,” I said.
I pulled out my phone and took some shots of the float from the rear. I could see where the fire had started underneath the platform. The ash from the paper flowers was long gone—likely during transport to this building as the cold front had started to move in right at the end of the parade. I could see the scorch lines up the outside of the platform that Ida Belle had identified and made sure I captured several shots with them in it. I had no idea if the pictures would be useful, but what I did know was that soon, it wouldn’t be possible to get any.
I took a couple steps back and got a shot of the entire float from the rear, so that I could put things into perspective later, if needed. Then I asked Gertie for a glove and a baggie, since she always had supplies in her giant and questionable handbag. Once gloved, I tugged on one of the flowers next to a bare spot on the back of the trailer until it came loose, then popped it in the bag.
“What are you going to do with that?” Gertie asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Just thought I’d snag one before they all go in the trash. Looks like the forensics team did it, so I figured we should too.”
“I wish we had our own lab, like James Bond,” Gertie said.
“Bond is a government spy,” I said. “Their budget is a little better than ours.”
Ida Belle started to say something, then stopped and pulled her phone out of her pocket.
“Crap!” she said. “Celia and RJ are here and demanding to see the float. Beatrice won’t physically restrain them, and you know Celia’s not going to just leave.”
“What the heck does she want with the float?” I asked as I ran for the door.
“Who knows?” Ida Belle said as she ran past me.
“Help! I’m caught on something!”
I whirled around and saw Gertie, trying to run, but held in place by her handbag, whose strap was lodged in a crack in the trailer frame. I ran back and tugged on the strap as Gertie slipped out from under it, but it was stuck in there good. Leaving the handbag wasn’t an option because Celia would know right away who it belonged to. Gertie and I yanked on the strap with everything I had but it didn’t budge even a millimeter.
“Please tell me you have something in there that will help besides dynamite,” I said to Gertie.
As I opened the purse, Ida Belle, who’d apparently circled back to see why we weren’t coming, reached around me and cut the purse strap on both sides of the rail with the knife she always carried. As I whirled around with the bag, I heard voices outside the fence.
Crap!
As predicted, Celia had ignored Beatrice and was about to come into the backyard. It was too late to make a dash for the other side of the yard and with the garage door wide open, we were sitting ducks. I ran for the garage door opener and hit it before sprinting for the rear of the garage. There had to be someplace to hide.
But the rear of the building was completely void of anything. Apparently, Beatrice really didn’t use it. There wasn’t even a trash can to hide behind and with no windows at all and no rear door, we were out of options. I looked up, hoping for an answer, and something about the roof bothered me. I scanned the length of the building, then looked along the floor on the back wall and my pulse shot up.
There was a gap between the metal wall and the concrete that was too big to not be intentional, but I couldn’t see daylight under it. I scanned the walls and found a spot where the metal didn’t quite align and pushed on it. A secret door popped open and we hurried inside, barely getting the door closed before the garage door started going up again.
The room was pitch black except for the tiny strip of light coming in under the metal wall that hid the room from the rest of the structure. I turned on the flashlight on my phone and shone it in the dark, just in case there was a secret exit on the outside of the building. Directly behind us was a huge gun safe. Large enough to fit people inside, but the door was standing wide open and it was empty.
I turned to the other side and saw that the room was about five feet deep and ran the whole width of the garage. On the opposite side from the safe, I saw familiar metal tanks with tubes and elbowed Ida Belle. She looked over and I felt her body tense. It was a moonshine still. Good Lord Almighty! No wonder Beatrice didn’t want law enforcement at her house. She was making moonshine in her backyard.
Not only was it illegal—it was dangerous as hell. One clogged line or a thin vapor leak and any form of spark would blow the still right through the walls, which was why Sinful residents hid their stills in the bayous. Ida Belle grabbed Gertie’s arm and motioned to the still, then pointed at her purse. Good call. There was probably no end to the additional trauma Gertie’s purse could add if things went up in smoke.
I heard footsteps and we all leaned against the wall to hear what was happening.
“Who’s in here?” Celia said.
“No one,” Beatrice said.
“Then why did that door close?” Celia asked.
“Electrical problems,” Beatrice said.
“You’re sure no one else has been inside?” Celia asked.
“I already told you that arson investigator said no one could be in here,” Beatrice said. “That includes you, incidentally.”
“I paid for the contents on that float,” Celia said. “And besides, you said he’s going to release it. What difference does it make if I’m here now or later?”
“Apparently, it makes a difference to you, since you wouldn’t accept ‘later’ as an answer,” Beatrice said.
“I’ve a very busy woman,” Celia said. “And RJ needs to find her bracelet.”
“You know, it’s probably melted to the bottom of the trailer,” Beatrice said. “But knock yourself out. I’m going back inside so that if the arson investigator shows up, I’m not the one in trouble.”
“I don’t get why we’re here,” RJ said a bit later. “I wasn’t even wearing a bracelet.”
“We’re here to figure out how that fire started,” Celia said.
“I already told you it was that psycho Brock,” RJ said. “I left Nashville to get away from him and he followed me here. He was standing right next to the float before that fire broke out.”
“But how could he do it without someone seeing?” Celia said. “And that arson investigator was downright insulting—accusing me of storing paper flowers under the platform. He made it sound like I was to blame for this. And with Marigold Forrester going to the hospital over it. I don’t need the kind of trouble that could bring.”
I could practically feel Ida Belle and Gertie’s disgust at Celia’s statement. Marigold might not have been physically injured, but her mental state was precarious enough to start with and no one knew how this would affect her long term. But Celia was making herself the victim, as usual.
“Marigold will be fine, I’m sure,” RJ said. “I was closest to the fire and I’m breathing fine. She’s always been a sensitive sort, but there’s nothing wrong with her.”
“Well, I don’t care what that man says,” Celia said. “I did not leave paper back here.”
“Maybe it was one of the others,” RJ said. “There were lots of people helping. Or maybe something blew under the platform when the wind picked up. Brock might have seen it happen and taken advantage of the situation. Maybe the cops can get it out of him as soon as they run him down.”
“You think he’s still hanging around?” Celia asked.
“Doubt it,” RJ said. “I’m sure he hightailed it back to Nashville before the cops could go looking for him. Anyway, if you’re done, I really want to get out of here. I was hoping to drop by the Swamp Bar and see if I could butter up Whiskey, maybe swing that vote counting in my favor.”
“I don’t like the idea of you hanging out with that disreputable man,” Celia said.
“It’s money for me and a chance for you to lord over Ida Belle and Gertie,” RJ said.
“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for you to talk with him—maybe offer to sing at the bar for free?”
Even though no one could see, I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. I had no doubt about RJ’s intent to offer up freebies, but I didn’t think for a minute it was going to be about her singing.
“I’m just trying to see—” Celia said. “What the hell is wrong with the lights in this place? Beatrice should keep this maintained properly.”
I could hear Celia flip the light switch over and over and then the light inside the secret room came on, blinked on and off, and I heard a familiar sizzle. Panicked, I whirled around and shoved Ida Belle and Gertie into the safe, then crammed in with them and pulled the door.
Just as the still exploded.
I heard screaming outside the safe. One was Celia—I’d recognize her voice anywhere. I assumed the other was RJ. Then footsteps running away from the garage. I leaned against the safe door to peer out, but it didn’t budge.
Holy crap! We were locked inside.