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Ida Belle, Gertie, and I discreetly shuffled our way to the backside of the house. I glanced over my shoulder, trying to locate Deputy Charming.
“Are we sure about this?” Gertie asked.
“About his walk? Absolutely.” I considered why he approached with the Celia story. “Maybe he’s a scout, but if he is, he’s doing a poor job. Using Pansy and her mom for a boy that doesn’t exist?”
Ida Belle studied me. “That’s it. He’s winging it because whatever story he had wouldn’t fit and get him entry into the party.”
Before I could ask for further information, Gertie said, “Ida Belle and I have dealt with scouts over the years. If he’s a scout, he’s calling for someone who is already nearby.”
“I’ve never known Ahmad to use them, but his American cousin Daniel always has.”
“American cousin?” Ida Belle lifted a brow. “Is he really his cousin?”
“No. They used to call one another brothers, but then they had some sort of falling out. I can’t imagine that he’d be assigned to my removal. Ahmad doesn’t trust him.”
“Someone else then,” Ida Belle said. “Think. Who uses scouts? Another relative maybe?”
“I’m leaning that way, too.” I paused, scanned the trees and yard, but then returned my focus to Gertie and Ida Belle. “Any chance you have an assortment of weaponry in the trunk?”
“Are you kidding? She has everything from bathroom supplies to the kitchen sink.”
“Bathroom supplies?” I shook my head. “Scratch it. I don’t want to know.”
“Follow me,” Gertie said, leading the way.
“Why bathroom supplies? Afraid of running out of toilet paper?”
“I don’t carry paper products. I carry things for girls who get their feet stuck in the toilet.”
“Makes sense.” I was impressed, given the number of issues that I’d had with shoes, preparation couldn’t be a bad thing. I stopped behind Gertie and Ida Belle once we reached the Cadillac.
“Let’s see what we can find,” Gertie said, tossing one thing and then the next to the far right.
“We need a plan first, Hebert,” Ida Belle said, rummaging through the trunk junk, too.
“Wait.” I stared up at the eaves and thought I saw movement in one of the upper bedrooms. “Is that Pansy’s room?” I pointed up and their eyes followed my finger. “Malibu Man is watching us.”
Gertie nodded, dug deeper into her trunk, and whispered, “Don’t worry. We’ve got this.”
“He’s definitely a scout,” Ida Belle said. “We’ll need to act fast. The real shooter is probably on his way.”
“Maybe he isn’t sure about my identity,” I said.
Ida Belle smiled down at the wares we had at our disposal. “There’s only one way to find out.”
****
As part of the plan, Gertie and Ida Belle detained Celia. Once I spotted them practically drooling over her dessert table, I headed inside.
I was halfway up the front stairs when I realized one of my more detrimental mistakes. I hadn’t looked for Carter. Pausing for only a second, I considered where he might be at that moment.
The GWs had several single daughters and they weren’t above trying to fix them up with Carter. With any luck, one of the moms had him cornered.
The steps creaked and I let out a whimper when I tried to hold my position. Using the stillness to my advantage, I fluffed up my hair, stared down at my attire and sighed.
Only Gertie would tote around a black skirt and pumps to match in her necessities box. They were my size because she was certain we’d have a need for extra clothing at some point. Given my history, I couldn’t argue.
Fortunately, I’d already been wearing a printed white T-shirt so once I turned it around, pulled on the salt-and-pepper colored wig that Ida Belle had stashed in the glovebox, and grabbed a plunger, I was ready. The creaking noise was a stroke of luck. I spotted a feather duster on the banister and grabbed it on my way up.
“Someone there?” Landry called out.
I hurried to the top of the stairs, flipped the long faux-hair over my shoulders, and struck a pose while chomping gum.
“Someone said you needed room service?”
Landry narrowed his eyes, or at least, I thought that was what he was doing. I saw multiple pairs of eyes thanks to Gertie’s glasses.
“Room service? Are you kidding?” He bit his bottom lip. “I must’ve hit potluck.”
So the blond-hair goes all the way to the roots.
“Seems like it,” I purred, chomping my gum. “Celia told me she has an overnight guest.”
“She didn’t mention I’d have a maid at my disposal.”
“You were unexpected company and she’s entertaining outside. What’d you expect, turndown service with a mint on your pillow? I clean rooms, sugar, but you aren’t staying at a diamond resort. Just checking for roughage and trash.”
“Sounds like the same thing.”
I gave him a quick once-over. “I can see where you might think so. Out of my way. I need to work.” I eyed his duffle. “Been in town long?”
“Uh no. And I really didn’t expect an invitation to stay if you want to know the truth.”
“Well, I sure don’t like those who lie.” I lowered my glasses, popped my gun, and added, “But you don’t strike me as the type who would lie to an old woman about family matters and such. Celia’s extending the welcome mat to the father of her grandchild. That’s how we do things here in the bayou.”
“I’m much obliged.”
“Also look out for our own,” I said, not that I’d ever want to count Celia as one of our own, but if Gertie and Ida Belle looked at her as such then I could consider this an exception.
“You look familiar,” he said, inching closer. “Have we met?”
“You probably met my niece. She’s a dead ringer for me.” I struck a pose again and almost threw my hip out. Grabbing hold of the bed post for balance, I lost the feather duster. “Oops.”
Expecting Landry to offer to fetch it for me, I waited. I was tempted to leave it, but since Ida Belle and Gertie had opted to send me on the inside without a traditional weapon, I didn’t want to lose one of my nontraditional options.
“Excuse me,” I said, squatting next to the bed and patting the floor until I found the duster. “Got it!”
Landry was next to me then. “Did you need some help?”
“No. Little late for that offer. Got what I need right here.” I shook the duster.
Landry said, “I’ve always had a fantasy about an older woman in a French maid outfit.”
I looked down at my knee-length skirt, collarless T-shirt, and closed-toe pumps. “Well, if I find a French maid, I’ll send her your way. You never know who you might meet in the Louisiana bayou. We definitely like the French.”
“Me too,” he said, closing the distance. “The French do everything right, from kissing to tripes, they know what they like.”
“Tripes?” I gagged.
“Consumption doesn’t have to be on the same day,” he said, pooching his lips.
Without even a second to spare, I jiggled the duster in Landry’s face. “Wait! I almost forgot!” I kept jiggling my hand as I rose to my feet. “You need a spit-shine so you can join the other guests!”
I backed away as quickly as I could, almost in a panic. Unfortunately, a few steps were all I could take. I ran smack dabbed into a boulderlike presence behind me.