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For a reason no one in their right mind could understand, Ida Belle and Gertie arrived at my house on Thursday morning around six-thirty. They weren’t there for coffee and small-talk, which might have been a typical start to a long weekend, especially one with festive treats and activities in store.
“We need to show you something.” Gertie’s smile definitely hinted at a mystery to solve. Nothing else generated this much excitement.
“Hurry. There’s no time to waste,” said Ida Belle, pulling a light blue roller from her hair. She quickly tucked it in her terrycloth robe and fiddled with another one.
“Please tell me you have street clothes under that robe.”
“Of course I do. I was cold and couldn’t find my jacket.” She quickly unraveled another hair roller. “Let’s go.”
“At least let me shower and get dressed,” I said.
“Throw something on,” Gertie said excitedly. “This can’t wait. We could miss the best part if you take too long!”
“The best part in my book is long periods of REM sleep, or target practicing. Since I’m out of luck on the first one, please tell me I need to bring a sniper rifle, my nine, a few glocks, and enough ammunition to last for eleven months and twenty-nine days.”
Gertie mouthed, “Eleven months. Twenty-nine days?”
“She’s trying to be cute,” Ida Belle explained. “That’s exactly how long she claims to have been losing sleep.”
I clicked my tongue and pointed at them. “Spot on.”
“Is Carter here?” Ida Belle asked, peering around me as if she thought he might be standing at the top of the stairs.
“No. He and Sheriff Lee are meeting with Deputy Breaux this morning.” I rushed upstairs to throw on some jeans, calling out, “I assume we’re packing.”
“We’re going to Wasteland!” Gertie yelled, as if that explained everything.
We didn’t leave Sinful without appropriate weaponry. When we did, it always backfired. Sometimes worse than others.
I jumped into a pair of jeans then tossed on my sweatshirt. Minutes later, we were headed to our first stop.
From my house, it only took a couple of minutes to reach Francine’s Café. I could almost taste a cheese-covered omelet when Ida Belle glanced over her shoulder and peered in the backseat as if to gauge how much room Gertie had in her Cadillac. Instead of announcing something like who we were picking up, she calmly said, “Don’t get too excited. We’re not eating here. Ally put together a to-go order for us.”
My stomach rumbled in protest. No wonder Ida Belle seemed overly cautious. I wasn’t much of a take-out girl and loved sitting down to a hearty breakfast.
“At this hour, to-go orders should be banned. If you don’t have time to sit down for breakfast, you should go back to bed,” I grumbled, not because I was afraid the breakfast would be substandard, but because I wouldn’t have time to eat a few pancakes, biscuits and gravy, and perhaps order seconds.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Gertie asked as Ida Belle darted inside Francine’s.
“I’m guessing this has something to do with Gomer and his haunted house.”
Gertie scoffed. “Go ahead. Ruin the surprise.”
“Imagine my surprise when I found you and Ida Belle on my doorstep this morning.” I smirked just to irritate her. I indulged in those silly little opportunities whenever I could, but only before ten in the morning and never on Sunday. “Gomer must have new decorations and can’t wait to get our feedback.”
“You’re close, but we’re not playing horseshoes, dear.”
Kicking myself for almost ruining the surprise, I said, “Couldn’t we have waited until this weekend?”
“No. Besides, it’s only a day away. We should have the grand tour before Gomer opens to the public.” Gertie quickly added, “Since we’re helping with it, I told Gomer we would come on out and check on things before they start charging admission. I’m excited. Aren’t you?”
“Is this a trick question?” I asked, yawning. “Wait. I thought Gomer had decided this haunted house would be free to the public.”
“That was my understanding, but you know Gomer. He’s always looking for ways to profit.” Gertie held up a bag of coins. “In case we need to pay for information.”
“Only Gomer would make volunteers pay for information.” I paused. “I’m surprised he isn’t advertising the admissions fee with a disclaimer that he’s only interested in quarters, dimes, and nickels.”
“Who said he’s not?” Gertie reached across her Cadillac seat and opened the door for Ida Belle.
“Careful. The lid isn’t on the back coffee.” Ida Belle handed off the tray of drinks then a large white bag. The scent of hickory smoked bacon, eggs, and biscuits filled the car as soon as she closed her door.
“Best biscuits in town,” Ida Belle announced, removing their items before handing the bag to me.
“I’m a heart attack waiting to happen,” I said, practically sighing at the sight of a flaky homemade biscuit. Each bite was like seven seconds in heaven and I savored each and every one.
“I ordered you three biscuits,” Gertie said. “We can’t have you going hungry.”
“Of all the fears I’ve had since arriving here, hunger is not one of them,” I said, paying closer attention to Gertie’s driving. “Did we miss our turn?”
“Nope,” Gertie said, adjusting her rearview mirror.
I loved autumn and really loved it in the bayou. Since there hadn’t be a first freeze, the leaves were rich in colors, the grass hadn’t slipped into that brownish-gray look, and the bayou waters even looked calm. I shuddered at the thought. Whenever I thought of Wasteland in the sense of tranquility, things were turned upside down.
“I thought we were going to meet Gomer,” I said.
“We’ll get to the haunted house, but there’s something else I want to show you first.” Gertie said.
Ida Belle checked the time on her phone. “We need to kill another fifteen minutes.”
“We could ride out to the old Daigle place and visit Lucille,” Gertie suggested.
“It’s still Hollowman’s Farm, as far as I’m concerned,” said Ida Belle. “Jax and Elle didn’t live there long enough to call it theirs.”
“Be thankful for the little things,” I said. “They were here long enough to stir trouble.”
“If Gomer is responsible for a cow, I’m sure she’s in the freezer by now.”
“No. She’s still out there,” Gertie said around a mouthful of food.
“Rude,” Ida Belle said, dabbing her lips.
Gertie turned up her coffee and whispered, “You’re right. I forget my manners sometimes.”
“I forget them all the time,” I muttered.
Ida Belle sighed. “Consider the influences you’ve had. From being an arms dealer’s trophy girlfriend to rolling around in the sack with a former Marine, manners aren’t always at the forefront of your mind.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” I said.
“Good girl,” Gertie said, a gleam in her eye. “She’s baiting you.”
“I see that.” It was too early for sharp comebacks.
We drove another three miles in silence before Gertie turned onto a gravel road leading the way to Jax and Elle Daigle’s former home. I couldn’t help but feel a little nostalgic. We didn’t have great memories out here, but a few weeks ago, we enjoyed one beautiful fall morning in Jax Daigle’s backyard.
As soon as we arrived at the farm, Lucille tossed her head over the fence as if she couldn’t believe her great luck in having unexpected company.
She wasn’t the only one.
As we talked to Lucille, a couple of goats slowly made their way out of the tall grass and came to check out the commotion.
“I’m not a goat person,” Gertie said, pulling Ida Belle in front of her.
“You’re not a cow person either, but you still like Lucille,” Ida Belle said.
“That’s because I like everything Lucille can provide. I don’t eat goat burgers or goat steak,” Gertie said. “If that’s even a thing.”
“Are goats unfriendly?” I didn’t have anything to go on. My cow knowledge was limited to what it promised on a bun. That was about as far as my knowledge went. I eyed the creatures. “Should we run?”
On a positive note, they came up to my knee. On a negative one, they had four legs. If they were quick and aggressive, I was at a disadvantage.
“For heaven’s sake, no,” Ida Belle said, holding out her hand to the two small creatures.
They inched closer, sticking their necks out simultaneously as if to show how little they trusted us, but still wanted the same treats we’d given Lucille.
“I have some crackers in the car,” Gertie said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Did someone already buy this place?” I asked, looking around. “I don’t recall seeing goats when we were here before.”
“Gomer probably bought them. He’s too lazy to mow out here so he turned these two out to take care of the brush.”
“Remind me to ask him how that’s working out for him,” I said, lifting my knees as I stepped over a few patches of long grass. “It wouldn’t hurt to invest in a mower or add a lawn service to his speed dial.”
I watched Ida Belle as she doted on the goats and couldn’t help but soak in the peace and quiet. About that time, I heard quickened footsteps and crunching gravel behind us. I whipped around and reached for the nine that wasn’t there. I’d left my guns and ammunition under the seat in Gertie’s car.
“Move!” Gertie waved her arms wildly. “Now!”
“What the—”
“When someone says to move, especially when that someone is me, don’t ask questions!” She ran in the opposite direction of the car and pressed my nine into my hand as she passed.
At lease one of us had been thinking ahead.
There were only two ways to look at this. Gertie was running from something or someone.
Since we were at a mob-owned home, a guessing game wasn’t necessary. And to think I was worried about missing an elaborate breakfast.