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Before we headed to the back, we saw the approaching threat.
Six-foot-one, two hundred twenty-five pounds. Late 40s. Early riser. Sports a jagged scar across his right cheek like a badge of dishonor. Bad habit of running his forefinger across his shirt collar. Tie is too tight or shirt is too little. Confident. Scratch that. Cocky womanizer. Definitely a player who could possibly be played.
Despite all of the obvious flaws found in a piece of broccoli, there was a bigger problem with the food costume. Unlike Gertie’s doughboy outfit, my ‘getup’ had a round opening between the stalk and floret. Anyone who knew me or knew what I looked like would be able to see my face. Maybe this was my sign and I should forego my spot on a vegetarian’s ‘best dressed’ list. After all, the criminal had already seen me. Given his interest in Ida Belle and Gertie, too, he would be able to find us in a crowd.
“How do we want to handle this?” I asked, realizing that a former CIA sniper had become a little slack on discussing logistics. Ida Belle and Gertie knew the bayou like the back of their hands so I depended upon them to make plans. “That’s Jax’s son.”
“I never would’ve guessed,” Ida Belle said, rolling her eyes.
“Good genes, or bad ones, given their line of work.” Gertie waited a beat. “Any idea why he’s here at the steakhouse? That’s pretty bold to show his face. It’s widely known that he was the only suspect in his dad’s death.”
“I misunderstood,” I said. “I thought we were expecting him.”
“Yes, but not hanging out in open spaces. I thought we’d bump into him in the dark.”
“Just because Jax liked dark corners, doesn’t mean his son does,” Ida Belle said, her statement loaded.
“I’ll let that go,” Gertie said, smirking. She was probably giving Ida Belle mental props for the jab.
“He wouldn’t trust Elle with his men,” Ida Belle said. “She’s resourceful and could shake off a tail.”
I cringed. Elle’s entire circle of influence were mobsters. Her life’s path was steeped in blood and she may have even helped her dad determine her grandfather’s fate.
Ida Belle and Jax’s son locked eyes. He tilted his head at Ida Belle and she returned the gesture.
I groaned. Ida Belle’s reputation must’ve been world renowned.
“So this isn’t a social call,” Gertie whispered.
“Probably not,” Ida Belle said.
“Let’s get changed. Eyes forward. Take nonchalant backsteps,” Ida Belle instructed us and we followed in unison, walking together, one step at a time until we bumped against a body made of steel.
Ida Belle jumped. Gertie said something like, “Oopsie!”
I bent over to grab the nine that wasn’t tucked anywhere, especially not in my ankle boots. “Ally.”
“Leaving anything in that blasted kitchen was bound to be a bad idea,” Ida Belle whispered.
Gertie nodded. “Remember, Hollowman left Celia in the cooler once.”
“Are we really talking about Celia now?” I discreetly pointed to the guy behind us.
Everything unraveled quickly then. I studied Brigham Cable Daigle, who seemed to be deliberately detained by one of the prep cooks. He faked his interest in the conversation while watching our every move. He was easy on the eyes and seemed to earn a lot of second looks from those who came and went, but the fellow behind us? I glanced up and shot him a nervous smile. Flawlessly handsome.
He smirked and I wasn’t sure what the smirk was about. Was it because he blocked the path we intended to take or because he believed we were all just mesmerized by those icy blue eyes? Where was Carter when I needed him? I was more than a ‘handsome man’ kind of girl.
I’m a ‘Carter LeBlanc’ kind of girl.
Ida Belle shot Gertie a stern look that I easily read as her cue.
“So sorry,” Gertie finally said, wheeling around and grabbing the man’s arm to steady herself as she deliberately leaned sideways. “Oh my. You are a buff little thing. Aren’t you?”
“Can I help you, Ms. Hebert?” The man asked in a gravely tone.
“Um...have we met?” She kept her sweet voice steady, unalarmed. “I always remember a handsome face.”
Ida Belle slipped away when Gertie fluffed her hair.
“Have we met?” He looked perplexed. “Not formally, no.”
“Oh wait. You mean. Oh, but of course...” Gertie squeezed his arm again. “I’ve been known to get a little wild in my day. Any chance that I...we....I mean...no. Surely not!”
I snickered, sidestepped to the right, and followed Ida Belle down a short hallway.
“What about Gertie?”
“You’ve known us a while now. Does Gertie strike you as someone who might need help?”
“No, but she also didn’t strike me as someone who would ask a thirty-something year old Marine if they had a moment.”
Ida Belle rested her hand on a doorknob. “What kind of moment?”
“You don’t want to know,” I said, pointing at the door. “Let’s get changed. I’ll call Carter, too.”
“Why? He’s on duty.”
“I need to let him know what’s going on here. Maybe he can call Bob Myers and find out if he’s aware of the elite forces hanging out in Wasteland tonight.”
“Oh, that. Right.”
“It’s our only option. I haven’t heard from Harrison in a few days.”
“Is that normal?” Ida Belle asked.
“Yes. Now that he trusts you and Gertie, he’s not really concerned about the unexpected happenings here. I’m sure he’d call if one of you reached out to him with an emergency. He’s probably tied up with another assignment right now.”
We entered the locker room which doubled as a pretty nice dressing room complete with a dressing table and full-length mirror. I had just slipped off my boots when Gertie opened the door and collapsed on the small bench.
“What is going on in this place?” Gertie asked, breathless.
“Did you run down the hallway?” Ida Belle asked.
“When you look this good, it’s hard to breakaway from an interested man. Why, I had to sprint away from him,” she said, shooting me a quick wink.
“And on a truthful note?” Ida Belle asked.
“I didn’t want to miss anything,” she admitted. “Did I?”
“Nothing,” Ida Belle said, handing her the doughboy costume and head piece.
Gloria met us as soon as we were dressed. She frowned at her list of assigned places.
“Fortune, you’ll be in the haunted garden,” she said, smiling. “Nice costume by the way. If I didn’t know you, I never would’ve guessed who you are.”
“But because you do, you recognize me?”
“Of course,” she said, not catching the look I shared with Ida Belle and Gertie.
We shouldn’t have showed here until we were dressed. If Daigle had something more sinister in mind for the night, we would be at a disadvantage. Gertie and I were hampered by our chosen attire, but Ida Belle wouldn’t be able to move quickly unless she ditched the hooker boots.
“I’m not sure what to do about this one,” Gloria said, pointing to Gertie’s assignment. “Dad wanted you in the morgue.”
“Rude,” Gertie said.
Gloria laughed. “No, I mean, the empty room behind the bar has been converted into a cemetery and morgue. He wanted you to come out of the casket when the tour reaches you.”
“Tour?” I asked.
“We’re doing guided tours. The crowd outside is a little rowdy so Elle’s dad suggested that we do guided tours to keep a handle on anything disruptive happening.”
“Elle’s dad made that suggestion?” Gertie asked.
“Yes. Dad and Mr. Daigle are friends,” she said, bouncing away.
“Wait!” Ida Belle called. “Where do you want me?”
“Oh, sorry,” she said, peering down at the paper. “You and Walter will be at the entrance corner directing traffic.”
“Corner?” Ida Belle asked.
Gloria blushed. “Dad said it was where all hookers stand.”
Gertie bit back a laugh, but I couldn’t control mine. It wasn’t what Gloria had said, but Ida Belle’s reaction.
“If the boots fit, wear them with pride,” Gertie said, pulling her dough boy headgear on. “In the meantime, I’ll be in the casket.” Her muffled voice made her sound like she was in another room. She lifted the top piece and quickly added, “If you don’t see me later, you’ll know where to find me.”
“Whatever you do, don’t pull the lid down on that casket,” Ida Belle said. “If you get hung up in there and you can’t get the head piece off? You’ll suffocate.”
“She’s right,” I said.
“I’ll speak with Gomer,” Gertie promised.
“Do,” Ida Belle stated flatly. “I guess there’s nothing else to do except wait and see if Daigle has a play.” She hesitated a second then reluctantly snapped her fingers. “Places everyone.”
It’s showtime.