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AS SOON AS CARTER HAD finished his search and his enormous truck was out of sight, Mary-Alice grabbed her handbag and hurried over Francine’s Diner.
As she expected, Fortune, Gertie, and Ida Belle were already sitting at a four-top near the back. But as she made her way to the back of the restaurant, something unexpected happened: people stood up and clapped.
“You go, Mary-Alice!” someone shouted.
“She had it coming!” someone else yelled.
Mary-Alice stopped in her tracks, shocked. People thought she really had put Celia Arceneaux in the hospital. And because of it, they were giving her a standing ovation!
“No! Please don’t applaud!” Mary-Alice protested as she made her way to back of the dining room. “I never hurt anyone, honestly!”
“Mary-Alice, you’re a hero!” Gertie gasped, and then collapsed into fits of laughter.
“It’s too bad Celia isn’t here to see this,” Ida Belle said with a grin.
Fortune said nothing, but looked as concerned as Mary-Alice felt.
“Miss Ida Belle, Miss Gertie, I don’t believe in violence,” Mary-Alice said firmly. “Heaven knows Celia’s not be perfect, bless her heart, but no one deserves a beating like that.”
“Celia does,” Gertie declared.
“Mary-Alice, help yourself,” Fortune said. “There’s more than enough for all of us. And if I keep eating this, I’m going to have to start wearing elastic-waist jeans.”
“What’s wrong with elastic-waist jeans?” Gertie asked.
“Did y’all order already?” Mary-Alice noticed for the first time the platter in the middle of the table. It was piled high with brownies, cookies, and muffins.
“Ally brought it over,” Ida Belle said. “She said it’s on the house. Go on, Mary-Alice, I think you’re the reason we got it in the first place. So, how did the search go?”
Just then, Ida Belle’s ringtone broke into the conversation. It was Fortunate Son, a song she also liked to blast through her helmet headphones as her motorcycle roared down the highway.
Ida Belle quickly stood and walked out, the phone pressed to her ear.
“Go ahead, Mary-Alice,” Gertie urged. “We can catch Ida Belle up later. What happened?”
“Did it seem like Carter really believed Celia?” Fortune added. “Or was he just going through the motions?”
“I believe it went as well as can be expected.” Mary-Alice hesitated, then helped herself to a brownie. “I had the same impression as you, Miss Fortune, that the deputy sheriff was simply doing his best to be thorough and by-the-book. He was ever so nice about putting all of my things back after he’d pulled everything out of my closets. When everything was tidied up, we sat and had a glass of tea and a pleasant chat before he went on his way. Why, that’s the best way to find things out, don’t you think?”
“Find things out?” Fortune looked interested. “Did you get some new information?”
“Well now, there’s one tiny thing, although I’m sure I don’t know what to make of it. Carter let slip something about ‘professional quality’ stitches. Why, he wouldn’t find that remarkable at all unless Celia got them before she went to the hospital, don’t you think? It seems when Celia was brought into the hospital, someone had already stitched her up.”
“Maybe she went to a veterinarian after she got beat up,” Gertie said. “That’s what gangsters do in the movies.”
“They do that in real life too,” Fortune said. “It’s to stay under the radar in case the police are after them. Was Celia doing something illegal when she got injured?”
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Gertie said. “But I can think of exactly two veterinarians she might’ve gone to. One’s a gossip and the other’s a drunk. Neither one would do a good job and keep it quiet.”
“Could she have done it herself then?” Fortune asked. “Stitched herself up? People in extreme circumstances can so pretty amazing things. Pick up cars, give themselves emergency tracheotomies, stuff like that.”
“Celia?” Gertie exclaimed. “Oh, good heavens, no. Not if it was professional-quality stitching.”
“I’m afraid I agree with Gertie,” Mary-Alice said. “Poor Celia can’t sew a button on straight, bless her heart.”
“Okay, here’s a theory.” Fortune gulped her coffee, then made a fist and pounded her chest once, as if to help it go down. “The assailant is a fugitive, or has some reason to be particularly afraid of law enforcement. He inflicted the injuries on Celia, but then he stitched her up, or got someone to do it, to make the problem go away. Celia got away from him, but she’s still afraid he’ll come after her. If she files bogus charges against someone else, like me or Mary-Alice, that assures her attacker she’s not going to reveal his identity. And having it in the paper keeps her in the spotlight so that if he does come after her, people will be watching.”
“You think Celia’s that smart?” Gertie sounded skeptical.
“She’s clever,” Fortune said. “And she has an excellent survival instinct.”
Ida Belle returned and sat down.
“That was Beatrice Paulson. We got one mystery solved, anyway.”
“Beatrice the double—” Mary-Alice caught herself and pressed her fingertips to her lips. “The double agent?” she whispered.
“Uh-huh,” Ida Belle helped herself to a brownie.
“Well?” Gertie asked impatiently.
Ida Belle slowly and deliberately finished her mouthful before she spoke.
“Celia didn’t have anything to do with getting that article into the paper. It was her pals in the God’s Wives.”
“Why would they do that?” Fortune asked.
“Because it seems they have no idea who did this to Celia. At first, when Celia accused Fortune, the GW’s totally believed it.”
“They seriously believed I beat up Celia Arceneaux?” The blueberry muffin Fortune had just taken paused in midair.
“Well, there is some animosity between you two,” Ida Belle said.
“Whatever does Celia have against Fortune?” Mary-Alice asked.
“She’s our friend, for one,” Gertie said, “and Celia’s hated Ida Belle and me since grade school.”
“The banana pudding situation doesn’t help either,” Ida Belle added. “Ever since Fortune joined our team, the Baptists have been first to Francine’s every Sunday. I don’t believe Celia’s had a taste of banana pudding since Fortune got here.”
“Oh, I see.” Mary-Alice nodded. “That does explain quite a bit. Celia’s always been quite fond of Francine’s banana pudding.”
“Anyway,” Ida Belle continued, “when Celia changed her mind and decided to accuse Mary-Alice, even the GWs realized she was just making stuff up. So Beatrice says they got Dorothy to visit the hospital and get a photo, and they forwarded the information to the New Orleans paper. They were hoping the publicity might encourage someone to come forward.”
“And?” Gertie asked.
“Nothing useful so far. I don’t think Celia even knows her picture’s in the paper. She’ll probably blow a gasket when she finds out. Too bad I can’t be there to see it.”
“So what do we do now?” Mary-Alice asked.
Ida Belle shook her head. “Let me think about it. I don’t see where we go from here.”