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THE MISSION HAD BEEN a success, Mary-Alice learned over a breakfast of blueberry squares and sweet tea.
“Now, I in no way intend to endorse Gertie’s reckless behavior,” Ida Belle explained. “But when Gertie set the pole rolling and kicked you in the head, Mary-Alice, well, we couldn’t have planned a better distraction. You know head wounds bleed like crazy, even when they’re not that serious.”
Mary-Alice reached up and felt a gauze pad on her forehead. She hadn’t looked in the mirror yet, and didn’t realize that she had any kind of visible injury.
“When Celia saw the blood,” Fortune said, “she passed out.”
“Is that what happened?” Gertie asked. “Celia fainted?”
“Yeah, you were trying to untangle yourself from K-9 by that time,” Fortune said.
“It didn’t look like she was trying very hard,” Ida Belle added. “Anyway, with all that going on, it wasn’t that hard to take Celia’s phone. I even managed to use Celia’s finger to unlock it.”
Ida Belle held up a smartphone between her thumb and forefinger.
“Is that a photograph of Celia?” Mary-Alice asked.
“Yep.” Ida Belle set the phone down on the kitchen table. “Yes, Celia Arceneaux went to the trouble of having a custom phone case made with her big fat face printed on it. The narcissism of that woman knows no bounds.”
“The phone was way more useful than Celia’s email,” Gertie said eagerly. “We could see who she’d been calling.”
“Who?” Mary-Alice asked.
“Doctor’s offices,” Fortune said. “Including several calls to one in Lafitte, starting last month.”
“A doctor’s office in Lafitte?” Mary-Alice asked. “Oh, you must mean the little medical office near the diner.”
“That’s the one,” Fortune said. “Lafitte Pain Management Clinic and Surgery Center.”
“Were they treating her injuries?” Mary-Alice asked.
“They caused her injuries.” Ida Belle slapped a piece of paper on the table. “We printed this off from their website.”
Mary-Alice picked the paper up and read aloud.
“The Southern Belle’s Beauty Secret. Come in on Friday, look years younger by Monday. Payment plans available. What on earth...oh my heavens, are you saying Celia got a facelift?”
“That explains the bruising on her face,” Fortune said.
“Celia?” Mary-Alice exclaimed. “But...Celia won’t even wear makeup. She took me to task for getting my hair tinted!”
“That’s why it was so important to hide what she was doing,” Ida Belle said. “We figure she took the bus down to Lafitte on Friday, got the procedure done, stayed overnight, and came back early the next morning. She thought she’d sneak back into her house and recover with no one the wiser. But Miss Cookie and her new scooter messed up her plans. Not only did Miss Cookie see Celia’s bruising, she injured Celia for real when she tripped her.”
“Celia panicked,” Gertie said. “She came up with a ridiculous story about being kidnapped and beaten up, and then she had to double down. She didn’t want anyone to know the truth.”
“But wouldn’t the folks at the hospital figure it out?” Mary-Alice asked.
“Possibly,” Fortune said. “But medical privacy laws limit what they can share, even with law enforcement. And don’t forget, thanks to Miss Cookie, Celia has some real injuries. I saw facial contusions and possible nasal fracture. And her arm’s immobilized, meaning she probably broke a wrist or elbow when she fell.”
“So now the fun begins.” Ida Belle leaned forward. “We call in an anonymous tip to the sheriff. They’ll be able to confirm Celia’s visit to the surgical center. Then we call the paper and tell them—”
“No,” Mary-Alice declared. The three women looked at her, and she herself almost seemed startled by her decisiveness. She took a moment to collect herself. “No, that’s stooping to Celia’s level, to try to shame her publicly. We’re better than that.”
“No we’re not,” Gertie said.
“If you don’t mind,” Mary-Alice said, “I’d like to go see Celia. And return her phone to her.”
“Mary-Alice, what kind of a doormat are you?” Ida Belle cried.
“Well, Miss Ida Belle, the way I see it is this. We have some very valuable knowledge. Leverage, if you like. We can squander it now, and get only a momentary and malicious satisfaction in return. Or we can bank it for the future. I believe it’s wiser to take the latter course. I mean to say, yes, we can tell the sheriff and put the story in the paper and embarrass Celia. If you absolutely insist.”
“Or?” Fortune asked.
“Or, I can pay Celia a visit, and let her know that we know all about her ‘Southern Belle’s Beauty Secret’, and that she might like to consider dropping the charges. I imagine she will. And not only that, we now have a means to influence her behavior in the future. Which we would only use for good, of course.”
“Your plan makes sense, Mary-Alice,” Fortune said. “I like it.”
“What’s she going to tell her friends then?” Gertie asked.
“I believe the best story would be one with an element of truth to it,” Mary-Alice said. “She was out walking, she had an unfortunate accident involving Miss Cookie and her souped-up scooter, and she might have had a touch of delirium as she was recovering in the hospital. Miss Cookie’s claiming she mistook Celia for a zombie isn’t really out of character for Miss Cookie. I don’t believe Miss Cookie likes Celia much.”
Mary-Alice looked around the table, and seeing no objection, picked up Celia’s phone.
“How will you explain the fact that you’re returning her phone?” Ida Belle asked. “You can’t tell her we hired a stripper to distract her so we could steal it.”
“Certainly not,” Mary-Alice replied. “I’ll simply slip it underneath her bed before I leave. That way she’ll find it on her own and assume she must have dropped it.”
Gertie sighed and stood up.
“Where are you going?” Ida Belle demanded.
“To drive Mary-Alice back to the hospital. Her car’s not here. And I’m not sure she should be driving so soon after she got that bump on the head.”
“Good point, Gertie,” Ida Belle conceded. “Especially since you were the one who clocked her.”