Chapter Nine

 

“Where’s the popcorn?” Gertie called from the living room.

“You’re not eating that crap on my new rug!” Ida Belle yelled back from the kitchen.

I stood in the pantry clutching the bag of popcorn, not certain whether to head for the microwave or my Jeep. The two of them had been impossible since I’d walked through the door, and I was ready to shoot them both. The fact that we were a mere ten minutes into my senior babysitting adventures was a really, really bad sign.

“How are we supposed to watch a movie without popcorn?” Gertie yelled.

“If you’re going to eat popcorn, you have to stand in the hallway,” Ida Belle shouted back.

I stalked to the microwave, determined to restore peace if it was the last thing I ever did. “Wouldn’t it just be easier to move the rug? Because I have every intention of eating and drinking and I’m not going to stand in the hallway to do it. Nor am I going to sit at the kitchen table with you two squabbling as my only source of entertainment. Because I have to tell you, you’re not all that entertaining.”

Ida Belle stared at me. “Who pissed in your cornflakes?”

“You did. And her. The two of you are like battery acid tonight. One more word and I’m going home. Carter can get someone else to babysit. If I wanted children, I’d give birth.”

“Touché. I suppose we’re both a little on edge.”

“Well get off the edge. Roll up the damned rug, pop this popcorn, grab us a couple of beers, and let’s get this show on the road. I am so tired of conflict, I’m ready to join a Zen cult.”

“I don’t think they’d approve of your chosen profession,” Ida Belle said. “Fine, we’ll roll up the damned rug and cart all manner of food and drink into the living room. What are we watching anyway?”

“I don’t know. Gertie picked.”

Ida Belle grabbed the bag of popcorn and shoved it in the microwave. “Probably another one of those horrible chick flicks.”

“For your information,” Gertie said as she strolled into the kitchen, “I rented The Expendables 1 and 2.”

I held in a grin. “A bunch of old mercenaries getting involved in things they have no business doing. How appropriate.”

“You are really catching up on modern film,” Gertie said approvingly.

“The other night, I watched a Rambo series marathon.”

The microwave dinged and Gertie rushed over to remove the popcorn. She ripped into the bag, then dropped the entire thing into the bowl and ran to stick her fingers under cold water. Ida Belle shook her head, pulled the bag from the ends, and dumped the popcorn into the bowl. 

“She’s never going to learn,” Ida Belle said as she walked past me and into the living room.

I grinned and grabbed three beers from the refrigerator before traipsing behind her. The opening credits had barely finished when the doorbell sounded. We all froze, then looked at one another, probably all afraid that whoever was outside brought more bad news. 

Finally, Ida Belle got up and opened the door. “Damn it, Marie,” she said as she waved the other woman inside. “Why didn’t you call? We all thought you were Carter coming to arrest me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Marie said, clearly dismayed that she’d given us a scare. “But I needed to tell you something and that woman got me so flustered with her talk—tell her right away, don’t use a phone because they might be listening—I thought I’d have a heart attack on the way over here.”

“What in the world are you talking about?” Ida Belle asked. “What woman? And sit down before you pass out.”

Marie dropped onto the couch, clutching her purse. “Babs Gaspard. That friend of Celia’s.”

“What in the world did Babs say that’s got you so upset?”

“It wasn’t what she said. It was all that spy stuff. Do you really think someone is always listening to our phone conversations, because I got into a fight with my cousin the other day and said some things about her I’d rather not be repeated, even though they were true.”

“Your cousin Shirley?” Gertie asked.

Marie nodded.

“That makes sense,” Gertie said. “Most everything said about Shirley is true.”

Ida Belle waved a hand at Gertie. “Forget about Shirley. And forget what that silly woman said. No one is listening to your phone conversations.”

“Are you sure?” Marie asked and looked over at me.

“I’m fairly certain,” I said. “It’s not as easy as one might think to get an order for a wiretap or to intercept a cellular signal.”

Marie’s eyes widened.

“At least, that’s what I’ve read,” I said, trying to cover my faux pas.

“Oh right,” Marie said, her expression clearing in understanding. “I bet you read a lot of different things while you’re working in the library.”

“You know it,” I said. “So what did Babs say that you needed to tell us?”

“She said there’s a man at Ted’s house. No one’s ever seen him before. He’s young, probably Paulette’s age, and showed up this evening.”

“Ted’s family?” I asked.

Marie shook her head. “Babs didn’t know. She just said Celia told her to get the information to me and to tell me to take it straight to Ida Belle.”

“Why in the world would Celia Arceneaux think I’d want to know about some strange man visiting Paulette?”

I sighed. “Because that’s Celia’s way of helping.”

Marie looked even more confused.

“Celia paid me a visit this afternoon,” I explained, “expressing her support of Ida Belle’s innocence—to remain anonymous, of course—and asked me to find the real murderer. I thought I’d convinced her that it would be dangerous for civilians to attempt to corner a killer, but apparently, stubbornness runs in the water supply around here.”

“Oh, I see,” Marie said, “and Celia didn’t want to talk to me directly, so she sent Babs instead. Like a secret messenger.”

“Some secret,” Ida Belle said. “Babs’s mouth flaps like sheets in a hurricane.”

Gertie sighed. “Impolite, but true.”

“So what else did Babs say?” I asked.

“That’s it,” Marie said. 

“What do you mean, that’s it?” I asked. “That’s barely more than nothing at all. You know, if people are going to insist on playing Nancy Drew they should really make sure they have something worth sharing before they go all covert operation.”

“Maybe it’s not Ted’s family,” Gertie said. “Maybe it’s Paulette’s boyfriend.”

Marie’s eyes widened. “Paulette has a boyfriend?”

“We don’t know,” I said. “It’s just a theory that if Paulette spent her time in New Orleans fooling around with another man, that he might have gotten jealous and killed Ted.”

“Oh, that’s a good theory,” Marie said. “Except that it’s Paulette. Would a man really kill someone over Paulette?”

“Therein lies the rub,” I said. “And even if Paulette was having a torrid affair, I hardly think that man would show up at her front door the same day her husband was murdered. No one could be that stupid.”

“Well…” Ida Belle said. “But I happen to agree with you on this point. So I guess we need to find out who this man is.”

“Oh, Babs said Celia was going to handle that,” Marie said. “She’s going to bring Paulette a casserole tomorrow. She’ll pass the information on to Babs as soon as she’s done, then Babs will tell me, then I’ll call you first to let you know I’m coming, then come over here to tell you what she says.” Marie sighed. “Jeez, I’m tired just thinking about all of it.”

“Me too,” I said.

Marie jumped up from the couch. “Well, I guess I’ll let you ladies get back to whatever it is you were doing.”

“Watching a movie and eating,” Ida Belle said. “Why don’t you join us?”

“I can’t. I left a casserole baking and it was done about five minutes ago.” With that, she dashed out the door, slamming it behind her. 

I shook my head. “Marie is far too nervous to make a good operative.”

“And she’ll burn her house down,” Gertie said.

“What do you make of this guy at Paulette’s?” Ida Belle asked.

“Nothing yet,” I replied. “Too many possibilities. I guess we’ll have to wait until Celia finds out more.”

“I guess so.” Ida Belle flopped back on the couch. “Fire up the movie, Gertie.”

I settled back in the recliner and tried to focus on the movie. It was a decent flick, but my mind kept wandering back to Paulette and her New Orleans trips, the strange man who had arrived in town the day of the murder, and the gopher poison that the whole town knew about.

I was completely lost in my thoughts when glass broke on the window behind the couch and something came flying into the living room, crashing into a lamp on the far side of the room. Ida Belle and Gertie hit the floor and I flipped backward over the recliner. I peered around it and saw something large and covered with paper surrounded by vase shards.

Tires squealed outside and I jumped up to get a look at the vehicle, but all I could manage in the dim streetlights was a dark-colored truck. 

“Don’t touch it!” Gertie yelled at Ida Belle. “It could be a bomb.”

I turned around to see Ida Belle leaning over the lump, about to pick it up.

“Then touching it isn’t going to make a difference, is it?” Ida Belle said.

I hurried over as Ida Belle picked up the object.

“It’s just a rock covered with paper,” Ida Belle said as she removed the rubber bands to peel the paper away from the rock.

Yankee-loving murderer.

“Now, there’s a sophisticated message,” Ida Belle said. “If only we could narrow down the pool of suspects to less than the entire Sinful population.”

“We can,” I said pointing to the back of the paper. “The idiot wrote that message on his utility bill.”

Ida Belle flipped the bill over. “Looks like Shorty didn’t learn his lesson with that boat mishap.”

“I’m calling Carter,” Gertie said.

I looked over at Ida Belle, expecting her to protest, but she just nodded. Apparently, she saw the wisdom in being the victim.

###

It only took Carter five minutes to show up at Ida Belle’s house. It took five seconds for him to sigh in disgust at the message on the utility bill. 

“I don’t know whether to be happy he’s made my job so easy,” Carter said, “or pissed off that someone that stupid not only roams the earth, but lives in my hometown.”

“I’m voting for pissed off,” I said and tapped the bill. “Notice those big red words ‘Cancellation notice’ written on here. If he’s not paying his water bill, I seriously doubt he has the cash for your truck or Ida Belle’s window.”

Carter perked up. “That makes things easier on me. I figured locking him up would mean no pay and that means no money for my truck, but if he’s not paying his bills anyway, there’s no loss. Sorry about the window, Ida Belle.”

“No worries,” Ida Belle said. “I wanted to get some of those new high-efficiency windows anyway. But I’m pressing charges. That vase was expensive.”

“I’m pressing charges too,” I said.

“For what?” Carter said. “You assaulted him this afternoon.”

“For shooting at me—did you forget that part? And at this point, I can make a good case for stalking.”

Carter gave me an aggrieved look. “You really want me to press charges for stalking? This town isn’t as big as a postage stamp. When it comes down to it, we’re probably all stalking one another as soon as we walk out our front doors.”

“I know that, but you can use it to threaten him to stay away from us.”

He smiled, understanding my angle. “That I can do. Normally, I’d want the three of you at the sheriff’s department tomorrow to give statements, but given that our toilet is broken,” he said as he looked at me, “I can’t have civilians in the building.”

“Can we do them here?” I said, feeling slightly guilty.

“I’ll bake muffins,” Gertie said and clapped her hands. “It will be a party.”

Carter stared at Gertie for a moment, apparently not on the party train with her. “I have to go pick up Shorty. I’ll see you here tomorrow morning at ten. If something changes, I’ll call to reschedule.”

Carter left and I locked the door behind him. “Do you have something to cover that hole?” I asked.

“There’s trash bags and duct tape in the kitchen,” Ida Belle said. “I’ll cover it with a tarp on the outside tomorrow. Eddie is the only window guy in Sinful, and it will take forever for him to get to the work. Guess I’ll look like a vagrant until then.”

“Is he busy with hurricane repairs?” I asked.

“Hell no,” Ida Belle said. “He’s busy being drunk. I have to wait until he runs out of money for booze before he’ll take the job. He just finished installing new windows in the school cafeteria so it could be fall before he needs to work again.”

I shook my head. “If Walter can order the windows, I’ll install them myself.”

Ida Belle and Gertie stared. “You can install windows?” Ida Belle asked.

I shrugged. “Understanding building structure was part of the job…you know, for access purposes. And sometimes we had to build our own shelter. They were makeshift mostly, but I know how to work with wood. Should be a lot easier here without sand blowing in my face and the fear…”

“Fear of what?” Ida Belle asked.

I laughed. “I was going to say without the fear of someone shooting at me, but apparently that doesn’t apply.”

Gertie shook her head. “It’s like I always say, you never know—”

“When someone might start shooting,” I interrupted.

Famous last words.