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“They’re turning off,” Walter said a while later.
“Why does it always have to be the Swamp Bar?” Ida Belle asked forlornly as she wiped coleslaw from her chin.
It seemed every shady character in three parishes frequented The Swamp Bar. Even in the early afternoon, the parking lot was crowded. Gertie pulled into a spot as far from the Firebird as she could get.
“It’s not because of their food,” Gertie chuckled as she turned the engine off and rolled down her window, hoping for a breeze. She took the rest of her meal from Ida Belle. “You can thank me later for stopping at Popeye’s first.”
“Thanks Gertie. You gonna finish that?” Walter asked as he eyed her coleslaw.
“You’re welcome Walter. It’s nice to know someone appreciates it. And yes, I sure am,” she licked her lips and waved her spoon at him.
“Fine, but they do make those containers too small. They hardly contain enough to be worth all the packaging,” he complained.
“Enough about food!” Ida Belle said, sounding frustrated, “what’s our plan?”
“My plan was to go to Mudbug,” Gertie said between bites. “Now, I have no idea.”
They sat for a few minutes while Gertie continued eating. The air was completely still in the car and mosquitoes started buzzing in the windows. Walter slapped one off his arm. “It’s too damn hot to sit in this car and wait for them to come back out,” he said. “They could be in there for hours.”
“So what do we do?” Ida Belle asked. “Just go in there?”
“We definitely know something fishy is going on with the coach and those boys. And, we do have some bait,” Gertie said, wriggling her eyebrows at Ida Belle.
“Oh no you don’t!” Ida Belle exclaimed.
“What are you talking about?” Walter said, and glared, first at Gertie and then at Ida Belle. Then it seemed a light bulb went off over his head. “I really don’t like using her as bait.”
“He’s so gross,” Ida Belle complained, grimacing.
“It’s not like you have to do anything,” Gertie chuckled. “Just be your beautiful, charming self, and we’ll see if we can get them talking... Or we can just sit here.”
“Fine, but I’m not touching him again,” Ida Belle said. “His hand was greasy, and he’s just gross.”
“I agree,” Walter said sternly to them as he reached for his door handle, “no more touching.”
They walked in the bar and were blasted by Tag Team’s “Whoomp! There It Is.” Wading through bodies, they slowly made their way to the back of the bar where the young men had taken up residence by the pool table. The coach was at the bar, buying a pitcher of beer. It looked like a refill.
“They must’ve been thirsty,” Gertie said quietly, eying the empty glasses on their table.
“No other reason for anyone to come in here,” Walter mumbled as he motioned toward a table near the boys. “Stay here. I’ll get us a pitcher and some glasses.”
Gertie climbed up and sat down after closely examining her barstool. “This whole place is nasty,” she said.
“This was all your idea,” Ida Belle grumbled as she sat facing Gertie, defiantly placing her back to the coach’s table, “now what?”
“We wait,” Gertie replied. “One of them will notice us. It’d be rude to ignore us, right?” She glanced up at their table just as Walter showed up with the beer. “That was quick. Normally it takes a while to get any service in here.”
“Yeah, I might’ve tipped him a bit much,” Walter explained, looking sheepish as he balanced three glasses and the pitcher. He placed the glasses on the table and started pouring the beer. “I didn’t want to leave you two here alone for too long. I don’t like this plan.”
“Noted again,” Gertie chuckled, “although you shouldn’t worry. She doesn’t appear to like this plan anymore than you do.” She laughed out loud at the grimace on Ida Belle’s face. “Nope, not at all.”
“I don’t like the plan and right now I don’t much like you either, so shut up Gertie,” Ida Belle said, teeth clenched. She reached for her glass and took a huge gulp, spilling a bit down her chin.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Gertie answered as she reached across the table and tried to wipe Ida Belle’s chin.
“Knock it off! I mean it,” Ida Belle growled as she slapped her hand away.
“I forgot napkins,” Walter mumbled, “be right back.”
“Shhh, he’s coming over,” Gertie whispered through her teeth, trying to look like she was smiling at her.
“Well, this is delightful,” Gordo said louder than he needed to as he approached their table carrying a full pitcher of beer. “Imagine running into you two so soon. Did you follow us here?” he asked and then chuckled smugly.
“Hey Gordo,” Gertie said, while Ida Belle just nodded at him. “What are you doing here? And with the twins?” she asked as she waved at the boys while the coach dropped the pitcher on their table. “I thought they were looking for their friend? Is he here too?”
“He seems to have completely disappeared,” Gordo said and shrugged.
He came around the table toward Ida Belle just as Walter was heading back from the bar with a fistful of napkins.
“I wouldn’t...” Gertie started to say as Gordo smugly wrapped his arm around Ida Belle’s shoulder.
“Get your damn hands off her!” Walter roared and rushed up to them. He towered over Gordo and looked like he could simply squash him if he had a mind to.
Ida Belle swung her purse at the exact same minute, hitting Walter right in the stomach. He fell backwards, taking the redheads to the floor, along with the table they were perched at.
Walter hit his head on the table, shattering it into pieces.
“That’s it!” the bartender yelled, picking up the phone off the bar. “I’m calling the cops. You have about ten minutes to pay for that table and get the hell out of here if you don’t want trouble.”
“Geez lady, back off, I didn’t mean anything,” Gordo said, as he tried to help the redheads scramble out from under Walter.
“How’d you knock him out with your bag?” Beau or Boone asked, looking up at Ida Belle and then back down at the big man passed out on the floor. “You did a number on him.” He added, almost admiringly.
“It’s my gun. Adds some heft,” Ida Belle said and pointed her purse directly at the coach. “Let’s move this outside, why don’t we. Unless you’d rather wait in here and get arrested?”
“Coach? We gotta get outta’here,” one of the redheads said nervously, eying the door.
“Go pay the man,” Ida Belle said to the coach. “And you two,” she motioned to the twins, “help us with him.”
“Me, pay him? Why me?” Gordo asked.
Ida Belle glared at him. He sputtered for a minute and then took off for the bar. The rest of them struggled to help Walter up off the floor.
“Geez, he’s heavy,” one of the redheads said when they finally got him up.
“Z’all muscle son,” Walter mumbled in reply.
“Do you need us to take you to the hospital?” Ida Belle asked Walter.
“Just need a minute,” he wheezed, “gotta catch my breath.”
“You stupid man. You should’ve stayed out of my way. You know I don’t need a man to fight my battles.”
“Yeah?” Walter slurred, “well, I know I’m at the top of that no-man list of yours, and I aim to stay there.”