| |
GERTIE AND GILL FINALLY reached the turnout that would allow them to walk through the foliage down to the pond. He appeared rattled as he stepped out of the driver’s side and made his way quickly to the dirt patch on the side of the road.
After revealing the cap in question had been an Atlanta Braves cap, Gertie remained silent, wanting everything to stew in Gill’s head while they were driving.
Gill certainly had plenty to think about. If he were involved with Guillory’s murder, which Gertie was certain of, all this information might present him with a decision to make. Let Gertie take the hat to the newspapers and risk someone recognizing it as his or take care of the situation. In his mind, no one knew that Gertie had the hat or that she was with him today. A perfect opportunity to get rid of her.
And if he tried, she and Eloise were going to be ready for him.
Gertie retrieved the cool chest from behind her seat and handed it to Gill, then took a blanket that Gill had placed on the seat and draped it over her arm. They walked through a grove of cypress trees and soon Branley Road disappeared and gave way to a picturesque pond. If this had been a different day with a different guy, it would be romantic.
“You were right,” Gill said, smiling. “This is worth it. I’m feeling some of my tensions melting just looking at it.”
“I hope I didn’t add to your tensions by bringing up the baseball cap,” she said, adding, “the one I have with me in my purse.”
He quickly shook his head. “Why would it? That baseball cap means nothing to me. I don’t even like baseball. We need to forget about baseball caps and the murder and have a nice picnic.” He pointed to a grassy area. “That spot looks nice. You set up and I’ll grab a couple of sodas from the cool chest.”
She spread out the blanket and sat down.
He opened the lid of the cooler. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of choosing cream sodas for our beverages. You seem like a cream soda girl.”
Gertie cringed. She hated cream soda. Cream sodas were for milquetoasts like Gill. “Mmmm. Cream soda. My favorite. Can I ask you a question, Gill?”
“As long as it’s not about anything crime related.”
“Oh, okay. Then I won’t ask what you were doing after you left my house after having dinner with my family. But since that was the night of the murder, I won’t ask.”
He turned from the cool chest and stared at her. “What?”
“I mean, it’s just that I’m surprised that the sheriff hasn’t asked for your alibi, seeing as how you had been in a relationship with Bonnie.”
“Would you stop being jealous of Bonnie? Not that I need an alibi, but mother asked me to stop by after my dinner with you so she could ask how it went. The Birds came on and I couldn’t help myself. I stayed and watched. Bird droppings are one of my specialties. Now, enough, Gertie. Stop talking so I can prove to you that Bonnie and I are truly over.”
She turned her head toward the pond, pretending to stare at the beauty of the willow trees, and how the shadows from the puffy clouds overhead glided across the pond. In reality, though, she was keeping her eye on Gill’s shadow as he bent down and searched through the ice for the sodas.
He sighed. “That’s better. It’s time to enjoy our picnic and the little surprise I have planned for you. Well, two surprises, actually. I have some interesting news about the samples you gave me.”
“And what’s that?”
She could see his shadow as he pulled out the two sodas and closed the chest. He set the sodas down on the lid. “Well, the white hairs we found near the rental house have been treated.”
“Treated? What do you mean?” She turned around and looked at him.
“We’ll talk about that later. Now, turn around and don’t peek. I have something special to give you, and I don’t want talk of baseball caps or animal hairs to spoil the mood. Just look at the beautiful pond and think good thoughts.”
Gertie turned back toward the water and a view of his shadow, which was moving toward her. She noticed he held his hands out in front of him, parallel, several inches apart.
Instead of sodas, he was holding what looked like some kind of garrote.
Gertie stiffened. Dear Lord, she thought, Mr. Milquetoast was planning on strangling her. Luckily, she’d been in plenty of rodeos just like this. Amazing how many times spies are almost strangled in their careers.
“I certainly like surprises,” she said, reaching inside her blouse for her trusty Eloise, ready to give Gill a surprise of her own.
Or maybe not.
The gun had caught on the frayed fabric of her bra pistol holder. She saw his shadow getting closer. She’d have to do this the old-fashioned way. She let go of her grip on the pistol and whipped around, swinging her feet into his knees, bringing him down to the ground. His garrote flew from his hand, landing a few feet away in the grass.
He screamed like a little girl as she threw herself on top of him and brought his arms around to his back. “I’m armed as well. Eloise might be stuck between my boobs, but she can still fire.”