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“Our counterintelligence operation wrecked my hair and my favorite pair of shoes,” Gertie said, flopping down on one of the plastic chairs in the corner of my living room. “I need to rest a minute. Then, I’ll head home for a hot shower and warm cup of tea.”
Claiming one of the ‘wet chairs’ was like being in timeout. We managed to get ourselves in some messy situations from time to time so we kept furniture on hand for moments like these.
“It wasn’t a total loss,” said Ida Belle, taking her spot next to Gertie. “We were made, but at least we now have a couple of faces in case we need to ID them later. Thing could’ve gone much worse.”
“Says the one who didn’t fall in the swamp,” said Gertie.
“Says the one who found a way to get me there anyway,” Ida Belle grumbled.
I changed the subject. “So what do we know so far? Those two buffoons weren’t helpful. They just stared at us like we were crazy for fishing in the bayou in the first place.”
“Fortune’s right. Those city boys looked like they’d never seen anyone fall in a mud puddle, much less the bayou. So we know two things. Wasteland’s developer –if he is a developer that is—and his crew aren’t from Louisiana.”
“Which we’d already assumed since Carter said they were from Dubai.” I fluffed a pillow and leaned back on the sofa. “I was hoping we would meet the new owner.”
“Soon,” Ida Belle said. “It would’ve been helpful if Daryl hadn’t shown up. We might have discovered more from Marlon and Paul.”
“They seemed like the type who kept a stiff upper lip. I don’t think we would’ve dragged much out of them,” I said. “On a positive note, they don’t appear to be from the Middle East. On a negative one, Ahmad has gotten creative so we could be looking for anyone.”
Gertie grabbed the remote and flipped through channels until she found a local station. We sat quietly and watched the news. I was just about to slip into a nap when I heard, “Up next, we have an interview with Sinful resident Celia Arceneaux. Celia is in charge of the official Wasteland Masquerade Ball which is taking place day after tomorrow. Stay tuned. We’ll be right back.”
It was as if oxygen had been pumped into my living room.
“That lying scoundrel Daryl Arceneaux!” Gertie set her jaw and practically leapt for the television. She looked angry enough to drive over to Wasteland and give Daryl a piece of her mind. “He made it sound like Celia was planning an event, but he didn’t mention it was this week!”
Ida Belle folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. Her body was slanted toward the floor and she looked as if she’d been pushed into the chair instead of simply choosing to lounge in it. She didn’t say a word.
“You knew!” Gertie settled her hands on her hips. “How? Did Carter say something?” She waited a beat. “No. It wouldn’t have been Carter. You get your intelligence from Walter. How long have you known?”
“I didn’t know. I assumed,” Ida Belle said calmly. “Mardi Gras started yesterday in New Orleans. I suspected it would only be a matter of time. Daryl didn’t reach out to Carter to give us a head’s up. He definitely didn’t call him to let him know about a new landowner in town. My guess is, he asked for Carter’s help, in case the crowds were rowdy.”
“Crowds?” Gertie balked at that. “Given the fact that only a handful of people live in Wasteland?”
Ida Belle pointed. “The media is working in her favor.”
“Here’s Celia.” I turned up the volume.
Celia looked as happy as a clam as she stood next to Spirited Schafer from Wasteland Chronicles. Spirited mentioned ‘standing in’ for a WKLM reporter and then pounced on Celia, firing one question after the next.
“I hate to admit it but Celia kind of sounds like a Marketing Director.”
“That’s Celia for you,” Ida Belle grumbled.
“She’s great until you get to know her,” Gertie added.
“Miss Arceneaux, you mentioned off-camera that this event was well-advertised. I’m a Wasteland resident and only just saw the billboard today. Where did your team promote this event?”
“She has a team?” Ida Belle sat upright. “Bull!”
“Shh,” Gertie said. “This may be our only opportunity to find out about the ball.”
“We focused on New Orleans. A lot of tourists go there for Mardi Gras so we spent our advertising dollars where they mattered most. We even offered bonuses to some of the hotel staff members if they sent their guests our way.” She smiled sweetly at the camera. “We were sold out in a matter of hours.”
“So you’re saying the event is standing room only now?” Spirited asked.
“No. Please try to pay attention. Our event requires a ticket and we no longer have tickets available.”
“She’s so hateful,” Gertie said, shaking her head.
“Would you say that most of your attendees are tourists?” Spirited continued.
“Ninety-five percent are tourists,” Celia said. “And the other five percent is made up of the Sinful, Louisiana group. Perhaps you’ve heard of us. We’re called...”
“Got no lives!” Ida Belle shouted at the television.
At that point, watching anything more was a lost cause.
I stood and stretched. “Maybe it’s not a bad thing. If Carter thinks the new Wasteland landowner has an agenda, then it wouldn’t hurt to distance ourselves, especially during a masquerade ball. What can we really find out if everyone’s in costume?”
Gertie’s fingers moved swiftly over her phone. She was texting someone and I didn’t need to guess who.
I rolled my eyes. “Really?”
Gertie slung her purse over her shoulder and headed to the door. “I sent a copy to your email and Ida Belle, read your text. I’m calling an emergency meeting.”
“I didn’t know anything about an emergency meeting,” she said.
“Which is why I did it for you. You’ve been busy and forgot to follow-up with me.” She smiled. “The Wasteland event must’ve slipped my mind. The Sinful Ladies will go along with it.”
Gertie was always prepared to take one for the team. She would make sure that Celia heard how Gertie ‘forgot’ to let the ladies know about the masquerade ball.
“Maybe we are slipping.” Ida Belle frowned.
“We’ve been busy.” Gertie shrugged. “And that’s all Celia needs to know.”
“Ingenious.” These two always thought of everything. “But I have one question. If we weren’t invited, and the tickets are sold out, how will be able to get in?”
“Easy,” Gertie said. “We’ll do what we always do when Celia throws a party. We’ll crash it.”
****
The next day, I met Gertie, Ida Belle, and Marie at Francine’s. Ally was in New Orleans for a culinary workshop which worked out beautifully for us.
At Ida Belle’s direction, Marie had touched base with Ally. She went to some of the popular French Quarter hotels and reported back that some of the desk clerks were familiar with the Wasteland event. The ball was being touted as family friendly and suitable for all ages. Hotel staff members were given free tickets and Ally was on the hunt trying to ‘score’ some.
While Marie updated Ida Belle and Gertie, my phone pinged with back to back messages. I grinned at the remarkable news from Ally and the embarrassing remarks from Carter.
He finally mentioned the words I’d been waiting to see or hear. He’d missed me and wanted some time alone.
How about dinner tomorrow night? I hear there’s a masquerade ball in Wasteland. If you want to go, I’ll take you.
I sighed. Sometimes, he just made my heart dance.
“Must be from Carter,” Ida Belle said.
“And great news from Ally. She scored five VIP tickets which were only given to three hotels in the French Quarter.”
“That’s our girl,” Ida Belle said proudly.
“I knew she could do it if anyone could. No one will expect a thing.” Gertie sipped her coffee in a gleeful moment. She pressed her lips together before she returned her cup to her saucer.
“What is it?” Ida Belle asked, always able to read her better than anyone else.
Gertie reached across the table and took my hand. “Why don’t you sit this one out, dear? We’ve already been spotted and potentially met the very men who will be looking for you. If your short absence taught us anything, it was how much we miss you when you aren’t here.” She waited a beat, glanced at Ida Belle, and added, “We couldn’t stand it if something happened to you. And without enough time to do some counterintelligence, we’re walking into a dangerous situation.”
“Gertie’s right,” Marie said sensibly. “It’s hard enough to find someone when you don’t know what they look like, but if there’s someone out there who wants to hurt you? They have improved chances because they’re in costume.”
“But we’ll have those same improved chances,” I said. “Plus, no one will suspect a thing. We’ll get our digital tickets today and show up tomorrow. By the time anyone sees us, it’ll be too late.”
Ida Belle seemed to weigh the pros and cons before she said, “We’ll definitely need Carter and Walter there.”
Carter now had a very different viewpoint of my situation. While he’d been putting together pieces of information since our fateful Valentine’s date the year before, he hadn’t known everything. Now, he did.
As if Ida Belle had read my mind, she said, “Knowledge is power and this knowledge will help Carter stay on his toes. If anyone looks out of place, he’ll notice.”
I sighed. At a festive costume party, how would we determine who looked out of place?
“Let me talk to Walter. He and Carter will go with us. We’ll eat our breakfast then head over to the General Store so we can choose what we’ll wear to the ball.”
“The last time we went to Walter’s for costumes, Gertie posed as a mannequin and we ended up being target practice for a madman,” I said.
“One thing about it, Sinful sure has been interesting since you moved here,” Marie said, patting my hand. “Now, I promised Francine I’d help out while Ally’s away. I probably need to actually work or she’ll never agree to give Ally time off again. Have fun out there!”
As Marie returned to the kitchen, I took a deep breath. “Why do I feel like we’re about to be blindsided?”
Gertie and Ida Belle swapped glances. It wasn’t a casual stare, but more of a ‘we know something and haven’t decided how to tell you’ kind of look.
“What haven’t you told me?”
Gertie leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. “Celia loves rubbing shoulders with VIPs so we’ll have our work cut out for us. We must avoid Celia at all costs.”
“We do that anyway,” said Ida Belle.
I shook my head. “This is different. If she finds out we’re there, we’ll have a target on our backs. We’ll be at a far greater disadvantage because our enemies will know who we are, but we won’t recognize them.”
Gertie popped a berry in her mouth. Ida Belle thoughtfully sipped her coffee.
“We can’t let our guard down even for a minute.” I stated the obvious. “We still need to assume the new landowner has ulterior motives. He could be our guy, but we won’t know anything for sure until he makes his first move.”
Ida Belle looked concerned. “Fortune, no one wants this guy to leave in a body bag. We just want him to leave very disappointed.”
****
Later that night, I was upstairs brushing my teeth when I heard a crashing sound at the backdoor. A dozen possibilities spun around in my head. Maybe Marge’s old dog Bones had decided that he no longer wanted to live at Marie’s and he’d found his way home.
Maybe Sheriff Lee had lost his burro and was going door to door with picture in hand in hopes that someone had seen him. It wasn’t Ida Belle or Gertie. They both had keys. It wasn’t Walter. He usually called first. Ally was out of town.
That left Carter.
I blew out a hard breath as I thought of the difficult conversation waiting for me on the other side of the door as another round of raps fell against the window panes.
Carter and I needed to have those uncomfortable talks, but I couldn’t bring myself to deal with any of it tonight. Instead of returning downstairs to tell him, I went to my bedroom and grabbed my phone.
The text read:
I’m sorry. I’m too exhausted for company and we have a full day tomorrow. Can I get a raincheck?
He texted back: Okay? Did we have plans tonight?
It was enough to send me reaching for my nine while dialing his number at the same time. Carter wasn’t one who played games, especially since I’d had more than one intruder.
Still, I blurted, “Are you at my backdoor right now?”
“No. I was in bed, but I’ll be right there.”
Relieved, but also knowing I could handle myself, I crept downstairs with my back against the wall. The outside street lights provided good visibility in my front rooms, but I could almost hear a horror movie soundtrack in my head. Maybe I should’ve taken that as a warning.
The knocks stopped as a creak in the floor gave way to my position in the foyer. I waited and listened. Two or three minutes passed. Was someone in the house? At the thought, I quickly rushed through the kitchen and checked the locks. As soon as I jiggled the knob to confirm it, a hammering knock fell upon the front door.
“Fortune!” Carter’s voice rang out. “Fortune! Open up or I’m busting this door down!”
I quickly greeted him with, “All you had to do is ask nicely.”
“Tell me this isn’t a joke.” Carter looked exhausted. “I’ve been in bed for two hours.”
“I’m sorry I woke you. Someone was here. Did you see anything outside?”
“No,” he said, pushing by me. “Stay here.”
“Seriously?” I shook my head and followed him. He paused and his shoulders stiffened, I added, “I feel safer when I’m with you.” And rolled my eyes.
He reached behind his back and patted my hip. “Stay close.”
A little shiver ran down my spine as I wondered just how close we were talking, but before I could get too carried away, my cat Merlin screeched and a loud bang alerted us both to the eeriest of events.
Heavy footsteps landed against the living room floor and a crashing bang followed. Someone had been inside my house. And that someone had darted away, slamming the door behind them.
****
Right after the intruder left, Carter and I darted outside and ran in different directions. We came up empty. Whoever had been inside my home had made off like a skilled bandit in the wind. Either he had some help or he knew Sinful really well which made me uneasy.
How long had my enemy waited for an appropriate time to strike?
Carter called for backup, but backup only consisted of Deputy Breaux. After quick hellos, he swept my place for prints, checked the locks on all the windows and doors, and then picked up cigarette butts at the end of the driveway.
I wasn’t convinced they were related as there were a couple of teenagers in the area that apparently walked around at night smoking cigarettes. For the most part, they’d been harmless, but Gertie and Ida Belle had threatened to start patrolling the streets. They were convinced there was more than teenage rebellion in play.
Carter waited for his deputy to finish collecting the evidence and then locked up. “I’m staying.”
I sat with that for a minute, weighing out how it would all play out if I objected. It wasn’t worth an argument. Besides, after an uninvited guest, I would sleep better with my own personal bodyguard.
“I’m going to bed now,” I said, turning to the steps.
“Fortune?”
I sucked in a deep breath and hoped that whatever he wanted to say could wait until after I’d had some uninterrupted sleep. When I turned to him, there was something in his eyes that made me want to have one of those lasting moments that promised something more.
His face softened. “I missed you. I didn’t understand why you just left without telling me where you’d gone and I acted....poorly.”
That was an understatement.
Gertie and Ida Belle had told me just how poorly he’d acted. He’d questioned them on multiple occasions and even threatened to have them locked up for withholding evidence that could’ve been pertinent in his investigation.
The whole thing was absurd.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” he said sincerely.
“In Sinful, how do you launch an investigation into your girlfriend’s whereabouts without raising all sorts of red flags?”
He grinned and that sweet dimple slipped up his face. “What makes you think I’d care to raise those red flags, girlfriend?”
Heat flooded my cheeks and for a moment, I lost my way, but if anyone could help me find my way back, it was Deputy Carter LeBlanc.