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We spent the next morning studying intelligence. Marie kept a key so she could come and go as she needed. She diligently kept our charts updated while Gertie, Ida Belle and I carried on with normal day to day activities, as normal as they could be as we dug for information about the Daigles and their mob connections.
Gertie and Ida Belle were called away in the early afternoon for an emergency meeting. Apparently, the SLS cough syrup recipe was leaked to Celia’s group. The pair looked beside themselves when they left, but later called to let us know it was a hoax. I was glad to hear it. If that recipe made its way to the general public, the Sinful Ladies would lose one of their primary sources of income. That act of treason wouldn’t go unnoticed.
With my senior friends preoccupied, I headed to Ally’s place. We spent the afternoon in a couple of hammocks. She read while I slept. In fact, it wasn’t until right before sunset that I finally looked up and asked, “What time is it?”
“Time to plan a wedding.” Ally laughed and held up her phone. “Might want to check your texts.”
“As long as the wedding isn’t mine, I can handle anything.” I sat forward and dragged my phone from my hip pocket. I blinked, opened my eyes wider, and even went as far as pinching myself. “This can’t be real.”
Ally pressed her lips together, suppressing a laugh.
“Is this some kind of a joke?” I asked, wondering what Ida Belle would say, how she would advise Gertie, and how Gertie would handle everything going forward. “I have to go.” I jumped up. “Don’t respond yet.”
“But she wants me to bake the wedding cake!” Ally called out behind me. “I can’t say no!”
“Trust me. There won’t be a wedding.” I waved and hopped in my jeep.
Minutes later, I screeched to a halt. Gertie’s Cadillac was parked next to my garage. As I rushed to the backdoor, Ida Belle leaned out of the upstairs window. “Come to the war room!”
I blew out a hard breath. We definitely needed that war room now. I could only imagine what life held in store.
Passing through the kitchen, I paused long enough to grab an apple and water from the fridge, then continued upstairs.
“He asked Celia to marry him!” Gertie sat on the ladderback chair next to the window. She rested her hands in her lap and shook her head, practically timing the headshakes with each syllable. “Can you believe that!”
“Yes, I read the text.” I stopped. “I mean, no. I can’t believe it.” I waited a beat, judged Gertie’s level of angst and added a Southern, “Why, the very nerve of that man!”
Ida Belle rolled her eyes. Gertie sniffed.
I was so unprepared for this.
“To be fair, you two weren’t destined to be lovers.” Given Ida Belle’s wide eyes, that was the wrong thing to say. “I mean, you only spent a couple of days talking. Right?”
“He asked Celia to marry him.” She heaved a breath. “And then he had the audacity to ask me to be his mistress!”
“He...” I cracked up. I couldn’t control it, much less stop it.
“This is not funny, Fortune.” Gertie dabbed at her eyes. “Who does that?”
“Mobsters,” Ida Belle suggested, giving me a firm look as we both waved at Marie when she entered the attic with a box of tissues.
“How are you?” I whispered.
“Great, but truly bothered by this. Why Gertie’s not been this upset since she sprained her ankle chasing her high school sweetheart. Did she fall for this man?”
“Did she have a high school sweetheart?”
Ida Belle shook her head once, thinned her lips, and pretended to lock them and throw away the key.
I realized too late that she meant me instead of herself. I said, “Look on the bright side, he can’t suspect that we know anything about him. Any suspicions and he might have proposed to you to keep you from testifying against him.”
Gertie dabbed her eyes again.
“And you could also look at this another way, too. Most mobsters in movies never sleep with their wives. They’re always the ones in the kitchen standing over a hot stove.” The sniffy slowed so I added, “On the other side of town, the mob member is stepping out of a steam room with the mistress...”
“Who ends up getting pumped full of bullets because she’s always standing too close to the one on a hit list!” Gertie exclaimed.
I cleared my throat. “At least you would go out in a blaze of glory.”
“I’d rather go out with a frying pan in my hand,” Marie admitted.
“Listen to all of you,” Gertie said. “You’re glad he didn’t propose marriage because you really believe he’s guilty!”
“He is guilty,” Ida Belle said. “The fact that he wants to take a mistress and a wife at the same time says enough about his character.”
“He wants division,” Marie said.
I smiled. “If division is what he wants, why disappoint him?”
Gertie perked up. “What are you thinking?”
“Admittedly, nothing comes to mind yet,” I said, turning to Ida Belle. These sort of missions were her cup of tea.
“Don’t worry, I’m all over it,” Ida Belle assured us. “Gertie, pull up those big girl panties. You and I finally have the best weapon we could ever hope to use against Celia Arceneaux.”
I didn’t like where this was going. “Do you really want to hurt Celia in matters of the heart?”
Ida Belle shrugged. “It will teach her a lesson. Let’s not forget that Celia made a recent pass at Walter.”
“Therein lies the rub,” I muttered.
“As if he would even notice,” Gertie said. “Besides, you’re assuming too much. Celia may feel a tad honored that anyone would want to marry her, but she isn’t in love with Jax.”
“She also has a husband that she never declared legally dead so there’s that. Still, this man had the nerve to ask you to be his mistress.” Ida Belle grinned. “We’ll play that to our advantage.”
I groaned. We’d gone from facing off with mobsters to a small town showdown. I couldn’t help but wonder which would be more interesting, or more dangerous.