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“ARE YOU TELLING ME you broke into Celia’s email account?” Mary-Alice sank into her dining room chairs. “Why, I don’t mean to be judgmental, Miss Gertie, but I hardly need to remind you how dangerous that can be. Surely you haven’t forgotten about my poor grandson. Just because of a few ill-advised keystrokes, that unfortunate young man’s going to be locked away until long after I’ve gone to my final reward. It’s the great sorrow of my life, Miss Gertie.”
In fact, the arrest and conviction of Mary-Alice’s sociopathic grandson had been less and less of a sorrow to her as time had gone on. She had come to realize that everyone was safer and better off with him locked away, that was a fact. There was no point in feeling sad about it. But her point about the consequences of breaking into people’s email accounts stood.
“We’re not going to prison, Mary-Alice,” Gertie retorted. “Fortune knows how to cover her tracks. Besides, and no offense intended, but in your grandson’s case there was the arson and all the other business as well. It wasn’t just the computer hacking.”
“Well now, Miss Gertie, you do have a point there. I’m not saying he was perfect—”
“Is someone there with you?” Gertie interrupted. “Where are you calling from, Mary-Alice? It sounds like there’s a party going on.”
“I’m right here at home, and there isn’t a soul around. Unless you count the crowd of reporters outside.”
“Reporters? No, no, no. Mary-Alice, you call Carter right now and have him chase them away. We can’t have reporters coming in and muddying everything up!”
“Did you say reporters?” Mary-Alice heard Ida Belle shout in the background.
“I got it, Ida Belle,” Gertie shouted back. “Mary-Alice, you’re on speaker, in case you didn’t know. In any event, we haven’t found much. One email to Dorothy about how Celia was going to be out of town Friday, so Dorothy was going to have to run the God’s Wives meeting without her. Pretty much everything in her in-box was spam and junk mail. And her sent email was nothing but minutes and meeting announcements for the GWs.”
“So she was planning to be out of town Friday! Gertie, let me tell you what we found out in Lafitte today.”
Mary-Alice told Gertie about her trip to Lafitte with Boon, and their encounter with the man in the car lot.
Gertie was quiet for a moment.
“Are you telling me,” Gertie said, finally, “that the reason Celia doesn’t want to tell anyone how she got injured is because she got into a fight with a hobo?”
“I believe the evidence does support that conclusion, Miss Gertie.”
“And that’s why Celia’s been telling people you kidnapped her, Mary-Alice? Because she believes that puts her in a more favorable light?”
“Unfortunately, I believe that to be the case.”
“Well, if that doesn’t beat all, pardon the expression.”
“Do you think we should we tell Carter?” Mary-Alice asked.
“Mary-Alice, do you have this man’s name?”
“Well, no, the conversation didn’t come around to that, Miss Gertie, but I’m certain I would recognize him if I saw him again.” Mary-Alice tried to describe the man’s scruffy beard, matted but lush hair, and weathered skin.
“I’m not sure that’s quite enough information for our deputy sheriff,” Gertie cautioned. “If we don’t give him something solid, he might think we’re just trying to throw him off the scent.”
“Oh, silly me, what am I thinking?” Mary-Alice exclaimed. “I wrote everything down in my notebook as soon as I was back in the truck with Boon. Here.”
Mary-Alice pulled out the well-worn notebook with the sunflower-topped pen tucked inside. The sunflower was crumpled and discolored from spending time in her crowded purse. Mary-Alice had gone to buy a replacement at Harriet’s Books, but Harriet had been sold out. Mary-Alice consequently decided that the grime on the flower’s fabric petals made her feel more like a hard-boiled detective.
“Here’s something,” Mary-Alice exclaimed. “I noticed he kept his right hand in his pocket. That might be important, mightn’t it, Miss Gertie?”
“Why yes, it might,” Gertie exclaimed. “If the man punched Celia, he’d have abrasions on his knuckles.”
“Or burns,” Mary-Alice heard Ida Belle yell in the background.
“Oh I don’t know about that,” Mary-Alice faltered. “I mean to say, the man’s appearance was certainly untidy, I don’t dispute that, but he didn’t seem at all like the type to raise a hand to a lady—”
Ida Belle came on the phone to interrupt Mary-Alice.
“Mary-Alice, do stop being such a softie. First of all, I am sorry to have to say this about your cousin-by-marriage, but Celia is not a ‘lady.’ Second, that man is the one who hit her, and until you sic Carter on him, you’re getting the blame. Now you just sit there and try to recall every detail that you can about this man, and...Gertie, where are you going? Are you sure? All right, Mary-Alice, Gertie’s coming over. I’m not sure what she’s up to, but she says she has a plan, so you be careful.