Lethal Bayou Beauty (14 page)

“Ladies,” I interrupted, not bothering to point out that out of habit, I’d bought every black hoodie in my size at the General Store. “We have bigger issues, remember?”

Gertie stepped over to the window and took a look. “No problem. Give me a minute.”

I looked over at Ida Belle, who shrugged as Gertie hustled back to the kitchen. A minute later, I heard the microwave sound off, then seconds later, Gertie came back down the hall carrying a small plate of cookies and a glass of milk.

“Can someone get the door?” she asked.

I opened the door for her and she walked across the street to talk with Sheriff Lee.
 

“Is she really trying to bribe him with milk and cookies?” I asked.

“Heck if I know,” Ida Belle said.
 

I watched as Gertie motioned to Sheriff Lee to dismount. After several shaky minutes, he managed to arrive upright on my neighbor’s lawn. He took another excruciating couple of minutes to tie the horse to a tree, then even longer to lower himself down to a sitting position with his back against the tree.
 

Gertie handed him the milk and cookies, and he gave her a huge smile. She trotted back to my house, waving over her shoulder as she went. Once inside, she slumped against the living room wall, trying to catch her breath.

Before Ida Belle could say a word, Gertie held up her hand.

“I know,” she wheezed. “I’ve got to get in better shape.”

I shook my head. “How in the world did you guys ever win the banana pudding race with Gertie as your representative?” The rest of the Sinful Ladies sang in choir and weren’t available for the dash. Gertie was tone-deaf, so the availability was there but the capability was seriously lacking.

“Before you came,” Ida Belle explained, “someone would take off from choir duty that day—usually me. I’m thinking of having mandatory PT twice a week. The crew is getting soft.”

I didn’t bother to point out that most of the crew was well beyond the backside of peak performance. But considering the competition wasn’t in any better shape, I supposed it was all relative.
 

“I don’t get it,” I said, returning to the business at hand. “What does giving him milk and cookies accomplish?”

“Give it a minute to work,” Gertie said and motioned to the window.

We peered out across the street as the setting sun disappeared over the next row of houses. The streetlights flickered on, illuminating the sheriff as he chugged the last bit of milk and put the glass on the ground next to him on top of the plate.

“Watch closely,” Gertie said. “One, two three…”

Before she reached four, Sheriff Lee’s head bobbed once, then fell to his chest as his whole body slumped. The horse, following his rider’s lead, leaned against the tree and closed his eyes.
 

A burst of panic shot through me as for an instant, I thought she’d killed him, then I remembered I was in Sinful, not Iraq, and realigned my thinking.

“Did you slip some cough medicine in the milk?”

“Of course not! That would be wasteful.”

“You’re telling me that milk and cookies knocked him out?”

“
Warm
milk and cookies. I bring him a plate of cookies every time I make a new batch. His wife’s been gone for a long while and he really misses her homemade cookies. After two or three, he nods off and I let myself out. He went even faster tonight.”

“Makes sense,” Ida Belle said. “It’s a couple hours past his bedtime.”

Technically, Sheriff Lee was several decades beyond life expectancy, much less bedtime, but I figured it would be rude to point it out. “How long will he sleep?”

Gertie shrugged. “Until morning, unless it rains or someone wakes him up.”

“Well, let’s get out of here before it rains or the neighbor notices his oak tree is holding up a man and a horse.”

Ida Belle had docked her boat in the bayou behind my house, so we headed out the back door and hopped in the small flat-bottom boat. The bayou ran behind the east side of Main Street, allowing us to dock right behind the sheriff’s department, cutting down our risk of being seen.

After taking her seat on the middle bench, Gertie pulled on her black crocheted hat. Ida Belle gave the flowered pattern one glance and shook her head. I held in a smile as she started the boat and set off down the bayou toward town.

The sheriff’s boat was docked at the pier directly behind the building, the floodlight from the back of the building casting a dim glow over the dock. Ida Belle eased her boat up beside the sheriff’s boat where it couldn’t be seen, and we climbed over the sheriff’s boat to the dock.
   

“I know we have the security code, but how are we supposed to get in?” I asked. “Did Myrtle give you a key?”

Ida Belle shook her head. “She only has a key to the front door, and Carter checks the back door before leaving every night, so it wouldn’t do any good for her to leave it unlocked.”

I looked at the thick set of hedges that ran across the back side of the building. “Please tell me we don’t have to go in through a window.”

“We don’t have to go in through a window,” Ida Belle said. “
You
have to lift me up to the window and I’ll let you and Gertie in the back door.”

Suddenly, Ida Belle’s insistence that they couldn’t do this without me made sense. “I suppose it would have been too much of a stretch to just bring a ladder?”

“If something goes wrong, a ladder would give us away. Not like we could run with one.”

I probably could, but I saw her point. If a quick getaway were necessary, leaving the ladder behind would give Carter a clear idea what was going on, and taking it with us presented some logistics problems in the boat.

“Fine, then let’s get on with it before Father Time wakes up and alerts Carter that we’re gone.”

Gertie went to the back door and pulled out the piece of paper with the alarm code. I put my hands in front of my face and pushed through the hedge to the back side, glad I’d worn long sleeves and gloves. The sharp branches of the hedge would have shredded my skin.
 

Ida Belle stepped beside me and gave Gertie a thumbs-up. Gertie punched in the code and we heard a single beep inside. I leaned over and linked my hands together, creating a stirrup for Ida Belle to step in.

As soon as she stepped in my hands, I pulled my arms up and tossed her up the side of the building, praying that she had great balance. As soon as her foot left my hands, I spun around and caught her feet as she grabbed hold of the window sill, then held her in place while she lifted the window. One last push by me and she was over the ledge and in the building.

I heard a loud thump and something breaking on the floor inside. I cringed and hoped it wasn’t Ida Belle that had broken. She peered over the ledge a couple of seconds later and gave me a wave. I pushed back through the hedge, then joined Gertie at the back door, instantly shifting into high alert as if I were on a CIA mission.

Something rattled next to the steps and I automatically reached for the nine millimeter that wasn’t there. Gertie sucked in a breath and we leaned over the steps in time to see a furry face peek out of the trash can.
 

“It’s just a raccoon,” Gertie whispered.

I’d had a run-in with a raccoon in my attic as soon as I arrived in Sinful. As “know your enemy” was a religion for CIA agents, research was in order. I’d been surprised to find they were kind of cute, in a loud, nuisance sort of way, but their dexterity was even more impressive and exhibited clearly why God hadn’t given opposable thumbs to some of the larger, man-eating creatures.
 

Feeling as if we’d been standing there forever, I glanced down at my watch, but only a minute had elapsed since I’d pitched Ida Belle up at the window. I heard the door jiggle, and Ida Belle swung open the door and motioned us inside.

We’d already decided that flashlights were too risky, so we all had glow sticks instead. The soft green light wasn’t bright, but it would provide enough illumination to navigate the office without running into things.

“What did you break?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t something noticeable or expensive.

“Just a tea glass,” Ida Belle said. “I’ll pick up the pieces to bring with us when we leave.”

I nodded. “I guess the file will be in Carter’s office?”

“That’s my guess,” Ida Belle said. “It’s this way.”

Gertie and I followed Ida Belle down a short hallway and into an office.
 

“Spread out and look for the file,” I said. “I’ll jimmy the file cabinet.”

I pulled out a knife and went to work on the metal cabinet while Ida Belle and Gertie dug through the desk and credenza. Opening the cabinet was an easy task for someone with my skill set and only seconds later, I was flipping through files.
 

It didn’t take long to realize that what we were looking for wasn’t there. “Any luck?” I asked as I pushed the cabinet drawers shut and locked it again.

“Nothing,” Gertie said.

“Me, either,” Ida Belle said.

I reached for the trash can and pulled out an envelope. “It’s from the coroner in New Orleans—delivered by courier.”

“Then where is the report?” Gertie asked.

Ida Belle shook her head. “I think we’ve underestimated Carter.”

“He took it home with him,” I said.

Ida Belle nodded. “It certainly looks that way.”

A sliver of fear ran through me. Clearly, Carter expected someone—likely us—to attempt to get information on the case. He’d changed his computer password, required all information be delivered by courier, and had taken the file with him when he left the office.
 

“Why didn’t he change the security code?” I asked.

Ida Belle frowned. “I don’t know.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” I said, “given the other lengths he’s gone to.”

Ida Belle paled. “He set us up. I bet the security company was on the phone with him ten seconds after we entered the building.”

Gertie’s eyes widened. “We have to get out.”

I dropped the envelope back in the trash can and turned the office chair the same direction it had been when we entered the room. “Don’t panic. Ida Belle, run upstairs, collect that broken glass, and climb out the window. I’ll be ready for you. Gertie will start the boat.”

We’d barely made it out Carter’s office door when I heard his monster truck pulling up in front of the building.

“Run!” Gertie yelled and bolted for the back door.
 

For the first time since I’d met her, Ida Belle looked panicked.

“The glass—the window?”

“Forget it,” I said and pulled her arm as I took off down the hallway behind Gertie. “He can’t prove anything if he can’t catch us.”

I heard Ida Belle’s steps pounding behind me and she was only seconds behind as I shot out the door. Gertie was already halfway to the bayou. I could hear keys rattling in the front door.

“We’ll never make it to the boat,” Ida Belle whispered.

Years of training took over and I vaulted over the railing to the ground. I grabbed the trash can and ran back up the steps, ignoring Ida Belle, who was staring at me like I’d lost my mind. I lay the trash can flat in the door opening and pulled the lid off.

The raccoon shot out of the trash can and into the office. As I pulled the door shut, Ida Belle sprang into action, hauling the trash can back to its spot. I jumped up on the tiny metal railing, loosened the bulb in the security light until it blinked out, leaving only the dim light from neighboring buildings to light the lawn. Then I jumped off the railing and ran for the bayou.

I heard a giant crash inside the office and then Carter cursing, but I didn’t take the time to glance back. Gertie had the boat pulled up to the bank and I vaulted into it right behind Ida Belle, who had surprised me with both her speed and her dexterity.

As soon as my feet hit the bottom of the boat, Gertie launched the boat in reverse, throwing me down in the bottom. I peered over the edge of the boat as Gertie changed gears and slammed straight into the big wave she’d created backing up, sending a sheet of water over the boat. I ducked just in time to keep my eyeballs from getting drenched, but the rest of me was not as lucky.

Ida Belle pulled a towel out of the bench she was sitting on and tossed it to me before plopping back down and holding on for her life. Apparently, my drenching was of no concern to Gertie, who never reduced her speed the slightest bit, instead barreling down the bayou at full speed, weaving like a drunk. I refused to even think about the fact that she wasn’t wearing her glasses.
 

The back door to the sheriff’s department flew open and light from inside the office illuminated the exit. The raccoon raced outside and made a beeline for the trees. Carter paused long enough to close the door, then ran for the dock.

My pulse rate ticked into overdrive.
 

“He’s going to catch us,” I said. Ida Belle’s tiny outboard motor was no match for the monster power on the sheriff’s boat.

“We’ll beat him to your house,” Ida Belle said, but her expression was grim.