Lethal Bayou Beauty (17 page)

“I don’t get it,” I said, deciding I couldn’t keep my opinion to myself. “Why do you keep chasing her if she’s not interested?”

“Who said she wasn’t interested?” He grinned. “She’s interested all right. Ida Belle’s just stubborn is all.”

“Well, not to offend either of you, but I hope she loosens up before you both die.”

Walter choked on his coffee, wheezing and laughing at the same time. “You are quite the breath of fresh air in a town of hidden agendas and hypocritical politeness.”

“Is that why you invited me for coffee cake?”

He sobered and shook his head. “I’m afraid my reasons for that weren’t near as pleasant as discussing our potential for dating in this town.”

I felt my heart drop. If Walter had plied me with sweets as an opener, what he had to say couldn’t possibly be good.

“Lay it on me,” I said, hoping to ease the discomfort he clearly felt. “Nothing you say could surprise me at this point.”

He nodded. “I suppose that’s true.” He took a deep breath and leaned across the counter, even though we were the only people in the store.
 

“Friday night about ten, me and Shorty, the butcher, were standing around the side street at the mechanic’s bay, watching a couple of bull gators that were scrapping in the bayou behind the shops. I heard heels click across the wooden entry mat that Shorty has in front of his shop, then I heard Pansy talking.”

“Who was she talking to?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Wasn’t no one else there, so I guess she was talking to herself. Pansy always did like the sound of her own voice.”

“I assume she was talking about me?”

“She didn’t name any names, but she was ranting. Said, ‘That bitch isn’t going to ruin this for me. By the time I’m done, her and her fake blond hair will be crawling back under whatever rock she came out from under.’”

Okay. It wasn’t the nicest thing someone could say about me, but it wasn’t exactly damning. “Is that it?”

“No. I heard her dialing, then the next thing she said was, ‘Meet me at my house tonight at midnight. We have a business matter to discuss.’ Then the heels went clicking away.”

I perked up. “That’s great news! All they have to do is check Pansy’s cell phone and see who she called. That lets me out of it.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that easy,” Walter said. “I overheard Carter talking to the forensics team. They’re looking for Pansy’s cell phone, but I don’t think they’ve found it.”

Shit!
As Ida Belle would say—this was not good.

I looked across the counter at Walter, who looked absolutely miserable. “Please don’t feel bad about this, Walter. You didn’t have any choice but to tell Carter. This is a murder investigation and he’s your nephew.”

Walter straightened up and frowned. “Oh, hell, I didn’t tell Carter anything and won’t. I think I’m smart enough to know a murderer when I see one, and you don’t fit the bill.”

“Thank you,” I said and smiled. If he only knew.

“But that idiot Shorty is feeling guilty and I think he’s going to cave. He tried to convince me to say something, but I played dumb and told him I didn’t hear anything as my right ear’s been clogged. He wants to be a snitch, that’s all on him.”

“I imagine most people don’t like being involved in something like this.”

“Talking to the police is what will involve him. Keeping his mouth shut doesn’t hurt anyone.”

I frowned, thinking about the conversation that Walter had overheard. “I don’t get it. I mean, the first part of it, clearly she’s bitching about me. But then she shifted gears and made the phone call. So who did she want to meet at midnight for a business discussion? And what kind of business?”

“I been racking my brain on that one for days. I just don’t know.”

“But we have to assume that it was the murderer.”

Walter nodded. “Seems to be the case.”

“Pansy has been gone from Sinful for years. What kind of business would she have with someone here?”

“Blackmail was the first thing that came to my mind, but then I’ve never thought all that highly of the girl or her mother.”

Considering what I knew about Pansy’s little IRS problem, blackmail sounded like a really good bet. “Any ideas who she had on the hook?”

He shook his head. “It could be anybody male. Most every man in Sinful’s been looking over his shoulder and holding onto his wife a little tighter since Pansy got back into town. She probably had the juice to cause problems with any number of them.”

“Do any of them have the money to pay?”

“I’d say several of them do. Not LA kind of money, but some of the guys Pansy ran with in high school work construction in New Orleans. Others work on oil rigs. They make enough to afford nice houses, pickup trucks, and bass boats, and none of their wives work.”

“So she might not get rich off of any one of them, but if she hit up all of them, she might be able to leave Sinful with quite a nest egg.”

Walter nodded. “You got it.”

I blew out a breath. “But how do I prove it?”

“
That
is the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.”

The bells above the front door jangled. Walter glanced at the front of the store, then frowned. “It’s the mayor’s wife,” he said, his voice low.

It took every ounce of self-control for me not to whip my head around and get a look at the woman who had been worth half of the mayor’s money. I was willing to bet anything that she wasn’t worth it.
 

I heard heels clicking on the hardwood floor and finally, they came to a stop beside me. I looked up into the disapproving stare of an attempted-and-failed Marilyn Monroe look-alike.
 

A very worn mid-forties. A hundred forty pounds, but she probably lies and says one hundred ten. Fake hair, nails, eye color, nose, boobs, and God only knows what else.
 

What the hell was the mayor thinking?

“How unfortunate,” she said and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t shop with trash, so if you’ll just be on your way, then I can handle my business.”

I didn’t bother moving from my stool. I was afraid if I stood up, I’d hit her. “You’ve got some nerve swinging that trash label around, Wife Number Two.”

Her face flushed red and she glared. “I asked you politely to leave. Now, I’m telling you. Get out of here or I’ll call the police.”

“That’s enough, Vanessa,” Walter said. “Last time I checked, this was my store.”

She whipped around to glare at Walter. “That’s Mrs. Fontleroy to you.”

“No, it’s not. That idiot Herbert divorced
Mrs.
Fontleroy. You are something else entirely. I’d go with Vanessa if I were you. It’s the politest name I have to offer.”

Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath. “Wait until I talk to Herbert about this. Poor Celia mourning her daughter and you’re sitting here serving Pansy’s killer cake. It’s almost as if you’re celebrating.”

“If Carter knew who the killer was, he would arrest them,” Walter said.

She gave them a smug smile. “Oh, he’ll arrest her all right. I’m going to see to that.”
 

She whirled around and stalked out of the store, slamming the front door as she went.
 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said. “There’s no use making trouble for yourself on my account.”

“Who said it was on your account? Hell, if I was interested in being bossed around by a woman, Ida Belle would be carting my manhood around in her purse.”

I grinned. Walter may be love-struck, but he still wasn’t a fool.

Scooter opened a side door and poked his head into the store. “Miss Morrow?”

“Please, call me Fortune.”

He gave me a shy smile. “I’ve got your Jeep ready to go.”
 

I glanced at my watch. “That was fast. I’m impressed.”

The tips of Scooter’s ears turned red and he looked down at the floor. “I’ll drive it around front for you. You can check out with Walter.”

“He’s handy with a tool set….” Walter looked at me and raised his eyebrows.

“Still not interested.”

He shrugged and added the charges to my store tab. “Never hurts to ask, although I’d already figured you for the picky sort.”

“Then I guess I’m destined to spend all my time in Sinful as a single girl.”

He rubbed his chin and studied me for a moment. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“You just said I was picky.”

“Yep. But I figure there might be two men in Sinful who could handle a woman like you. One is myself, of course, but that would have been about thirty years ago. But my nephew—he’s just the sort of man you need.”

“Carter?” I shook my head. “Oh no. He’s way too rigid, and besides, it would probably look bad if he dated his murder suspects.”

Walter sighed. “Well, there is that. But boy it would be a sight—you two hooking up. I guarantee it would be the first time in that boy’s life he couldn’t make something go his way, but it sure would be fun watching him try.”

“I’m genuinely sorry to disappoint you.”

“Ha. You aren’t sorry in the least.” He rose from his stool and gestured at the front door. “Come on. I’ll escort you to your vehicle so the locals don’t accost you as you’re leaving.”

I hopped off my stool and headed to the front of the store, the conversation with Vanessa Fontleroy still rolling through my mind. As soon as I got in the Jeep, I would call Gertie and tell her I needed an emergency meeting. Pansy’s missing cell phone held the answers to everything.

And I was determined to find it.

Chapter Fourteen

I clenched my cell phone and looked across the table at Marie, Gertie, and Ida Belle. Marie looked anxious. Gertie looked excited. Ida Belle looked like she was prepared for battle. I figured my own expression was a mixture of the three. We’d all sneaked over to Marie’s house where we’d have a clear view of Celia’s.
 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked Ally, who was sitting in her car a block away. “I don’t want you to take the risk unless you’re absolutely sure.”

“You’ve already asked me a hundred times,” Ally said, “and my answer isn’t going to change, even if you ask a hundred more.”

“Okay, okay. I’m just a little nervous about this. Promise me that you won’t push the issue. If Celia won’t let you help with things or you can’t access Pansy’s room without getting caught, then don’t attempt it. We’ll figure out another way.”

“I promise,” she said, starting to sound a little exasperated.

“If you get a chance to go in the kitchen, try to see if anything is amiss. I mean…” I trailed off, not wanting to blurt out that she should look for bloodstains on the flooring.

“I understand,” she said, her voice grim.

“We’re ready over here. I’m going to put my phone on speaker and mute, so we’ll be able to hear you but no one can hear us. Remember to put the phone in your shirt pocket or we probably won’t be able to hear much.”

“Got it. The window in Pansy’s closet faces Marie’s house. I’ll signal when I’m in, so be watching.”

I took a deep breath and blew it out. “All right. You’re up.”

We all peeked out the window and watched as Ally pulled up the street and parked in front of Celia’s house. She reached into the backseat of her car for a casserole dish and headed up the sidewalk to Celia’s front door. She rang the doorbell and a couple of seconds later, the door flew open.

“What do you want?” Celia’s voice boomed over the cell phone.

“Hello, Aunt Celia,” Ally said. “I brought you a chicken casserole—your favorite. Today is my day off work so I came over to help.”

“My only child is dead. What can you do to help?”

“I’m so sorry, Aunt Celia. I know anything I do doesn’t amount to much, but as a Christian and my momma’s daughter, I can’t in good conscience sit in my house all day when I know you’re here suffering.”

For several seconds, the cell phone was silent and I was certain we were all holding our breath.
 

Finally, Celia sighed. “I know we don’t always agree on things, Ally, but your momma raised you right. God knows, you didn’t get any of your manners from my brother, God rest his soul. Come in, then.”

“Yes!” I yelled and gave Ida Belle a high five.
 

“She’s good,” Marie said.

Gertie nodded. “Playing the Christian card always works with Celia. She’s the worst hypocrite in Sinful but can’t stand the thought of being exposed as such.”

Ida Belle rolled her eyes. “Like it’s a secret.”

“Sssh,” I said. “They’re talking again.”

“I meant it when I said I don’t know what you can do,” Celia said. “Between the GWs and your casserole, I have enough to eat for a week.”

“I thought maybe I could do some housecleaning. Or perhaps help you pick out an outfit…I didn’t know if you’d be able, that is…”

“I started going through her luggage this morning, but I didn’t find anything suitable. I was going to look in her closet at some of the clothes she left behind when she moved. I thought maybe one of her old church dresses would be nice. Maybe something in pink.”