miss fortune mystery (ff) - bubba dub dub (12 page)

Rouse opened his mouth and sent a stream of spittle into the grass at his feet. “Oh I was, Ms. Redding. I was looking for him so I could get that suitcase. But I have a feeling Miss Chance knows where it is.”

I frowned. “Why would you think that?”

“Because it’s obvious you’ve been looking for it. And I just passed your cohorts in crime speeding back to Sinful in that hog tied Cadillac of theirs. They looked like women on a mission.” He cocked his head. “And I was told you were in Mudbug, yet here you are. There’s only one reason you’d lie to me, Miss Chance.”

I decided it was time for a good bluff. “You’re right,” I told him. “I lied because I can’t stand you. You drive me crazy. And the last thing I wanted today is to stand here with a gun pointed at me and listen to you rant and rave about stupid stuff.” I turned to Fortune. “Come on, Fortune. I hear the boat coming.”

Fortune shifted her weight and I heard the distinctive sound of a bullet being chambered. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

I glanced over at Fortune and saw the gun in her hand. She wasn’t moving, her deadly gaze locked on Rouse. “If you shoot her I’ll shoot you,” she told Rouse.

I jerked my gaze toward the cop and saw the muzzle of his long, black gun pointed right at me, center mass as they always say on the cop shows. I squeaked softly in alarm.

“Drop the gun, Miss Redding.”

“You won’t sho—“

Rouse jerked his hand and the dirt an inch from my feet geysered up. Tiny little rocks sliced into my calf and I screamed, short and sharp with pure fear.

Fortune slowly lowered her gun, dropping it to the ground and kicking it to Rouse.

He picked it up, his eye on us the entire time. “Good move. Now let’s go meet your friends. I think we have a suitcase to pick up.”

###

The poop-scented aroma of Number Two wasn’t getting any easier to take with each successive visit there. Having a crazy man holding a gun on us as we sped across the lake toward the island stunk pretty badly too.

All I could think about was whether Rouse had been following us when we went to see my dad. Unfortunately, with my lips flapping around my ears and my eyes glued shut by bug-infested wind, I wasn’t in a very good position to question him at the moment. One thing I
was
pretty sure of was that Rouse must have been the one to shoot at my dad in the safe house. That explained the swollen bump on his forehead too. I was glad for that bump. At least my father got his licks in before he took off.

Despite the face-altering speed which Ida Belle used to get us to Number Two, she didn’t pull anything funny on the way. Having a gun jammed into her ribs was apparently enough of a motivation not to get cute.

When Rouse had first forced us onto the airboat with Gertie and Ida Belle, I’d had hopes that she would be able to ditch him along the way. After all, she’d nearly ditched Gertie and me several times on the previous outing. And she hadn’t even been trying then.

“Don’t pull in there,” Rouse shouted over the engine and the wind. “Pull around to the other side of the island.”

I managed to crank my eyes open just enough to look at Ida Belle. She was frowning…which could have been a reaction to Rouse’s instruction, or just a continuation of her usual expression.

“The water’s too shallow there and the knees will catch us up.”

“Just do it!” Rouse responded.

Ida Belle slowed the boat way down as we rounded Number Two and looked around for a spot where she could squeeze the boat through the knobby projections.

“Over there,” Fortune pointed to a spot farther down the shoreline.

Ida Belle grimaced. “I’m not sure if it’s deep enough.” She shared a look with Fortune and the younger woman gave an almost indiscernible nod.

I grasped Gertie’s hand and widened my eyes. She squeezed tight to let me know she’d gotten the message. We braced ourselves against the bottom of the boat.

Ida Belle steered the air boat carefully through a new crop of knees and then, when we’d cleared them and the shoreline opened up, suddenly jammed the throttle forward and the boat shot headlong toward land.

It hit land hard and jolted to a stop. Rouse flew forward, arms akimbo, and Fortune jabbed her leg out to send him sprawling. Gertie and I got up and started kicking him, trying to send him off the side of the boat. Unfortunately, he’d managed to wrap an arm around the seat frame and wasn’t going anywhere. His hand came up, still holding the gun. “Nice try, ladies. Now get back or I’ll happily shoot all of you.”

“You won’t get very far finding that money if you do,” Fortune told him.

He eyed me. “I only need one of you to find that suitcase.”

I swallowed hard. The message was clear. If I didn’t cooperate my friends would die. “I’ll show you where it is Rouse. Nobody needs to get hurt.”

He jerked his head toward the island. “Start walking.”

Forty-five minutes later I still hadn’t found the tub my father had told us hid his insurance bounty. There was all sorts of detritus on the island. We’d even found the still we’d been looking for earlier. It was obscured by a clever mash of cardboard and moss, making it look like an abandoned campsite.

But no tub.

Rouse slapped at a mosquito, grimacing at the splotch of fresh blood on his hand. “I’m starting to think you’re playin’ with me, Felicity.” He pointed the gun at Gertie, whose cheeks were red from the effort of trudging around the island. “Should I start with this one? She looks half dead already.”

I jumped in front of Gertie. “No! Leave her alone. I’ll find the suitcase. Just give me time.”

“I’m about out of patience, girl. You have fifteen minutes and then I start taking out annoying women.”

I swiped a hand over my sweaty brow, panic swirling in my gut. I wasn’t going to be able to do what Rouse wanted me to do. In my two visits to the island, I’d never seen a bathtub. Bathtubs weren’t exactly small. Was it even possible that I hadn’t seen it already? I shoved aside the niggling thought that my father might have lied to me. It wouldn’t be the first time if he had.

That thought made me nauseous as well as panicked.

I was a mess.

Fortune moved up beside me, bumping my arm with hers. “Felicity, do you remember when we were here the other day, looking for that still?”

I frowned, nodding. Pressing a hand to my stomach I worked on keeping from puking. “Yeah.”

“We were over by Bubba’s campsite, remember?” She lifted her brows as if she were trying to tell me something. The only problem was, I had no idea what it was. Then, my mind suddenly cleared and, incredibly, I remembered. “The thing I tripped over.”

“Yeah.”

I touched her arm, panic receding a little. “What direction is that from here? I’m all turned around.”

Ida Belle pointed to our right. “Over that way.”

I eyed her with new respect. “How do you know that? We’ve been walking in circles for almost an hour.”

“During the war I trudged around the jungles of Vietnam for six months. I’ve gotten pretty good at figuring out what direction I’m going.”

“I could kiss you,” I told her, smiling.

“Save that for after we find the suitcase.” Ida Belle rolled her eyes meaningfully toward Rouse, who’d stopped a few feet behind us and was slapping at bugs, his wide face shiny with sweat and covered in bug parts. We watched him for a moment, hoping he’d accidently knock himself out with the gun slapping at bugs. No such luck. He finally caught us staring and jerked the gun. “Get movin’ or I start shootin’.”

“Jerk,” Gertie murmured as we started off again.

“I heard that,” Rouse responded, then he slammed his gun hand into his chin and grunted as his head snapped back.

Unfortunately he didn’t knock himself out.

The bathtub was nearly covered over in vegetation. I realized as we finally saw the curved, pitted legs sticking up from the weeds that we could have walked past it a few times without seeing it.

I pointed to it as Rouse caught up to us. “It’s under there.”

He eyed the nearly concealed tub. “Well, turn it over.”

Exhaling wearily, I walked over and grasped a leg, shoving against it as hard as I could. It didn’t budge.

“Here, let me help,” Fortune offered. She grabbed a second leg and shoved with me. It lifted a fraction of an inch and then slammed back down again. The thing had to weigh a thousand pounds.

“Come on, ladies, I’m ready to get off this god-forsaken island.” Rouse looked like he was at the end of his rope. His cotton shirt was black with sweat and clung to his beer belly. His thin ponytail was askew and painted with moss. The bug debris on his sweaty neck and face had reached alarming proportions and his face was so red I wondered if he was having a heart attack.

Gertie and Ida Belle came over to help.

“You two grab the legs and shove while Fortune and I try to lift the lip.” We all got into position. “On three. One…two…three!” With our combined strength, we finally got the tub halfway up before we started to lose it again. With a united shriek, we all jumped back as the massive iron thing slammed back into place, but not before Rouse spotted the treasure at the end of the rainbow.

“It’s under there,” he said excitedly. “I saw it.”

“I’m glad to hear zat,” said a voice in heavily accented Russian. I gasped in surprise and stepped backward.

The second Russian mobster stood under a nearby Cypress tree, looking cool and comfortable in the shade. He had one of those military type rifles in his hands and a smile on his face. He jerked the rifle at Rouse. “Drop ze gun and kick it zis vay.” Scowling murderously, Rouse did as he was told. The Russian smiled meanly. “Now vy don’t you get in zare and help za ladies, Detectif. It’s just not right zat zey haf to do it all zemselves.”

Rouse reached down and grasped the edge of the tub. He lifted it halfway and then, face purple and eyes bulging, nearly dropped it. We jumped in and shoved the top, finally giving it the impetus it needed to slam over onto its legs.

Rouse eyed the suitcase with obvious lust, licking his thick lips.

“Nyet, nyet, Detective.” He glanced at me. “Miz Chanz, vould you be zo kind az to hand me zat suitcase, please?”

I picked up the suitcase and walked closer but didn’t hand it to him. “You have your suitcase now. You need to let us go.”

The man laughed. It wasn’t a nice sound. “I’m zo zorry, Miz Chanz. I can’t do zat.”

An extra-large shadow separated itself from the cypress at the Russian’s back. Mannie placed the muzzle of his big gun against the mobster’s temple. “I’m afraid I can’t let you hurt these ladies, pal. They’re under Mr. Hebert’s protection.”

The Russian’s pale gaze narrowed, his jaw tightening. The rifle lowered just enough to make Rouse feel better. He lunged toward me, grabbing the suitcase and shoving me to the ground.

My three friends joined me on the ground as bullets started to fly. They pinged off the trees, the tub, and a couple whizzed over my head as I cringed among the weeds, my hands over my head.

There was a shout and a clang, then the meaty sound of fists hitting flesh and another clang. A final punch ended on a wet sound and a clang. Then silence.

Heavy breathing was all that was left. “You can come out now, ladies.”

I stuck my head up to find Mannie sitting on the edge of the tub, the suitcase in his big hand. A couple sets of legs and arms stuck out of the tub behind him. He was mopping his brow with his silk tie. I couldn’t believe he’d worn a suit to a gun fight. One by one, we all sat up, blinking.

“Is it over?” Gertie asked.

Eyeing the tub, I realized Mannie had jammed Rouse and the Russian into it. One hand twitched as I was looking and I opened my mouth to tell Mannie.

Rouse’s big fist came up and grabbed hold of Mannie’s tie, yanking him into the tub. Mannie hauled back with the suitcase and smashed it down on Rouse’s head. The cop went limp.

Behind us, the moss separated and Big and Little Hebert strolled out. Big scowled at Mannie. “Quit screwin’ around, Mannie. Get out of that tub and bring me the suitcase.”

I sighed, realizing I’d completely lost control. My simple task had gone horribly wrong and the Heberts would be forced to give up my dad to keep the Russians from starting a war. Even as I opened my mouth, I knew it would be useless.

But I had to try. “Mr. Hebert, sir, you had an agreement with my father, right?”

Big Hebert eyed me for a long moment and then reached out and took the suitcase his man handed him. Finally he inclined his head. “I’m a man of my word, Miss Chance. I’ll take care of this just as your father and I agreed.”

I wanted to believe him, but I didn’t know if I could. My head was spinning from all the agendas we’d gotten ourselves embroiled in. Still, I figured all I could do at that point was give him the benefit of the doubt. “Thank you, sir.”

He nodded. “Come on, Mannie. We need to make ourselves scarce. Carter will be here soon to arrest those two.” He lifted the suitcase toward the thug-filled tub. “I’ll be in touch, ladies.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

It turned out Big Hebert
was
a man of his word. He called us to his office the following day and sat us down to explain how things had gone down. Big had contacted Nicholai Ruchoff to report that his men had gotten themselves into a little trouble and were in the local jail. Big further explained that he’d gotten his hands on a certain suitcase full of evidence that he’d be happy to turn over to Nicholai’s men when they got out of jail. He denied any knowledge of the cash that had been in the suitcase, telling Nicholai that it must have already been spent by my father and that, in the name of businessmen everywhere, Big had felt obliged to dispose of the traitor who’d stolen the goods from the Russians in the first place.

By all accounts, Nicholai was ecstatic to be getting his evidence back.

Big got his cash and, unbeknownst to Nicholai, his own copy of the evidence in the suitcase…just in case. Nicholai got the proof of his dirty dealings back. And my father was safely ensconced in his weird monastery, hopefully for a while. Though I had my doubts on that score.