Hurricane Force (A Miss Fortune Mystery Book 7) (17 page)

“True,” Ida Belle said, “but this is a simple question. We’re not asking for background checks or airboats.”

“I know, but it still makes me nervous,” I said. “The Heberts have seen me in action enough times to question my background story. If they get too curious, they could blow my cover without even meaning to.”

Ida Belle frowned. “You’re probably right. If you’re constantly poking your nose into every crime connected with Sinful, then they might start to wonder why. When it’s personal, you have an excuse, but Max wasn’t anyone to you. He wasn’t much of anyone to anyone, to be quite honest.”

“So we put the Heberts as plan B,” I said, “but the first thing we need to do is see if we can connect Randal to anyone in Sinful.”

“I can help with that,” Gertie said and pulled my laptop over in front of her.

“You can help?” Ida Belle said. “Just like that?”

Gertie nodded and started typing. “If the connection is related to Randal, then yes. If it’s strictly a business thing, then no.”

I leaned over to check the screen. “Ancestry.com?”

“I started researching my family tree,” Gertie said, looking excited. “I’m convinced I’m related to ancient warriors. I just have to track them down.”

I looked over at Ida Belle, who shook her head. Apparently, it was a conversation that didn’t need to happen. At least not right now. “So,” I said, “this will tell you who Randal is related to?”

“If people have linked him to family tree work. It’s like one big giant blackboard of families that anyone with a membership can access.”

“So people all over the world can contribute to one tree?” I asked. “That’s a great concept.” I wondered briefly if anyone had ever connected my mom and dad to a branch of their family tree. My parents had always contended we had no living family, but that couldn’t possibly be true, right? Everyone had a fourth cousin or crazy great-aunt somewhere. Maybe when all this was over, I’d have Gertie show me how to use the site and see if I had any living relatives. If any of them were like my mom, it might be nice to know them.

“Here we go,” Gertie said and pointed to the screen. “Someone linked an Owen Randal, born 1975, to the Piedmont family.”

“Are there any Piedmonts in Sinful?” I asked.

“Not that I know of,” Ida Belle said.

“Wait!” Gertie pointed to the screen and clapped. “Gracie Piedmont married Brody Sampson in 1985.”

“I take it you know the Sampsons?” I asked.

“Gracie and Brody live a couple blocks from here,” Ida Belle said.

“That’s not the best part,” Gertie said. “Brody and Max were best buddies.”

“Until he married Celia,” Ida Belle said. “Gracie hated Celia with a passion and forbade Brody to hang out with him when she married Max.”

“He didn’t listen, though,” Gertie said. “We used to see them fishing together near Number Two.”

“Is this Brody a shady sort?” I asked.

“Not that I know of,” Ida Belle said. “He’s the local postman. She teaches piano lessons. I’ve never heard of either of them being involved in anything questionable, but then that seems to be the theme around here lately.”

“Maybe it’s nothing,” I said, “but we should check them out. Are you guys on the outs with either of them?”

“Gracie is a member of the Baptist church,” Gertie said. “She helps out with charity events and such. She’s always been pleasant to me.”

Ida Belle nodded. “I’m not sure she’s capable of anything else. She’s one of those woman that you can only take a small dose of—too nice, if you know what I mean.”

Gertie rolled her eyes. “Only you would consider ‘nice’ a character flaw.”

“
Too
nice,” Ida Belle said. “There’s a difference.”

“Well, then I suggest we start on that block checking on people to help out,” I said. “Maybe this Gracie isn’t as nice as Ida Belle thinks she is.”

“Or maybe Brody took advantage of her connection to Randal,” Gertie said, “and is looking for a better retirement than the post office provides.”

“Only one way to find out,” I said and hopped up from the dining table. “First, we’ll get whatever you guys need from your houses, and drop off Gertie’s car. I don’t want you guys going back to your homes until we know the coast is clear.”

I hoped it was soon.

Chapter Twelve

Gracie and Brody were removing bushes from their front yard when we parked my Jeep at the curb. Gracie looked up and waved at us, wearing a big smile. Brody looked less enthusiastic. Or depending on your view, he looked appropriately enthusiastic given the job he was currently performing in the heat and humidity of July after a tropical storm.

I sized him up first.

Fiftyish. Six feet tall. Two hundred twenty pounds. Decent forearm strength. Weak legs.
 

I gave her a glance, which was all I needed.

Fiftyish. Smiles way too big. Harmless.

“We’re making the rounds,” Ida Belle said as we walked up. “Seeing who needs help clearing debris.”

“That’s so nice of you,” Gracie said. “Isn’t it, Brody?”

Brody grunted, barely looking up from his stack of tree limbs.
 

Gracie locked her gaze on me and stepped forward, a gloved hand outstretched. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Gracie Sampson. You must be Fortune. I’ve heard so much about you.”

I shook her hand. “Only good stuff, I hope.”

Gracie smiled. “I don’t listen to anything bad. Negativity hurts my ears.”

“Then you must be in pain a lot,” I said.

She laughed. “I heard you had a great sense of humor. All that beauty and a personality, too. The local girls better hide their husbands.”

I glanced over at Ida Belle, who rolled her eyes.
 

Too nice.

I totally wanted to shoot her.
 

“I think the husbands are safe,” I said. “Anyone who’d cheat on his wife is not someone I’m interested in spending time with.”

Gracie nodded. “Isn’t that the truth?”

“Well,” Gertie said, “there’s that and then there’s the part where she’s dating Carter.”

“Ohhhhhh.” Gracie’s mouth formed an O. “He’s so handsome and so mannered. His mother did a great job raising him.”

I nodded.

“So Brody,” Ida Belle said, shifting the conversation, “you must have been surprised when your old high school buddy turned up.”

“Even more surprised when he turned up dead,” Gertie said.

Ida Belle elbowed her in the ribs as Brody ran one gloved hand over the top of his head.
 

“Yeah,” he said. “I was pretty surprised all the way around. Still not sure what to think of it.”

Gracie, who’d been frowning ever since Ida Belle had dropped the Max bomb, shook her head. “I know exactly what to think of it. Max married that horrible woman and she made his life miserable. I don’t know why he wanted to come back here after he got away.”

“Maybe because it’s still where he considers home?” I suggested.

Gracie sniffed. “I’m sure there’s some truth to that. I suppose if I moved away from Sinful, no place else would ever feel the same to me, even if I lived the rest of my life there. But look what it cost him. Nothing is worth dying over, especially Celia Arceneaux.”

“You don’t think he came back because of Celia, do you?” Ida Belle asked. “Lord, I figured that ship had sailed years ago, and after how mean he was to her at the café…it sure didn’t sound like a man trying to make amends for a bad decision.”

“Heavens!” Gracie said. “I don’t think he was here to win back Celia’s heart. I’m not even convinced she has one.”

“Me either,” Gertie grumbled.
 

“Then I don’t follow,” Ida Belle said.

Gracie sighed. “He was killed in Celia’s house. There wasn’t any power and they’re about the same size. Obviously, someone thought he was Celia.”

I considered this for a moment. As far as theories went, it was a fairly interesting one and not easy to completely dismiss. I didn’t think it was correct, but it was an angle I hadn’t previously considered.
 

“But who would want to kill Celia?” I asked.

Gertie snorted. “Who wouldn’t?”

Gracie nodded and I held in a smile. For someone who claimed to avoid negativity, Gracie was a big fail when it came to Celia.
 

“I don’t know,” I said. “I mean, there’s probably plenty of people who wouldn’t shed a tear if Celia was gone, but there’s a big gap between hating someone, or even wishing them dead, and actually killing them.”

It was a mantra I’d spoken more than once and thought about all the time, especially given my profession. But civilians always seemed a bit taken aback at it. Gracie was no exception.

Her eyes widened and she stared at me for several uncomfortable seconds. “I guess I hadn’t considered it all the way through,” Gracie said.

“Of course you didn’t,” Gertie said. “You can’t fathom actually killing someone, which is a good thing.”

“That’s true,” Gracie said, “but I still think Celia had more enemies in this town than Max. He’s been gone for over twenty years. Why would someone wait all this time to settle an old score with him?”

“Maybe it’s the first opportunity they got,” Ida Belle said. “He
did
disappear.” She looked over at Brody, who’d been quiet during our entire exchange. “Did you get a chance to talk to Max when he returned?”

Brody didn’t answer for a couple of seconds, and I started to wonder if he’d even heard the question. Finally, he came out of his stupor and nodded. “Briefly.”

Gracie frowned. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“Because it wasn’t worth telling,” Brody said. “He was coming out of the café and saw me across the street. He came over to say hi but before we could get past the small talk of how many years it had been and the storm that was coming, he got a phone call and excused himself. He said he’d swing by later to catch up, but I guess he didn’t have time to make it by before the storm.”

And now he wouldn’t be making it by at all. Brody frowned and looked down at the ground.
 

“Did you ever hear from him?” Gertie asked. “I mean, after he disappeared?”

Brody nodded. “He called right after he left and told me he’d finally gotten the courage to break loose. Said he wasn’t looking back. I told him I was happy for him and to keep in touch.”

“But he didn’t?” Gertie asked.

“No. That was the last I ever heard from him,” Brody said. “Until two days ago.”

I watched his face closely as he talked. If he was lying, he was doing a good job of it. His voice and expression seemed slightly sad and a little troubled.
 

“It’s a shame Celia came between you two,” Gertie said. “If Max had never married her, he might have had an entirely different life. And a longer one.”

Brody nodded. “Different perhaps, but probably not much better. Max was always looking for the cool ride and everything that went with it. I think the only thing that would have made him truly happy was having an art career.”

I seriously doubted it. After all, it appeared Max had indeed had an art career, and a fairly successful one. But it was also probably what got him killed.
 

“Anyway,” Brody said, “I best get back to it.”

“Would you like some help?” Gertie asked.

I mentally shouted “Please say no” over and over again.
 

Gracie shook her head. “We’ve only got the front yard left to do. Someone else could probably use your help more. We didn’t get much damage. We were lucky.” She smiled. “But it was so nice of you to stop by and volunteer. And it was nice to meet you,” she said to me.

“It was nice to meet you too,” I said and turned to walk away before she could launch into happy land again.
 

We hopped into my Jeep and pulled away. “Wow,” I said. “You weren’t kidding with the nice thing. Until she went all
Exorcist
over Celia I was certain she was a Stepford Wife.”

“Excellent movie references,” Gertie said. “And very accurate choices.”

I glanced in my rearview mirror. “Looks like they’ve shifted from horror to drama.”

Gracie’s big smile was completely gone and her face was contorted in obvious anger. She was shaking her finger at Brody, who managed to look both aggravated and resigned at the same time.
 

“I wonder what that’s about?” I asked.

“My guess is that Gracie didn’t know about Max’s phone call to Brody when he disappeared,” Ida Belle said.

“What difference does that make?” I asked.

“It doesn’t make a difference,” Gertie said. “It’s just something Brody had that he didn’t share with Gracie. She thinks everyone should be an open book, especially when they’re married.”

“No one is an open book,” I said, “and until we can read minds, no one will be.”
 

I meant what I said. I didn’t think it was reasonable to think that someone should share their every thought with you, even if you were in a relationship. But the whole scene had struck a nerve. The things I was keeping from Carter were so much bigger than a two-minute conversation with a friend twenty years ago. In reality, almost everything Carter knew about me was a lie, even my appearance.