Swamp Team 3 (17 page)

“Given that I’ve just gotten in an hour’s worth of aerobics,” I said, “I think I deserve it.”

Ally grinned and headed off to the kitchen, returning a couple minutes later with a plate of cookies and a beer. I shoved an entire cookie in my mouth and sighed from the awesomeness. “Where are the trouble twins?” I mumbled while still chewing.

“The candles weren’t making a dent in the burned chicken smell, so they opened the garage to air it out, and they’re hiding the motorcycle in your back hedges.”

“Not the ones right along the back of the house?”

Ally shook her head. “I told them not to. Our luck, Carter would decide he wanted to investigate the creeper while he’s here, and find the motorcycle. Then the whole gig would be up.”

“The whole gig is up, anyway. He’ll know it was us. Two of us, anyway.”

Ally grinned. “Or one of you wearing a snowsuit covered in feathers.”

I laughed. “By the time Farmer Frank’s wife saw us, we probably looked like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man with wings. When I think about how she saw it and then what she said to Myrtle, it’s funny. But don’t you dare tell Ida Belle and Gertie I said so.”

“No way. We can have a chuckle about it now, but the bottom line is that you both could have been killed.”

“Yeah. That Floyd is a real hothead. I can’t believe he made such a big deal over that rickety fence of his. A good wind would have taken it out.”

“A good wind already has. He keeps propping it back up.”

“Then what’s his major malfunction?”

“I don’t think he likes women much.”

“The bartender at Swamp Bar said he likes to slap them around.”

“Really?” Ally asked. “That doesn’t sound like the kind of information a bartender would volunteer about one of his regulars.”

“I told him I was looking for Floyd, but I don’t think I fit the profile for Floyd’s usual woman. I passed it off as looking up an old acquaintance of my brother’s while I was in town. I guess since I played it as not really knowing him well, the bartender felt obligated to give me a warning.”

Ally frowned. “Maybe I’ve been lucky, living right next to him and nothing happening.”

I nodded. “It kinda sounds like it, but if it makes a difference, he probably isn’t the arsonist.”

Ida Belle and Gertie walked into the living room from the kitchen. “Why do you say that?” Ida Belle asked.

“Some idiot at the bar—” I started.

“There she goes,” Gertie said, “calling the good people of Sinful idiots again.”

I could tell she was being facetious, so I ignored her. “Called Buckshot Billy,” I continued.

“Definitely an idiot,” Gertie said.

“He told me Floyd wasn’t at the bar the night of the fire because he was in lockup in New Orleans.”

Ida Belle and Gertie looked at each other, then back at me.

“Certainly a possibility,” Ida Belle said. “I’ll have Myrtle call New Orleans and verify.”

“She can do that?” I asked.

Ida Belle nodded. “She gives them some ID number and they’ll assume she’s checking because of an investigation. I’ll give her a call.”
 

Ida Belle pulled out her cell phone, but before she could dial, someone pounded on my front door. She shoved the phone back in her sweatpants and hurried off to the kitchen. Gertie dashed across the room and pressed Play on my DVD player.

Ida Belle returned a couple seconds later and put chips and dip on the coffee table. “We’ve been watching a movie.” She flopped down in the recliner and motioned for me to get the door.

Chapter Twelve

It wasn’t the most creative cover in the world, but at least it was one that couldn’t be disproven. I jumped off the couch and swung open the front door. Carter stood on the front porch, his I-know-you’ve-been-up-to-something scowl already in place.

“Hi,” I said, forcing a smile. “What’s up?”

He glanced inside and frowned.

“Make it rain!” Gertie stood in the middle of the living room floor, clutching a fistful of dollar bills. Every couple of seconds, she’d pull some bills from the stack and toss them at the television. Ida Belle stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. Ally was doubled over on the couch, tears streaming down her face.

“What the hell is going on here?” Carter asked.

“Movie night?” I answered, not nearly as confident of that fact as I had been thirty seconds before.
 

I stepped back around the entry wall into the living room, Carter right behind me, and took a look at the television. Half-naked men danced on a stage, crazed women screaming at them and clutching their chests.
 

Gertie cheered like the women in the movie and tossed more bills at the television set. “I told you this
Magic Mike
movie was the best thing ever.”

Carter’s scowl disappeared and his expression shifted to slightly horrified. Probably because straight men weren’t overly excited to see another man dancing around with his stuff in a G-string, even if it was on television.

“We agreed to indulge her,” I said. “Did you need to talk to Ally? I think I can revive her.” Ally now hung half off the couch, laughing so hard her entire body shook.

“You’ve been here all evening?”

“I have, but it’s my house. Ally met with the insurance people for a while, and Ida Belle and Gertie showed up about an hour ago with snacks and Gertie’s version of girls’ night porn. Why?”

“Dispatch got a call from Farmer Frank’s wife. Someone ran a motorcycle through her chicken coop.”

“I don’t own a motorcycle.”

“Lack of legal possession hasn’t been a deterrent for you in the past.”

I felt my back stiffen, somewhat insulted by his accusation and his tone. “I see. So if something weird happens in this town, and it involves anything remotely illegal, then it must have been me. Remind me why you asked me on a date again? Clearly your opinion of me doesn’t match the standards of the badge you carry.”

He had the decency to look embarrassed. “It’s not about you, necessarily. It’s about the company you keep.”

Because he had a point, I decided to let his comment slide. “Well, I’ll admit that I wouldn’t mind if you arrested Gertie for both her behavior and her awful choice in movies, but that’s the only thing even remotely inappropriate that has gone on here tonight.”

Which was technically true, because dressing like a hooker was stupid but not necessarily inappropriate and everything questionable or illegal had taken place somewhere else. Well, technically, hiding the motorcycle in my bushes might count as questionable, but I wasn’t about to admit it.

He glanced at the television again and flinched, then shuffled, clearly uncomfortable. “I guess I’ll be going then.”

I followed him to the front door and watched as he stepped outside, then turned around. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, your garage door is open.”

“Thanks. I must have forgotten it.”

He started down the steps, then paused and sniffed the air. “Smells like someone’s burning trash again.” He shook his head and headed across the lawn to his truck. I waited until he’d driven off, then ran outside to close the garage door. It was a good thing he hadn’t gotten any closer to it or he would have realized it was the source of the smell—sort of a cross between burned chicken, vanilla, and Febreze.

I hurried back inside, closing and locking the door behind me, then headed into the living room and flopped back down on the couch. My living room floor was still littered with dollar bills, but the television was off and Gertie had taken a seat and was plowing through the chips and dip.
 

“That went well,” I said.

The others looked at me for a couple of seconds, then glanced at each other.
 

“What?” I finally asked when no one replied.

Ally gave me a sheepish look. “I’m sorry he was so rude to you. That must have hurt your feelings.”

I scanned their faces. “Is that what this is about? Good Lord, do you people know me at all? He pissed me off all right, but I assure you, not a single feeling was injured in the exchange.”

But even as I said the words, I knew they weren’t entirely true. Sure, I’d been mad, but there was more to it than that. I had felt a pinch when I’d thought his opinion of me had diminished. Granted, I should have been happy if it had. The bigger the risk Carter thought I presented to his reputation and his job stability, the less likely he’d be to ask me out again. Then I wouldn’t have to tell him “no” when I really meant “yes.”
 

“If you say so,” Ally said, “but I still think he was harsh.”

“He’s a man,” Gertie said. “And a young one at that. He’ll put his foot in his mouth a lot more times before he departs this earth.”

Ida Belle nodded. “Seems almost a requirement, really. With everything that’s happened the past couple of weeks and now the arson situation, he’s stressed. Everyone knows Sheriff Lee is decades past when he should have retired, and they’re all watching every move Carter makes so when the vote comes up, they know where they stand.”

I sighed. “And we’re not making it any easier on him, are we?”

“No,” Ally said. “You’re not and that’s why this has to stop. Given the way you returned tonight, I knew something had happened.” She looked at Ida Belle. “Fortune told me Floyd tried to kill you. Is that true?”

“He was chasing us,” Ida Belle said. “I can’t swear he was trying to kill us.”

Ally shook her head. “So he was chasing a motorcycle in a huge, fast pickup truck, on a narrow road. And just how close did he get to you?”

“I was too busy driving to look,” Ida Belle said.

I shook my head. “Your rearview mirrors were so full of headlights that you couldn’t see in them. I’m not going to lie about Floyd’s clear intentions when Ally lives next door to him. Even if he’s not our arsonist, he’s clearly unhinged, and Ally needs to know by just how much.”

Ida Belle sighed. “You’re right. I just don’t want her worrying about us, but she needs to know that Floyd is more of a loose cannon than we originally thought, even if he’s not the arsonist. Let me give Myrtle a call and see if he was in the tank in New Orleans the night of the fire. That will answer one question, at least.”

She pulled out her cell phone and made the call. “Myrtle’s checking now.”

I nodded and lifted a slat on the blinds behind my couch to peer out into the darkness. If Floyd wasn’t the arsonist, then that meant someone else in Sinful had an ulterior motive or was as unhinged as Floyd was. And where did the creeper fit into all of this? Floyd had seemed such a simple answer for everything, but I had a feeling things were much more complicated than I wanted them to be.

Ida Belle’s cell phone rang and she answered, taking only a couple of seconds before disconnecting. “It’s confirmed. Floyd was in the clink in New Orleans until eight the next morning. He’s not our arsonist.”

Ally rose from the couch. “Look, I appreciate everything you guys have done, but you have to stop. None of you are qualified to tangle with criminals. All Fortune did was invite me to stay in her house a few days, and she’s already got a creeper lurking around. Tonight, the two of you could have been run down by Floyd or shot by Farmer Frank.”

“But we weren’t,” Ida Belle said.

Ally threw her arms in the air. “You’re a librarian and two long-retired average citizens. When are you going to realize that the only reason you’re still sitting here is because you’ve been really lucky? Do you think I want your deaths on my conscience? I’m asking you as friends to please stop and let Carter do his job.”

I glanced at Ida Belle and Gertie, who shuffled uncomfortably in their chairs.

“Fortune?” Ally prompted.

“Fine. I promise not to put myself at risk again, but I’m still going to watch everyone closely and listen.”

Ida Belle shook her head. “Gertie and I will do our best to stay out of trouble, but I can’t promise you that it will happen. We were poking our nose into Sinful business long before Fortune arrived—actually, before you were even born. It’s like asking us not to breathe.”

Ally sighed. “If that’s the best I can get, then it will have to do.” She looked at me. “The insurance adjuster said they’re sending a crew to secure the kitchen wall tomorrow morning. He thinks I should be able to move back into the house by tomorrow evening.”

“I think you should stay here,” I said, “at least until Carter knows more.”

“If I stay here, it keeps you in the middle of this mess and on the outs with Carter. I don’t want that on my conscience either.” She yawned. “It’s been a long day and I haven’t been sleeping very well. I’m going to go to bed. Try not to cause any trouble while I’m sleeping.”

I watched as Ally trudged upstairs, then motioned to Ida Belle and Gertie. “Recon in the kitchen,” I whispered. “Voices in the living room carry upstairs.”

We headed into the kitchen and took up our usual seats at the table. “So what do you guys think?” I asked.

“Did you find out anything else at the bar?” Ida Belle asked.

“Nothing that seems to matter. There was some weird dude in the bar who Billy said was also looking for Floyd, but that could be anything or nothing.” I gave them a description of the guy, but it didn’t ring any bells with them.