The Miss Fortune Series: Overdue (Kindle Worlds Novella) (6 page)

“Glad I could take the burden off you,” I said.

“Shame what happened at the library yesterday.”

I nodded. “You didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, did you?”

She shook her head. “I was just in there for a few minutes looking for a book. I wish I had seen something so I could have stopped whoever did it.” She sighed. “Well, I’d better get back to work.”

She started to go back to the house, but stopped and turned toward me. “That Janice really hovers around her mother, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s a bit high strung.”

“That’s putting it mildly. I was surprised she let you talk to Lila Rose. I haven’t been able to barely say hello to her without Janice getting in between us.” She shrugged. “Oh, well, I’ve heard Lila Rose is a little unhinged.”

She stared at me, waiting for a response.

“We actually had a pleasant conversation,” I said.

“Huh, well that’s nice to know. Like I said, we haven’t spoken, and I don’t plan on it. I have a couple more weeks in the house and I certainly don’t want to upset Janice.”

I left the house with an unsettled feeling. Janice knew her way around a needle. And she definitely wanted to limit outside contact with her mother. And she had a clear economic motive to do away with her cousin, Waddell. Although Waddell had stopped asking Lila Rose for money, he could again in the future. Maybe Janice figured she’d prevent any further drain on her inheritance.

Lila Rose had said Janice wasn’t capable of murder. But there was just something about Janice that left me wondering just how well Lila Rose knew her own daughter.

I shared what I’d learned with Ida Belle and Gertie over a cup of coffee and slice of blackberry pie at Francine’s. We chose our favorite spot in the back. Private - no other diners around our table to overhear our planning. And we had a good view of the entrance. I always liked to know who was coming and going, something I doubt I’ll ever shake.

“Andy the mailman?” Ida Belle asked. “Is she sure that’s who Waddell was talking to?”

I sliced a forkful of pie. “That’s what she said. She wrote it all down when she got back from her dog walking.” The blackberry pie woke up my mouth. Why Ally hadn’t been snapped up by some fancy restaurant in New Orleans was beyond me.

“You realize Lila Rose is a little ‘off,’ don’t you?” Ida Belle said.

I nodded and recited what Gertie had told me. “She was one of Louisiana’s best-selling authors, but she lost her confidence after her last book was torn apart by reviewers and went a little nuts.”

“Torn apart is an understatement,” Ida Belle said. “Lila Rose put one of her main characters on life support. The reviewers hated it.”

Gertie nodded. “Up until that last installment, the
PB&J Mysteries
was one of my favorite book series.”

“She titled a book series after a sandwich?”

“No,” Ida Belle said. “It was about a crusty lady private eye, Poppy Boone, and her young protégé, Jelly.”

“Jelly was a little girl of three when she was dumped on Poppy’s porch with a note stuck to her sweater that said she liked peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.” Were Gertie’s eyes tearing up? “So Poppy took her in and called her Jelly.” She dabbed at her eyes with her napkin. “Sorry, that part of the story always got to me. Anyway, in the last book, Jelly, who’s now an adult woman, is shot by the evil Flynn Binder, who accused her of killing his brother. She winds up in the hospital, under the care of crazy Nurse Vickie—she’s one of those angel-of-death kinda nurses. She injects poor Jelly with something to end her suffering.”

“So then the reviewers tore Lila Rose apart and she went crazy?”

Ida Belle nodded. “Apparently her publishing company was going through some kind of management change and the new gal in charge wanted to replace Jelly, who was kind of a tomboy, with a dumb blonde sexpot character. Lila Rose was under contract for one more book, so she had to go along with it. But her fans loved Jelly, and were furious she would kill her off. Her other book series still remain popular, but Lila Rose is no longer the darling of Louisiana. In fact, I heard she doesn’t even read books by Louisiana authors anymore because she can’t stand it that she’s not on top.”

Gertie sliced off a sliver of pie. “According to my hairdresser, who’s also Lila Rose’s hairdresser, she felt so guilty killing Jelly that she vowed never to write again.”

“Except she does,” I said.

The looks on their faces told me this came as a surprise.

“Who told you that?” Ida Belle asked.

“She did. When we were having tea. She said she writes every day, but refuses to publish any of it. Her own daughter can’t even read it. They just sit in file drawers.”

Gertie shook her head. “She’s crazier than I thought.”

“Look, aside from a little confusion from some medication to calm her nerves, she seemed pretty sane to me. Her notes made your snooping seem amateurish.”

Ida Belle winced. “But can you trust her observations?”

“I’ll tell you who I don’t trust,” I said after swallowing a bite of pie. “Her daughter, Janice. I could tell she didn’t want Lila Rose talking to me. Even their contractor got a weird vibe about her. And Lila Rose mentioned that her daughter didn’t like it that she gave Waddell money, or that she doesn’t publish her work anymore.”

“Well, sure, Janice is probably watching her inheritance whittle away.”

“And get this, her daughter is pretty proficient with a needle. She gives the dog injections of tranquilizers. And with all the research Lila Rose has done on murder for her books, I wouldn’t be surprised if Janice has read some of it.”

“So Janice can be a suspect as well,” Gertie said.

I nodded. “I don’t think there’s going to be a lack of suspects in this case. That
Pancake Junction
writer confirmed what you’ve heard, that Waddell had a gambling problem, and a nasty habit of chasing after married women. However, Lila Rose said that he hadn’t hit her up for gambling money in about a year.” I took a sip of coffee.

Ida Belle nodded. “So maybe he found another source of funding.”

“I can buy anyone as a suspect except Andy,” Gertie said. “It just seems impossible. Andy’s been delivering mail in Sinful for three years. He doesn’t seem capable of murder.”

“So maybe he has a side to him no one knows about,” I said. “Lila Rose’s notes indicated that he was going to meet some mystery woman at their usual place.”

Gertie scowled. “Lila Rose sure sticks her nose in everybody’s business,” she said to Ida Belle. “At least we don’t keep dossiers of the comings and goings of our neighbors.”

“And she knows his usual hangout on a Wednesday night,” I added. “A roller rink?”

Gertie smiled. “The roller rink? Andy skates? He never mentioned that. And you’d think skating would be something he’d mention to us.”

“Lila Rose said you two would be familiar with the place.”

“Familiar with it?” Ida Belle said, her mouth now turning upward into a smile. “The Mudbug Skate World. About three miles east of downtown Mudbug. We ruled that place at one time.”

Not surprising as they ruled Sinful since the Sixties.

“You two skated?”

“Skated?” Gertie fiddled with her phone then held it out for me. It was her Facebook page. “This was my Throwback Thursday photo a few weeks ago.”

I took the phone and gazed at the photo. About a dozen women on skates were wearing black tights, knee and elbow pads and helmets, with
Sinful Sliders
emblazoned across their red shirts and lightning bolts extending down the sleeves. I could tell instantly which women were Ida Belle and Gertie. They looked to be in their thirties. Ida Belle was wearing the helmet that read, “Captain.” Gertie was hamming it up for the photo, holding another woman in a headlock, a woman I recognized from photos in Marge’s house.

“Is the woman in the headlock Marge?”

Gertie nodded. “She was Trixie Trample. I was Duchess Danger and Ida Belle was Ida Give‘EmHell.”

“You two were on a Roller Derby team?”

“Not just any Roller Derby team,” Ida Belle said. “The Sinful Sliders were state champions seven years in a row.”

“No team since has been able to beat our record.”

I handed the phone back to Gertie.

“So you’d think Andy would have mentioned to one of us that he was going to the skating rink,” Ida Belle said.

“Unless he was meeting a woman there he shouldn’t have been. He’s married, right?”

“I agree with Gertie,” Ida Belle said. “I can’t see Andy doing this.”

“Well, supposedly he’s meeting some woman there tonight. We could go just to see if he shows up and what woman he meets. Who knows, maybe whoever he meets tonight is on the list of people at the library when Waddell died.”

Gertie clapped. “The roller rink. I haven’t been there in ten years.”

“Lila Rose didn’t have any idea who this woman was?” Ida Belle asked before eating another piece of pie.

“Um, she did mention her suspicions about a particular married woman.”

“Let’s hear it,” Gertie said.

Francine came out of the kitchen carrying a coffeepot, filling a few coffee cups at a table close to the swinging doors. Cradling a cordless phone to her ear, she tossed out a few “hmm-hmm’s” into the receiver. I flicked my head toward her.

“Francine?” Gertie asked, stunned.

Ida Belle began choking on her pie. Gertie reached over and slapped her on her back and held up a glass of water to her lips. “Drink some water.”

Ida Belle did, chugging a few swallows down. “That’s crazy,” she said. “For one thing, she’s about fifteen years older than he is. And for another, Francine’s wild about her husband.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Maybe Lila Rose just mistook her. I mean, there are several women in town that could be mistaken for Francine from a distance. But we should at least eliminate her as a suspect and ask her how well she knows Andy or Waddell.”

Francine made her way to our table and poured more coffee in our cups. She spoke into the phone, her temper showing in her voice. “I’m tired of hearing your sob story. I don’t care that your delivery guy was on a bender. I ordered the catfish and I expect it to be delivered. If I don’t have my catfish in time for my Thursday night fry, I will personally come down to your boat and get it. You don’t want that. Because catfish won’t be the only thing I’m dragging off that boat!”

Francine cursed and stormed back to the kitchen, advising the man on the other end he’d better make sure his boat was well insured.

“Maybe we could talk to her another time,” Gertie said.

*  *  *  *  *

I double-checked my surveillance gear while waiting for Gertie and Ida Belle to arrive at my house. Everything seemed in order: binoculars, camera with telephoto lens, a huge thermos of coffee and supply of sugar, creamer and paper cups. I had no idea how long we’d have to wait for Andy to show, or even if he would show, but I knew there was nothing worse than sitting in a car waiting for a target when you have no coffee or food. I was responsible for the coffee. Gertie was responsible for the food.

Merlin stared at me from his perch on the sofa back. It looked like an uncomfortable position to me, but he seemed to like it. When his ears shot up and his gaze shifted toward the door, I knew my partners in crime had arrived.

“Crack my whip!” Gertie shouted on the other side of the door before knocking.

Merlin flung himself off the sofa and shot up the stairs.

Given all the crazy getups I’d seen Gertie wearing since I met her, I shouldn’t have been surprised to see her squeezed into her old Roller Derby outfit, but I was. Her white hair stuck out from under her old helmet. Her too-tight goggles made the skin around her cheeks puff out, reminding me of a cartoon I had once seen starring a goldfish wearing glasses. Giant padding protected her skinny knees and elbows. An ancient pair of skates that had been tied together with their laces rested over one shoulder, causing her to lean to the right when she walked.

“I tried to stop her.” Ida Belle followed her in. She was also dressed to skate, though not in her old uniform, opting instead for a pair of denim capris and red shirt. “I left my pads and helmet in the car.”

“No, no.” I shook my head. “We’re not there to skate; we’re there to do some surveillance.”

“Everyone in town knows our history as Derby queens,” Gertie said. “If Andy sees us inside he won’t think anything of it. If he sees my car there and doesn’t see us inside skating? Then we’ve got problems.”

Ida Belle nodded. “Despite my disagreeing about her outfit, I have to agree with her about us skating. He’ll just think we’re there showing off our former haunt to our young friend.”

“You two just want an excuse to get back on skates.”

“We want to blend in,” Gertie said.

“In what decade?” I asked, spinning the wheels on one of her ancient skates.

“I’ll make her rent new skates at the roller rink.”

“I will not. These are my lucky skates. These skates made me a champion. I oiled them before we left. They’ll do just fine.”

Ida Belle rapped her knuckle on Gertie’s helmet. “You should have oiled your head, because clearly it’s not screwed on right.”

Gertie flipped her the bird and turned to me. “Are we going to stand here and quibble over my fashion choices or are we going to help solve a murder?”

I picked up my backpack and thermos from the coffee table. “You did bring food, didn’t you?”

“Food? Mudbug Roller World serves the best hot dogs in all Louisiana. French fries too. Nice and crispy. Not soggy. And tonight is adults-only, which means—”

“Beer!” she and Ida Belle said simultaneously.

Gertie pointed to my thermos. “So you can leave the coffee home.”

I rolled my eyes and put the coffee back on the table.

“Don’t worry,” Ida Belle said as we left my house, “we can skate and observe all at the same time.”

“Damn straight,” Gertie said, “because we’re—”

“Sinful Sliders!” Gertie and Ida Belle pumped their fists in the air. “We’re mean, we’re clean, we’re fighting machines!”

“You have some Bengay in your purse for later, don’t you?” Ida Belle asked Gertie as we neared her Caddie.

“Are you kidding? You know I never leave home without it.”

A half hour later we were pulling into a parking space of the Mudbug Roller World.

Gertie clapped. “Ida Belle, look. They still have the sign.”

A giant neon sign gave the illusion of a pink and blue skate whizzing across the sky. Another neon sign spelled out
Mudbug Roller World
. Both signs sat atop a warehouse-like structure. Though this was a weeknight, a steady stream of cars was arriving to the skating rink. If the arrival rate held steady, this lot would be packed in an hour.