Swamp Team 3 (4 page)

“Uh-huh. And how many times were you successful?”

Ally blinked. “Ha. Never.”

“Then why bother?”

“I swear I’m going to stop. When I called Aunt Celia earlier to tell her about the fire and let her know I would be staying with you until the house was fit to live in again, she pitched a fit. Said it was her duty as family and a Christian to put me up, and I was basically disparaging her as a host, a family member, and a godly woman.”

“That’s a lot of insult just because you chose to sleep in someone else’s house.”

Ally sighed. “That’s Aunt Celia.”

“Which is exactly why you don’t need to stay with her. Between trying to run everything about the house repairs and your life, she’d drive you crazy.”

“So true. But enough about me. Tell me about your almost date…er, sorry,
dinner
.”

I shrugged. “Not much to tell. He picked me up, started driving, then he got the call about the fire and we came back.”

She looked disappointed. “No smoldering glances, a quick feel of the rear—yours or his—a stolen kiss, anything?”

“He brushed my shoulder with his hand when he opened the truck door.”

She slumped back in her chair. “We’ve got to work on your game.”

I laughed. “I haven’t exactly seen you rushing about with men. Isn’t cleaning up your own doorstep one of those Christian things, too?”

“Touché. Although, if I could find a guy who did it for me, I could totally become walking sexy, at least around him.”

The thought of Ally as a sex symbol made me smile. “You’d have to wear those really high, skinny heels that I see on television. I’ve never seen anyone ‘walking sexy’ in flip-flops.”

She laughed. “Shuffling sexy?”

“Well, you were barefoot outside of your house and that cute fireman seemed to enjoy the view.”

Ally’s eye widened. “David? He was just being nice.”

“If being nice makes him blush, then I guess you’re right.”

“He blushed?” Her brow wrinkled. “Do you really think he might be interested?”

I shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’m the original anti-girlie-girl.”

“Who’s being hit on by the hottest guy in town.”

“And I have no idea why.”

Ally studied me for a moment, her expression puzzled. “You really don’t know, do you? At first, I thought you were being modest, but that’s not it at all. You really have no idea how attractive you are.”

I felt a blush creep up my neck and was thankful that only a single lamp was on in the room. “It’s not something I think about.”

“But you did all those pageants,” Ally said. “I guess I just figured you’d know everything about looks and putting yourself out there.”

I hesitated for a moment before answering. The real Sandy-Sue Morrow had spent time on the beauty pageant circuit, and it was the hardest part of my cover to swallow. The lies were on the tip of my tongue, just waiting for me to queue them up, but I felt guilty continuing to lie to her. Then reality took over, reminding me that I didn’t have a choice.

“That was really my mother’s thing,” I said, passing off my fake past. “I was never into it, and I think she probably exaggerated a good bit about my accomplishments.”

Ally frowned. “That sucks on both counts. Why can’t parents let kids do what they want and support them? Why do they have to make up stories to be important to their friends, or whatever?”

“Some parents are great,” I said, faint memories of my mom running through my mind. “Others, not so much.”
 

Like my father.

“I suppose you’re right.” Ally rose from her chair. “I’m going to head up to bed. I’m completely wiped out.”

I nodded as she headed up the stairs, our conversation replaying in my mind.
 

It was the second time in a single day that someone had commented on my looks. Back in DC, where I was focused solely on my career, I didn’t have to think about my parents. Now, it seemed as if they were on my mind every day.
 

I rose from my chair and turned off the lamp. I’d been given entirely too much to think about in the last couple of weeks. Sinful and its residents had found a way to make me take a hard look at my past, my present, and my future.

Unfortunately, I still didn’t have answers for any of them.

###

I was in the middle of a dream where all my enemies had to dress like ballerinas when the bed started shaking. I bolted out of bed, grabbing my pistol, readying for fire by the time my feet hit the floor.

“Don’t shoot. It’s Ally.”

I blinked and my eyes began to focus in the dim moonlight. Ally stood at the end of my bed, her hands in the air.

“Put your hands down,” I said. “I’m not going to shoot you.”

She dropped her hands to her sides and let out a breath. “You could have fooled me. Jeez Louise, you move fast.”

“It’s probably just adrenaline,” I said, trying to brush it off. “What’s wrong?”

“I heard something outside in the bushes right below my window.”

“It’s probably Merlin.”

She shook her head. “He came in about an hour ago and curled up at the end of my bed. When I got up to check the noise, he took off downstairs.”

I frowned. “I’ll check it out.”

I headed downstairs, Ally right behind me, then crossed the living room to the front door.

“You’re not going out the back door?” Ally asked.

“I want to sneak up on them.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, I didn’t think you were going outside. I thought maybe you’d just flip on the back porch light and scare them off or something.”

“Then we wouldn’t know who it was.” I opened the front door. “Lock the door behind me. And stay inside. If you hear a scuffle, call the police.”

“Shouldn’t we just call the police now?”

“He’d be gone before they got here.” I slipped out the door and pulled it shut behind me before she could formulate another argument.

I hurried down the front steps and around the side of the house to the back. With my luck, it would be another cat. Perhaps one that had seen Merlin con his way in and thought he could follow suit. Or even worse, a dog. I’d had Marge’s old bloodhound, Bones, living with me for a bit when I first moved to Sinful, but he was so old he didn’t do much besides sleep. A younger, more active dog would be far more work than I was interested in, especially with a cat already in residence. That sounded like a recipe for noise and broken things.

I inched up to the edge of the house and stopped, listening to the faint rustling of bushes in the still night air. Something was definitely back there, but I couldn’t gauge size by the limited amount of noise. Figuring I may as well get it over with and get back to bed, I sprang around the corner and came face to face with a masked man.
 

I’m not sure who was more surprised, but he uttered a startled yelp before spinning around. I managed to grab his mask as he turned and his head yanked back. Got him, I thought, but then the mask ripped and he fled down the side of the house behind the bushes. I took off after him, clutching the torn mask, hell-bent on catching him and forcing him to talk. He jumped onto the back porch about ten feet ahead of me and I saw him reach down and lift something up from the floor and attempt to hurl it at me. Because he was running and twisting at the same time, he didn’t come close to his target and the object went hurtling into the backyard.
 

A moment of confusion swept over me because I couldn’t recall anything sitting on the back porch, but I got my answer a second later when I heard a high-pitched screech and a low-pitched yell. As I leaped onto the porch, Ally burst out the back door, pistol in hand. I tried to put on the brakes, but the forward motion of my leap made it impossible to stop before slamming into Ally. Her gun went off and I tackled her onto the porch.
 

I sprang up almost as quickly as I fell and started to reach my hand down to help Ally up when I was struck blind with a beam of light. I put one hand up, trying to make out the figure walking toward us, but I was afraid I already knew. Only one person existed in Sinful who would walk toward the fiasco on my porch rather than run away.

“I don’t know which to be more pissed off about,” Carter said as he stepped up to the porch, “the fact that you threw a cat on me or that you shot at me.”

“Well, since I am innocent of either infraction,” I said, “choose whichever you’d like.”

He aimed the flashlight at the back wall of the house, casting a glow over the porch.

I dropped my hand from my forehead as Ally scrambled up from the porch. “She didn’t shoot at you,” Ally said. “I did. I mean, not on purpose. It was an accident.”

She looked at me, then back at Carter. “I don’t know anything about throwing a cat. Is that for real?”

Carter aimed the light at his head where we could see three fine scratches running up his forehead, tiny droplets of blood trickling from them.
 

“Oh,” Ally said, then bit her lower lip. “Is the cat all right?”

“Based on the way he tore over my head and off toward the shed, I’d say the cat got the better end of all this.”

Carter aimed the flashlight back at the house and glared. “Someone tell me what the hell is going on here!”

“I heard a noise,” Ally said, “and woke Fortune up. She went out to check.”

Carter fixed his gaze on me. “Just like that. Not even a thought about calling the police?”

Ally sucked in a breath, and I stepped down on her toes. “If I called the police every time a raccoon or cat or whatever makes a racket at my house, you’d run me out of town.”

Carter stared. “So I’m supposed to believe the cat made enough noise to get you outside, then flew ten yards out of the bushes?”

“No,” I said. “There was a guy in the bushes. When he saw me, he ran. He threw the cat. I think he was aiming for me, but he wasn’t a very good shot.”

 
Carter narrowed his eyes. “What guy?”

“I don’t know. He was wearing a mask.” I held up the remnants of the mask.

Carter reached up and took the mask from me, shining the light on it. “Good God Almighty, this is a beanie hat with holes cut in it.”

I shrugged. “I guess he improvised. Probably not a big call for ski masks in Sinful.”

Carter gave me an exasperated look. “The point is someone took the time to create a makeshift mask in order to sneak around your house.”

“Oh,” I said. “Yeah, I guess I see the problem.”

Carter shook his head and reached over to pick up Ally’s pistol. “Is this yours?” he asked me.

“It’s mine,” Ally said.

He looked at her, one eyebrow raised.

“I swear,” Ally said. “Fortune didn’t even know I had it. I was listening at the back door, but when I heard all the racket, I was afraid someone was attacking her so I came out to help.”

Carter sighed and handed her the pistol. “It will be a damn miracle if the two of you can live together without shooting anyone. Can you try? I mean, try really hard?”

“I didn’t even fire my weapon,” I said, feeling rather pleased with myself. “I suppose I could have shot the beanie-hat-ski-mask guy but I figured it might be a problem.” I looked at Carter. “Should I have shot him?”

“No!” Carter yelled. “You’re not supposed to shoot random people.”

“Even if they’re in my yard, wearing a fake ski mask?”

“Even if. You’re supposed to call the police.”
 

I shrugged. “Doesn’t look like I had to. You were already here.” I frowned. “Why were you already here?”

“If you must know, I was patrolling the bayou. I saw something moving in your backyard—probably your masked friend—so I docked my boat and headed up here to check it out.”

“Okay,” I said. It made sense, except for the part about patrolling the bayou. The entire time I’d been in Sinful, I hadn’t ever heard of scheduled midnight bayou patrols by the sheriff’s department. If Carter was on the bayou in the middle of the night, he was looking for something. He just wasn’t about to tell me what.

Carter shoved the mask in his back pocket. “Get back inside and lock the doors. If you hear anything again, call the sheriff’s department. I’m on call all night.” He locked his gaze on me. “Under no circumstances are you to leave the house until after daylight. And no firearms.” He looked over at Ally, then back at me. “Either of you.”

“No problem,” I said.

He didn’t look remotely convinced, but he whirled around and stalked off toward the bayou. I waved Ally in the back door and locked it behind us.
 

“What the heck is going on?” Ally asked. “What was that guy doing behind your house, and wearing a mask? The whole thing is weird and creepy.”

I watched as the running lights on Carter’s boat came on and he backed away from the bank. “I don’t know what’s going on. But you can bet I’m going to find out.”

Chapter Four

I awoke the next morning to the smell of warm blueberries. I threw back the covers and took a huge sniff, certain I’d died and gone to heaven. I’d been over the moon about the muffins before, but that was before I’d eaten them straight out of the oven. I may have to be committed before the morning was over.