miss fortune mystery (ff) - bubba dub dub (9 page)

His gaze narrowed to mere slits and he got a look on his face like he had gas. “You didn’t find him?”

“Nope.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry you wasted a trip down here.”

Rouse leaned into the back of the chair, his face coming within a foot of mine. “You wouldn’t be lyin’ to me now, would you, Felicity? ’Cause I won’t take kindly to it if you are.”

“Why would I lie, Detective Rouse? Believe it or not I was happy my father was in witness protection. He was safe there. Out here, alone, he’s in serious danger from Nicholai’s men.”

Surprise filtered into his expression. “Have you seen the Russians down here?”

“They tried to kill us this morning,” Fortune told him.

Rouse slanted her a look. “What’s your name, honey.”

“None of your business.”

He got a sly grin. “That’s a funny name.”

“It’s unique but I like it.” Fortune’s expression gave away nothing of what she was thinking. She didn’t look the least intimidated by the blustering cop. “Have you stopped by the Sheriff’s office, Detective,” she asked him. “I’m sure he would be happy to verify that Felonius Chance isn’t here.”

Rouse snorted. “That guy can’t even verify whether his ancient horse is still alive.” He stood up, giving me one, last hostile glance. “I’d better not find out your daddy’s been here and you sent him safely on his way without calling me, Felicity.”

My cheeks heated as anger spiked. I was getting pretty sick of being threatened. “Or what, Rouse? You going to put me in cuffs and drag me back to Indy? Even if my father
had
been here you’d never know it because it took you three days to get here. Don’t blame me for your incompetence.”

He stepped closer, wagging a long finger in my direction. “Now you listen to me—”

“Is this man bothering you ladies?”

We looked toward the door as Walter approached, a wary look on his mature, handsome face. He offered Rouse his hand. “Name’s Walter. Who might you be?”

Rouse ignored the offered hand and, after glaring one last time at me, stormed out of the diner.

I expelled a long breath. “I think we’ve exceeded our quota on threats today.”

Gertie nodded. “Word.”

“That guy threatened you?” He was looking at Ida Belle.

“Of course not,” she responded. “
He
just threatened Felicity. Big, Carter and the Russians threatened
all
of us.”

Walter’s mouth fell open and then he closed it. It opened again, his head tipped, his eyes narrowed, and he snapped his lips shut. He shifted from one foot to the other, put his hands on his hips and then, looking at the floor, expelled a breath. “I’m really torn here, ladies. I don’t want you to tell me anything I have to keep from Carter…but I can’t protect you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“You don’t need to protect us, Walter,” Fortune said. “We can take care of ourselves. But you could answer a couple of questions for us if you would.”

His mouth tightened into a line but he nodded. “Ask.”

“You rented one of your speed boats to a couple of guys this morning, correct?”

He nodded. “Strange guys. Asked me a lot of questions about Bayou Bubba. Said they’d read about his murder in the papers. They had really thick accents…” His eyes widened as he realized. “The Russians?”

“Yeah,” Ida Belle verified. “They met us on the Bayou and tried to run us over with their boat. Carter already knows because he saw it happen. He just doesn’t know why we were out on the Bayou.”

Walter lifted his hands. “Don’t tell me.”

“Did those guys tell you where they were staying by any chance?” Fortune asked Walter.

“Not here in town, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m pretty sure they’re staying in Mudbug.”

Fortune and Ida Belle shared a look I couldn’t decipher.

“What about that guy?” Walter asked, glaring in the direction the detective had gone.

“Detective Rouse was the cop who took my dad back to Indianapolis so the Marshals could put him into witness protection. He used to work for the guy your boat renters work for. They’re all looking for my father.” Tears filled my eyes and Walter paled. “Rouse wants to arrest him again and the Russians want to kill him.”

Walter’s big hand patted me on the back a couple of times before his gaze slid nervously toward the door. He clearly had no experience with tearful women. Glancing at Ida Belle’s stern face, I realized why that was. He’d been in love for decades with a woman who’d been an American spy during the Vietnam war. A tough as nails woman who still kicked butt and took names forty plus years later. I figured it was likely Ida Belle had only cried once or twice in her whole life. When she was born was probably one of those times.

I sniffled. “I’m sorry. I guess it just hit me that a lot of bad people are lining up against my dad.”

“It’s okay, young lady. You have a right to be upset. But if your daddy’s not here they can’t get him, right?”

I scrubbed tears from my cheeks, my eyes brimming again. A sob worked its way up my throat.

Walter jumped like somebody’d hit him with a cattle prod. “Look at the time. I have to go.” He left the diner so fast he left skid marks on the linoleum.

“Here.” Gertie handed me a napkin so I could dry my face. “Nice work.”

“Thanks.” I blew my nose. “I figure I was doing him as much a favor as us. Walter clearly didn’t want to know what we’re up to.”

“No, you’re right,” Ida Belle agreed. “Ignorance is bliss where Walter is concerned.” Her phone rang and she looked at the ID. “It’s Walter.” She punched the button to answer. “You crazy old man, did you butt dial me again?”

Ida Belle listened for a minute, nodded, and then said thanks and hung up. “He forgot to tell us that Big contacted him about sponsoring a Fourth of July event.”

Fortune shook her head. “One problem solved.”

“Carter’s gonna be really annoyed,” Gertie offered.

“Yeah,” Fortune sighed. “I know.”

###

When we returned to Gertie’s the front door was ajar. Fortune put a hand on my arm. “Wait here, Felicity.”

I nodded, fully expecting Ida Belle and Gertie to stay back with me. To my vast surprise, Ida Belle pulled a small revolver from an ankle holster under her stretchy polyester slacks and Gertie dug around inside her Mary Poppins purse until she came up with the canon I’d seen earlier. She slung the purse back over her shoulder.

The three of them stalked toward the front door. When they reached the porch, Fortune made some motions with her hands and they split up, Gertie going left, Ida Belle going right, and Fortune moving silently up the steps of the porch toward the door.

I frowned. Fortune was not like any librarian I’d ever met. But then again, the two old ladies acted less like old ladies than I did.

That thought shamed me into action. I dug around in the pocket of my jeans until I came up with the mace Gertie had given me that morning. Moving as stealthily as I could, I followed Fortune up the stairs, intending to back her up when she went inside.

Unfortunately, the toe of my sneaker got caught on the edge of the top step and I started pitching forward. I slammed my foot down on the floor of the porch and stumbled forward several steps before I regained my balance.

Then I straightened, expelling a relieved breath, and found myself looking into Fortune’s appalled face. “Really, Felicity?”

I shrugged, whispering, “Sorry. I tripped.”

“It’s a little late to whisper, don’t ya think?”

Wincing, I moved slowly and carefully to a spot well behind Fortune so I didn’t get in her way. Or accidently trip over her and shoot myself in the face with the pepper spray.

Fortune reached for the door knob, easing it slowly open. She peered around the door frame and then shoved her hand backward, which I took to indicate that I was to stay back. No worries on that score, I’d apparently gotten my secret agent decoder ring from a Cracker Jack box and wasn’t quite ready for real spy stuff yet. 

When she disappeared inside and there were no gunshots, I moved toward the door and peered around myself. Something moved across the room and I glanced at Fortune. She was slipping quietly into the living room and I didn’t think she’d seen the movement. I stood there in full panic mode, unsure what to do.

The shadow moved again, easing silently into the foyer. The nightlight from the kitchen caught his white-blond hair and I realized I had to do something. Sucking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes and listened for his movements. When his soft footfalls neared the door where I stood, I gritted my teeth and dove around the opening, spraying wildly in the direction I assumed him to be and screaming, “Russians!”

There was a shout of pain and a gun went off, shattering the glass sidelight of the front door. I dove toward the ground as something popped in the direction of the living room and the man I’d sprayed stopped clawing at his face and slumped heavily to the ground.

His arm fell over me as he landed.

I scrambled away and a light came on, casting the foyer into glaring light.

Gertie came into the room from the kitchen and Ida Belle came down the stairs. “Is he dead?” Ida Belle asked.

Fortune leaned down and checked his pulse. “No. But he has a heck of a bump on his head.” She looked at me. “You okay?”

I nodded, gulping as I tried to pull air into my lungs. “I pepper sprayed him.”

Fortune grinned. “Nice work. It kept him from using that.” She pointed toward a rifle with a scope that looked like something the military would use.

“The house is empty,” Ida Belle told us. “The other guy’s not here.”

“I’ll call Carter,” Gertie said, pulling out her phone.

Fortune reached a hand toward Gertie. “Give me your handcuffs. I don’t want this one getting up before Carter gets here.”

Twenty minutes later I was sitting on the couch watching the injured man being hauled out on a stretcher and listening to Fortune explain to Carter how she’d just lifted her gun in a full out panic and shot in the man’s direction when he jumped out at them. She seemed very upset, since Carter arrived, though she’d been cool as a cucumber before he got there.

Ida Belle told Carter they’d gone upstairs to bed and heard a noise, then she and Fortune had come back down with their guns.

Gertie admitted to supplying the cuffs.

I sat on the edge of the couch trembling and drooling.

Carter had tried to question me but I’d been so incoherent he’d given up, telling the ladies they should take me to the emergency room and have me looked at because I “must have hit my head or something”.

He scoured all of us with a glance filled with unease. “What have you four gotten yourselves into? I ran this guy’s ID. He’s a Russian-born thug from Indiana.” His glare settled on me but I was still trembling and drooling so he didn’t even attempt to grill me about the impossible coincidence that a thug from my distant state had shown up in Sinful right behind me.

“I don’t have any idea,” Gertie said with a shrug. “Maybe he was trying to rob us.”

Carter frowned. “If I’m not mistaken, this was one of the guys in the boat you were playing chicken with yesterday. Any chance it could be related to that?”

Fortune looked at her shoes and Ida Bell shrugged. “I guess they could have followed us home.”

“They?” Carter’s frown deepened.

Ida Belle blanched but recovered quickly. “There were two of them in the boat, remember?”

He sighed. It was more than clear he didn’t believe anything the ladies told him but he seemed too tired to try to get underneath it at the moment. “Felicity, I got a call from Detective Rouse this morning. It seems he’s looking for your father again. I’m guessing that’s why you’re here too, but if there are other parties involved I need to know. I want you to come down to the station in the morning and tell me what’s going on. Understand?” His gaze slipped over the other three. “That goes for the rest of you, too. Obviously you’ve done something to piss somebody off and if Big and Little Hebert are involved you’re really in a pickle. I can’t help you unless you come clean.”

My friends mumbled some kind of response and I nodded mutely, afraid that if I opened my mouth I’d start to babble, possibly swerving into dangerous territory, like the truth.

Carter stalked out of the house and, a few minutes later the ambulance sped away. Carter climbed into his truck but didn’t leave. It seemed he would be watching the house for the rest of the night.

As Gertie pulled the door closed, Ida Belle sighed. “Well, that takes care of one problem.” She gave me a smile. “Come on, Felicity, I think you could use some cough syrup.”

I frowned. “Cough syrup?”

Fortune nodded. “Trust me, it’s exactly what you need right now. I’m having a shot or twelve myself.”

I shuffled toward the kitchen behind them. After the night I’d had, a little brain bleach in the form of moonshine seemed just about right.

CHAPTER TEN

Sinful’s Catholic Church was right across the street from the Baptist Church where Ida Belle, Gertie, and apparently Fortune all went. I’d heard about the banana pudding runs on Sunday mornings and hoped I’d be there to witness it the next time it happened.

Plus I fully intended to get in on that banana pudding. My mouth watered just thinking about it. “None of us are Catholic.” I told my cohorts in crime. “We aren’t going to be struck down by lightning when we go inside are we?”

Ida Belle snorted, “More like attacked by demons. This is where Celia Arceneaux goes to church, remember?”

Fortune grasped the aged, brass handle of the front doors and pulled one open. We all stood there, peering inside like we were exorcists about to enter the Amityville Horror house. Despite our obvious reluctance to go inside, the foyer looked pleasant enough. Dark paneling covered the walls and slate tile overlaid the floors. In the center of the space a round table held prayer books and a large clipboard with a sign-up sheet for something. Wandering over, I saw the church was sponsoring a Fourth of July picnic.