Murder for a Rainy Day (Pecan Bayou Book 6) (11 page)

I grabbed my trash and went downstairs to turn on the television. Hurricane Ezra was spinning on the screen, and computer models indicated it was headed right for Houston. I called Leo.

"Hey, just checking in. I saw the hurricane on television."

"Are you having a baby? Do I need to come get you?"

"I’m fine."

He sighed. "Good. Ezra is incredible. I can’t believe I was up in the middle of it. Thank you, thank you, thank you. They said next time they might let me go up again because I did such a good job."

I know I should have congratulated him at this point, but the idea of him going up in these clouds on a regular basis was not something I could deal with at the moment.

"The Air Force guys, or the Hurricane Hunters as they like to be called, are a different breed of people. They're not afraid to do anything. They see a storm, and while everybody else would run away, they put on their backpacks and fly into it." Shades of Ghostbusters crossed my mind and I wasn’t sure if my husband was channeling Bill Murray or Dan Akroyd.

"That’s great." My answer was underwhelming.

"I met one guy named Nate who just called me. Not only does he go up in these flights to measure the wind speed, but on weekends he's a tornado hunter. Isn't it wild? He has his truck completely outfitted with equipment so he can record data on the tornadoes and get live footage. These are the pioneers of weather. It's like I was hanging out with Ford or Edison. These guys are on top of it all. They don't look at weather through a computer; they look at it through their binoculars. They live it!"

Leo had converted to the ranks of daredevil weather chasers. I felt stranded in the eye of a hurricane.

"Now that we have a storm, and we know that it's Houston, what's our emergency plan?" I asked. Leo didn’t immediately respond, as if he hadn’t considered how it would affect his own family. I don't know if I found that amazing or downright scary.

He finally spoke up. "We need to make sure that we have our hurricane supplies on hand. You know—water, non-perishable food, and batteries. Find the weather radio and put the flashlights in places you can find in the dark." I already had most of those supplies in a shed or the garage labeled emergency supplies.

"Do you think we should go get the boys?" I asked.

"Looking at the path of the storm, unless it veers in the direction of the camp when it comes on land, they’re probably safer there."

"Unless?" 

"Weather is more predictable than ever, but it’s too early to predict what it will do after it makes landfall. We’ll know more as the storm gets closer to land."

"Will that give us time to get the boys evacuated?"

"I wish I could give you a better answer, but I just can't."

"If we do have to rescue them, how do we get them? You can't leave your job. My dad can't leave his. I suppose we could send Aunt Maggie."

"Haven't you told me over and over how frightened Danny is of bad storms? She certainly couldn't leave him here alone. If he gets way out of sorts, I don’t know if we could handle him."

"So, what do we do?"

"I need to think about this. Sorry Bets, I really have to go. I need to call my mother to make sure she’s planning to leave Galveston. Sometimes she gets that ‘hunker down’ mentality when it comes to her house." Gwyn’s two story house fronted the water. It was her own personal paradise. Leaving it would be tough for anyone.

I closed out my call with Leo. Hurricane Hal still chattered on TV.

"You heard it right folks. We have a big one heading right for us. Better get down to your favorite store and pick up bottled water and all your essentials before they’re gone. Oh, and for those of you planning your storm party, Bubba’s Beer and Bait will be selling beer by the caseload out the back door." Storm party. Only in Pecan Bayou would this make the weather forecast.

"And if things get dicey, we just want you to know the city council is setting up an emergency shelter in the Nolan Ryan Middle School gymnasium. If you find you are in the path of the storm and told to evacuate, head on over to the school. Oh, and PTA president Phyllis Hamlin stresses that none of Bubba’s Beer will be let into the building. You’ll have to tailgate just like you do at the games. Also for all the travelers from out of town, we will be providing shelter for them in the LBJ high school gym. They don't need to know they're getting the older facility. Ain't that right folks?"

As I listened to Hurricane Hal— or Hurricane Hell as my father loved to call him—I began to feel like time was running out. The waiting was ending. The hurricane was coming, and I was nearing the beginning of labor. I would go crazy if I spent any more time in my house. 

My mind raced as I fought off a case of worry overload. I tried rationalizing my fears. What was there to worry about? Leo chasing storms? The boys in danger at summer camp? Hurricane Ezra triggering storms on land or—oh yeah, the birth of my baby?

It was just too much for me to think about. I longed for the days when all I did was write my helpful hints column and solved a few murders. Whatever happened to those carefree days? I knew what I needed to do. I would work on the thefts of the animals. In my physical state it would be a harmless way to occupy my brain. I grabbed a notebook and pencil out of the kitchen drawer, and started writing down everything I knew about the two thefts.

First there was Charlie Loper’s horse. There weren’t that many Charlie Loper fans left, but maybe an overeager octogenarian wanted it for his personal collection. It was probably standing right next to Howdy Doody’s red bandana and Captain Kangaroo’s ping pong balls. An eighty-year-old who could move a life-size horse? Still, it was a motive. I wrote it down.

Then we had the big brown cow outside the Cattleman’s Call. This thief had to be the same person who stole Charlie’s horse because, come on, how often are there two wackos running around stealing display animals? If it was the same person, the idea of it being the world’s oldest cowboy fan becomes less plausible. That cow never had a minute of screen time as far as I knew. So now this person had a horse and cow hidden off somewhere. What could being going on in the mind of the thief? I sat back in my chair feeling the baby shift from one side to the other. Could it be my future offspring enjoyed solving mysteries?

  I was beginning to feel some heartburn. At this point, eating anything greasy like fried chicken gave me some intense stomach distress. Having the baby crowding all the organs that might aid in digesting the grease wasn’t helping matters. No greasy chicken, or chicken fried steak, or breaded pork chops. Just about anything on Birdie’s menu could send me to the medicine cabinet for antacid. 

That was when it hit me. There was now a giant chicken on the roof of Birdie’s Diner made out of soup cans. The chicken had to be the next victim of the critter-stealing thief. This was just what I needed to get my mind off my worries. I would stake out Birdie’s Diner. However, I realized if I were going to do this, I would need to take precautions, being this close to delivery. I had done my share of sleuthing over the years, but this was the first time I was investigating for two. I phoned Aunt Maggie.

"Is it time?" She answered. Damn that caller ID. Couldn’t I call anybody on the phone without them thinking I was in the final stages of labor?

"No. I'm fine. I was wondering if you could help me out with something tonight."

"Anything. Just ask."

"Great. Will you sit with me while I do surveillance on Birdie’s Diner tonight?"

"Are you sure you're not in labor?"

"Yes! I mean no. I am not having a baby. Maybe I need to call NUTV and have them broadcast it. I am not having a baby today."

"No need to call. They’re already running daily bulletins. Seriously, listen to yourself. You want to go and sit outside Birdie’s tonight? You are having a baby. People who have babies do not sit in cars all night."

"They do when they're going crazy sitting around the house worrying about a hurricane."

"And this is your solution to reducing anxiety? I think this pregnancy is going to your head."

"Please, Aunt Maggie?" I begged. She didn’t answer me. I knew I was close to winning.
"What am I supposed to do with Danny?"

"Bring him along. It’ll be fun. Like when we used to go to the drive-in."

"I suppose he could bring his blanket and his pillow and sleep in the back seat." Score one for Betsy. We were going to catch a thief.

By nine o’clock we were parked in an inconspicuous spot across the street from Birdie’s Diner. I nibbled on one of Aunt Maggie’s biscuits to take my mind off my aching back. When Maggie handed me a piece of chicken, I waved her off.

"I just thought fried chicken would be appropriate for a stakeout of Birdie’s Diner," Maggie said.

"It is perfect," I said, "but I don’t think I can handle it right now." I shifted in my seat.

"More for me," Danny said from the back seat.

We stared up at the roof of Birdie’s Diner. Birdie had closed the diner half an hour ago and the setting sun backlit the large metal chicken on the roof. Birdie’s boyfriend had spray painted the hobbled-together bird and it did resemble a chicken, somewhat. The glow from the setting sun made the big bird look more like the victim of a nuclear accident near a chicken farm than a family restaurant mascot.

"Now what is it that makes you think the serial animal thief will be coming for the soup-can chicken tonight?" Maggie asked.

"The hurricane. Super chicken over there doesn’t stand a chance in this storm. Our thief will want to add it to his herd and get it under wraps before the storm hits. While most people are buying bottled water, this guy is stocking up on fake animals. Makes sense to me."

"Me too," Danny said, his mouth full of biscuit. "Did you pack the lemonade too?"

Maggie pulled out her thermos of fresh lemonade. She poured Danny a cup and passed it back to him.

"Thanks Mama," he said. I picked up the binoculars and scanned the front of the restaurant.

"Have you tried Birdie’s new pecan crusted chicken?" Maggie said. "It’s delicious and a great way to use up pecans."

"Not yet. Leo and I will have to try it next time we’re out with the boys."

"And the baby." Maggie smiled.

"Yes. We’ll have the baby, too."

I glanced back up at the chicken. It was still holding down the roof.  I still hadn’t had time to ask Birdie about her new boyfriend. She had been single for as long as I could remember. I thought it was strange she had a boyfriend that none of us had met. Whoever this man was he was artistic enough to make a giant chicken. What else could he do?

"Do you see anything yet?" Danny whispered as if the thief would hear us.

"Not yet."

"Will the guy be wearing a black mask?"

"Why would you think that, Danny?" I asked.

"Because the bad guy always wears a black mask in the cartoons. There are holes cut out in the middle for his eyes, so he can see where he’s going. Seems like the cops would see those masks and know right away who the bad guy was."

"If it were only that easy, your uncle Judd would be able to go fishing more often," Maggie said.

"Don’t you worry," Danny said,"if the bad guys show up, I brought my own mask." He pulled a black plastic mask out of his backpack and began slipping the elastic band over his ears.  "I’m Batman. I get the bad guys." He removed the mask and looked at Maggie. "Did you bring the chocolate cake, too?"

Aunt Maggie reached down for her container of chocolate cake. She opened it with the precision of a surgeon and extracted a piece of cake, placing it on a napkin for Danny.

"Now don't you go making a mess in the back of Betsy's car. Betsy doesn’t want to be scrubbing chocolate off the seat."

"Is this where you're going to have a baby? Right here in this very seat?"

"I hope not."

"I made a present for the baby."

"I know. I can’t wait to see it."

"I can’t wait to see the baby," he said.

I remembered when Zach was younger, he and Danny sat in front of the TV for hours watching cartoons. Danny and Zach played together for years, but now that Zach was getting older, Danny was losing his best buddy. I hoped this child would be as good a friend to Danny as Zach had been.

The street was eerily quiet on this hot summer night. Not a car or person in sight. Most people were inside with their air conditioners running, either asleep or watching television.  After the food had been put away, we sat in the dark for what felt like forever.

"I don't know, Betsy. Maybe you were wrong about the thief."

"I'm sleepy. I want to go home and go to bed." Danny let out a huge yawn.

"I'm getting pretty tired myself. Maybe it is time for bed." Aunt Maggie said.

I felt sure the thief would hit tonight, so I really didn’t want to leave. "Can we just wait another half hour?"