Soldiers of Fortune (26 page)

“She’s right,” I said, “and despite the fact that giving Nelson’s name to Little Hebert would kill two birds with one stone, we have to make sure he’s both birds. If you know what I mean.”

Ida Belle nodded. “Unfortunately, I do. If only they’d said something at the crawfish boil that indicated the money was to build a new lab.”

“I’d be willing to bet it is,” Gertie said.

“But are you willing to bet lives?” Ida Belle asked. “This is not going to turn out well for anyone whose name makes it to Little Hebert.”

“If we can get enough evidence,” I said, “we can turn it all over to the state police. If the key players are in prison, I don’t think the Heberts will take any action.”

“That’s true,” Ida Belle said. “No use sticking your neck out if the problem has been eliminated. But the state police are going to require even more evidence than the Heberts.”

“To get a conviction, sure,” I said, “but if we give them enough to launch an investigation, they should be able to put the pieces together. Nelson can’t be a criminal genius. I’m sure he’s left a trail of evidence.”

Gertie nodded. “And at least one of them will roll on the others once they’re arrested.”

“Then it sounds like a plan,” Ida Belle said.

Ally hurried over to us, dish soap in one hand and a sponge in the other. “Sorry it took so long. Francine called while I was inside and I made the mistake of answering. She is in the worst snit I’ve ever seen. Not that I blame her.”

“She’s pretty upset over the church release time thing, isn’t she?” Gertie asked.

“Yeah, but that’s not the worst of it,” Ally said as she wet my arms and starting soaping them up. “Today, Celia showed up at the café after I got off and told Francine that if she stopped serving banana pudding, the city would revoke her business license.”

“What?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“She’s lost her mind!”

We all started yelling at once.
 

“I don’t understand Celia at all,” Ally said. “She’s going about everything wrong. Francine’s is the only good place to eat in town, and anyone who tried to open if Francine is forced out would never do a dime of business with the residents.”

“She thought if she was mayor,” Gertie said, “that she could control everything. And she’s finding out that people have their own minds.”

“If she’s not removed from office soon,” Ida Belle said, “this could get really bad. They may start with rocks through her windows, but that’s not where things will end if she keeps running roughshod over this town.”

“We might have a more immediate problem,” I said.

“What?” Ida Belle asked.

“These aren’t coming off.” I pointed to my now-squeaky-clean arms, complete with dark tattoos.
 

Chapter Fifteen

“What?” Gertie leaned over and rubbed her thumb on my arm. “That’s not possible. Look, mine are already starting to bleed from the fire foam.”

“We’re all looking at it,” I said, “so clearly it’s possible.”

“Maybe different skin types have a different reaction to the dye,” Ally said.
 

“You’re sure the tattoos came from the same place?” Ida Belle said.

Gertie’s eye widened. “Uh-oh.”

“What?” I yelled. “No. ‘Uh-oh’ is not an acceptable response.”

“I ordered them months ago,” Gertie said. “I forgot that the one company only had this set that I liked.”

“So the tattoos I’m wearing are from a different company?” I threw my hands up in the air. “Great. At the rate my luck is going, I’ll be wearing these things all summer.”

“I don’t think it will be that long,” Gertie said, “but maybe a few days, if you shower a lot.”

“How am I supposed to explain this to Carter?” I asked. “It’s not like I can wear long-sleeved shirts until they fade.”

The three of them looked at one another, then at the ground.
 

“You’re all a big help,” I complained.

“My hip is hurting,” Gertie said. “I think I’m going to finish the rest of the cleanup at home.”

Ida Belle nodded. “I rode over here with her. We’ll check in later about the other thing.”

The two of them hightailed it around the house and I looked at Ally. “Are you abandoning me, too?”

She bit her lower lip. “I won’t, but I’m not sure what I can do to help. I don’t think my being there is enough to keep him from losing it.”

I sighed. “I know. Please tell me there’s something delicious and sweet in the kitchen that I can use to soften the blow.”

“We baked lemon pies this morning at the café. I brought one home for you.”

“Okay, that helps. Go on. Take a walk. Rob a bank. Anything is probably more pleasant than what I’m about to do.”

“Sorry,” she said. “Send me a text when it’s safe. I’m going to take a walk over to my house and see how the construction is coming.”
 

She hurried off without so much as a backward glance. Probably trying to get out of sight before I changed my mind. I turned off the water hose and headed inside to face the music. I didn’t have a single idea of how to explain the tattoos, so I’d have to wing it. I stopped in the kitchen long enough to grab another beer from the refrigerator, then headed into the living room.

I handed Carter the beer, and he glanced over enough to take it. “Thanks.”

“I thought you might be due for another. I’m going to head upstairs for a quick shower.”

He looked up at me and his eyes widened. “What the hell? Your arms? Is that…you didn’t get—”

“They’re only temporary,” I said. “Unfortunately, they’re not quite as temporary as Gertie thought.”

“You trusted Gertie to decorate your body?” He stared at me as if I’d lost my mind. Then I saw his lower lip quivering.

I punched him in the arm. “You think this is funny.”

“Well, yeah. Gertie is a total disaster. Why in the world would you trust her to put ink on you without reading the instructions?”

“I guess for the same reason I let Ida Belle talk me into being sprayed down with a fire extinguisher?”

“Yeah, I totally don’t get the skin care thing, but if Ida Belle thinks it’s a thing, I can kinda understand that move. But what in the world possessed you to try tattoos?”

“I don’t know. Gertie got the idea that tattoos would make us look tough.”

His eyes widened. “Gertie did the tattoos as well?”

“Yeah, but hers are the kind that washed off, so they’re already in the Sinful sewage system. Apparently, she wasn’t as diligent with the product description reading on mine.”

“And you need to look tough, why exactly?”

“We don’t, I guess, but it sounded cool at the time.”

He studied my arms for a minute. “It’s kinda cool, I guess. Except for the part where you look like a regular at the Swamp Bar.”

I felt my back tense. “I didn’t think about that. I guess people might look at me a little weird for the next week or so.”

Carter shook his head. “I’m not sure which is worse—the things you get into when you’re sticking your nose into police business or the things you get into when you’re not.”

I just nodded. That conversation was fraught with issues. Besides, I was so relieved that he was amused rather than suspicious that I didn’t even care if he thought I was a fool. I headed upstairs, shaking my head. Where the hell had I gone so wrong that being thought a fool had become the good option?

I had a feeling the answer started with coming to Sinful.

###

Despite a thirty-minute shower in scalding hot water and three rounds of soap, two of shampoo, the tattoos didn’t fade even a little. I spent an afternoon watching television with Carter and slowly losing my mind. How did people just sit in front of a television when there were so many things to be done?
 

I kept having to remind myself that Carter was under doctor’s orders to sit in front of the television and specifically restricted from doing things. Not to mention I’d chewed him out for not doing so the night before. Several times I looked over at him, expecting to see some look of frustration or boredom, but he seemed perfectly content to take up space in my recliner and watch reruns of
Gunsmoke
.

And who was I to judge? If my entire life was being sidelined by idiots, I might retreat to a recliner with a beer as well. It was a better option than beating your head against a brick wall, and right now, that was an accurate description of Celia.

Halfway through the ten millionth shootout, I got a text from Ida Belle saying she’d confirmed Nelson was staying at the motel. They wanted to regroup tonight to plan our next move, assuming I could find a good reason for ditching Carter on a Saturday night. As it turned out, luck was on my side once more, and Carter had his monthly poker game that night. And an old high school friend of Ally’s was having a baby shower, so I was free and clear to do any and all of the things I was not supposed to do
   

Ida Belle and Gertie showed up around seven and we headed right for plotting headquarters, also known as the kitchen.
 

“What did Carter say about the tattoos?” Gertie asked.

“He thought it was funny,” I said.

They looked at each other, clearly confused.
 

“Why would he think tattoos are funny?” Ida Belle asked.

“Not the tattoos themselves,” I explained, “but the fact that I trusted Gertie and now they won’t wash off.”

“Why is everyone always picking on me?” Gertie asked.

“I don’t know,” Ida Belle said. “It can’t possibly be because of the things you do.”

“Why did you tell him I put them on you?” Gertie asked.
 

“Because I couldn’t have done it myself and you’re the only person who would talk me into something that stupid.”

“There is that,” Gertie agreed.

“Anyway,” I said, “the good thing is the tattoos didn’t cause him to question anything but my judgment, so we got away with this one.”

“We’re lucky he’s on medical leave,” Ida Belle said. “If he’d gotten the call on the runaway boat, he would have known it was us.”

“He’s bound to hear about it sooner or later,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve heard the end of this one.”

“At least we’re clear for tonight,” Gertie said. “If he’d clued in that we were after the meth producer, he would have canceled poker and sat watch. What did you tell Ally?”

“Nothing,” I said. “By the time she got back here, she had to get ready for the shower. I told her I’d fill her in later.”

“Good,” Ida Belle said. “The fewer people who know about this, the better. I know we can’t keep her out of it forever, but maybe by tomorrow, it won’t be an issue.”

I looked at Ida Belle. “You have a plan?”

She nodded. “The motel rooms all face the parking lot and the only rear window is one of those little ones over the bathtub. Given the regular criminal activity happening there, the parking lot has security cameras that show everyone entering and exiting the rooms.”

“Do I even want to know how you know that?” I asked.

“One of the ladies from choir had her attorney subpoena the footage to bust her husband cheating.”

“Nice.”

“So given the security cameras,” Ida Belle said, “I didn’t think we could risk breaking into his room to bug it.”

“Ha,” I said. “If we got caught breaking into the new sheriff’s motel room, Nelson would put us under the jail. And we wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.”

Ida Belle nodded. “But there’s nothing to stop us from renting the room next door.”

“You think the walls are that thin?” I asked.

“I’m sure the construction is shoddy,” Ida Belle said, “and we might be able to hear through the wall, but I’m positive we’ll be able to hear through the ceiling.”

“Oh!” I clued into what Ida Belle had in mind. “It’s those ceiling tiles like in the sheriff’s department. So we could slide one to the side on our end, inch one over on theirs, and have a bird’s-eye view of the room and the conversation.”

“That’s what I’m hoping,” Ida Belle said.

“Wait. You don’t know for sure it’s the ceiling tiles?”

“Of course not,” Ida Belle said. “Why in the world would I have been in one of those rooms? But given the year of construction, it’s likely.”

“What’s the worst thing that can happen?” Gertie asked. “We get nothing?”

“I guess so,” I said. “But we have to be extra careful that Nelson doesn’t see us.”

“Goes without saying,” Ida Belle said.
 

“So what’s the plan?” I asked.

“We head out now for the hotel,” Ida Belle said. “We’ll take Gertie’s car. It’s so beat-up it won’t stand out in the parking lot.”

Gertie frowned but didn’t argue.

“You and I will go into the room and handle the recording part.” Ida Belle reached for the backpack she’d brought inside and pulled out a tiny camera that looked like nothing more than a small plastic tube. “This will record to a cell phone. All we need to do is put it in place and wait for Benedict to show up.”