Swamp Sniper (16 page)

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Authors: Jana DeLeon

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“People will shoot you in Boston, too,” I said, “but you make a valid point. If he didn’t need the money, then it must be for fun. But that makes him crazy.”

Ida Belle shook her head. “I don’t disagree with the crazy part, but I’m starting to wonder if the inheritance story wasn’t a lie.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“One of the Sinful Ladies is a receptionist over at the bank. She said she overheard the loan guy talking about having to do a foreclosure on Ted and Paulette’s house. She’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, so I figured she’d heard wrong or gotten her facts mixed up, but after seeing those photos, I have to wonder.”

“If Ted was broke,” I said, “that effectively eliminates Paulette as a suspect. She has absolutely nothing to gain, especially if Ted’s blackmailing schemes were paying for all those spa visits.”

“Darn,” Gertie said. “After seeing how she decorated her house, I really wanted her behind bars. That shouldn’t be legal.”

“So what do we do now?” Ida Belle asked.

“First thing,” I said, “is going over these photos and making a list of everyone in them. Then I want you two to figure out if we can eliminate any of them from the suspect list.”

Ida Belle nodded. “You mean, like they were out of town the night of the rally…things like that.”

“Exactly.”

Ida Belle pointed toward the back of the house. “Head to the kitchen. I’ll go grab my laptop.”

Ida Belle hurried off upstairs for her laptop and I trailed after Gertie to the kitchen, where she started a pot of coffee. Ida Belle hustled back into the kitchen a minute later and slid into the chair next to me.

“You two talk,” I instructed as I pulled the laptop over in front of me and opened it. “I’ll take notes.”

Gertie slid into a chair next to Ida Belle and they started flipping through the photos, talking so fast I had to stop them occasionally to catch up and ask for clarification on some of the Creole and Cajun names that I had no idea how to spell. Finally, they delivered on the last photo and I looked at the list.

“Eighteen people,” I said. “Now, let’s see if we can narrow it down any.”

They spread the photos out in front of them and started up again.

“These six were offshore.”

“These two were working evenings on the road crew outside of New Orleans.”

“He was at his aunt’s funeral in Baton Rouge.”

“He moved to Alaska to work the pipeline, and this one moved to Texas.”

I verified names and tapped in the information as fast as my fingers would work. When they paused for a couple of seconds, I checked the list.
 

“That gets us down to seven,” I said. “Anyone else you can take off the list?”

Gertie shoved three photos over in front of Ida Belle. “Weren’t these three in jail in New Orleans?”

Ida Belle brightened. “That’s right!”

I paused. “All three…at the same time?”

“They were off on a gambling trip the weekend before the rally. They got a little drunk and tried to hold up the casino with water pistols. The casino management pressed charges.”

“I wonder why,” I mumbled and made a note next to the three men.

Too stupid to actually commit a real crime.

“Okay, so that leaves us with four. Toby Anderson, Lyle Cox, Blaine Evans, and Shelly Fisher. A boat thief, a drug dealer, a poacher, and an adulterer. Any of those that you think absolutely, positively couldn’t kill someone?”

Ida Belle and Gertie looked at each other, then back at me, and both shrugged.

“So you’re cynics like me,” I said, “and think all it takes for someone to be a killer is the proper motivation?”

“I guess so,” Gertie said. “Jeez, we’re a depressing bunch.”

“I prefer realistic,” Ida Belle corrected. “The bottom line is Fortune’s right. Any of the people on that list could have been desperate enough to murder Ted if it meant keeping their secret and stopping the financial hemorrhaging.”

“What’s their financial status?” I asked.

“All of them have limited means,” Ida Belle said, “and all but Lyle have spouses who would leave if they had any idea of these things. The spouses being the ones with actual steady employment.”

“So four it is,” I said, already pleased at how many we’d eliminated from the list. “Four is manageable.” I looked at Gertie. “I don’t suppose you recognized the voices of the guys in the house as any of the men on this list?”

“No, it was too muffled and to be honest, I was a little stressed.”

“No matter,” I said. “Any of these people except Shelly could have been the ones in the house. The opportunists in the group would have thought the vigil was the perfect time to gather up anything incriminating to prevent it coming to light.”

“What now?” Ida Belle asked.
 

“Step B of my plan,” I said.

Gertie clapped her hands. “Fortune thinks we should look into Ted and Paulette’s past.”

“I’m as nosy as the next person,” Ida Belle said, “but why focus on their life before Sinful?”

I pointed at the photos. “Do you really think this is the first time Ted has done something like this?”

Ida Belle frowned. “Maybe not. It all seems rather…”

“Calculated?” I supplied. “Professional?”

“That’s it,” Ida Belle said. “It seems professional.”

“If Ted pulled this sort of thing before, maybe he’s got a record for it.”

“Or maybe someone he was extorting money from before followed him down here,” Gertie said.

“That’s a possibility I don’t want to think about right now,” I said. “At least not until we’ve eliminated everyone local.”

“Researching Ted and Paulette is a good idea,” Ida Belle said, “but we don’t have much to go on. They didn’t talk much about their past.”

“Which is interesting,” I said, “considering how much of a blowhole Ted was.”

“True,” Ida Belle said.

I frowned. “Come to think of it, I didn’t see any pictures in their house. Did you?” I asked Gertie.

Gertie scrunched her brow for a minute then shook her head. “Not that I can recall. We didn’t spend any time downstairs though, except to move through it. But even then, I recall some crystal vases with gold gild—tacky as hell, but that appears to be Paulette’s decorating motif—but not a single picture frame.”

“You said Ted inherited money, right?” I asked Ida Belle.
 

“That’s what I heard.”

I went back to trusty Google. “Let’s do some digging on Ted. I figure Paulette was only in it for the paycheck, so we won’t find much of relevance on her.”

Ida Belle moved her chair over closer to me so that she could see the screen while Gertie poured us all a cup of coffee. I typed in a search of Ted’s name. Nothing. Tried a variation. Nothing again. So I started typing in every possible combination I could come up with for Ted and Paulette, but as far as Google was concerned, they were nonexistent.
 

Ida Belle shook her head. “Not a single thing out of all of that.”

“Is that normal?” Gertie asked, then slurped her coffee.

“It’s not completely unheard of,” I said. “Not everyone is into social media, but if there was really a big company sale and inheritance, you’d think there would be mention of his name somewhere.”

“What about The Sorcerer?” Gertie asked. “Surely he can find something on Ted.”

I perked up. Ida Belle’s online gaming friend had proven to be something of a wizard when it came to information-gathering. In fact, he made the CIA look rather amateurish.
 

Ida Belle shook her head. “He’s gone dark. Got picked up last week by a couple of guys in a black Cadillac.”

I stared. “He was kidnapped?”

Ida Belle snorted. “Only if the federal government can be accused of kidnapping. My guess is your people have him.”

“Crap.” If the CIA figured out even half of what the ten-year-old hacker was capable of, he’d never see daylight again.

“What about picture matching?” Gertie asked. “You know, like they do on that show
Catfish
?”

“They match pictures of fish?” I asked.

“No, it’s—never mind. You can upload a picture to Google and see if it matches anyone else on the Internet.”

“Oh!” I perked up. “That’s cool. Does anyone have a picture of Ted?”

Ida Belle and Gertie looked at each other and both shook their heads.

“Sorry,” Gertie said, “but why would anyone want one?”

“We never figured we’d need it,” Ida Belle agreed. “He didn’t even use his own photo for his election flyers. He had that strange cartoon drawing instead.”

“Can you think of anyone else who would have one that we could ask and not look suspicious?”

Ida Belle shook her head. “I can’t imagine anyone in my crew having something like that, and Walter’s not really the picture-taking type. I wouldn’t feel safe asking outside of that group of people.”

Gertie nodded. “Me either.”

I slumped back in my chair, frustrated that such a good idea would come to nothing.

“I know how we could get one, though,” Gertie said.

I shook my head. “Oh no. I’m not breaking into Ted’s house again, and besides, I just said earlier that I didn’t see any photos.”

“I’m not suggesting we break into Ted’s house…” Gertie said.

“Then what?”

Gertie glanced at Ida Belle, her face reddening a little. “Well, I mean, it’s not like Ted’s completely gone yet.”

I jumped up from my chair, instantly cluing in on her train of thought. “Are you insane? You’re suggesting we break into the church and take a picture of the body?”

Ida Belle brightened. “That’s a great idea.”

“Absolutely not.” I crossed my arms and gave both of them my stern look. “We are not breaking into a church that sits, I might add, across the street from the sheriff’s department, all to molest a dead body by taking pictures.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Gertie said. “Who said anything about molesting? We’ll just open the casket, take a quick picture, and leave. It’s not like you’re going to startle him with the flash or anything.”

I threw my hands in the air. “You think it’s a bad idea to ask people you’ve known all your life if they have a photo of Ted, but you think breaking into a church and defiling a casket is a good idea? On what planet does that compute?”

Gertie raised her hand. “Oh, oh, I know this one. Earth.” She smiled, obviously pleased with herself.

“Now we’re defiling a casket?” Ida Belle asked. “Make up your mind what our offense will be.”

“Your biggest offense will be committing the dumbest crime ever. How will it look if we’re caught inside the church?”

Ida Belle smiled. “And that’s why we’ll make sure we don’t get caught. Look, I appreciate your concern and your outrage, but don’t you think Ted himself would prefer that the real killer go to prison instead of me taking the rap for killing him?”

Double crap.

I flopped back down in my chair. Yeah, from what little I knew of the man, the real Ted would probably be handing us flashlights and crowbars and asking what the hell was taking so long.
 

“Gertie’s injured,” I said, throwing in the last vestige of an argument I had.

“Actually,” Gertie said, “my foot feels fine now. It may be a bit stiff tomorrow, but I’ll put some cream on it and I’ll be good to go.”

“Fine,” I said, knowing they were going to do it with or without me, and that with me, the odds of a successful getaway usually increased dramatically. “But we have to plan this carefully, you have to do everything exactly like I say, and we have to wait until after every light in Carter’s house is out and we’re certain he’s asleep.”

Ida Belle gave me a single nod and sat back down. “Midnight tonight then.”

I sighed. I hadn’t even recovered from my rooftop adventures and now we were planning on breaking into a church to get a photo of a body that one of us was likely going to be accused of murdering. I was going straight to hell for this one. I was sure of it.

“Hey, have either of you heard what the rush is to get Ted buried?” I asked.

Gertie nodded. “Rumor has it that Paulette is moving back east where her family is. That cousin Tony came down to help her settle things up and pack. At least, that’s what Marie heard from Celia’s crew.”

I frowned. “So if she’s going back east, why bury Ted here? Why not take the body back east where
his
family is?”

“According to Sinful Lady intelligence,” Ida Belle said, “Ted was estranged from his family and hasn’t been in touch with them since they moved to Sinful. Paulette says he was always clear with her that he never wanted to be around them again, even as a corpse.”

“That seems a little extreme,” Gertie said.

Thinking of my own nonexistent relationship that I’d had with my impossible-to-please and now-deceased father, I shook my head. “Not necessarily.”

Gertie gave me a strange look but before she could question me, Ida Belle said, “So the funeral is tomorrow at the Catholic church. Burial to follow at Sinful Cemetery. And my guess is Paulette will hightail it out of Sinful as soon as she can pack up that tacky decor of hers.”

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