Gators and Garters (Miss Fortune Mystery, #18)

by Jana Deleon

I’d found an apartment address, but the manager had told me, not so politely, that Nutters had run out on rent and if I saw him I was to tell him that Winky Bear never forgot a debt. The man I’d spoken to sounded like a heavy metal singer, practically growling into the phone, so I was sorely tempted to make a drive by the apartments and see what a man called Winky Bear but with a voice like thunder looked like.

I couldn’t imagine hiding away from the world, but then I’d traveled a lot of it and not the pleasant places, either. I could handle whatever was thrown at me. But for a hermit type, who’d never been out of the weeds, so to speak, a place like New Orleans was probably overwhelming. Quite frankly, based on some of the things I’d seen overseas in the sandbox, electricity could be overwhelming. A cell phone was straight-up the devil.

“So based on the very limited information we have on Silas, what do you think we’re walking into?” I asked. “Someone who shoots trespassers on sight,” Ida Belle said. “We’re gonna need to park right in the middle of the driveway or dirt patch or whatever serves as parking and walk with our hands in clear sight as we approach the house.” “Yep,” Gertie said. “And if there’s a warning shot or even an indiscernible yell or grunt, we get the heck out of there. I’d sooner mess with gators than one of those rooted-in Creoles.”

“I really hope he doesn’t shoot,” I said. “I’m not interested in killing anyone today. Well, most days, really. Unless they’re bad guys and they start it. Then I’m good.” Ida Belle grinned. “As long as you have your standards.”

“Our legal system definitely gets in the way sometimes,” Gertie said. “Makes everything harder and takes more time. The Old Testament was a lot more immediate.” “Well, it’s been a while since God burned bushes and parted seas,” Ida Belle said. “I think we’re going to have to work this without hoping for a lightning strike to come down on the bad guy.” “Probably so,” Gertie said. “But I’ve still got hope.”

“Sure as you don’t tell him, he’ll show up at your place in the middle of the night and scare ten lives off of Ally.” “He always texts first if it’s the middle of the night,” I said. “If I don’t answer, he doesn’t stop by.” “I thought he had a key,” Gertie said. “He does,” I said. “But he also dates a woman who is former CIA, sleeps with a gun, and has an itchy trigger finger when it comes to being ambushed.” “Smart man,” Ida Belle said. Gertie shook her head. “If you two are ever going to live together, you’re going to have to figure that one out. The man can’t sleep in his vehicle every time he has to work late and you’ve fallen asleep.” I felt my neck tense. “We are not moving in together.” I looked over at Ida Belle. “You know I blame you for this. Before you agreed to marry Walter, no one was pushing me toward anything permanent.” “You’ll get used to it,” Ida Belle said. “After thirty or forty years, most people won’t bother you anymore.” “Great,” I said. “Something to look forward to.”

“Is that an outhouse?” I asked. “Could be,” Ida Belle said. “Wouldn’t surprise me. If the plumbing went to crap, a guy like Silas wouldn’t pay to have it fixed. He’d just go back to basics.” “A water hose and an outhouse are not basics,” I said. “That’s primitive.”

“You think he was living with Molly?” Gertie asked. “Hard to say,” I said. “Molly didn’t strike me as the type that would let a man move in on her space but then she might have loved the guy.” “I don’t see how she could,” Gertie said. “I didn’t say it was healthy,” I said.

“You’re improving. I told you your taste buds would eventually adjust.” “To the food, maybe,” I said. “But not that atomic, fireball, nuclear explosion version of your cough syrup. I don’t know how people drink that and still breathe.” “You can’t right away,” Ida Belle said. “That’s the fun of it.”

“You don’t need an opening to intervene when your best friend is making a huge mistake,” Gertie said. “I butt in all the time and most of them are barely acquaintances.” “Lord, isn’t that the truth,” Ida Belle said.

“We manage the Swamp Bar all the time,” Gertie said. “How bad can it be?” “Don’t ask that,” Ida Belle said. “It’s like inviting God’s sense of humor while he’s angry. The outcome is never favorable for us.” “Well, there’s probably not an angry bear inside,” I said. “So that’s a plus.” The words had barely left my mouth when a man came hurtling through a window at the front of the bar and crashed onto the sidewalk. An even bigger man stepped up to the broken window and yelled something indiscernible at the one on the pavement. Fortyish. Six foot six. Three hundred pounds solid. Shaved head. Too many tattoos to count. No visible shortcomings. Lethal as heck if he wanted to be. “There’s your bear,” Gertie said. “Do you think that guy’s dead?” Ida Belle asked. “I hope not,” Gertie said. “It would mess up our questioning people if the cops show up.” “If the cops show up, there probably won’t be anyone left to question,” Ida Belle said. “It will look like a swarm of locusts leaving Egypt.” “Let’s go check,” I said. “I suppose we’re duty bound to call an ambulance if needed.” “If he’s dead can we hold off on the ambulance?” Gertie asked. “Just until the questioning part is over. And until I’ve had a chance to pee.” “You’re not going to use the restroom in there and then get into my SUV,” Ida Belle said. “We should probably be entering the place wearing hazmat suits.” “I’m wearing pants,” Gertie said. “It’s not like I’m going to roll naked on the bathroom floor, then strip down ag...

“You’re bleeding from your side,” I said, pointing at the dark stain on his shirt. “I had my appendix removed a couple days ago,” he said. “Probably tore a stitch or something.” “Or something,” I said. “Maybe you should have that checked.” “My sister makes curtains for a living,” he said as he struggled to get up. “She can sew me up good as any doctor.” “And probably offers a variety of thread color,” I said. “It sounds like an excellent plan.”

“I need a beer and to see a man thrown out a window,” Gertie said. “I’m halfway there.”

“Drunk people usually like to laugh. And old ladies being tough always amuses them. Look at Betty White. That woman is four thousand and eight years old and still killing it,” Gertie said. “I’m just a little surprised that you’d refer to yourself as old,” I said. “Oh, I’m not old,” Gertie said. “But they think I am. Trust me, the more years that pass, the younger you realize you are.” “That makes absolutely no sense,” Ida Belle said.

“You’ve definitely got the build for it,” Gertie said. “And good-looking guys always get the sponsors.” He grinned at her. “You saying I’m good-looking?” “I’d say anyone in this bar was good-looking, just for safety reasons,” Gertie said. “But yeah, you could pull off an advertising campaign.”

“I like you,” Gertie said. “If I were twenty years younger—” “You could still be his mother,” Ida Belle said. He grinned. “I have a feeling you’ve left a wake of broken hearts. I don’t think I could have handled you twenty years ago.” “You can’t handle her now,” I said.

“Men in this bar are sensitive about their women,” I said. Glenn looked confused and I pointed to the window. “Oh yeah, that,” Glenn said. “That’s just Tank being a fool. He keeps tearing up things over her, I’m going to eventually have a new bar on his dime.” “So if he gets that angry, why do people keep insulting his wife?” I asked. “You mean, the woman who cleaned out his bank accounts, set his clothes on fire in his truck, and then ran off with his brother?” Glenn asked. “Good Lord,” Ida Belle said. “Doesn’t sound like anything people made up could be worse than the truth.” He nodded. “But if old Tank admitted that, then he’d have to face the rest of it. Easier to stay drunk, fish, and pay for repairs to my bar.”

“Most women had his number right quick but then a couple months ago, he showed up with a younger one.” “How young?” Gertie asked. “Twenty-one,” he said. “I ID’d her. I don’t want trouble in here.” I looked at the broken window again. “I don’t want that kind of trouble in here,” he said.

I climbed into Ida Belle’s SUV, somewhat pleased that we’d made it out of The Bar without incident. It was both surprising and shocking. Usually places like The Bar combined with people like Gertie led only to trouble. The fact that Ida Belle didn’t even wait for us to put on our seat belts before hauling it out of there told me she was looking to make sure it stayed that way.

I wish we had a bug in their room.” “That’s not a bad idea,” I said. “Assuming the room next to them is empty.” Ida Belle shook her head. “The last time you tried that one, you fell through the ceiling and landed on a naked dude who thought you were the prostitute he ordered.” “So I’ll knock first,” I said.

I flipped the switch on the lamp and choked back a cry. It was him! The same skinny glowing-white dude I’d almost landed on the last time I’d been here. But this time, he wasn’t naked. Exactly. He was standing in the middle of the bed wearing a mask and a cape. A Hello Kitty mask and matching G-string lay on the nightstand next to me. “You!” His eyes widened. “No way! This is not going to happen again.” “It didn’t happen last time,” I said. “And pull that cape around the important parts before I shoot them off.” My tone must have scared him into action because he flipped the cape around to his front like something you’d see in a vampire movie. Except the back of this cape had lettering on it that spelled out Super Lover. “I ought to shoot you for that cape,” I said. “Get down off that bed and find some pants.” “You broke into my room, threatening me with death if I don’t dress to your liking? This is my room. What are you doing here?” “None of your business. Just get covered with something that’s not so offensive. Or a lie.” He flushed deep red. “You don’t know anything about me so you don’t know what’s a lie.” “I know if you’re paying for it, there’s nothing super about it.”

“Thank God Mannie cleared that hedge the last time,” Gertie said. “It would have taken you forever to wax the scratches out of the paint.” “As opposed to how long it’s going to take to get the stench and stain of an entire dumpster off of it?” Ida Belle complained. Gertie waved a hand in dismissal. “Drama.” “I’ve got your drama,” Ida Belle said. “Can we please just get out of here and hose down this vehicle before Carter gets here?” I asked. “He’s going to take one look at this setup and I’m going to be the first phone call he makes.” “There are other reasons for dumpsters exploding that don’t involve me,” Gertie said. “Like what?” I asked. “An asteroid,” Gertie suggested. “Because asteroids are more common than your purse disasters?” Ida Belle said. “Might as well go with alien invasion or a Marvel comic book setup.” “Well, there is a guy in a cape back in the motel,” I said. They both stared.

“You know Carter will take this call because there was an explosion. When he finds that guy trussed up and rolled, he’s going to lose it.” “Not as much as when he unrolls the guy and sees what he’s wearing,” Ida Belle said. “Or not wearing,” Gertie said. “I’m beginning to wonder if the sheriff’s department should have to offer hazard pay for seeing naked people,” I said. “The taxpayers couldn’t afford it,” Gertie said. “Do you know how many random naked people they run across in a year? And trust me, it’s never the people you want to see naked.” “I don’t want to see any of them naked,” Ida Belle said. “What about Walter?” Gertie asked. “He’s not random,” Ida Belle said. “But I still wouldn’t want a random sighting. I like to be aware that nakedness is coming.”

“So if you popped over to the store one night after hours, and Walter was doing inventory in the nude, that wouldn’t get you all excited?” Gertie asked. “Why in the world would the man do inventory in the nude?” Ida Belle asked. “Where would he keep his highlighter?” “If I could just continue,” I said before any discussion could ensue about highlighter placement.

“So what do we do now?” Gertie asked. “Are you going to tell Carter about Dexter’s girlfriend and the longbow thing? I don’t guess you can talk about the conversation you overheard at the motel as you sorta broke in on that naked guy and tied him up.” “Not to mention you blew the motel dumpster sky-high with your bag of things nightmares are made of,” Ida Belle said to Gertie. “You have a rocket launcher and he got over it,” Gertie said. “Because without it, Fortune would have died,” Ida Belle said. Gertie waved a hand in dismissal. “Details.”

“Then he shouldn’t be working there,” Gertie said. “Everything about that place is trouble. We’re just shining a light on it.” “You set off a bomb on it,” Ida Belle said. “Twice.” “Details,” Gertie said again. “And this time it would have blown us to bits if Fortune hadn’t thrown it out of the car,” Ida Belle said. “And so help me God, if you say ‘details’ I’m going to shoot you right here in this car wash and pitch you out into those jets where all the forensic evidence will be washed away.”

“I really wish he’d just do that shady small-town thing and let you in on things,” Gertie said. “You’re not any more likely to be injured doing your job than he is doing his.” “Given that Carter doesn’t spend much time around you and your handbags, that’s not exactly accurate,” Ida Belle said.

“Naked Dude ID’d me,” I said. “How could he?” Gertie asked. “There are plenty of hot blondes running around southern Louisiana.” “Probably not many that can single-handedly immobilize a guy in a comforter,” Ida Belle said. “He knew my bra size,” I said. “Gross.” They both spoke at once.

Gertie was always saying if she were younger she’d go after some guy, but I had the opposite thought. If I were older, I’d be shoving Ida Belle in front of a bus and going for Walter.

“What are you meeting Carter in town for? You having a bite over at the café?” “I wish. Unfortunately, I’m in trouble.” He chuckled. “You don’t say.” “I know. Shocking, right?” “What are you in trouble over this time or can you say?” “A naked guy tied up in a comforter and an exploding dumpster.” Walter’s eyes widened. “That sounds like the start of the kind of joke you tell in a bar.” “It kinda ends that way too. Let’s just say it’s been an interesting day.” “So this naked guy—I thought the bachelorette party was this Friday.” “It is. And trust me, no one wants that guy rolled up in the comforter dancing there. Not even Gertie. We were actually on a case. There was this conversation I wanted to overhear at the motel and things didn’t go smoothly.” He stared at me for a couple seconds, then started to laugh. “The three of you are going to be the death of Carter.” “What about you? Your lady is right in that mix.”

“I see Carter pulling in,” Walter said. “You need any ammo?” “Not this time,” I said. “I can probably talk my way out of it.” He laughed again. “I just bet you can.”

“Close the door,” he said. “You going to arrest me?” I asked as I complied. “Because if so, I’m going to regret turning down Walter’s offer of ammo.” “I just don’t want anyone else to overhear and then wonder why I didn’t arrest you. I’ll deal with my traitorous uncle later.” “Fair enough. Did the naked guy want to press charges?” “I’m sure he would if he knew who interrupted his…whatever the heck that was. But when I pointed out that everything—everything—had to go on record, he changed his mind.” “I’m sort of surprised given how outraged he was.” “Yeah, well, his date showed up shortly after I got him out of the comforter and back into clothes. Real clothes.” I laughed. “Nothing like a hooker to put a damper on filing a police report.” “I gathered from our naked friend that this isn’t the first time you’ve interrupted his cape-wearing adventures.” “I don’t know anything about his adventures or the cape,” I said, putting on my best blank expression.

“I was hoping for longer.” “How much longer?” “Until he died?” “Ha! Maybe he’ll do you a favor and go early.” “You haven’t met the man. He’s mean as a snake. People like that always live forever.”

“You said he saw you running away, right?” “Yeah, but I was wearing a Hello Kitty mask that I, uh…found?”

“Are you saying I was too skinny?” “Not at all. You were extremely fit and lean. I wish I had that body for a day just to see how it felt, but you don’t have to maintain that level of leanness now. I’m not saying let yourself go—not that you would—but you don’t have to be ready to take on the world.” “I ran from a bear yesterday and an alligator the day before.” Ally’s eyes widened. “Okay, then maybe keep up the running regimen.” “It’s either that or shoot more.”

“Nothing’s biting but the heat,” the first man said as we approached. “Then why are you fishing?” Gertie asked. “Because it beats sitting in the house with my wife,” he said. “Been married to the woman for fifty-six years. There’s nothing we need to say that hasn’t already been said at least ten times.”

Age somewhere between Gertie and the grim reaper, five foot ten, a hundred fifty pounds including the suit and dress shoes, maybe the wallet. No muscle tone that I could see. Threat level less than zero unless I considered possibly having to perform CPR a threat.

“I’m the only one working in this office so there’s no other option,” he said. “Transferring to a small office was my idea of semiretirement.” I wondered briefly if his plan was to move from retirement straight to hospice but figured it was rude to ask.

I pulled out my phone and took a quick shot of it just as the bell above the door jangled. Ida Belle shoved the receipts at me, and I used my arm to pull them all in the box, barely getting it back under the counter before Celia stepped up, frowning. “Don’t tell me Walter has left you in charge,” she said. “As a matter of fact, he has,” I said. “Is there something I can help you with—prune juice maybe? You have that blocked look.” “How about the jaws of life?” Gertie said. “We can get that stick out of her butt.” Celia turned beet red and tried to reply but only managed a sputter. Finally she whirled around and headed out of the shop, slamming the door behind her. Walter appeared a couple seconds later and I gave him the side-eye. “You knew Celia was coming in, didn’t you?” I asked. “That’s why you let us dig through the receipts.” Walter grabbed a rag and started polishing the cash register. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Gertie grinned. “Well played.” “Do you ladies need any groceries to go with your illegal activities?” he asked. “No, I think we’re good,” I said. “We have illegal booze, Cuban cigars, and the usual store of dynamite.” “You have Cuban cigars?” he asked. I waved a hand in dismissal. “You wouldn’t be interested in breaking the law. Forget I said anything.” “The law isn’t exactly up-to-date on certain things,” Walter said. Gertie shook her head. “So easily converted. Today, it’s cigars. Tomorrow, it will be knockoff purses and hand grenade display...

“Then I’ll drop you off,” Ida Belle said as she pulled away. “I’m going home and washing my SUV. A real wash.” “I probably have some canning to do,” Gertie said. “No, you don’t,” Ida Belle said. “It’s hot as Hades and everything is dead. You won’t be canning for months. What you will be doing is helping me wash my SUV.” “But I hate washing cars,” Gertie said. “How would you know?” Ida Belle asked. “You’ve never washed yours.” “I’ve washed my car,” Gertie protested. “Who was president when it happened?” Ida Belle asked. “Morgan Freeman,” Gertie said. “Good movie,” I said and Ida Belle gave me a cutting look. “What?” I asked. “It was a good movie.”

I was on my fourth beer and still no closer to an answer on the case when Carter dropped into the chair next to me. He pointed at the empty bag of Cheetos and the equally not-full bag of Oreos and shook his head. “You ate dinner without me,” he said. “That’s what happens when you don’t keep regular schedules.” He smiled. “That’s what happens when you’re stewing over something. It’s ninety-five degrees out here and you’re collecting quite a pile of debris there.” “This is just from the last hour,” I said. “And I probably shouldn’t admit that.” “Impressive. We have a hot dog eating contest at the fall fair. You could win a year’s supply of wieners.” I made a face. “Why is it always hot dogs? If it was funnel cake, I’d be first to sign up.” “If it was funnel cake, diabetes would clog up the funeral home in a single day.”

“I would think not with Carter staying over,” Gertie said. “And who told you that?” I asked again. “We all have our sources,” Gertie said. I narrowed my eyes at her. “You’ve made friends with Ronald, haven’t you?” She feigned an innocent look. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Oh good God,” Ida Belle said. “Like we needed more crazy in our lives.” “Has he been feeding that gator in my yard?” I asked. “No,” Gertie said. I stared at her. “I swear he hasn’t,” she said. “I mean, he’s baked casseroles and stood out there for a while, but he said he hasn’t seen Godzilla since that day he ate the terrorist.” “And what about you?” Ida Belle asked. “I’ve seen him when I went out fishing,” Gertie said. “But across the lake.” “If he gets hungry and lazy, he’ll be back here begging,” I said. “Last time we fed him a terrorist,” Gertie said. “Maybe he decided he didn’t like the menu here.” “I didn’t feed him a terrorist,” I said. “He just happened to be in my yard.” Gertie shrugged. “He was trying to kill you. Godzilla was hungry. Worked out well for everyone. Except maybe the terrorist.” “Maybe?” “You were going to shoot him anyway,” Gertie said. “It was just a matter of time.” It was a valid point so I couldn’t really argue.

“Boredom is the worst,” Gertie said. “People can’t go and get themselves murdered just so you’ll have something to do,” Ida Belle said. “Some of them could,” Gertie said. “I could make a list.”

I didn’t do much the rest of the day. Gertie was busy preparing for the upcoming party, and Ida Belle was probably over at the church praying or begging her doctor to commit her for the weekend. At the very least, infect her with a twenty-four-hour flu. Carter was busy wrapping up the paperwork on the case and I had absolutely nothing to do or avoid. Well, except laundry. I always had laundry to avoid.

The good news was Ida Belle didn’t have to worry about Gertie wearing the camo miniskirt to her wedding. The bad news was she was wearing it now. And that whole tuck-under thing wasn’t working too well as Gertie had a typical white woman booty, which meant very little. The skirt ended a couple inches below the relevant parts but as she bent over to pick up a wayward pizza, I saw that all bets were off. “Doesn’t lime green clash with camo?” I asked. Gertie straightened up and whirled around. “How did you know my panties were lime green?” “How do you think?”

But her shoes were the real kicker. They were thigh-high black patent leather boots with a platform heel, giving her an extra six inches. I gave her thirty minutes max before she twisted an ankle and spent the rest of the night on crutches. “How in the world did you get in those?” I asked, pointing to the boots. “Myrtle helped. Myrtle and a little baby oil.” “Wouldn’t that make your feet slide?” “No. I got the boots a half size too small to help with the slipping. Trust me, I’ve done my research.” “Been talking online to strippers again?” “They have a lot of beauty tips. I mean, they have to look perfect everywhere and without the benefit of filters and Photoshop.”

“How long until the cops get here?” I asked Ida Belle. “They’re not coming,” Myrtle said, overhearing my question. “Carter already told dispatch to ignore all calls originating about this address.” “Smart,” I said. “Carter doesn’t want any part of the things happening here.” “I’m not sure I want any part of things happening here,” Ida Belle said. “That stage scares me. I’m not doing karaoke.” “I don’t think Gertie would qualify karaoke as a big surprise,” I said. “That scares me even more,” Ida Belle said.

Ricky walked to the center of the stage and in a single move, yanked off his entire suit, revealing red bikini bottoms and a really great set of abs. The women went wild. Ida Belle gripped my arm and leaned in. “We might have a stampede,” she said. “I might start it,” I said. She stared at me for a second, then laughed. “He is really good-looking.”

Ricky started dancing and then paused and we saw what the cape was for—apparently, Ricky was also a magician. First, he pulled flowers out of…well, somewhere. I didn’t want to speculate.

Gertie had climbed up on the stage and was dancing with Ricky. It probably would have been better on the eyes if the cape had been there to block some things. A rap song came on and Gertie bent over and started shaking. “Is she having a seizure?” I asked. “She’s twerking!” one of the Sinful Ladies yelled. Ida Belle and I looked at each other and spoke at the same time. “No, she’s not.” Then we collapsed in laughter again.