Hurricane Force (A Miss Fortune Mystery Book 7) (4 page)

Ally jumped up and went to talk to a couple of the waitresses at the café who were huddled in the choir loft. Walter and Carter got up and started walking the perimeter of the church, double-checking windows and doors to make sure they were secure. Ida Belle and Gertie sat slumped in their pews without so much as a twitch.

“Seriously?” I asked, staring down at them. “This doesn’t bother you at all?”

“We’re old,” Ida Belle said.
 

“I’m not old,” Gertie said. “I’m just fearless.”

“You’re so old you’ve forgotten to be scared,” Ida Belle said.
 

The building shook as a second shock wave hit it. I looked up at the pulpit, which was swaying a bit from side to side. “You’re sure there’s nothing to be concerned about?”

“Look at it this way,” Ida Belle said. “If there
was
something to worry about, what could you do?”

I stared at her for a moment. Hell, she was right.
 

I plopped down onto the pew next to her. “How long do these things usually last?”

“The worst of the storm is usually over in a couple hours,” Gertie said. “We can have tornadoes for days, though. Tornadoes are sneaky. They don’t announce their arrival all over the evening news like hurricanes do.”

“Remember,” Ida Belle said, “we’re not getting hit straight-on. Otherwise, we’d be sitting in a casino somewhere in Oklahoma. Worst case, we’ll probably have no power for a couple days. Best case, it will be back on tomorrow.”

“There’s no best case where the power stays on?” I asked.

Thunder boomed overhead and lightning struck the ground somewhere near the church. It was so loud, it made my ears ring. The lights blinked once, then went off, casting us into darkness. A couple seconds later, flashlights clicked on all over the church.

“Never mind my last question,” I said. I turned on my flashlight and cast it over the church, spotting Carter and Walter hurrying for the front doors. “Where are they going in such a hurry?”

“To see if something’s on fire or if someone needs help,” Ida Belle said.

I shook my head. “Surely no one is crazy enough to be out in this?”

Ida Belle raised her eyebrows and looked over at Gertie.

“One time,” Gertie said. “You go out into a hurricane one time and you never hear the end of it.”

“You heard more about it from your insurance company than you did from me,” Ida Belle said. “I was too busy laughing.”

“Should I even ask?” I asked.

“Probably not,” Ida Belle said, “but since you did, someone forgot they left their bass boat at the dock behind the butcher shop and decided to go retrieve it. She made it halfway down the driveway when Dorothy’s oak tree got hit by lightning and fell right onto the trunk of Gertie’s car, and since she always backs up with her hand on the gear shifter, she was startled into shifting the car from Reverse to Drive.”

“I did not shift,” Gertie argued. “The car did that itself.”

“Sure it did,” Ida Belle said. “Anyway, when the car shifted itself, it must have also given itself gas, because it launched forward, right into Dorothy’s porch.”

Gertie crossed her arms. “I never liked the tree or that porch.”

I grinned. “What happened to the boat?”

Ida Belle waved a hand in dismissal. “That boat was probably halfway to Arkansas before she ever climbed in the car.”

“I’m glad Scooter hauled my airboat up to the back of the house with his four-wheeler,” I said. “I hadn’t even thought about it going on tour.”

“I will never let anything happen to that boat,” Ida Belle said.

Her seriousness was just a bit scary. I was fairly certain Ida Belle loved my airboat as much as Walter loved Ida Belle. I heard banging behind me and turned to see Carter and Walter struggling to open the door. I jumped up from the pew and hurried to the back of the church, putting my shoulder on the door next to Walter’s. “Try it again,” I said.

Carter nodded. “One, two, three!”
 

On three, we shoved as hard as we could and the door flew open. The blast of wind hit me so hard, I had to take a step back to keep my balance. Raindrops felt like needles as they pelted my face. I threw one hand over my eyes and stepped forward to look outside with Walter and Carter. Walter pointed to a car across the street with smoke coming out of its hood. It was empty, and with the downpour, there was no risk of the fire spreading.

Carter nodded, and we grabbed the edge of the door to pull it shut. We were about two feet from done when one of those sonic blasts of wind descended on us and ripped the door from our grasp. I felt something thin and solid slap against my face and lowered my head, hoping that nothing heavier was blowing in the gale, like a telephone pole or a fire truck.

It seemed as if we struggled forever, but we finally got the door closed. A flurry of something that felt like leaves fluttered around us, dropping to the floor. I looked down and realized all of the leaves were rectangular, and frowned. I picked one up and shone my flashlight on it, then shoved it at Walter and Carter.

“It’s money,” I said. I flashed my light across the floor, illuminating the carpet of damp green hundred-dollar bills.

“What the hell?” Walter grabbed the hundred from my hand and held it right up to his face. “It’s real. This is real.”

“The nearest bank is a good twenty miles away,” I said. “Could the storm carry money that far?”

Carter frowned. “Not likely.”

“Also not likely that the nearest bank is twenty miles away,” Walter said. “The nearest
commercial
bank might be that far, but I bet a lot of these old-timers have cash hidden all over this town.”

“You think someone’s retirement fund blew away in the storm?” I asked. “That would suck on all kinds of levels.”

“Nothing we can do about it now,” Carter said. “I’ll get a trash can from one of the Sunday school rooms. Let’s pick this up and hide it. If people catch sight of it, they’ll be running out into the storm, swearing God was sending them money.”

We gathered up the wet money and crammed it in a trash can that Carter promptly stuck in a closet in one of the rooms off the back of the church. I shoved one of the bills into my pocket for closer inspection later on. The whole idea of money blowing around in a storm had my instincts on high alert. Something felt off. More off than normal Sinful oddities. And unfortunately, my “off meter” hadn’t been wrong since I’d set foot in the town.

“I wonder how much more is out there,” I said.
 

Carter shook his head. “I just hope no one else catches sight of it.”
 

We made our way back to the pews, and I sank down in between Ida Belle and Gertie. I glanced back to make sure Carter and Walter weren’t anywhere close before pulling the bill out and using my phone to illuminate it.
 

“There’s money blowing around in the storm,” I whispered. “A bunch of it flew in when that last blast hit.”

Gertie grabbed my hand and pulled it over toward her face. “This is a hundred-dollar bill. You’re telling me there’s a hurricane of hunskis out there?”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Ida Belle said. “It could be a hurricane of gold bricks and it wouldn’t be worth going out into that storm.”

“Maybe not right now,” Gertie said, “but bet your butt, I’m going to be the first out that door when the storm breaks. God’s making it rain!”

A little girl, probably six, a couple pews in front of us turned around and nodded. “Of course God’s making it rain, Ms. Gertie. Who else would it be?”

“Lower your voice,” Ida Belle said, “or we’ll have a stampede of idiots running outside.”

I pulled the bill out of Gertie’s hand and took a closer look at it. It looked legit and the paper felt right, but something about it still bothered me.
 

“You’ve got that look,” Ida Belle said. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head. “Nothing that I can point to, but something doesn’t feel right. I know that’s a weak basis for concern…”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Ida Belle said. “I’d say someone with your abilities and training are attuned to things that aren’t quite what they appear to be. If you think something’s off, then I have no doubt something is.”

“This is Sinful,” Gertie said. “How would we know what’s off and what’s
off
, if you know what I mean?”

I shoved the bill back in my pocket. “She’s right. Nothing in this town is what I’d consider normal, and I’ve been feeling nervous about the storm. That’s not my norm, so my instincts are probably skewed.”

Ida Belle nodded but didn’t look convinced. I didn’t blame her. I wasn’t convinced either. My cell phone vibrated and I pulled it out of my jeans pocket, surprised I had any signal at all. I checked the display.
 

Harrison!

My CIA partner was the only person besides Director Morrow who knew where I was and how to reach me. His usual method of keeping me in the loop was email, cleverly disguised as discussions about weather, crops, and his dad. He never risked calling unless it was dire.
 

No way could I take the call here. I couldn’t risk anyone overhearing me. I switched to text mode.

Can’t answer at the moment. We’re having a hurricane.

A couple seconds later, his reply came back.

Put the damn drink down and answer the phone.

I sighed.

Not a drink. A REAL hurricane. I’m holed up in a church with a bunch of people. Check the news.

I pressed Send and waited. I didn’t have to wait long.

WTF Redding. Find a closet or confessional or something where you can talk.

My back tightened. Something was wrong. Harrison wouldn’t insist unless that was the case. “It’s Harrison,” I told Ida Belle and Gertie. “He insists on talking to me now.”

They cast worried glances at each other.
 

“On the right side of the church, in the door past the piano is a single restroom,” Ida Belle said. “Use that. I don’t know that you’ll get enough signal to talk, but at least you won’t be sharing the room with other women like the main bathroom.”

I shoved my phone in my pocket and set off down the aisle for the restroom. It was located on a back corner of the church, and the outside walls almost hummed with the force of the wind hitting them. I locked myself in, pulled out my phone and dialed. It took three tries before I got a connection, and even then, I could barely hear Harrison.

“I can barely hear you,” I said, “so talk loud, and fast. I don’t know how long this connection will last.”

“It sounds like you’re in a wind tunnel.”

“I am in a wind tunnel. It’s a hurricane.”

“You were serious about that?”

“Yes, and I’m serious about losing signal. Hurry up!”

“Your risk assessment just went from high to duck now.”

I felt a chill run through me. “What happened?”

“Some counterfeit money turned up at a casino in New Orleans. It’s almost a perfect match for the bills used to make the deal with Ahmad that we were working when you blew your cover.”

My grip tightened so hard on the phone that my fingers started to throb. “You’re sure?”

“Positive. The lab has done at least ten comparisons on the bills. The new ones are slightly cleaner, but the base workmanship is the same.”

“What are the flaws?”

“The main one to look for is at the corner of the right eye. Remember how that section looked like it had been done in a hurry on the other bills? Well, it’s much better now, but there’s still a flaw at the edge.”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the hundred, then shone my flashlight on it, drawing it as close as possible to my face. Was that a break in the pattern in the corner of the eye? I needed a magnifying glass to be sure.

Or maybe I didn’t. Maybe I already knew.

###

Ida Belle and Gertie looked up anxiously at me as I made my way back up the aisle and took a seat between them. Carter and Walter were checking a window at the back of the church and most everyone else had drifted off to sleep.

“What’s wrong?” Ida Belle asked.
 

I told them what Harrison said.

Gertie’s eyes widened. “You don’t think the money in the storm is the same money, do you?”

“I can’t see the bill well enough to be sure, but…”

“You had a bad feeling to begin with,” Ida Belle said. “I’m sure you’re right.”

“But how can that be?” Gertie asked. “How could he have found you? I know you’re not exactly low-profile in Sinful, but Sinful is not exactly high-profile around the world.”

“I don’t have any answers,” I said. “Maybe it’s a coincidence.”

“You don’t believe that for a minute,” Ida Belle said.

“No, I really don’t.” I blew out a breath. “When we were tracking new buyers, there was one that we thought would receive shipment through the Gulf of Mexico. New Orleans is one of the logical places to conduct that kind of transaction. Boxes of cargo on large ships tend to go unnoticed when there are a lot of them.”