Soldiers of Fortune (13 page)

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Authors: Jana DeLeon

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Romance - Humor - Louisiana

BOOK: Soldiers of Fortune
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“Have either of you ever met this Bob?” I asked as we headed down the highway.

“No,” Ida Belle said. “He has a reputation for building some of the best airboats around. After today, I’d definitely agree with that.”

“I hope he wasn’t strong-armed into giving me the boat,” I said. “I don’t want any problems with an Hebert, even if he’s not part of the family business.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s in it up to his neck,” Ida Belle said. “In their line of work, money laundering always comes in handy, and boats are high-dollar items. And remember, Bob builds his own boats, so no inventory straight from the factory to trace. Easier to run cash through the bank for fake sales without getting caught.”

I nodded. That made sense and lowered my chances of coming face-to-face with a resentful business owner who had to give away his product. “So what are we going to do about this Nelson problem?”
 

We spent the rest of the drive discussing the possibilities, but unraveling the mare’s nest of Celia, Nelson, and the newly introduced hooker was currently out of our reach. We were still trying to come up with something other than “wait for the audit” when I turned off the highway and onto the road that led to the boat store.

After about twenty yards, I decided that “road” might have been a stretch. This was more like the path to the Swamp Bar—no shoulder, constructed of rocks over dirt, and potholes you could lose a small child or large dog in. Cattails and weeds grew right up to the edge of the road, and occasionally slapped the side of the Jeep. I was thrilled when the boat shop came into view around a corner about a half mile onto the path.

While the condition of the road was expected, the shop was a surprise. Fairly new construction, all brick, with stained brown trim. Behind it stretched a wide channel with a bunch of airboats docked right behind the store. I parked next to a shiny new black Cadillac, figuring it belonged to Little. I peered into the car as I exited the Jeep, but it was empty.

“He must be inside,” I said.

“You go in first,” Ida Belle said. “He’ll probably want to keep things looking casual, especially as it looks like there’s some customers inside.” She gestured to the trucks littering the parking area.
 

I nodded and headed inside the shop. A beefy man with the same face I’d seen on the website looked up as the door chimed and smiled as he made his way over.

Forty-five years old. Six feet two. Three hundred ten pounds. High blood pressure. Bad knees. Threat level low except for the Hebert part of the equation.

“Fortune,” he said as he extended his hand. “It’s good to see you again.” He winked at me, and I knew the show was for the other patrons. “Are you enjoying your new boat?”

“I love it,” I said. No show required on my part. Despite the fact that Ida Belle did her best to take years off my life, I still thought the boat was one of the coolest things ever. “I took it out this morning for a spin with some friends. It is seriously fast. You build a great product.”

His smile extended and this time, it was genuine. “Thank you. We pride ourselves on building the best boats in southeast Louisiana. I’m glad it’s working out for you.”

A much older man working behind the counter yelled and Bob held up one finger. “Sorry, we’re a little busy right now. I need to go handle this, but let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”

“Thanks,” I said.

As he walked away, I scanned the store and spotted Little at a table in a sitting area at the back of building, drinking coffee and reading a hunting magazine. I headed his direction and he looked up and gestured toward the chair across from him.

“Is hunting a hobby of yours?” I asked as I sat.

“It used to be.”

“What did you hunt?”

He smiled. “Nothing you can talk about in magazines.”

“Oh.” Stupid question.

The door chimed and Little looked over as Ida Belle and Gertie walked inside. “I see your soldiers are accompanying you.”

I nodded. “We headed out first thing this morning to the site where the lab exploded, which was possible thanks to you and the awesome airboat you supplied.”

“So you like the boat?”

“The boat is incredible. I don’t think I’ve had that much fun since, well, I can’t remember when.”

“I’m glad you like it. Airboats are particularly suited for the terrain here, and we didn’t know what kind of obstacles you might run up against. You seem to get yourself in situations of pursuit. We wanted to give you the best advantage we could.”

“You definitely did that.” If the bad guys wanted to chase me on water, bring it on. The only thing beating that boat was a bullet.

“So you three got right on things, huh? And you already need my help with something. That’s encouraging. Tell me what you’ve found.”

“A way to identify the cooker.”

His eyes widened. “So quickly? That
is
impressive. What do you need from me?”

“Help with the actual identification part.” I pulled the ziplock bag out of my pocket and stretched my hand under the table toward Little.

He took the bag and opened his hand, keeping it below the table line. He raised one eyebrow and looked at me. “You’ve just been carrying it around in your pocket like that?”

“Sure. It’s not like I’m going to rub the ridges off of it or something.”

He gave me a respectful nod. “You’re one unflappable broad. You know it?”

“Thanks.”

“You ever want to ditch the ole card catalog and take on some work that gets a little more risky than overdue books and pays a hell of a lot more, you let me know. Our organization could use a woman with the smarts and skills you got.”

I held in a smile. If he only knew exactly how overqualified I was for the position he had in mind, he probably wouldn’t be smiling at me. “If I’m ever looking for that kind of career change, you’ll be the first person I call.”

He nodded. “I take it you need me to run the print?”

“Yeah, with the whole Nelson deal, we lost our contact at the sheriff’s department.”

“You had a contact who would have run the print, even though you’re dating the deputy?”

“She’s a good friend of Ida Belle and Gertie’s.”

He laughed. “So they’ve had a mole inside the sheriff’s department? Beautiful.”

“Until today.”

“What happened to her?”

“Nelson replaced her with a hooker.”

He stared at me for a moment, probably waiting for the punch line, but when none was forthcoming, he shook his head. “You’re not joking.”

“I couldn’t make that up if I wanted to.”

“This whole issue with Nelson and the new mayor could present a lot of problems for Big and me. We’re watching the situation very closely. Rest assured, if that election audit doesn’t change things, we will.”

I nodded. I had a really good idea how the Heberts would go about enacting change, and it would probably involve a ceremony at the graveyard. I thought Celia was a bitch and a complete nutter who couldn’t have a consistent feeling or thought from minute to minute, but that didn’t mean I wanted her dead. If Marie knew just how much was riding on her audit, she’d probably have a heart attack.

“I have someone that can handle this,” Little said and stuck the finger in his suit pocket.

“And you’ll let me know what he finds?”

“Of course. This is a promising start, but it’s not the end. That cooker wasn’t working alone. We need to know who he was in business with before they fill the vacancy and rebuild.”

“Great. Do you need an email or something? I can set up a fake one.”

“I don’t like to leave an electronic trail. I’ll have someone deliver the paperwork to you when I receive it.”

“Your delivery boy isn’t going to drug my roommate and break into my kitchen, is he?”

Little grinned. “If I told him how you dressed to confront intruders, he’d insist on it. But the answer is no. The drop will be during normal waking hours but unnoticeable as anything suspect. You have my word on that.”

“Great.”

“Are you working any other angles?”

“We found a matchbook from the Swamp Bar at the explosion site.”

Little grimaced. “That place. I keep telling Big we should open a competing bar—one with a little more class. The place is full of petty criminals and scumbags.”

“Mostly your clients?”

“Touché.”
 

“Well, I’m hoping the print trace will narrow down the scope a bit. Investigating everyone who goes to the bar would take a lifetime and manpower we don’t have.”

“Good. Anything else going on?”

“Sorta. I mean, it’s a real long shot, but we’re chaperoning the dance tonight.”

He frowned. “The teen dance? I don’t think I get the connection.”

“We figured if someone’s dealing in Sinful, teens would know.”

“Because they’re targeted buyers for dealers. I see. Well, in that case, I’m hoping you come up empty.”

“Me too. Honestly, the three of us are hoping this problem was just getting started, and that we can stop it from gaining traction.”

“You get me the information I need. I’ll make sure there’s no traction.”

“Then I best get going. Thanks again for the boat.”

“Enjoy. And be careful. Big and I aren’t the only ones who’ve noticed your strange choice of pastimes. There’s talk in certain circles.”

“I’ll be careful,” I said as I rose from my chair. “Thanks.”

Great. I came to Sinful to hide from the giant target on my back only to whip up a brand-new target with a different group of shooters. Not that it surprised me. Sinful wasn’t exactly New York City. My actions were bound to make rounds in the criminal gossip circles, especially now that it was fairly common knowledge that I was seeing Carter on a personal basis.

Ida Belle and Gertie were at the cashier when I crossed the store. Gertie took a receipt from the older clerk and dragged a large plastic bag off the counter. “What did you buy?” I asked.
 

“A diving mask,” Gertie said. “It will keep my eyes from drying out the next time Ida Belle tries to kill us in the boat.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” I said.

“Tell her what else is in the bag,” Ida Belle said.

I looked down at the bag, which was far too large and saggy to hold only a dive mask. “Do I want to know?”

Gertie opened the bag and I peered inside at the large cardboard box with a huge inflatable alligator on the side.
 

“It’s one of those that you tow behind a boat,” Gertie said, her eyes lighting up. “I’ve always wanted to ride one of these.”

“Let me get this straight,” I said. “You’re convinced that Ida Belle is trying to kill us with the boat, but you want to sit on a piece of plastic filled with air and let her pull you down the bayou…where the real alligators are also floating?”

Ida Belle lifted her hands, palms up. “That’s what I said.”

“If we’re not investigating,” Gertie said, “then there’s no need to drive like we’re being shot at. And if there’s one thing the three of us could use, it’s a break from crap and a little fun.”

“I’m not riding on that thing,” I said.

“Don’t worry,” Ida Belle said. “Watching Gertie attempt it will cover the fun part.”

She had a point, and we had the afternoon open. “It’s a while before we have to get ready for the dance. What do you say we head back and try that thing out?”

“Really?” Gertie asked.

“Absolutely,” I said. “But I’m warning you, the footage is going straight onto YouTube.”

“Awesome!” Gertie said. “I’ll be famous.”

Ida Belle closed her eyes and sighed. “God help us.”

Chapter Eight

I intended to drive straight home, blow up that alligator, and commence with the entertainment part of the afternoon, but when we drove into downtown Sinful, it was clear that something was wrong. A crowd of people was gathered on Main Street in front of the sheriff’s department, yelling and shaking their fists.

“This doesn’t look good,” I said.

“Better stop and see what’s going on,” Ida Belle said.

I parked at the end of Main Street and we headed toward the crowd.

“Ida Belle!” Marie broke out from the crowd and hurried toward us. “Thank God you’re here. I tried to reach your cell, but you didn’t answer.”

Ida Belle pulled her cell phone from her pocket. “I put the darn thing on silent earlier and forgot to change it back. What the heck is going on?”

“Celia and Nelson are what’s going on,” Marie said. “Word circulated quickly about Myrtle being replaced by the hooker, which was bad enough, but people figured even Celia would be decent enough to handle that one. Then she had Nelson trot out her new law.”

“I’m afraid to ask,” I said.

“You should be,” Marie said. “The new law states that the Catholic church gets to let out at five ’til.”

“What?”

“That’s an outrage!”

“She’s not going to get away with this!”

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