Swamp Sniper (13 page)

I shook my head. “The woman has some balls.”

“Francine didn’t even miss a beat. She kept pouring coffee and told Paulette that people didn’t stop getting hungry just because someone died and to stop dripping on her rug or she’d be buying a new one.”

“Wow. That’s blunt, even for Francine.”

“Paulette once called Francine tacky white trash, and Ted used to hit on her.”

“Never mind. Francine was more than polite.”

Ally nodded. “I thought so too. If it had been me, I would have accidentally spilled that pot of coffee on her.”

“Sneaky, and effective,” I said approvingly.

“So Paulette started wailing like a banshee that Francine couldn’t make her get out and that she was the victim. Then Francine told her that the only victims were the rug and everyone who was listening to her bitch.”

I laughed.

“So Paulette starts to lunge forward, and I’m thinking ‘This is about to get good’ because Francine is the only girl in a family of eight siblings and can fight better than most men.”

Francine’s stock went up a hundred points in my mental tally.

“Then Carter walks in,” Ally continued, “and grabs Paulette before she can make a move. He lifted her right off the rug and carried her outside to her car, then waited until she drove off before going back to the sheriff’s department.”

I shook my head. “Why does he have to be so efficient? It takes all the excitement out of everything.”

Ally laughed. “I know. Some of the customers were disappointed he showed up so quickly. They figure someone called and ratted, but no one would fess up to it.”

“That Paulette is some piece of work. I heard some guy showed up at her house yesterday and seems to be staying there.”

“Really? Who is he?”

“No one seems to know, but I’m sure it will come out sooner or later.”

“You don’t think she’s already getting some on the side, do you?”

“Technically, it wouldn’t be ‘on the side’ since Ted’s dead, but no. Even after everything I’ve heard about Paulette, I still can’t believe she’d be foolish enough to parade a boyfriend through Sinful the day after her husband’s murder.”

Ally slumped back in her chair. “Probably not, but it would have been interesting, right? Especially with Ted being murdered and all. Do you think Paulette did it?”

“I don’t know. The spouse is always the usual suspect, but you still have to prove it. Without evidence that Paulette had access to the murder weapon and a motive for doing it, it would all amount to nothing.”

Ally frowned. “I heard about the arsenic, and everyone knows that Ida Belle had gophers, so I assume that’s why Carter questioned her. But no one with two brain cells thinks Ida Belle killed Ted, so that means someone else did.”

“Yeah, but who?”

“I have no idea. I hope Carter is smarter than we are.”

“Me too.” But I was afraid he was running into the same lack of information that Gertie and I had.

“Anyway,” Ally continued. “Paulette’s apparently wasting no time getting Ted in the ground.”

“What do you mean?”

“The coroner released the body this morning. I guess they have all the evidence they need. Father Michael was in the café yesterday evening making notes. I asked if he was working on a sermon, and he said that he was preparing for a candlelight vigil tonight and the funeral tomorrow.”

I sat up straight. “Wow. That
is
fast.” Which meant I only had this afternoon to plan my trip through Ted’s house with Gertie. I hadn’t expected to have my hand forced so quickly.

“What time is the vigil?”

“In the summer, they usually start late because they’re held at dusk. There’s no point in everyone holding a candle if daylight is streaming through every window of the church.” She stared at me. “You’re not thinking of going, are you?”

“Heck no! I just wondered, is all. I’ve never known anyone who had a vigil.”

“The GWs will probably start making phone calls about it this afternoon. Sinful being so small, people don’t need much in the way of notice, and most people will just show up for the funeral tomorrow.”

Suddenly, it dawned on me that Ted was going to be buried in Sinful. “I don’t get it—why bury Ted here when they’re from up north?”

Ally frowned. “I hadn’t really thought about it, but that is weird. Maybe he had a falling-out with his family or something and didn’t want to be buried back home.”

“Or maybe he has no family left.”
 

For the first time in my life I thought about what would happen if I died. I had a will. Everyone in the CIA was required to keep an updated copy on file with human resources. Morrow was my executor, so I assumed he’d pick some plot and schedule the standard service. People I worked with would come…unless they were on a mission. In that case, my funeral would probably be attended by the priest, Hadley, Morrow, and the guy with the shovel.
 

How depressing.
 

“Fortune?” Ally’s voice broke into my thoughts. “I lost you there for a moment.”

“Oh, yeah. Just thinking. So much has happened since I arrived that it’s sometimes a lot to take in.”

She nodded. “I’ve lived here practically my entire life but I’ve had trouble keeping up these past few weeks.”

“Carter thinks the town has changed.”

Ally tilted her head to the side, her brow wrinkled. “He said that?”

Instantly, I felt guilty. “I shouldn’t have repeated that. Please don’t say anything to anyone about it.”

“No, of course not. But I find it interesting.”

“Why is that?”

“I feel the same way. I mean, I know the whole ‘you can never go home again’ thing because you change while you’re gone and then nothing is the same as it was before, but this is something different.”

“It’s like everything bad is bubbling to the surface at once.”

“Yes! That’s it exactly. And it’s stuff that I never imagined would go on in Sinful.” She shook her head. “I guess that’s my own naïveté or maybe just wishful thinking. I suppose evil is everywhere.”

“Sometimes it’s just plain ole greed.” I straightened up. “Ted was always giving stuff away, right? Maybe Paulette killed him for the money.”

Ally shrugged. “It’s as good a reason as any.” She rose from the table. “I better get going. I just wanted to check in on you. Everyone’s talking about your run-in with Shorty yesterday, but I’m not foolish enough to think he got the better of you. I should really get on my laundry. Aunt Celia will expect me to attend the service with her tonight, and I don’t have a single pair of clean underwear to my name.”

“Go commando.”

Ally’s eyes widened. “It’s illegal to go into a church in Sinful without underwear.”

I sighed. “Of course it is.”

###

“You’re sure the house is empty?” Gertie peered out Marie’s front window.

“You’ve asked the same question ten times now,” Marie complained. “You watched the same thing I did. Paulette and that man Celia said is her cousin came out and drove away. If anyone else is in that house, I’m not aware that they were inside to begin with.”

“I just want to make sure,” Gertie said. “You don’t have to get pissy about it.”

“The only way we’re going to be sure,” I said, “is when we go in there and it’s empty. How long do these candlelight vigil things last?”

“It depends on how far off on a bunny trail Father Michael gets,” Marie said, “but usually about an hour.”

Marie’s cell phone rang and we all jumped. “It’s Ida Belle,” Marie said. “Again.”

“Give me that,” I said and answered. “You have to stop calling. We’re about to go in and we need this line clear. As soon as we know anything, we’ll call.”
 

I disconnected before Ida Belle could protest and handed the phone back to Marie.

Gertie shook her head. “Asking that woman to take a sideline seat is like asking Johnny Depp to stop being hot.”

“It’s for her own good,” I reminded Gertie. “The last place Ida Belle needs to be seen is across the street from Ted’s house. Why do you think I parked my Jeep around the corner?”

“I know, but try telling her that,” Gertie said.

“We need to get this show on the road.” I gave Gertie a hard look. “Be careful to put everything back exactly as you found it. We don’t want to give Paulette or her cousin any reason to suspect we were there.”

“Remember,” Marie said, “Babs said that Celia unlocked the patio door when she called on Paulette earlier. Unless she double-checked before leaving the house, you should be able to stroll right in. Babs said there’s no security system.”

I nodded. “I have my phone on vibrate. Do not leave this window. Don’t even blink. If you see anyone approach the house, send me a text.”

“Got it,” Marie said.

I pulled out two sets of plastic gloves and passed one to Gertie. “Let’s do this.”

Chapter Eleven

Gertie and I headed out the back door and skirted around the block, coming at Ted’s house from the back side. Marie had already identified the neighboring homes as Catholics, so unless they were being heathens, they should all be at the vigil.
 

“I wish it was completely dark,” I said.

“I don’t know,” Gertie said. “My night vision isn’t what it used to be.”

“All of your vision isn’t what it used to be. You just refuse to admit it.”

“My vision is perfectly fine. I don’t know why you and Ida Belle always have to harp—”

I heard a grunt and looked back to see Gertie and her perfectly fine vision slumped over the air-conditioning unit she’d just walked straight into. I shook my head. “Awful how those AC units just jump right out in front of you.”

“You distracted me by talking.”

“Then by all means, I’ll shut up before you walk right through a window and give us away.” I had my back to her, but I would have bet anything she gave me the bird.

When we reached the back of Ted’s house, we inched around the side to the front fence gate. I pulled the lever down and breathed a sigh of relief when it opened. A six-foot fence was no big obstacle for me, but Gertie and fences had a somewhat checkered past.

When the patio door slid open without a hitch, I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved again or worried. Investigating with Gertie and Ida Belle didn’t usually go this well. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Where do we start?” Gertie asked.

“Upstairs. Half of Sinful has traipsed through the downstairs today. Nothing incriminating would be on display. If that guy staying here is really her cousin then he’ll be in a guest room. See if you can find something on him. I’ll take the master bedroom.”

Gertie nodded and we crept upstairs. The first two rooms we came to were completely empty, which seemed odd given that they’d been living in Sinful for two years, but maybe they were the kind of people who weren’t attached to things. The next was a bathroom, then after that a guest room with a duffel bag in the middle of the bed. I waved Gertie in and continued down the hall to the last door, which must be the master bedroom.

I blanched when I looked inside. It was like a gold-and-red lamé fabric assault. A bed with giant posts stood in the center of the back wall, giant bolts of fabric draped from column to column. The same fabric hung over every window, covered every pillow and seat cushion, and was even draped over the dresser, the nightstands, and a makeup table.
 

I couldn’t imagine how anyone managed to sleep in this horror story. You’d need sunglasses for the glare alone.

I moved immediately to the nightstand on the right side of the bed, but all I found was lotion, gel packs for eyes, and sleeping pills. I checked the name on the bottle—Paulette Williams. Nothing of interest there.

I moved to the other side and found it even less revealing. A car magazine was the sole occupant. I frowned and moved to the dresser. The first drawer was clearly Paulette’s and I said a prayer of thanks that I was wearing gloves. Her underwear was even more garish than her bedroom decor, but despite what I’d seen in movies, nothing was hidden in the back of the panty drawer. None of the other drawers coughed up a clue either.

I checked the drawer on the makeup table, but only found one of everything from Walmart, then moved into the master bathroom, which was equally sterile. I muddled through the walk-in closet of boring tan slacks and polo shirts with equally opposite spandex and glitter, but came up empty. If Ted and Paulette had any secret vices, they weren’t hiding them in their bedroom.
 

I stepped out in the hall as Gertie walked out of the guest bathroom. “Anything?” I asked.

She shook her head. “The cousin must have his wallet on him, and the duffel bag didn’t have a luggage tag or anything.”

“Probably carry-on,” I said.
 

“Did you find anything in the master?”

“Aside from the most offensive decorating in the world, not a single thing seems out of the ordinary.”