Chapter 5

Carter offeredto bring dinner to my house that night, so after Ida Belle, Gertie, and I made plans for the next day, they headed out and I hit the shower. What was supposed to have been a quiet afternoon in the park had become a workout I wasn’t planning for. And it took two washes before I didn’t smell like chicken feathers, but it was probably my imagination.

Carter brought chicken-fried steak and didn’t even bother to take it into the kitchen. He just plopped it on the coffee table and went to grab us a couple beers. So we chowed down in the living room, and he told me all about his afternoon.

“Walter said Flint darn near shot Sheriff Lee,” Carter said. “He claimed Sheriff Lee was trespassing.”

“I guess, technically, he’s right, since Lee isn’t the sheriff anymore, but Flint doesn’t know that. How has he been here this long and no one’s taken a round from him?”

“He has horrible aim. And since he’s got to be eight thousand two years old by now, I can’t imagine his vision is all that great.”

“A bad shot and poor vision is still walking dynamite.”

“True. But Lee yelled at him for a bit and he recognized his voice. Almost panicked when he heard his chickens were loose. Didn’t believe him so he made Lee come look with him.”

“Obviously they were his, since Mr. Personality showed up at the park to collect them and tell us all we were going to hell.”

Carter grinned. “Sounds right. Anyway, there was a big cypress tree behind his coop that had fallen. Roots tore a hole in the back of it, so the chickens had decided to take a stroll.”

“That’s a heck of a stroll from where Flint lives to the paved roads.”

“My guess is something got after them, and they took off down the dirt road toward town.”

I nodded. “Then Skinny Lawson’s hounds got after them and ran them into the park.”

“Flint was beside himself saying they probably won’t lay for a week.”

“One of them has no anxiety issues. She laid one right in Celia’s hat—while it was still on her head.”

“Oh, I’ve seen the video.”

“It was even more glorious in person, especially when she smacked her own face with it.”

“I almost wish I would have been there, but then she would have been harassing me to arrest the chicken.”

“And Gertie.”

“Oh yeah, the rabbit. I heard all about that too. Why wasn’t her gun on safety?”

“It was. She was carrying the Baby Eagle. Pieces of the rabbit would have been in Mexico if that thing had gone off.”

“So what destroyed the rabbit?”

“Glitter bomb. I guess the pin went through it.”

“I’m going to talk to Marie about making a new law that Gertie can’t carry a purse.”

“You’d have to insist on no bra as well.”

His eyes widened a bit and he looked slightly horrified but wisely chose to leave the conversation off there.

“Did you talk to Skinny about his faulty fence?” I asked.

“Oh yeah. No way I was letting Celia get one up on me. If Skinny had a fence problem, then I was going to make darn sure it was rectified before Celia made it by there to get evidence for her assault-by-dogs-chasing-chickens claim.”

“And was his fence faulty?”

“Not a single square inch. I didn’t figure it would be. Skinny’s serious about his hounds. They’ve won awards and been written up in hunting magazines. No way he’d risk them with something as stupid as not maintaining his fence.”

“He said it was probably the kids next door. Said he’s told them not to go into his yard, but they don’t listen.”

“They might now. I had a cop-to-boys chat with them. I could tell as soon as their mother opened the door that they were the culprits.”

“Why weren’t they at the celebration at school with all the other kids?”

“Homeschooled. They tended to disrupt classes and spent most of their time in detention, so they were asked to leave. It was clear they thought the whole thing was hilarious.”

“I see. Then what could you possibly say to them to turn them from their juvenile delinquent ways?”

“I told them it wouldn’t have been so funny if Flint had shot those dogs going after his chickens.”

“How old are these kids?”

“Ten and twelve.”

“Isn’t that kind of harsh?”

“Better to hear it in theory than to see it in person. Besides, they hunt. They know the score. Sobered them up right quick, and they promised to knock on Skinny’s door and ask for their ball. Or better yet, go play in the park where they can’t lose the thing over the fence.”

He gave me an amused look. “I’m surprised you look that upset at me for coming down on some kids.”

“I’m not upset about that. Sounds like they needed a wake-up call. I’m more worried that they’re allowed to hunt.”

He laughed. “If you worried about everyone in Sinful who has a gun they have no business owning, then you’d never stop worrying. Gertie’s accidental discharges probably total more than the rest of the citizens combined, and I don’t see you cutting back on the time you spend with her.”

“Touché.”

“Speaking of the terrible twosome, what did you guys do after the big chicken event? Sit in the hot tub and drink?”

“That was the plan, but then I caught a case.”

“What case?”

I told him. When I was done, he shook his head. “That’s bad business all the way around. You think she was telling the truth?”

“Yes. But beyond that, why would she lie? Why hinge your kid’s life on a felon convicted of murder unless that’s the truth?”

He nodded. “Where are you going to start?”

“The beginning. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since I moved here, it’s that nothing is surface deep. Everything and everyone has a beginning and an end and one always factors into the other.”

“So background, with an attempt to suss out potential witnesses.”

“That’s the idea.” I shook my head. “I know it’s a long shot—the whole thing is in more ways than one—but I have to try.”

He put his arm around me and kissed me gently on the lips. “Of course you do. Let me know if I can help. In any authorized way, of course. We’ve got enough legal problems without me going rogue here and adding to them.”

“Did you know Ryan or know of him? Or the case?”

“No. He would have been too young for my crowd.”

“And the murder?”

He shook his head. “It sounds vaguely familiar, but I was already in the Marines by then.”

“So if you heard anything, it was probably from your mother or Walter.”

“My mother would be my guess. Walter isn’t much of one for gossip. Taking it in, absolutely, but he doesn’t share a lot.”

“Much to the dismay of Sinful. I bet Walter has all the good gossip. The General Store is basically like the Swamp Bar without all the booze, drunks, wet T-shirt contests, and well…maybe it’s not like that at all.”

Carter laughed. “The store’s not, but Walter is kind of like bartenders in shows where everyone comes around and talks their ear off. I wouldn’t hold my breath on a wet T-shirt contest down there though.”

“Why not? He could make a great marketing play. A big selection of mirrored sunglasses for the men and wrinkle cream for their wives for all that frowning they’d do. Or maybe just go straight for Bibles and the conversion angle.”

He snorted. “If a bunch of loose women started wet boob dancing in the General Store, my guess is he’d have a run on lightning rods, not Bibles.”

“True. I’ll give your mom a call in the morning, then. See if maybe she knows someone who’s related to or knows Ryan or his family well. I did some checking online but couldn’t run much down. And unfortunately, you don’t have jurisdiction so I can’t even launch a useless plea for case files.”

“NOLA?”

“Magnolia Pass. I’ve been informed by Ida Belle and Gertie that the entire town is run and pretty much owned by the old, rich families there, but they don’t really know much else about it.”

He frowned. “I know the police captain. He’s a joke. A prop for the Beeches. They’ve been the overlords there for years now.”

I sighed. “Then I guess it’s not going to help matters that Ryan’s girlfriend was Lindsay Beech?”

He whistled. “Holy crap. You’ve really stepped in it with this one. Cops don’t like PIs to begin with, but if you prove the local cops got this wrong, and the real killer of a Beech has gotten away with it, then the Beeches won’t hesitate to clean house.”

“So their jobs and reputations are on the line. They have absolutely zero reason to want this investigated.”

“That pretty much sums it up.”

I sighed. “What does it say about our justice system that people would rather be presumed right than proven wrong?”

“A whole lot of things I don’t want to consider given that I’m trying to run my small piece of the parish. Here’s a thought though—Detective Casey might be able to help you. Your client claims they were in the casino hotel with the convicted. That might be enough for her to pull the case files over. At least you’d know if they bothered to check out the story, because I’m sure Ryan told the cops where he was that night.”

I nodded. “I’d be surprised if they looked beyond the stacked bunch of evidence they turned up quickly and easily.”

He frowned. “Yeah. I don’t like it when things are too easy.”

“Because it smells like a setup.”

He nodded and looked out my front window. I knew where his mind had jumped to—the mission in Iran. I still didn’t know the details—couldn’t know them—but I had put enough together to know that while it wasn’t necessarily a setup, it was now a cover-up. Carter was never meant to return home. I believed Colonel Kitts intended him to take everything he knew about the bungled mission to the grave.

A very sandy grave.

* * *

I was up earlyand hoping that Emmaline could provide me with a lead. Since I knew she always had coffee around 7:00 a.m. on her front porch, so that all the early risers would stop by and give her the latest gossip, I dressed and headed over there about ten minutes past. I was hoping to kill two birds with one stone—ask about my case and answer any questions I could about Alexander and Carter and the upcoming interviews we all had the next day.

Ever since we’d heard about the DOD investigation, I’d been checking in on Emmaline regularly. I knew she was worried about Carter, probably even more now that she’d realized his emotional issues were far worse than his physical ones. A broken bone was a lot easier to deal with. And now the legal issues had thrown a whole other kink into things. Emmaline was going to be questioned, and I knew she was stressed about it, so I tried to see her more often to help curb some of her worry.

Mostly by lying about my own level of concern.

But since nothing could be accomplished by worrying, and I was already doing enough for everyone, I figured stretching the truth fell under the good deed rules. I was pleased to see her out front with her coffee when I pulled up, and even happier when she lifted her hand and smiled when she saw me. She rose as I walked up and gave me a quick hug.

“I just finished a fresh pot. Let me go pour you a cup.”

I had already had three so far that morning, but I was also a firm believer that one could never really have too much caffeine. Much to Ronald’s dismay. He was always harping on me about what everything I consumed would do to my skin. Then complaining even more when nothing bad seemed to happen.

Emmaline returned with a refill for herself and a new cup for me, and we sipped silently for a few seconds. But I knew she was just itching to ask me about Carter, so I decided to offer information before she was forced to ask.

“Carter and I had dinner last night,” I said. “He seems good. Better.”

She gave me a hopeful look. “Really? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

Of course I would, but that wasn’t the point.

I shrugged. “Wouldn’t do much good, I guess. You’re his mother. You’d know if I was lying, right?”

She didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know that I would, to be honest. Carter was always a hard one to read. All that ‘still water’ and stuff. Happy and mad were easy to spot. He’s pretty black-and-white when it comes to those, but when he’s struggling to come to grips with something, he just goes silent and has that faraway look. He had it when his father died, and then when he first came home after leaving the Marines, and now again.”

“He’s processing a lot, but I think he’ll be fine. We all will. Alexander is the best attorney in the country, and that is definitely no lie. By the time he’s done with this, Kitts will be court-martialed, and Carter will get a medal.”

Emmaline nodded, but the worry etched on her face didn’t lesson. “I struggle with thinking that if I knew what was going on, then I could help more, but I know that would only make things worse as far as me being called to testify.”

“Are you ready for your meeting with Alexander tomorrow?” I asked, hoping that shifting Emmaline’s focus from Carter’s state of mind—something she couldn’t control—to her testimony—something she had complete control over—might ease some of her tension.

“Yes. And I’ve spoken with him several times on the phone. Not long conversations, but it didn’t take long for me to figure out he’s brilliant.”

I nodded.

She gave me a small smile. “And he’s so eloquent. I know attorneys are supposed to be, and he’d have to be with the heights in his career that he achieved, but his speaking voice is so nice. I can see why he comes across so well with juries.”

I noticed a tiny blush creep up her face and stared.

“You looked him up,” I said. “And you think he’s hot.”

“No! I would never. Okay, I looked him up, but that’s only because I wanted to know about the man who has the future of so many people I love in his hands.”

“Uh-huh. And what did you think of his ‘hands’?”

“They’re very ‘hand’-some?”

I laughed. “Alexander is a good-looking man. There is no doubt. And I’m sure that helps him with juries, but he could be a toad and he’d still win. His mind is even better than his looks.”

“So you think he’s good-looking, too?”

“I’m not blind, so yeah. Obviously, he’s out of my age range, but he’s the perfect age for you.”

She placed her hand over her chest and shook her head. “Oh, I’m not interested in dating him.”

“You haven’t met him yet.”

“That’s not it. I’m not saying I never want another relationship. I’m just not pursuing one.”

“But if one happens to fall in your lap, then why not give it a go? I definitely wasn’t pursuing a relationship when I met Carter. Hell, I was trying to hide from him.”

She smiled. “It’s just not a good idea. He’s your attorney, and Carter’s and Harrison’s. Isn’t that some sort of conflict?”

“He’s not your attorney, but I get what you’re saying. Besides, you might meet him and think he’s all wrong.”

“Do you think so?”

“Heck no. My guess is you’re going to meet him and wonder why the hell he’s still single.”

“So why is he still single?”

I laughed. “I have no idea. I’m not exactly ‘girl talk’ material. The only interaction I had with Alexander in the past was about cases. I admire and respect him, and I’m in awe of the things he does in a courtroom, but I know very little about his personal life.”

She nodded, but I noticed a tiny bit of disappointment. “There wasn’t much online either. Except about his court wins, of course.”

I grinned. “I can’t imagine he’d allow much else to be known. He strikes me as a very private person.”

Emmaline threw her hands in the air. “You’re a private investigator, for Christ’s sake. Aren’t you supposed to be nosy about everything all the time? And Lord knows, you can read people like a book, so give me Fortune’s CliffsNotes thoughts on the man.”

I considered this for a moment. “I think he comes from money. I know he made a ton of it, but he’s got this air and polish about him that says exclusive private schools and rubbing elbows all his life with the rich and powerful. He’s always impeccably dressed and nothing comes off the rack—not even the designer clothes rack. He has expensive taste in automobiles, and they always look like he just drove off the showroom floor. He was a regular guest at every important event in DC—you know, the kind where you bring your checkbook for donations—but I never saw pictures of him with a date.”

“Good God. You don’t think he’s gay, do you?”

“No. I think he’s discreet. If someone rated the status of a relationship, I think he would have been happy to have her on his arm.” I shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he had that one true love that got away and no one else has ever measured up? Maybe he’s destined to be lonely and sad, pining over that one lost love and he’ll die without having moved on.”

“You’ve been watching movies with Gertie again.”

“She watches. I mostly nap, but I guess some of it seeps into my subconscious. But I actually came over here this morning because I just took on a case that I’m hoping you can help me with.”

“Me? I don’t see how, but I’m happy to try.”

I explained the situation to her and when I was done, her eyes were misty. “That poor woman. I can’t even imagine how desperate she must be, and up against a system so cruel that it doesn’t care about a boy’s life.”

I nodded. “Carter said all this went down when he was already in the Marines, but he thought you mentioned it on one of your phone calls. Either you or Walter, but he was betting it was you.”

She frowned. “I probably did. I have a vague recollection of it. Of course, since Ryan no longer lived in Mudbug, there wasn’t much gossip and less than zero press. In fact, I remember thinking about it a year or so later and going online to see what the outcome was. I’m afraid I won’t be much help.”

“I don’t really need facts. I can run those down as much as possible myself. What I’m hoping for is a connection. Do you have any idea who his friends and family are? Someone I could talk to in order to get some background on him?”

Her eyes widened and she looked excited. “Yes! I don’t know why I didn’t remember when you first mentioned his name, but Ryan has a relative right here.”

“In Sinful?”

She nodded. “Hank Comeaux is his cousin.”

“Really? That’s great.”

Hank “Hot Rod” Comeaux was a local tuner and a friend of Ida Belle’s. She’d bought her SUV from him, and he’d done all the engine work and a bunch of other extras that we mostly didn’t tell people about. Since he and Ida Belle had bonded over their love of fast cars, I figured he wouldn’t have a problem talking to us.

My morning had just taken a sharp upturn.