Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Merlin gave me a dirty look when I walked inside, and I waved a hand at him.

“Don’t give me that crap. I know Carter stayed here last night and I can smell your tuna, so you’ve already had breakfast.”

He glared at me and stalked off, swishing his tail. I’d probably pay for my admonishment, but not today. Because as soon as I had a shower and put a bag together, Merlin and his attitude were Carter’s problem again.

I was freshly showered and had just stepped into the living room with my bag, ready for Ida Belle to pick me up, when the front door opened and Carter walked in. He took one look at my bag and frowned.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

I nodded. “I was going to stop by the sheriff’s department on our way out. We’re headed to Houma to do some more looking into things.”

I brought him up to date on what we’d found.

“You think he was murdered?” he asked.

“Honestly, yeah. But I can’t prove it. ”

“But it could have been a mistake by the owners, or his friends, or the dead guy himself.”

I nodded. “It could have been, but I don’t think it was—a mistake, I mean. There’s too much undercurrent, and my spidey sense is on alert.”

“Crap.”

Carter knew exactly what my spidey sense meant, and it was rarely wrong.

“I’m afraid I ran into Bryce this morning. He showed up at the house, let himself in, and came upstairs before I could clear out of his line of sight.”

Carter sighed. “I know. I’ve already had a phone call from him informing me that he didn’t allow people to get away with things in his parish like I did, especially since he wasn’t getting any ‘favors’ in return. And that I’d better get a leash on you, or you’d wind up warming a cot in his jail.”

“A leash?” I asked, feeling my blood pressure rise.

Carter shrugged. “That’s probably the only way he could get a woman to stick around, although I have doubts he’s capable of leashing a puppy. Bryce always spent too much time running his mouth, but that’s all he’s good for. Mind you, he would have never said any of that to my face.”

“Of course not. So what did you tell him?”

“I told him that men who put leashes on women are called rapists and that last time I checked, vacationing wasn’t illegal in any parish, but he should let me know if the laws have changed.”

I snorted. “I told him the same thing. But I don’t get it. He had to know he wasn’t going to get anywhere with you. Why call?”

“Probably to remind me of all his money he has and how his buddy is considering a run for sheriff against me. ”

“Seriously? He’s threatening you with backing someone else for sheriff because I stayed overnight in his parish?”

“He’s threatening me because he knows good and well you weren’t there to vacation, and he’s afraid you’ll make him look stupid even though he’s doing a fine job on his own. Obviously, he can’t arrest you for anything if you don’t do anything, but I know how you work. So watch your back.”

I nodded. “Always.”

He pulled me into his arms and gave me a kiss. “I guess you need me to take care of that demon cat again. You’re lucky I love you.”

He gave me another kiss, then headed out. I pulled out my laptop and went to work.

Ida Belle and Gertie arrived ten minutes later, both looking refreshed and Gertie’s hair back to normal. She’d exchanged her taped-up glasses for a pair that didn’t need tape to hold them together, and since she’d already stated the broken ones had been her last pair of the current prescription, I had to wonder exactly how many years ago this pair was viable. But there was no way I would ask.

“I wasn’t sure what to pack,” Ida Belle said. “Equipment wise, I mean. We’ve got clothes to run in because we always seem to end up doing it, and we always have some medical supplies and our breaking-and-entering stuff. Gloves and firearms are a given, but I wasn’t sure what you had in mind.”

“I don’t know that I had anything in mind except lurking around and trying to pin down a motive. Since cell service is better now and we’ll have Wi-Fi at the hotel, we can troll the internet to see what else we come up with. I wish I could get more time speaking to each of them—and alone, preferably. I think I have a better chance on getting the dirt on people that way. ”

“I think we should break into the ME’s office and commit a heist,” Gertie said.

Ida Belle stared. “You want to steal a body?”

“No!” Gertie said, then frowned. “Unless it would help. I was just thinking if we had the autopsy report and could see the body, that might make a difference.”

“I would love to have that report and get a look at the body,” I said, “but no way are we breaking into the ME’s office. Bryce has already called Carter about my presence in his parish.”

I told them about the phone call, and they both looked disgusted.

“I hope they get him out of office next round,” Gertie said. “Those people deserve better.”

“They deserve what they voted for,” Ida Belle said. “If they didn’t know better before, then they certainly do now. If he’s reelected then that’s on them.”

I nodded. “What we need is a way to accidentally bump into the friends. We already have our cover about going to the bar in Meditation, so that’s one reason to be nearby. And I told them I was off this weekend so we might poke around some other places.”

“Houma is full of antiques shops,” Gertie said.

“Perfect,” I said. “I’ve already done some legwork on the hotel and there’s only one hosting a class reunion. I booked us a suite.”

“I wonder if they’re going to think it’s weird if they see us in the same hotel,” Ida Belle said.

I shrugged. “It’s a risk we have to take. If we book somewhere else, there’s no chance of ‘accidentally’ running into them.”

Gertie leaned over and looked at my laptop. “That place offers the best senior discount and free breakfast. And it’s a national chain so you can always say you used points for the rest. After all, none of us is supposed to be well off.”

“That works,” I said.

Gertie frowned. “The dance… Brittany said it was a masquerade ball, right?”

“Yeah, Mardi Gras theme, which was apparently what their prom was,” I said, then I realized where she was going with that and shook my head. “Oh no, we are not going to that prom.”

“Well, we probably couldn’t,” she said. “But there’s no reason you can’t. You’d be wearing a mask.”

“It’s a small school,” I said. “I’m pretty sure they’d know I wasn’t a classmate as soon as they asked any one of ten thousand questions I can’t answer.”

“There’s got to be a female Morgan that graduated with them,” Gertie said. “Some poor girl who ran to university five seconds after graduation and never wants to see them again as long as she lives.”

Ida Belle pursed her lips. “I hate to agree with her, but it’s definitely a possibility. The brightest students tend to flee small towns for bigger opportunities.”

Gertie nodded. “And we all know the ugly duckling becomes the swan. So we find that person, make sure they’re not attending, dig up some basic information online, and then you show up last minute as a surprise.”

I threw my hands in the air. “Do you know how many things could go wrong with that plan? What if her best friend from high school is there? Or her science professor who wrote her an admission letter for MIT? What if Morgan dated her? And they make you wear name tags at reunions, don’t they? I’m sure that goes double for a masquerade.”

Gertie waved a hand in dismissal. “Minor details. I’m not saying you should make a spectacle of yourself. Just lose the tag after you get inside and wander around, listening to conversations.”

“And what if one of the group approaches me?” I asked. “They’d recognize my voice.”

Ida Belle raised one eyebrow.

“Okay, fine, I know how to disguise my voice, but still.”

“Are you trying to tell me that going undercover at a high school reunion is more difficult than being undercover on a CIA mission?” Ida Belle asked.

“In some ways, yes. On missions, I was a stranger playing the role of someone they’d never met. Playing an existing person with a past in a small town is a completely different thing. Plus, I’m not allowed to kill any of them.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Ida Belle said. “But it couldn’t hurt to try, right? If you think you’re going to be compromised, you duck out, change clothes, and no harm, no foul.”

I frowned. I couldn’t find fault with the idea, other than the million ways it could go wrong. And since news of Justin’s death would have circulated among all the attendees by tonight, it might give me a chance to overhear stories ‘out of school’ so to speak.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” I said, issuing my final weak protest.

“Call Ronald,” Gertie said, which was exactly what I’d expected her to say.

I picked up my phone and sent Ronald a text.

Dress emergency. Need your help.

Less than twenty seconds later, my front door flew open and Ronald burst inside, huffing as if he’d just run a mile.

Or flown.

He was wearing his Fashionista superhero leotard, complete with cape and mask. Ida Belle let out a strangled cry and immediately fled to the kitchen, mumbling something about dehydration. Gertie, as expected, took in the entire disaster like a kid at the circus.

“That’s fantastic!” she said. “Fortune told me about it, of course, but it’s so much more in person. I didn’t know about the mask.”

“That’s new,” he said. “I was thinking the whole thing was lacking something.”

“Non-clingy material?” I suggested. “A cape that drapes over the entire front?”

“You can’t do fashionista exercises in a huge cape.”

“What are fashionista exercises?” Gertie asked.

“First, you bend from the knees to get something off a lower shelf. I don’t know why some stores still insist on keeping things below waist level, but you can’t just go sticking your rear out at people, so you have to practice. Then there’s the high-heeled tiptoe to get things off the high shelf. After that is balancing of shopping bag weight so that you don’t lean to one side when you walk and cause foot or knee issues. And finally, you walk, in heels, with the bags, without breaking a sweat. The whole routine wipes me out for the rest of the day.”

“Sounds hard,” I said.

“Sounds impossible in Louisiana in the summer,” Gertie said. “That sweating part anyway.”

“The secret is to roll clear deodorant across your forehead.”

“Doesn’t that clog your pores?” I asked. Ronald was forever harping on me about my pores.

“You don’t leave it on there. You use a good cleanser and do a deep moisturizing and a mud mask after.”

“Sounds like more work than the walking thing.”

He closed his eyes and looked up at the ceiling, probably praying for my skin .

“So what’s this dress emergency?” he asked when he looked back down. “I see you’re in your current discount wear.”

“I have a thing… I might have a thing.”

“Girl, you’re going to have to be more specific than that. Is it a thing you’re attending or a thing that needs to fit into the dress? Because I can handle either, but I need more information.”

“Both. I need to fit a gun in there, but I can strap it to my leg, so it can’t be anything with a slit up to my navel. And it has to be a cocktail dress at least because it’s a class reunion dance with a Mardi Gras masquerade theme. Since I’m undercover I need something that fits me but doesn’t ‘scream hey look at me.’ Bonus points if you have a mask that matches.”

He frowned. “I was with you until the ‘hey look at me’ part.”

I nodded and waved a hand at his outfit. “I get that.”

“But I might have something… No, I think I donated it, or wore it at a friend’s garage sale. Wait! I still have it. I shoved it in the back of my guest room closet and it didn’t make the donation pile.”

I perked up a bit. If he’d worn it for a garage sale, it might be suitable for public. It might not even scream at people to pay attention.

“Let me go grab it,” he said. “It’s a straight cut, so you won’t have to worry about the whole clingy curves calling attention thing, but you’ll have to handle shoes. You’d run right out of mine, and you always end up running.”

Gertie nodded.

He hurried off, and Ida Belle sidled back into the room after the door closed.

“Coward,” Gertie said and grinned at her.

“You can call me whatever you like as long as I don’t have to see Ronald in tights. I’m surprised Carter didn’t resign and move after catching sight of that spectacle.” She looked over at me. “I get why Gertie isn’t disturbed, but you didn’t so much as blink.”

I shrugged. “I have to rescue Gertie and Jeb from their sexy-time disasters, remember?”

Ida Belle cringed and held up one hand. “Say no more.”

My door popped open, and Ronald swept in with the dress. I had to admit, it wasn’t horrible. In fact, compared to Ronald’s usual fare it was downright boring. I could see why he’d relegated it to garage sale wear.

The dress was sleeveless and as advertised, a straight cut that would probably hit a couple inches above my knees. The fabric was a shiny purple but wasn’t stretchy or clingy. Over the straps and around the top were purple, green, and gold sequins, but just enough to pull in all the Mardi Gras colors and not enough to blind people under good light.

“This is nice,” I said. As far as dresses went, anyway.

Ronald sighed. “Of course you like it. It’s all yours. I’ll consider it my contribution to taking down whatever criminal you’re currently pursuing.”

“How do you know I’m pursuing a criminal?”

“Because there’s nothing else that would get you in a dress.”

“I wore a dress to Good Friday dinner.”

“Oh Lord!” Ronald said and put his hands on his chest. “Don’t even mention that. I’m still having nightmares. I left the café the other day without even ordering because Pastor Don came in. I see him and have this overwhelming urge to flee.”

I grinned. Ronald had led a very drunk Pastor Don on a merry chase at the Sinful Good Friday dinner. General public opinion fell into two camps—entertained or annoyed. Pastor Don had been delighted. Ronald had been terrorized .

“I better try this on, just to make sure,” I said.

“Take this as well,” he said and pulled an auburn wig from his purse.

“I wasn’t planning on wearing a wig.”

“A fancy dress means you’re attending an event with women—usually—and you’re undercover. If any of those women have seen your perfect locks without a single split end, despite how horribly you treat your hair, they will recognize you by the strands alone.”

I wasn’t sure about split end profiling, but I figured Ronald knew women better than I did. I took the wig and dress and headed to my office and tried everything on. I didn’t have a mirror to check the look, but the fit was perfect, meaning neither my chest nor my nine would be exposed, and it wasn’t so short that it would attract unnecessary attention, but the length allowed for running and a decent hook kick if needed. I pulled the wig on and headed out.

When I walked back into the living room, Ronald sighed and shook his head.

“Of course you look fabulous in it,” he said. “I swear you could make a potato sack look good. Here, give the mask a whirl.”

He handed me a glittery purple Venetian mask with gold, green, and purple feathers. I slipped it on, and he nodded.

“It’s perfect but the eyes might still give you away. Not a lot of people have that shade of turquoise.”

“I have colored contacts for undercover.”

“Of course you do. I brought this just in case.” He passed me a small gold bag with a long chain.

I took the bag and gave it a look. “Can’t fit my nine in it, but this chain is pretty strong. I could probably strangle someone with it.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. Ida Belle, who’d forced herself to stick around for the unveiling, gave it a tug and nodded.

“That wig is real hair, and nice hair,” he said. “So don’t do anything to it you wouldn’t do to your own. You know what, scratch that. Treat the hair like it’s a Fabergé egg you were hired to protect.”

“Thanks, Ronald,” I said. “Seriously, this is perfect. I owe you.”

“Hmmmm, I was rather hoping not to need the services you provide.”

“Everyone is, and yet…”

I hurried to my office to change back into my street clothes, then came out and waited an agonizing thirty seconds while Ronald hung the dress back on the hanger and smoothed it down, then gasped when I shoved the whole thing into my overnight bag, followed by the wig. He didn’t even say another word—just walked out with one hand held over his mouth.

“Let’s get this investigation rolling,” Gertie said.

“I had a thought when I was changing,” I said.

“A sexy thought?” Gertie asked.

Ida Belle threw her hands up. “Why in the world would she be having sexy thoughts in the middle of an investigation?”

“Because she’s half naked?”

“She’s completely naked every night when she showers—you know what, do not respond to that.” She looked at me. “What was your thought?”

“Remember how on Voodoo Island, members of the group kept ducking outside to sit in the rain, vape in secret, or whatever else they were up to out there? Well, I was thinking that people might do the same at the dance tonight. And if two people are ducking out together to have a chat, then they probably wouldn’t do that in the lobby where they could easily be overheard. ”

“And since a lot of them probably still live in the area or are staying with family, then they won’t have rooms to go to for private conversations,” Ida Belle said. “I’m following you so far, but I don’t think an outside smoking area will provide enough cover for us to hide out there all night.”

“Especially if we’re crouching,” Gertie said. “I’m good for four or five seconds in a crouch. The other day I crouched too long checking a casserole, and it took me twenty minutes to get upright again. And here I went and installed those ADA-height toilets thinking they’d be easier. Well, not when you’re stuck in a crouch.”

“No crouching required,” I said. “I was thinking you could park the SUV behind the hotel and use the parabolic microphone. There’s smoking and nonsmoking patios on the back and the exit to them is just outside the doors to the conference room, so more people will probably use the back than loiter around the front.”

“That’s good thinking,” Ida Belle said. “Let’s load up then. Are we going to the hotel first?”

“No. Let’s head to the cross-legged bar first.”

Gertie clapped her hands. “I didn’t know we were really going!”

“I figure we need to at least duck in and take some pictures,” I said. “After all, I told the group we wanted to check it out. Having pictures helps with our cover. And since the bar is on a turnoff before you get to Houma from Voodoo Island, it makes sense we’d stop on our way into town. Then we have pics in case someone spots us checking into the hotel.”

“But it will be pictures from the middle of the day,” Gertie said.

“Yeah, we’re old people,” Ida Belle said. “We need to get things done in daylight and be back at the hotel and ready for bed before dark.”

“I am not old.”

“We’re undercover,” I reminded her. “I’m playing an insurance processor who is down on men, plans on becoming a cat lady, and doesn’t like to leave her apartment.”

Gertie pointed at Merlin, then held her hands up. “You’re batting .500.”

“Fine. How about this—if I have to play dumb, you can play old.”

I grabbed the case with the microphone and put it and my bag in the SUV, then collected my laptop. Merlin was in the living room glaring at me when I went to leave, so I gave him a pat and a promise that Carter would make sure his dinner wasn’t late.

He didn’t look convinced.