Sinful Alibi Read online

  “Yes, I am.”

  “What kind of spy would I be if I didn’t listen in?” Louanne asked, shaking her head. “She was there delivering some cabinet pulls, and he reminded her of the times they’d had together. He wondered if she wouldn’t consider another go with him.”

  Marge whistled. “So they had an affair in the past? Now it’s getting interesting.”

  Louanne lifted her brows. “Affair’s not the word I’d use. I doubt she really wanted his attention. She certainly didn’t want it last night because she told him she had a boyfriend. He said that it seemed to him that she had two, so why not make it three?”

  “She has two boyfriends?” asked Ida Belle.

  Louanne shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a reason to keep up with Bonnie’s love life, so I have no intel on that. She denied it, but Wade seemed pretty certain there was another guy, and suggested that it would be a shame if her main boyfriend found out she had another one on the side. He also accused her of being a ‘Mrs. Robinson.’ I took that to mean the side boyfriend was much younger than Bonnie. It was then she said she had to run and scooted out of there. When I spoke with Wade after Bonnie left, I may have tossed in a suggestion that he leave Bonnie alone.”

  “But Bonnie didn’t know you overheard everything and told him that,” Ida Belle said. “She may have had enough and come back later to kill him to keep him from blabbing about everything.”

  “She knew you were there last night,” Gertie added. “Wade went home for dinner and called Bonnie to say he spoke with you and that he was going to rent to us. Bonnie seemed quick to point that out, hinting that you could have murdered him.”

  Marge snickered. “Yeah, before she remembered you were my aunt. I’ll bet you anything she mentioned that to Sheriff Lee. I’d be expecting a visit from him or Deputy Broussard.”

  Louanne smiled. “Wouldn’t be the first time those boys suspected me of something.”

  “Sheriff Lee just hates it that a girl makes better moonshine than he does,” Ida Belle said.

  Louanne shook her head. “Not anymore. My bounty hunter business has taken off mightily and I just don’t have the time to tend my still. So right now, his rotgut is the best of Sinful.”

  Gertie reached for a cookie from the tray. “I heard Paul Corbett was mad that Wade decided to rent to us and not him.”

  Louanne pursed her lips. “Hmmmm.” She flipped back several pages of her spy notebook and tapped on the page. “Paul’s a hothead, that’s for sure. I had a run-in with him at the General Store. I had to knock him in the head with a can of peas when he took a swing at Big Eddie. He said Big Eddie had shortchanged him. He said he gave Big Eddie a twenty when he really gave him a ten. He tried to pull that once at the café.”

  “Is he hotheaded enough to murder someone?” Marge asked.

  Louanne shrugged. “He did do some time for assault in his early twenties. But if he wanted to murder anyone, it would be me. My clunking him with a can of peas made the Sinful Times gossip column. He was the butt of jokes for weeks.”

  “What do you have on Dolly Harkins?” Ida Belle asked. “Bonnie said Dolly wasn’t too pleased with how Mr. Guillory stuffed her cat.”

  Louanne rolled her eyes. “Yes. Crackers. Dumb name for a cat. Her dog’s name is Cheese. Even dumber. She raised a stink about the way he stuffed Crackers, but as far as I know, she never tried to sue him. Dolly got divorced about a year ago and her husband moved to Lafayette. No kids. Just Cheese and Crackers, although Crackers now just sits in her bedroom window. Apparently, Wade’s work on Crackers didn’t stop Dolly from working for Wade. She takes care of his sick wife.”

  “That’s odd,” Ida Belle said.

  Louanne shrugged. “Dolly used to work for a home health aide service, so not really. But if you ask me, Dolly gave Wade an ultimatum. Either pay me for the bad stuffing job or hire me. He chose to get something for his money.”

  “Anything else unusual about her?”

  Louanne smiled. “That woman is a bundle of unusual. I caught her lurking around Wade’s street one night. She about had a heart attack when I came up behind her and said ‘hello.’ I had this feeling she was hiding something. It was before he hired her, so maybe she was just harassing him. As far as I know, she and Wade have been civil to each other since her employment.”

  Louanne thought a moment and got up from her chair and retrieved a thin, Sinful directory sitting next to her telephone. She opened it and flipped through a few pages. “And another thing,” she said, smiling. “Dolly lives one street over from the rental, almost directly behind it. There’s a wooded area that ends at the bayou, separating the two houses.”

  After finishing their cookies and tea and absorbing all the current dirt Louanne had on Sinful residents, the three girls got up to leave.

  “Do you mind if I ask why you three are taking it upon yourselves to try to solve this crime?” Louanne asked as she walked with them to the door. “Why would you take this on when you’ve just spent ten years spying and sleuthing around Vietnam? You’d think you’d want to take it easy and—” And then Louanne stopped. She got it. “Never mind. I understand. I’m a bounty hunter for criminy sakes.”

  Louanne opened the door. Deputy Oscar Broussard stood on the porch with his fist held in the air, ready to knock. Gabby stood beside him, an apology written on her face.

  “I told this lawman you were busy with your niece and her friends,” Gabby said, a handcuff dangling from one of her wrists. “But no, he just—”

  Deputy Broussard spoke over Gabby. “Miss Louanne Boudreaux, I’ve been sent here by Sheriff Lee. We have reason to believe that you are involved in the murder of one Wade Guillory.”

  Chapter Six

  AFTER A STUNNED MOMENT of silence, Ida Belle and her friends shouted their protests at the determined deputy.

  “You’re crazy!”

  “Prove it!”

  “She doesn’t have to answer your questions!”

  Louanne held up her hand and quieted them. She smiled and calmly said, “Why, Deputy Broussard, is that any way to greet a member of the public? Here’s how you do it. ‘Hello, Miss Boudreaux. You’re looking well.’ ‘Thank you, Deputy Broussard. I could say the same about you.’”

  And she’d be right. His fifties were treating him well. He still had a full head of thick, dark hair and it was obvious he exercised regularly.

  He cleared his throat. “I’ll keep that greeting in mind, Miss Boudreaux. However, this is a serious matter. I have been assigned as lead deputy in Wade Guillory’s murder, and it has come to my attention that you had discussions with Wade last night at a rental house he was spiffing up.”

  Louanne glared at Deputy Broussard. “And who might have told you that about me?”

  He smiled. “Bonnie Cotton and Paul Corbett. Apparently, the night he was murdered, Wade had dinner at home before returning to the rental to continue his work. While there, he called both Bonnie and Paul to inform them that he was renting to your niece and her friends.”

  She thought a moment. “Well, I don’t deny I went over to talk to Wade. That was about six, six thirty.”

  He sniffed. “The coroner has placed a preliminary time of death at about 10:00 to 10:30. Around that time, a woman matching your description was seen speeding away from the house in a convertible. Excuse my brusqueness, but did you go back at ten to ten thirty?”

  “If I had, I’d have said so.”

  He stretched his neck. Glared at her. “Think hard on that.”

  “Now, why would I have to tax my brain cells with extra thinking for nothing? I was home at ten, ten thirty.”

  Gabby started to agree with her, but Louanne shut her up with a hard glance. “And before you ask,” Louanne said, “I was alone.”

  Gabby cleared her throat.

  “Very much alone,” Louanne said.

  “So no alibi, then?” asked Broussard.

  Louanne raised her brows at her prisoner. “That’s correct. No
alibi.”

  Deputy Broussard pulled his attention toward Gabby. “And who are you?”

  Once again, Louanne cut Gabby off before she could speak. “Her name’s Sandy. She was one of my superiors from my World War II days. You served, didn’t you, Deputy?”

  He puffed up his chest. “Of course I did.” He looked down at Gabby’s wrist. “Care to tell me why you have a pair of handcuffs around one of your wrists?”

  “Because it would be too hard to pick berries if they were on both wrists,” Gabby said.

  Louanne laughed. “And she has a great sense of humor. Sandy has signed on as an associate of mine, Deputy. We were testing the efficacy of this particular brand of handcuff. To see if maybe I should order more.”

  Gabby smiled, catching on. “That’s right. And, if you ask me, Louanne, I say we pass on this model.” She held up her cuffed wrist and let the other half of the handcuffs dangle. “I broke through this one in record time.”

  Ida Belle could tell Deputy Broussard wasn’t buying it. She also knew why Louanne wasn’t using Gabby to verify her whereabouts last night. The last thing Louanne needed right now was Deputy Broussard to go blabbing to Sheriff Lee that Louanne was harboring a prisoner. He’d waste no time hauling Gabby in and taking credit for returning her to the court system.

  “An associate, is that it?” Deputy Broussard asked. “You’re in the bounty hunter business. Isn’t that correct, Miss Boudreaux?” He rolled his eyes. “How you obtained a license is beyond me, because for the life of me I’ve never heard of any other female bounty hunter. Now you expect me to believe there are two of you?”

  “Welcome to the Seventies, Deputy,” Louanne said.

  Ida Belle glanced at Gertie and Marge. They needed a distraction and they needed one quick. Ida Belle was good at quick distractions, but Marge and Gertie were the masters.

  Marge threw her hands in the air. “And why is that so hard to believe? Because women are too weak to be bounty hunters?”

  “You said it, I didn’t,” Deputy Broussard said. “And you’re already skating on thin ice, little girl, spouting off all that women’s libber stuff to the sheriff. You might want to keep those libber lips zipped.”

  “Oh, my libber lips don’t need to say anything to make my point.” Marge stuck her hands behind her back.

  “Don’t do it, Marge,” Gertie warned. She looked at the deputy. “Men aren’t supposed to know all the powers we females possess.”

  Ida Belle could tell Marge was unhooking her bra through her shirt. She sighed. This was definitely not the kind of distraction she had in mind. But once Marge got going, there was no stopping her.

  Marge then stuck one hand through the sleeve of her shirt, removing one of her straps from her shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” Deputy Broussard asked. When Marge didn’t answer, he looked around at the other women. “What’s she doing?”

  Gertie sighed. “Well, Deputy, you’re about to witness one of women’s secret talents. The ability to remove our undergarments while leaving our outerwear intact.”

  Deputy Broussard’s jaw dropped. “You stop that right now,” he said, pointing to Marge.

  Marge pulled one strap through her sleeve. She then stuck the other hand in the opposite sleeve and did the same, yanking the bra out through the sleeve and allowing it to dangle from her hand. The deputy’s eyebrows shot upward.

  “Anyone got a match?” Marge asked.

  “You put that thing back on!” Broussard demanded.

  “Oh, well, our secret talent doesn’t extend to putting it back on,” Gertie said. She frowned as she gazed at the bra. “Wait a minute. That’s mine. See? There’s a little ink ‘G’ on the back.”

  Marge looked. “Oh, yeah, I was wondering why the cups felt so small and tight.”

  Gertie slugged Marge.

  “You set fire to that thing and I’ll arrest you,” Broussard said.

  Gertie yanked the bra away from Marge and stuffed it in her purse. “I ordered this special from Montgomery Ward. I’m not letting it go up in flames.”

  Louanne stepped out of the doorway and placed an arm around Deputy Broussard’s shoulder. “Why don’t we go inside and have some cookies and sweet tea, Deputy, and Marge will go home and put on proper undergarments?”

  He looked dazed for a moment, then looked around. “Where’s the other gal?”

  “Well, I suppose Sandy is off to test more handcuffs.” She gently prodded him through the doorway. “You look like a gingersnaps man, am I right? You’re in luck because my associate happened to whomp up the finest gingersnaps in all Louisiana.”

  Louanne nodded for the three of them to leave and shut the door.

  Gertie took the bra out of her purse and handed it back to Marge. “That was a cheap shot at my chest size, by the way.”

  “Bra burning would not have been my choice of distractions,” Ida Belle said as she headed down the porch steps. “You could have landed in jail.”

  Marge laughed. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  Gabby appeared on the path ahead of them. “I don’t get it. Why didn’t she just let me speak up? I know she was here at that time. Her boyfriend Cole was arriving the next morning for a brief visit, so I was in her kitchen baking up some gingersnaps for him.”

  “She doesn’t want to get you involved,” Ida Belle said. “Why don’t you finish collecting your berries? Just stay out of the deputy’s way. And don’t worry about Louanne. She’s tough.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Gabby said.

  Marge, Ida Belle and Gertie returned to Louanne’s dock and climbed down into Big Eddie’s boat.

  “Now we have another reason to get involved,” Gertie said. “Especially since she won’t let Gabby alibi her.”

  “She might have to,” Marge said. “She and Sheriff Lee’s daddy had a rocky relationship when he was sheriff. His son seems hell-bent on continuing it.”

  “Yeah, but you know your aunt,” Ida Belle said. “She knows Gabby won’t get justice if she’s sent back to stand trial. We all know in the end she’s going to let her go. Until that happens, Louanne doesn’t want to advertise her existence. Even if it means she won’t get an alibi.”

  Ida Belle started the motor and shouted above the noise, “Let’s go find out who really did murder Wade Guillory.”

  Chapter Seven

  IDA BELLE SPOTTED IT first and groaned as the three approached Marge’s house. Gertie’s groan followed. Beatrice Hebert’s Ford was parked out front, the Get Closer to Jesus, Not My Car bumper sticker shouting its message to the world.

  “Looks like the Baptist Mafia is having a confab.”

  When they entered the kitchen, Beatrice let out a wail and rushed to Gertie and hugged her. She let go and held Gertie’s face in her hands, inspecting her.

  “Mama, you’re hurting my face.”

  Beatrice let go. “Where have you girls been? Acadia and I have been worried sick.”

  “Why?” Gertie asked as she massaged her jaw.

  “You witnessed a murder!”

  “We didn’t witness it, Mrs. Hebert,” Ida Belle said. “We just found the body.”

  Beatrice grabbed Gertie again, squeezing her face and giving her daughter cartoon fish lips. “You’re safe now, honey.”

  Gertie pried her mother’s hands away from her face. “Not with you pulling my skin off, I’m not.”

  “You poor things,” said a woman sitting at the table with Marge’s mother Acadia. The woman’s thinly drawn eyebrows furrowed as she nervously held a cigarette over an ashtray. She looked vaguely familiar. Late fifties, wearing glasses, red lipstick, and a red-checked scarf covering her curler-clad hair.

  “Girls, you remember Dolly Harkins, don’t you?” Beatrice asked. “Dolly, this is my youngest. My baby. Gertie.”

  Ida Belle’s pulse ticked up a notch. Dolly Harkins was on their list of suspects and someone they were eager to pump for info about Guillory. Gertie’s brows lifted slightly. “Why, m
ama, I believe I do remember meeting Miss Dolly once or twice.”

  “Well, I don’t blame you if you don’t recognize me,” Dolly said, tapping the cigarette against the ashtray, sending the long line of ash crashing downward. “I live on the other side of town. My former husband and I never had kids, so our paths probably didn’t cross.”

  “You girls want some coffee?” Acadia asked, getting up.

  “You sit, we’ll get it,” Ida Belle said. “In fact, we’re expecting Marie soon for some of your peach pie.” Ida Belle glanced at Gertie and Marge and winked. “It’ll be nice getting to know you, Dolly.”

  “I don’t see how you can eat after the morning you’ve had,” Beatrice said. “The moment I heard you three were there at that house... with a dead body... I kept thinking you’d come home.”

  Marge brought a cup of coffee to the table and sat. “We went to the café afterward for lunch.”

  “Café?” Acadia cocked her head. “I have a new batch of chicken salad in the refrigerator.”

  “Well, we needed to... decompress,” Marge said. “And then we had to go see Aunt Louanne about something.”

  “Louanne?” Beatrice folded her arms and frowned. She glared at Gertie who was fixing herself a cup of coffee. “You went to Louanne Boudreaux’s house instead of coming home to the comfort of your mama?”

  Gertie blew on her coffee to cool it down. “Well, we weren’t there for comfort, mama.”

  “I would think not. She’s not the most comforting woman,” Acadia said. She cast her eyes on Marge. “You should stay away from her. She’s a bad influence.”

  “Oh, Mom, she’s not. And if you think she’s a bad influence, why are you still managing her photo store?” Marge raised her coffee cup to her lips and took a sip.

  Acadia drew back slightly and folded her arms. “I’m an adult woman. I am beyond being influenced.”

  Marge swallowed and stared at her mother. “What do you think we are? We’re adult women.”

  Gertie nodded and tossed a sharp look to her own mother. “Just shy of thirty. Not three. Thirty.”