Louisiana Longshot (A Miss Fortune Mystery, Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

had explained it all. “So, this Ida Belle will call the sheriff—measure the bone for a slipcover…or what?”
    “Ida Belle will do whatever is necessary. The Sinful Ladies Society has been running Sinful since the sixties. I know the mayor likes to think he and the city council have a say, but everyone’s just humoring them.”
    “Of course,” I said, even though I had absolutely no idea what was going on in this town. “Maybe call the sheriff first, then Ida Belle. Keep up the illusion for the men?”
    Gertie nodded. “That’s a sound plan. Keeping men in line requires a delicate balance.”
    She started pressing numbers on the phone, then paused. “I’m wondering…why did you ask me if I’d killed that person?”
    “Because I needed to know whether to call the police or help you hide the body.”
    Gertie’s face cleared in understanding and she smiled. “Of course.”
    I didn’t know whether to be relieved or afraid.  
    # # #
    Apparently, Tuesday afternoons were a hotbed of criminal activity for Sinful, so we had to wait almost an hour before the sheriff showed up. He looked nothing like the pictures of Robert E. Lee from my history books, but he did ride up on a horse. Ida Belle, on the other hand, had shown up within minutes, her white hair wrapped around giant rollers and covered with a bright green scarf that clashed with her purple robe and pink slippers.  
    She’d asked to see the bone, which was still out back next to the now-sleeping hound dog, and after a brief look, exchanged a glance with Gertie that seemed to convey an entire conversation I wasn’t privy to.
    “But—” Gertie began.
    Ida Belle lifted a hand to cut her off. “Not now. I need to take these rollers out of my hair and get some blood flowing back to my head. Then I’ll be able to think clearly.”
    “Of course,” Gertie said.
    “Tonight,” Ida Belle said and spun around on her pink slippers and exited the lawn by a hedge on the side that she’d walked through earlier.
    “What’s tonight?” I asked.
    “Oh, er…nothing, really. We just meet sometimes—the society ladies, that is.”
    I studied Gertie for a moment, intrigued by her sudden discomfort. She hadn’t seemed the least bit disturbed by the discovery of the bone, and her call to the sheriff had lacked any of the normal drama that would have been present in most people. But a mere glance from a five-foot-two ancient woman, with a slight limp and wearing a bathrobe had her unnerved.  
    “What exactly do you do at these meetings?”
    Gertie’s eyes widened. “Oh, the Sinful Ladies Society is a secret society. I can’t tell you what we do at meetings.”
    “Or you’d have to kill me?”
    “Ha,” Gertie gave a nervous laugh. “Mostly, we knit.”
    “Uh-huh.” Knitting, my foot. I had no idea what was really going on but I could tell Gertie was lying.
    “Excuse me,” Sheriff Lee interrupted.
    I looked over at the sheriff, a shriveled, white-haired man who couldn’t have been a day under ninety. “Yes?”
    “The water’s rising in the bayou—tide’s coming in and all—and I’m afraid the bone will wash back into the water.”
    I stared. “So pick it up.”
    His eyes widened. “Oh, well, I don’t know about that. That’s disturbing a crime scene and my deputy needs to document everything.”
    “The dog chewed on that bone for a good ten minutes. I don’t think moving it two feet is going to mess up your evidence.”
    He stared at me for a while, then looked back at the bone. The bayou level had risen so that it just reached the edge of the bone. It had already submerged the sleeping hound dog in a couple of inches of water, and when I took a closer look, I realized he was blowing bubbles with his partially submerged mouth.  
    I elbowed Gertie and pointed to the dog. “We should probably wake him up, right? Before he drowns in his sleep.”
    “Oh, that dog. Do you mind? I’m wearing support hose and you’re already barefoot.”
    I