Bayou New Year

  Riley Blake

  Copyright © 2022 by Riley Blake

  All rights reserved.

  This story is based on a series created by Jana DeLeon. The author of this story has the contractual rights to create stories using the Miss Fortune world. Any unauthorized use of the Miss Fortune world for story creation is a violation of copyright law.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author and the publisher, J&R Fan Fiction, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Bayou New Year (Bayou Cozy Romantic Thrills, #7)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  About Bayou New Year

  It’s out with the old and in with the new when Fortune, Ida Belle, and Gertie are summoned to neighboring Wasteland to save Celia Arceneaux. Prepared to bargain with an assassin, they put together last-minute plans, but even the best laid plans can be derailed, especially when motive and opportunity are not what they seem.

  The Bayou Cozy Romantic Thrills series was written for those who have read (at minimum) the first two books in the original Miss Fortune series by Jana DeLeon. These holiday-themed short stories stick with the key characters introduced in the first two novels in hopes that anyone will be able to follow along.

  Reading Order for Bayou Cozy Romantic Thrills

  Bayou Valentine

  Bayou Halloween

  Bayou Christmas

  Bayou Easter

  Bayou Thanksgiving

  Bayou Holiday

  Bayou New Year

  Bayou Masquerade-Coming Soon!

  Chapter One

  “Fortune? Where in the daylights are you? Are you hiding from me?” Celia’s voice rang out like an out of tune trumpet.

  “I’m hiding in plain sight,” I muttered, wrapping another string around a helium balloon.

  “Oh there you are!” Celia Arceneaux’s childlike enthusiasm made me cringe. “I thought you might have cut out early to help the enemy.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t mistaken a lost bet for an opportunity. I’m not switching sides.”

  “Ida Belle and I shook on this,” Celia said. “You’re required to stay until twelve to help with the decorations, party favors, and the fireworks display. You’ll be working for us until then.”

  “Check the agreement and a clock. I have five minutes left and counting.”

  Ida Belle had tricked Celia. When Gertie lost to Celia during the sprint for banana pudding, two other prizes were at stake. One was for territory and the other required physical labor. Winner earned the right to choose first and Celia made a miscalculation. Thanks to Ida Belle’s swift penmanship, Celia won the banana pudding battle, but the Sinful Ladies won everything else.

  The only thing I had forfeited was an extra hour in bed. I would’ve been decorating either way.

  Due to the lost side wager, and taking one for the team, I had spent the last couple of hours in Wasteland helping Got No Lives, the nickname Ida Belle had given Celia and her friends. Their group would spend New Year’s Eve in Wasteland, which wasn’t what Celia had in mind.

  Claiming she couldn’t trust the competition, Ida Belle drew up a handwritten contract which specified where each faction would hold their New Years parties. With a few play on words, she’d managed to keep Sinful’s ‘turf’ for the Sinful Ladies, but forfeited one of her own for a couple of hours.

  “Sometimes, you remind me so much of Ida Belle that I just want to scream,” Celia said, thrusting several rolls of unraveling streamers in my direction. “I’m guessing Ida Belle twisted up the words in our agreement and you’re not with us until midnight?”

  “I know you must be disappointed,” I said, painting on an exaggerated smile. “But I’m not really a big fan of Wasteland.”

  “Shame really,” Celia said. “When you settle Marge’s estate, you could probably get a bargain out at Wasteland’s Former Trailer Park. It’s the subdivision name, which I’ve never understood. Maybe you could take Gertie and Ida Belle with you and the three of you could figure out the mystery.

  “There’s no mystery,” I said, refusing to elaborate. I was four minutes and four seconds away from freedom. Besides, most everyone knew the story, thanks to Mayor Hollowman’s nephew Gomer.

  He liked to give newcomers a bit of his family history and usually charged a quarter for his time.

  According to Gomer, Mayor Hollowman’s second wife bought the land with the intentions of renting doublewides with all the luxuries of a five-star hotel.

  Somewhere along the way, Gomer purchased a four-room house and posted paper signs all over the neighborhood announcing the forthcoming starred community and the fact that his ‘no good aunt who married his uncle for money’ would profit from all sales.

  It went downhill from there.

  Even though I didn’t really enjoy everything Wasteland had to offer, I could appreciate the humor that surrounded it. Celia was only somewhat aware of my unpleasant history with Wasteland. Deputy Carter LeBlanc and I were at the Wasteland Steakhouse when terrorists opened fire on a restaurant full of ‘innocent’ people. My cover as Sandy-Sue Morrow held so on the local front, I was one of the innocents.

  The real story wasn’t quite so cut and dry.

  A former CIA assassin and sniper, I was the reason that Ahmad had sent some of his best assassins to the Louisiana bayou. His revenge was well documented in our circle. I’d killed his brother using a stiletto.

  Sometimes I wondered if he’d put a price on my head because of the kill itself or the embarrassment. How many people could say that their brother was taken out by a shoe?

  I sighed, looked around at the Wasteland Steakhouse and decided that I was grateful for Ida Belle. Thanks to fast-thinking, I wouldn’t have to spend another holiday in a place rife with close calls.

  “You’re missing out on a good time,” Celia said. “Tonight, the place will take on a new life with local talents providing music, Cajun food, spiked drinks, and dancing. For the countdown, we have a gator scheduled to fall from that cypress over there.” She indicated the tree. “And at exactly 12:01, the fireworks will begin.”

  I listened, but refused to comment. Ida Belle would consider any unnecessary conversation as an act of treason.

  Celia clenched her fists together as if to steady a rising temper. “I don’t know why I try.”

  “Me either,” I said as politely as possible, not that I thought a crass remark could be dressed up in someone’s Sunday best, but I gave it a shot.

  After another couple of minutes of wrapping streamers around plastic plants, I raced for the door. With everyone busy with their tasks, I said to the room, “Ladies, the lost bet has been paid and with that, Happy New Year, ladies.” The last part was added under my breath.

  Southern manners went a long way, even if no one was around to witness them.

  A couple of minutes later, I hopped in my Jeep, compliments of Sandy-Sue Morrow’s Aunt Marge, and drove back to Sinful.

  It was an enjoyable drive. For a December day, Louisiana was unusually warm with temperatures around eighty-nine. I turned on the radio and three songs later, pulled onto Main Street and parked near Walter’s General Store.

  The town was humming with celebration. Part of that was because Gertie had hired a boy band to entertain so they could ‘reward’ the volunteers. The other part, also known as the real reason, was because Gertie had a mild crush on a thirty-something year old drummer who was way too old for a boy band and way too young for Gertie.

  “Good. You’re back.” Gertie slid a bottle of SLS cough syrup in my flannel shirt pocket. “You’ll need this. Anytime any of us spend time behind enemy lines, we reach for the good stuff as soon as we’re free.”

  I patted my pocket. “We’ll drink to freedom later.”

  Gertie loved theatrics and the twinkle in her eyes suggested today was no exception. She paused long enough to whisper something to Ida Belle then they both headed in opposite directions, carrying on like drill sergeants as they prepared for a good old fashioned Sinful celebration.

  While New Years Eve was a great time to say goodbye to one year and welcome in another, this celebration was more about winning and less about new beginnings.

  My friend Ally approached with a tin of cookies which she immediately handed off to me. “What’s that all about?”

  I laughed. “You haven’t heard about the greatest firework exhibition that this bayou has ever seen?”

  “Don’t tell Aunt Celia that. She thinks she is going to put Wasteland on the map.”

  “Right,” I said, biting into a cookie. “I just left over there.”

  “Traitor,” she said, giggling. “What’d you find out?”

  “Their show begins at 12:01.”

  Ally laughed. “No wonder Gertie is spreading the news that there may be delays. She’s trying to find out when Celia’s first firework will launch.”

  “I haven’t given up that information yet. If she believes this show will go on at nine, she’ll rush to make sure everything is prepared and barely finish before nine. After she calls it a wrap, I’ll let her know that Celia’s fireworks begin after midnight and I’ll catch a nap before the show.”

  “Speaking of which, Aunt Celia said they’re dropping a gator from a tree, but she never said why.”

  “Does Celia ever need a reason?”

  “Please tell me she isn’t using a real gator,” Ally said.

  “Wish I could. Shorty sent someone out to stuff him at the steakhouse.”

  Ally winced. “At the steakhouse?”

  “Happened yesterday. Gomer charged admission.”

  She laughed. “Let me guess....a quarter to watch all of it, but a dime bought a quick viewing?”

  “How’d you know?” I asked.

  “The fact that you aren’t questioning Gomer’s tactics shows you’ve spent too much time in Wasteland.” Ally patted my arm. “Let me see where Ida Belle wants Francine’s booth.”

  “I’ll be here,” I said, helping myself to another cookie before she walked away.

  As Ally weaved through the crowd, I couldn’t help but feel like a kid again. I couldn’t wait for the competition, even though the fireworks contest wasn’t exactly a fair one.

  The Sinful Ladies hired Bayou Pyrotechnics. They were known for extravagant fireworks displays. Apparently, one of the technicians owed Ida Belle a favor.

  I was afraid to ask for particulars. Sometimes it was better that way.

  Instead of pitching in, I claimed a spot on a wooden bench and simply observed. This was the good life that people tried to capture in a song or photograph.

  Sinful was one painting away from an artist’s perfect depiction of Southern serenity. The town itself had these little unique features like a slight French creole undercurrent and slower pace, something that the locals not only enjoyed, but protected.

  The bayou ran behind the town’s businesses, all of which had perfectly crafted storefronts and hospitable owners. It was one of those places where small town rules changed as quickly as the temperature, but gossip was a mainstay and never forgotten.

  When I first arrived, I dreamt of a rapid escape but now, I couldn’t imagine my life any other way. It was a perfect home away from home, a place where dreams could be made or borrowed.

  At that precise moment, I saw Deputy Carter LeBlanc. Borrowed dreams and borrowed time, I mused, grinning as the charming deputy motioned for me with the crook of his finger.

  I smiled in spite of myself, but when the smile wasn’t returned, I realized there was trouble in the bayou.

  “Wish I could say I didn’t know that look.”

  “We’ve got a problem over in Wasteland,” Carter said.

  Ida Belle joined us. “Of course we do. Her name is Celia Arceneaux.”

  “Ida Belle, it’s not a good time to crack jokes about the hostage,” Carter said.

  “Someone is holding Celia hostage?” That couldn’t be right. I’d just left there. “I just saw her thirty minutes ago.”

  “That’s why I was looking for you. One of her friends said you were the last person to see her. Did you notice anything weird about Celia’s demeanor or anything peculiar about the surroundings?”

  “That’s like asking if I’d noticed the scales on a gator’s back. Everything here is new and strange to me so it’s hard to know what belongs and what doesn’t.”

  “Fortune,” Carter said calmly. “Did you see anything that stood out? Anything that struck you as very strange, maybe even dangerous?”

  “Wasteland is a dangerous place,” Ida Belle said, quickly flashing an index finger to let me know she’d take the lead on this. “As for strange, Celia is the strangest woman I’ve ever known. Trust me, Carter, if she’s someone’s hostage, she’s not in real danger. They’ll pay us to take her back.”

  Carter took a deep breath. “I have to go to Wasteland to help Roger. Can you please try to keep everyone here and calm?”

  Gertie joined the conversation with, “What’s going on? Has something happened?”

  Ida Belle quickly explained and Gertie provided the volunteers with an update that consisted of, “Ladies, your attention please! Our enemy is in danger. We’ll return for the fireworks show just as soon as we can!”

  Carter stared up at the sky and whispered something that I couldn’t quite make out. Sinful residents were very religious. Their dedication to their faith was admirable.

  If I were Carter, I’d probably say a lot of prayers, too.

  Not only did he handle things that a donkey-riding Sheriff Lee could not, but he also handled domestic squabbles that could probably land some of the perpetrators on a reality show.

  Gertie grabbed his arm and steered him toward the bayou. “ We can take your boat.”

  “I just said I need you and Ida Belle to stay here and keep everyone calm. Why do you think I’ve changed my mind?” He waited a beat. “Does this have something to do with Fortune?”

  We all muttered things like, “No” and “Not at all” while shaking our heads.

  “Ok then. Have it your way. I suppose a truthful answer is far more incriminating than the evidence we’ll find over in Wasteland anyway.” He pressed his lips together and seemed to consider options before he said, “You can go, but only because leaving you behind is far more dangerous than any hostage negotiations. At least this way, I can keep my eyes on you.”

  Chapter Two

  As soon as we arrived in Wasteland, Carter gave us strict orders to wait with the boat. We all nodded in agreement then disembarked as soon as Carter was out of view.

  “This way,” Ida Belle said, motioning for us to trail behind her.

  It was almost dusk and given the fact that I still wanted to see Sinful’s fireworks display, I wasn’t going to argue. We needed to find Celia and hurry back.

  Even as the thought crossed my mind, I knew better. Nothing was ever easy when we ran into trouble in Wasteland.

  Gertie and I crouched low to the ground as we followed Ida Belle up a gradual slope. She had been a fearless leader for decades, knew her way around the bayou, and wasn’t one to wait for permission or instructions. Even though I had a lot of experience in covert operations, I wasn’t a match for Ida Belle in these swamps. “Stay low. Don’t make a sound.”

  As soon as the words fell from her lips, Gertie stepped on a branch and the crack was as loud as a shotgun blast against the backdrop of quiet waters.

  I ducked behind a bald cypress. As soon as I was in its space, a great white egret croaked. I jumped in surprise, lost my footing, and almost fell in the swamp.

  “Oh jeez,” Gertie moaned. “If it’s not you, it’s me.”

  “It’s usually you,” I whispered, knowing that it was pretty much a toss-up.

  With one foot on the shore and another on a log—or at least, I hoped it was a log—I reached for a low-riding branch and pulled my body up so I could swing and drop on a dry stretch of land.

  Gertie shook her head, but I caught the gesture too late. I swung once and couldn’t quite make the drop. Gripping the branch even harder, I nodded to Gertie and hoped she’d move out of the way. When she didn’t, I realized why. If I’d swung right at that moment, I would’ve landed right behind Carter who had been temporarily stalled by Officer Roger Running.

  A few seconds passed and I felt as if something or someone was watching me. I glanced over my shoulder and caught a glimpse of a large monster-like creature. I opened my mouth but the scream didn’t escape my lips because somewhere in the middle of the scream, I realized Celia’s stuffed gator had already found his drop spot.

  “Those eyes still look deadly,” I whispered.

  “He probably saw his death coming,” Gertie advised, trying to hold my legs steady. “Or Celia.”

  “I don’t think Celia could scare a gator.”

  “Don’t underestimate her. She’s a vile woman.”

  I wasn’t sure that she was all that vile, but one thing was certain, Ida Belle and Gertie would never befriend her. “Maybe one day you’ll just see this as water under the bridge and move on.”

  “Only if it is deep enough for Celia to drown,” Gertie chimed back.

  I snickered. “You’re too much.”

  Gertie’s eyes widened. “Get ready. Here’s Ida Belle.”

  “Now,” Ida Belle whispered, motioning for Gertie to run behind the building.

  “See you soon.” Gertie gave me a push and rushed out of the way. I pulled both arms back and started swinging again. And...I let go too soon.

 

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