Bayou christmastime, p.5
Bayou Christmastime, page 5
“The one about the lamppost and train?” David asked.
“That’s the one,” I said, buying time before I texted Carter to let him know that he wouldn’t get a good night’s sleep after all.
“What is it with you and stories?” He looked at Ida Belle and Gertie. They shrugged.
“Want to know how it ends or not?” I asked.
Gertie waved the cough syrup bottle in front of his face. “Be nice.”
“Sure. I love stories.”
I looked at Ida Belle. “You’re better at the unhappy endings. Finish it.”
She shot him a sinister grin. “The gunman stepped away from the lamppost. He crept silently up the sidewalk, focused on the house that he was about to enter, but unaware of the two dangerous operatives following behind him. The amateur criminal didn’t know he was being tailed by decorated veterans, skilled in combat and secret missions.”
“Highly dangerous, and very complex, missions,” Gertie added, sitting on the edge of my bed now.
I sighed. If anyone else told a similar story, I might have been bored, but Gertie and Ida Belle were thoroughly enjoying themselves, and we had some time to kill.
Ida Belle paced in front of our prisoner. “The man entered the house, withdrew his phone, and called to report back to his boss. He’d secured the suspect and was on his way home.”
Shakera paled and Gertie pointed at him. “You got ahead of yourself, didn’t you?”
We laughed.
“Just tell me how this ends,” he said, closing his eyes. “I just want to know what to expect.”
“You’ll have to discuss that with Carter. I sent him a text when we arrived here. He should be showing up within the next few minutes. And since you’re in his girlfriend’s bedroom, I don’t think he’ll be doing this interrogation by the book.”
Chapter Six
After I killed an arms dealer’s brother with a stiletto, I’d been forced to assume a new identity. While Sinful, Louisiana wouldn’t have necessarily been my first choice, it had begun to feel like home.
Minus a few annoyances, one such frustration now seated in my bedroom, I was content here in this Southern bayou town. And while Deputy Carter LeBlanc was irritating when he was in the professional capacity, he was still mine and in situations like these, I appreciated him.
Carter blew out a ragged breath and glared at Mr.Shakera. He’d questioned him upon his arrival, but didn’t get much more than we had. This man worked for Stephen Carr, but that’s all we knew.
Carter was frustrated, but Gertie and Ida Belle? They were chomping at the bit and couldn’t wait to find out more. Carter, on the other hand, wanted to remove the danger, put him behind bars, and deal with him after Christmas.
I wondered if he could even do that.
Since this man had intended to hand me over to a criminal? I had a feeling that Deputy Carter LeBlanc could, and probably would, do whatever he wanted.
As if he’d read my mind, he cupped the side of my face and said, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m great.”
He pulled Shakera to his feet. “Then you’re getting off far better than you should. I’m taking you down to the sheriff’s office and questioning there. Then, you’ll sit in the cell and wait for the judge to return on January 2nd.”
“What?” The man paled. “I have a family and children.”
“And Fortune has a boyfriend and friends who love her.” He glared at the criminal as if he were despicable. “Maybe next time you’ll think about that before you promise to deliver an innocent woman to a man who plans to kill her.”
“I didn’t know,” he said sadly.
“Oh, I think you did, but on the chance that you didn’t? I want you to sit in a cell for a long time and think about what you would change if you had it to do all over again. An innocent woman could’ve lost her life because of you. So I’m not worried if you have a bad Christmas without your family.”
“Go Carter,” Gertie said, patting his back.
“Sorry I misled you with the story,” I said, only because I wanted this perpetrator to see that I could be a nice person. “I just wanted to distract you.”
“I gathered as much,” he said. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
Carter glared at him. “Considering that you’re here in my girlfriend’s bedroom? Your words aren’t worth much.”
Gertie clucked. “Told you.”
****
Later that same day
Christmas Eve couldn’t have been any nicer. It was seventy degrees and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. After some deliberation, we decided on a picnic-style feast. Everyone worked together to haul the food and plates outside as we set up for a party.
Walter said, “So Carter tells me you had a little visitor last night.”
“He handled it and everything is fine.”
“I’m sure it is,” he said. “But he didn’t handle it alone. Ida Belle and Gertie said you were pretty awesome.”
“If a weapon isn’t available, kill ‘em with stories.”
“Hey, it works for Gertie sometimes,” Walter said.
“She tells better stories,” I said.
He laughed. “She and Ida Belle have had years of practice.”
“Knock, knock.” Little Hebert entered the backyard carrying a ham. “Someone said you were having a cookout. I thought I’d bring this by.”
“That’s so thoughtful,” I said, accepting the tray and ignoring Carter’s change in demeanor. He’d been laughing and smiling, until Little showed himself. Now, he looked as if he were about to arrest him, just for thinking he could be there at all, much less unannounced.
“Won’t you stay and eat?” Gertie asked. “We’re about to say the blessing and cut the turkey.”
“Big and I celebrate Christmas with our neighbors and family. I wanted to leave this gift with you and see if I can speak with Ida Belle.”
“Ida Belle?” Carter asked suspiciously.
“She’s inside,” I said, ignoring Carter’s disconcerted look. “Follow me.”
I could almost hear the questions at my back as I led Little into my home. As soon as Ida Belle saw him, she perked up. “What a...surprise.”
“I hope that means it’s a good one,” he said, pointing at the ham as if he needed her to believe that he was only there bearing gifts. “I brought along a present, but also needed to speak with you.” He turned to me. “Since this concerns you, maybe you should hear this, too.”
“Follow me,” Ida Belle said, leading the way to the front porch.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked.
“No, like I said, I can’t stay, but Big and I need to know why Stephen Carr from the Northern Syndicate is in Louisiana.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Ida Belle, it’s me.” Little shook his head. “We’re honest with one another. We don’t have secrets.”
I pressed my lips together and tried to think of an explanation. Anything less than the truth didn’t seem like something that the Heberts would buy.
Ida Belle and I swapped glances.
“Give me something,” Little said.
“It’s me, okay,” I said. “I’m not at liberty to say why I’m here, but I’m here running from something, or should I say someone.”
“You know this isn’t news to me, right?” Little shook his head. “And why didn’t you come to us? We’re family.”
He walked away as if I’d given him all he needed to know. Once he reached the car, he waved. “Thank you for telling me the truth. Happy Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas!” We called back.
“What was that about?” Gertie asked, joining us.
“I’m not sure,” I said.
Ida Belle crossed her arms. “Two tests.”
“What were they?” I wasn’t following her.
“The first was to see if we would invite him to stay for Christmas dinner. The second was to find out if we’d tell him the truth.”
“We passed then, right?” I asked.
Ida Belle nodded. “Yes. We passed.”
A few minutes later, we gathered around the tables to celebrate Christmas Eve. We had ham, turkey, and a crawfish boil. There were casseroles and vegetables, and some of the most delicious desserts that I’d ever tasted.
I, for one, was very thankful to be part of this community. When I first arrived in Sinful, Louisiana, I’d looked at the town as if it were any other ordinary small town, perhaps an uninteresting place with its foundation steeped in PTAs and community bingo. What I discovered here was a pleasant surprise.
Sinful was an extraordinary place, and with any luck, Louisiana would be my home for many years to come.
Author Note
Thank you for reading Bayou Christmastime. I hope you’re enjoying the Bayou Cozy Romantic Thrills series and truly hope you’ll join us for a new installment in 2023.
In the meantime, you’ll find an excerpt from Christmas and Criminals, a standalone title released in December 2022.
If you use social media, please follow me on Twitter or Pinterest. I’d love to hear from you anytime.
~~~Riley Blake
rileyblakeauthor@gmail.com
Christmas and Criminals Excerpt
I awoke with a start, completely aware of my eerily quiet home. I’d lived in the bayou for several months now, and while Sinful, Louisiana didn’t see a lot of action after midnight, this particular night was too tranquil.
I tapped the lamp. Nothing. The room was as black as night.
As I’d drifted off to sleep sometime after ten, the soft hum of Christmas tunes were playing on my home sound system. At some point, I’d also noticed the bathroom light.
Holiday music no longer filled the air and the light was gone. Had there been a power outage or could this be something more?
I grabbed my nine and hurried to the window. Viewing the homes in the distance, I saw the waterfront homes with their decorated Christmas trees, most of which were aglow with festive bulbs.
Wrapping my hand around my weapon, I tiptoed to the door. Gertie and Ida Belle were on speed dial, but until I checked the streetside houses for any sign of an outage, I couldn’t determine if this was an electrical issue or an isolated event. Should I be concerned or go back to bed?
I shuddered at the thought of an intruder and crept away from my bedroom. That’s when I heard a moaning screech on the staircase. I stopped in my tracks, held my breath, and quietly returned to my room.
All doubts were put to rest. Discerning where the perpetrator might be in terms of how many stairs he or she had climbed, however, left a lot of unknowns. Director Morrow, my CIA superior, used to tell his agents to always assume the worst.
Doubt saved lives. Unwarranted confidence ended them.
More often than not, the worst lingered at a CIA agent’s door. With a bounty on my head, it wouldn’t stand as a surprise to find a stranger in my house.
Using my cell phone’s flashlight, I pivoted to check my surroundings. I slammed and locked my bedroom door alerting the perpetrators to the fact that they’d lost the element of surprise. Sucking in a deep breath, I listened to the pounding of footsteps on the wood floors.
Based on my count, two culprits stood on the other side of the wall. I had barricaded myself into a room without an easy escape route. Now, what to do next?
Riley Blake, Bayou Christmastime
