Chapter 19 #2
Carter shrugged. “I don’t think we’ll ever know for sure.”
I frowned. “There’s something else I don’t understand. If Trevor needed the money, why would he bother killing small gators?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say greed. He should have known how to get a smaller gator off a line without killing it. He probably figured it all added up, especially since he had Whiskey peddling his wares at well above market. The guys he was into money for don’t play around.”
“I guess that’s why he was moving to Florida for another job.”
“Probably one of many reasons, but he was stupid to go around announcing it. So you want to tell me what turned you guys onto Whiskey?”
“Oh, some friend of a friend of Gertie’s told her about the barbecue gator. Said he was claiming it was some kind of special cut and charging a fortune for it. Ida Belle thought it sounded odd and that’s how we ended up at the bar.”
Hey, it wasn’t a complete lie. I was Ida Belle’s friend and had told her about the barbecue gator, and she told Gertie.
So ultimately, the information did come from a friend of a friend of Gertie’s.
The last thing I’d offer up was that we’d been the ones to cause the fray at the Swamp Bar the night before, especially when we’d already lied and said we weren’t there.
And I certainly wasn’t going to admit that Gertie had stolen a boat… again.
Carter finished up the sandwich, let out a huge sigh, and leaned back in his chair. “I’m just glad it’s over. Maybe I can catch a break on crime until the results of the election audit are announced.”
“What happens if Celia is still mayor?”
“Honestly? I’ll start considering my options. I can’t deal with four years of her. I’d shoot her before the first one was over.”
“I would have shot her already.”
He grinned. “Maybe while you’re thinking about your future plans, leave out law enforcement as a career. We don’t get to kill everyone we don’t like.”
“A bullet probably wouldn’t kill her either, unless it was silver and shaped into a cross.”
He laughed. “You’re going to keep me on my toes, aren’t you?”
“On your toes and probably a whole lot of aggravated. Still interested?”
“God help me. Yes.”
He rose from his chair and leaned over, kissing me soundly.
Then he straightened up and stretched. “I’ve got to take Ida Belle’s and Gertie’s statements.
I appreciate you asking Whiskey to leave you out of it.
It saves me having to lie on paperwork again.
I would love to tell you I’d be back to spend some quality time together when I’m done, but I’m pretty sure that time would be me sleeping.
Don’t get me wrong, it will be quality, but not the kind I have in mind to share with you. ”
I rose from my chair gave him a slap on the butt. “Get going. I’ll be here when you’re rested.”
“I was thinking about grilling steaks tomorrow…a romantic dinner. Maybe you’d want to pack a toothbrush. Pajamas are optional but not encouraged.”
I knew what he was offering, and it was a whole lot more than just a steak.
Was I ready? I’d been over this moment in my mind a million times already and I’d never come up with an answer.
But now, standing here in my kitchen and looking at him, I couldn’t imagine saying no.
I had no idea what the future held in store for me, but the one thing I did know was that I wanted Carter to be part of it.
“I love to have a romantic dinner sans pajamas with you,” I said.
He smiled, and I could see the tiny bit of relief in his expression. He’d been worried I’d turn him down. He reached out and gathered me in his arms and kissed me again. This time my legs went weak.
“Promise me something?” he said when he pulled back from the kiss.
“Sure.”
“Don’t get into any trouble between now and tomorrow.”
“I’ll give it my best shot.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
After Carter left, I loaded the dishwasher and set it to run, then put in a load of laundry so I wouldn’t have to walk around in a bathrobe the next day.
But the feeling of restlessness never subsided.
I should be happy. Petey and Quincy were at home, the real poacher had been identified, and Whiskey and Buck would both live through the experience.
Buck would be under the weather for some time and Whiskey probably wouldn’t poach an alligator again for a while, but it could have been a lot worse for both of them.
But something still bothered me.
Everything Carter proposed was completely plausible and probably what happened, but with Trevor dead, we might never know the entire truth of the matter.
Not for certain. Carter had laid it all out logically, and I was nothing if not logical.
So why was it bothering me so much to not know for sure? Why couldn’t I let this go?
I walked into the pantry to grab a roll of paper towels and reached for it on the top shelf. Next to the paper towels was a set of glass jars—jellies and pickles that Gertie had made and given to me. My gaze locked on the pickle jar and suddenly everything made sense.
I forgot the paper towels and headed straight for my Jeep.
It was late evening when I parked in front of Ramona’s house. I walked up onto the porch and knocked on the front door.
“It’s Fortune,” I called out. “Marge’s niece.”
I heard movement inside and a couple seconds later, the door opened and Ramona peered out the crack. When she saw it was me, she opened the door and indicated I should come inside.
“I just opened a bottle of wine,” she said. “Can I offer you a glass?”
“That would be great.” I took a seat in the living room and a minute later, Ramona returned with two glasses of wine and took a seat in a chair across from me.
“I can’t tell you how happy I was to hear that Petey and Quincy were back at home where they belong,” Ramona said.
“Me too.”
She frowned. “It was surprising…finding out the game warden was the poacher.”
I nodded. “I don’t think anyone saw that one coming, except maybe Carter. He was a step ahead of all of us on this one.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. After all, it’s his job. You guys were just helping out.”
“True. And that’s why I’m here now.”
“What do you mean?”
I looked her straight in the eyes. “You have to stop.”
She stared at me for a long time, never blinking, then finally lowered her gaze to the floor. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t know for sure until now, but I suspected. It never made sense to me that Trevor would kill small gators. Why run the risk for less profit, especially given his position with the state? But someone who didn’t have the strength Trevor did might go for a smaller kill.”
She didn’t agree with me, but she didn’t argue with me either, so I continued.
“And although I believe Petey saw Trevor in the boat,” I said, “I don’t think he saw Trevor poaching. I think he saw you, and that’s why he goes into that hiding place in his mind whenever I ask him who hurt the alligators.”
She sighed. “I know it seems stupid, but when I saw Petey getting closer and closer to the water, I panicked. I couldn’t lose him, too. I couldn’t watch Quincy live through what I did.”
“You can’t kill them all,” I said quietly.
“I know. I’ve always known. I just had to do something, and I didn’t know what else to do.”
I felt awful for her. I knew that feeling of hopelessness—of wanting so badly to do something that made a difference but not having any idea what that something was. I’d felt that way when my mother died.
“What happened to your son was horrible,” I said. “Probably the most horrible thing that can ever happen to a person, but my understanding is that it’s not that common. I know it’s not a guarantee, but the odds of the same thing happening to Petey are really low.”
Ramona sniffed and nodded. “I know you’re right. I’ve lived here all my life and understand as well as the next guy how gators behave. The odds are against it, but the more I thought about Petey standing that close to the bayou, the more panicked I got.”
“I understand.”
She rubbed her nose with her finger. “Can I ask a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Before you turn me in, will you give me some time to explain it all to Quincy? He’s important and I don’t want him thinking less of me than he has to.”
I stared at her, a bit surprised. “I’m not turning you in. I would never turn you in.”
Her eyes widened. “Aren’t you dating Deputy LeBlanc?”
“Yeah, but I don’t work for him. I’m under no professional obligation to report anything.”
“What about a moral one?”
“The moral obligation is why I’m here.”
Her eyes misted up, and she looked down at the floor again. I could tell she was embarrassed.
“You’re a good woman,” she said. “Your aunt would have been very proud of you.”
“Thank you,” I said. The comment pleased me. What little I knew about Marge were all things I respected.
Ramona rose from her chair and went over to the painting on the wall that I’d admired the first time we visited. She lifted it off the hook and handed it to me.
“I want you to have this,” she said. “As a thank-you and as a show of friendship. I’ve been hiding in this swamp for a long time now. Maybe it’s time that changed.”
I took the painting and looked down at it, still amazed with the beauty contained on a piece of canvas.
“I don’t know what to say,” I said. “It’s incredible. Thank you.”
“I know you’ll appreciate it. I could tell how much you loved it the first time you saw it.” She stopped talking for a couple seconds, then started again. “Ida Belle and Gertie will know where you got it and they’ll want to know why.”
“And I’ll tell them. But don’t worry. Your secrets are always safe with those two.”
Ramona nodded. “People say they’re the town busybodies, but I think there’s a whole lot beneath those surfaces.”
“You have no idea.”