Chapter 20
The next morning, Ida Belle, Gertie, and I sat in my kitchen, eating blackberry cobbler with mimosas.
They’d been late at the sheriff’s department the night before, giving Carter their statements, but it looked as though the entire thing was going to end there.
The state hadn’t requested that they speak to anyone involved, probably wanting to put the entire embarrassing mess behind them as soon as possible.
“It’s a lot to take in,” Ida Belle said. “So much happened so quickly. I tossed and turned most of the night just trying to process it all.”
“We didn’t do such a great job, did we?” I asked. “We had the wrong guy pegged as the poacher and completely overlooked the real one.”
“In our defense,” Gertie said, “that was one we didn’t see coming.”
“Of course we didn’t see it coming,” I said, “but that’s my point. Carter did. Or he had his suspicions, anyway, and that was loads more than we had.”
“Give yourself a break,” Ida Belle said. “Carter’s been doing this for a while, and he has the added advantage of knowing most of the players. If he hadn’t known Trevor on a personal basis, he wouldn’t have known his behavior was off.”
“That’s true,” I said, slightly mollified. “I guess I just have to keep working at it.”
“That,” Gertie said, “and you have to stick around Sinful long enough to get a fix on everyone.”
I laughed. “I’m not sure a hundred years would be enough time to get a fix on Sinful.”
“She’s got a point,” Ida Belle said. “We’ve lived here all our lives and we’ve still had a couple surprises lately.”
Gertie nodded. “I guess we’ll never know about the anonymous phone call. What do you think, Fortune?”
I shrugged. “The most likely explanation is that Trevor saw Petey in the boat with his equipment and figured he’d better cut his losses. He would have been long gone before the case fell apart.”
I frowned. Once again, it was the most logical explanation, but I’d never been completely satisfied with it.
“What?” Ida Belle asked. “You thinking it was someone else?”
“Not really,” I said, “it was just something I wondered about.”
“What?” Gertie asked.
“Could Petey have made that phone call?” I asked. “When we showed him the picture of Trevor, he said he’d told. Maybe he didn’t just mean Quincy.”
Ida Belle and Gertie both frowned.
“I don’t know,” Gertie said, “but it’s an interesting theory. I think Petey is a lot more capable than people think. But if he made the call, he wouldn’t have realized that the man he was reporting it to was the same man he was reporting on.”
“That would suck,” I said. “If Petey had caused the ball to drop on himself without even knowing it.”
Gertie nodded. “I can’t believe it was Ramona killing the smaller gators.” She stabbed a hunk of cobber.
“I can,” Ida Belle said. “Ramona was never a lightweight. If she made up her mind to do something, she was going to do it. And given the way she feels about Quincy and Petey, I’d guess she was more motivated than the average person.”
“Hey,” I said, “you don’t think Ramona and Quincy are a thing, do you?”
Ida Belle looked a bit surprised, then shrugged. “I don’t think so, but I can see it happening.”
“They would make a good couple,” Gertie said. “They both prefer being inside and left alone and they’re both dedicated to Petey. I wonder if Quincy’s ever considered it.”
“Uh-oh,” Ida Belle said. “I know that look.”
“What look?” Gertie asked, trying to act innocent and failing completely.
“That look you get when you’re going to play matchmaker,” Ida Belle said. “Just stay out of it. If it’s meant to be then it will be.”
“Really?” Gertie said. “And what proof do you have to back that one up? You and Walter are still single, and Fortune can’t manage to jump on the best-looking guy in town. Who, I might add, would have no problem with the jumping part.”
“You don’t know that for certain,” Ida Belle said.
Gertie threw her hands in the air. “He’s young and good-looking. She’s young and good-looking. No one’s married, ill, or gay.”
“Maybe she’s being cautious,” Ida Belle said. “I know you don’t understand caution, but the rest of the world doesn’t rush into things like you do.”
“I’d settle for a slow crawl,” Gertie said. “Maybe even a belly scoot.”
I leaned back in my chair and relaxed. I wasn’t about to tell her about my romantic dinner tonight with Carter, especially the part about a toothbrush but no pajamas.
She’d pester me for details until the cows came home, and that was something I couldn’t ever see being comfortable doing.
Gertie was going to have to settle for a big grin.
If Carter was as good at pajama-less sleepovers as he was at everything else, I predicted I’d be wearing one for a while.
But right now, I was going to enjoy a little peace and quiet.
No pressure to perform. No worry about injustice.
Just three women having some mimosas and excellent baked goods.
Everything was calm. Maybe not for long.
Maybe not even until we finished the cobbler.
But for now, I was relaxing in my kitchen with my two best friends and listening to them argue about my love life.
No gunshots. No explosions. No fire.
My cell phone rang and I looked at it. Carter.
“Speak of the devil,” I said, and answered.
“Mr. Walker just called in a report of an alligator stealing an apple pie that was cooling on his back porch steps,” Carter said. “And in other news, you’ve been accused of stealing cookies from a toddler.”
I grinned. The calm was over, but now we were back to normal.