4 Big Easy Hunter Page 8

  Ferg handed a large box to the man. As he turned to walk away with the box, I let out a small gasp. The man had a revolver tucked into the waistband at the back of his pants. Ferg closed the hatch, and with a large box in his own arms, he followed the man. Was he delivering counterfeit money in broad daylight?

  Rap! Rap! Rap!

  Oh my gosh! My heart flopped, and I think I jumped about a foot in my seat. Someone was rapping on the passenger window of the car.

  Once my heart was back in place, and I could focus, I saw it was one of the security men from the plantation. Their black attire in this heat was hard to miss. I pushed the button to lower the window.

  “Are you lost?” he asked smiling. “Brennan’s isn’t far from here, and I can show you the way if you’d like.”

  I was surprised he recognized me from the wedding party. “No, thank you,” I said returning his smile. “I have to run into the post office, and then I’ll be able to get there on my own.” I stepped out of the car, gave him a little wave, and said, “Thanks again.”

  In the post office, I stood for a moment waiting for my pounding heart to settle down. Seeing the security guy gave me a surge of guilt and fear as I was sure he was going to ask me why I had an illegal printing plate, which could send me to jail for the rest of my life, in my purse. It was starting to dawn on me the magnitude of what I had done. I couldn’t put the plate back, and I definitely needed to get it out of my possession.

  After purchasing bubble wrap and grabbing a priority mail box, I moved to an empty counter in the corner and quickly shoved the plate onto the wrap, folding it over and over until you couldn’t see what the object was, and until it would fit snugly in the box. After scrounging around in my purse for a piece of paper, I wrote a quick note to include with the plate – I’ll tell you about this when I get back. ~Susan.

  I had to do a little guessing at the address, but as the police department was on Main Street in downtown Carbide City, I didn’t expect the postal workers would have any trouble. I wrote Detective Bentley – Personal and Confidential prominently in the lower corner of the label.

  My package on its way, I rushed out to the car in time to see Ferg pulling away from the curb. He passed right by me but didn’t glance my way. I hopped into my car, pulled out, and headed for the restaurant. I was flabbergasted I was already half an hour late.

  I parked and ran into the restaurant, only to realize I entered right behind Ferg. He gave me a smile and a wink as we walked into the banquet room together. He was flagged down by Dell and Lisa, while I was waved to from the other side of the room by Darby and Nate.

  As I settled into my seat, Darby frowned and asked, “What in the world took you so long? I was getting worried. And what were you doing with Ferg?”

  I noticed my gin fizz was watered down and my salad wilted. “I wasn’t with Ferg. He was just late, too,” I told him. “I made a wrong turn, and then I had trouble finding a parking spot, and it all took longer than I expected. Do we know what we’re having for lunch yet?” I tried to look innocent as I sipped my drink through the straw.

  “We had a few choices, but since you weren’t here, I ordered for you,” he said. “You’re having fresh sautéed trout with pecans.”

  “Ooh, good choice. Thank you,” I said giving him a sweet smile.

  Nothing more was said about my tardiness. There were eight people at our table, and we all had a good time talking over lunch. The meal was topped off with Brennan’s world famous Bananas Foster for dessert. It was just as the menu described – scandalously delicious!

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  My head was pounding.

  Darby and Nate were on their feet belting out the lyrics to Billy Joel’s Piano Man – along with one hundred of their new best friends. I was sitting quietly in my chair and feeling numb. It had been an incredibly long day, and the Hurricanes at Pat O’Brien’s were threatening to knock me off my feet and put me to sleep right there in my chair.

  After the late lunch at Brennan’s, we went back to the hotel for naps, but I spent my time on the room’s balcony watching people on Bourbon Street. I couldn’t help squealing a little bit when a wedding parade came by. A jazz band led the procession, followed by the bride and groom, and then the wedding guests. The bride and groom carried decorative parasols, and the guests all waved white handkerchiefs in celebration of the big event. I was delighted when the bride looked up and waved to me on the balcony. How Darby and Nate could nap with all of this noise was a mystery to me.

  When I finally stepped back into my room, I called Mick. We hadn’t been apart for very long, but there was so much to tell. Of course, I didn’t tell him I had stolen a printing plate for counterfeiting money; but other than that, I gave him a blow-by-blow description of our trip so far. He let me know there was no news about the burglaries, and that he and Joe were doing just fine. Mick had agreed to take care of Joe so his time boarded at the kennel would only be a few days.

  I smiled thinking about Mick and Joe. At least I tried to smile. My face felt frozen. I leaned forward and put my head on the table. Even with one hundred and two people singing Piano Man, I was going to be able to go to sleep with no problem.

  “I think she’s done,” a faraway voice said.

  “Dead … hotel … you go … Susan.” The voices were coming and going, but I couldn’t lift my head to find out what they were actually saying.

  “Susan!” The voice was louder. I forced my head off the table and peered through slitted eyes to see Darby lean down and peer into my face. I was shnockered and exhausted.

  “Get up. I’m going to take you back to the hotel,” he said.

  I think I nodded my head. I’m not sure if it moved up and down or not. I stood up and started fumbling in my purse for my wallet. “Leaving a tip,” I told Darby as I pulled out the wallet. One of Ferg’s $50 bills flipped out onto the table. I forgot I had taken the counterfeit money out of my shorts pocket and shoved it into my purse. Darby reached for the bill, and I said, “Don’t use that. It’s fake money.”

  Darby shoved my wallet and the $50 bill back into my purse and said, “Susan, we’ll take care of the bill and the tip. Come on, let me help you.” He slipped an arm around my waist and helped me walk out of the bar. I turned to give Nate a little wave good-bye. He was going to stay and sing some more with his new best friends.

  When we first arrived at Pat O’Brien’s, I felt great. The atmosphere was fantastic, and I was delighted when both guys wanted to sit in the piano bar. The two copper pianos with dueling piano players was wonderfully entertaining, and we were all singing along and having a good time. Nate ordered alligator and catfish bites. They were delicious, but they were no match for the Hurricanes which definitely snuck up on me.

  On the sidewalk, Darby hesitated for a moment. It was three blocks to the hotel, and I knew he was wondering if I could walk that far. “I can do it,” I told him with a crooked smile.

  He laughed a loud laugh. “Susan,” he said shaking his head, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk before. This is an entirely new experience.”

  “It’s not pretty, I know,” I said with my eyes only half open. “Point me in the right direction, and let’s go.” We walked a short distance, and I slurred, “I talked to Mick. He’s sleeping with Joe. He barked all night, and neighbors complained. Joe barked, not Mick. Anyway, Joe’s sleeping on Mick’s pillow. Isn’t that funny?”

  Darby looked around. I was sure I was embarrassing him, but there was no controlling it on my end.

  “Did you know Nate’s dad was gay? Yep. Gayola. Made a baby with his lesbian wife,” I exclaimed loudly. I put my finger to my lips and said, “Shhhh! Don’t tell Nate though. It’s a secret.”

  If Darby looked horrified, I wasn’t able to see it.

  “Won’t Detective Bentley be perplexed when he gets the printing plate? Perplexed. That’s a funny word.” I stopped walking long enough to giggle and shake my head. I suddenly clapped my hand over my mouth and
asked with alarm, “You don’t think he will make fake money, do you?”

  I think I saw Darby’s mouth hanging open. I was pretty sure I shut up after that, and I think I continued to move my feet. I may have burped loudly, but before I could be embarrassed, my brain went dead.

  Chapter Nine

  There was a sledgehammer buried in my head. I put both hands up to feel around for it, but I could only feel my painful hair. I opened my eyes a bit, but the light of day hurt them. I attempted to take stock of my situation.

  I was in the super comfy bed in my hotel room, but I had no idea how I got here. The last thing I remembered was singing Sweet Caroline and drinking Hurricanes at Pat O’Brien’s. Ooh … that’s why I felt like a sledgehammer hit me. What a miserable feeling. A quick check of my body revealed I was still wearing yesterday’s underwear. That was a good sign.

  I rolled over onto my side and saw a wastebasket beside the bed. Thank goodness it was empty. I guess I could hold my liquor; I just couldn’t handle it.

  My watch showed it was 11:00. I missed breakfast with the guys, but I was glad they let me sleep. I had desperately needed it. Too bad I felt like a truck hit me. Even my toes hurt.

  Our mystery tour wasn’t scheduled to start until 1:00, so there was plenty of time to get ready. As I contemplated ordering breakfast from room service, there was a knock at the door. I wrapped the sheet around myself and went to peer out the peephole. It was Darby. I opened the door, turned around, and dove back into the bed.

  He didn’t say anything. He sat down in the desk chair beside the bed. I glanced over at him and knew something was wrong. He was usually cheerful in the mornings, and he always called me Sunshine. Not this morning. I sat up.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Where’s Nate? Did something happen? Are you ok?” His subdued countenance was scaring me.

  “There’s nothing wrong with Nate. He’s sitting on our balcony reading the paper. I came over to wake you and have a little talk,” he said.

  Uh-oh. Something must have happened last night. Oh my gosh! What if I brought a strange man back to the room with me last night? Who undressed me? It was obvious he had bad news.

  “Ok,” I said warily, “talk.”

  “What do you remember about last night?” he asked.

  “Nothing after Sweet Caroline,” I said. My heart was starting to pound to match the pounding in my head. “What happened? Did I do something? Darby, please tell me I didn’t bring someone back to the hotel with me.” Tears were starting to well up in my eyes. I couldn’t bear the thought that I had been so out of control as to be unfaithful to Mick.

  “No, it’s nothing like that,” he said with a hint of exasperation in his voice.

  “Well, what is it then? And how did I get back here and into bed in my underwear?” I asked.

  “I brought you back to the hotel, and I undressed you and put you in bed,” he said. “I stayed long enough to be sure you weren’t sick and that you’d gone to sleep.”

  “That’s a relief,” I said letting out a huge, pent-up sigh. “So what has you so upset?”

  “You were, shall we say, chatty on the way back here. Do you have any recollection of telling me something about Nate?” he asked with eyebrows raised.

  Oh my gosh! No! Did I tell him what Aunt Sony said about Nate’s parents?

  “Not a thing,” I said innocently.

  “No? If I recall, it was something about Nate’s dad making a baby with a lesbian wife,” he reminded me.

  I hung my head.

  “I was probably going to tell you when we got back home,” I told him with some embarrassment. “Aunt Sony planned to tell Nate his parents were gay, but when she saw how comfortable he was in his relationship with you, she decided to let it rest. She said she and Uncle Alfred were the only two people to ever know his dad was gay and had married a lesbian friend.” I smiled a little smile and said, “She said they did it once, and she got pregnant with Nate.”

  Darby couldn’t hold back a grin. “Nate actually might want to know about this,” he said. “I’ll have to think on it before we go to see his aunt and uncle again.”

  I could see he was mulling it over in his mind already. I interrupted his momentary lapse into silence and said, “Darby, I’m really, really sorry if I embarrassed you last night. I know I’m not a good drunk. That’s why I’m usually so careful about how much I drink.”

  “You were only a little embarrassing,” he said with a smile. “It was an experience for sure.” His smile faded, and he looked at me more seriously before saying, “What I really want to talk to you about is the printing plate you sent to Detective Bentley.”

  My eyes popped out of my head, and I shrieked, “WHAT?!”

  “You heard me,” he said. “You told me not to use a $50 bill because it was fake money. Then you said Detective Bentley would be perplexed when he got the plate in the mail. You were worried he would start printing money.”

  I flopped back onto the pillows and pulled the sheet over my head. My hair and my toes hurt worse than they did before.

  “Susan, what’s going on?” he asked. “I swear, if you’ve gotten yourself involved in anything here that’s none of your business, Mick’s going to have my head on a chopping block.”

  I sat up and looked at him with a guilty look, but said, “I’m not involved in anything. That’s why I sent the plate to Detective Bentley. He can figure out what to do with it.”

  He threw his hands up in the air. “Where in the world did you find a plate for counterfeiting money?” he asked incredulously.

  “Bogart showed it to me,” I said matter-of-factly.

  “The dog?” he asked dumbfounded.

  “Yep,” I said.

  I filled him in on my escapade with Bogart, finishing with, “I honestly have no idea why I shoved the plate in my purse, but during the tour, I realized it was important that someone know about all of them. I didn’t want to get involved by going to the police, so I mailed it home to Detective Bentley.”

  “That’s why you wanted to go to the post office,” he said as the connection was made in his mind.

  I nodded my head.

  “But what took you so long that day?

  “I saw Ferg delivering boxes of money to a Spanish guy at a bar. I sat in my car and watched. The Spanish guy had a gun tucked in his waistband, and Ferg is definitely into something illegal.” I gave the news to Darby somewhat excitedly. It felt good to be able to tell him what I had discovered.

  “Susan Hunter Raines! You are not getting involved in this!” he barked at me. “You didn’t see anything. No Spanish guy, no gun, no boxes.” He threw his hands up again in exasperation. “I know that look on your face, and you know full well if Mick shows up, and you’re knee-deep in trouble, he’ll kill all of us.” He lowered his voice a few decibels and said, “You should have left the plate alone, but at least it’s on its way to Bentley.”

  We both sat and stared blankly for a few moments before I broke the silence and said in a small voice, “You’re right, and I don’t have any plans to follow up on any of this. I was just telling you what I saw.”

  He gave in and gave me an endearing smile. He could never be mad at me for long, and sending the plate home to Detective Bentley wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever done.

  “How long will it take you to get ready?” he asked. “Nate and I didn’t have breakfast, and we can all grab a quick lunch before the tour if you can be ready soon.”

  I glanced at my watch again. It was 11:20. “Give me forty minutes,” I told him. “If I’m ready sooner than that, I’ll come to your room.” I hopped off the bed without giving thought to being in my underwear. I started rummaging through the dresser for my new floral romper. It was sleeveless with a collar and a button-down front. A belt of the same material tied at the side in a bow. The loose shorts came to about mid-thigh. The backdrop was black with the large flowers being light yellow and cream with green leaves. It was lightweight, really cute, an
d I loved the contrast between my naturally blonde hair and the black background.

  I smiled, turned to Darby, and said, “Found it! I’ll see you soon,” and I dashed into the bathroom.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  “I’m not going in there. You can’t make me.”

  Darby and I were doing our best to convince Nate there was nothing to be afraid of and going into the Voodoo Museum wouldn’t hurt him.

  “No!” he said emphatically. “They’ll take a hair off my shoulder, or cut a little piece of my clothing, or something, and then they’ll make a voodoo doll and torture me.”

  I had a hard time suppressing laughter. Poor Nate was horrified when he saw our mystery tour was to the Voodoo Museum, then through a cemetery, finishing with a haunted house and a fortune teller reading.

  Ferg joined us on the sidewalk and clapped a hand on Nate’s shoulder. “Come on, Nate. I’ve been in here a million times. It’s only two rooms and a hallway, and a bunch of pictures and stuff. There’s nothing spooky in here, and it certainly isn’t haunted.”

  It was one thing for Nate to tell his friends “no,” but I could tell he didn’t want to appear too cowardly to Ferg, and he finally relented.

  Most of the people in our group had already gone in and come out. We were the last to enter the small museum, and I was the one who squealed and wanted to bolt for the exit as soon as we walked in. The man behind the counter was holding a snake. My skin started crawling all over my body, and my hair stood on end. I hated snakes. Nate went over and petted it. My skin crawled even more, and I shuddered.

  Darby was watching me and started laughing. “Susan, it’s harmless,” he said.